There's Hope for the World: The Memoir of Birmingham, Alabama's First African American Mayor

by Richard Arrington

Overview

On a sultry September morning in 1955, a young African American man, the son of share croppers, boarded a Greyhound bus in Birmingham, Alabama, to leave his home state for the first time in his life. He was headed for the University of Detroit on a teaching scholarship from MilesCollege. Richard Arrington could not have guessed then that his future as a teacher would be postponed for decades by big-city politics--and that he would serve a record-setting five terms as chief executive of Alabama’s largest city.

Under Arrington’s leadership, Birmingham rebuilt itself from a foundering, steel-driven industrial center to one of the most diversified metropolitan areas in the Southeast, with an economy fueled by health care, biomedical research, engineering, telecommunications, and banking. As mayor, Arrington’s economic legacy is impressive. When he left office, Birmingham boasted a record number of jobs and the lowest unemployment rate in its history. Additionally, Birmingham had built the strongest tax base in Alabama, expanded its city limits by 60 square miles, reduced crime to its lowest level in 25 years, and funded a $260 million school construction program. Today Birmingham is financially sound and is the only city in the Southeast with a $100 million endowment fund.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780817380410
Publisher:	University of Alabama Press
Publication date:	08/19/2014
Sold by:	Barnes & Noble
Format:	eBook
Pages:	320
File size:	6 MB

About the Author

Richard Arrington holds a Ph.D. in zoology and biochemistry and did postdoctoral work in higher education administration at Harvard University and the University of Michigan.  During his two decades as Birmingham’s mayor, he served on dozens of community service boards and the Executive Committee of the Alabama Democratic Party and chair of the National Democratic Party’s Platform Committee for the 1980 Convention. He was selected as one of the Top 20 City Officials in the nation by U.S. News & World Report. 

Read an Excerpt

There's Hope for the World

The Memoir of Birmingham, Alabama's First African American Mayor

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By Richard Arrington

The University of Alabama Press

Copyright © 2008 The University of Alabama Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-8173-8041-0

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CHAPTER 1

LEAVING CITY HALL

The Last Day

I begin this memoir where it ends—on my last day as mayor of Birmingham.

The northeastern part of the third floor of Birmingham City Hall, which houses the offices and conference rooms of the mayor and his staff, is already deserted. It has been nearly twenty years since I was first elected mayor of Alabama's largest city on October 30, 1979. It is Monday, 5:45 P.M., July 19, 1999. I walk slowly down the hallways, peering into each office and conference room. The only other person present in the complex is police lieutenant Eugene Thomas, who is in charge of the mayor's security staff; everyone else had left by 5:00. Eugene is seated behind the reception desk at the entrance of the complex, waiting to drive me from city hall to my home. Normally Eugene or Sergeant Fred Shaw, the other member of the security staff, accompanies me to my car at the end of the day. On this day, my last as mayor, Lieutenant Thomas will drop me off at home. The city car assigned to me had been checked in to the city garage earlier that afternoon.

As I walked into the reception area where Eugene was sitting, I noticed the space on the glass window next to the door to the complex, which usually read "Richard Arrington Jr.—Mayor," had been changed to "William A. Bell, Interim Mayor." The city's print shop had made the change earlier that afternoon. The walls, hallways, and reception area where a hundred or more plaques and framed recognitions that had been given to me during my twenty-year term as mayor usually hung were bare. My staff had spent much of the day removing the plaques, wrapping them, and placing them in boxes labeled for their next destination—my home or the city archives.

That entire day had been a relatively quiet one for my staff and me. The usually busy schedule of people coming into and going out of the office on city business had been left free of visitors, since I wanted to be able to tie up any loose ends I had overlooked. The staff's farewell party for me, the departing interviews with reporters, the last regular staff meeting, and the like had all been crammed into a very tight schedule during the week of July 12. On Friday, July 16, at 10:00 A.M. I had met with City Council president William Bell and the city department heads for about thirty minutes. I began the meeting by thanking the department heads for their support of my administration and then turned the meeting over to William Bell for his comments and instructions. Bell's comments were very brief. In substance he said, "Business will continue as usual." On July 13, a resolution by City Councilman Aldrich Gunn to rename a street running from the city's southern boundary through downtown to near the city's eastern area airport had been approved by the City Council. On the same day at 2:00 P.M. at Patton Park, a ceremony unveiling a new street sign—"Richard Arrington Jr. Boulevard"—was held.

I walked back into my office, sat behind my "formal" desk, and in a matter of a few minutes I was seized by a surprising lump in my throat. It was an emotional reaction to the realization that I was leaving the mayor's office after twenty years. I became choked up and very teary-eyed. It was a reaction and perhaps a moment I'd never really anticipated. If I had thought about this moment before, I'm sure that I thought I would be leaving with great relief and maybe even joy. But now it was just the opposite. I rose from my seat behind the desk and walked again down the back hallway of the complex past the offices of my staff. The emotional feeling of the moment did not subside but grew in intensity. I thought to myself, "Shoot, this is bull crap." But I couldn't psych myself out of the sadness I felt over leaving. Slowly I walked back to my office, picked up my briefcase, and headed out into the reception area where Lieutenant Thomas waited. He looked up and said, "Ready to go, Boss? Got everything? Need me to get anything for you? Here, let me take your briefcase." "I think I've got it all. Let's go," I said, speaking slowly and avoiding looking at the lieutenant for fear he'd see that my eyes were teary and hear my distinctive, always high-pitched, reedy voice cracking. Then we took the elevator down to the parking area, departing from my usual pattern of walking the back way, sixty-five steps to my car from my office whenever I left city hall, no matter the number of times a day. Eugene continued trying to converse with me as he drove me home. I gave brief responses in a monotone voice while pretending to be peering out the car window. But I was still just trying to hide the emotions I felt about leaving. At home, Eugene carried my briefcase into the house and said, "OK, Boss, I'll see you later." He shook my hand and left. I was relieved that he was leaving because I thought I would cry at any moment. Now at home, with nobody around me for a while, I began to regain my composure. But I spent the next hour reflecting on some of the events that had occurred during my time in the mayor's office. The thoughts came cascading down, converging as if looking at fragments in a kaleidoscope.

On the table in my den, by the couch where I was seated, my attention turned to a small book on the City of Birmingham that I kept there. It was the city's Centennial Celebration book, titled Portrait of Birmingham. The book had been published by the 1971 Birmingham Centennial Committee. It contained five pages on the city's first one hundred years and a large number of photographs of notable city sites. I turned to the page that gave a brief synoptic outline of highlights in the city's existence. There was the story of a young city, just turning one hundred, telling how its rich natural resources of coal, coke, limestone, and iron ore and a railroad helped transform it into what it had once been—the leading industrial center of the Southeast, a steel industry giant: the Magic City.

Seeing the city's once beloved but now forgotten slogan, "Birmingham—The Magic City," reminded me of the first time I saw the huge neon sign proclaiming Birmingham as the Magic City. It was erected downtown facing the Terminal Station and welcomed people arriving via the station. As I sat there reflecting, I could see the sign in my mind as clearly as I did the first time my dad took me downtown to the station. I was not yet ten years old and we were there to see a relative off. We found the colored waiting room in the terminal and before long my relative was boarding the train. Walking out of the front entrance of the terminal, one could not help but see the large neon sign standing higher than the terminal and surrounding buildings, attached to a steel-latticed frame reading "Birmingham—The Magic City." The sign, anchored on each side of the street, straddled the Fifth Avenue north subway entrance for cars and railcars and ran directly under the center of the beautiful station. The Terminal Station and the Magic City sign—what a pretty sight for my young eyes! The sign was a gift to the city from E. H. Elliott, a reminder that this young post—Civil War town of the Deep South had grown amazingly fast from a small pioneer town into the leading industrial center of the South.

Both the sign and the station are long gone; both were demolished in the early 1950s. I've heard many citizens express regret that the station was not preserved as one of Birmingham's outstanding structures. But I have never heard an expression of regret that the Magic City sign was demolished—perhaps some thought it tacky or maybe, as I thought on this sad day, no one believed that we could rightfully boast that our city was "magic" any longer. Battered by the economic malaise of the faltering steel economy and the bitter, haunting echoes of racial division, Birmingham saw its magic evaporate and witnessed other, once less affluent, southern cities surpass it in economic growth.

Although it was too late to save the old Terminal Station, perhaps with hard work and vision we citizens could make Birmingham a proud Magic City once again.

My twenty-year administration was certainly a time of positive, significant changes that I hoped would restore some of the magic. My administration and the ones following it are part of our city's search for its magic—to restore its prominence as a progressive city. Indeed, the challenge for Birmingham still is to find its magic.

The book also described crises that seemed to always develop to halt the city's progress and keep it from fulfilling what its critics still call "its perpetual promise." These included the cholera epidemic, the Great Depression, and racial strife. These were called the "storms of change." Under the heading "Century of Storms," the committee wrote, "Even before Birmingham was 50 years old, it was written, 'Our most cherished desires have often been torn to pieces. Sickness, struggle, bereavement, poverty have come to us. These are facts. They have left their mark on all of us. But let us bear in mind that sorrows are stepping-stones to higher things and press forward.'"

How timely, I thought, to have my attention drawn to that book just as I was reflecting on the successes and failures the city had experienced during my twenty years as its mayor. Surely I had my moments of sorrow when some major public policy initiatives had failed. And the collapse of the steel industry shortly after I took office was a storm. I couldn't quite bring myself to see them as "stepping-stones to higher things." But there were noteworthy transitions that occurred during my tenure. I thought both the "sorrows" and the "transitions" were worth writing about and evaluating. I wondered what a Birmingham mayor would say about 1979–99 twenty years later. Would he/she agree with me that it was a time of major transition and reconciliation for our city mixed in with a "steppingstone of sorrow" here and there? In the pages that follow, I tell my story of my city's efforts during my tenure as mayor to regain its once proud reputation of being a progressive city—a story of transitions, reconciliation, and sorrows.

THE DECISION TO LEAVE CITY HALL

My decision to leave the mayor's office before my fifth term ended had been made two years earlier. While attending a City Council weekend retreat at Point Clear near Mobile, Alabama, I had been approached by William Bell during one of the sessions. He asked if he could meet with me later that evening at the close of the session. We agreed to meet in my room. As soon as Bell asked for the meeting, I knew what was coming. Donald Watkins, my attorney and a close friend, had alerted me to the fact that Bell was going to ask me to leave office early so that he could become interim mayor and have what he thought would be the advantage of his running for mayor as the incumbent. Under the state law that established Birmingham's mayor-council form of government in 1963, in conjunction with the ouster of the city's commission form of government and the infamous Eugene "Bull" Connor, the president of the Birmingham City Council would become mayor of the city if a vacancy existed in the position of mayor for any reason. The law further stated that in case of such a vacancy, a city election for mayor must be held within ninety days of the date the vacancy occurred.

In our meeting that evening Bell asked whether I would be willing to resign from the office of mayor early. We discussed different scenarios about my possible resignation and how the entire matter might play out. Bell, who had been elected to the City Council in 1979, had shared with me his interest in seeking the position of mayor at the end of my first mayoral term. At that time he had inquired about my interest in seeking another term, saying that he wanted to seek the office but would not do so as long as I ran for reelection. He was always true to his word. Even when I sought my fourth and fifth terms as mayor, after earlier stating I would not seek reelection, Bell reiterated his interest in running for mayor but not against me. I even encouraged him on two occasions to run even though I was running for reelection. He said, "No, I'm never going to run against you. I'll just wait."

Our conversation that evening at Point Clear ended with an understanding that I would likely resign early when I no longer wanted to seek reelection. Bell had emphasized that he was in no way urging me not to seek reelection. I'm sure that he was remembering that I had told him on two other occasions that I would not seek reelection as mayor but later ended up doing just that. We never spoke again about this matter until two years later in 1999 when I told Bell I was not going to run for a sixth term. Following one of our council meetings I asked him whether he was still interested in becoming interim mayor and being in the position to seek the office of mayor as the incumbent. He said that he was. Before mentioning this to Bell, I had decided not to seek a sixth term. I had also had the city attorney quietly research the law on filling a vacancy in the position of mayor to be certain that my understanding of the law was correct. This done, I decided I could resign as mayor about three months before the regular 1999 mayoral election, which permitted Bell to serve as mayor until the 1999 election. By timing my resignation as such, it also avoided the necessity and expense of a special election to fill the vacancy for the position of mayor.

"OK," I said to Bell, "here is the game plan, but please don't mention it until I make a public announcement of my intention to resign. And remember, if we do it this way, politically speaking, I'll be the albatross around your neck. Do you still want me to do it?" He did. We then talked about how his opposition for the office would probably accuse me of trying to handpick my successor—which, in fact, I was. But Bell thought that the positives of our plan outweighed the negatives and was completely supportive. I was certain William Bell would be the next elected mayor of Birmingham. I was to learn, however, that the best laid plans sometimes go astray—especially in politics. On April 15, 1999, I announced my plan to retire early. On July 19, I retired and the next day Bell was interim mayor.

SETTING THE TABLE FOR THE NEXT MAYOR

It was my desire and intention to leave office with the city clearly on an upward course. I wanted the city to be fiscally strong, which it was. But I also wanted to have in place several well-funded programs that the next mayor could preside over and implement. The new mayor could then get off to a positive start and would have time to lay his own plans for a year or two down the road. I spoke of this as "setting the table" for the next mayor, but perhaps the desire to leave city hall with the city clearly on an upward course was of equal importance to me. If I could achieve this goal, it would be an important steppingstone for the transition to a new administration. I believed that I had benefited from the well-funded projects I inherited from my predecessor, David Vann. Vann had not begun the implementation of his program for business and residential rehabilitation but he had laid the groundwork and put the funding in place. No doubt he thought that he would implement them in his second term as mayor—a term that never came. Foremost among my plans to "set the table" for the new mayor were two projects: the 1998 Metropolitan Area Projects Strategy (MAPS) and the 1999 endowment of a lifetime capital funds program for Birmingham's public schools (from the proceeds of the sale of city's water works and sewer system).

Metropolitan Area Projects Strategy (MAPS)

MAPS was an ambitious metro-wide program that had as its theme "Building the Foundation for Our Future." I believed MAPS would do just that for our city. Implementing MAPS became one of my fondest dreams as mayor. If approved by a countywide vote, MAPS would undoubtedly be the biggest single economic development project undertaken in metro Birmingham.

I am not suggesting that MAPS was a unique Birmingham creation; quite the contrary. As I pointed out repeatedly during the campaign for the MAPS referendum, at least thirteen other cities had successfully funded and implemented MAPS-type programs, including Phoenix, Cleveland, Detroit, Cincinnati, Oklahoma City, Houston, Tampa, Seattle, Chattanooga, Milwaukee, Indianapolis, and Atlanta.

From its very inception as a metro Birmingham project, MAPS faced many hurdles. But let's first outline the economic development projects that made up MAPS.

1. A 200,000-square-foot, $280 million domed public convention and entertainment facility to be connected to the existing Birmingham-Jefferson Convention Complex; $8.7 million for upgrading the existing convention center

2. $75 million for the Public School Education Capital Fund; $2.5 million for enhancement of technology in the regional library system (40 public libraries; $23.5 million for expansion of the McWane Science Center and Imax theater)

(Continues...)

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Excerpted from There's Hope for the World by Richard Arrington. Copyright © 2008 The University of Alabama Press. Excerpted by permission of The University of Alabama Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Table of Contents

Contents
Preface
1 Leaving City Hall: The Last Day
2 Early Life Overview: The Journey from Sharecropping to City Hall
3 The Call of Political Leadership: The Council Race and First Mayoral Election (A Revival of Hope)
4 Police Brutality: Terrorism in Birmingham
5 Police Reform: A First Priority
6 The Controversial Reign of Chief Artie Deutsch
7 The Beginning of the Federal Investigation
8 In the Eye of a Corruption Probe: FBI Surveillance
9 Feds Designate Me as a Target of Grand Jury Investigation
10 The Birmingham Civil Rights Institute (BCRI)
11 Keeping the City Viable: Annexations and Economic Development
12 The Jefferson County Citizens Coalition (JCCC)
13 Politics and Football: The University of Alabama, Auburn, UAB, and the Magic City Classic
14 Stepping-stones: Transition and Reconciliation
Notes
Index