This is an opinion column.
I got a note recently. Unsigned. It came from someone tired of the Tubervillains – those who chase success by peddling ignorance and anger, who open their mouths to speak an ugliness that stains us all.
Add Alabama’s Democratic leadership to that lot. Personal power over progress is their motto.
But enough about them. Back to the note. The writer had been to the National Cathedral in D.C., where famous needlepoint “kneelers” honor Americans considered “worthy.” There are few Alabamians there. Jefferson Davis is, though he lived in Alabama only when it was a Confederate state in full rebellion. Booker T. Washington is. Though not an Alabama native – he was born an enslaved Virginian – he made a mark on the world from Tuskegee Institute.
The author begged me to write about those who make us proud: “It’s important to recognize the people who hurt our state … It is equally important to recognize those individuals who have made a positive impact.”
That note got to me. Because it’s true. And because of its perfect conclusion:
“I’m hot, I’m tired, I wish it would rain. I wish when I went to other states people wouldn’t sneer at the fact I’m from Alabama and be amazed that I’m educated, wear shoes, and think I live in a beautiful state with good people.”
How can I say no to that?
There is, of course, a long list of famous and talented Alabamians. If fame were the measure of greatness we could start with Tallulah Bankhead and end with Channing Tatum. There is Hank Williams – father or son. There’s Lionel Richie and Courtney Cox and Jimmy Buffett and Octavia Spencer and dozens more. But fame was not the question.
If athleticism is the measure of greatness the list is even longer. Hank Aaron and Willie Mays are Rushmore dwellers in their sport. Satchel Paige ought to be. Jesse Owens, Bo Jackson and Joe Louis are flat out legends. Mia Hamm, too. Charles Barkley transcends sports.
We know how to cook down here – Frank Stitt and Chis Lilly and thousands more. We can write – give it up for Harper Lee of Monroeville, or Zora Neale Hurston of Notasulga, two of the most revered writers of the 20th Century. We have musical greats from W.C. Handy to Jason Isbell, and science from George Washington Carver to E.O. Wilson. Alabama is even represented well in big business and tech – Tim Cook runs Apple and Jimmy Wales co-founded Wikipedia. And as far as activism goes, we can claim a little bit of Martin Luther King Jr.’s time, and of course Rosa Parks and John Lewis. Talk about a Rushmore, and that’s just a start.
There are, frankly, so many people to be proud of in this state – or from it, anyway – that it almost hurts. Talent, clearly, is not our problem. The problem is that almost all of those people left Alabama to get famous, or to get away. Unsung hero Charles Morgan left after being threatened. Fred Shuttlesworth was beaten and bombed. He may not be unsung, but we could all sing that name a little louder.
If I were making my own Mount Rushmore – those who make a difference to me in an increasingly unreasonable world, I would carve a spot for Wayne Flynt, historian, truth teller, writer, Baptist preacher, Auburn man. In a state that too often tries to hide the sins of its past or their impact on the present, he is ever illuminating. He is kind, rational, direct, decent. And one who stayed.
That description works for Roy Wood Jr., too. Kind, rational, decent. And funny, too. He may be a comedian, but he is serious about those traits. And while I don’t know where he lives these days, he has never stopped being a part of Alabama.
I’d include EJI’s Bryan Stevenson because I am amazed by him. He’s not a native Alabamian but he came here years ago to stand for justice for people who had no one else. He opened so many eyes and ears, and hearts. It is a rare person who can do great things and explain them in words that are easy and beautiful. When they do, statues are often built.
I’d include Kathryn Tucker Windham, the author who helped teach me the joy of words. She stayed forever in this state, writing ghost stories, telling quirky tales and practicing kindness. I’d include Nina Reeves, who told stories to generations of young people across Alabama, and taught them strength and love and the value of a good punch line. Those two stayed, too.
That reader was right. Alabama has for too long let greedy, angry people represent us, divide us and taint our name. It’s time to show the world we do wear footwear, we do have some talent, and some of us still know a thing or two about kindness. It’s out there. I promise you it is.
