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Southfield, MI 48075 16 FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 1988 JEWISH 114110111AL (KEREN KAYEMETH LEISRAEL) INC. 1...• ■••■■• Mississippi Continued from Page 7 you are in an automobile and I'm a policeman who has just stopped you." "Let me see your licence," Grady, in the role of the policeman, said. "Say `sir' when you speak to me, nigger. We don't like nig- ger ministers down here." We were soon to learn that the enactment of what we might encounter exactly replicated incidents that were to befall us in the next few days. We left Memphis the next morning for Hattiesburg, stopping when necessary within black communities where we were hospitably received and relatively safe. We arrived in Hattiesburg and bedded down in a makeshift dormitory on Mobile Street in the heart of the black ghetto area. We felt safe there, although during the first night we were awakened by shouts and gun- fire — a group of night-riders careening past in their cars and taking a few pot-shots — intended most likely to frighten us and warn us off. We were soon introduced to our "team" — the young COFO workers and the adult teachers who formed the Hat- tiesburg contingent of the voter registration project. It is significant that fully 25 per- cent of the workers in Hat- tiesburg were Jewish. Most of them I found came from non- religious or peripherally Jewish homes. But their presence in disproportionate numbers testified, I am con- vinced, that Jewish values are transmitted from genera- tion to generation, even where there are lapses of observance or synagogue par- ticipation. Somehow, the in- junction, "the stranger you shall not oppress, for you know the very being of the stranger, seeing that you were strangers in the land of Egypt," manages to effect the carry-over of the values it represents, even beyond the retention of the words. We did canvassing for three mornings. We patiently rehearsed the answers to questions and the most effec- tive way to respond to the pressures of the examination. Everywhere in the black com- munity we were received with kindliness, understanding and appreciation. Many of those we visited had been turned away again and again but intended to continue to seek the right to vote. The third day we had a good morning of canvassing. One young woman in our assign- ed neighborhood had registered successfully — a token to the whites, a mean- ingful symbol to the blacks. My canvassing partner was David Owen, a college- student volunteer. We had been working since 8:30 a.m. and so at about 11:45, feeling the pangs of hunger, we call- ed it a morning and started back to the Morning Star Baptist Church where the workers were accustomed to convene for lunch and where each day the ladies of the con- gregation put out a wonderful pot-lunch lunch: home-baked breads and cakes, collard greens and black-eyed peas and heaps of fried chicken. A moment later we saw Larry Spear, another college student and two black girls. They, too, were returning from canvassing and heading for lunch at the church. We waved to them, then met them at the single-track railroad line that served the remember shouting after seeing David bleeding from the back of his head, "My God, haven't you done enough already?" ' < ° stock-yard. Foolishly, in full view of the "red-neck" loungers, we stood there com- paring notes about our mor- ning experiences. Then the boys proposed that we take a short cut and walk down the track to the church. We had not gone much more than 20 yards when we heard a chorus of raucous children's voices. "Look at the white niggers," they shouted. This was disconcerting, but ( 111- ' after all, they were only children. So we paid no heed and walked on. Suddenly we heard the screech of brakes and a white pick-up truck came to a stop on the dirt road next to the track. Two men armed, with tire irons and shouting c'H obscenities came charging up the embankment. "We'll get you, you nigger lovers!" was their repeated "war cry." My initial impulse was to talk to them. More as a result of naivete than of irony, I wanted to enter into "dialogue?' Then, too, I had long been convinced that all human be- ings are kedoshim — that the "image of God" to which we are in duty bound to respond C-, with reverence is present in Gr every one of us and hence dialogue should be possible. Since Mississippi, 1964, cJ