Texas slaves
greeted Empancipation Day with joy; modern reactions are
more complex.
No holiday
inspired more celebration in the beginning; none inspires
more ambivalence today. The first Juneteenth was the
long-awaited day of Jubilee, the realization of freedom
that generations of slaves had dreamed of. More recently,
Juneteenth has become an official holiday in Texas, a
state that once sanctioned human bondage. But more and
more, Texas blacks are divided over whether June 19 is a
day to celebrate or to ignore.
When Union major general Gordon Granger
arrived in Galveston on June 19, 1865--a full two and a
half years after Abraham Lincoln's Emancipation
Proclamation--he announced that all slaves in the
rebellious state of Texas were from the moment free.
Lincoln's wartime edict had not had much practical effect
in the Confederacy, but Galveston's black population
immediately recognized Granger's declaration as the real
thing. As the news spread throughout the city, slaves
dropped whatever they were doing and left to celebrate
the first Juneteenth. So widespread was the observance,
reported a Galveston newspaper, that "there was a
scarcity of black physique, giving the streets quite the
appearance of a northern city."
The scene was often repeated as federal
troops moved into East Texas. Descendants of freemen
later recalled that the Jubilee was marked by solemn
services of thanksgiving; others told of more exuberant
festivities. In Anderson County, for example, freedmen
drilled holes in trees, filled them with gunpowder, and
lit the fuses to improvise spectacular fireworks.
No one knows when the day came to be called
Juneteenth, but black newspapers didn't use the term
before the 1920's. The day became an unofficial holiday
on which blacks were excused from work. Other states had
their own emancipation celebrations, often depending upon
when local plantations received the liberating
news--Florida's holiday is May 20, Mississippi's, May
8--but nowhere was emancipation celebrated with as much
enthusiasm as in Texas. In East Texas in particular,
Juneteenth became the black Fourth of July and was
commemorated in similar ways, with family homecomings and
covered-dish suppers under shady trees, baseball games
between rival towns, speeches, and readings from historic
documents. Blacks who emigrated from Texas took
Juneteenth with them; it is observed in Oklahoma and
Arkansas and as far away as Milwaukee and San Francisco.
As the memory of slavery receded,
Juneteenth celebrations took on a new and sadder meaning.
The holiday was an emancipation not from slavery but from
the barriers of segregation, yet it lasted only one day
each year. On Juneteenth the all-white city governments
in Dallas, Fort Worth, San Antonio, and Houston allowed
blacks to have access to whites-only parks and zoos. In
1953, after a group of black ministers in Fort Worth
protested the obvious inequity, the official Juneteenth
observations in that city went into a decline, then
stopped altogether in 1961; they were not revived until
1974.
In the fifties and sixties, as the
civil rights movement gained strength, Juneteenth became
a holiday primarily observed by rural blacks. In the
cities it was too strongly associated with segregation
and the stereotypes of subjugation. (Whites were always
condescending toward Juneteenth: The Handbook of
Texas, a leading reference work published in 1952,
describes celebrants as spending the day "picnicking
and dancing.")
Juneteenth has enjoyed something of a
resurgence in the eighties as it continues to be a mirror
for black social and political attitudes. In 1979 black
legislators, noting that Texas still observed Confederate
Heroes Day as a state holiday, successfully pushed
through a similar designation for Juneteenth--over the
protests of some prominent blacks. One, former Dallas
city council member Juanita Craft, later told the Dallas
Morning News, "Dancing up and down the streets,
drinking red soda water, eating watermelons. . . I grew
out of that."
Paradoxically, while official
Juneteenth fesivals in the cities offer more activities
than ever--including such fare as pageants, lectures at
colleges, arts celebrations, and the acclaimed Juneteenth
Blues Festival in Houston--the holiday is no longer the
universal celebration it once was. Among many younger
blacks, the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr., has
surpasssed Juneteenth in importance. The day of Jubilee
is far behind, and the vigorous achievements of the civil
rights movement have more immediate appeal than the
events that blacks' ancestors experienced so long ago. |