Cheers and Tears in the Fifth Ward
November 4th, 2008 by Michael Berryhill
Deidre Rasheed, Democratic field organizer in Harris County, has been having an anxious night. She’s a professional organizer but that doesn’t mean she’s not emotional about the results. Nothing is coming in fast enough. “Pennsylvania!” she yells at 7:40 p.m., as CNN and ABC call the state for Obama. Rasheed volunteered for Obama in Pennslvania, canvassing door-to-door, and she remembers having people say they’re weren’t going to vote for no nigger. The hatred still burns in her mind.
“Girl, how old are you?” says an older woman guarding the gate to the phone room. “Thirty-seven,” Rasheed says. “You mean you don’t know about hate?” the older woman says, laughing about it. “That hate has always been around.” Maybe she would have to laugh about it after growing up in segregation all those years and now seeing the first African American in history elected president of the United States.
I spent a couple of hours yesterday talking to two community organizers in Houston’s heavily African American Fifth Ward, Bob Lee and David Benson. We went over the history of the Fifth Ward for a while. Then they got to recalling segregation. When Bob was about 6 or 7, in the early 1950s, his mother dressed up and walked from the nightclub she ran on Lyons Avenue — Lee’s Congo Bar—and headed to Armstrong drug store to vote. In those days the white poll watchers set up voting booths in the Fifth Ward, but that didn’t mean everybody could vote. Bob’s mother left him outside to play and when she came out she was crying. She never voted before she died in 1970.
Benson and Lee talked about the terror their parents felt back then, how worried they were if their boys didn’t phone in and let them know where they were. They were matter of fact about it, but still angry. They had lived in terror.
So when they asked me why I wanted to be in the Fifth Ward when Obama wins the election, I choked up. I couldn’t speak. They sat quietly until I pulled myself together.
There’s a celebration going on here now, as well there ought to be. Ohio just went to Obama. It’s all over.
There’s yelling and screaming and applause outside and inside. I don’t believe for a moment that our racial problems are solved with this election. Obama is not a black man, Lee and Benson told me. He is a mix of us all. And he’s where he is because of the efforts of a lot of people before him.
Bob Lee brought up Obama’s grandparents, those white Kansans who raised him and loved him. “We should kiss those grandparents,” he said.


