Traveling While Black

Every year when we were out of school for the summer my parents drove us, in our big Ford Station wagon, from our home in New Jersey to visit my grandmother in North Carolina. We could hardly sleep the night before because we were so excited. When we were kids, my brother and I didn’t know that we were making a trip that hundreds of African American families made every year from their homes in the northern United States to relatives in the South. We were a part of a much bigger and longer history. We were the children whose parents were part of one of the largest migrations in the history of the country—the children of the Great Migration.

Beginning in the early years of the 20th century as many as six million African Americans moved from the rural South to the urban North in search of opportunity and good jobs. But mostly they wanted to get away from laws and customs that made discrimination against Black people legal and acceptable. My father, who was born in Flint, Michigan, the place where the Watsons moved, was drafted into the army in 1941, during World War II. When he was stationed at Fort Bragg, he met my mother in the nearby town Fayetteville, North Carolina. My mother grew up in Fayetteville, attending segregated schools, and a segregated college. She majored in education and became a school teacher. After the war my parents married and moved to New Jersey where my mother earned a teaching position and my father a job as a newspaper photographer. They were a part of the Great Migration. After they decided to leave the South and move to New Jersey, they began making an annual trek back home to North Carolina.

My brother and I were unaware of the dangers that Black families faced when traveling. Our parents wanted to shield us from that knowledge.

In the 1960s and earlier, African Americans did not have the same civil rights as people who had white skin. They could not eat in most restaurants, stay in most hotels or even use the bath rooms in gas stations. Everything from water fountains to phone booths, to buses, trains, and schools kept Black and white people apart. “Colored Only” or “Whites Only” signs existed everywhere in the South and failure to abide by segregation laws could be very dangerous. But some segregation existed in the North as well—by custom and usually without signs.

Communities throughout the country—called sundown towns—kept Black people out entirely or required that they leave town by sundown. When traveling, Black families never knew where they would be welcome or where they would be safe. So, they planned every detail of a trip very carefully, deciding where to stop or, like the Watsons, driving straight through.

Pushing back against this injustice, some African Americans created special travel guide books that identified places of welcome for Black motorists. Black families kept a copy of The Negro Motorist Green Book or Travelguide, or Grayson’s Guide in their glove compartments to help them find restaurants, hotels, guest houses, drug stores, even hair dressers along their travel routes. Black businesses all over the country sprang up to serve these travelers. One traveler called these guides, “the Bible of the Negro traveler.” In 1964 President Johnson finally signed legislation that ensured that all public accommodations like hotels, restaurants and swimming pools were open to all Americans. This did not mean that everyone immediately was treated equally, but it was a good start. The 1960s were a volatile time in our nation’s history and the ordinary African American families willing to challenge discrimination with the simple act of traveling showed great courage and determination.

About the Author

Gretchen Sorin is the director of the Cooperstown Graduate Program at SUNY Oneonta and the author of Driving While Black: African American Travel and the Road to Civil Rights.