Editor’s note: Neuse News is reprinting selected articles from the archives of the Olde Kinston Gazette. Some light edits have been made from the original reports.
Enjoy!
Original story by Bonnie Edwards
Originally published: February 1998
Retyped by Gracie Herring / Neuse News Intern
Greg Hannibal of the Micro Enterprise Loan Program at Lenoir Community College says his mother Alice, the first woman and the first African-American elected to the Kinston City Council, didn’t go looking for causes.
“They sneaked up and found her,” he recalls. “Not a week goes by when I don't meet someone who remembers her and has something to say that's inspirational about her or about something she did for them. It gives me a good feeling every time.”
Urged by friends in the community to run for City Council, Alice tried a couple times before finally being elected in 1959. The campaign took place in the heat of the Civil Rights movement in the 1950s. Greg, who was 7 or 8 years old at the time, remembers the death threats and crosses burning in the yard of their home. On one occasion in the 1960s, someone tried to fire bomb the house.
His father, who was the only African-American physician in the area at the time, was called out of town at night. Death threats came over the telephone at all hours, often in the middle of the night.
“We were all afraid,” he said. “When things got really bad, people in the community would come and stay with us. The ladies would make coffee and the men would patrol the yard.”
The phone calls continued. Some said: “You are going to die, and your family is going to die.”
However , Alice received a lot of support from the white community although some were intimidated by employers warning them not to vote for her.
At the time, she became involved with politics, a few big industries drove the Kinston economy.
“If you wanted a job, you had to work for them,” Greg said. “They wanted to control your life. They would say, ‘If you want a job, vote the way I want to.’ If there was pressure from the employer not to vote, you didn’t vote.
“Mom saw early on that education is the key for the disenfranchised. Sometimes she would teach clandestine classes in the middle of the night. People would come to her and say, ‘I want to learn to read and write, but my boss can’t know.’ In the middle of the night, the phone would ring. Some one else she did not know was calling for a request for help. People would ask her to speak to their churches — after church service.”
Out of concern for disenfranchised people, she became involved in the voting rights issue and equal quality education for all.
Greg said black people who needed medical care were allowed to go to Parrott Hospital — through a certain door to the basement where they waited until everyone else was treated.
Alice knew it was not very likely for a black person to be elected to the City Council, but she thought, “If not now, when?” When she ran, Greg was around 10 years old.
Greg remembers the demonstrations in downtown Kinston.
“Certain stores would not hire blacks,” Greg said. “Some lunch counters wouldn’t serve blacks. The ones that would take your money made you get carry out. They would not let you sit down and eat.”
However, not all of the black community supported Alice. There were detractors who were comfortable where they were who said, “Don’t rock the boat.”
Although forced to live in a segregated society where they were told “you will not live on this side of the street” or “you will not shop in this store,” some in the black community realized they had it better than most and wanted to hold on to what they were allowed to have.
But Alice realized early on if she was going to live in Kinston, she was going to make it the best place it could be. She was elected to only one term on the City Council, she ran for Lenoir County commissioner but was not elected.
The ground had already been broken, however as African-American students started attending the formerly all-white Grainger High School.
“You could say it was a turning point, but there was a lot of resistance by the school board and the community — a lot of threats,” Greg said. “We were told we were not wanted. I had teachers who would not speak to me.
“It must have been rougher on Barbara. She was quiet, artistic and very bright. At the age we were, girls did not get close like later in life. It was like your best friend could be you worst enemy.”
But things were changing. African-Americans were starting to come out from under the oppression. With each new breakthrough, they realized that by working together they could do things they could not have done previously by themselves.
His mother had been instrumental in litigation to obtain equal education rights for everybody in the community. She pointed out it was not economically feasible to have two school systems.
“When I was a small child, radio was a big influence,” Greg said. “You believed everything the disembodied voice told you. It had a big impact on us. I was at Adkin High School when President John Kennedy was shot. They closed school. I went home and saw on television what had occurred just a few minutes earlier.
“People could no longer be kept in the dark. Back in the 1940s (before television), if you worked on a farm , the employer had total control of your life. The thing about control is it works better when you have people in isolation. That’s why slavery was successful. They separated people with common bonds — like families and kingdoms.”
The black community discovered the power there is in unity. On television, they saw that people could read and write and not be chastised for it. They saw on television that people could get all kinds of jobs. Public officials were being elected because of the vote.
The African-American in the 1960s had come a long way from having to write codes into spiritual songs, although in Kinston there was still resistance.
“There was always resistance in Kinston,” Greg said. “There is still more that needs to be done.”
Greg described his mother as a soft-spoken lady, even-tempered and dignified. She knew how to voice her concerns in a way that things got done. A true diplomat, she reached out to the elderly and to the youth.
The Hannibal house and yard were open to everybody. Some who did not have access to the books would come to see the books lining the walls of the Hannibal home.
Greg said his mother had a thirst for knowledge, reading anything she could get her hands on. Still, she believed that the best knowledge you can get comes straight from the minds of others. She was a great listener.
“She knew change would most likely come from the elderly and the youths,” said Greg. “If you can change an elderly person’s outlook on life, that's a major accomplishment. It’s the same with youth. Someone in the middle is comfortable with life, has the ‘tiger by the tail.’ Resistance always came from the middle. You never want to think that your dad or your mom taught you anything that was not right.
“When she talked to you, you had the feeling she was talking to YOU,” said Greg. “She looked people in the eye. Many other supporters were the only ones she listened to when they felt their ideas were not worth listening to.
“It was very interesting growing up. You couldn’t grow up in that house without obtaining dignity, self-resilience and self-worth. She had conviction that if you believe in something, pursue it. You may not always succeed, but you will never fail.”
If someone came to his mother with an idea for a new business, she would not just say,
“‘That’s a good idea.’ she would say,” he said. “That's such a good idea I’ll partner with you.”
Greg said his mother stayed involved with several businesses.
Alice Hannibal was always breaking new ground. She worked with adult education before it became fashionable.
She fought hard for the African-American community to have a good library branch and good reading materials available. The old library branch was an old house on Independence Street that was in very bad condition. A new one was built on Caswell Street.
When she advocated recreation facilities for the children, they were built with lighting so the youths could play at night.
“If anybody was ahead of their time, it was she,” Greg said of his mother. “She pioneered adult education and community outreach of youth. She even recycled. She saved everything. She made coffee tables with grape fruit juice cans. She braided rugs from nylon stockings. She was making fire logs out of newspapers in the 1950’s, and now they’re writing it up in Better Homes and Gardens like it’s something new. ‘Don’t throw that away,’ she would tell us kids. ‘We’ll find a use for it.’
“She was always looking for something positive. I doubt if she wasted one hour of her entire life worrying about what people thought of her.”
Alice also stuck with the old ways that worked. She made lye soap in the yard in a big tub with wood ashes from the fireplace and rendered fat.
“She would make soap to use around the house, and we’d say ‘Mom, use Palmolive!’ She’d say, “This is better for you,’” he said. “Growing up in the ‘50s and ‘60s with mass communication and television, you have thousands of internationally famous people to choose from to be your heroes. I had only two — my mother and father. Knowing what she had to go through and what she had to give to herself to enable others to bring themselves forth, that's a hero to me.”
Greg said his father, Dr. John J. Hannibal, Sr., who is now retired from practice, totally supported his mother in his commitment.
“She was going into the face of the beast, putting her life on the line in many cases,” he said. “It takes a special person to understand the importance of what she was doing.”
