Chapter 24: I’m a Believer - JFK, Jerry Falwell, and the New American Crusade
Above: President Kennedy addresses US Servicemen as they return home from South Vietnam. The administration’s withdrawal plans called for all American personnel to be out of the country by the end of the year. (Left). Evangelical Southern Baptist preacher Jerry Falwell speaks at the opening ceremonies of the Lynchburg Christian Academy, a segregated school opened by his Thomas Road Baptist Church in Virginia. (Right.)
The dawn of a new year brought both tremendous promise and trepidation to an American people increasingly aware of divides within their society. In Washington and state houses across the country, change was once again on the way as the Democratic party staved off an insurgent GOP and the New Deal Coalition continued to crack and fade in the shifting sands of domestic politics. As was becoming the norm for the turbulent decade, marches and demonstrations were planned across the country. The Civil Rights Movement had achieved a great deal in the name of greater freedom and equality for African-Americans and other minority groups, yet obstacles persisted nonetheless. For one thing, the movement itself was fracturing along lines of methodology. Followers of Martin Luther King Jr. and other proponents of non-violent protest were being questioned by the increasingly popular “Black Power” movement, personified by the Black Panther Party and their rhetoric of taking what was rightfully theirs by force. The Civil Rights Act and Voting Rights Act had been great steps forward, but race relations were a complex issue, and expecting that legislation alone could sew up the wounds of centuries of mistreatment was setting oneself up for disappointment.
Particularly pertinent in 1967 was the issue of housing discrimination across the United States, particularly in the South. Since the passage of the first Jim Crow laws in the aftermath of the Civil War, white landlords and renters had been able to refuse to rent out or sell property to African Americans. This practice was struck down in 1917 by the Supreme Court case
Buchanan v. Warley as unconstitutional, yet persisted when nineteen states legally allowed so called “covenants”, or agreements between property owners not to rent or sell homes to racial and ethnic minorities. These covenants too, were declared in 1948, but the practice was not banned in private deeds and agreements. This lack of a ban on housing discrimination, even in the Civil Rights Act of 1964, proved a major issue for African Americans seeking better living accommodations as they attained higher incomes and a broadly better quality of life throughout the Kennedy years thanks to the still booming economy. With Voting Rights secured, the movement began to push for a “housing bill” and turned to the President to champion yet another piece of legislation for social progress and advancement.
President Kennedy, eager to disprove his critics and demonstrate his continued potency as the nation’s Chief Executive, jumped at the challenge the bill represented. Adding it to the list of goals left to complete before the end of his administration, the President reached out to Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield and asked him about the possibility of getting a housing bill passed in the current political climate. Mansfield replied with concrete confidence and certainty: “Mr. President, with the economy running like it is, and the boys coming home from that damned jungle, I’d say your chances are looking pretty good.” Further, Mansfield believed that though the Civil Rights Movement had earned some bad press in the wake of the Watts riots and other violence throughout the previous year, bipartisan support for its goals, if not its methods, remained relatively high. Southern Democrats in the Strom Thurmond mold continued to vehemently oppose it, of course, but there was not much that could be done about that. The crucial swing votes, Mansfield insisted, were intact. House Speaker John McCormack concurred, telling Kennedy that any bill he backed to end bigoted housing practices would make it through the lower chamber of Congress as well. Satisfied with the legislation’s prospects, the President gave the bill the go ahead, seeing it introduced to the House by Congressman Emanuel Celler (D - NY) in the first few weeks of the 90th Congress’ tenure.
…
Though the President and his allies in Washington were working to once again expand inclusion of African Americans in society, just 180 miles south, another battle was being launched, this one toward exactly the opposite end. Nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains and along the banks of the James River, Lynchburg, Virginia was a sleepy city of some 65,000 and home to the Thomas Road Baptist Church. Boasting of a congregation of several hundred members, the church had been founded by its bombastic Pastor, Reverend Jerry Falwell and thirty four other disaffected evangelicals back in 1956. Committed to a conservative worldview, Falwell had managed to cultivate his small community into a successful venture, expanding from just a worship house to build Lynchburg Christian Academy in the winter of 1967. This new school, dedicated in Falwell’s words to “providing members of our congregation with a Christian alternative in education” was little more than an excuse to construct a segregated school in modern Virginia.
Falwell’s views on race were “old fashioned” to say the least in a nation rapidly progressing toward egalitarianism. In speaking of the landmark Supreme Court decision in
Brown v. Board of Education, Falwell said:
“If Chief Justice Warren and his associates had known God's word and had desired to do the Lord's will, I am quite confident that the 1954 decision would never had been made. The facilities should be separate. When God has drawn a line of distinction, we should not attempt to cross that line.”
A longtime personal friend and supporter of former Alabama Governor George Corey Wallace, Falwell was not at all surprised to receive a call from him on a brisk January morning, as Falwell was finishing lunch and his midday prayer. “Governor Wallace,” Falwell grinned and let his southern drawl drip over the line like icing down a cake. “I do declare that this is a particular honor. To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you this morning?”
“Nice to speak to you too, Reverend.” Despite his capacity for charm when the need arose, Wallace wasted little time on pleasantries. The nation he and Falwell had grown up in, the one Wallace had plans to save, was rapidly deteriorating before their eyes. Hippies had, two days before on the 14th, completely overrun the Golden Gate Park Polo Fields in San Francisco, at an event they called the “Human Be-In”, a mass celebration of free love, psychedelic music, and mind altering drugs like LSD. It was at this event that Timothy Leary would utter his famous maxim for counterculture of the era: “Turn on, tune in, drop out.” Wallace watched coverage of the event on television with his children and wife, then current Alabama Governor, Lurleen, and was absolutely disgusted. The images of “unwashed, savage kids” in their long hair, roman sandals and beads singing songs of rebellion and practicing lewd sex well within the public eye, rose a great deal of cain for the self professed segregationist. Only a minute into their call, Wallace confirmed that Falwell too, had seen the footage and was equally disturbed. “I’m telling you, Father, these damned anarchists ought to be shot.”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far.” The Preacher laughed. “But I agree that their behavior is unacceptable. Something really ought to be done about it. Police called in to break up the riots, put these kids back in their place. Wasn’t Governor Reagan sworn in on the 2nd?” Falwell asked, hope plainly evident in his voice. “He seems like just the man to fix the problems they’ve been having out there on the West Coast, if you ask me. It’s a real shame we can’t get anyone like that to run for President. The Good Lord knows that the country could use some law and order.”
For Falwell and his flock, the recent trends in American society needed to be stopped not just because they presented a challenge to christian ideals like purity and restraint, but because they undermined America’s position as God’s chosen country. Ever since the puritans boarded the Mayflower and built their settlement near Plymouth Rock, to Falwell, the New World had been a blank slate, granted to the White man by Divine Providence to serve as the bedrock for a new Kingdom, one built squarely in the image of his omniscient will, devoid of the sin and hierarchy of the Old World. Here, in the bountiful once-wilderness of America, man could strive to build a nation worthy of the legacy of Christ. But now? Falwell was unsure if his beloved country was still living up to its potential.
“I’m glad you feel that way, Reverend.” On the other end of the line, a deep, satisfied grin spread across the face of George Corey Wallace. “Because I happen to be preparing to run for President myself. I called to ask if you would help me in my endeavor.”
“Me?” Falwell replied, flattered and flabbergasted in equal parts. “Well Governor, I’m humbled, but confused. You surely must have powerful friends all across the country. Your run last time ‘round was an inspiration to true conservatives throughout the South. Why turn to someone like me before even announcing your campaign?”
Wallace nodded, this was a question he had expected, prepared for. “Because Reverend, I’m not just running for President this time. I have bigger plans, and I need someone with your set of skills, your tenacity, your dedication, your faith, to help me see them through.”
“Bigger than running for President?” Falwell guffawed. “No offense, Governor, but I must remind you that pride goeth before the fall. I believe that with the proper support you could make a solid run at the White House, maybe even force the thing into the House of Representatives like you planned in ‘64. But winning outright would be impossible unless you win the backing of one of the major parties.” The very thought nearly made the Minister gag. Neither the Democrats, nor the Republicans, the party he had happened to support throughout his adult life, seemed particularly willing to tackle the problems facing the country into the latter half of the 20th century. Sure there were glimmers of hope like Reagan here and there, but in terms of national politics, conservatism seemed mostly dead in the water.
Most of the speculative GOP candidates for President in the next year’s election seemed hardly any less liberal than the likely Democrats. George Romney, for instance, the good looking, slightly graying Governor of Michigan had led the “miracle march”, a name Falwell found almost as distasteful as the event itself.
It wasn’t a damned miracle. He had told himself bitterly after it happened.
Just a damned n****r lover trying to peddle votes. Even Barry Goldwater, conservative icon and Senator from Arizona, was more socially liberal than Falwell felt comfortable with. Earlier in 1966, Goldwater came out in favor of a woman’s “right” to an abortion, and said that “religion has no place in politics, Presidential or otherwise” when asked in 1960 if then-Senator Kennedy’s Catholicism disqualified him from the Presidency. To a self-professed “political preacher” like Falwell, such opinions were blasphemous.
Only we Godly men can lead this country toward its destiny. “Are you seeking the Democratic nomination then, Governor?”
“Not quite, Reverend. Nor am I seeking the Republican nod, either. No, I think the time has come for us as a nation to admit that our two party system has failed us. If neither party is willing to look frankly at solutions to the violence and debauchery flooding our streets, perhaps the time has come for a new party to rise in their place.” Wallace leaned back in his favorite armchair and worked himself up to deliver the fever pitch of his call.
I always was a damned good salesman. He thought smugly to himself. “Reverend, I want to be the founder of a new, decidedly conservative party. Not just for my own quest for the Presidency, but all the way down to the grassroots themselves. I want Mayors, aldermen, Governors, Senators, all paying homage to the great cause we’d represent. I think that together, with your connections to the religious right in our fair country, and my skill at pitchman-ship, we could change the face of political life in America forever.” He let the offer sink in for a moment, not wanting to rush his prospective partner. “So Father, what do you think?”
Falwell was silent, stunned, and thrilled at the proposition laid before him. Knowing there would be mountains of work ahead if he was to see this crusade to save his country through, the Minister did not delay. “I only have one question, Governor.” He placed his hand on his bible and flipped to a favorite verse. Psalms 118:6:
‘The LORD is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me?’
“Of course, Father, what is it?” Wallace responded, realizing he had done his part in convincing Falwell.
“When do we begin?”
Next Time on Blue Skies in Camelot: Tensions rise as the Space Race becomes a cooperative struggle.