A Last Angry Man
In many ways Julius Hobson is an anomaly among civil rights activists. He did not come out of the church, the poverty program, labor or politics. He has a reputation for being abrasive, even to those who side with him. He is an avowed Marxist and atheist in Washington, D.C., which he describes as a "Baptist, Methodist town." In the mid-'60s he was kicked out of the Congress of Racial Equality because he did not believe in its nonviolent strategy. He has frequently acted alone, and once admitted to friends that he could hold all of his meetings in a telephone booth.
For all his personal shortcomings, Hobson has for the past 20 years been a gadfly with a potent sting in the capital, a rasping voice for change in a seething black community that has erupted more than once in frustration and bitterness. Jabbing at various Administrations, sparring incessantly with local officials, Hobson has probably done more than any other man, black or white, to bring about positive change in Washington, particularly in public school integration and civilian hiring practices. Even his enemies—and they are legion—will admit that. But then, they will not have to endure his bumptious assaults much longer. Julius Hobson, 50, is dying of bone cancer.
Odorless. In tribute to Hobson and his ineradicable imprint on Washington, some 2,000 friends and foes gathered two weeks ago at the Sheraton-Park Hotel for a testimonial dinner. The affair was held on a day named in his honor by Mayor Walter Washington, whom Hobson once described as "tasteless, colorless and odorless." Indeed, the mayor refused to buy a $5 ticket for the banquet. Typically, Hobson responded: "I've got to compliment him for his honesty. I wouldn't go to his testimonial either."
That sort of hide-flaying flippancy has often diverted attention from Hobson's genuine accomplishments. In 1967 he was the plaintiff in one of the nation's most publicized school desegregation suits. Judge J. Skelly Wright of the U.S. district court ruled that the local school administrator was guilty of discriminating against blacks in the allocation of school funds and supplies as well as in the assignment of pupils and teachers. The following year Hobson was elected to Washington's first popularly chosen school board, where he led the struggle to carry out Judge Wright's decision.
Hobson, though, takes greater pride in his successful campaign to change downtown racial practices. "When I started out with picket lines in 1960," he told TIME Correspondent Paul Hathaway, "a black clerk was as rare as a white crow. Now they are all over the place." He pressured such giants as Safeway Stores and A&P into hiring blacks for the first time. When one leading auto dealer hired a black salesman, Hobson thanked the company by buying his first Ford there.
Prev:The High Priestess of NutritionNext:Kudos for Clinicians
If you enjoyed this post, please consider to leave a comment or subscribe to the feed and get future articles delivered to your feed reader.
