"The events related in the play have been selected from the actual happenings of the summer; the dialog is taken from the actual words spoken at the time. If any license has been exercised in compiling this production it has only made slight changes to the strict chronology of events."

Dedicated to the memory of:

HERBERT LEE -- shot in 1961

LEWIS ALLEN -- shot in 1964

JAMES CHANEY -- shot and beaten to death in 1964

MICKEY SCHWERNER -- shot and beaten to death 1964

ANDREW GOODMAN -- shot and beaten to death 1964

-- and the others whose names are not known.

(Darkness) (Music:A few bars of Dixie ) (Cocks crowing.) (Lights begin to come on.)

VOICE:

Morning in Mississippi. The sky gets brighter. According to the official state guide book . . .

ANNOUNCER:

In Mississippi, each morning dawns softly and tenderly like a blessing. The people of this historic state rise with the sun to tend their crops of cotton and corn. From time immemorial it has been thus. The thankful hearts of the people of Mississippi as they arise to go about their appointed tasks are as much a part of the great Southern Heritage as the glorious flag we call the stars and bars . . .

(Music: Dixie, stopping suddenly.)

VOICE:

In 1962, in broad daylight, on a public street in the town of Liberty, Herbert Lee was shot to death. Lee was a Negro and one of the first active civil rights workers to work in this part of Mississippi. Of all the people who saw the shooting, of all the people walking there in the sunshine that day, only one man said he was willing to testify . .

(Lewis Allen, in the early morning praying on his knees.)

LEWIS ALLEN:

Lord. I'm scared. Lord, it's not that I'm ungrateful for your new day. Don't think that. But I'm just plain scared and can't get happy like I used to.You gave me eyes, Lord. And I saw Mr. Hurst shoot Herbert Lee. You gave me a tongue, Lord. And I am bound to tell what I saw . . . . if it ever comes to that. But I'm scared. They're all looking at me, Lord. They been looking at me since that day in Liberty. Sometimes -- forgive me Lord -- I wish you'd never let me see what happened then. I get the feeling that if there ain't no trial soon I won't be around to testify, and that's the truth.

VOICE:

Lewis Allen, 44, Negro, lived with his fears for two years. In January he was shot. His mouth was finally sealed.

(Mime. Song: Man of Constant Sorrow.)

SHERIFF:

As the County Sheriff I would like to say, in regard to the recent shooting of the man Allen, that I don't think there were any racial motives involved. It was because of domestic . . . and other such problems. That was the cause.

(Song: I Didn't Hear Nobody Pray.)

VOICE:

It began to be said aloud, and in public, that there might be something wrong in Mississippi.

WHITE MAN:

(During this dialog, the body of the man Allen is carried off behind the speaker. Carriers singing softly 'Didn't hear nobody Pray.') There's something wrong in Mississippi. Yessir. Now we was very contented until them goddamned Communists, Jew nigger-loving civil-righters -- or whatever they call theyselves -- came here. Nobody invited them. They're outsiders. Troublemakers. And they ain't clean. What happened to the boy, Allen? You shouldn't have asked me about that. You must be from out of town to ask that. Maybe I knows -- maybe I don't. Maybe he was one of them civil righters. But you can bet your last chew of tobacco on this -- he was a nigger trying to be smart. He got what he deserved. That's all you need to know . . .

HOUSEWIFE:

I don't care what they say. He was a good man and that's the onliest reason he's dead now. You're telling me there's something wrong in Mississippi! Mister, it ain't never been right! We've known that for better than three hundred years.

VOICE:

The businessmen were upset. But it wasn't about 300 years of murder. In March, Mr. Fred A. Ross, Chairman of the State Welfare Board addressed the more substantial white citizens with these revelations:

FRED ROSS:

The state of Mississippi ranks fiftieth in the country for personal income and in wages. Why is this? It is because we have millstones around our necks, and by millstones, I mean of course Negroes. These jungle savages have not reached an equal point with us. Has anyone ever worked out how much they are costing us in terms of welfare? And yet, irresponsible newspapers in the North and East -- who care nothing it seems for our heritage, our southern way of life -- say that we must integrate. They are saying that we are to mix with a jungle filth that cannot even support itself!

(Crash sound.Burning cross. Mime of violence.)

MECHANIC:

Two white men came out of the woods with canvas bags over their faces. They pointed a gun at my temple and made me lie on the floor of the car. We came to a place back in the woods where nobody lives no-place hardly. They had something they call a cat of nine tails, and a rope about the size of my little finger with a hangman's noose on it. A fellow was standing over there with a sawed-off shotgun -- one on this side with a pistol ... they wanted to know if it was true that COFO was coming to Pike County and where they was going to live and what were their names. I didn't know about any of these things and they made me sit up by that tree and said I was lying. I said they might as well go right on ahead and kill me 'cause I do not know them answers. The first time they hit me I hollered and they said if I hollered again they'd leave my brains aside that tree. They whipped me good -- whipped me until I didn't have no feeling back here and I bit my own self every time they hit me to keep from hollering . . .

(Legislator pushes Mechanic to one side.)

LEGISLATOR:

(waving a piece of paper) I think this fits the bill nicely, gentlemen. I ask the State Senate to give its overwhelming support to this bill which outlaws any meeting, gathering, group or any other such coming together of people for the purpose of any change in ownership or custom either agricultural, industrial or social, or for the purpose of any control, political change or for profit.

VOICE:

It was called the Criminal Syndicalism Bill. The Mississippi Senate gave overwhelming approval to its introduction in May ...

LEGISLATOR:

This Bill is going to prove our most important weapon against the much-publicized invasion of Civil Rights agitators this summer.

MECHANIC:

They weren't finished yet. They said they'd give me a whipping with the black-jack as well. Then one of them said 'Nigger, can you run?'  I said 'Yessir.' They hit me five or six times more and I ran as far as I could. I was practically blind and I fell right at the edge of a creek ... water was running over my wrists. I heard the car leave out of the woods.

(Music: Rock and Roll. Teenagers dance. White Liberal standing to one side.)

WHITE LIBERAL:

I like to watch them dance. And they do dance well you have to admit . . . I don't care who hears me say it, we have some very nice Negro people living down here. I mean, you have to look at people as people. That's what the Bible says so it must be true. I and a few other concerned people in our congregation and we are going to take a stand. We're going to go out into the streets and we're going to confront people. We're going to appeal to their human consciences. 'Give us,' we're going to say, 'any old clothes you don't want. Negroes will be glad of them.'

MIME:White Liberal gives a bundle to Negro Girl.

NEGRO GIRL:

Oh thank you Ma'am. Thank you. Thank you so much. Oh Ma'am.

(She puts on the dress which is full of holes and dances about mimicking the White Liberal.)

WHITE LIBERAL:

Liza, What in Heaven's name are you doing?

(Negro Girl kneels abruptly and begins to scrub floor.) (Tom in country costume (wide hat) talking to young worker wearing COFO button.)

TOM:

I tell you we is happy. We always been as happy as we 'spose to be. If sometimes we ain't been happy it was because we weren't 'spose to be happy. That's the way things is. That's the way they always has been.

WORKER:

And you won't go down to the courthouse to vote just because your grand-daddy couldn't go down. If you won't try to vote, how can you expect to be free -- to have power?

TOM:

Power? I'm not sure I'd rightly know what to do with that. We have to trust in what the Lord send. He will provide.

WORKER:

Isn't it about time the Negroes of Pike County started helping themselves. There's as many black people here as there are white. Don't you think you should have some say in what goes on?

TOM:

Now that's a mighty big question . . . the white folks know. They is smart. Yassir, they is mighty smart. (pause) Now I don't mind you talking to me about voting and all, and I won't tell on you ,but you ought to be careful people will think you're one of them . . . (looks closer at the Worker) one of them Free -- (examines the COFO button) Free . . . . free . . . . (jumps back aghast) Lord have mercy! Freedom Riders! (Workers goes to move toward him) Get back! Don't come near me nohow. Nosir! Lord. Lord. Lord. (Tom circles around keeping as far away from the Worker as he can)

WORKER:

If you'll only stand still for a moment there's one or two very important things I'd like to tell you . . .

TOM:

(still keeping out of the way and glancing back and forth apprehensively) I tell you we is very happy the way we is. Keep away!

WORKER:

Happy with bombs and beatings? . . .

TOM:

Hush your mouth! Lord! Don't even mention bombs.

WORKER:

Happy with low wages? How much do you make for a day's cotton picking?

TOM:

Keep away. You is worse than the evil eye.

WORKER:

How much?

(as the Worker advances, Tom runs off in fright)

TOM:

I get's better than two dollars a day. An' I'm grateful!

WORKER:

(with irony) And before I'll be a slave I'll be buried in my grave. I'll go home to my Lord and be free.

VOICE:

The great civil rights drive in Mississippi began with the spring. They brought hope and they brought fear ...

POLICEMAN:

(standing over a group of people) You're getting above yourselves you Goddam ragged-ass niggers. Do you know what you-all are? Do you know what you are? You're niggers. You, boy! Come here. What are you, spook? (pause) If you don't say something right now I'll shoot you all and I'll sit on your dead black bodies and I'll smoke my cigar and think nothing about it. Now what are you?

BOY:

We're niggers, Sir.

POLICEMAN:

You're Goddam right you are. I know them agitators are going around getting you all excited by calling you Negroes but you're just plain old-fashioned niggers and always will be. You're niggers ain't you?

BOY:

Yes, Sir. (said very deliberately)

POLICEMAN:

(Getting angry) What's the matter? Can't you say 'Yassir' properly. Say 'Yassir' like a nigger.

BOY:

Yassir.

POLICEMAN:

(appeased) Now scratch your head like a good boy and get your black ass out of here.

(Church music)

WHITE PREACHER:

And the sons of Noah who went forth from the Ark were Shem, Ham and Japheth. These were the three sons of Noah and from these the whole earth was peopled. And from these the whole earth was peopled. Friends, these are significant words from a significant book of the Bible -- Genesis. 'In the beginning. . . .' And when you are troubled, or confused it makes a lot of sense to go back to the beginning of things. This helps you to get straight with yourself and with your fellow man. Helps you to get straight with God. Everybody ought to get some Genesis now and then. Friends, there are strangers in our midst who are standing in mortal need of the Scriptures. Strangers in our city, some of them calling themselves ministers of God, standing in mortal need. Standing in mortal need. They point to the Bibles which they have not read and say 'You people are wicked and sinning. You are flying in the face of God's will because you don't believe that all men are created equal.' Now, friends, there are two kinds of people here in our parts of America -- the white people who are descendents of Japheth and Shem and the black people who are descended from Ham. And if we read on apiece in the Bible we see that Noah was displeased with Ham and said that the son of Ham must be a slave to Japheth and Shem. That's how God wanted it to be, we must be kind and merciful and follow God's written purpose with patience. Be not angry or afraid, my friends, God moves in mysterious ways . . .

POLICEMAN:

You heard me, niggers! Move along . . . and don't go forgetting who you-all are.

VOICE:

By the first few weeks of spring the incident list was already indicating the violent summer ahead. Shots had been fired into five Negro homes. Negro churches all over the community were the target for cross-burnings. Lewis Allen had been shot. Negro property had been burned. And already beatings and intimidations had been too numerous to list . . . .

YOUNG MAN:

There were three of us in the car when we were stopped at Summit. They forced us into the woods at gunpoint and then they beat us with brass knuckles on their hands for eight minutes.

VOICE:

Civil Rights workers still kept coming to Pike County . . .

YOUNG MAN:

We have no choice. War has been declared. To leave now would be disastrous. If we left now we would be responsible for what would be the bloodiest reprisal against the Negro people within living memory. We have begun -- we must go on.

(During the next scene the song Keep your eyes on the prize, as background) (Explosion)

VOICE:

June 22nd.Home of Freddie Bates bombed.

(Explosion)

VOICE:

On the same day, home of Curtis Bryant, leader of the local NAACP, bombed.

(Explosion)

VOICE:

June 22nd. Home of Corrine Andrews bombed.

VOICE:

The Sheriff, answering the accusation that his police force did not appear to be very active in tracing those responsible for the bombings, said:

SHERIFF:

Those responsible for these outrages are so-called civil rights workers. These anarchists will be brought to justice.

Younger Worker with Tom.

WORKER:

Well, the Sheriff seems to be pretty smart after all. He says he knows who done the bombings.

TOM:

Is that right. Mr. Sheriff, he's a mighty 'portant man. Better not try anything when he's around. Smart as a bird dog that Mr. Sheriff . . .

WORKER:

He said the niggers been bombing their own houses --

(Explosion)

VOICE:

July 8th. COFO Headquarters, the Freedom House, bombed. Two workers, one white and one Negro, hurt by the blast. One of the Freedom School students wrote a poem about what had happened:

I came not for fortune, nor for fame, I seek not to add glory to an unknown name; I did not come under the shadow of night, I came by day to fight for what's right. I shan't let fear, my monstrous foe, Conquer my soul with threat and woe. Here I have come and here I shall stay, And no amount of fear my determination can sway. I asked for your churches, and you turned me down, But I'll do my work if I have to do it on the ground.

PART TWO
(DARKNESS)
VOICE:	In the country parts of Mississippi, the white folks have a saying: You'll never be a man until you've been kicked by a mule and been to bed with a nigger woman. Despite this the explosive word in the vocabulary of the South is the 'Miscegenation.'
(Sounds of banging)
MAN:	Come out here you black bitch!
(crash)
SECOND MAN:	And if that white man you call your husband is there, we'd like to talk to him too.
WOMAN:	What do you want? (screams) What do you want? (crash)
MAN:	Grab her!
WOMAN:	(screaming) What do you want? What do you want?
SECOND MAN:	Let's break down the door and drag the black bitch out.
(Much louder banging. A crash)
WOMAN:	(scream) Take that rope off my neck.What do you want?
SECOND MAN:	We're taking you for a ride.We're going to cure you of associating with them damned outsiders. Grab her!
WOMAN:	What do you want? What do you want? (screams and sound of beating) What do you want?
SECOND MAN:	We want the naked meat!
(A scream is heard.T hen a cross bursts into flames and in its light the WOMAN is seen huddled on the ground. Into the circle of light steps BRIARMOUNT.)
BRIARMOUNT:	Me? I'm a millionaire. I didn't have no schooling and I'm a millionaire. Are you? I know what they all say about me and I'll tell you this . . . most of it's true. Those stuffed shirt friends of mine in their clubs don't like me because I organize little things like this (indicates the fiery cross) and their wives don't like me because I appreciate a nice-looking nigger women when I sees one and don't mind who knows about it. And all the time that good old crude Mississippi oil comes out of the ground just for me . . . and I make sure that I'm a dozen jumps ahead of all them people, black and white. (indicates cross again) Why do I burn crosses? Mister, I did it because I wanted to. It's to lighten up the people that's in the dark.
(Group singing:They say that Freedom's a constant struggle .)
OLD WOMAN:	When the news came that the three boys -- their names was Andrew Goodman, James Chaney and Mickey Schwerner -- had been beaten and shot to death over in Neshoba County, I got a strange feeling come over me. It was like fear but somehow it was different. These three boys had died for me and I asked myself what was I doing for them. Before, when the COFO worker came to see me I told him I was too old to vote. The day after I heard the news I went down to the courthouse on my own to register. I still don't know how I was able to do it . . .
VOICE:	Pike County is typical of many counties in Mississippi. The 15,000 or so Negroes there represent about half of the total population. About 250 of these are registered to vote.
OLD WHITE MAN:	(pointing a finger to the Negro woman who is sitting on a high stool) Look! The niggers are taking our freedom away! Just look at her! Do you realize that until this very moment only white people have ever sat in that restaurant. Black people always went around to the back. Why don't people do something? Why don't they go around to the back?
NEGRO WOMAN:	The COFO people said that coming in here would be Civil Rights Bill or something or other . . . something about public accommodations. Well, all I know is that I've waited all my life, fifty-six years, just to be able to come in here when I felt like and sit down and order a banana split. Lord! I've tasted freedom now!
(Song: I'm Gonna Sit at the Welcome Table)
VOICE:	Fear settled in the community, accompanied by the most unlikely rumours. At the start of the summer the comfortable middle-class neighborhoods, the nice parts of McComb dropped their bridge parties and put away their garden hoses in alarm at the incredible news that demonstrations were sweeping through Mississippi.
ALARMIST:	It's part of an incredible conspiracy organized by either the Jews, the Russians, or the Chinese. They're going to take over.
WIFE:	Will Mr. Goldwater be able to save us? Whatever will we do?
VOICE:	With commendable speed and energy they set up a counter-organization to meet that threat. It was called, appropriately enough, HELP, and it worked as an elaborate telephone system that came into operation whenever an unaccounted for Negro or white person was seen walking a white neighborhood. Although it became quickly obvious that HELP was never going to be needed, the good citizens of middle-class McComb doggedly continued to spy through their curtains and keep one hand on the telephone. If shameful things were happening in other parts of McComb, they were much too busy to notice.
VOICE:	July 19th. Home of Nat McGee fire-bombed.
VOICE:	July 26th. Home of Charles Bryant, bombed and fired upon.
VOICE:	August 16th. Negro Supermarket in Burglundtown bombed.
WORKER:	I'm sick of hearing you people tell me that you're too old, too ill, too happy, or too scared to vote. How else are you going to change this rotten state of affairs? How else are you going to get rid of a Sheriff who is either incompetent or a criminal? If you're not willing to do something about it, you have no right to complain. How many of you have enough guts to stand up straight and say, 'We are sick and tired of being sick and tired'?
(SONG: I'm on my way )
WHITE LIBERAL:	We are very respectable. Very well thought of in the community. When all this fuss started I said to my husband, I said "If only people would stop and think and talk, the whole things would be much nicer, don't you think?" Nobody knows yet, but yesterday evening I gave a little dinner party with two people from COFO as guests. Now whatever strange ideas they have, they're really quite nice people . . . I'm going to mention it, let is drop casually, you know, at the bridge party tonight. I want to see their faces when I tell them . . . (phone rings).Hello, this is the Heffners. . . Oh, please you don't understand . . . Oh, let me explain . (She places the phone back and then cries silently.)
VOICE:	Suddenly the Heffners had trouble. Their phone rang continually with hate calls. They watched as armed men waited outside their suburban house. There were to be no more bridge parties in McComb for them. Soon afterwards they packed up everything they had and left the state.
(Song: Oh Freedom )
TOM PREACHER:	Let the church say Amen. Yes, Lord. Yes, indeed. The spirit is among us today (Amens). I would like to personally thank our brother, Pastor Rich, the visiting minister of God, for his fine sermon this morning. (Amens, Yes, Lords, etc.) Friends we done had ourselves some good old-fashioned religion this morning. Yes Sir. (Agreements) Now while the choir sings that fine old song 'Meet Me at the River' we'll have the collection and I would like you to show your appreciation for Pastor Rich's fine sermon . . .show that you ain't ungrateful for getting some of the old bible spirit.
WORKER:	I wonder if you'd let me say a few words just before we finish.
TOM PREACHER:	Why yes . . . , there's no reason why we shouldn't listen to our young visitor from the COFO workers, is there friends? As long as it doesn't take too long . . .
WORKER:	Thank you. I'm here, we are here because there's some thing wrong in Mississippi. We've had more bombings than you can count on both your hands, churches have been burned to the ground, people have been killed. What have the police done about it? Nothing!What are they or anyone else going to do about it? Nothing! And yet you can all sit here singing and saying Amen and feeling good AS IF NOTHING HAD HAPPENED! You're not even angry!
TOM PREACHER:	Just a minute! Just a minute! Slow down a minute young lady. I would like to remind you that this a church of God. You can't come in here and start telling us to get angry.
WORKER:	I'm sorry to have to argue with you, Sir. But Negroes in McComb, everybody in this congregation has every reason to be as mad as Hell --
TOM PREACHER:	STOP! You're cursing in a holy church of God.
WORKER:	But people ought to be very angry --
TOM PREACHER:	Get out! Get out!
WORKER:	How can we overcome our fear of the white folks when we're frightened of each other --
TOM PREACHER:	Get out! (pause).  The choir will  now sing and we will have our collection. And  start praying.
(Explosion)
VOICE:	When the Negro Supermarket was bombed the police arrived with supernatural speed. They were in an investigating  mood for a change, and so they took in the biggest  crowd they could find -- for praying.
FIRST COP	What you niggers been up to this time?
SECOND COP:	I'm gonna bring you all in and give you a good whipping.  (Roy Lee down on his knees praying.)
FIRST COP:	I'm gonna beat that big black son of a bitch.
ROY LEE:	Oh God. What we gonna do about this? They keep on bombing us and beating us and nothing's done about it.Won't you help us God?
SECOND COP:	I'm gonna beat the hell out this goddam man-mountain. . . . you black bastards, keep back. This one is ours. You ain't gonna see him again.
(Song: This little light of mine )
VOICE:	One of the first people to step over the line of disapproval and stand firmly on the side of civil rights workers in McComb was Mrs. Aylene Quin. When nobody dared to say hello to them as they walked from door to door along the red dust road, Mama Quin welcomed the workers to her cafe. If they had no money, and this was often the case, they were still welcome. No civil rights worker ever walked out of Mama Quin's cafe feeling hungry. That's why they bombed her home in September. The blast nearly killed her two youngest children as they lay asleep in the front bedroom. On the same night, the bombers visited a Negro church and blew that up too. COFO held a mass protest meeting at the ruined church the following evening, and a young Freedom School Teacher stood up to speak.
TEACHER:	I'm going to speak loud and clear so you can all hear me. I especially want those cops standing at the back there with their guns and billyclubs to hear. I want them to pay particular attention because it concerns them as much as anybody. We have been beaten in the streets! We have been bombed! We have been burned! Now we are beginning to get up from the ground where we're been sitting patiently for so long. You people at the back who call yourselves policeman, guardians of the peace, know this too, and you're scared. That's why you're here tonight. Because you're scared. You know that Negroes are fed up with that good old southern custom of injustice. You are scared that the time may have come when they would realize that they had nothing to lose. Scared that they have reached a point where they will hit back . . . .
(Everybody shout 'Enough')
VOICE:	They arrested him  there. He was thrown in jail for --
NEWSMAN:	-- inciting a riot. As a concerned citizen, I must congratulate the police for their swift execution of their duties. Within minutes of the end of this so-called church meeting the rest of the people were arrested as well. I must say they looked a very disreputable bunch.
NARRATOR:	By the end of the summer, folks were -- as the COFO worker had said earlier in the year -- sick and tired of being sick and tired. They begun arresting Negroes on a scale never seen before. Even High School students were taken from the classroom and thrown into jail. At one time, 24 high school-age children were in jail on bonds totaling many thousands of dollars. They were all charged with Criminal Syndicalism.
STUDENT:	A Freedom School Essay "What were the feelings of the Negroes gathered under a large tree at the scene of the bombed churches.  The words that were spoken came not from the mouth but from the heart. The tears that were cried came not from the eyes but from the heart. And the feelings came not from the outside but from the inside.  Some were the feelings of hate. Some were the feelings of grief. Some stood by swearing softly while others were just plain dumb. Such were the feelings of the black people who stood by almost hopeless."
VOICE:	Everybody was surprised when eleven white men, all well known in the community, were arrested in connection with the bombings. No one was very surprised when Circuit Judge W. H. Watkins let them off with a stern reprimand.
JUDGE:	It's quite plain that you've listened to the some bad advice from people who ought to have known better. You have pleased guilty to very serious offenses and you could go to jail for a very long time. But I am bound to take into consideration the fact that you are, at least some of you, young men just beginning to make your way in the world, and the fact that you come from respectable families. You were, too, unduly provoked by the presence in our community of foreign agitators, and by the fact that these agitators are living immoral and unhygenic lives. But you must not take the law into your own hands. Don't do it again!
NEWSMAN:	It isn't fair! Judge Watkins inspire and thrills us all with his mercy and consideration for the human side of things . . . and the people who know nothing about a state of Mississippi or about our Judge Watkins, scream abuse at a man who showed that even the law has heart. It just isn't fair.
VOICE:	VOICE: It isn't fair! Too many people have been able to say that too many times, during the long hot summer . . . .
(Song:Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me 'Round)
FIRST:	Me. I was the civil rights worker who was kicked and beaten in the street while people walked by and pretended not to notice.
SECOND:	Me. I have to care for my children on my own now. The police took my husband out of town and he never came back to me because I was helping the civil rights movement . . .
FOURTH:	Me, The Highway Patrol stopped me and searched my car. They couldn't find anything, but before they left, one of them cut off my beard with a blade. He said it made me look like an smart nigger . . .
VOICE:	Me, the Negro of McComb. I have been starved. I have been humiliated. I have been driven away. My body has been used by the white man and then thrown into rivers and swamps. I've been left hanging on trees. They have taken my blood. They have taken my pride. They have taken my history. They have robbed me of my color. Why is it that when they hear me sing they are afraid.
(We Shall Overcome ')
	Shell of Fear When looking in a book, I noticed the buds of cotton. How ripe was the cotton that awaited  to pop out of its shell They are looking upon me, the Negro of Mississippi, who are ripe enough to pop out of our shell of fear. NOT LIKE THE COTTON that will lie and wait to be pulled out or not, if so be the case. No we will pop out Bloom and grow in the sunlight of freedom.
VOICE:	Ladies and Gentleman of the audience, Men and Women of the world, Black and white people. We have reached the beginning.