What follows is an e-mail essay, written by one of my two best friends, who, as do I, resides in North Carolina - that he sent out to his friends yesterday. It contains his ruminations on the legacy of the Sen. Jesse Helms on the event of his death. I asked him today if I could publish it to my journal and he gave me his blessing, asking to give him author credit, so I present it here. By way of context, the both of us have lived most of our lives here in the Tarheel state, having had to listen to the ubiquitous "Well, I don't agree with him, but you know where he stands/he stands up for what he believes" rationalization that was presented for most of Helms' career by NC denizens as the not-so-covert-as-they-thought rationalization/justification for bigoted votes, votes which kept Helms in the Senate for so long. Please keep in mind that this was written as an e-mail to friends, so it is not structured as a polished op/ed necessarily, just ideas presented to companions. Thoughts On The Death Of Jesse Helms (Two Movies)By Dana Hatcher
One of my favorite movies is director Arthur Penn’s 1970 “Little Big Man.” Based on Thomas Berger’s novel, it’s the story of Jack Crabb (Dustin Hoffman), a white man who is adopted by the Indian tribe that has killed his parents. His new “grandfather” is a chief named Old Lodge Skins (Chief Dan George), who gives the brave, but scrawny, lad the name Little Big Man.
Oddly, this film came to mind when I heard that Jesse Helms had died. In “Little Big Man,” Old Lodge Skins is depicted as a proud, brave, unwavering believer in the ways of his people. He even refers to his tribe—his race of people—as “The Human Beings” because he believes that they are the only true human beings on the planet. It’s not any kind of conscious racism that has led him to this conclusion. It’s just that Old Lodge Skins believes that his tribe has been put on earth by whatever Supreme Being there is and that the rest of the world is strange and somewhat menacing.
Old Lodge Skins, of course, has every reason to think that way. For generations, his people had controlled the land on which they lived. They made the rules, and they lived pretty much as they wanted to live. Then another race of people threatened that way of life, and Old Lodge Skins became something of an anachronism. Still, he was the standard bearer for his people, someone the tribe revered and tried to emulate.
At the end of the film, Old Lodge Skins decides that his time on this earth has come to an end. He tells Little Big Man that “Today is a good day to die.” The younger man accompanies the old warrior up to the top of a hill where they wait for the old man’s death. Eventually, it begins to rain, and Old Lodge Skins realizes that it’s not yet time for him to die. So, the two of them head back down the hill to their encampment. This is the last time we see Old Lodge Skins in the film. It can be assumed that he lived out his days becoming increasingly disillusioned by the changes in the world around him. But many in his tribe, I’m sure, continued to believe in the values he had lived and preached, holding on to the belief that they were the true Human Beings, the only people on earth favored by The Supreme Being.
I want to make it clear that I believe that Old Lodge Skins is a much more admirable character than Jesse Helms. For one thing, the people who destroyed Old Lodge Skins’ way of life were individuals who, paradoxically, came to this land to escape suppression in other parts of the world. The people who Jesse Helms fought to keep from destroying his way of life were those whose ancestors were either brought here against their will as slaves or who had beliefs and traditions that were different from those of the senator.
Independence Day is either an ironic or an appropriate day for Jesse Helms’ death, depending on one’s personal beliefs. July fourth is the day that our nation was born, “conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” Of course, in Senator Helms’ world (and that of his followers and admirers), “all men” refers to White Anglo-Saxon Protestants who continue to strive for the ideal of Manifest Destiny. Helms, no doubt, kept in mind that the man who coined the term “all men are created equal” was himself a slave owner.
Like Old Lodge Skins, Helms could be courtly, charming, and, in his own way, quite admirable. Helms was not a liar or a crook. He always stood by his principles. Unfortunately, those principles were based on the belief that one race of people and one way of life were superior to all the rest.
Throughout his long life and career, Jesse Helms fought to prevent all men (and women) from becoming equal. Helms began his political career in the 1950 Senate race between Republican candidate Willis Smith and UNC President Franklin Porter Graham. Helms helped create attack ads that stated, “White people, wake up before it is too late. Do you want Negroes working beside you, your wife, and your daughters in your mills and factories? Frank Graham favors mingling of the races.” Four decades later, Helms’ own reelection campaign was still (successfully) using race-baiting in his ads against his opponent Harvey Gantt.
On an appearance on Larry King’s talk show in 1995, a caller thanked Helms for all he had done over the years “to help keep down the niggers.” Helms’ response was a salute and the words, “Well, thank you, I think.”
Helms’ support of fascist regimes in El Salvador, South Africa, and many other parts of the world is also well documented. It was another part of his belief that certain people need to be suppressed.
On Sunday, July 6, two days after the death of a man who spent his life working to prevent African-Americans and other minorities from achieving equality, a group of black men and women known as “The Norfolk 17” was honored at the First Baptist Church in Norfolk, Virginia. Fifty years ago, Norfolk closed six of its all-white public schools as part of Virginia’s defiant response to orders from the U.S. Supreme Court calling for the integration of all public schools. Seventeen young African-Americans, fourteen of whom are still living, bravely faced the taunts and threats of white students and parents as they became the first blacks to attend the formerly all-white public schools in Norfolk.
Perhaps our nation can view the honoring of The Norfolk 17 as another step toward finally recognizing that all men (and women) are, indeed, created equal. Helms’ death on Independence Day, then, can be seen as the symbolic death of the hypocrisy that accompanied the coining of the phrase “all men are created equal” by a white slave owner. So, perhaps it’s not ironic, after all, that Helms died on Independence Day. Like Old Lodge Skins, his time had passed. There are many people who are mourning the passing of Helms. However, unlike Helms and his supporters, there are many more people who embrace Jefferson’s ideal of equality for all, rather than the twisted values of bigotry that brought Africans to our shores nearly four hundred years ago.
For the first time in our nation’s history, there is a very strong possibility that we may soon have an African-American President. Not just an African-American President, but a President who is the offspring of a black man and a white woman. Oh, how far we have come!
So, The Norfolk 17 did not face those taunts and threats in vain. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.—whose birthday is now a federal holiday despite opposition from Jesse Helms—did not die in vain, nor did scores of others who were murdered by racists over the years.
Our nation’s democracy is still a work in progress. That 52-55 percent of North Carolina’s population who embrace Helms’ beliefs and continued to elect him to the Senate apparently continue to cling to the prejudices of the past. In contrast, those who honored The Norfolk 17 two days after Helms’ death recognize that they were the hope of our future.
Helms’ passing has been accompanied by much public mourning. Watching the parade of (white) people praising Helms actually reminds me of one other movie from the 1970s. It’s the Burt Reynolds film “White Lightning.” Burt plays a good old boy who goes after the no-good racist Southern sheriff who killed Burt’s brother. At the end of a prolonged chase, Burt contrives a situation that results in the death of the sheriff. The last scene of the movie is Burt walking away as the entire (white) population of the town holds a huge funeral for their beloved fallen leader.
I like to think that Burt is walking toward a brighter future at the end of that movie.
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