Jefferson Thomas, died Sunday in Columbus, Ohio. He was 68.
I owe Thomas and his fellow Little Rock Nine heroes a tremendous debt of gratitude. Because of them, I learned about racism before I learned about falling in love.
On Sept. 25, 1957, Thomas, Trickey Brown, Elizabeth Eckford, Carlotta Walls LaNier, Gloria Ray Karlmark, Thelma Mothershed Wair, Terrence Roberts, Melba Patillo Beals and Ernest Green courageously agreed to become the first Black students to attend Little Rock Central High School in Arkansas. The historic Brown v Board of Education decision was issued by the US Supreme Court three years earlier ordering the desegregation of America’s schools – but states and counties were refusing to enforce the law until President Eisenhower stepped in and ordered the 101st Airborne to escort the students to school.
I never met the Little Rock Nine – but I felt I knew them in my heart. In 1955, my father was a deputy base commander stationed at Tachikawa Air Force Base in Japan. For some reason, I was bussed to kindergarten off-base. Every time the bus left the base, we were met by outraged Japanese college students waving signs and yelling “Yankee Go Home!’ Sometimes a protester would get to the bus – just pure hatred in his eyes – and slam against the window, screaming. Not only was I afraid – but I didn’t understand why they hated me so much. What did I do? Re San and Susie San explained that they didn’t hate me – they hated Americans for occupying their country. It took me a while to understand the distinction. We wound up getting an escort of MPs.
When my father was transferred back to the States in 1957, I remember seeing news reports about the Little Rock Nine. I was glued to our black and white Admiral TV watching these kids who were older than me doing something important. Thousands of miles away, safe at Mitchell AFB in New York, I was heartsick at what they were going through. I knew that fear. I knew what it felt like to have people hate you for no reason at all. And this was so much bigger. My father tried to explain racism – but it was hard to understand since we lived on integrated Air Force bases where the only thing that seemed to matter was rank.
The Little Rock Nine changed my world – I became an advocate for equal rights and social justice. And while I never met Jefferson Thomas – I did become friends in the late 1970s with one of my Japanese protesters, the chief NYC-based correspondent for the Tokyo Broadcasting System when I worked at CBS News Syndication. We drank and sang karaoke at a piano bar together – laughing at how different times were now from that pain of hatred.
Rest in Peace, Jefferson Thomas – and thank you. Here’s a short piece produced by Marquette University on the Little Rock Nine:
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