I've been working on a revision of First You Hear Thunder. The biggest changes have come to the section when Wally and Gene join up with SCOPE and leave from Chicago on a bus to Florida. Here's an excerpt that illustrates some of the changes.

The second week in June, Gene and I traveled by bus to Chicago where we transferred to a bus chartered by Dick Gregory to take us south. For Gene and me south turned out to be Gratiot County, Florida. We both were disappointed. All the action and press were coming from Mississippi, Alabama, and Georgia. What was going on in Florida? Florida was a resort area where old people retired and baseball teams practiced in the winter.

Dealing with or disappointment about being sent to Florida would have to wait a few days because our first stop was Atlanta, Georgia. Before we were dropped off in Adams City to do our work, we were taken to a conference in Atlanta for a kick-off celebration for SCOPE. We would also attend a variety of training classes in preparation for what lay ahead. The conference started on June 14 and Dr. King spoke to the convention of about 650 college students, 150 workers, and some 400 local volunteers the next day. King told us that he was happy because “this generation of students is found where history is being made.”

That is exactly how Gene and I felt. We felt like we were making history.

Magnetic personalities come along every now and then. Dr. King was one. We saw and heard him speak in a crowd of over 1,200 people, and it seemed like his was the only face seen clearly and his voice the only one heard above all the others. People flocked to be at his side, or at least as close as possible, just for inspiration. It was clear why he was chosen to be the face of the movement. His rise to much more widespread fame came quickly after the onset of the Montgomery bus boycott. It was his aura that shone brighter than all others that propelled him onto the largest stage. President John F. Kennedy was another example. He was able to win the hearts of voters and be elected president of the country after only a short stint of public service. These men had their human flaws forgiven and focus was kept on their heroism. Right or wrong, these charismatic people become our leaders.

For the next three days we were taught about what we would be facing, how to react, and tips about teaching civics to interested citizens in our area.

The list of instructors and lecturers at the conference sounds like a Who’s Who roster of today’s historic civil rights figures. Vernon Jordan spoke and John Lewis led one of the study groups. Rev. Ralph Abernathy was present as was Rev. Andrew Young.  Abernathy was Dr. King’s right hand man until the day King was murdered. Young and Lewis went on to become members of the U. S. House of Representatives. As I write, Lewis remains a member today. Young added Mayor of Atlanta and President Jimmy Carter’s Ambassador to the United Nations to his impressive resume. Jordan practiced law and was a driving force in civil rights legislation. He was part of President Bill Clinton’s inner circle of advisors.

These impressive men instructed us about the dangers, frustrations, and irrational behavior we were about to face. But, their strongest words were reserved to make clear were to be completely nonviolent. If confronted we should let ourselves be arrested and never fight back. Any unsavory act would stain this righteous endeavor.

I had been on athletic teams and had heard tons of locker room pep talks, but the motivation these men instilled in us was a rush of adrenalin like I had never felt before. We bolted out the doors when the conference ended and leapt onto the chartered bus. Our mission was to make the movement proud of us.

We talked and planned all along the six hour, bumpy, dusty bus drive to northern Florida. We talked and planned, but had no concrete idea about the realities we would soon be facing.

Gratiot County, with its county seat, Adams City, is on the northern tier of counties just south of the Alabama and Georgia boarders. It is located to the west of Tallahassee and in 1965; it was light years away from being anything resembling twentieth-century mentality. There were no major league baseball teams and no retirees playing shuffleboard, just a few thousand white and black people living in conditions that were ever so diverse.