James Orange, Civil Rights Legend
by
Heather Gray
This article previously appeared in Counterpunch.
"James was central to virtually every critical movement
for justice in the South and the country since the 1960's."

On February 16, 2008 we lost the Reverend James
Orange. He was 65. And what a remarkable sixty-five years they were! His
funeral was on February 23 at the International King Chapel on the Morehouse
College campus. It is one the few chapels in Atlanta that could accommodate the
hundreds of people who would want to pay their respects to the great man. But
then a funeral for James at a Chapel named for Martin Luther King, Jr. was most
appropriate.
James is survived by Cleophas, known as Cleo, his wife of
39 years, daughters Jamida, Deirdre and Tamara, and son Cleon. Another
daughter, Pamela, died last year. It's thought that the loss of his daughter
last year took its toll on him.
In addition to James Orange, in the past few years we have lost other giants in
the country's civil rights movement including Rosa Parks (2005), James Forman
(2005), Coretta Scott King (2006), and Anne Braden (2006). On February 22, the
day prior to James' funeral, the legendary Johnny Carr died in Montgomery at
age 97. She was a friend of Rosa Parks and in 1967 had taken over from Martin
Luther King the leadership of the Montgomery Improvement Association. James, of
course, knew them all and if he were still with us he would help to honor
Johnny Carr.
James was black and raised in the mid-1900's in the heart of the Jim Crow South
in Birmingham (sometimes called Bombingham or the Johannesburg of the United
States) which was also home of the infamous arch segregationist Police Chief
Eugene "Bull" Connor. Connor was known, among other infamous acts,
for the hosing down of and using attack dogs on numerous young black protestors
in the 1960's. James Orange was one of them.
"James was a passionate, relentless and ferocious advocate
for justice."
As an adult, James was a big man physically. He was 6'3", weighed 300
pounds and referred to by some as the "gentle giant." It's true he
was gentle. He also had a wonderful laugh and singing voice that projected
everywhere and that he used frequently at his church or for protest chants. But
James was also a passionate, relentless and ferocious advocate for justice. In
no way did his gentleness and kindness belie his for passion for justice,
against injustice and work toward establishing the "beloved
community" as described by Martin Luther King.
There are some who attribute the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 to
James Orange. The Voting Rights Act of 1965 is known as one of the most
significant laws to launch the second reconstruction in the United States and
the most significant challenge to the end of Jim Crow in the South. By
extension, because of his work in the 1960's, it is said James Orange, is
central to the election to political office of blacks, Latinos, and women
throughout the country. But James was about even more that that!
His was a legacy of perhaps being one of the best organizers that evolved out
of the 1960's civil rights movement. Never one to take center stage, he would
be chagrined at me making such a statement. Nevertheless, the funeral and
memorial service the evening before was filled with the most notable national,
local and regional civil rights leaders, labor leaders and international
notables on the stage in the services such as Andrew Young, Reverend Joseph
Lowery, Mrs. Evelyn Lowery, John Lewis, Reverend Jesse Jackson, Walter
Fauntroy, Dorothy Cotton, Reverend Timothy McDonald, Atlanta Mayor Shirley
Franklin, the King children Martin Luther King III and Bernice King, labor
leaders Richard Trumka and Stewart Acuff; a South African delegation of ten that
included S'bu Ndebele, the Premier of KwaZulu-Natal; and many other national,
local and regional activists too many to name here.
All of them relied on James one way or the other, whether it be to organize a
protest march to challenge the erosion of civil liberties; organize a poor
peoples march; commemorate the 1965 Selma-to-Montgomery march; work on a
political campaign; register voters; organize union protests in support of
workers; camp out in Newt Gingrich's office in Marietta, Georgia in protest of his
"Contract on America" as we called it; assist workers in union drives
or protests; organize assistance in voter registration, voter education and
improved infrastructure in a new South Africa; organize the King Week
celebrations in Atlanta, in particular the march to commemorate King's work and
current struggles for justice; or simply and profoundly to be friend or mentor.
And that list is but scratching the surface.
I recall in the 1980's when Jesse Jackson was running for
the White House. James had been organizing for him. When Jackson came to
Atlanta for a rally we were all seated in a huge church that was filled to
capacity and waiting for the program to begin. Jackson announced that it would
be delayed, as there was no way it could begin without James in the house.
Shortly after, when James appeared with his group of young folks and sat
unobtrusively in the back of the church, the program began.
"Rev. Orange was one of the best organizers that evolved
out of the 1960's civil rights movement."
James began his civil rights career as a young man just one year out of high
school in 1962 in Birmingham, Alabama. In an interview of Reverend Orange in
2000 by Fred Gaboury (late dean of labor journalism for the People's Weekly
World), James describes his initiation into the civil rights movement
"I was a year out of high school," said Orange,
who grew up in Birmingham, Alabama. "I had met a beautiful young woman who
sang in the choir at the Monday night mass meetings in the Sixteenth Street
Baptist Church. We were to meet afterwards and go have a soda and talk."
The church was jam-packed with a standing-room-only crowd
except for two benches in the front. Never one to hesitate, Orange walked up
and sat down on one of them.
"I listened to Ralph Abernathy's sermon," Orange
remembered, "and the longer I listened the more intently I listened as I
became absorbed in his message. It was 1962 and the movement was determined to
break segregation in Birmingham, the city of Sheriff 'Bull' Connor and his
police dogs."
After the services, Rev. Edward Gardner, a leader of the Alabama Improvement
Association that was leading the campaign, asked people to come forward. As
they moved to the front of the church, the audience stood and started to
applaud.
It was then that Orange realized that he was in the wrong pew. But there was no
turning back. "I was already up front and, a few minutes later, found
myself, together with those who had come forward, in the church basement."
He said, "Although I didn't know it yet, the trip down those stairs
changed my life forever."
After people took seats and quieted down, the Rev. James Bevel, director of
direct action for the Southern Christian Leadership Council (SCLC), began telling
the group, many of who were high school or college students, how they were to
behave if they were confronted by the police or arrested.
Never a shrinking violet, Orange asked who was going to get
arrested. "We are," Bevel replied. "You are."
"That's when I learned that those empty benches had
been reserved for people who had volunteered to go to jail, if necessary, in
the fight against Jim Crow," Orange said, a broad smile crossing his face.
"It's said James was arrested more than 100 times."
"But there was no tuning back." And, as far as
Orange is concerned, not then and not since.
It's said James was arrested more than 100 times. One of
the more recent ones was in the 1990's protest of Newt Gingrich as James and
others occupied Gingrich's office in protest.
Perhaps the most critical arrest of James' life and what set the tone for his
subsequent work was in 1965 in Marion, Alabama. At that time James was
organizing on voting issues in Marion and was arrested for doing this work.
Rumors began to spread that James was about to be lynched and peaceful protests
began outside the jail. One of those protesting was 26-year-old Jimmie Lee
Jackson. As state troopers were beating Jackson's grandfather and mother,
Jackson tried to protect them. In the struggle he was shot in the stomach by
trooper James B. Fowler and died two days later. (In 2007 Fowler was finally
indicted for this incident.)
Some in the movement wanted to take Jackson's body to the doorstep of Alabama
Governor George Wallace in protest. Instead James and others decided to hold a
march from Selma-to-Montgomery and the rest is history. That march effort
included the aborted attempt now known as "Bloody Sunday" on March 7,
1965 in which marchers were accosted by the Alabama State Patrol when they crossed
the Edmond Pettus Bridge in Selma. The bloody scene was flashed across
television screens and in newspapers throughout the country and the world. It
was culminated on March 21, 1965 when Dr. King and others completed the march
from Selma-to-Montgomery. On August 6, 1965 President Lyndon Johnson signed the
Voting Rights Act legislation into law.
James was at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis when Martin Luther King was
assassinated in 1968. He was devastated by the loss. Gaboury writes that there
were two experiences that James described as most sorrowful for him and they
were "The dynamite charge, set by (neo-fascist J.B.) Stoner, that
partially destroyed the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church (in Birmingham) and
killed four young girls on Sept. 15, 1963. The other was the assassination of
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on April 4, 1968."
By 1970 James was living in Atlanta. He continued to work with SCLC until 1977
when he began his career up to the present day with the AFL-CIO in Atlanta. He
started this work in a campaign for the Amalgamated Clothing and Textile
Workers Union that was ultimately successful in providing benefits for workers
of the J.P. Stevens plant.
I've been asked when I first met James. I honestly can't recall except that it
was sometime in the early 1980's when we in Atlanta were protesting Ronald
Reagan's policies through our Jobs with Peace initiatives. I would see James at
virtually all the gatherings and protests across the South on that issue and
others.
"'All of us need to make sure that the March is
relevant to the militarism, poverty, racism and anti-war issues that concerned
Dr. King,' said Rev. Orange."
When I worked for Coretta Scott King at Atlanta's King
Center for Non-Violent Social Change in the 1980's James was, of course, always
available to advance the work of Dr. King in whatever way possible. He was also
the living embodiment of history to talk with the youth we brought in who came
to the Center from throughout the country to learn about non-violent social
change. When James wasn't traveling, I could usually reach him in one of three
places; either at the King Center which is on Auburn Avenue in Atlanta, the
original SCLC office up the street on Auburn, or at the AFL-CIO office
elsewhere in the city. He was always working on some project. He simply never
stopped.
When the King holiday was initiated in 1986 Mrs. King knew that she could rely
on James to help organize the events for that first official King week which he
did, of course. Since then, James has always played a central role in
organizing the King March in Atlanta during King Week events. When the King
Center chose not to be responsible for the King March during the holiday, James
took on the responsibility and created the organization now known as the March Committee.
Years ago I complained to James about the military plane "fly-overs"
during the King March. "James," I said, "King would not
appreciate that." He concurred, of course, and his response was classic
James Orange. "That's exactly why we are taking over the organizing of the
March," he said. "All of us need to make sure that the March is
relevant to the militarism, poverty, racism and anti-war issues that concerned
Dr. King. We're not going to let exploitive corporations and the military take
over King's message - no way!"

Many of us across the South also served with James on the board of the Southern
Organizing Committee for Economic and Social Justice (SOC) headed by the
renowned white activist Anne Braden. SOC was a diverse group of black, brown, Native
American and white activists. This was, of course, a natural for James as it
encompassed his broad interests.
In recent years James attempted to overcome his dislike of airplanes and
traveled frequently to South Africa to play a central role in South African
voter registration and education efforts prior to and after the 1994 first
democratic elections. He continued to support development efforts in South
Africa by characteristically making connections with those he knew in the
United States who could help in, for example, agriculture or transportation
needs. One of the key people who assisted James with the South African contacts
was the now deceased Atlanta chair of the African National Congress, Sifiso
Makhatini.
"We're not going to let
exploitive corporations and the military take over King's message."
James always had a bevy of folks around him. I called them his groupies. They
were usually young people he was mentoring but older folks surrounded him as
well. I don't think I can recall seeing James Orange without at least 4 or 5
people around him.
One of the last conversations I had with James was while he was in the hospital
in Atlanta in January this year just before the King Week events. As one would
expect, James was organizing from his hospital bed. "Leader," he
said, "I need you to help with the promotion of the King March and to
interview, on WRFG, Premier S'bu Ndebele, from South Africa, who is heading the
march this year." I did all of that, of course.
It almost goes without saying that when James Orange asked you to do something
you would do it because it was important and because you could trust him.
Invariably he was asking you to do something to advance justice in some way.
Primarily what James did in his organizing work, then, transcended himself. His
was always about the broader mission.
On the Thursday prior to the funeral I was calling friends attempting to find
out who was coming from around the country and South Africa for the service.
Suddenly I realized that normally for information on events it would be James I
would call. He would be on top of it all. It seemed he knew everyone and he was
one of the best in networking those who needed to be connected on any number of
projects. He rarely lost a moment. To make those connections, conference calls
with James were a must that invariably took place on the spur of the moment.
There are some who call James Orange an "unsung" hero. For those of
us who live in the South nothing could be further from the truth. James was
central to virtually every critical movement for justice in the South and the
country since the 1960's and we all knew it.
The King Chapel for James' funeral was filled with hundreds of people he had
touched and worked with. "Leader" he called those of us who worked with
him. Though I had heard James call others "leader," the first time he
called me "leader" I was taken aback. "What had I done," I
thought "to be so acknowledged by James Orange?" In fact, when, at
James' funeral, it was asked whom he had called "leader" about three
quarters of the audience stood.
"James' funeral was
filled with hundreds of people he had touched and worked with."
Charlie Orrock, a civil rights and labor activist in the South and also former
board member of SOC, described how he barged in on James' motel room when they
were in Kentucky for Anne Braden's funeral in 2006. James was only partly
dressed and shouted, "Leader, shut the damned door!"
There are countless James Orange stories out there. He seemed to have a
capacity to draw people out and make them feel good about themselves and about
the work they were doing. This is likely the hallmark of "real"
leadership.
When asked why James would call people "leader," however, there were
various responses. Invariably, the theme was largely that James recognized we
are all responsible for doing what we can to make the world more just. By
calling all of us "leader" he was anointing thousands around the
country and the world with that very mission. We are blessed he came our way.
Heather Gray produces "Just Peace" on
WRFG-Atlanta 89.3 FM covering local, regional, national and international news.
If you have James Orange stories please send them to Heather Gray at [email protected]
and she will send them to the King Papers Project at Stanford University that
is collecting James Orange remembrances, or please contact the King Papers
Project directly.