
          Blacks Elected in Wilcox County
          By 
            Williams, RandallRandall Williams
          Vol. 3, No. 1, 1980, pp. 20-21, 22
          
          For Larry Threadgill, whose family has been active in civil rights
organizing and Black politics here since the early 1960's, things are
looking up.  It has not been too many years ago that his older sister
was being beaten as she took the first pioonering steps to integrate
the local White high school.  Nor has Threadgill forgotten having his
shirt ripped off by the White superintendent of education as still
more Blacks tried to register at that same school a few years later.
          When he was subsequently expelled, Threadgill skipped from the 11th
grade to college and graduated with a pre-law degree.   In 1978, a
chance weekend visit to help a Black man campaign for office brought
him home.   His candidate did become sheriff and another Black was
elected tax collector, making history in Wilcox County.  Threadgill
chose not to go back to Atlanta.  Now in the election just past, four
more Blacks have won public offices in this Black Belt county in
southwest Alabama.
          At least it seems, change is in the wind here.
          In January, for the first time ever, Blacks will take seats on the
Wilcox County Commission and the Board of Education.   About 70
percent of Wilcox County's citizens are Black and they now have a
determined and effective political organization.  With a majority of
Black voters, at last united, they will elect more Blacks in two more
years and will control both these boards.  Given recent trends and the
mood of the Black electorate, it may now be impossible for a White to
be elected in Wilcox County.
          The Surprise is not that this is happening, but that it took so
long. In the restaurant at the Bassmaster Inn in downtown Camden the
morning after the September 2 Democratic primary, the mood of the
Whites eating there was eerily reminiscent of what one used to read
about Rhodesia.  The threat has not yet arrived, but its shadow looms
large on the horizon. "I'm about to sell what I got and move to to
Australia or somewhere," a forest ranger muttered.
          Asked if the effectivenss of the Black political organization does
mean that Wilcox Whites are now locked out of public offices, Larry
Threadgrill replied: " I hope it does not.  I hope we have some good
White peope in Wilcox County.  I would hate to completely segregate
the whole thing. I worked for integration in education and politics.
I would hate to turn around and defeat my purpose. All I want to see
is just some responsible people in office, be they Black, White,
Japanese or Indian.  If a Black is elected who doesn't have the
interest of the whole county at heart, I will work just as hard to get
him out as I'll to get a White out".
          Sheriff Prince Arnold echoes Threadgill, saying, "If a man goes in
there and proves that office is for the full power of the people, he
can get elected."
          Arnold became the youngest Black sheriff in the United States when he
was elected over five White opponents in 1978. Arnold's age, 27 at the
time of election, and his color gained him national prominence, an
invitation to President Carter's Salt II White House Conference, and a
seat at the 1980 Democratic National Convention. Arnold is generally
considered by both Whites and Blacks to have done a good job as
sheriff.  The statistics indicate that crime against persons and
property have declind slightly since he took office.  (Previously
White sheriffs had tended to ignore Black-on-Black violence; Arnold
put out the word early that he would not). He says he has tried to
fulfill a campaign promise to "treat everybody the same", making point
of keeping on his staff a white deputy who had been with the former
sheriff.
          "The only thing people want is to be treated like a human being and
Whites who do that can get elected.  But I don't know too many in the
offices now who do," Arnold says.
          The catch is theat the Whites who would be the most acceptable
candidate to Blacks, those who are themselves most willing to accept
Blacks, the young professionals, are the least likely to accept to
seek public office.  One such White man revealed that a group of about
30 young professionals recently met to discuss their shared belief
that the mayor of Camden was inadequate for the office.  The group
tried to select one of their own to run against the mayor, but each
person nominated declined too busy, not planning to stay in Camden,
conflict with job, etc. Not one of the 30 young professionals was
willing to run.
          Even if, however, Blacks take complete control of the government of
Wilcox County, they will be shut out of the greatest power base of
all, the economic bloc.  Wilcox is a relatively large county, roughly
900 square miles of land, some of the richest, balckest soil in North
America. Before cotton was dethroned, virtually all of this land was
farmed.  Most of the farms were huge by Alabama standards--3,000 acres
and up. Today 70 percent of the land is in pine forests, either
privately managed or under the control of the giant paper companies.
McMillan-Blodell, a Canadian wood products company built a $77 million
plant here in the 1960s and is now the county's largest employer (the
Wilcox Board of education is second).  Today's farm products are beef
cattle, soybeans and some cotton.  All farming is heavily
mechanized. If he has $80,000 to spend for a piece of equipment, it is
possible for one man, riding in an air-conditioned and CB-and stereo
equipped cab, to do the work that previously took a small army of
slaves, sharecroppers, or hired field hands.  There are only a handful
of Black landowners in the county, most of them in Geese Bend, the
isolated section on the far side of the river from Camden.  Blacks
there own farm land because of an experimental Farm Security
Administration program of the 1940s.
          The transition from crops to trees and the mechanization of the
farming created or coincided with,depending on one's point of view,
the exodus of Blacks from Wilcox County.  The county's population to
be 13,000. the loss has been among the Black population; the White
populaion has remained steady and may have increased slightly.  In
another two decades, the Black-White population in Wilcox County could
be about even.
          But meanwhile as long as they have a majority,  Blacks have an
opportunity to make substantial changes in the way Wilcox County is
run. The first necessary step seems to be to broaden the revenue
base. With control of the school board and the county commission, and
with a unified Black voting bloc, an increase in property taxes could
be effected.  This is not a new idea; as early as 1966 a published
report cited landowners' fears that Blacks would take control and
raise taxes.
          Will it happen? During the recent campaigns, the screening committee
asked the county commission candidates what they would do about
taxes.  One of the men who was ultimately elected said he thought the
answer was to impose a sales tax "because that would be easiest and
fairest".  The screening committee endorsed his candidacy anyway, hoping
that before he takes office he can be made aware of the distinctions
between progressive and regressive taxation.
          Should a tax initiative be successful, there would be considerable
irony in that the same wealthy landowners and merchants who dominated
the schools when Blacks' slice of the pie was almost invisible would
now have to pay for the improvements so long needed for education. Of
course, to effect significant change in taxation, Blacks will also have
to gain control of the Board of Equalization, a body which has the
authority to reduce property assessments if a lnadowner feels his
taxes are too high.   This board's members are nominated by the county
commission, the school board and the Camden city council. Aside from
the paternal attitude expressed by school board member Robert Lambert,
who says Whites need to control the board because Blacks are
financially inept, one wonders if White determination to control the
school board long after White children had left the public schools
might be linked to the essentials need to control the appointments to
the Board of Equalization.
          One also wonders why, in a county which has almost 70 percent Black
population, it has taken until 1978 and 1980 to elect Blacks to
important county offices. Sheriff Prince Arnold says it was fear that
kept Blacks from realizing the full strength of their numbers at the
voting booth "fear of the structure in this county".  School board
member-elect K.P.Thomas says flatly that the fear of losing their jobs
made many Black teachers work  against Black political efforts.  "Most
of the time to get hired, you had to make committments not to be in
this or be in that. During the election time the superintendent and
the school board members get out among the teachers and workers and
campaign against the people who are running.  This is what hurts us so
much."
          Fear, intimidation, White influence--each of these explanation is a
part of the picture of political ineffectiveness which handicapped
Blacks up to this time. It is a waste if effort, really, to wonder why
change was so long cominh. Wilcox county was one of the handful of
"cipher" counties in which there were no Blacks registered when the
Voting Rights Act was passed.  Says Monroe Pettway, a Black farmer, "I
remember when I wasn't no Black registered voters in Wilcox
County. Right there in Gees Bend we were the first ones to register
over to that court-house.  The White folks over there went crazy.
Acted like they didn't know where the courthouse was and some of 'e,
working in the courthouse."
          There is an expression "Colored Peoples' Time," which is sometimes used
(with no respect) to describe the in-their-own-time pace at which
older, especially rural, Blacksconduct their business. Certainly years
of dealing with the Wilcox White folks would teach one a thing or two
about patience, perseverance and prayer.  Ultimately, he best
explanation may be merely that it took time for Blacks to gain their
leadership network, and to realize, as Prince Arnold pointed out, that
"it could be done."
          Now, of course, time seems to be on the side of the Blacks, though the
Lord knows there are problems enough to keep them occupied.
          
            Randall Williams is an Alabama journalist now in Georgia 
          
        