United Press International Newspictures and the U.S. civil rights movement
United Press International photo
- Johnny B. Jenkins
George Polk Award winning photograph of Elizabeth
Eckford walking toward Little Rock Central
High School, surrounded by jeering students and
presumed parents. Eckford was one of
nine African-American students whose
admission to the school was ordered
by a federal court. 1957.
- Johnny B. Jenkins
George Polk Award winning photograph of Elizabeth
Eckford walking toward Little Rock Central
High School, surrounded by jeering students and
presumed parents. Eckford was one of
nine African-American students whose
admission to the school was ordered
by a federal court. 1957.
Excerpted with permission from Picture This! The Inside Story and Classic Photos of UPI Newspictures
(c) 2006, Gary Haynes
UPI photographers distinguished themselves covering the biggest story of the generation, and a movement that profoundly changed the country -- the civil rights unrest in the South in the ‘60s. In many Southern towns there was scant difference between the cops and the Klan. Many citizens were both, and whether wearing a badge or a hood, they did not hold the press in high regard.
Laws applied on a sliding scale based on skin color. Whites could call the police and get help. For blacks, the police were often part of the problem.
Everything was segregated: schools, churches, drinking fountains, hotels, motels, theaters, restaurants, libraries, elevators, neighborhoods, and even cemeteries. Signs on public restrooms read “Men” “Women” and “Colored.”
James Meredith enrolled as the first black student at the University of Mississippi in Oxford in September 1962. Before he got to his first class, 30,000 U.S. troops were needed to quell the rioting. The mayhem involved 3,000 people, including students, local citizens, and Klan groups from Florida to Texas incited by Mississippi governor Ross Barnett. The mob fought U.S. marshals with bricks, bottles, stones and homemade bombs. Two people died and 60 marshals were injured, 27 of them by civilian gunfire.
Seven UPI photographers eventually assembled in Oxford, the late arrivals sharing UPI’s single room, which doubled as darkroom, because no other accommodations were available.
French journalist Paul Guilhard visited UPI’s for advice - get rid of the beard and suit and blend in – but he ignored it. He was found dead the next morning on campus, a bullet in his back.
Hundreds of students took part in the riot; not one was ever expelled. Thousands of outsiders participated in the mayhem; not one was ever convicted.
The small core of photographers who returned again and again to cover the civil rights struggles of the ‘60s have little doubt that the power of their photographs shifted the national consciousness, made a difference in people’s lives, and helped spur passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
(c) 2006, Gary Haynes
UPI photographers distinguished themselves covering the biggest story of the generation, and a movement that profoundly changed the country -- the civil rights unrest in the South in the ‘60s. In many Southern towns there was scant difference between the cops and the Klan. Many citizens were both, and whether wearing a badge or a hood, they did not hold the press in high regard.
Laws applied on a sliding scale based on skin color. Whites could call the police and get help. For blacks, the police were often part of the problem.
Everything was segregated: schools, churches, drinking fountains, hotels, motels, theaters, restaurants, libraries, elevators, neighborhoods, and even cemeteries. Signs on public restrooms read “Men” “Women” and “Colored.”
James Meredith enrolled as the first black student at the University of Mississippi in Oxford in September 1962. Before he got to his first class, 30,000 U.S. troops were needed to quell the rioting. The mayhem involved 3,000 people, including students, local citizens, and Klan groups from Florida to Texas incited by Mississippi governor Ross Barnett. The mob fought U.S. marshals with bricks, bottles, stones and homemade bombs. Two people died and 60 marshals were injured, 27 of them by civilian gunfire.
Seven UPI photographers eventually assembled in Oxford, the late arrivals sharing UPI’s single room, which doubled as darkroom, because no other accommodations were available.
French journalist Paul Guilhard visited UPI’s for advice - get rid of the beard and suit and blend in – but he ignored it. He was found dead the next morning on campus, a bullet in his back.
Hundreds of students took part in the riot; not one was ever expelled. Thousands of outsiders participated in the mayhem; not one was ever convicted.
The small core of photographers who returned again and again to cover the civil rights struggles of the ‘60s have little doubt that the power of their photographs shifted the national consciousness, made a difference in people’s lives, and helped spur passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.