>> From the Library of
Congress in Washington, D.C.
>> Good morning.
I'm Karen Jaffe.
I'm head of the Young Readers
Center, which is the cosponsor along
with the Center for the Book of this
Books and Beyond for Young People.
And our director of the Center for
the Book John Cole's in the back.
You can raise your hand.
Thank you, John.
I'd like to first welcome
our very special guests.
I'd like students from
Capitol Day School
to raise your hand, so
we know who you are.
Thank you.
Rivers Charter School,
raise your hand.
Great. Okay, we actually
have one more school
that will be coming shortly,
but we're going to start.
And if Monica Valentine is here, if
she could just help coordinate them
around the sides, that
would be great.
I was fortunate enough this weekend
to see the motion picture Selma,
and some of you may
have heard about it.
It's a movie based on historical
events, but what you're going
to hear and see today is something
much more valuable and special
because you're going to meet
one of the actual marchers
from Selma to Montgomery.
The youngest one, in fact, and
you're going to hear her true story
and see original footage
from the incidents
and even some primary
sources from the time.
Her book is called "Turning
15 on the Road to Freedom."
Lynda Blackmon Lowery was the
first young person to take part
in the Voting Rights March of 1965.
She now works as a case manager
at a mental health center,
and she still lives in Selma.
We're honored to have her today,
and she has told her story
to two writers, Elspeth Leacock and
Susan Buckley, who have corroborated
on five history books for children.
Among her favorite projects,
Elspeth has also written the
"Geography Brain Quest" and "The
African Experience in New York."
And when not writing
children's books,
for 17 years Susan edited
Appleseed's children's magazine.
Both Elspeth and Susan
live in New York City.
So, here are the logistics today.
All the authors will be
speaking about 30 or 40 minutes,
and then, there will be a Q&A.
Our main focus is on the students,
so we will hear from them first
with their questions,
and if there's time,
we will certainly take questions
from the adults in the room as well.
Students, when it's
time to ask questions,
we will be giving you a microphone.
Please wait for it.
We hope you give your
name and your school.
This program is being videotaped, so
it helps to have everyone's question
to the microphone, so
it could be recorded.
I think that's all for now,
and I'm going to turn
it over to our authors.
[Applause]
>> Good morning and
thank you all for coming.
About ten years ago, Elspeth and
I wrote a book called "Journeys
for Freedom," in which we told
20 stories of American history.
And one of the events
we knew we wanted
to include was the 1965
Selma Voting Rights March.
So, we started by phoning the small
voting rights museum in Selma,
and a very nice woman
answered the phone.
And we explained to her that
we wanted to talk to someone
who had been on the march --
who'd actually be on the march
and preferably would be a kid --
somebody who was a young
person on the march.
And so, she said, "Well,
the person you need
to talk to is my sister Lynda."
So the next thing we know, we call
Lynda, and as soon as we began
to hear Lynda's story, Elspeth
and I knew we had found a remarkable
person who was a witness to history,
who was a history-maker herself.
So, we talked to Lynda a lot
over the next month or so,
and we created a story
[inaudible] 750 words
and showed a beautiful
picture of map and whatever.
And that was called -- that was
the "Journeys for Freedom" story,
and then when Elspeth and I
began to present the book,
we created a presentation
called History - It Can't Happen
Without You because we
wanted to show kids like you
that there are times
in American history
where it would not have
happened without kids.
And the Civil Rights Movement
is one of those times,
and most people don't
realize that today.
So, we centered the story on Lynda,
and then, we all met in Chicago,
and we -- when we were
making a presentation.
And we realized that Lynda was
inspiring us and the kids so much
by her story and the longer story,
that we would actually
write a book just about --
together, the three of
us, about Lynda's story.
So, we have 35 hours of
taped interviews with Lynda.
Most of it -- a lot of it on the
phone but some of it in person,
and Lynda's voice is so strong
that Elspeth and I were able
to create this book with Lynda
and channeling her voice.
>> Good morning.
Let me read you some of my story.
By the time I was 15 years old,
I had been in jail nine times.
I was born in Selma,
Alabama, in 1950.
In those days, you were born black
or you were born white in Selma.
There was a big difference.
Where I lived, everyone was black.
I lived in the George Washington
Carver homes, the good old GWC.
My buddies and I felt safe
because everyone watched
out for everyone else.
We went to black churches.
We attend black schools, and
we had caring black teachers.
The Ku Klux Klan stayed
away from us.
They drove through other black
neighborhoods, hiding their faces
with sheets over their heads,
and yelling racial slurs,
blowing their horns, and
cursing and shooting their guns.
But they rode through areas where
they knew they could scare people.
They would never -- would not
ride through the GWC homes,
so I felt safe and secure.
>> When Lynda was seven
years old, her mother died.
>> When my mother died,
I heard people say,
"If she hadn't been colored,
she would still be alive."
But the hospital was
for whites only.
My mother died as a
result of her skin color.
I just believed that.
So, segregation hurt my
family, and it hurt me.
After my mother's funeral,
my grandmother moved in,
and she was one determined woman.
She was going to raise us up to
be strong and determined too.
I remember her saying as she
brushed my hair once that,
"There is nothing more precious
walking on this earth than you.
You are a child of God.
So, hold your head up
and believe in yourself."
It was my grandmother who
first took me to see Dr. King.
That's Dr. Martin Luther
King, Jr. That was back
in 1963 when I was 13 years old.
The church was packed.
When Dr. King began to speak,
everyone got real quiet.
The way he sound made you want
to do what he was talking about,
and he was talking about voting.
The right to vote and what it would
take by our parents to get it.
He was talking about nonviolence
and how you could persuade people
to do things your way with
steady, loving confrontation.
I'll never forget those words.
Steady, loving confrontation.
And the way he said
it, we children --
we really didn't understand
what he was talking about,
but we wanted to do
what he was saying.
"Who is with me?"
Dr. King asked, and we
all stood up clapping.
By the time we left the meeting that
night, Dr. King had a commitment
from me and everyone else in church
to do whatever it would
take nonviolently
to get the right to vote.
>> At that time, Lynda was already
in the Civil Rights Movement.
High school students were trying
to integrate Selma by going
to whites-only places like the
Dairy Queen and lunch counters.
Lynda couldn't take part in these
sit-ins because she was too young,
but her job was to go for help.
So, they called her the
Gofer because she would go
for someone's mama when the
older kids were put in jail.
>> That all changed
on January 2nd, 1965.
That's when Dr. King came to Selma
for a big mass meeting
at Brown Chapel.
There were about 700 people
there, and I was one of them.
When Dr. King walked in,
everyone stood and cheered.
He talked about the vote
and how we would get it.
He told us we must
be ready to march.
His voice grew louder as he
continued, "We must be ready to go
to jail by the thousands."
By the end, he shouted out,
"Our cry is a simple one.
Give us the ballot."
>> For years, black people
tried to register to vote,
but they were mostly turned away.
Just for trying to register,
they could lose their jobs.
Whenever a black person
tried to register,
someone would take a picture and
then show it to that person's boss.
White people could fire black people
whenever and however they wanted.
>> That's why the Civil Rights
leaders needed us children to march.
After Dr. King's speech, our
local leaders planned two
or three marches for us every day.
They would say, "We're going to
march to the courthouse tomorrow.
If you're with us, come
to Brown Chapel at 9:30."
The very first time I heard that,
I said, "I'm going to march."
>> Before the marchers set
out, the adults told them,
"You're going to go to jail.
Do not fight back.
You might be hit.
You might be pushed.
Just turn the other cheek.
Do not fight back.
Don't worry about it.
We'll take care of you."
>> The first time I went to
jail, I was 14, and I was scared.
I didn't know what they
were going to do to us.
There must've been about 100
boys and girls at the time.
All of us girls were packed into
one cell meant for two people.
After the first time, I
wasn't afraid because I was
with my buddies, and we knew
we had each other's back.
What we could do with each
other's back, now I don't know.
Those white policemen
had billy clubs and guns,
but we held onto each other.
And we figured there
was safety in numbers.
It helped when we sang
We Shall Overcome.
We sang it to let everyone
know we were on our way.
We would not be ignored, and we
definitely would not be stopped.
>> Lynda and her classmates
had to leave school to march,
but their teachers, who
couldn't vote, supported them.
They unlocked the backdoors
of the school to let groups
of students out to march.
>> For weeks, we marched, and we
went to jail over and over again.
Then, the police shot Jimmie
Lee Jackson in a nearby town.
I didn't know Jimmie Lee,
but when I heard the news,
I was scared for him
and for all of us.
Jimmie Lee had been
peacefully marching
in Marion, about 30 miles away.
The marchers were singing freedom
songs when the state troopers
and police attacked them.
As Jimmie Lee tried
to protect his mother,
a state trooper shot
him in the stomach.
While Jimmie Lee Jackson was
in the hospital, it just seemed
that everything got more dangerous.
Even jail got more dangerous.
>> That's when Lynda and her friends
were put in the infamous sweatbox.
>> Now, the sweatbox
didn't have any windows.
It was an iron room
with an iron door.
They pushed us right in,
closed the door, and locked it.
I don't know how long
we were in there.
I -- it could've been five minutes.
It could've been five hours.
All I know is every one of
us passed out from the heat.
There was no air, no bed,
no toilets, no sinks.
There was nothing but
heat in that iron box.
It was dark too.
There wasn't any lights, and
we couldn't see anything.
And we didn't know anything.
When we came to, some
prisoners was carrying us
out of the sweatbox
into a courtroom.
By the time I got out of jail that
day, Jimmie Lee Jackson had died.
I went straight to the
funeral with my daddy.
>> After Jimmie Lee
-- oh, that's you.
I'm sorry.
>> After Jimmie Lee Jackson's
death, there was a call
for a great march to
protest his murder.
It would be a whole
new kind of march.
A big march with everybody,
adults along with the kids.
On Sunday, March 7th, a crowd of
marchers set up from Brown Chapel.
>> When we got to the top of
the Edmund Pettus Bridge going
out of town, all I could see
was a sea of white people.
That's when I got nervous.
The road was full of white
men on foot and on horseback.
They were state troopers
and sheriff's deputies.
Along the road were white
people sitting on their cars,
waving confederate flags.
All of a sudden, a cloud of teargas
was burning my lungs and my eyes.
I couldn't breathe,
and I couldn't see.
It was terrifying.
I didn't realize it
then, but it was teargas.
The next thing I knew, I
felt a man's hand grab me
from behind, pulling me backwards.
I heard him say those hateful words.
Then, I bit the hand that
was on the front of me,
and that's when he
hit me over the eye.
He hit me twice hard.
I was kneeling, struggling
to get up,
but he pushed me forward
and hit me again.
This time on the back of my head.
I staggered up, and I ran.
I ran right into the teargas,
but this big white man kept
on running after me and hitting me.
And people were screaming
and hollering and yelling,
and my heart was pounding so fast
I thought that it would burst.
I didn't know what I was doing.
I just ran.
>> We're going to play
some original film footage
from a documentary film called King.
You will see what happened that day.
You'll see the police advancing
on peaceful protestors
just as Lynda described.
In fact, you'll see Lynda
in a moment in there.
You'll see these protestors being
hurt through police beatings
with teargas and through
crowd movement.
These two and a half
minutes are hard to watch.
[ Background Sounds ]
>> That's me.
[ Background Sounds ]
>> As she ran, Lynda
saw her little sister,
Joanne -- you have to take over.
>> She looked -- we've read
this so many times, but it's --
she looked like she was dead
lying in the man's arms,
but the man told Lynda
she had only fainted.
Lynda grabbed Joanne's hand, and
they ran until they reached safety
in the First Baptist Church.
Lots of people there had been hurt.
When one man saw Lynda, he said,
"This child is bleeding bad.
She's got to go the hospital."
At the hospital, she received
seven stitches over her eye
and 28 in the back of head.
While she was getting stitched up,
people across the country were
watching a special news report
on TV.
They saw what happened
in Selma that day.
The day reporters called
Bloody Sunday.
>> When I woke up the next day,
I heard that Dr. King
was planning a march
to Montgomery, the state capital.
More than 50 miles away.
Dr. King wanted to show
Governor Wallace and the world
that black people still
demanded the right to vote.
That beatings and violence
would not stop us.
But I wanted to go and show George
Wallace what he had done to me.
I wanted him to see my swollen
face and my bandaged head.
I wanted to let him know
that he wasn't going
to do that to me ever again.
When I told Daddy I
wanted to go, he said, "No.
It would be way too dangerous,"
but I pleaded and I begged.
He'd have to tie me up
and lock me in the house
to keep me from going, I told him.
>> In the end, Lynda was so
determined her father agreed
to let her go on the march when two
women promised to look after her.
>> On March 21st, day one
of the march, I was proud.
We had finally won something.
We won the right to march down
the highway and be protected.
The day was cloudy and misty,
but the crowd at Brown
Chapel was so full of joy.
>> This is a news reel
that appeared on television
and in movie theaters at that time.
>> On day --
[ Background Sounds ]
>> On day two, the march started
an hour late all because of Lynda.
>> The next morning, I woke up on
the ground wrapped in a blanket.
My head on the little canvas
bag that held my stuff.
All around me, women were waking up.
Maybe about 150 of them
lying in long rows.
It was March 22nd, 1965.
My 15th birthday.
When I left the tent, I walked
out into a foggy, dreary morning.
In front of me, I saw
three National Guardsmen.
I started screaming.
I -- and just couldn't stop.
I was scared that they were going
to kill me, to finish the job
that they had started
two weeks earlier.
I was terrified.
All I wanted to do was go home.
I didn't care if George
Wallace saw me or not.
I didn't care if anybody ever voted.
I just wanted to get back to my
daddy, so he could protect me.
Running back into the tent, I
yelled, "They're going to kill me.
Don't let them kill me," and a lot
of people wanted to send me home.
They were mad because I was holding
up the whole march, but the ladies
that I was with said
I was too scared
to go back home in that condition.
They tried to comfort
me, to ease my fear.
They talked about the
significance of what we were doing
and how far we had
come in the struggle,
but I could not be comforted.
To me, it was Bloody
Sunday all over again.
I was that scared, but this white
guy named Jim Lethere came over.
He had lost a leg in
a war, and that --
he was walking all the way
to Montgomery on crutches.
Jim told me before he let
anyone harm another hair
on my head he would lay
down and die for me.
I knew I couldn't let
this man do that for me.
I know -- I just knew I
couldn't let him do more for me
than I could do for myself.
So that moment, I knew if
this man was willing to die
for me then I really had to give
up the fear of dying for myself.
I knew I had to do
this, and I could do it.
When the march finally began
that morning, Jim and I marched
and talked and sang freedom
songs together down the highway.
>> Lynda takes us with
her on the four-day march.
They were days filled
with friendship,
hardship, and a lot of rain.
>> On the fourth day of the march,
thousands of people joined us
as we got to the outskirts
of Montgomery.
It felt awesome.
I had done it.
I had really done it.
I was there, and deep inside of me,
all that fear that something might
happen to me and the pain and anger
that had driven me was released.
I fell down on the ground, and I
just cried and cried and cried.
I just couldn't stop crying
until I let it all out,
and then, it was gone.
I was free.
The next morning, March 25th, I knew
I was going to see George Wallace,
and he was going to see me.
Everything was different that day.
There was even more people
now, more than 25,000.
My buddies was there.
Kids I went to jail
with so many times.
My daddy was there too,
and we were all singing
and happy, marching to the Capitol.
When I got to the Capitol, I looked
for Governor Wallace in the windows.
They said he was behind the curtains
peeping out, but I couldn't tell.
I got as close as I
could, and I shouted,
"I'm here, Governor Wallace.
I'm here."
So, everybody in the
governor's office surely got
to see my bandages.
Somebody did, I know.
There were a lot of speakers
which made the day a long day.
Then, it was over.
What began on Bloody
Sunday was done at last.
I went home to Selma
and back to school,
but I was a different person.
We still had mass meetings, but we
didn't march or go to jail anymore.
I had learned so much.
I just had to think
about it all for a while,
and while I was thinking,
something happened.
On August 6th, 1965, the United
States Congress passed the Voting
Rights Act.
We had won.
My buddies and I, who had gone
to jail so many times, had won.
Everyone on that march
to Montgomery won.
We were determined to do
something, and we did it.
If you are determined, you
can overcome your fears.
And then, you can change the world.
The Selma Movement was
a children's movement.
We didn't know it at the time,
but we were making history.
You have a voice too,
and with determination,
you can be a history-maker
just like me.
[Applause]
>> Thank you.
[Applause]
>> Very exciting.
Okay now, the students have a
chance to ask some questions.
I want to remind you to give
your name and your school,
and we'll try to get a mic to you.
And pass it around to the
person whose being called on,
and I'll point you out so that we
can have some kind of logic to this.
Okay, you want to start
with some questions?
Anybody? Okay, right over there.
>> My name is Tyrin
[assumed spelling].
I go to Rivers Public
School, and I'm 13.
My question is racism and
segregation was hard back then
as we can see, but in the 21st
century now with Michael Brown
and Eric Garner cases and
situations, how do you feel
about racism currently now?
>> I'm going to give you a
little quote of something
that I read recently, and then,
I want you to think about it.
I was reading a book in my
library called "Racism,"
and it was written in 1972.
And on that book is a blurb that
says something to the effect of,
"Doctors say hatred
and racism hurts.
It causes things like high
blood pressure and diabetes
and other physical illnesses."
It also says, "Just imagine
how the person that's receiving
that racism and hatred might feel."
And this blurb was on
the posters and buses --
on buses and in the subway
in New York City in 1972.
And it was on there because the New
York City Commission Human Rights
had it there.
That's how I feel about racism,
hatred, and what is going on today.
It's something that hurts, and
if hurts you to feel that way
about another person, just imagine
how the person you hate or show
that racism to must feel.
>> Well, that's an amazing
statement for this whole program.
Thank you, Lynda.
Do we have any other questions?
Okay. Right here in the front.
[ Background Sounds ]
>> My name is Cece
[assumed spelling].
I'm 14, and I'm from
Capitol Hill Day School.
And my question is do you ever
wonder what would've happened
if you had gone home that one day?
>> I -- yes.
I think if I had gone home that day
I never would've be the person I
am now.
I think I would've been
filled with a lot of hatred,
and I would be one
racist person now.
One hateful, ugly,
racist person now.
I just feel that I
would've because at
that time fear would've taken
over, and the hatred would --
you know, would be very present.
And we tend to hate
things or dislike things
that we don't understand a lot of
times, and that fear was something
that I didn't understand
within me at that time.
>> We'll go back to
-- yes, right there.
[ Background Sounds ]
>> My name is Autumn.
I'm 13 years old, and I go
to Capitol Hill Day School.
Have you done any recent
sit-ins or marches or protests?
>> No, not recently.
In the past -- now, I just --
in the past year, illness has
visited me and my household a lot.
I've been in the hospital this
past year like three times.
I just got out of the hospital on
New Year's Day for the third time,
you know, this past year.
So, I haven't had an
opportunity to do anything.
However, I am on Facebook, and
I certainly encourage every day
that somebody take up the mantle and
let their voice be known, be heard.
>> Okay, right behind.
Yeah.
[ Background Sounds ]
>> My name is Charlie
Gray [assumed spelling].
I go to Capitol Hill
Day School, and I'm 13.
When you walked to Montgomery,
about how many people
of the marchers were white?
>> Oh, there was a good percentage,
and I would say about 20%
of those marchers were
white that walked --
that was in the original
300 that walked.
But daily on that walk,
someone was joining us --
other marchers would
join us if just for,
you know, so many miles that day.
They would join us and then leave.
I never counted the number of
people, but I would say about 20%
of the entire 300 were white.
>> And I think your
description of what meant to you
when so many white people came
to Selma is really interesting
for the kids to hear.
>> As I told you in the --
in reading my story that I grew up
during a time -- during segregation.
And my father was this big, strong
black man, and it would be --
it would just be awesome to see
him change when we went in stores
that were owned by white people.
He would get so humbled, and
he would hold his head down.
And he would have his
hat in his hand,
and he'd just play with that hat.
And they would call my big,
strong, handsome black father "boy"
and other derogatory names.
And it was awesome to
see that change in him
because no matter how he tried
to explain it I just
couldn't understand it.
Why he had to hold his head down
and why he couldn't
look in someone's face.
When if I had grown up knowing
just that segregated system
of white people, again, I would
be a very hate-ridden person.
But when people saw us marching,
saw us beaten, and people --
other white people came to
Selma, I saw a whole new person.
These people called
my daddy "mister."
They gave him the respect that
every other black person gave him.
They stayed with us.
They ate the collard greens and
fried chicken and cornbread with us.
I mean, they were a
different group of people,
and I'm so glad I saw and met them.
That they cared enough
to come to Selma.
That they cared enough because they
showed me the love of everybody
and not just my black friends
and the black people I grew up.
They showed me the
love of everybody.
[ Background Sounds ]
>> Any other questions
from the students?
Do we have any questions
from the adults?
In the [inaudible].
Is there one back there?
>> Yes, I'm a retired
schoolteacher, and I just want
to know do you remember the names
of the two ladies that you --
that helped you, that were with you.
>> That was --
>> The two ladies.
>> That was Mrs. Amelia Boynton and
Mrs. Mary Lamar [assumed spelling].
My father agreed to let me
march when Mrs. Boynton,
who was a strong female
black leader,
adult leader, in the movement.
Mrs. Mary Lamar, who
was one of our neighbors
and also a member of the movement.
And Mrs. Marie Foster,
whom we called Mom Foster,
who was another strong black
female of the movement.
When they said that they needed
help and they would take care of me,
make sure nothing happened
to me, and he loved
and respected these women.
So, he let his child go, knowing
that I would be taken care of.
>> Thank you.
>> Okay, we'll take one more,
and then, we have to move on.
Yes.
>> I was just going to ask, how much
time elapsed in between the time
of the marching and actually
the bill getting passed?
Do you know about how long it was?
>> I didn't --
>> How long was it before the bill
was passed from the march in Selma
to the time the government
actually agreed and passed the bill?
>> From March of 1965
to August 6th of 1965.
The Voting Rights Act was passed
in Congress right before they
segregated the all-white high school
in Selma.
School began in Selma in September
of each year, and my sister was one
of the eight young black people
that segregated the
all-white high school --
>> Integrated.
>> I mean that integrated the
all-white segregated high school,
and that was Parish High School.
>> Okay, the last question.
Yes.
>> I've heard you speak once
before, and I thought it was
so interesting you talking
about seeing Malcolm X,
and I thought maybe you could
share that with the students today.
>> Dr. King had been arrested
and was in the Selma jail
for a week -- almost a week.
I know it was a long time, and
Malcolm X came to Selma and spoke.
Malcolm X -- now Dr. King
always talked about steady,
loving confrontation
and nonviolence.
That night, Malcolm X spoke
at Brown Chapel Church.
I was right behind him in the
choir stand because I was a member
of the Freedom Choir, and
Malcolm X came and said, "Okay,
we're going to pick up
our guns, our weapons,
and go and get the right to vote."
After Malcolm spoke that
night, within one hour,
they let Dr. King out of jail.
They figured -- and when I say
they, I mean the white policemen.
They figured that they'd rather
have a nonviolent movement
than to have a movement where
they had this black man talking
about shooting and killing
and getting the right to vote.
So, Dr. King came on out of jail.
>> Okay, I have a few announcements,
and I'm going to ask Carroll
Johnson -- is Carroll here?
To come up, a senior director in
the Exhibits Division of the Library
to make an announcement,
but I just want
to call a few things
to your attention.
The Young Readers Center has
created Children's Bibliography
on Civil Rights, and they're green.
And they're on that table,
and we hope the students
will take them home.
The Exhibit Division has also
provided you with a poster
of the exhibit, and also, Susan and
Elspeth had been showing you some
of the artifacts that they brought.
And the library has a few pieces
from the Library Manuscripts
and Prints Division,
which is on that table.
So, feel free to look at
that if you have time.
And most significantly,
we're following the program
with a book signing which will
take place in a few minutes.
They're just setting up.
So if Carroll is not here --
>> Here I am.
>> Oh, okay.
Come on. It's hard with the light.
[ Background Sounds ]
>> Good morning, I'm
Carroll Johnson-Welsh,
and I'm one of the exhibit directors
for the Civil Rights Act of 1964:
A Long Struggle for Freedom.
The exhibition is divided
into six section.
Prologue, Segregation which is
on a special screen, World War II
and Post-War Years, the Civil
Rights Era, and the Civil Rights Act
of 1964, and finally, the Impact.
There are two films,
ten AV stations,
and historical timelines throughout.
The exhibition addresses
petitions made against slavery,
the denial of civil rights, and a
long struggle for freedom endured
by individuals, grass-root
organizations,
and through the three
branches of government.
The Civil Rights Act of 1964 secured
equal rights for African Americans
to restaurants, transportation,
and other public facilities.
It also gave them access to
better education and jobs.
The Civil Rights Era section
in our exhibit highlights many
of the milestone events leading up
to the Selma to Montgomery March,
which was so poignantly
described in the book today,
"Turning 15 on the Road to Freedom."
The AV screens in the Civil Rights
Era section shows first-hand
accounts of individuals
recounting their experience
as youths during the Civil
Rights Movement along
with historical images of students
participating in the sit-ins.
We also have primary documents
of the Little Rock Nine Students
who integrated Little
Rock High School
in Little Rock, Arkansas, in 1957.
We have Early Youth
Marches in 1958 and 1959
and the Freedom Bus Rides in 1961.
This coming March, the library will
be adding new items to the exhibit,
including a document from
the new Rosa Parks collection
that feature instructions given
to boycott participants in 1956
by Mrs. Parks and a
transcript from the papers
of Civil Rights activist James
Forman that describes what happened
on March 7th, 1965, Bloody Sunday.
So, I encourage you and
your families to go upstairs
and view the exhibition
or come back later.
The exhibit is open to the
public Monday through Saturday
from 8:30 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.
until September 12th, 2015.
There is also an online
version of the exhibition
at loc.gov/exhibits/civilrightsact,
which features the films and some
of the audiovisual
clips in the exhibition.
And we also have exhibit posters
for you in the back for takeaways.
Thank you.
>> Thank you.
[ Applause ]
>> This has been a presentation
of the Library of Congress.
Visit us at loc.gov.