The first time I heard the term “Black Wall Street” I thought it was a reference to Harlem, NY during the 1920’s. I was wrong. Black Wall Street was located in Tulsa, Oklahoma. This history lesson came in the form of a conference, and by accident.

The workshop was a breakout session at a conference I attended many years ago for my job. The crowded room was probably in violation of fire codes I am sure, but we remained seated or standing.

The young facilitator was introducing many of us to the world of financial investments and the art of making your money work for you.

Given the fact that I am from a working-class family, this was a welcomed opportunity for me. I heard most of my life I needed more than a savings account, like most people. Our teacher spent time illustrating the concept of how money changes hands in a community to recycle growth and economic development. I was familiar with a few of the terms, but not really sure of how money worked. After his session, It made sense now to buy in your community, to support the locals for your everyday needs.

He also shared his personal story of being the one chosen to work for a major corporation. You know what I am talking about, there is usually one individual of color in a top leadership role who is allowed to reap the financial benefits of the company. (for a season of success.)

This young man did spend his time representing his employer, but his passion was educating us on Tulsa, Oklahoma, and a community called Black Wall Street. Because of him, I have been able to share another “little known fact”. Including the fact, it took an act of Congress to ensure the teachings will no longer be buried.

My daughter and I recently spent our Mother’s Day retreat in Tulsa, for that purpose. I am still struggling to find the words to describe the experience. Proud. Angry. Inspiring. Disappointed in our country. Hopeful. Encouraged. Ashamed of the envious mindset of insecure white people. (again)

Nothing justifies what was allowed to happen to the Greenwood district. Nitroglycerin bombs were dropped from planes with men shooting to kill from low flying planes. This was intentional to stop American Black people from progressing any further. (again) Fact.

Just like visiting the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, the Black Wall Street Exhibit in Tulsa displayed a very special item that captured the spirit of the young people who were also the backbone of the movement.

It was a letter from one friend to another. The letter of concern was from Curtis in Detroit to a dear friend in Tulsa named Oliver after the bombing.

DEAR OLIVER:

I am, by our local newspaper, fully advised of the whole terrible tragedy there. Now that they destroyed your home, wrecked your schools and reduced your business places to ashes, and killed your people, I am sure that you will rapidly give up your town and move North. Enclosed, please find a draft for $40.00 to purchase your ticket to Detroit. Will be expecting you. CURTIS

DEAR CURTIS:

How kind of you to volunteer your sympathetic assistance. It is just like you to be helpful to others in times of stress like this. True it is, we are facing a terrible situation. It is equally true that they have destroyed our homes: they have wrecked our schools; they have reduced our churches to ashes, and they have murdered our people, Curtis but they have not touched our spirit. And while I speak only for myself, let it be said that I came here and built my fortune with that SPIRIT, and I expect to live on and die here with it. OLIVER.

This exchange among these two friends took up a lot of mind space as we traveled back to Texas. I was reminded of a young Diana Nash who was instrumental in organizing Freedom Rides throughout the south in the 60’s.

She was interviewed and warned by a fame-seeking reporter to consider another method of integrating interstate travel to avoid violence and potential death. She boldly told the reporter

“All the young people on the front lines had to prepare a last will and testament to participate. In other words, we are all prepared to die to right this wrong.”

This SPIRIT is visible along the streets surrounding the Black Wall Street museum, with a single brick embedded into the sidewalk representing a thriving business that was destroyed and if it was rebuilt.

As I stated earlier, it is a challenge to find the words to describe all of the emotions but the history of who we are as American Black people will not be buried or go away regardless of new attempts by education lawmakers to consider not teaching the whole truth. And still, we rise. (Again) (Maya Angelou)

FC Hickombottom 5-23-22