North Carolina posed legal strategies to preserve segregation, as the North's racial progressivism ignored its own racism
The jail sentence and probation Cusick received because of his activism prevented him from grassroots organizing in North Carolina for a prolonged period of time. He reveals the extent to which the state fought to preserve segregation. Cusick ironically illuminates northern racism.
Citing this Excerpt
Oral History Interview with Pat Cusick, June 19, 1989. Interview L-0043. Southern Oral History Program Collection (#4007) in the Southern Oral History Program Collection, Southern Historical Collection, Wilson Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
Full Text of the Excerpt
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
How did you feel when these sentences came down? More people were
sentenced than you expected, much, much harsher sentences, even bizarre
sentences.
- PAT CUSICK:
-
In prison, the lifers and all those folks would say, "Like, all
you got is a year? I could do a year standing on the top of my
head." I mean, that was regarded as a joke. It was no joke to
me. When I heard him say twelve months of hard labor, my
heart literally sank. I mean that seemed forever. And
having been in before, I knew it was not going to be a picnic. I think
we were pretty shocked by the length of the sentences.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
It wasn't only the sentence itself, the active sentence. Long
probation with these conditions.
- PAT CUSICK:
-
Oh yes, I have a copy. I happened to be going through some stuff last
night. Did I ever remember to bring the, yes, this is the original.
[Gets out a paper] The judgement was a year at hard labor for blocking
the way to a public [unclear] place of
worship, and then two years for resisting arrest, which was going limp.
And the judge asked, "Will the defendant consent to a suspended
sentence on the two years and be placed on probation?" And I
turned to the attorney and said, "What does this
mean?" And he says, "Let the record show that the
defendant refused to answer." So I then went back to another
room, and they had this probation agreement, which we will look at, for
me to sign. [interruption]
This very paper. So I said, "I'm not going to sign
this. I'm not going to sign this." Actually,
it's a moot question whether it is a violation of my rights,
but at the time I said, "I think this is a violation of my
rights." So, I said, "I'm not going to
sign." And so they said, "Well, you have exactly two
minutes, and if you don't sign, the judge will make this an
active sentence, and you'll have three years to serve instead
of one." So I took almost two minutes and decided I would sign.
I said, "Give me the pen." That very signature. So
that was a surprise. But, of course, everyone was
placed under that same prohibition, and that was designed, of course, to
effectively block, stop, the movement in Chapel Hill.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
So not only were they putting you away for one year, they were insuring
that you couldn't do anything connected with the civil rights
movement anywhere.
- PAT CUSICK:
-
That's right. But also, there were subsequent trials and
stuff, and there were people that didn't serve any active
time that still had that judgement. So it meant there could be nothing.
And as you notice, that's for any cause whatsoever, or for
associating. So things looked pretty grim. But you know, we really
believed in what we were doing, and we really thought we were going to
change the whole fabric of this country. We didn't do that
but it's a good thing we thought we were though, I think.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
After the sentences, did you think that anything was going to happen
then?
- PAT CUSICK:
-
Well, I thought that in Chapel Hill the movement had been temporarily
stopped.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
[unclear] despair?
- PAT CUSICK:
-
Oh no, I wasn't in despair at all over the movement. Because I
thought the movement would succeed, and it would only be a matter of
time in Chapel Hill. It's just like I feel about Beijing
today. They clamped the lid on, and it will be very effective for a
while, but obviously that movement there is not over. So, you know, it
was a lot of cold water dashed in your face on that thing. And then I
was in prison when Cheney, Goodman, and Shwerner were killed. And
Goldwater was nominated and gave his
famous—what was it?—extremism in defense of
liberty is not … whatever. So it was kind of a frightening
summer. But we weren't in despair, not happy, but it did look
like the movement was effectively stopped in Chapel Hill. But I had no
doubt that throughout the South, we were going to get something. It was
just too widespread. I had been to Danville and different places and met
too many of these young students that—so very optimistic,
though temporarily not liking where I was.
They also did other things too. I mean when I went full-time with the
movement, I owed Sears some money, and all of us were in debt. We were
served with additional stuff the first day in, additional time, if all
these things weren't paid off, and Floyd McKissick paid them
off. They kept coming out with additional warrants to every creditor on
earth. We had pled for parole, and by this time John Ehle was becoming
an advocate of ours to try to get us out.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
And he had connections in the governor's office.
- PAT CUSICK:
-
Right. He's quite an idea person. He's the one that
came up with the idea for the North Carolina School of Performing Arts
and different things which had worked. But the word came back that we
were not going to get parole unless we agreed to go north. By that time,
I was alone—they had split us up—and I said,
"Well, I'm not going north. I mean, I'm a
tenth generation, or whatever, southerner. I'm not going
north." And so then they came back with a probation officer to
talk about the terms of the probation, and they laid some additional
ones down. The one that really got me, when I
really saw the handwriting on the wall, was they had to approve of my
employment and all of this. So it certainly meant I wasn't
going to be a movement organizer, at least not on the surface. But they
told me that I would not be able to operate a motor vehicle, nor ride in
a motor vehicle, in the state of North Carolina during this five year
probation.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
In other words, don't come back.
- PAT CUSICK:
-
So I saw very clearly that if I did not leave, obviously I would be in
prison. Because there is no earthly way you can honor that in a southern
state. I mean, it's not like Boston. You must at least ride.
So that's when I said okay. Then John Ehle had gone to work
for the Ford Foundation. They were funding a new agency in Boston called
Action for Boston Community Development, the CAP Agency, before the
Economic Opportunity Act passed. Ford was the sole funding source. In
order to get to the North, we had to have a job and a place of residence
and be accepted by a northern state. So Ford called up this
agency—they were the only funding source—and said,
"We need to get this person out of prison." So
that's why Boston was for me. John had also seen the computer
centers and Harvard and MIT, and there was a job waiting for me there,
which I refused to take. John Ehle wanted the book to come out right, in
his view, which was that we would all go back to doing what we were
doing prior.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
[unclear]
- PAT CUSICK:
-
I couldn't go back. I did not want to go back to math and the
sciences, so I took the job at ABCD as a coding clerk. The entrance to
Boston was something. I had five dollars. I had a shoebox marked
"North Carolina Department of Corrections," a
toothbrush. Leaving was interesting, they would not let me get near
Chapel Hill. They made that very specific. So Lavert Taylor, they
allowed him to drive a suit over to Greensboro, and they brought me into
the Greensboro airport under armed guard in my prison outfit. By that
time though I was getting out, and my sense of humor was very near the
surface. I just thought [unclear] the
looks of people. You can imagine. So I enjoyed that. I mean,
I'll be honest, I enjoyed that. So I went in the bathroom and
changed the suit and got on the plane and—culture
shock—was in New York an hour or so afterwards. John Donne
was already there in John Ehle's apartment on Washington
Square. So I spent the night in New York, and then John Ehle came up
here with me, and we went to ABCD. Then I saw my parole officer. Parole
officer said, "You did some good things in the South. I have a
lot of admiration for these southern negroes, but the negroes in Boston
are really awful people and not like the ones in the South, and you
can't associate with them." He said, "You
can't go into Roxbury." I didn't know
what Roxbury was. "You have to live someplace like the backside
of the hill or whatever, but you can't go to
Roxbury." And I said, "Oh, Lord." It was then
a couple of weeks later that I got this document in the mail, and they
told me that they were going… Yeah, so I had the parole to
serve out for a couple of months, and then this
was going to take place. So I had to deal with both the parole and the
probation people.
The parole and probation in North Carolina weren't working in
concert, and I guess I got permission from one and not the other to go
back because I pressed the case. What about my degree? I had one course
short, and so I'm not allowed in the state. Yet
you're requiring me to have to take the last course there. So
I went down to talk to them about that. And then all of a sudden I was
almost arrested on Franklin Street. I was scared to death. Whichever one
of these departments wasn't in concert with the
other—they may have been playing games anyway. Then this came
up here. I told them downtown—Ed Brooke was attorney general
and he was black—and I said, "I'm not
going to agree to this thing." And they said, "Well,
we have one-to-one treaties in all the states, and we're not
going to jeopardize the treaty with North Carolina. So we're
going to extradite you if you don't agree with
this." So at the same time I thought this would be a good place
to challenge this, because I'm not under the gun like the
people down there. So I broke the rules, and went immediately out, and
got a plane, and went to New York, and got the NAACP Legal Defense Fund
to write for my materials in the South, and institute a suit against the
commonwealth. When they finally wrote telling the commonwealth that they
had advised me not to agree to this and that they were thinking of
entering a suit, then they had a fit down here. They didn't
want that.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
This was over the issue of your going back to North Carolina without
clearly getting permission?
- PAT CUSICK:
-
Oh, no, no. I was saying I'm not going to abide by that.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
You're not going to abide by the probation conditions.
- PAT CUSICK:
-
So they said, "We'll extradite you." But
they didn't want a lawsuit. So they called me and they said,
"Well, look, we're advising North
Carolina—you do have to notify us, though, twenty-four hours
in advance of going to any civil rights meeting and any civil rights
activity or going to any meetings in Roxbury. Or at least in the morning
if the meeting's at night." So I had an opportunity
to really break their back on that, which I did. Actually, we were
upset. We really wanted to get this into court because a probationary
sentence is a sentence. It's a relaxed sentence. Instead of
being inside the wall, you're outside the wall. So whether
these are real violations of rights or not, you can make an argument
either way. So we very much wanted to get that into the courts because
the people in Orange County were under that same provision. So we were
disappointed that we weren't going to get to challenge it,
and that Massachusetts was relaxing. That was at the time, though, that
a white minister, Reverend James Reed, went to Selma and was killed in
Selma. So there was a sympathy march here of 60,000 people on Boston
Commons. One leg came from Cambridge, one from BU, and one from Roxbury,
the black community. I was an assistant coordinator of the march because
I had gotten active here. So I had a car full of what would have been
regarded as real tough Roxbury teenagers because I had a youth group
here. For some reason I always was good with
teenagers. We were going between all three legs to march. Well,
Massachusetts Probation Department had a car full of people and were
trying to follow me. The week prior to that, every morning I would call
him and say, "I'm picketing the federal building at
noon and tonight I'm going so and so." And they
would send people down to walk around the building with me. Two days
after that march—the people in the car behind me, who were
observing, were very frightened—they called me in and said,
"We're notifying North Carolina that we
don't have the time or the personnel to supervise you the way
they want. So just don't get arrested and report every thirty
days," which I did.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
[unclear]
- PAT CUSICK:
-
I found out half way though that it's the custom here, or the
practice rather, that if you serve half your probation, because of the
big clog in the courts, and if you haven't gotten into any
trouble, they go ahead and dismiss you, just as an administrative thing.
So I found out about that and I went down and asked them. So they
requested, they said, "We have to ask North Carolina."
So, of course, North Carolina said no, no way. So I'm
probably one of the few people who served a full probationary sentence
here.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
So you were on probation the full five years?
- PAT CUSICK:
-
That's right. Every thirty days I went.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
But it didn't stop you from being involved in civil rights.
People weren't getting arrested up here the way they had been
in Chapel Hill.
- PAT CUSICK:
-
And it was a whole different type of involvement.
- PAMELA DEAN:
-
Not throwing yourself under the wheels of a car.