Letter from a Jackson Jail: John Moody (1931-2018)
John Moody died on Friday, December 14. He was a student at Howard University when he joined the Freedom Rides, one of six Howard students to do so. He was already a veteran of civil disobedience (AKA #GoodTrouble), as a member of the Nonviolent Action Group (NAG), which staged protests and sit-ins in and around Washington, DC. He rode on the second bus into Jackson, Mississippi, on May 24, 1961.
Three days later Moody wrote a letter to his parents from the county jail in Jackson. It’s a beautiful letter of hope and determination and amazement: “It seems almost unbelievable that I could actually be in Mississippi.”
Moody knew the risks of being there, and also knew the importance of taking that risk. “People feared Mississippi because they feared what would happen. They feared the mobs. We feared too — at least I did. But we came anyway — that is the important thing.”
He came anyway because he had studied Gandhi and Thoreau, and he understood the opportunity Mississippi had given the Riders by arresting them: “We want to fill these jails to the rafters until the world can see and the people of Mississippi can see that it is much better to be behind bars for a cause than to be imprisoned mentally by a system so degrading as segregation.
Even in his closing, Moody stays on message: send more Riders to Jackson!
“Tell Rev. Lewis, tell the church, tell it everywhere; & if the listeners can afford the time, tell them to come too.”
Tell it everywhere about the life of John Moody.
May 27, 1961
Dear Mother & Dad:
I suppose you have been reading the papers and you know what I am doing in Jackson, Mississippi. It seems almost unbelievable that I could actually be in Mississippi.
The trial was yesterday. Our lawyers were beautiful in their every word and action. They built up such a beautiful case that I did not believe even a Mississippi judge could do anything except acquit us. They dropped two of the charges which they originally charged us with; they were “inciting to riot” and “failure to obey an officer.” The lawyers tried to prove that the Mississippi national guard had us under arrest from the time we passed the Alabama border.
They (Alabama National Guard) escorted us from Dr. Harris’ to the bus station and then to the Miss. line. The escort was composed of 35 squad cars of city policemen 36 motorcycles and truck loads of national guardsmen. We left Ala. in two buses. I was on the second.
The treatment down here has been so humane that we are suspicious of their every motive. We have finally decided that these people are so conscious of the negative reputation that the word “Mississippi” carries, that they want to do something to change that. They know that our message will reach the corners of the earth and they know that it is they, not us, who are on trial. They just don’t know that they cannot win.
I think that this trip will shake the foundations of their belief in themselves and eventually their whole myth will crumble.
We are now in cells, 6 to a cell the white fellows (2) being in a cell on the end. We sing and sing and make up new songs. We exercise (calisthenics) and pray and read appropriate verses from the Bible.
We almost has a little trouble this morning. One of the officers here cursed C. T. Vivian, who is a minister from Nashville, Tenn. after he asked him to explain an order to “behave.” Imagine, telling grown people to behave — what does that mean? Does it mean not to talk loudly, not to sing or not to count as we do calisthenics?
These people actually believe that we are seeking publicity, that we are backed by NAACP & CORE! They do not believe that one can be deprived of freedom so long and that he can become so hungry for freedom and self expression that he would give his life or pay his own fare on a bus tour to Jackson, Mississippi. Before the “ride” these two were almost synonymous in the Black eyes of America. People feared Mississippi because they feared what would happen. They feared the mobs. We feared too — at least I did. But we came anyway — that is the important thing. This is one of the important things which I have been experiencing during the last year and what little I have done for the “movement” since then. I have grown inside. I am better for what I have done and the people with whom I have had the opportunity to associate my actions and my ideas. We find that we have much in common. Much of what we have in common is common because we have faced a common enemy from birth — segregation.
We must rid the world of this evil. We feel that we have Jim Crow on the ropes and if it takes a death to face him finally to the ground, then that death is well spent. I hope that will not be necessary, but I am reminded of Mohandas Ghandi [sic] and H. Thoreau, our own American who fought evil with the philosophy of non-violence as his weapon.
He was thrown in jail and was visited by his friend, Emerson. Emerson asked, “What are you doing? Why are you in jail?” Thoreau’s answer was simply, “Why are you outside.” This, I feel, is our message to the outside world. We want to fill these jails to the rafters until the world can see and the people of Mississippi can see that it is much better to be behind bars for a cause than to be imprisoned mentally by a system so degrading as segregation.
Say hello to everyone. I am fine and will be as far as I can see. If anyone asks, tell them that being in jail in Miss. is not the “hell” I thought it would be. I am praying that it remains this way, but if it doesn’t, we are prepared for that too.
Tell Rev. Lewis, tell the church, tell it everywhere; & if the listeners can afford the time, tell them to come too.
More later.Love,
your son.
Moody’s letter is now part of the collection of the National Museum of African American History and Culture.
