Boom! Protest: 1962

My mom and I went down to the West side of town, where the old Western Union Pacific railroad used to be, long before the Delta Center was built.

I was 11; my mom was 35. We were the only white people for miles around.

We saw dozens of people carrying picket placards, with the words "We Shall Overcome". They were marching and singing,"We Shall Overcome."

I recognized the neighborhood as similar to the one where my mom had taken me years before, to give away my beloved child's oven set - that Santa had given me for Christmas the year before. There was a program to give gently used toys to needy families in West Salt Lake.

I met the mother and daughter who would receive the oven from me. They were very happy. I had been saddened to see my little possession disappear, particularly as I had enjoyed making omelets and cookies on it - with or without my Mom's help.

But seeing the bright smiles of the mother and daughter who would receive more joy from this toy than I ever would, made up for the sadness I had felt.

My attention then turned again to the purpose behind our protest march. We were marching to give Blacks the right to vote. I was puzzled then and am still puzzled now why this was necessary; I simply do not understand many of the denials of rights or privilages that are not afforded to every individual in our society.

I was particularly bothered by this in the early 1960s. I had gone to the Trinity African Methodist Episocopal church with my mom and had listened to the sermons and heard the gospel choirs. My mom and I then went to some of our new friend's homes and I noticed that they did not have much of what we had. We were far from wealthy, but we had what we needed. I could not say the same about our friends.

I proudly carried the picket sign and proudly sang; that day, as on other days, I believed that someday things would be better, much better, for civil rights.

Although progress has been made, some dreams have been dreamt and some have been achieved, I am still waiting for the day when things will be better, much better, for civil rights.

Copyright © 2007, Kathryn Esplin-Oleski