by Dianne Swann-Wright

On September 15th, 1963, opponents of the Civil Rights Movement in Birmingham, Alabama, placed 19 sticks of dynamite beneath the steps of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church. The explosion that followed killed four young girls - Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley - who were in the church basement preparing to participate in Youth Sunday activities. Their deaths served as an example of the senselessness of violence and motivated many to work harder for positive change.

Dianne Swann-Wright was a girl of 13 growing up in Baltimore, Maryland, a steel town like Birmingham, only farther north, when this took place. As a young black girl, she identified with these young ladies because they were around her age. Here she writes a symbolic letter to them, relating what their deaths meant to the Civil Rights Movement and to her.

My Dear Sisters,

You do not know me. In fact, you are probably wondering why I am using the term "sister" to address you. I consider you my sisters because we have many things in common and even though you do not know me, I have known about you for a long time. I am just about the same age you would have been had you lived and not been killed by the bomb that went off in your church on that Sunday morning in September. I have thought of you often over the years and have wondered what your lives would have been like had you not died in the Civil Rights Movement struggle. I thought that you might like to know how your deaths affected the Movement and what your deaths came to mean to the people you left behind.

Recently I visited your hometown. I went there at the request of people who are encouraging all people of Birmingham to be good citizens. This organization, the Citizenship Trust, is opening a learning center museum where students can come and learn about the wonderful events that led to our country's founding and the many examples of courage that brought about change for the better in our country's history. The people at American Village will talk about you.

Dianne as a girl
Dianne Swann-Wright as a girl

When I landed at Birmingham's busy airport, I thought that the four of you might have a difficult time recognizing your city today. Expressways and buildings are there that did not exist in 1963. Cars, buses, and clothing styles have changed. What would probably shock you most and please you to no end are the changes that have taken place in race relations and public attitudes. Black people and white people now eat in the same restaurants and shop in the same stores. Blacks are active in city government and teach in what were once considered "white schools." Many of these changes took place indirectly as a result of your deaths.

Oh, I know that you could not have known that you were going to give your lives for the Civil Rights Movement at the church that morning. I know that you were not in church that day to protest anything. You were there, dressed in your white dresses and wearing your white shoes, because you were participating in your church's Youth Sunday activities. You were going to help lead the worship activities.

People far away heard the explosion that killed you. Men who wanted to end civil rights protests placed sticks of dynamite under the church steps (the ones leading to the side entrance), lit the fuses, and drove away. The force of the bomb took your lives instantly. Many others were hurt very seriously. People ran to find you and attempted to save your lives. Many cried and asked God why this terrible thing had happened. They also became determined that your deaths would mean something. Your deaths became symbols, spurring people to change the things that were wrong in our society.

People all around the world heard about you. They sent cards and letters and donated money to repair the severely damaged church building. The people of Wales donated a replacement for the stained glass window - the one of Christ standing at the door and knocking. The bomb had blasted off the face of Jesus. Statues of you girls went up all around the country - even as far away as Arizona. A childcare center was named after one of you. Many people joined the Civil Rights Movement. When they became frightened, they thought of you and the sacrifices your lives represented, and they continued their efforts - still afraid but more determined.

No, the bombings did not stop. You know that people against the Civil Rights Movement for justice had bombed other churches before your deaths. They had also bombed the homes of ministers working for nonviolent change. They continued to do so. Five years after your death, one person even killed Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., who had led that big march on Washington a few weeks before your deaths. Other people were killed, too - but they were adults. They were not children as you were.

When I asked people in Birmingham if they remembered you, everyone did. They remembered you and they told me all about where they were when you died and how your deaths had saddened them and made them stronger at the same time. You are greatly missed and highly respected - by black people and white people, too. I just thought that you would like to know this.

Sincerely,
Dianne Swann-Wright