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OXFORD Forty years ago, armed
soldiers marched through the streets of
this town, dodging bricks, pipes and insults
as they sought to quell a riot.
On Tuesday, about 100 of them returned,
some in wheelchairs, some with stooped
backs, all of them happy to return to
the place that once cursed them.
"American history doesn't get any
more magnificent than this day,"
said author William Doyle, whose 2001
book, An American Insurrection, recounts
what happened during that national crisis
when federal troops were called in to
protect the first known black student
to enroll at the University of Mississippi.
As Gov. Ronnie Musgrove called them heroes,
and as Oxford city officials gave them
keys to the city, tears flowed freely.
"I never thought I'd receive this,"
said Oscar Spence, one of the members
of the Army's elite SWAT team, the 503rd
Military Police Battalion.
Clutching the copper key he was given,
the 63-year-old former soldier from Albemarle,
N.C., said, "This is something I'll
pass on to my children and grandchildren."
Forty years ago when James Meredith broke
the color barrier at all-white Ole Miss,
a riot ensued, leading to two deaths and
hundreds of people being injured.
On Tuesday, Meredith, who participated
in ceremonies at the university later
in the evening, posed for photos with
the same soldiers who had protected him.
"I thought that the fact that the
marshals particularly and the military
followed the command of the authority
of the United States was what made today
possible," Meredith said. "That
to me was what was significant. There
was nothing that happened that history
didn't predict. There's nothing happening
now that really surprises me."
Mayor Richard Howorth thanked the soldiers
for their courage. "Surely there
would have been worse human casualties
had it not been for the intervention of
the armed forces," he said.
Musgrove said their fight helped build
Mississippi.
"The state now leads the nation in
African-American officials," he said.
"We are not a symbol of the past
but a beacon for the future."
Just 10 yards from Musgrove, the bronze
statue of author William Faulkner in a
sitting pose and holding his pipe seemed
to be paying rapt attention.
"To live anywhere in America and
be against equality, Faulkner said, is
like living in Alaska and being against
snow," Musgrove said.
While the city honored those who protected
Meredith, Ole Miss honored the man who
helped pave his way, Medgar Evers, field
secretary of the Mississippi NAACP, who
was assassinated in 1963.
A permanent exhibit honoring Evers was
unveiled Tuesday afternoon at the law
school, which denied his admission in
1954.
His widow, Myrlie Evers- Williams, read
a news article about the 1954 event in
which he was asked where he would stay
if he attended: "On the campus, sir.
I'm very hygienic, and I assure you this
brown won't rub off."
The crowd laughed.
She recounted her husband's words that
Mississippi would be the best place in
the nation to live once it dealt with
its race problems.
"If he were here, he would say, 'Let
this be a new beginning,'" she told
those gathered, including many of the
distinguished black graduates of the law
school.
As dusk fell on Sept. 30, 1962, after
Meredith was officially enrolled at Ole
Miss following a U.S. Supreme Court ruling,
angry students gathered on campus, and
people such as Bishop Duncan Gray confronted
them.
"We were trying to get the rioters
to give up their weapons and go back to
the dormitories," he said. "We
were successful early on, but as the night
wore on, there were fewer and fewer students
and more and more people from other places."
The mob soon included rioters from as
far away as California.
Marshals first defended the campus and
Meredith from the onslaught of bricks
and bullets. Outmanned and outgunned,
they defended the lyceum from attack,
using tear gas.
"They fought with their backs to
the wall," Doyle said. "One
official compared it to the Alamo."
Don Forsht, 75, of Miami, one of those
marshals that night, said, "We had
a group of guys who had their act together.
They had true grit. They were going to
do their job, come hell or high water."
Next came the Mississippi National Guard,
which President Kennedy had federalized.
Bruce McElroy, who was with the Mississippi
National Guard, pointed two blocks south
of the town square. "They were shelling
our vehicles with bricks," said McElroy,
now 81, of Baldwyn.
When one soldier was nearly hit with a
pipe, he accidentally fired his pistol,
causing the other soldiers to instinctively
fire their M-14s into the air, he said.
"(The rioters) all stopped and put
their bricks down."
Further help came from soldiers ordered
to this town by President Kennedy, Doyle
said. "This was a combat rescue of
a town, and it had to avoid killing civilians.
The first troops that entered experienced
a scene that was like it was from Dante's
Inferno."
Melvin Brown, a native of West, was with
the 503rd unit, which went through a wall
of fire to get onto the Ole Miss campus.
"We didn't have time to think,"
said the 63-year-old Brown, who now lives
in Augusta, Ga. "There were bricks
thrown at us, cars rolled at us on fire,
Molotov cocktails thrown at us."
Brown was among the nine black soldiers
in the 503rd. "That night, the rioters
could care less about your color,"
he said. "All they cared about was
your uniform."
The tear gas saved the lives not only
of the soldiers but of the mob, he said.
"If it hadn't been for that, we would
have had to fire back, and there would
have been a lot of bloodshed."
Doyle said the amazing restraint and professionalism
of the soldiers show they deserve medals
something their superiors believed
they deserved but never gave them.
"They say the mark of a hero is that
he doesn't talk about his deeds of courage,"
he said. "When I talked to the sons
and daughters, they never knew what their
fathers had done. Heroes don't get any
more genuine than that."
On that Tuesday morning 40 years ago,
as dawn broke and the tear gas cleared,
he said, a storekeeper emerged to see
scores of armed troops.
"Thank God," the storekeeper
said, "you saved our town."
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