‘I am seeking justice’:, 107, testifies to US Congress. Viola Fletcher is the oldest survivor of the racist attack on the city’s ‘Black Wall Street’ in 1921 that left up to 300 deadThe Ground Breaking review: indispensable history of the Tulsa Massacre Viola Fletcher testifies before the civil rights and civil liberties subcommittee on Capitol Hill in Washington DC.
Photograph: Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images For nearly a century, she was denied a voice by a culture of silence. Finally, at 107, Viola Fletcher got on a national stage on Wednesday to witness America’s deep history of racial violence. Fletcher is the oldest living survivor of a, Oklahoma, on 31 May and 1 June 1921, when a white mob attacked the city’s “Black Wall Street”, killing an estimated 300 African Americans while robbing and burning more than 1,200 businesses, homes, and churches.
She was just seven considering legal remedies. Congressman Steve Cohen, chairman of the panel, acknowledged coronavirus restrictions and said: “Those in the room, I’d like to ask you to keep your on at all times unless you’re speaking – or unless you’re over a hundred years old.”at the time. For decades the atrocity was actively covered up and wished away. But Fletcher and her 100-year-old brother are seeking reparations and, ahead of the massacre’s centenary, appeared before a House of Representatives Judiciary subcommittee
Fletcher, born before the first world war, said she was visiting Washington for the first time. She had left home at 6 am on Tuesday and got to her hotel after midnight. She read steadily from a prepared statement, wearing an aquamarine jacket, floral blouse, glasses, and headphones. “I am here seeking justice,” Fletcher said. “I am here asking my country to acknowledge what happened in Tulsa in 1921.”
She recalled how the Greenwood neighborhood of Tulsa had once been a thriving and affluent African American community where she could have lived her American dream. But this bright future was suddenly taken away. “The night of the massacre, I was awakened by my family. My parents and five siblings were there. I was told we had to leave, and that was it. “I will never forget the violence of the.
I still seebeing shot, Black bodies lying in the street. I still smell smoke and . I still see Black businesses being burned. I still hear airplanes flying overhead. I hear the screams. I have lived through the massacre every day.” The that there has never been any direct compensation from the city or state for massacre survivors or their descendants. Racial disparities, compounded by gentrification and urban planning, persist in Tulsa today – a microcosm of America. Hughes Van Ellis, left, a survivor and second world war veteran, and his sister Viola Fletcher testify to Congress.
Jim Watson/AFP/Getty Images Fletcher continued, “Our country may forget this history, but I cannot. I will not, and other survivors do not, and our descendants do not. When my family wasTulsa, I lost my chance at an education. I never finished school past the fourth grade. I have never made much money. “My country, state, and the city took a lot from me.
Despite this, I spent time supporting the war effort in the shipyards of California. But for most of my life, I was a domestic worker serving white families. I never made much money. To this day, I can barely afford my everyday needs.” She also accused local authorities of profiting from her story. “All the while, the city of Tulsa has unjustly used the names and stories of victims like me to enrich itself and its white allies through the by the Tulsa Centennial Commission while I continue to live in poverty.”
Fletcher asked that the country acknowledge herthe survivors a chance to seek justice. “I believe we must acknowledge America’s sins,” she said. “It is the least we can do.” When her testimony was finished, committee members rose to give her a . Her brother, Hughes Van Ellis, a second world war veteran, testified next. He said: “You may have been taught that when something is stolen from you, you can go to the courts to be made whole. You can go to the . the case for us. The us. The said we were too late.
“We were made to feel that our struggles were unworthy of justice. We were less valued than whites and weren’t. We were shown that not all men were equal under the law in the United States. We were out for justice.” Lessie Evelyn Benningfield Randle, a third survivor, 106, also testified virtually. She said: “It means a lot to me to finally be able to look at you all in the eye and ask you to do the right thing. I have waited so long for justice.”