Rebellion at Lamar

It was called the Devil's Woodyard in the 18th century, when brawling lumberjacks settled there. Now called Lamar, the bleak little tobacco town of 1,350 in eastern South Carolina was convulsed last week in another kind of violence, an atavistic rebellion against the influx of black children to a predominantly white school.

As three buses carrying 32 black pupils pulled up in front of Lamar High School, a sullen group of 125 white men and women suddenly went wild. The 75 surprised state troopers on hand tried desperately to protect the children, as screaming whites began smashing the bus windows with ax handles, bricks, heavy chains and sharpened screwdrivers. They repeatedly tried to get at the youngsters who were cowering inside. The student driver of one bus, Henry Alford, 18, struggled to hold the door closed. "Most of the kids were girls, and they were scared and crying," Alford said. "The boys made the girls get down on the floor and the boys stood in a circle around them to protect them from the glass." Several children were cut.

Rocks and Fists. Some troopers tried to drive the mob back with tear gas while other cops rescued the trapped children. As the children ran across the lawn, whites threw rocks at them, and then assailed the troopers. Then the attackers turned their fury on the buses, overturning two of them and smashing all the windows.

Amazingly, there were no serious injuries. The school was closed. By week's end 29 white men had been arrested on state riot charges. Among them was Jeryl Best, a local anti-integration leader who, officials said, had fired up the crowd before the outbreak.

The defendants became instant heroes to many of their white neighbors. As they marched out of jail on bail, one woman said: "Any man who spent a night in jail for doing what is right got a right to be proud today." Best's followers, mostly poorer whites in work clothes, complained that the school board had rigged its desegregation plan to fall most heavily on them, while middle-class whites would be little affected.

There was a good chance that violence could have been avoided. Many other South Carolina communities have integrated peacefully. Responsible groups in Darlington County, where Lamar is situated, had worked actively for community acceptance of integration. But their efforts were undercut by officials seeking gain from racial turmoil. Most blatant was Congressman Albert Watson, a candidate for the Republican nomination for Governor. Democratic Governor Robert McNair went on television Jan. 27 and told South Carolinians that "we've run out of courts, and we've run out of time, and we adjust to new circumstances." Watson gleefully accused the Governor of "surrender." Watson was the only major politician to accept an invitation to address Jeryl Best's Darlington County Freedom-of-Choice Council on Feb. 22. The Congressman urged his listeners to "stand up and be counted."

Warnings. In the wake of the riot, state and federal officials tried to place responsibility on each other. Both levels might have acted more vigorously in heading off the potentially lethal spasm. The Federal Government had warnings of trouble the previous day; McNair even called Attorney General John Mitchell about Lamar's volatility.

The issue revolved around a federal court order, yet only five federal marshals were present. They stood by while the mob attacked the children. But maintenance of order is primarily a state responsibility. McNair did not ask Mitchell for additional marshals or federal troops and failed to mobilize the National Guard.

After the fact, the response by federal and state officials was vigorous. The White House and Spiro Agnew deplored the incident and vowed that violence would not be allowed to impede desegregation. The FBI moved in to investigate, while state authorities seem bent on prompt prosecution. Even Albert Watson said the rebellion at Lamar should not have happened.

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