Visitor reveals past racism

It began with a knock on my front door four years ago.

I was napping on the sofa on a lazy Sunday afternoon, dozing amid a jumbled pile of Sunday papers. The ball game was on television. My wife and kids were away. I had skipped church and was enjoying time to myself.

Unshaven, wearing a grungy sweat suit, I opened the door. There stood a tall, thin, distinguished looking elderly black man and a slightly younger woman. I had no idea who they were.

"I lived here when I was a little boy and my father was the minister at the church next door," the man said tentatively.

Like most folks in Charleston who are proud of their old house, I lit up with excitement. "Well come in and tell me all about it."

I suppose he had been prepared for a less than warm and friendly welcome, for his demeanor changed immediately. He relaxed.

His name was James Dyer, and over the next few hours, he told me an extraordinary story about his family, his father's foray into leftist politics and the violent racism of Charleston in the 1940s.

My father, too, was a preacher, and he had been active in the civil rights movement, so I was excited to listen to Dyer.

In broad strokes, he told me his story, and his elder brother, Charles, and sister Marcia filled in details during a second visit several weeks ago.

Commitment

Their father, Jacob Dyer, was a native of Jamaica who grew up in the era of British colonial rule when the native people were beginning to challenge the king's authority and fight for independence.

One of his best friends was Norman Manley, who would become prime minister of Jamaica and whose son, Michael Manley, also would become prime minister.

Dyer knew Norman Manley as a young barrister and union organizer who led protests and advocated for independence. The British worked hard to brand him and his compatriots dangerous radical leftists, or worse.

Dyer joined his friend in politics and was committed both to freedom and the Lord. He went to McMaster University in Canada, studied theology and became an ordained minister. Having left Jamaica for the U.S. in the early days of World War II, Dyer joined the Army and served honorably as a chaplain to the black troops in the South Pacific.

After the war, he and his family settled in Charleston, where he was the minister in 1947-48 of Plymouth Congregational Church next to my house on Pitt Street near Bull Street.

Dyer tended his flock, worked with local union organizers and became involved in politics. In 1948, Henry Wallace ran for president on the Progressive Party ticket and Dyer signed on to help. Wallace had been vice president under Franklin D. Roosevelt from 1941-45 but was dumped from the ticket in favor of Harry Truman.

Among Wallace's most high-profile supporters was Paul Robeson, the world-renowned black athlete, scholar, singer, actor and political activist. Robeson was a vocal supporter of trade unions, had visited the Soviet Union and was sympathetic to aspects of Communist ideology.

When he came to Charleston to campaign for Wallace, Robeson was shunned by the Charleston establishment, both black and white. No white-owned hotel would let him in, and even the black hotels turned him away, James Dyer said.

So Robeson stayed with Dyer and his family in their house at 32 Bull St.

But some in Charleston were not content to merely ignore Robeson: They also harassed his hosts. Someone threw a rock through the front window of the Dyer home.

Later that year, Dyer was walking in downtown Charleston with a labor organizer. As they strolled down the street, a man jumped out of a car and, without a word, shot the union organizer dead.

When the police arrived, Dyer gave them a description of the shooter and the license plate of the car, but the authorities did little, James Dyer said. They seemed glad to be rid of a troublemaker.

To the elder Dyer, the message was clear: In Charleston, he and his family were in danger. Shortly thereafter, they moved to New York City, never to return.

Lost talent

Despite the lack of local Charleston records, most of the details of Dyer's time in Charleston were confirmed in FBI reports that his son, my visitor, obtained years later through a Freedom of Information Act request.

But it does not end there. This is also a story of loss, Charleston's loss.

The Dyer children became productive citizens. They began their elementary education at the Avery Institute on Bull Street and finished at Harvard, Rutgers and other established universities.

Marcia, the oldest, received two master's degrees and has retired from her post as a professor at a Long Island community college.

Charles graduated with a Ph.D. from the City University of New York and has retired from a career as an educator.

James, the youngest, received his undergraduate degree from Harvard and then worked with the Urban League, where he directed its national training programs.

Their children, in turn, have attended Harvard, Princeton, Columbia, Wesleyan and Dartmouth, and have gone on to jobs in government, finance, medicine, education, entertainment and community service.

They returned to Charleston to visit many years after their father felt compelled to escape the hatred and racism.

There is a saying that we are punished by our sins and not for them. We in Charleston were punished by our sins of intolerance when this remarkable family fled.

Surely, had the Dyer family remained in Charleston, the community would have been richer as a result.

I wonder how many other extraordinary immigrants in Charleston today are leaving the city because of intolerance?

Phil Noble is a businessman and president of the S.C. New Democrats, an independent reform group started by former S.C. Gov. Richard Riley.