Medgar Evers was killed in front of his Mound Bayou, Mississippi, on June 12, 1963. As the bullet

ricocheted into the home, the lives of his wife, three children and fellow NAACP activists would be for-

ever changed as his prediction came true: “I’m looking to be shot any time I step out of my car.... If I die, it

will be in a good cause. I’ve been fighting for America just as much as the soldiers in Vietnam.” That same

morning John F. Kennedy had announced his support of Civil Rights— the letters on the shirts Evers held

were freshly printed: “Jim Crow Must Go.” He never got to pass the shirts out. Evers died in less than an hour

from the bullet wound he suffered to his back, answering his prediction: “I don’t know if I’m going to heaven

or to hell, but I’m going from Jackson.” But that pain was worth the inspiration of he would give to the coming

years, and it was nothing compared to pain he endured living as a black man in the South. Although his life was

cut short, Evers triumphs over the odds from a young age serve as a reminder to why the Civil Rights Movement was

necessary and an inspiration to anyone supporting the Civil Rights Movement long after equality became a law.

Becoming an activist was something Evers decided from an early age. He witnessed multiple family members

and friends lynched, but he was young. He once recollected: “I graduated pretty quickly. When I was eleven or

twelve a close friend of the family got lynched. I guess he was about forty years old, married, and we used to play

with his kids. I remember the Saturday night a bunch of white men beat him to death at the Decatur fairgrounds

because he sassed back a white woman. They just left him dead on the ground. Everyone in town knew it but never

said a word in public. I went down and saw his bloody clothes. They left those clothes on a fence for about a year.

Every Negro in town was supposed to get the message from those clothes and I can see those clothes now in my

mind’s eye.” So Evers focused on his education, and education he deserved. He did, however, put his education on

hold to join the war efforts of WWII. He fought in the European Theatre, but was honorably discharged as a ser-

geant in 1945. From here, Evers decided it was time to go back to school, which eventually led him to apply to the

segregated University of Mississippi Law School. He was promptly rejected and told he would never be enrolled.

This marked the beginning of Evers involvement in the NAACP. Evers had filed a lawsuit against the university,

which became a large part of the campaign to desegregate schools, to which he said: “Our only hope is to control

the vote.” His lawsuit strengthened the case of “Brown v. Board of Education”— a supreme court ruling that eventu-

ally passed in May of 1954 and goes as follows: “Segregation of white and Negro children in the public schools of a

State solely on the basis of race, pursuant to state laws permitting or requiring such segregation, denies to Negro

children the equal protection of the laws guaranteed by the Fourteenth Amendment— even though the physical

facilities and other “tangible” factors of white and Negro schools may be equal. Pp. 486-496. (A) The history

of the Fourteenth Amendment is inconclusive as to its intended effect on public education. Pp. 489-490.

(B) The question presented in these cases must be determined, not on the basis of conditions existing

when the Fourteenth Amendment was adopted, but in the light of the full development of public

education and its present place in American life throughout the Nation. Pp. 492-493. (C) Where

a State has undertaken to provide an opportunity for an education in its public schools, such an

opportunity is a right which must be made available to all on equal terms. P. 493. (D) Segregation

of children in public schools solely on the basis of race deprives children of the minority group of

equal educational opportunities, even though the physical facilities and other ‘tangible’ factors may

be equal. Pp. 493-494. (E) The “separate but equal” doctrine adopted in Plessy v. Ferguson, 163 U.S. 537,

has no place in the field of public education. P. 495. [347 U.S. 483, 484]. (F) The cases are restored to the

docket for further argument on specified questions relating to the forms of the decrees. Pp. 495-496.”

After his lawsuit, the NAACP asked Evers to become Mississippi’s first NAACP field secretary— a position

he accepted while mentoring James Meredith, one of the first blacks to enroll in the University of Mississippi.

When he addressed Mississippi he said: “If there should be resistance, how much better to have turbulence to

effect improvement, rather than turbulence to maintain a stand-pat policy. We believe that there are white Missis-

sippians who want to go forward on the race question. Their religion tells them there is something wrong with the old

system. Their sense of justice and fair play sends them the same message. But whether Jackson and the State choose

to change or not, the years of change are upon us. In the racial picture, things will never be as they once were.” This

also, however, marked the beginning of a series of threats, both verbal and physical, sent Evers’ way. White suprema-

cists targeted him every day leading up to his death. It didn’t help that he was publicly involved in investigation the

murder of Emmett Till (a young boy killed for flirting with a white woman) and Clyde Kennard (who tried to

enroll multiple times in segregated schools). In the following weeks, Evers would be yelled at,

have a Molotov cocktail (a.k.a. a gasoline bomb) thrown in his carport, chased down by a car

and eventually, assassinated. He was buried with full military honors in Arlington National

Cemetery. Singer/songwriter Bob Dylan wrote this famous song, entitled “Only a Pawn in

Their Game,” about Medgar Evers: A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers’ blood.

A finger fired the trigger to his name. A handle hit out in the dark. A hand set the spark. Two

eyes took the aim. Behind a man’s brain. But he can’t be blamed. He’s only a pawn in their

game. A South politician preaches to the poor white man, ‘You got more than the blacks,

don’t complain. You’re better than them, you been born with white skin,’ they explain.

And the negro’s name Is used it is plain for the politician’s gain as he rises to fame

and the poor white remains on the caboose of the train. But it ain’t him to blame.

He’s only a pawn in their game. The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors

get paid, and the marshals and cops get the same. But the poor white man’s used

in the hands of them all like a tool, he’s taught in his school from the start by the

rule that the laws are with him to protect his white skin to keep up his hate. So he

never thinks straight ‘bout the shape that he’s in but it ain’t him to blame. He’s

only a pawn in their game. From the poverty shacks, he looks from the

cracks to the tracks, And the hoof beats pound in his brain. And he’s

taught how to walk in a pack Shoot in the back with his fist in a clinch

to hang and to lynch. To hide ‘neath the hood. To kill with no pain like a

dog on a chain. He ain’t got no name, but it ain’t him to blame. He’s only

a pawn in their game. Today, Medgar Evers was buried from the bullet

he caught. They lowered him down as a king. But when the shadowy

sun set on the one that fired the gun, he’ll see by his grave on the stone

that remains carved next to his name his epitaph plain: Only a

pawn in their game. June 12, 1963, will forever live in

infamy as the day Medgar Evers died.

Taking aStand

the history channel presents:

Medgar Eversthe story of

“you can kill a man, but you can’t kill an idea”

June 12 at 8 p.m.— to honor Evers’ death anniversaryWWW.HISTORY.COM