The True Face of Clinton

Municipal election day came clear and warm last week to Clinton, Tenn. Main Street was gay with holly and Christmas lights. The Rev. Paul Turner, 33, pastor of the First Baptist Church, the community's largest, dressed slowly before setting out on a mission of importance and, as it developed, of danger. On the outskirts of town, a small band of white men glared up at the cluster of homes atop Foley's Hill, where live the Negroes whose children would try soon again to attend Clinton high school. Thus did Clinton (pop. about 3,700 law-abiding citizens and about 300 defiant segregationists), a town with a split personality, begin a critical day in its history.

Tucked away in the Cumberland foothills of East Tennessee, Clinton* is an improbable place for racial crisis. Its sons fought for the North in the Civil War (Clinton has voted Republican virtually ever since). About 800 Clintonians work for Union Carbide Nuclear Co. at nearby Oak Ridge, where, as at other federal enclaves, the schools have been successfully integrated. Most of Clinton's 48 Negro families own their own homes and have long been accepted as solid, sober members of a solid, sober (and Baptist-dry) community.

When the order to integrate Clinton high school came last January, hardly any of the townfolk liked the idea—but nearly all of them accepted it as law. Then upon Clinton descended Demagogue Frederick John Kasper, 27, a Washington, D.C. bookseller (now free on $10,000 bond while a contempt-of-court conviction is being appealed), to breathe racial fire into the quiet town. The vast majority of Clintonians remained willing to obey the law. But some followed Kasper, set themselves up as an obscene, stone-throwing vigilante group, drove the Negro children from Clinton high school (TIME, Sept. 10 et seq.).

"That'll Teach Yuh." The town election last week offered a test of the segregationists' strength; they backed candidates for mayor and three aldermanic posts against men who were willing to accept integration. The Rev. Paul Turner offered another test; he announced that on election day he would escort Negro children from their homes to Clinton high school. Even as Clinton's voters were moving to the polls, Paul Turner walked slowly up Foley's Hill, where he was met half way by six Negro boys and girls.

Turner led the nervously smiling children through a gauntlet of epithets ("nigger-lovin' son of a bitch") to the school, left them there, headed back through town. Suddenly his way was blocked by three husky men. One grabbed him. He twisted, ran headlong into another, broke away, dodged across the street and was caught again, just a few yards from one of Clinton's two polling places. Under a storm of fists, Turner fell back against a car that was soon smeared with his blood. Then he went all the way down. Others, including two hysterical women, joined the kicking, clawing, screaming mob. A man and a woman from a nearby insurance office tried to help Turner. The man was driven back and pelted with eggs; the woman was pushed against a storefront by another woman. Arriving belatedly, police broke up the brawl. Sneered one of Turner's assailants while being led away: "That'll teach yuh, Reverend."