By Lori Eidson-Riggles
I have always told my students that if I had lived during the Civil Rights Movement, I would be marching for equality. So when running races went virtual, I knew I had to run for equality. The Civil Rights Race Series asked runners to pledge miles for their Million Miles for Justice virtual run. I pledged and completed 52.4 miles--two marathons back to back.
I ran from the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma to the Montgomery State Capitol, the historic route of the 1965 Selma to Montgomery March. I wanted to run to honor all of the heroes who stood up for positive change.
As I ran over the bridge, I stopped and took a picture of a beautiful memorial for John Lewis. His words: “When we pray, we move our feet” spoke to me. I recited his words when I felt like giving up. I prayed to finish the distance that I set out to run, unaware that Mr. Lewis would pass away very soon after I completed the run. I reminded myself that the marchers faced much worse conditions compared to what I was experiencing. I ran this path because I believe that America is capable of fulfilling the dreams of those Civil Rights leaders so many years ago. I ran for the progress I’ve seen in Montgomery.
Thirty-three years ago, I ran for the first time in Montgomery. It was 1987, and I was visiting my family. My parents and brother and sister had moved to Alabama from Wyoming, where I attended college. During my visit to their new town, Prattville, just outside Montgomery, we went to a fast food restaurant, when all of a sudden a young man sat on a table. He shouted racial slurs and identified himself as a white supremacist.
I was horrified and wondered how this could be happening. I could not erase the image of the young white supremacist sitting on the fast food table in the hot humid southern town, no matter how hard I tried. So, my brother took me to Montgomery’s Riverfront and I ran. I ran and tried to block the image out. I ran to forget the young boy, who went to high school with my brother.
My memory of my first run in Montgomery reminds me of how displaced and angry I felt back in 1987. When I reported the white supremacist to the Prattville police, they laughed at me. They told me that they could tell by my Yankee accent that I “was not from around there.” I didn’t realize it then, but I was going to continue to hear that phrase many times over the years when I would speak out against blatant racism. I knew, right then after only stepping foot in the South minutes before, that if I remained silent, my soul would die a little.
“Welcome to the South!” a man at the police station said.
After a year, my family moved from that small town in Alabama to Montgomery. I never forgot what had happened. More than 30 years later, when I reflect on this event, it seems like it happened yesterday. That was the very day that I made a promise to myself to do everything I could to fight for equality. As a history teacher, I’ve been teaching equality in the classroom for 27 years. I try to do my small part to teach younger generations about standing up and refusing to be silent in the face of hate.
Recently, I went to the Riverfront to run the same path that I ran 33 years ago. Today, as I run past signs where slave auctions were held, I am once again overwhelmed by the torrid history of the city that I never left. What was once the first capital of the Confederacy became the birthplace of the Civil Rights Movement. The fountain that marks where slaves were once sold is now a beautiful artistic display of Black Lives Matter.
As I run past Montgomery schools, I know that they do not shy away from teaching this complicated history. I believe that this is a factor in the progress made in the city of Montgomery. All of those historical moments of shame are detailed in my textbooks and highlighted in my state standards. Teachers are sent to workshops, to make sure that they treat all children equally. Field trips are planned to places like the Legacy Museum, the Rosa Parks Museum, and the EJI Memorial.
As I run by Dexter Avenue King Memorial Baptist Church, I think of how many times my students have gone there on a field trip and learned about Martin Luther King, Jr. From a history of slavery and segregation, there emerged true heroes in the fight for racial justice--role models for my students.
As I run past the Alabama State Capitol in Montgomery, I reflect on the positive change. The city that was once a representation of “segregation forever” has a wonderful black mayor, Steven Reed. He organized the peaceful protests that were held recently, part of the Black Lives Matter movement. As I ran past one of the downtown buildings, I remembered what he said when I attended. He told us that the city has tried many things to promote change, but peaceful protest and reconciliation were what worked best in our city.
Mayor Reed wanted to work out an organized plan that would involve community leaders, himself, and police working together to come up with a plan for equality throughout Montgomery. I know that there are still issues that will need to be resolved in my community, but I feel confident that the leaders and people of Montgomery are willing to work together to make the changes that are needed for everyone.
After I left downtown Montgomery, nearing the end of my 52.4 miles, I ran to one of the many parks in the city to finish. I looked around and noticed masks and social distancing. I waved to the few runners dedicated and crazy enough like me to run in the Alabama summer in the middle of the day. What I saw did not reflect the “whites are the only runners” stereotype. I saw many different people, all running together in one park, just happy to be running. I tear up to see these different runners, who emulate the beauty of diversity in running. What a sharp contrast to when I first arrived in Montgomery.
That contrast and change is exactly what I find beautiful about my city, the city of Montgomery.
Lori discovered running at eight years old in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and it helped her cope with a challenging childhood. During her college years, she moved to Alabama, and eventually made it her home. She has been a teacher at Montgomery Catholic schools for 27 years. Her first marathon was the New York City Marathon, which she ran with NYRR’s Team for Kids (TFK) in 2016. Many of the runners in TFK became like family and helped her recover after being hit by a truck in what was the most physically challenging year of her life. Today, she has run the NYC, Boston, and Chicago marathons, and even 52.4 miles!
What a great story of running that personifies the black perseverance towards civil rights.