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Photographer Framed Civil Rights Movement

By James Turner
Black College Wire

Photo credit: Southern Digest Photographer Chris McNair's photos are on display at the Southern University Museum of Art.

Chris McNair has photographed such prominent figures as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., shaking hands with supporters, and such historic moments as Alabama Gov. George Wallace's infamous stand against school integration at the University of Alabama. His work epitomizes the adage that a picture is worth a thousand words.

McNair's photography depicting the triumphs and defeats of the civil rights movement is on display at the Southern University Museum of Art. Both the Wallace and King images are pictured at the museum.

Wallace had made a campaign pledge to keep Alabama's public schools segregated. And he personally blocked the entrance to the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa after two black students, Vivian Malone and James Hood, attempted to enter. He did not leave until President John F. Kennedy federalized the Alabama National Guard.

"I was one of five black journalists on June 11, 1963, when Wallace blocked that door," said McNair, who is 79. "It was the hottest June 11 that I could remember."

While attending Tuskegee Institute in 1942, McNair took an interest in photography after meeting renowned black photographer Prentice Herman Polk.

"I went to college when I was 16. No, I wasn't a genius, just some folks thought I was, but I wasn't," McNair said. "I grew up in a little place called Fordyce, Ark. I don't know if I had a camera in my hands before I went to college, and this is the truth."

When McNair realized that his family was not able to support him while in college, he took it upon himself to work a full-time job.

In 1945, McNair decided to join the Army. He later returned to Tuskegee and finished with a bachelor's degree in agriculture, specializing in agronomy, the study of soil and plant sciences.

After graduation, McNair taught war veterans for the Mississippi State Department.

"I remember speaking to the superintendent of education and you know, I was trying to sound intelligent and correct," McNair said. "I was saying 'Yes, sir' and 'No, sir,' and he asked me where I was raised, so I told him Arkansas. In response, he told me, 'We got some good "darkies" down here and I don't want you to forget your southern discipline.'"

Familiar with the Jim Crow South, McNair said he never ended a statement without adding "sir" to those words again.

Afterward, McNair focused more on his career as a professional photographer. The civil rights movement was reaching its climax. McNair said he was faced with many obstacles and hardships common to blacks.

"I had to be careful with what I was doing, but it's like anything else. You need to think all the time and know who you are and know where you are. This is the same way you do in life. You got to figure out what it is you need to do and do it," McNair said.

"Understand me, I believe in following rules, but you first need to know the rules. And if you know the rules, you can break the rules. But you do need to know what the rules are -- so when you break them, you know what your possibilities are if you get caught."

One of McNair's most riveting photos was taken after the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing on Sept. 16, 1963, in Birmingham, Ala. (known as "Bombingham" because of the many bombings of black establishments). He took only one picture that day, a photo that showed the front corner of the church with broken glass and damaged cars and mortar.

The bombing killed four young girls. Addie Mae Collins, Cynthia Wesley and Carole Robertson were all 14 years old. It was no coincidence that the youngest, Denise McNair, who was 11, shared the same last name. She was McNair's daughter.

"He had a way of turning a tragedy into a heroism in respect to his daughter's death," said Chrystal Hills, museum facilitator.

Since that day, the master photographer wanted to do his part in ensuring that the black struggle would be remembered.

"Keeping up with what happens is extremely important. But keeping a record of it is more than that. . . . you don't need to ever relax and think that things are the same for you as they are for the other folks," he said.

Last year, McNair and his wife, Maxine, visited the White House to commemorate what would have been his slain daughter's 53rd birthday. He was joined by one of his daughter's kindergarten classmates and childhood friends, Condoleezza Rice, then the national security adviser, now secretary of state.

McNair and his wife still live in Birmingham, where they own and operate a photography studio with their two daughters, Lisa and Kimberly. He has dedicated space in his studio to memorialize Denise and to remind him of his role in the movement.

James Turner is a student at Southern University who writes for The Southern Digest.

Posted Feb. 28, 2005