Reading Fueled McNair’s Historic Aspirations

by

John J. Dunphy

This column originally appeared in the 2/8/20 edition of The Telegraph of Alton, IL.

February is Black History Month. This column deals with two of my life’s greatest passions: history and books.

Books open so many doors for young persons. A child who loves to read will grow into an intelligent, well-informed adult who contributes much to our nation and the entire global community.

That’s why I was so moved upon learning of a nine-year-old child who, back in the racially-segregated America of 1959, entered the public library in Lake City, South Carolina to check out some books. It was a one-mile walk from his home to the library, but this child wasn’t in the least deterred. He had a thirst for knowledge that simply had to be quenched.

In an interview years later, this child’s brother recalled that he walked to the library without his parents’ permission or even their knowledge. He selected some books on science and calculus — you’ll recall that he was just nine — and attempted to check them out. That’s when things really got interesting.

It’s unclear whether this child knew the library was off-limits to blacks or simply didn’t care. He wanted to acquire knowledge and knew that reading those books would teach him much. The librarian, unfortunately, wasn’t inclined to assist him in his quest. “This library is not for coloreds,” she told the child. Her attempt to intimidate or even discourage him proved spectacularly unsuccessful. “Well,” the child said, “I would like to check out these books.”

The librarian stepped it up a notch. “Young man, if you don’t leave this library right now, I’m gonna call the police.” Police officers in the South of that era were notorious for their hostility to blacks — especially those blacks that whites regarded as “uppity.” But the child wasn’t fazed in the least. According to his brother’s account of this incident, “So he just propped himself up on the counter, and sat there, and said, ‘I’ll wait.’ “

The librarian indeed phoned the police. She also called the child’s mother. Perhaps she thought his mother could talk some sense into her recalcitrant son. That was yet another miscalculation on the librarian’s part.

It was rare in those days for police officers in Dixie to show any degree of sympathy for a black person — even a child. That day, however, something incredible occurred. The cops sided with a black child. When the two burly policemen showed up, one asked the librarian, “Ma’am, what’s the problem?” The boy’s mother, who had prayed while walking to the library that her son wouldn’t be jailed, asked the librarian the same question. The librarian told the child’s mother, “He wanted to check out those books and, you know, your son shouldn’t be down here.”

One of the police officers said to the librarian, “You know, why don’t you just give the kid the books?” Sensing an opportunity, the mother assured the librarian, “He’ll take good care of them.” Realizing that two compassionate white cops and a determined black mother comprised an unbeatable alliance, the librarian threw in the towel. She “reluctantly handed over the books,” according to the boy’s brother. The young scholar politely thanked the librarian.

Those library books — and many other books like them — enriched the mind of Ronald McNair. He earned a Ph.D in physics in 1976 from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and distinguished himself for work in the field of laser physics. Two years after receiving his doctorate, McNair was one of 35 applicants chosen from a pool of 10,000 for participation in NASA astronaut training. He became just the second black American to fly in space. McNair was one of the seven astronauts killed during the Challenger disaster in 1986.

Those library books fed a young mind that was eager to learn. Encourage your children and grandchildren to read — and, for that matter, read yourself. Books change our world by changing the lives of those who peruse them.

John J. Dunphy’s works include Abolitionism and the Civil War in Southwestern Illinois, Unsung Heroes of the Dachau Trials: The Investigative Work of the U.S. Army 7708 War Crimes Group, 1945–1947, Lewis and Clark’s Illinois Volunteers and From Christmas to Twelfth Night in Southern Illinois.