I have always been fascinated by “The South.” Southern hospitality, chivalry, the lush landscapes and romanticism that I’ve read about… and then on the other hand, a tragic history of slavery and racism. I know that’s not something that was/is exclusive to the South, but it’s just such a difficult dichotomy to reconcile. As a result, I have really looked forward to visiting civil rights sites and trying to imagine what it would have been like to be a part of that struggle. We listed to a lot of documentaries and accounts of historic civil rights moments as we drove and they really set the stage.

Our first stop, and the one that impacted both Chad and me the most, was Selma, Alabama. This is where activists attempted and finally succeeded in a 50 mile march to the state capital to demand equal voting rights. Black voters were subjected to poll taxes and bogus literacy tests (count the jelly beans in this jar, count the bubbles on this bar of soap…).

The first time they attempted the march resulted in “Bloody Sunday.” As the group of a few hundred attempted to cross the bridge, officers told them to turn back and before they could do so, the officers attacked with clubs and dogs and on horses.

The second time they attempted to cross, they were also stopped, this time without violence. Martin Luther King Jr. stopped and prayed and to everyone’s disappointment decided they should turn back and wait for the full force of the law to be on their side.

As a result of the nation seeing images and footage of “Bloody Sunday” in the media, the third attempt at the march was finally successful and not long after, the Voting Rights Act was passed.

It’s hard to explain, but it really felt like holy ground there. There was such a strong feeling of peace and love. We passed many people walking the bridge of all different races and each would look us in the eye and smile. I think we all felt peace and gratitude for how far our country has come. It was surreal to walk where MLK Jr and so many other brave people had done so. We met an awesome man and his family, I wish I could remember his name, but he told us about growing up in the area and that he had family members who participated in the march and that “it’s all about love” and that “we are all God’s children” and that’s all that matters. We parted with hugs and again an awesome feeling of peace and connection.

This church, Brown Chapel, was where the march was organized and started and where civil rights leaders met and preached.

When I told the kids we were going to Alabama a couple of days earlier, Lilly said, “Montgomery, Alabama? That’s where Rosa Parks and the bus strike happened.” Kate knew about Rosa Parks too and I was so impressed so we definitely had to stop in Montgomery.

This church in Montgomery was where MLK was a pastor for most of his career.

Finally, we went to the Civil Rights Institute in Birmingham, also nicknamed “Bombingham.” Segregation and violence were especially bad there and it was sobering to see examples of both.

The park above had sculptures representing what had happened to a group of youth who held a peaceful protest against segregation there and were attacked by fire hoses and dogs and thrown in jail. The church across the street, 16th Street Bethel Baptist, was bombed multiple times, but the instance that caught the nation’s attention was when 4 girls were killed by one of the bombs. The museum was both sad and hopeful, you could also see the progress and change that has happened. I love this quote from MLK “The arch of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

On a lighter note, Alabama is one of the most beautiful states I’ve ever seen with the gorgeous rolling forested hills and picturesque rivers. I would love to explore it more!

Also, this sign made me laugh! There were SO many churches in Alabama. I couldn’t believe how many we passed!