A Day with Bubba and "Nine Humble Children"

We spent the morning at the William Jefferson Clinton Library and Museum, and of course it made me love Bill and Hillary more than ever, and it even made Matt like Bill a little bit, although “not as a person.”   The library sits on the banks of the Arkansas River in Little Rock, with a magnificent, modern building and beautiful grounds.  We saw the requisite model of the Oval Office, letters to and from such celebrities as Mr. Rogers, Dom DeLuise and Sheryl Crow (all praising and supporting Bill), Hillary’s Christmas gown, memorabilia and gifts from his time in the White House.  My favorite part was the audio tour, narrated by Bill himself in his scratchy, boyish voice.  The introductory film was also narrated by Bill. 

One interesting comparison with other Presidential Museums I have seen: there is usually a whole room, or series of displays, on the First Lady – the gowns, the jewelry, the important issues she supported.  Betty Ford on the ERA and breast cancer; Rosalynn Carter and mental illness; Mamie Eisenhower’s hair style, and so forth.  But there really wasn’t any separate space for Hillary in this museum.  They only had one of her dresses, and the whole section on the White House was all about “Bill and Hillary” planning the décor, the themes, receiving the guests etc.  In the “early years” section, Bill did tell the story of meeting Hillary at law school, and repeated his oft-repeated line that she is “the most interesting person I know.”  In my opinion, they were really trying to downplay her role as “First Lady,” perhaps in order to leave room for other roles she has played (or hopes to play in the future): US Senator, Secretary of State…President of the United States?   

The Clintons are wildly beloved in Little Rock, and the love was definitely infectious.  I heard words of praise for Bill spoken by everyone from Nelson Mandela to the lady who ran the bed and breakfast we stayed in.  The Clintons were fantastic, kind neighbors, brilliant, hospitable, and fun to be around.  Bill could talk to anyone from the secretary of the United Nations to the poor tenant farmer.  He could explain his policies, listen keenly, and laugh uproariously.  I was reminded of the government shutdowns of the mid-nineties and how Bill faced them down, of the creepiness of Newt Gingrich and Bob Dole, of the intervention in Kosovo, of the forgiveness of the debts of developing countries, of the respect the United States enjoyed during Clinton’s presidency.  Arkansans want Hillary to run, but they also feel protective of her, and are worried about the attacks she will inevitably face.  Apparently Ken Starr can’t set foot in Arkansas to this day; nobody will serve him at restaurants and “he might be able to stay at a chain hotel, but nobody else would put him up.”  I found myself hoping more than ever that the Clintons might be back in the White House in 2016!

Maybe this will apply again!

On a side note, I also learned that Mike Huckabee is universally despised in Little Rock, and that his wife is considered to be one of the most horrid, shrewish women ever to walk the Arkansas soil.  Unlike the Clintons, who flung wide the gates of the governor’s mansion to Christmas carolers, neighborhood children and local Arkansas artists, the Huckabees slammed them shut.  Bill had collected original paintings and first edition books by Arkansas artists and writers; Mike gave them all away to a big donor and wallpapered over the bookshelves in the library in the governor’s mansion with wallpaper that looked like books!  The state police had to be sent with a warrant to the donor’s house to reclaim the property of the people of Arkansas!  I love stories like that.

Just on the other side of Daisy Bates Boulevard sits Little Rock Central High School, where nine incredibly brave kids started school in the fall of 1957.   

The Arkansas National Guard, as directed by Governor Orval Faubus, blocked their way.  Central High School was the top white kids' high school in the city; it's still the top high school in the state.  As we drove up, I realized that the National Historic Site was actually aattached to a normal, big high school, just like any other high school in the country: African-American kids, white kids, Hispanic kids, just walking around carrying their books and backpacks, talking in groups, all with their phones out, just hanging out like segregation had never happened.  It was stunning.

As you all probably know, President Eisenhower had to send federal troops, the 101st Airborne, down to Little Rock to protect the kids from the angry mobs who threatened them.  These mobs were so violent that the police were scared of them.  They beat up a bunch of journalists who had come down to cover the crisis.  The visitor center had all the TV footage that everyone watched; it was one of the first big TV events, where the entire country could see the incredible violence and hatred of the segregationists up close.  There were also audio and video interviews with the kids, parents, bystanders, journalists, etc.  The worst part was the harassment, the bullying that went on every single day those kids were at the school that year.  I always thought about the early days, the way the governor ordered the door blocked, the angry mobs, but for some reason I thought it just ended when the federal troops arrived.  I thought things died down and went on like normal.  I didn't think about the way they were hit with rocks or baseballs in the head during PE class, kicked, threatened, insulted.  One girl, Melba Patillo, had acid thrown into her eyes during chemistry class. Others described urine and feces being put into their lockers on a regular basis, so they had to keep their books with them all the time.

I stood on the grounds of the school, thinking about how much courage it must have taken for those kids, when "normal" high school kids have social anxiety about being accepted, being liked, being a "part of," and the Little Rock Nine spent that entire year being basically tortured every day, but they kept going to school.  The following year, the governor closed the school completely for a year, and the struggle kept going.  Two of those kids, as adults, don't even live in the United States.  However, in 1999 they were all awarded the Congressional Gold Medal by (who else) President Clinton at a White House ceremony.  This is the highest civilian award the US can present, and it has only been given to 300 people in this nation's history.  Twelve years earlier in 1987, for the 30th anniversary of the crisis, Clinton invited the Nine to the governor's mansion and showed them around the rooms where Faubus had plotted to keep them out of school.  I had started crying while watching the video of the ceremony that was showing at the Clinton museum.  I broke down once more as I stood on the steps of the school, remembering the bravery of those kids in the face of such hatred.  Finally, we visited the state capital building, where there is a graceful sculpture of the nine children, and I cried again.

 Like being on a Civil War battlefield, being on a Civil Rights battlefield is a lot more potent for me than just hearing the stories.  

Here are a couple of links: 1) An Interview with Melba Patillo Beals about her book, Warriors Don't Cry, which she finally published in 1994 and 2) The full video of the Congressional Medal Ceremony, both somewhat long but well worth watching if you have the time!