Albany Jail Diary from 10 July–11 July 1962
Author: King, Martin Luther, Jr.
Date: July 10, 1962 to July 11, 1962
Location: Albany, Ga.?
Genre: Autobiography
Topic: Albany Movement
Martin Luther King, Jr. - Arrests
Martin Luther King, Jr. - Family
Details
In this handwritten journal, composed on a yellow legal pad, King recounts the events preceding his 10 July trial, resulting from his arrest the previous December. Following his conviction for parading without a permit, King reports being escorted to the jail, which he says is “by far the worst I’ve ever been in.” Describing the jail as a “dingy, dirty hole with nothing suggestive of civilized society,” King reflects on the emotional impact of his confinement: “Jail is depressing because it shuts off the world. It leaves one caught in the dull monotony of sameness. It is almost like being dead while one still lives.” Despite the emotional toll, King looks forward to visits from family and friends, especially his wife, Coretta, whom he credits with providing him with “love, understanding, and courage.” With forty-three more days left of his sentence, King reminds himself “that this self-imposed suffering is for a great cause and purpose.”
Tuesday, July 10
We left Atlanta in a party of seven [strikeout illegible] via Southern airline to attend court trial in Albany Georgia. The party included Juanita and Ralph Abernathy, Wyatt Walker, Ted Brown, Vincent Harding, Coretta and myself.1 We left Atlanta around 7:45 A.M. and arrived in Albany promptly at 8:50. We were met at the airport by Andy Young, who had preceded us the night before, Dr. William Anderson and the two detectives who had been assigned to us by the city. We proceeded directly to Dr. Anderson’s residence. There we had breakfast and discussed our possible actions in the event we were convicted. Dr. Anderson brought us up to date on the temper of the Negro community. He assured us that the people were generally enthusiastic and determined to stick with us to the end. He mentioned that several people had made it palpable clear that they would go to jail again and stay indefinitely. From all of these words we gradually concluded that we had no alternative but to serve the time if we were sentenced. Considering Church and organizational responsibilities we concluded that we could not stay in more than three months. But if the sentence were three months or less we would serve the time. With this decision we left for court
At 10:00 A.M. Judge Durden called the Court to order. He immediately began by reading a prepared statement. It said in short that he had found all four defendants guilty.2 The four defendants were Ralph Abernathy, Eddie Jackson, Solomon Walker and myself.3 Ralph and I were given a fine of $178.00 or 45 days on the streets. Jackson and Walker were given lesser fines and days, since, according to the Judge, they were not the leaders.
Ralph and I immediately notified the court that we could not in all good conscience pay the fine, and thereby chose to serve the time. Eddie Jackson joined us in this decision. Mr. Walker decided to appeal.4
After a brief press conference in the vestibule of the court we were brought immediately to the Albany City jail which is in the basement of the same building which houses the Court and the city hall.5 This jail is by far the worst Ive ever been in. It is a dingy, dirty hole with nothing suggestive of civilized society. The cells are saturated with filth and what mattresses there are [for?] the bunks are as hard as [strikeout illegible] solid rocks and as nasty as anything that one has ever seen. The companionship of roaches and ants is not at all unusual. In several of the cells there are no mattresses at all. The occupants are compelled to sleep on the bare hard steel.
When we entered our cell—Ralph and I were placed together in a single cell—we found it as filthy as all the rest. However, conscience of the fact that he had some political prisoners on hand who could make these conditions known around the nation, the chief immediately ordered the entire cell block to be cleaned. So with water, soap and lysol the boys got to [strikeout illegible] work and gave the a cleaning it so desperately needed.
The rest of the day was spent getting adjusted to our home for the next 45 days. There is something inherently depressing about jail, especially when one is confined to his cell. We soon discovered that we would not be ordered to work on the streets because, according to the chief, “it would not be safe.” This, to me, was bad news. I wanted to work on the streets at least to give some alternative to the daily round. Jail is depressing because it shuts off the world. It leaves one caught in the dull monotony of sameness. It is almost like being dead while one still lives. To adjust to such a meaningless existence is not easy. It is The only way that I adjust to it is to constantly remind myself that this self-imposed suffering is for a great cause and purpose. This realization takes a little of the agony and a little of the depression away. But, in spite of this, the painfulness of the experience remains. It is something like the mother giving birth to a child. While she is temporarily consoled by the fact that her pain is not just bare meaningless pain, she nevertheless experiences the pain. In spite of the fact that she realizes that beneath her pain is the emergence of life in a radiant infant, she experiences the agony right on. So is the jail experiece. It is life without the singing of a bird, without the sight sight of the sun moon and stars, without the felt presence of the fresh air. In short, it is life without the beauties of life; it is bare existence—cold cruel and degenerating.
One of the things that takes the monotony out of jail is the visit of a relative or a friend. About 1:32—three hours after we were arrested—our wives came by to see us.6 As usual Coretta was calm and sweet, encouraging me at every poit. God blessed my faith a great and wonderful wife. Without her love understanding and courage, I would have faltered long ago. We talked about the movement. I asked about the children. She told me that Yolanda cried when she discovered that her daddy was in jail. Somehow I have never quite adjusted to bringing my children up under such inexplicable conditions. How do you explain to a little child why you have to go to jail? Coretta has developed an answer. She tells them that daddy has gone to jail to help the people.
The rest of the day was spent sleeping, adjusting to the unbearable heat, and talking with the friends—Wyatt, Dr Anderson, Andy Young., Ted Brown Vincent Hardin and Att. [C. B.] King—who floated in.7 Around 11:00 P.M. I fell asleep. Never before have I slept under more miserable conditions. My bed was so hard; my mattress was so back was so sore, and the jail was so ugly
Wednesday July 11
I awake bright and early. It was around 6:00 to be exact. My back was still sore. Around 8:00 breakfast came. We had fasted all day Tuesday in order to prepare ourselves spiritually for the ordeals ahead. We broke the fast by eating breakfast. The food is generally good in this jail. This may be due to the fact that the food is cooked, not in the jail itself, but in a cafe adjacent to the jail. For breakfast we had link sausage, eggs and grits. I was pleasantly surprised when I discovered that the coffee had cream and sugar. In all other jails that I have inhabited we were not permitted to have sugar or cream in the coffee.
At 10:00 we had a visit from C. K. Steele, Andy Young and Henry Elkins, my summer assistant pastor. He had brought me some articles that my wife sent from Atlanta. They told us about the mass meeting. It was lively and extremely well attended.8 They wispered to us that a group was planning to march to the city hall around noon.
Around noon the group did march. They were led by C. K. Steele. All were arrested—about fifty. They were first brought to the city jails. We heard them as they approached singing freedom songs. Naturally this was a big lift to us.9
As the group neared the jail, two of the jailers came over and ordered Ralph and I to move over to what is known as the bull pen. This is a dark and desolate call that holds nine persons. It is unbelievable that such a cell could exist in a supposedly civilized society.
1. Vincent Gordon Harding (1931–2014) founded along with his wife, Rosemarie, Mennonite House in Atlanta to support the southern civil rights struggle. Theodore E. Brown (1915–1983) was assistant director of the civil rights department of the AFL-CIO.
2. Judge Durden upheld the validity of the city ordinance under which the defendants were charged and stated that King and Abernathy were given stiffer penalties because they were “leaders” (Vic Smith, “King, Abernathy Go to Jail Here,” Albany Herald, 10 July 1962).
3. Eddie Jackson, an Albany native, was twenty years old at the time of his arrest. Solomon W. Walker (1936–2013), of Atlanta, Georgia, received a B.A. in business from Morehouse College (1958), and was in charge of publicity for the Albany Movement.
4. Walker decided to appeal the court’s decision, stating his insurance business would suffer if he was jailed (Bill Shipp, “Albany Jails Rev. King; Negroes Vow to March,” Atlanta Constitution, 11 July 1962).
5. At the press conference, King said he chose jail “not in any spirit of martyrdom or for publicity purposes but to demonstrate to the world how strongly I feel about this whole situation” (Smith, “King, Abernathy Go to Jail Here,” 10 July 1962).
6. King refers to his wife Coretta and Abernathy’s wife Juanita.
7. Chevene Bowers “C. B.” King (1923–1988), the first African American lawyer in Albany, provided legal services for the Albany Movement, the freedom riders, and other incarcerated civil rights protesters.
8. A news report estimated that approximately 200 people gathered the morning of 11 July at Shiloh Baptist Church in “a ‘now or never’ effort to obtain [King’s] release and break down racial barriers” (Claude Sitton, “Protest in Georgia,” New York Times, 12 July 1962). Henry G. Elkins (1937– ) received a B.A. from Yale College (1959), his B.D. from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary (1962), and his Ph.D. from University of Chicago (1970). Elkins served as campus pastor at North Carolina College at Durham from 1962–1966. During the summer of 1962, Elkins was assistant pastor to King and Daddy King at Ebenezer. His primary responsibilities as assistant pastor were working with the Ebenezer youth group.
9. After the mass meeting at Shiloh, the Reverends C. K. Steele of Tallahassee and Robert Alfred, a minister from Albany, led a group of thirty-two in a march on Albany City Hall. All were jailed for demonstrating without a permit (Sitton, “Protest in Georgia,” 12 July 1962; Howard Zinn, “Albany: A Study in National Responsibility,” 1962). In a show of support for King and Abernathy, members of the African American community in Albany were seen wearing black arm bands, which Wyatt Tee Walker said symbolized “dead justice” (SCLC, Press release, “Joint statement of Drs. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Ralph D. Abernathy, president and treasurer of SCLC respectively,” 10 July 1962).
Source: MCMLK-RWWL, Morehouse College Martin Luther King, Jr. Collection, Atlanta University Center, Robert W. Woodruff Library Archives and Special Collections, Atlanta, Ga.