The Darkest Corner Thoughts of The Orangeburg Massacre
The Darkest
Corner of a Dark Time
Thoughts of The Orangeburg Massacre
Right now, the Railroad-Corner is a quiet. However, in my head it still screams out loud every time I drive by it…especially if its February. I think about that time often, but it doesn’t really hit hard until February because all those pictures show up again. It hurts too much to keep thinking about the reality of the tragedy and the thought of the callousness of the act. There has never been a fair look into the way things ended that day.
This month meets me with so many different emotions. Because of the time and place Orangeburg was overlooked then and now. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. life was taken just a few months later. This turned all focus from any type of justice away from the small confederate loving town.
Times changes but darkness stays the same.
That grassy hill on the west side the railroad tracks that split the city of Orangeburg, will always have a cold feeling about it to me. It has been fifty years since we last saw Bump run down Gadsden Street on his way to a Wilkinson High football or basketball practice. That big infectious smile that he always had can be seen from down the street as he approaches us. As me and my crew enjoy ourselves at our neighborhood corner (Gadsden Street and Walker Avenue) singing, dancing and bullshitting, we anticipate what he was going to do or say to any of us today.
The route he’s taking
is one we all traveled often. It is the shortest route to get to Wilkinson
High School and to the campus of South Carolina State College. We also
take that same route to get to MacDonald’s gas station (One of the
prideful Black-owned gas stations in town) to buy snacks or have a bicycle tire
patched. The route treks through a couple of back yards, through corn fields,
crossing a railroad track, more back yards, and then a long winding dirt road.
It is more like an obstacle course than a route. Bump (Delano Middleton)
was always running a little late. However, we all knew why. He had to finish up
everything Mr. Gramps (His dad) had asked him to do on their farmland...the
farm that ran for acres parallel to our neighborhood. It used to bear cotton
but now mostly corn and an apple orchard. The animals are few now, but hogs had
to be slopped and cows and chickens fed before he went to school.
Our crew of seven had
seen this so often that we really didn’t have to look up. It's Bump. We all say
hi and go back to talking about our favorite topics...football games from the
weekend or the Jackson Five singing group. But we know what else is
coming. Bump has this big bright smile like nothing could ever hurt him.
He is confident and had it all to back it up. I don’t remember a time that he
passed by us that he didn’t stop to encourage us in some way. His words sink in
even though we pretended not to listen. It all balls down to doing something
good in life. He was talking mostly to his nephew (Alonzo) than us, but we all
had to acknowledge him...or else. Looking at it now, everything was as if it
was predestined for him. He knew what he wanted in life early. As an extremely
talented natural athlete, he could play any sport he wanted to and did all of
them very well. Coaches smiled when his name was mentioned. His physique was
intimidating, and his quickness was even more respected. He would sometimes get
tested by foolish unknowing bullies and they all soon learned a hard lesson. No
one messed with Bump.
Bump was going to be
someone special.
No one ever said
it out loud, but we all knew. Needless to say, none of us ever thought that it
would be bullets from Highway Patrolmen lifting him to that specialness.
This tragedy happened
way too quickly.
One day everything is
fine and the next day an explosion of racial tension floods our city. The
curfew from a protest kept us inside for days. Tensions boil over and a black
cloud drops down over the city. The cloud gets darker and darker each day as
hate and evil set in.
Things escalate when a
group of students begins a protest for civil rights. In addition to lunch
counters and restrooms being segregated, there is a bowling alley that locks
its doors when students arrive.
The students are pushed
back by force all the way to campus ground.
.
Then, without warning
or instigation ... gunfire erupts into the crowd of college students. Pellets
from shotgun blast rip through clothing and flesh. Students begin to run and
some fall. Bump falls to the grass to never stand again. Several others fall and
rise slowly, two other students also never rise again (Henry Smith, and Samuel
Hammond.) As the lights and bullhorns are active above them, they struggle to
breathe.
When all is still,
armed uniformed men stand around carrying on casual conversations. Some of the
men carry clubs and some have their hands in their pockets and casually listen
to the last breath of the students on the ground.
Screams from other hurt students and yells
from loud bull horns merge above the city and the community will never be the
same again.
Life around the
"Railroad Corner" left that day and never came back. That corner like
our corner in our neighborhood the life-point, a meet-up place and it was the
sign of how the community was doing. Every good neighborhood has a place where
kids can laugh and play without worry. Unless there was a storm (dark clouds)
there was always life on that corner.
No one knows how short our time will be
(Never undervalue the time you have with your good friends.) We never gathered
at our corner after Bump took his last run past us. It was as if he did like
the old western movies where they ride off into the sun. Then there is only
darkness as the movie closes, and everything is over. In our neighborhood when
darkness comes it's time to head home for safety.
Will there ever be
life on the "Railroad Corner"?
It’s been over fifty
years, but it seems like only yesterday that we tossed the ball around with
friends and no matter how much time passes it will never take those moments
away. If there is one lesson to learn from this, it is simply to enjoy life
while you have it as Bump did...
Even though I will
always look to see when there is justice for this tragedy,
I can't allow
the darkness to overtake the light that guides me.
Be a good example for all to see while you are here regardless of what others do.
Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.
Three simple life rules:
Grow: Grow to know the love of God.
Encourage: Encourage everyone you meet.
Enjoy: Enjoy Life
Rest in Peace My Friend.
May God Bless any reader that comes across
this and remember the lesson from the corner. The dark corner will only
have life again when the light comes back. Let the light expose what is hidden
in darkness.
The Annual Orangeburg Massacre remembrance is
on February eight every year.
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