CHAPTER FOUR CLAUDE PEPPER
CHAPTER
FOUR
Claude Pepper
When Cora heard from Uncle Drew that Senator Pepper would be down from Washington DC touring his constituency and had agreed to meet with her, Cora was ecstatic.
While Governor Caldwell was a known bigot, Senator Pepper was maligned in the press because he was not.
Nicknamed Red Pepper for his support of the egalitarian ideas of Communism, Cora hoped for a more sympathetic ear, and with President Truman demanding real change after commissioning his To Secure These Rights race report, she felt the timing couldn’t have been better.
The meeting he’d agreed to was about Negro access to GI benefits, but the meeting she intended to have with him would be about getting justice for Lee.
With every day that passed without him waking or even moving, a little crumb of hope flaked away.
She had this idea that if those men could be arrested, sentenced, tried and jailed, she would whisper it in his ear and the news of justice served would pull him back to her.
She sat beside Uncle Drew in his wide gray Buick dangling her hand out of the window for air.
A sky streaked with clouds promised rain, but not quite yet.
When they arrived, they gave Cora’s name to the receptionist, who told them the senator would come out and meet them in the garden.
She led them through the building and out the back to where the beautifully manicured grounds spilled over with roses.
They stood alone admiring the blooms, waiting. Uncle Drew leaned close and said, under his breath, ‘Do you think we’re outside because he doesn’t have a spare closet for us?’
Cora rolled her eyes and looked away from him. ‘Let’s just enjoy the fresh air.’ She wanted this to be a good meeting, and flooding her mind with suspected slights wouldn’t be helpful. It was a beautiful garden. She would focus on that.
Not ten minutes later the senator came striding out across the lawn toward them. ‘Mrs Crane,’ he said, extending his hand. ‘I’m Senator Pepper.’
She smiled and side-eyed Uncle Drew. ‘Thank you for meeting us. You have a wonderful garden here.’
‘Mr Crane, pleasure to meet you,’ he said, shaking Uncle Drew’s hand.
‘Actually, it’s Drew Brooks. Friend and advisor.’
He looked expectantly at Cora. ‘So, where’s your husband?’
‘I’m afraid he couldn’t make it today.’ He’d left two weeks ago, selling everything he had and a few things he didn’t, like Benny’s bed and dresser, to buy passage to Britain on the first freighter he could get.
The senator’s face pulled into a frown. ‘But he’s the veteran.’
‘He hoped I would speak for both of us,’ she said, sending a nervous glance to Uncle Drew.
‘Well, now,’ he said, adjusting his glasses, ‘this is a disappointment.’
‘He’s not much of a talker,’ Uncle Drew said, coming to her aid, ‘more of a doer. But his plight is Cora’s plight. The injustice against him is hers to bear too. That’s why he wanted her to speak for him.’
Behind the senator a squat suited man hurried toward them. He held a large camera in both hands.
Cora spoke quickly, fearing the senator was about to be pulled away. ‘Sir, we’ve come to ask you to right a wrong. The GI bill isn’t the only thing failing patriotic veterans. There can be no true justice when Negros in this state are not protected by the—’
He held up a hand cutting her off, his face serious, his voice appeasing. ‘I know why you’re here.’
‘Actually, sir, there is a case I’d like you to consider,’ she said. ‘A veteran, Lee Peters, was attacked—’
The stout man reached the senator’s side.
‘There you are, Charlie. Good,’ Pepper said.
‘Senator Pepper,’ Uncle Drew said, ‘the GI bill, and indeed the laws of this country, are not being applied equally. By allowing local, historically racist players to take on all authority over federal mandates, Washington has allowed—’
Again, the senator held up his hand for silence. ‘I had expected your husband, Mrs Crane, considering we didn’t pass the bill for wives and friends.’ He nodded to Uncle Drew. ‘But as I have only you, you will have to do.’
Cora glanced at Uncle Drew, her confusion mirrored in his eyes.
Pepper turned to the man with the camera. ‘Where do you want us?’
The photographer stepped forward. ‘If you could stand closer.’ He pulled Cora’s arm, positioning her beside Pepper.
‘Right here.’ Then he waved Uncle Drew nearer with an impatient hand gesture.
‘And you as well.’ He looked through the viewfinder of his camera.
‘Another step in.’ He made an adjustment on his lens.
‘And another.’ He snapped the shot. ‘One more. Smile this time.’
Cora’s mouth twisted in an awkward grimace that might have been mistaken for a smile and the photographer’s camera clicked.
‘Mrs Crane,’ Senator Pepper said, stepping away from them, ‘I understand your concerns. America is a great nation, and we need to be a great nation for everybody.’ He turned to the photographer. ‘Get a shot of me talking to them.’ He stood more erect and gestured with his right hand as he spoke.
Cora felt blood coloring her face and frustration coiling in her belly.
‘The dignity of a nation is only as great as the dignity of the least of its people. And a good program that was meant to afford opportunities to Americans of every race is falling short.’
She tried to ignore the photographer circling around them as he spoke.
‘Rest assured that I am very interested in finding a solution to the race problem. I advise you to have patience and to trust in the democratic process.’ He clasped Cora’s hand, turned to the camera and smiled. Then he shook Uncle Drew’s hand, angling him to the camera.
‘Could you step back for this shot?’ the photographer said to Cora, shooing her away. She wanted to rip the camera out of his hands and dash it to the ground.
‘This democracy is failing us,’ she said to his smiling profile, her voice inching higher and growing louder.
‘I agree that America needs a truer democracy, like the Soviet Union,’ he said. ‘A nation that has recognized the dignity of all people, and where discrimination against anybody on account of race is a crime. They’re in fundamental sympathy with the progress of mankind.’
‘You’re talking about the Communists,’ Cora said, doubting anyone who talked like that would have the political clout to help. ‘People call them un-American.’ She felt weighed down by the pointlessness of coming to him for help.
‘Nowhere in the world is there so little friction between minority and majority groups. We would do well to imitate and emulate.’
‘Maybe, Senator, but this is America,’ Uncle Drew said, in a slow, calm voice that warned Cora to keep herself under control. ‘We need to work with what we’ve got.’
The camera clicked twice, and the photographer gave the senator a thumbs-up.
Pepper loosened his tie and let his frame droop into a relaxed slouch.
‘Look, there’s no appetite in Congress to revisit racial legislation right now.
’ A brown-suited aide strode purposefully toward them.
‘But I take note of your grievances, and if I secure the democratic nomination for president and the presidency in November, I will make redressing this a priority of my administration.’
‘Wait – you’re running for president?’
‘I haven’t announced it yet, but let’s just say it’s looking likely.’
The aide leaned in close to the senator and said in a low voice, ‘Mr Henderson’s here.’
Pepper straightened. ‘Thank you both for coming by. My regards to your husband.’
‘But—’ Cora said as he turned from her, headed back inside. He was three strides away when she heard him tell the aide, ‘Now, that only goes in the colored press. Nothing mainstream.’
Uncle Drew raised his eyebrows to her. ‘No closet this time,’ he said. ‘Just a real pretty photo booth.’