Freedom Wars in Georgia

The paddy wagons stopped in the narrow Freedom Alley that runs behind the Albany, Georgia, jail. One of the cops ran ahead and unlocked the heavy metal door, and the others dragged us out and across the gravelly court and through the door into the walkway of the Negro cellblock. We had two cops apiece—one for each heel, and they were big, white, and had a knack for the obscene gesture, which is about all you can say for Albany cops. We called out news of the demonstration to Negro prisoners in the cells, and they stared and shouted encouragement, and some were merry and some inscrutable and silent. The floor was dusty beneath us—dank, running, paper-strewn like the walls and ceiling and air. Away at the end of the walkway a corridor ...