An Alabama Homecoming
By Jaye McCaghren
Installing art shouldn’t require a shotgun, but that rule doesn’t always apply in Alabama.
Located in my hometown of Danville, Alabama, the Jesse Owens Museum is dedicated to the story of Jesse Owens — four-time Olympic gold medal recipient and thwarter of Nazis — and it might never have been built if not for a few Alabamans standing up to racism.
Originally, a monument to Owens was to be erected outside the courthouse in Moulton, near Oakville, the sharecropper settlement where he was born. Protestors argued that the memorial shouldn’t be erected unless equal billing was given to notable confederate soldiers from the area. The county commission conceded and agreed not to erect a monument to Jesse Owens.
A backlash ensued. The local paper wrote that the act had made the whole county “look like a bunch of backwoods rednecks.” Eventually, a small stone monument was erected in the mid-1980s, where it was repeatedly vandalized. Local citizens guarded the marker with shotguns throughout the night to protect it.
After a while, the racist vandalism diminished, and the Alabama Cooperative Extension System, working with Auburn University, raised over $2 million to turn the area around the marker into a complex featuring a playground, racetrack, museum, a bronze statue of Owens, and other amenities. Jesse Owens’s grandson and widow, along with 10,000 people, participated in the opening and dedication of the Jesse Owens Museum in 1996.
Today, the Museum hosts community sporting events, educates hundreds of local schoolchildren, and boasts visitors from around the globe. The Jesse Owens Museum is the only museum dedicated to an individual African-American in northern Alabama, a state where over a quarter of the population are of African descent. I’m thankful for the few locals who stood up to racism with shotguns.
Growing up, I was repeatedly told about the history of the monument and the importance of the museum and complex. But the takeaway for me wasn’t only the legacy of Jesse Owens: how he rose from poverty to achieve greatness and his triumphant victory over the Nazis in the 1936 Berlin Olympics. What I learned was that, to facilitate positive change, you have to stand up, take action, and refuse to be complacent. Your time and place don’t change right or wrong.
In 2015, Philbrook Museum of Art acquired celebrity photographer Lusha Nelson’s photographic collection. This large grouping, consisting of over 5,000 prints, included duplicative portraits of a young pre-Olympic Jesse Owens. I immediately thought of my hometown and how important Jesse Owens is to that region.
I knew that the Jesse Owens Museum wouldn’t be able to afford these photographs and, given best practices, it was unlikely that we would even agree to loan them. To my surprise, everyone I approached at Philbrook thought that outright gifting these prints to Jesse Owens Museum was the right thing to do.
Philbrook Museum of Art lists relevance as one of our core values, stating, “We embrace our role as civic influencers to spark dialogue and promote positive change; increase access to diverse ideas, cultures, and perspectives, champion social justice; and be relevant and welcoming to all.” This gift, of not one but three prints, is a testament to Philbrook’s commitment to community and social justice.
On a personal note, I am very thankful to work for an institution that cares about their employees, their ideas, and being altruistic. Living and working in Tulsa, I never thought that I would be able to give back to the community that helped raise me. Philbrook made that possible for me. My parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, all saw me in the local newspaper. I just couldn’t be more proud or thankful. I’m glad I didn’t need a shotgun to make it happen.
Jaye McCaghren is the Collections Manager at Philbrook Museum of Art.
