
          Witness In Montgomery
          By Williams, RandallRandall Williams
          Vol. 5, No. 4, 1983, pp. 1-6
          
          Not since the celebrated bus boycott of 1955-56 or the Selma March
days of 1965 has the atmosphere in Montgomery, Alabama, been so
charged with racial tensions. The immediate cause is a string of
incidents involving blacks and the Montgomery police, but behind these
cases looms a larger issue, Mayor Emory Folmar, a conservative
Republican who was beaten decisively by George_Wallace in the 1982
governor's election.
          Folmar is both mayor and de facto police chief of Alabama's capital
city, and his hard-line, love-it-or-leave-it attitudes on public
safety, community development, redistricting and other issues have led
to steadily deteriorating relations with the forty percent of
Montgomery's population that is black, as well as with a growing
number of whites. His critics, while recognizing that the recent
police confrontations were serious incidents, charge that a more
flexible personality and more responsive leader than Folmar would have
prevented their escalation into a full-scale community crisis.
          Now, the situation is reminiscent of the earlier civil_rights era
in this city known as the Cradle of the Confederacy. The black
churches are again the scene of mass meetings. The black leadership
has held well-publicized but private strategy sessions from which has
emerged an unusual--for recent years, at least--unanimity, including
an economic boycott of the city's largest bank. Picket lines have been
thrown up against a white-owned black radio station. Protest marches
have been held. A cross has been burned in the yard of the spokesman
for the black leaders.
          Several incidents since the first of the year have contributed to
the current situation. Most recently, an armed black_man was killed in
June by a white policeman 

responding to a report of a shooting in the
neighborhood. In May, a black_man who was apparently drunk but unarmed
was killed by a black policewoman. In April, a white policeman
seriously wounded an unarmed black_man who was mistakenly thought to
be an escaped prisoner.
          The first and most controversial incident occurred in February when
a group of black mourners was assembled in the deceased's home
following the funeral. Before the night was over, two white
plain-clothes policemen had been injured, one critically, and eight
mourners arrested. The police say they identified themselves, were
taken hostage and then beaten and shot. The mourners say the two
whites did not identify themselves as police but kicked down the door
to the house and charged in with their guns drawn, at which time the
blacks disarmed them and then called the police. Later, the mourners
say, more police arrived and the two whites tried to escape and shots
were fired.
          The two accounts vary so widely that Montgomery citizens can only
wait and hope that the upcoming trials will reveal the truth. However,
the police department's early handling of the incident was seen by
blacks and by many whites as a gross over-reaction and an attempt to
cover up possible improper conduct by the two officers. For example,
Police Chief Charles Swindall held a predawn press conference to
denounce the mourners as "wild animals who had their prey on the
ground." He used the word torture to describe the treatment of the
officers, said one of them had had his throat slashed requiring
seventy-five stitches, and made other highly inflammatory comments.
          This infuriated blacks, especially when the press later reported
that the most serious offenses on the records of any of the accused
were traffic violations, that the officer's "slashed" throat required
ten stitches instead of seventy-five, and that one of the officers'
guns was missing, despite the fact that police had immediately
surrounded the house and had searched everyone present, Also, the
police tape recorder did not work when it should have automatically
recorded radio transmissions and phone calls about the incident. In
addition, there were allegations that the accused were beaten
during;. interrogation.
          On the other hand, many whites and some blacks criticized
over-reaction by black leaders, too, notably the call by State
Rep. Alvin Holmes for federal authorities to place the city under
martial law. The circumstances of the incident cast grave doubt on the
conduct of the police, mused many Montgomerians, yet there was no
getting around the fact that two officers were severely wounded. Why,
asked whites, were there not some prayers for the two officers among
the vigils and protests that were being held in the black
community?
          The matter of the missing tape recording from police headquarters
was seen as similar to a mid-1970s scandal in which police wrongfully
shot a black_man, then allegedly planted a gun on his body. The
automatic tape recordings in that incident had been erased by the time
the prosecutor asked for them, and ultimately the public safety
commissioner, the mayor and nearly a dozen police officers resigned or
were fired.
          The mayor at that time was James Robinson, and his resignation led
to a 1977 special election which was won by Emory Folmar, who had been
the city council president. Ironically, Robinson is widely perceived
by blacks as a basically decent man who was trapped in the Whitehurst
scandal by accident, while Folmar is believed by many blacks to be the problem with the police department. In addition,
Folmar is seen as being generally hostile toward black interests if
not actively racist.

          Robinson usually enjoyed good relations with the black
community. In fact, Robinson was instrumental in changing the city's
form of government in the early 1970s from a three-man commission,
elected at-large, to the nine-district council, thus paving the way
for the first black elected municipal officials in Montgomery
history. When the first council elections were held in 1975, four
blacks and five whites were chosen, and the nine then selected Folmar
as the council president. It was Folmar's first venture into elective
politics, and from the council's first organizational meeting, he made
it clear that he meant to be a force to be reckoned with.
          His District Eight constituents were overwhelmingly white and among
the city's wealthiest and most conservative residents. Through a
combination of representing his district and his own philosophy of
government, Folmar was frequently on opposite sides from black council
members on issues ranging from council appointments to the allocation
of community development funds. In fairness to Folmar, it should be
said that he was not alone--many council votes were split five to four
along racial lines; but blacks resented Folmar most because he was not
only the council president but also its most powerful personality, and
at least two of the white council members invariably cast glances at
Folmar before raising their own hands during votes on controversial
issues.
          Two council debates are good illustrations. The first concerned
community development money, which was intended by Congress to help
eliminate what the planners call urban blight. To the blacks on the
city council, this meant the money should build sewers, sidewalks,
street lights and community centers in low-income areas, particularly
in black low-income neighborhoods which had been neglected in all the
decades past; Montgomery had several black neighborhoods as late as
1975 which had to use outdoor toilets because sewer lines had never
reached them.
          Long battles were fought over this money and in the end many sewers
and sidewalks were built. But the community development funds also
helped build a golf course at a recreation complex located on the
eastern edge of Montgomery near the suburbs where white residents have
been steadily relocating since World_War_II. Community development
money was also used for three neighborhood parks built in
predominantly white residential areas which were definitely not
blighted. Folmar did not win these projects without help, but he was
instrumental in their passage and his attitude was interpreted by
blacks as one of "I don't care what Congress said, we whites, poor or
not, are also getting some of that government money."
          A second case which increased the black council members' distaste
for Folmar resulted when blacks moved to rename a street in honor of
Martin_Luther_King Jr. The street in question, Jackson Street, was the
site of King's home for the years that he was the pastor of the Dexter
Avenue Baptist Church; this was the house that was bombed in the
Fifties while Coretta King and the children were inside. Folmar spoke
and voted against the renaming and then introduced a compromise which
would have named a section of Interstate 85, which passes through the
city, after King. This debate had occurred before, in the early
Seventies when Montgomery still had a three-man commission form of
government, and the Interstate compromise had been suggested then,
too. But that compromise failed because of opposition from state
officials. The issue then took on a new significance after blacks had
achieved voting power in city government.
          The argument was that it would be wrong to dishonor Andrew Jackson
in order to honor King, so the Interstate memorial was an alternative
and would be even more visible. Getting the memorial was symbolically
very important to Montgomery blacks and it was the first major
question with racial implications to come up after the four black
council members had taken their seats. They were disappointed that the
whites had felt it was necessary to put up a fight on the issue, and
they were not totally satisfied with the Interstate memorial since it
was not city property. But they accepted the compromise anyway, only
to discover that federal highway regulations prohibit the naming of
interstates for individuals. Rightly or wrongly, many observers, white
and black, believed that Folmar had known this fact all along and
deliberately led the council down a rabbit trail Ultimately, blacks in
the Alabama legislature pushed through a resolution and overcame the
federal obstacles and today all who pass through Montgomery on I85 see
a huge green sign proclaiming it Martin_Luther_King
Jr. Expressway. But the incident did not increase Folmar's stature in
the black_community, and relations with his black colleagues on the
city council have worsened since he became mayor and his power
increased.
          Gung-ho, stubborn, fiercely competitive, hardworking, and capable
are terms which are regularly used to describe the mayor. Hard-headed,
macho, dictatorial, intolerant, devious, racist, overly aggressive and
paranoid are some others.
          Employees at city hall say that if Folmar were judged on
administrative ability and dedication alone he would rank among the
best mayors any city could want. He is at his desk most days before
other employees have taken their morning showers. He is personally
wealthy-

before entering politics he was a shopping center
developer--and draws only a token dollar a year as his mayoral salary
(though a recent letter-to-the-editor writer argued-that he is
overpaid).
          He is an ex-Army officer who was a highly decorated hero of
Korea. He still keeps himself in rock-hard physical condition and has
a military approach to organization and discipline. Nowhere is this
more apparent than with the police, and it is in the area of law
enforcement that his critics are most severe. The critics come from
both inside and outside the police department.
          Outside critics charge that Folmar believes, and expects everyone
else to believe, that the police are always right; that he has
encouraged an us-versus-them mentality; that he tries to run the
department himself, and that the net result has been an increase of
harassment by police, especially of blacks and gays.
          "Just call our city Fort Montgomery and the mayor our
commander-in-chief," comments Joe Reed, a black city councilman who
has been Folmar's most persistent opponent in city government and who
is also the head of the Alabama Democratic Conference, the state's
leading black political organization.
          Adds Willie Peak, the white president of the city council, "Most
whites recognize there could be possible wrongs on both sides [of the
February confrontation]. Most whites are concerned about the 'we can
do no wrong' attitude of the police."
          Critics inside the police department also fault Folmar for trying
to run it like a military battalion with himself as general; for
imposing his decisions over those of experienced, career police
professionals, and for making promotions contingent on an officer's
personal loyalty and chumminess with the mayor.
          Since Folmar came to power, several high-ranking police officials
have retired from the department rather than accept the mayor's tight
control. Their privately stated grievances range from favoritism in
promotion, to what they view as a ridiculous obsession with spit and
polish, to Folmar's actual interference with field operations.
          It is true that Folmar has personally shown up at all hours of the
day or night to participate in or take charge of on-the-scene police
work, and that the officers who work as his bodyguards move rapidly
through the ranks, often bypassing officers of greater experience. To
give thy. example of just one officer, an example related by other
police, Folmar acknowledged the good work of the officer yet refused
to promote the man because "you're not loyal to me."
          Folmar is the police chief, observed one ax-officer. "He personally
promotes; Chief [Charles] Swindall doesn't have the gumption or the
power to do anything about it. Chief Swindall should have retired when
Folmar was reelected." Both current and ax-officers view this as a
bitter irony because they consider Swindall to be an excellent police
officer and actually a better chief than the man he replaced.
          Folmar's personal pistol-packing gave rise to the Montgomery joke:
"Question: Why is the Mayor's pistol chrome-plated? Answer: So it
won't rust in the shower."
          The police themselves tell and laugh at this joke, but they are
less amused by Folmar's parade inspections and pep talks. "These are
grown men he's having out here standing at attention. This isn't boot
camp," observed an ax-officer.
          Ex-police are also critical of the department's low salaries and
note that Montgomery taxpayers routinely spend five thousand or more
dollars to send a new officer through Police Academy training only to
have him leave for a better paying job after a year or two on the
force. Many ten-, fifteen-, and even twenty-year veterans are also
tempted out of police work for higher salaries with detective or
security agencies or state government job". Asked what he considered
to be the biggest problem with the Montgomery police, a high-ranking
official of the Alabama State Troopers replied, without hesitation,
"They have too many young officers because they don't pay enough to
keep experienced men."
          Several highly symbolic changes have been made in the police force
since Folmar became mayor. One was the repainting of all the police
cars from a pleasant, non-threatening light blue to stark black and
white. Another was the emergence of black SWAT-team style uniforms for
officers on the night shifts. The new uniforms replace the traditional
policeman's hat with a baseball-type cap without a badge and feature
bloused pants tucked into high lace-up military-style boots. The
people inside the cars and uniforms are the same as before, but the
difference in appearance is striking, and ominous.
          Ex-police say the night shift officers themselves sought the new
uniform because they believed it would be safer during the most
dangerous hours of police work--a shiny badge flashing in the night is
a better target. But the uniforms add to the military effect which
Folmar has encouraged for the department, and the change has not gone
unnoticed in the community. The uniforms were meant to be worn by the
third shift officers, but the hats, at least, have apparently been
adopted as a symbol by some officers, especially the younger ones, and
are routinely seen at all hours. Some older officers even doubt the
theory behind the new uniforms. "When we're out o~ the street," they
say, "we want people to recognize 

instantly that we're police"; and the traditional uniform tells them 
that.
          It is impossible to judge the accuracy of the allegation, but
people who say they have been harassed by Montgomery police,
especially young blacks, say in so many words that they believe there
are certain police or even squads of police who look for opportunities
to provoke people, and that these are the police who wear the
military-type uniforms. This may be only a perception, but it
increases fear and hostility and that creates trouble for the officer
on patrol. The state trooper official who spoke of low salaries
mentioned a second area of concern for Montgomery police:
"P.R.--they've also got a public relations problem. Brother, do they
need some better public relations."
          Even the ax-officers who are critical of the mayor, however, also
note that he reorganized the department into smaller divisions with
greater supervision and more officers on the street at all
times. Folmar and Chief Swindall claim that crime has been reduced
since Folmar took charge.
          A city government source from the Robinson era observed that Folmar
took office at a time when, due to the Whitehurst scandal, police
relations with blacks were at a low point. And then, rather than take
steps to identify and correct the problem, it seems that Folmar's
actions made things worse.
          Not all of Folmar's strong-arm tactics were aimed specifically at
the black_community, however. Soon after he took office the police
conducted an illegal drug search of patrons at a rock concert at the
Montgomery Civic Center. Every person entering was searched, with or
without probable cause, and a number of arrests were made. The arrests
were nullified after a federal judge sharply rebuked the police
actions--and the mayor--but three years would pass before another rock
concert was held at the Civic Center.
          City hall insiders also view with suspicion the scuttling by Folmar
of the reorganization that former mayor Robinson had
engineered. Basically, Robinson divided the city's departments into
several major divisions, each of which was headed by a professional
administrator who took care of the details and answered to the mayor's
office on policy and procedure. Folmar has dismantled this system, and
every department head in the city is under Folmar's personal
supervision--and knows it.
          Such is the background against which the current racial troubles in
Montgomery must be seen. Legal challenges have been raised to a
Folmar-backed redistricting plan for this year's city elections. A
federal judge has agreed with black challengers that the city's new
reapportionment plan was drawn to discriminate against black_voters
and black officeholders, particularly against long-time Folmar
opponent Joe Reed. After the ruling, Folmar said the city would
appeal, and he also issued what amounted to a personal attack on the
federal judge, who is black. Folmar's statement, to the effect that
the ruling was not unexpected considering the source, encouraged
disrespect for the law and for federal judges and bordered on outright
racism. Elections may or may not be held in October.
          Despite widespread discontent with Folmar, few have seemed
especially eager to challenge him. The strongest potential candidate
has been city council president Peak, but he has said he will not
run. The announced candidates to date are a young white businesswoman
who said she would drop out if a more experienced contender emerged, a
white contractor with connections to the business community, and
Franklin James, a member of a 

prominent Montgomery family and the
brother of former longtime mayor Earl James. Only James, who was once
the state's industrial relations director, has any political
experience. James announced his candidacy just as this issue was going
to press, and it is too early to assess his chances. However, his
political reflexes are evidently in good shape because he went
directly to the key issue: Folmar himself. James's opening statement
included references to the incumbent's ego, grandstanding tactics, and
lightning-rod administrative style. Montgomery needs a mayor, James
said, who can get along with all of the city's people, and who solves
problems rather than creates them. James also promised that his
industrial relations background would bring factories and jobs.
          Black council member Donald Watkins, an attorney who represented
the Bernard Whitehurst family after the 1976 shooting, has said he
will run against Folmar if "no credible white candidate comes
forward." (The statement was made before James or the contractor,
David Thames, announced their intentions; Watkins has not indicated
whether he considers Thames or James to be credible candidates.)
          Blacks acknowledge that no black mayoral candidate can win in the
face of a white electoral majority. However, the precinct totals
cannot be comforting to Folmar. He cannot be expected to get more than
a handful of Montgomery's black_voters, and 30.2 percent of the
registered voters are black. He is also a Republican, and although the
city elections in Montgomery are not partisan contests, he would still
be vulnerable against a strong white Democrat who can avoid
antagonizing the conservatives while still expressing some of the
misgivings many whites also feel toward Folmar's brand of
leadership. Folmar did not carry Montgomery in the 1982 gubernatorial
race against George_Wallace.
          Folmar recently presented petitions bearing what he said were more
than seventeen thousand signatures of Montgomery voters who wanted him
to run for reelection. However, no one has collected the signatures of
those who will vote for anyone else, and Folmar
is obviously sniffing the political winds. While he had, earlier
rejected calls for committees to probe issues causing racial tensions,
he changed his course a few weeks ago and announced his own bi-racial
committee. He appointed the chairman and vice-chairman and invited
council members to nominate three persons each to the new
committee. So far, three of the four black council members have
declined, saying the committee was created by Folmar for political
reasons and could never be effective while the chairman was appointed
by Folmar. Critics also say that Folmar made a mistake when he named a
white chairman and a black vice-chairman rather than two co-chairs,
and they view the structure of the committee as proof of Folmar's
determination to control even the discussion over Montgomery's current
problems. The committee received another wound when the black
vice-chairman, the president of Alabama State University, resigned
without attending a meeting, saying he could not take part in a
committee with such obviously political overtones.
          Meanwhile, an anonymous citizen known as Jack Smith has created the
Friendly Supper Club, which merely invites interested persons to show
up with a guest of a different race at an appointed time at a local
cafeteria to "break bread together" and get to know one another across
racial lines.
          The second of the dinners, in June, took place just one day after a
cross was burned in the yard of black county commissioner John Knight,
who is the spokesman for the boycott called by blacks against the
First Alabama Bank. Coming at a time of increasing attention to
Montgomery's racial troubles, the contrast between the cross-burning
and the Friendly Supper Club was too great for the media to pass
up. CBS and NBC both sent camera crews to town, and their reports
juxtaposed pictures of the charred cross in Knight's yard with shots
of blacks and whites smiling and talking around the cafeteria
tables. The local media especially made a point of the difference
between Folmar's beleaguered bi-racial committee and the independently
created Friendly Supper Club. Dialogue was the order of the day, but
it was not the Mayor who was doing the talking.
          One of those at the June dinner was Johnnie Carr, the president of
the Montgomery Improvement Association, which sponsored the bus
boycott in 1955-56. Dialogue is fine, said Mrs. Carr, but it is not
the solution. "When a city of this size can't find a decent leader for
mayor, I have to ask what is wrong. Folmar accuses us of crying
'racism,' but when you look at the man's record, how do you explain it
except as racism?"
          Mrs. Carr said the black_community views Folmar's creation of the
bi-racial committee as a belated attempt to gloss over the current
problems. She believes the strategy will not work.
          "We don't need a bandaid," she said. "We need a good physical
examination, and then we're going to have to have some political
surgery."
          
            Randall Williams is a Montgomery resident and a
contributing editor of Southern_Changes.
          
        
