Uncrowned Community Builders

Oh how I loved Booker T. Washington High School and the wonderful teachers that we had. It is true that the school lacked a lot of things. We didnââ?¬â?¢t have a cafeteria, library, auditorium, or gym. But in those days, people didnââ?¬â?¢t give up and throw in the towel over little problems, or even over big problems like racism and poverty. They made do with what they had. What we had was an outstanding principal, Mr. Ellis Walker Woods, and fine teachers like Mr. West, the science teacher, good coaches, and parents who stressed education and disciplined us firmly. If anyone got in trouble at school, he or she was in double trouble at home later.

How did we make it without proper facilities and supplies? We improvised; thatââ?¬â?¢s what we did! No cafeteria? No sweat! We brought our lunch from home, walked home for lunch, or did without lunch. Some students sneaked down on Greenwood to ââ?¬Å?The Beaneryââ?¬, but Mr. Woods really got onto you if he found out. No library? Mr. West brought his personal books from home and used an extra room to start our first Booker T. Washington Library. No auditorium? Booker T. Washington was a two story building with a basement, and a second floor which was supposed to be divided with three rooms on each side. One side was not divided and that undivided side became our auditorium or whatever else we needed it to be. We were experts at ââ?¬Å?making do.ââ?¬

Even with ââ?¬Å?make doââ?¬ facilities and cast-off supplies from white schools, Booker T. Washington students excelled. One year Jim Ellis represented the school in the city Spelling Bee. He and a white boy were in a showdown. Eventually, Jim missed a word and came in second. We were so proud of him. Another time Lillian Briggs represented the school and come in fourth. We just never let anything stop us. That included sports. The school was too poor to buy uniforms for the girlsââ?¬â?¢ basketball team, so we made our own ââ?¬Å?uniforms.ââ?¬ We got yards of jersey cloth-a bolt of black cloth, and a bolt of orange cloth-and made our ââ?¬Å?Bumble Beeââ?¬ uniforms. One leg of the bloomer was black and the other one was orange. We were supposed to look like orange and black bumble bees. Those were the school colors and the bumble bee was the school mascot. We were some fine looking girl Hornets in those home-made bloomers and jersey tops, if I do say so myself!

We were so proud of that school. And even though it was segregated, and unequal to white schools, we got the best education possible under those conditions. Mr. Woods inspired and motivated us all ââ?¬â??students, teachers, parents-to do our very best. I will never forget a message he gave to the student body at an assembly in the 1920ââ?¬â?¢s. He said that we were as good as ninety-nine percent of all people, and better than the other one percent. We believed that and we never stopped proving that Mr. Woods was right.

In fact the night that the Tulsa Race Riot began, I was studying for my final tests at Booker Washington High School. School was going to be out in two days. Oh, what a tragedy that race riot was! It burned everything we had. We lived on King Street over in the middle of some train tracks. A man knocked on our porch and said put out the lights. There is fighting and burning on Greenwood. I went to bed. Soon a young man, a family friend, came from the hotel on Greenwood to our door. He was so scared, he asked if he could to lie down. When daylight came, the people were moving down the train tracks like ants. We joined the people. My mother, cousin, and I soon lost my brother and our friend. Everyone was going to the Golden Gate Park located on the East Side where Crawford Park is now. It was just weeds, grass, and trees then. A man came by and asked my mother to follow him. So we went on out in the woods. We met people about 12:00 oââ?¬â?¢clock noon. We lay on the ground to rest. We were near a house and the man asked for water. The white man came back with him and told us all to come into his house. It was about 4:00 oââ?¬â?¢clock p.m. then. Men came by in cars and took us to the fairgrounds. There we were given food, water, and pop.

We were given mattresses to sleep on and something to eat the next morning. The man we were with asked Mother to keep his gun. He said he was going to help bury the dead. When he came back, he got his gun and we never saw him again. A man then offered to take us home. Going through Greenwood, I thought I would never come back to Tulsa. Greenwood was a war-torn place. When we got home, we found the only things that were not burned were something like metal-pieces of stoves or beds. All the trees were burned; everything was gone! By then, trains were coming into Tulsa. We went to Sapulpa where my motherââ?¬â?¢s sister and family lived. There we found my brother and friend who had swum across the Arkansas River to escape the riot.

By August of 1921 we were back in Tulsa looking for work. My mother found a place where she could live. She would do laundry and clean once a week to live in a small room and bath attached to the garage. This room was called ââ?¬Å?the quarters.ââ?¬ Most white people had quarters. Soon there were houses built by Negro men in the Greenwood area. Someone would rent a house and families would rent a room. Oh, I will never forget that riot as long as I live. I can shut my eyes and still see the smoke, fire, and ashes from that awful riot. Iââ?¬â?¢ll never forget it. No, not ever!

Reprinted with permission of author, Eddie Faye Gates.