Madam Speaker, I rise to speak in strong support of H. Res. 398, the Recognizing the Forthcoming Centennial of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, recognizes one of the darkest moments in American history,…
Madam Speaker, I rise to speak in strong support of H. Res. 398, the Recognizing the Forthcoming Centennial of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, recognizes one of the darkest moments in American history, the Tulsa-Greenwood Race Massacre, that occurred in the African American Greenwood community of Tulsa, Oklahoma on May 31-June 1, 1921.
Madam Speaker, earlier this year I introduced a resolution (H. Res. 215 later modified as H. Res. 398), joined by 84 cosponsors, recognizing the centennial of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.
The resolution was reintroduced as H. Res. 398 to make technical corrections to allow the House of Representatives to vote on the measure.
On March 18, 2021, I am pleased to report that the H. Res. 398 passed the House as part of the House Rule for H.R. 1629, the Fairness in Orphan Drug Exclusivity Act, and H. Res. 275, the Condemning the horrific shootings in Atlanta, Georgia, on March 16, 2021.
As the great southern writer William Faulkner reminded us: ``The past is never dead. It's not even past.''
Madam Speaker, as I and other Members spoke in support of H. Res. 398, we recounted the hatreds, prejudices, resentments, and white supremacy that Black Americans witnessed and suffered in Greenwood a century ago are not dead; they are not even past.
A century ago, White rioters, local law enforcement, and self- appointed vigilantes claimed to be acting reasonably and in self- defense against what they feared was an upcoming Black uprising.
They resented the economic prosperity and self-sufficiency of the Greenwood community, which was known nationally as ``Black Wall Street.''
They viewed Black males as fearsome physical threats to their personal safety and as rivals to white women.
These baseless, irrational concerns are not a relic of the past, they are with us today and are what resulted in the deaths of George Floyd, Tamir Rice, Deonte Wright, Stephon Clark, Amidou Diallo, and hundreds of others too numerous to list.
In 1921, Tulsa, Oklahoma's Greenwood District, known as ``Black Wall Street,'' was one of the most documented prosperous African American communities in the United States.
The Greenwood community with a population of over 100,000 Black people had stores that sold luxury items, 21 restaurants, 30 grocery stores, a hospital, a savings and loan bank, a post office, three hotels, jewelry and clothing stores, two movie theaters, a library, pool halls, a bus and cab service, a nationally recognized school system, six private airplanes, and two black newspapers.
On May 31st of that year, the 35 city blocks of Greenwood went up in flames, at least 300 Black persons were murdered and more than 800 were injured; it is estimated that not less than 9,000 were left homeless and destitute.
These rioters reenacted the brutality of the mob from a hundred years ago in the hallowed halls of the Citadel of Democracy.
It should not be overlooked that the source of their irrational anger, hatred, and violent reaction was that Black Americans voted in overwhelming numbers in the Atlanta, Philadelphia, Milwaukee, and Detroit to oust the most negative, divisive, racially hostile, and incompetent presidents history, the 45th President, who presided over the deaths of more than 500,000 Americans, disproportionately Black and Brown.
The legacy of white mob violence inflicted upon the Black community of Greenwood has scarred the descendants of the victims of this American pogrom.
Madam Speaker, the events of January 6th have given us insight into what the people of Greenwood Oklahoma faced when they were attacked by a similar murderous mob.
H. Res. 98 is a reminder to the nation of the ultimate cruelty inflicted upon a people for dare believing that the promise of America was attainable by them and their achievements would be respected and protected by law.
But it does more than that, it puts the House of Representatives on record that the United States can achieve a more perfect union:
by condemning the violence and destruction perpetrated against the African-American community of Greenwood, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, the scene of the then-largest single instance of domestic terror against American citizens;
through the rejection and active opposition to the false ideology of White supremacy and condemnation of all groups and organizations that ascribe to this false system of belief and seek to perpetuate their views through violence and unlawful conduct;
by promoting tolerance and unity and taking actions to ensure that governmental policies and actions do not foster division, disharmony, or intolerance;
by calling upon all Americans to celebrate the ethnic, racial, and religious diversity that has made the United States the leader of the community of nations and the beacon of hope and inspiration to oppressed persons everywhere;
encouraging all persons in the United States to reflect upon the history of the United States as an imperfect but committed journey to establish a more perfect union and to cherish and exercise the rights, privileges, and responsibilities guaranteed by the Constitution; and
recognizing the commitment of Congress to acknowledge and. learn from the history of racism and racial violence in the United States, including the Tulsa Race Massacre, to reverse the legacy of White supremacy and fight for racial justice.
Madam Speaker, I will now briefly recount the horrific events cited in H. Res. 398 that were experienced by the law-abiding Black community of Greenwood on those terrible days.
In 1921, White supremacy and racist violence were common throughout the United States and went largely unchecked by the justice system.
In Tulsa, Oklahoma reports of an alleged and disputed incident on the morning of May 30, 1921, between two teenagers, a Black man and a White woman, caused the White community of Tulsa, including the Tulsa Tribune, to call for a lynching amidst a climate of White racial hostility and White resentment over Black economic success.
On May 31, 1921, a mob of armed White men descended upon Tulsa's Greenwood District and launched what is now known as the ``Tulsa Race Massacre.''
Tulsa municipal and county authorities failed to take actions to calm or contain the violence, and civil and law enforcement officials deputized many White men who were participants in the violence as their agents, directly contributing to the violence through overt and often illegal acts.
Over a period of 24 hours, the White mob's violence led to the death of an estimated 300 Black residents, as well as over 800 reports of injuries.
The White mob looted, damaged, burned, or otherwise destroyed approximately 40 square blocks of the Greenwood district, including an estimated 1,256 homes of Black residents, as well as virtually every other structure, including churches, schools, businesses, a hospital, and a library, leaving nearly 9,000 Black residents of the Greenwood community homeless and effectively wiping out tens of millions dollars in Black prosperity and wealth.
In the wake of the Tulsa Race Massacre, the Governor of Oklahoma declared martial law, and units of the Oklahoma National Guard participated in the mass arrests of all or nearly all of Greenwood's surviving residents, removing them from Greenwood to other parts of Tulsa and unlawfully detaining them in holding centers.
Oklahoma local and state governments dismissed claims arising from it the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre for decades, and the event was effectively erased from collective memory and history until, in 1997, the Oklahoma State Legislature finally created a commission to study the event.
On February 28, 2001, the commission issued a report that detailed, for the first time, the extent of the Massacre and decades-long efforts to suppress its recollection.
None of the law enforcement officials nor any of the hundreds of other White mob members who participated in the violence were ever prosecuted or held accountable for the hundreds of lives lost and tens of millions of dollars of Black wealth destroyed, despite the Tulsa Race Massacre Commission confirming their roles in the Massacre, nor was any compensation ever provided to the Massacre's victims or their descendants.
Government and city officials not only abdicated their responsibility to rebuild and repair the Greenwood community in the wake of the violence, but actively blocked efforts to do so, contributing to continued racial disparities in Tulsa akin to those that Black people still face today across the United States.
Madam Speaker, the pattern of violence against Black people in the United States, often at the hands of law enforcement, shows that the fight to end State-sanctioned violence against Black people continues.
As the American Historical Association stated, ``What happened in Tulsa was extreme, but not unusual. It is part of our Nation's heritage. We must acknowledge that heritage, learn from it, and do whatever each of us can do to ensure that it is just that--heritage, rather than a continuing practice.''
Madam Speaker, I include in the Record a more detailed account of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre that is based on the ``Final Report of the Oklahoma Commission to Study The Tulsa Race Riot of 1921,'' issued February 28, 2001.
Madam Speaker, I also ask the House to observe a moment of silence in memory of the victims and survivors of the Tulsa Race Massacre, and their descendants to carry the terrible memories of that horrific day and still grieve over the loss of so many loved ones and of faith in the American system of justice.
Mother Randle's Written Testimony for the House Subcommittee on the
Constitution, Civil Rights and Civil Liberties, May 19, 2021
I am blessed and honored to be talking with you today. It
means a lot to me to finally be able to look at you all in
the eye and ask you to do the right thing. I have waited so
long for justice.
My name is Lessie Evelyn Benningfield Randle. People call
me Mother Randle. Today, I am 106-years-old. 100 years ago,
in 1921, I was a 6-year-old child. I was blessed to live with
my grandmother in a beautiful Black community in Tulsa
Oklahoma, called Greenwood. I was lucky. I had a home. I had
toys. I didn't have any fears as a young child and I felt
very safe. My community was beautiful and was filled with
happy and successful Black people. Then everything changed.
It was like a war. White men with guns came and destroyed
my community. We couldn't understand why. What did we do to
them? We didn't understand. We were just living. But they
came, and they destroyed everything.
They burned houses and businesses. They just took what they
wanted out of the buildings then they burned them. They
murdered people. We were told they just dumped the dead
bodies into the river. I remember running outside of our
house. I ran past dead bodies. It wasn't a pretty sight. I
still see it today in my mind--100 years later.
I was so scared--I didn't think we would make it out alive.
I remember people were running everywhere. We waited for the
soldiers to come, and when they finally came, they took us to
the fairgrounds where we would be safe. It felt like so long
before they came.
I survived the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre. And I have
survived 100 years of painful memories and losses.
By the grace of God, I am still here. I have survived. I
have survived to tell this story. I believe that I am still
here to share it with you. Hopefully now, you all will listen
to us. While we are still here.
The white people who did this to us, were filled with so
much hate. It is disgusting that they hate us for no reason
except that we are Black people.
We know--most of the people who committed these acts are
dead now. The three of us here today, are the only ones
left--that we know of. But just because these men are
probably dead, the City and County of Tulsa, the State of
Oklahoma, and the Tulsa Chamber are still responsible for
making it right.
The City and County caused this to happen to us--
The State allowed this happen to us--they didn't protect
us.
The Chamber helped ensure that we could not rebuild after
the Massacre, including holding us in internment camps.
They owe us something. They owe me something. I have lived
much of my life poor. My opportunities were taken from me.
And my community, North Tulsa--Black Tulsa--is still messed
up today. They didn't rebuild it. Its empty. It's a ghetto.
You can help us get some justice.
America is full of examples where people in positions of
power, many just like you, have told us to wait. Others have
told us it's too late. It seems like justice in America is
always so slow or not possible for Blacks. And we are made to
feel crazy just for asking for things to be made right. There
are always so many excuses for why justice is so slow or
never happens at all.
I am here today, at 106-years-old, looking at you all in
the eye. We've waited too long, and I am tired. We are tired.
I am asking you today to give us some peace. Please give me,
my family, and my community some justice.
Thank you.
Hughes Van Ellis Written Testimony for the House Subcommittee on the
Constitution, Civil Rights and Civil Liberties, May 19, 2021
My name is Hughes Van Ellis. I am 100 years old. And I am a
survivor of the Tulsa Race Massacre. Because of the Massacre,
my family was driven from our home. We were left with
nothing. We were made refugees in our own country.
My childhood was hard and we didn't have much. We worried
what little we had would be stolen from us. Just like it was
stolen in Tulsa. You may have been taught that when something
is stolen from you, you can go to the courts to be made
whole. You can go to the courts to get justice. This wasn't
the case for us. The courts in Oklahoma wouldn't hear us. The
federal courts said we were too late.
We were made to feel that our struggles were unworthy of
justice. That we were less valued than whites, that we
weren't fully American. We were shown that in the United
States, not all men were equal under law. We were shown that
when Black voices called out for justice, no one cared.
But we still had faith things would get better. We still
believed in the promise of America and in the cause of
freedom.
I did my duty in World War II. I served in combat in the
Far East with the 234th AAA Gun Battalion. We were an all-
black battalion. I fought for freedom abroad, even though it
was ripped away from me at home, even after my home and my
community were destroyed, I did it because I believed, in the
end, America would get it right.
When I returned home from the war, I didn't find any of the
freedom I was fighting for overseas. Unlike white servicemen,
I wasn't entitled to GI Bill benefits because of the color of
my skin. I came home to segregation. A separate and unequal
America. But still I believed in America,
This is why we are still speaking up today, even at the age
of 100. The Tulsa Race Massacre isn't a footnote in a history
book for us. We live with it every day and the thought of
what Greenwood was and what it could have been. We aren't
just black and white pictures on a screen, we are flesh and
blood. I was there when it happened, I'm still here. My
sister was there when it happened, she's still here.
We're not asking for a handout. All we are asking for is
for a chance to be treated like a first-class citizen who
truly is a beneficiary of the promise that this is a land
where there is ``liberty and justice for all.''
We are asking for justice for a lifetime of ongoing harm.
Harm that was caused by the Massacre. You can give us the
chance to be heard and give us a chance to be made whole
after all these years and after all our struggle.
I still believe in America. I still believe in the ideals
that I fought overseas to defend. And I believe if given the
chance you will do the right thing and justice will be
served. Thank you.
Written Testimony of Mother Viola Fletcher for the Subcommittee on the
Constitution, Civil Rights, and Civil Liberties, Wednesday, May 19,
2021
My name is Viola Fletcher, or Mother Fletcher. I am the
daughter of Lucinda Ellis and John Wesley Ford of Tulsa,
Oklahoma. I am the sister of Hughes Van Ellis, who is also
here today. And I am a survivor of the Tulsa Race Massacre.
Two weeks ago, I celebrated my 107th birthday.
Today, I am in Washington, D.C. for the first time in my
life. I am here seeking justice. I am here asking my country
to acknowledge what happened in Tulsa in 1921.
On May 31st 1921, I went to bed in my family's home in the
Greenwood neighborhood of Tulsa. The neighborhood I feel
asleep in that night was rich--not just in terms of wealth,
but in culture, community, and heritage. My family had a
beautiful home. We had great neighbors and I had friends to
play with. I felt safe. I had everything a child could need.
I had a bright future ahead of me. Greenwood could have given
me the chance to truly make it in this country.
Within a few hours, all of that was gone. The night of the
Massacre I was woken up by my family. My parents and five
siblings were there. I was told we had to leave. And that was
it.
I will never forget the violence of the white mob when we
left our house. I still see Black men being shot, and Black
bodies lying in the street. I still smell smoke and see fire.
I still see Black businesses being burned. I still hear
airplanes flying overhead. I hear the screams. I live through
the Massacre every day.
Our country may forget this history. I cannot. I will not.
The other survivors do not. And our descendants do not.
When my family was forced to leave Tulsa, I lost my chance
at an education. I never finished school past the fourth
grade. I have never made much money. My country, state, and
city took a lot from me. Despite this, I spent time
supporting the war effort in the shipyards of California. But
for most of my life, I was a domestic worker serving white
families. I never made much money. To this day, I can barely
afford my everyday needs. All the while the City of Tulsa
have unjustly used the names and stories of victims like me
to enrich itself and its White allies through the $30 million
raised by the Tulsa Centennial Commission while I continue to
live in poverty.
I am 107 years old and have never seen justice. I pray that
one day I will. I have been blessed with a long life--and
have seen the best and worst of this country. I think about
the horrors inflicted upon Black people in this country every
day.
This Subcommittee has the power to lead us down a better
path. I am asking that my country acknowledge what has
happened to me. The trauma. The pain. The loss. And I ask
that survivors and descendants be given a chance to seek
justice. Open the courtroom doors to us.
I believe we must acknowledge America's sins. It is the
least we can do.
I saw what happened here on January 6th this year. It broke
my heart. It reminded me of what happened 100 years ago. And
now, I hear some of you on TV saying it didn't happen, like
we didn't see it with our own eyes. It happened on live TV.
100 years ago, there was no TV, but you have me here right
now. You see Mother Randle. You see my brother, Hughes Van
Ellis. We lived this history. We can't ignore it. It lives
with us.
We lost everything that day. Our homes. Our churches. Our
newspapers. Our theaters. Our lives. Greenwood represented
the best of what was possible for Black people in America--
and for all people. No one cared about us for almost 100
years. We, and our history, have been forgotten, washed away.
This Congress must recognize us, and our history. For Black
Americans. For white Americans. For all Americans. That's
some justice.
Thank you.
