Protests bring 'moment of hope' after decades of racial justice rallies in Pittsburgh, region

News archives in Southwestern Pennsylvania detail a history of encounters between black men and youths and white police officers.

Jonny Gammage, Charles Dixon, Michael Ellerbe, Jordan Miles, Leon Ford and Antwon Rose II are among the names that stand out. Four died in confrontations with police. Two survived, their lives changed dramatically.

Their encounters sparked conversations about race and policing and triggered protests in Pittsburgh and surrounding communities. Most often, the conversation quietly trailed off.

Something changed May 25 when the nation, nearing its third month of the coronavirus pandemic, was exposed to a video clip of a white Minneapolis policeman choking the life out of a black man, his knee on George Floyd’s neck for nearly 9 minutes as Floyd begged for mercy.

“It was a modern-day lynching,” Tim Stevens said.

The 75-year-old black activist has been involved in racial justice and police reform efforts in Pittsburgh for a quarter century. He said the Floyd video forced Americans to acknowledge the fear that has prompted black families for decades to remind their children of the potential dangers in encounters with police.

Protests and then riots quickly spread from Minneapolis to New York, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, St. Louis and other cities. Violence cropped up briefly in Pittsburgh, followed by day after day of protests led by a new generation of young black activists in the city and across the region, including in the Alle-Kiski Valley and Westmoreland County.

By one count, protests took place in 61 of Pennsylvania’s 67 counties.

Often, the demonstrations included as many or more white than black marchers.

Locally, for more than three weeks, residents black and white have gathered to rally, pray and protest in communities like Greensburg, Indiana, Irwin, Jeannette, Monroeville, Mt. Lebanon, Murrysville, New Kensington, O’Hara, Uniontown and Washington.

At each, the message has been clear: Black lives matter, justice matters.

Widespread response

Pittsburgh has always distinguished itself from other metropolitan areas by a relatively low level of racial violence, said Laurence Glasco, a University of Pittsburgh history professor who has taught and studied race relations in the region for decades.

“Going back to the anti-slavery riots of the 1850s, blacks were not attacked here. The governor let blacks arm and protect themselves. In other places, that wasn’t allowed,” Glasco said. “Going forward into the 20th century, the Hill (District) was one of the most racially diverse black communities in the country.”

When violence roiled black communities nationwide following the April 1968 assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., riots in the Hill District were directed at property, rather than people, Glasco said. A factor in that, he said, was K. Leroy Irvis, the state lawmaker and Hill District resident who became Pennsylvania’s only black speaker of the House.

Photos show National Guard troops sent in to quell riots armed and marching in formation through the Hill. Glasco said those images are misleading.

Irvis was friends with Pennsylvania Gov. Ray Shafer. Irvis “told him, ‘please don’t send those kids from out in the country in with live ammunition in their guns.’ He told him that could end badly, and the governor agreed,” Glasco said.

Unlike today’s protests, the 1968 uprisings were confined to city neighborhoods.

Glasco called the spread and continuity of the protests heartening. The thousands of young people in the streets suggest a political coming of age for a new generation, he said.

“That’s what I find the truly remarkable thing now — how many of these protests have taken place in Pittsburgh suburbs and in places like Punxsutawney, Carlisle and Beaver Falls. It is really quite remarkable,” Glasco said.

Carlotta Paige grew up in Greensburg in the 1950s and ’60s before heading to New York City for a career as an executive in city government. She returned home and co-founded the Westmoreland Diversity Coalition. She said blacks in small towns often were silent because their numbers were so small. They would go along to get along. It was about survival, she said.

That began to change when blacks and members of the faith community, black and white alike, linked up 25 years ago to stage a unity rally in Greensburg when the Ku Klux Klan announced plans to come to town.

“There’s always been support in small numbers from the white community, but now that is growing. It’s different now because people saw it for themselves (the Floyd video). People are opening their eyes. They want to show some kind of support. But the real question is what now?” she said.

Mitchel Nickols of Lower Burrell teaches graduate courses in public engagement and organizational leadership as an adjunct professor at Point Park University and consults with local public schools and police departments on diversity and implicit-bias issues.

“I’m loving the idea that blacks, brown and whites are speaking up on race,” Nickols said. “Folks of all colors are seeing this is a justice issue. It’s not about black people — this is about an injustice to all people.”

He said changes in policing must stress ethics and accountability. “There needs to be immediate visibility of any law enforcement bad actors. … In police academies, we need to have a session on history so police will understand the communities they serve,” said Nickols, who comes from a racially mixed family.

The conversation also needs to encompass the ingrained inequities in access to health, education and housing that have plagued minorities for decades, Nickols said.

‘Moment of hope’

Change cannot come soon enough for renowned forensic pathologist Dr. Cyril Wecht, who grew up in the Hill District.

Now 89, he remembers basketball games at the Irene Kaufmann Settlement House and being elected to student government at Fifth Avenue High School, where 65% of his classmates were black.

Wecht has worked with police and has testified countless times for law enforcement in court. He conducted inquests on every police-involved death during two stints as Allegheny County coroner and has testified as an expert witness for families in successful civil rights cases in police-involved deaths, many of which settled quietly long after the headlines faded.

There is a genuine need for prosecutors and district attorneys to move on police abuse, Wecht said.

“Most cops are good people. I deal with them all the time, state and local police. I know most of them are good, solid, decent people. But one, we need to increase eligibility requirements in terms of education and, two, conduct thorough background checks and extensive psychological testing. … And increase their pay and exercise disciplinary measures. You can’t keep overlooking things,” Wecht said.

Given the global reaction to the Floyd video, Stevens suspects that is no longer an option.

“We have created a storm of conversation across the globe at a level and speed which I’ve never seen,” said the longtime Pittsburgh activist. “Personally, because of my decades of commitment to civil rights and fighting police brutality, this has been emotional for me. I also feel it is a moment of hope that means we’re at a different place.”