They were eight days that tore at America’s conscience.
From May 2 to May 10, 1963, the nation bore witness as police in Birmingham, Ala., aimed high-powered hoses and sicced snarling dogs on black men, women and even children who wanted just one thing — to be treated the same as white Americans.
Led by an unapologetic racist named Eugene “Bull” Connor, Birmingham cops brazenly attacked protesters — and the television cameras covering the drama broadcasted their brutality to the rest of the country.
In the process, Connor became a living symbol of Southern bigotry and Birmingham became ground zero in the struggle for civil rights.
Two years earlier, when the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. first took aim at what was then the most segregated city in the U.S., Connor issued a warning.
“We are not going to stand for this in Birmingham,” he declared. “And if necessary we will fill the jail full and we don’t care whose toes we step on.”
Determined to desegregate Birmingham, King and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference had staged a series of business boycotts in April 1963 that resulted in numerous arrests.
Then, on May 2, King launched the final — and most controversial phase — of what they called Project C, the c standing for confrontation.
Figuring that even Connor wouldn’t cross this line, King sent children ranging in age from six to 18 marching through the streets for freedom.
But Connor would not be cowed. By nightfall, his cops had jailed 959 youthful protesters.
The next day, a thousand more — joined by brigades of grown-ups — hit the streets and this time Connor deployed the dogs.
“A Negro woman was bitten on the leg by a police dog,” United Press International reported. “A Negro man had four or five deep gashes on his leg where he had been bitten by a dog. A sobbing Negro woman said she had been kicked in the stomach by a policeman.”
The battle in Birmingham dominated the evening news and the sickening spectacle got big play in newspapers across the country and around the world.
Birmingham’s business leaders quickly realized they were in the midst of a public relations disaster.
Over the few next days, as Connor’s cops continued to crack down on the demonstrators, they quietly capitulated and negotiated a settlement that was stunning for its time.
They agreed to desegregate lunch counters and fitting rooms. They agreed to remove “Whites Only” signs from drinking fountains and restrooms. They agreed to hire more African-Americans.
King declared it a “moment of great victory.”
But Birmingham’s bitter mayor Art Hanes denounced the businessmen as “gutless traitors.” And Connor was apoplectic.
“I would have beaten King if those damn merchants… hadn’t given in,” Connor insisted.
There would be more violence in Birmingham. That September, four young black girls were killed when a bomb ripped apart the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church.
But Connor’s heavy-handed tactics in front of the national news media became a catalyst for social change — and helped pave the way for passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964.
csiemaszko@nydailynews.com
