Unrest in Virginia

"It seems inconceivable," said Attorney General William Rogers after a talk with President Eisenhower in Newport, R.I. last week, "that a state or community would rather close its public schools than comply with the decisions of the Supreme Court of the U.S."

Calmly and deliberately, with an air equally judicial, Virginia's Governor J. Lindsay Almond Jr. issued orders to close two public schools in Charlottesville, thus bringing to three the total shut down to avoid compliance with the decision of the Supreme Court of the U.S.

But gradually, in the areas where the schools were closed, and among the thoughtful people in the South generally, the full implications of the school closing began to soak in. Seen close up, the school closings turned out to be more than a defiance of integration, more than a legal stratagem. They turned out, in action, to be the Governor of a state seizing autocratic, political control of highly prized, independent local school systems. They turned out to be a real and forbidding threat to the competent education of youngsters in a sharply competitive national society. In short, they turned out to be the destruction of political and social monuments just as precious as the preservation of segregation.

The stirrings in three cities:

CHARLOTTESVILLE (pop. 30,300). Parents' groups rushed plans to set up temporary schooling in private homes, fraternal clubs and churches, but most churches flatly refused to lend their facilities for such a purpose, turned the segregationists away. As the private-school groups scrounged to find rooms elsewhere, 200 parents formed an organization to "pursue every legal means to keep public schools open." Led by such top local people as Dr. Ralph Cherry, dean of the University of Virginia's School of Education, and Elementary School Principal D. Mott Robertson, the 200 declared themselves above the integration debate, asked Almond to restore school control to the community. This week the committee hoped to round up 1,000 parents for a public meeting.

NORFOLK (pop. 314,600). After failing to stop a federal order to integrate 17 Negro pupils, the school board postponed the opening of the fall term to Sept. 29. hoped to get satisfaction in circuit court. If it fails again, the board will admit the Negroes, and Governor Almond, invoking his massive-resistance laws, will shut down Norfolk's six Negro and white senior and junior high schools. As in Charlottesville, segregationist parents busily devised plans to provide classrooms in private homes and churches. But even before the plans were well under way, the "Norfolk Committee for Public Schools," led by Unitarian Minister James Brewer and Realtor Irving Truitt, plumped publicly for "a strong and complete public-school system"--and if necessary, gradually integrated. The committee's key point: no city can pretend to attract or hold business, industry or federal installations, e.g., the Norfolk Naval Base, with public schools closed. Next move: to warn the Governor and the legislature "that the great majority of responsible Norfolk citizens strongly favor continuous operation of a free and efficient public-school system under local direction."

FRONT ROYAL (pop. 9,000). With the closing of the only high school in Warren County (TIME, Sept. 22). business slowed to a standstill. The P.T.A. canceled its fun festival. Students lazed around The Corner Shoppe across the street from the maple-shaded courthouse, drinking Cokes, leafing through girlie magazines, playing the pinball machine. Both management and labor at the nearby American Viscose Corp. plant spoke up hotly against the school shutdown. Key reason for the bitterness: the Negro population in Front Royal is so small (8% of the total population) that the town could work out its problems as well as any average Northern community. Editor Edward T. Bromfield Jr. of the weekly Warren Sentinel complained bitterly because Front Royal was the hapless victim of "the unyielding position of Southside Virginia." At a Parent Teacher Association meeting, 500 townspeople heard School Superintendent Quincy Casque urge that some way be found to run the public schools without state aid. He was seconded by A. G. McVay, manager of the Viscose plant. But just when the meeting was about to take action, Baptist Minister Carlton Blankenship offered up a fiery defense of Governor Almond: "If the Governor of Virginia as well as the U.S. were to call us to war, we would drop everything to rally to the cause. Since our Governor has asked us for patience and endurance in this time of trial to preserve our schools in the way which we all desire, I am in agreement with him."

Right then and there the steam went out of the meeting, but Front Royal parents had at least made it clear that there is a limit to patience and endurance.

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