Even
social scientists and historians who
have done book-length studies of towns
that keep out whites have often missed
or ignored that aspect of the community.
Probably the largest sundown area
in the United States is the Ozark
Plateau, and in a 1936 study of the
region, sociologist Walter Cralle
did observe that African Americans
had lived there and now did not: "Whereas
in 1860 every border county ... had
Negro populations ranging from 6%
to 15% of the total, the 1930 census
finds only Cole County (7.2%) with
more than 5% of its population Negro."
Cralle went on to note, "Ten
Ozarks counties report no Negroes
whatever, and four additional counties
have only one." He then essayed
no explanation! These astounding population
declines don't seem to be a problem
worth exploring. At least he noticed;
anthropologists Carl Withers and Art
Gallaher were oblivious. Withers published
his book-length study of a Missouri
Ozarks community, Wheatland, in 1940
as Plainville USA. Gallaher then studied
the same town and wrote up his results
as Plainville Fifteen Years Later.
"Plainville" is supposed
to be a typical town, so we do not
need to know its name or location
or even state. Withers presented as
his entire discussion of race this
footnote: "A very few Southern
immigrants brought their slaves. However,
no Negroes live now in the county."
No reader would infer from that note
that Hickory County, Missouri, was
a sundown county — but it was.
Gallaher never mentioned race at all
in his book or in his reflection on
his and Withers's works, "Plainville:
The Twice-Studied Town."
Social
scientists studying Illinois towns
did no better. During the Depression,
Malcolm Brown and John Webb wrote
Seven Stranded Coal Towns, a report
for the federal government. All seven
were sundown towns in Southern Illinois
— most still are — yet
the authors never mention that fact.
In 1986, anthropologist John Coggeshall
wrote about thirteen Southern Illinois
communities; most were probably sundown
towns when he wrote; I have confirmed
at least five. Yet he never mentions
the topic. Two full-length books on
a Chicago suburb, Park Forest, further
illustrate the blind spot. William
H. Whyte Jr.'s The Organization Man
came out in 1956 and established a
new phrase in our language. Most of
its last chapters treat where this
"organization man" and his
family live — the sundown suburb.
Whyte devoted just one paragraph to
Park Forest's sundown nature:
Several
years ago there was an acrid controversy
over the possible admission of Negroes.
It threatened to be deeply divisive
— for a small group, admission
of Negroes would be fulfillment of
personal social ideals; for another,
many of whom had just left Chicago
wards which had been "taken over,"
it was the return of a threat left
behind. But the people who were perhaps
most sorely vexed were the moderates.
Most of them were against admission
too, but though no Negroes ever did
move in, the damage was done. The
issue had been brought up, and the
sheer fact that one had to talk about
it made it impossible to maintain
unblemished the ideal egalitarianism
so cherished. [Malcolm Brown and John
Webb (WPA), Seven Stranded Coal Towns
(DC: GPO, 1941), xx; John Coggeshall,
"Carbon-Copy Towns? The Regionalization
of Ethnic Folklife in Southern Illinois's
Egypt," in Barbara Allen and
Thomas J. Schlereth, eds., Sense of
Place (Lexington: UP of Kentucky,
1990), 103-119; William H. Whyte Jr.,
The Organization Man (NY: Simon &
Schuster, 1956), 311.]
Whyte
might have spent more than one paragraph
on the matter. After all, Park Forest
was operating illegally; in 1917 the
Supreme Court had invalidated laws
keeping African Americans out and
in 1948 had made restrictive covenants
unenforceable. Moreover, since Whyte
focussed on managers' values as expressed
by their lifestyle and vice versa,
surely the fact that every manager
he studied chose to live in a sundown
suburb is significant. What might
that choice say about their readiness
to hire African Americans to white
collar (or even blue collar) positions
in their businesses? But at least
Whyte did mention that the suburbs
excluded African Americans, that most
whites were united against letting
them in, and that discussing the matter
was upsetting.
Almost half a century later, Gregory Randall, a former native of Park Forest, wrote an entire monograph, America's Original GI Town: Park Forest, Illinois (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 2000), on the town. Although he laments Whyte's death as his book was in galleys and clearly was conversant with Whyte's findings, Randall claims not to know for sure what Whyte knew for sure: that Park Forest was all-white by design. Interestingly, Randall admits that the people who ran Park Forest refused to rent to single people until 1956 — but he is unwilling to concede that the absence of African Americans was equally purposeful, decades after Whyte showed it to be. By the time he wrote, Park Forest had desegregated successfully, but Randall cannot tell that story, having never let on that it had been sundown. Randall also supplies an extensive treatment of "the Greens" — Greenbelt, Maryland, just northeast of Washington, DC; Greenhills, Ohio, near Cincinnati; and Greendale, Wisconsin, southwest of Milwaukee, three planned towns built by the FDR administration — yet never mentions that all three were founded as sundown towns. In Toward New Towns for America (Boston: MIT Press, 1966), C. S. Stein similarly treats Radburn, New Jersey, the Greens, and other planned towns, all sundown towns, without ever mentioning race. This takes some doing; about Radburn, for example, Stein details the first residents' occupations, religious denominations, educational backgrounds, and incomes, without once mentioning that all were white. Authors of fiction sometimes ignore sundown policies too. Laura Furman's novel titled Tuxedo Park, for example, (NY: Simon & Schuster, 1986), a domestic drama set in the sundown suburb of that name in New York, mentions the town's exclusivity, but not its racial and religious exclusivity.
These omissions continue today. Authors of most of the entries on sundown towns in The Handbook of Texas Online omit both the all-white nature of their communities and its intentionality. So do most authors of entries on sundown suburbs in the Chicago Encyclopedia. Even the entry on Berwyn, notorious for its active Ku Klux Klan chapter and its participation in the 1951 Cicero race riot, never mentions race. Berwyn's racial policies have drawn repeated attention from the national press, as recently as the 1990s. Nevertheless, author Elizabeth Patterson never hints at Berwyn's intimidating reputation on racial matters.
Carter, Lewis James. Negro Migrant Labor in Pennsylvania 1916-30. Penn. State U., Dissertation, 1936.
Carter’s dissertation is a description of the conditions of labor for African Americans who migrated northward between 1910 and 1930. His research focuses primarily on census reports on population, industry, and employment data. While Carter briefly notes that many African Americans were forced to accept the more strenuous and less skilled jobs, he does not thoroughly address why they were so heavily concentrated in the most dangerous, lowest paid, and least desirable industries and occupations. He also notes that migration went overwhelmingly to Pittsburg and Philadelphia, yet fails to address the possibility that restrictions may have played a role. By leaving out these important social analyses, Carter further imbeds stereotypes and perceptions of race relations that obscure the phenomenon of sundown towns and other exclusionary policies.
|