In the early 1960's, I received a call at my home from a complete stranger. The caller immediately began stating the purpose of her call. She explained in detail that her home has been receiving “strange” phone calls from “agitators” speaking harshly of Dr. Martin Luther King's recent activities in Selma and just what was her connection to “his actions” in Selma.
As she went on, I found that I could not get a word in edge wise. The woman was obviously concerned over the calls and wanted some explanations as to why her home was being targeted. I remember one of her statements to me during the call was “I am a white woman with roots in Selma-what could they possibly want with me?
After several minutes of listening to her frustrations, both of us begin to slowly figure out what strange events had brought us together. My husbands name was Dr. Sullivan Jackson. Her name was Jean Sullivan. My first name is Jean Jackson-get the connection. People were confusing the names-Sullivan, Jean and were calling the home of Ira Sullivan in an attempt to rouse anger about Dr. King's presence in Selma. People only knew that Dr. King often resided in the home of Sullivan and Jean Jackson when he was in Selma so the Sullivan home often got the hateful calls in the middle of the night.
During our first conversation, Jean Sullivan and I discussed the world's problems at that time which to us seemed to be happening right here in Selma-to us! We talked into the night, exploring each other's backgrounds, children and other such important information. Jean has so many questions about the race problems Selma and the country was experiencing at that time. We finally concluded that night that no real solutions could we give but a friendship was born. But we both realized that although we had never met, we both wanted the same thing for our families and community-the best this country could offer all of its citizens.
That friendship lasted over the next forty years. During those years, the Civil Rights Movements became history and America began a new chapter in race relations because of the events here in Selma. Also during those years, we watched our children grow; served together on various civic committees and often talked of the future. In more recent years, both of us experienced the devastating loss of our husbands, both of whom had been apart of this community. As each event occurred over the years, I could always count on a phone call from Jean Sullivan and I would always take my shoes off and sink into my chair for what I know would be a long and interesting conversation. Even though we would occasionally see each other in person, nothing could take the place of those phone conversations.
Upon learning of Jean Sullivan's death, I lost a dear friend and Selma lost a citizen that was devoted to making her community a better place for all to live. I will miss her phone calls and how much we enjoyed hearing each others voice over the years. I think it gave both of us strength to carry on all those years knowing we could talk to one another.
I believe the ties that bind us are often threads hidden in a tapestry-and if we are lucky those threads can never be broken.
