Tulsa was home to one of the most prosperous African American communities in the country. Businesses flourished along Greenwood Avenue — dubbed Black Wall Street, according to tradition, by the great educator Booker T. Washington. Residential neighborhoods spread out in a bustling community of several thousand souls.
In a little more than 12 hours, it was gone. White mobs invaded Greenwood intent on burning, looting and killing. This is what happened in the 1921.
"The first time Americans were terrorized by an aerial assault was not Pearl Harbor," a CBS News story says leading up to coverage this weekend of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.
"Scott Pelley reports on a race massacre in which an estimated 300 people, mostly African American men, women and children, were killed, and aircraft were used to drop incendiary devices on a black neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The Greenwood Massacre of 1921 has been largely ignored by history, but Pelley finds a Tulsa community seeking to shed more light on what's been called the worst race massacre in history," a preview reads for a "60 Minutes" story airing 6 p.m. Sunday on CBS.
Context for viewers: Six airplanes circled the Greenwood area during the morning hours of June 1.
What they were doing, and why there were so many, has long been a matter of passionate debate. Many people believe they were used to shoot at people on the ground and bomb Greenwood.
Officials said the small craft, generally thought to be two-seat, single-engine Curtis “Jenny” biplanes, were merely keeping track of activities on the ground and relaying the information through written messages dropped in weighted metal cylinders attached to streamers.
To what extent this explanation was initially challenged is unclear, but in October 1921 the Chicago Defender published a story in which it said Greenwood had been bombed under orders of “prominent city officials.”
The story cited a Van B. Hurley, who the newspaper said had given a signed statement to Elisha Scott, a Kansas attorney.
Scott filed dozens of lawsuits on behalf of victims but doesn’t seem to have ever entered the Hurley affidavit into the record. There is no record of a Van B. Hurley living in Tulsa around the time of the massacre or that anyone by that name ever belonged to the Tulsa police force.
But that doesn’t mean the story did not have substance. Many people believed city officials were behind the burning of Greenwood, and the explanation that the squadron of planes was only used for surveillance struck some as suspiciously thin.
Certainly the planes had a great psychological impact on many. For example, Mary Jones Parrish wrote about them in her account, as did prominent attorney B.C. Franklin in his.
The Defender story said the planes dropped “nitroglycerin on buildings, setting them afire.”
But nitroglycerin is an explosive, not an incendiary. It is also highly unstable and dangerous.
That has caused some to speculate that something like Molotov cocktails might have been used, or “turpentine balls” — rags soaked in flammable liquid and wrapped around the head of a stick.
There are several practical reasons why trying to light and throw incendiary devices from an open cockpit airplane of that era would seem a difficult, dangerous and even foolish idea.
"The first time Americans were terrorized by an aerial assault was not Pearl Harbor," a CBS News story says leading up to coverage this weekend of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.
"Scott Pelley reports on a race massacre in which an estimated 300 people, mostly African American men, women and children, were killed, and aircraft were used to drop incendiary devices on a black neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The Greenwood Massacre of 1921 has been largely ignored by history, but Pelley finds a Tulsa community seeking to shed more light on what's been called the worst race massacre in history," a preview reads for a "60 Minutes" story airing 6 p.m. Sunday on CBS.
Context for viewers: Six airplanes circled the Greenwood area during the morning hours of June 1.
What they were doing, and why there were so many, has long been a matter of passionate debate. Many people believe they were used to shoot at people on the ground and bomb Greenwood.
Officials said the small craft, generally thought to be two-seat, single-engine Curtis “Jenny” biplanes, were merely keeping track of activities on the ground and relaying the information through written messages dropped in weighted metal cylinders attached to streamers.
To what extent this explanation was initially challenged is unclear, but in October 1921 the Chicago Defender published a story in which it said Greenwood had been bombed under orders of “prominent city officials.”
The story cited a Van B. Hurley, who the newspaper said had given a signed statement to Elisha Scott, a Kansas attorney.
Scott filed dozens of lawsuits on behalf of victims but doesn’t seem to have ever entered the Hurley affidavit into the record. There is no record of a Van B. Hurley living in Tulsa around the time of the massacre or that anyone by that name ever belonged to the Tulsa police force.
But that doesn’t mean the story did not have substance. Many people believed city officials were behind the burning of Greenwood, and the explanation that the squadron of planes was only used for surveillance struck some as suspiciously thin.
Certainly the planes had a great psychological impact on many. For example, Mary Jones Parrish wrote about them in her account, as did prominent attorney B.C. Franklin in his.
The Defender story said the planes dropped “nitroglycerin on buildings, setting them afire.”
But nitroglycerin is an explosive, not an incendiary. It is also highly unstable and dangerous.
That has caused some to speculate that something like Molotov cocktails might have been used, or “turpentine balls” — rags soaked in flammable liquid and wrapped around the head of a stick.
There are several practical reasons why trying to light and throw incendiary devices from an open cockpit airplane of that era would seem a difficult, dangerous and even foolish idea.
"The first time Americans were terrorized by an aerial assault was not Pearl Harbor," a CBS News story says leading up to coverage this weekend of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.
"Scott Pelley reports on a race massacre in which an estimated 300 people, mostly African American men, women and children, were killed, and aircraft were used to drop incendiary devices on a black neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The Greenwood Massacre of 1921 has been largely ignored by history, but Pelley finds a Tulsa community seeking to shed more light on what's been called the worst race massacre in history," a preview reads for a "60 Minutes" story airing 6 p.m. Sunday on CBS.
Context for viewers: Six airplanes circled the Greenwood area during the morning hours of June 1.
What they were doing, and why there were so many, has long been a matter of passionate debate. Many people believe they were used to shoot at people on the ground and bomb Greenwood.
Officials said the small craft, generally thought to be two-seat, single-engine Curtis “Jenny” biplanes, were merely keeping track of activities on the ground and relaying the information through written messages dropped in weighted metal cylinders attached to streamers.
To what extent this explanation was initially challenged is unclear, but in October 1921 the Chicago Defender published a story in which it said Greenwood had been bombed under orders of “prominent city officials.”
The story cited a Van B. Hurley, who the newspaper said had given a signed statement to Elisha Scott, a Kansas attorney.
Scott filed dozens of lawsuits on behalf of victims but doesn’t seem to have ever entered the Hurley affidavit into the record. There is no record of a Van B. Hurley living in Tulsa around the time of the massacre or that anyone by that name ever belonged to the Tulsa police force.
But that doesn’t mean the story did not have substance. Many people believed city officials were behind the burning of Greenwood, and the explanation that the squadron of planes was only used for surveillance struck some as suspiciously thin.
Certainly the planes had a great psychological impact on many. For example, Mary Jones Parrish wrote about them in her account, as did prominent attorney B.C. Franklin in his.
The Defender story said the planes dropped “nitroglycerin on buildings, setting them afire.”
But nitroglycerin is an explosive, not an incendiary. It is also highly unstable and dangerous.
That has caused some to speculate that something like Molotov cocktails might have been used, or “turpentine balls” — rags soaked in flammable liquid and wrapped around the head of a stick.
There are several practical reasons why trying to light and throw incendiary devices from an open cockpit airplane of that era would seem a difficult, dangerous and even foolish idea.
"The first time Americans were terrorized by an aerial assault was not Pearl Harbor," a CBS News story says leading up to coverage this weekend of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.
"Scott Pelley reports on a race massacre in which an estimated 300 people, mostly African American men, women and children, were killed, and aircraft were used to drop incendiary devices on a black neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The Greenwood Massacre of 1921 has been largely ignored by history, but Pelley finds a Tulsa community seeking to shed more light on what's been called the worst race massacre in history," a preview reads for a "60 Minutes" story airing 6 p.m. Sunday on CBS.
Context for viewers: Six airplanes circled the Greenwood area during the morning hours of June 1.
What they were doing, and why there were so many, has long been a matter of passionate debate. Many people believe they were used to shoot at people on the ground and bomb Greenwood.
Officials said the small craft, generally thought to be two-seat, single-engine Curtis “Jenny” biplanes, were merely keeping track of activities on the ground and relaying the information through written messages dropped in weighted metal cylinders attached to streamers.
To what extent this explanation was initially challenged is unclear, but in October 1921 the Chicago Defender published a story in which it said Greenwood had been bombed under orders of “prominent city officials.”
The story cited a Van B. Hurley, who the newspaper said had given a signed statement to Elisha Scott, a Kansas attorney.
Scott filed dozens of lawsuits on behalf of victims but doesn’t seem to have ever entered the Hurley affidavit into the record. There is no record of a Van B. Hurley living in Tulsa around the time of the massacre or that anyone by that name ever belonged to the Tulsa police force.
But that doesn’t mean the story did not have substance. Many people believed city officials were behind the burning of Greenwood, and the explanation that the squadron of planes was only used for surveillance struck some as suspiciously thin.
Certainly the planes had a great psychological impact on many. For example, Mary Jones Parrish wrote about them in her account, as did prominent attorney B.C. Franklin in his.
The Defender story said the planes dropped “nitroglycerin on buildings, setting them afire.”
But nitroglycerin is an explosive, not an incendiary. It is also highly unstable and dangerous.
That has caused some to speculate that something like Molotov cocktails might have been used, or “turpentine balls” — rags soaked in flammable liquid and wrapped around the head of a stick.
There are several practical reasons why trying to light and throw incendiary devices from an open cockpit airplane of that era would seem a difficult, dangerous and even foolish idea.
"The first time Americans were terrorized by an aerial assault was not Pearl Harbor," a CBS News story says leading up to coverage this weekend of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.
"Scott Pelley reports on a race massacre in which an estimated 300 people, mostly African American men, women and children, were killed, and aircraft were used to drop incendiary devices on a black neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The Greenwood Massacre of 1921 has been largely ignored by history, but Pelley finds a Tulsa community seeking to shed more light on what's been called the worst race massacre in history," a preview reads for a "60 Minutes" story airing 6 p.m. Sunday on CBS.
Context for viewers: Six airplanes circled the Greenwood area during the morning hours of June 1.
What they were doing, and why there were so many, has long been a matter of passionate debate. Many people believe they were used to shoot at people on the ground and bomb Greenwood.
Officials said the small craft, generally thought to be two-seat, single-engine Curtis “Jenny” biplanes, were merely keeping track of activities on the ground and relaying the information through written messages dropped in weighted metal cylinders attached to streamers.
To what extent this explanation was initially challenged is unclear, but in October 1921 the Chicago Defender published a story in which it said Greenwood had been bombed under orders of “prominent city officials.”
The story cited a Van B. Hurley, who the newspaper said had given a signed statement to Elisha Scott, a Kansas attorney.
Scott filed dozens of lawsuits on behalf of victims but doesn’t seem to have ever entered the Hurley affidavit into the record. There is no record of a Van B. Hurley living in Tulsa around the time of the massacre or that anyone by that name ever belonged to the Tulsa police force.
But that doesn’t mean the story did not have substance. Many people believed city officials were behind the burning of Greenwood, and the explanation that the squadron of planes was only used for surveillance struck some as suspiciously thin.
Certainly the planes had a great psychological impact on many. For example, Mary Jones Parrish wrote about them in her account, as did prominent attorney B.C. Franklin in his.
The Defender story said the planes dropped “nitroglycerin on buildings, setting them afire.”
But nitroglycerin is an explosive, not an incendiary. It is also highly unstable and dangerous.
That has caused some to speculate that something like Molotov cocktails might have been used, or “turpentine balls” — rags soaked in flammable liquid and wrapped around the head of a stick.
There are several practical reasons why trying to light and throw incendiary devices from an open cockpit airplane of that era would seem a difficult, dangerous and even foolish idea.
"The first time Americans were terrorized by an aerial assault was not Pearl Harbor," a CBS News story says leading up to coverage this weekend of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.
"Scott Pelley reports on a race massacre in which an estimated 300 people, mostly African American men, women and children, were killed, and aircraft were used to drop incendiary devices on a black neighborhood in Tulsa, Oklahoma. The Greenwood Massacre of 1921 has been largely ignored by history, but Pelley finds a Tulsa community seeking to shed more light on what's been called the worst race massacre in history," a preview reads for a "60 Minutes" story airing 6 p.m. Sunday on CBS.
Context for viewers: Six airplanes circled the Greenwood area during the morning hours of June 1.
What they were doing, and why there were so many, has long been a matter of passionate debate. Many people believe they were used to shoot at people on the ground and bomb Greenwood.
Officials said the small craft, generally thought to be two-seat, single-engine Curtis “Jenny” biplanes, were merely keeping track of activities on the ground and relaying the information through written messages dropped in weighted metal cylinders attached to streamers.
To what extent this explanation was initially challenged is unclear, but in October 1921 the Chicago Defender published a story in which it said Greenwood had been bombed under orders of “prominent city officials.”
The story cited a Van B. Hurley, who the newspaper said had given a signed statement to Elisha Scott, a Kansas attorney.
Scott filed dozens of lawsuits on behalf of victims but doesn’t seem to have ever entered the Hurley affidavit into the record. There is no record of a Van B. Hurley living in Tulsa around the time of the massacre or that anyone by that name ever belonged to the Tulsa police force.
But that doesn’t mean the story did not have substance. Many people believed city officials were behind the burning of Greenwood, and the explanation that the squadron of planes was only used for surveillance struck some as suspiciously thin.
Certainly the planes had a great psychological impact on many. For example, Mary Jones Parrish wrote about them in her account, as did prominent attorney B.C. Franklin in his.
The Defender story said the planes dropped “nitroglycerin on buildings, setting them afire.”
But nitroglycerin is an explosive, not an incendiary. It is also highly unstable and dangerous.
That has caused some to speculate that something like Molotov cocktails might have been used, or “turpentine balls” — rags soaked in flammable liquid and wrapped around the head of a stick.
There are several practical reasons why trying to light and throw incendiary devices from an open cockpit airplane of that era would seem a difficult, dangerous and even foolish idea.
The violence and destruction that transpired over a two-day period in the heart of Greenwood between black and white Tulsans nearly a century ago was widely described as a riot.
A host of government entities, businesses and nonprofits have projects set to begin in north Tulsa in the year leading up to the anniversary of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre on May 31- June 1, 2021.
The church held its first service on April 4, 1921 at 419 N. Elgin Ave. It opened after a five-year, ambitious $92,000 investment. Less than two months later, white mobs destroyed it.
Black Tulsans are owed reparations for the 1921 Race Massacre and systemic economic and social oppression in the 99 years since, a panel of local and national advocates said Sunday evening during a YouTube conference.
On the 99th anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre, and amid racial tensions across the country for the past week, a pair of documentaries that will focus on the massacre and on Black Wall Street were announced on Monday.
All 1,600 IC Bus of Oklahoma employees are scheduled to be tested at the Tulsa plant Tuesday. In the last two weeks, the plant has gone from one case of COVID-19 to more than 40, the plant manager said.
In a Facebook post Tuesday morning, the mayor said he would not use the civil emergency authority allowed by city ordinance. The mayor's message came after the Tulsa Health Department's leader had urged postponing the event due to a surge in COVID-19 cases.
Mayor G.T. Bynum’s office provided a copy of the contract between the city of Tulsa and the BOK Center's facility manager. On Tuesday, the mayor said he didn't know the rally was happening until the arena contacted the city for police support for the event.
Cases continue to surge throughout Oklahoma just days before large events are scheduled. On Wednesday, Tulsa County reported its highest single-day total of new cases and its highest seven-day average for new cases since the pandemic began.
Mayor G.T. Bynum, during a noon press briefing at Tulsa Police headquarters, said he welcomed the rallies and other weekend events, with one major caveat.
The comments contrast with those made by Mayor G.T. Bynum who, in a Facebook post Tuesday, implied that he was left out of the loop when it came to planning for the event.
The campaign funds will be used to help restore the historic building in the Greenwood District, at the corner of Archer Street and Greenwood Avenue, and provide ongoing resources to businesses in the district and the local community.
Organizers said the story of Black Wall Street, a hub of black-owned businesses before it was destroyed in the 1921 Race Massacre, made Tulsa an especially appropriate place to march and file the lawsuit, which targets the federal Small Business Administration.
The National Park Service designation was signed late Wednesday, days after President Donald Trump said during an appearance in Tulsa that he had recommended the action.
State Archeologist Kary Stackelbeck said the fill material causes the scientists to still believe the site at the west end of the cemetery is a likely place to search for unmarked burials.
A week of excavation revealed some clues about changes to the cemetery's landscape since the early 1900s but no evidence of burials in the area being searched.
The Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921 and other historical events are woven into Bitter Root, which won best ongoing series at the 2020 Will Eisner Comic Industry Awards.
Hannibal B. Johnson returns to a subject he knows as well as anyone with his new book, “Black Wall Street 100: An American City Grapples with its Historical Racial Trauma.”
Oklahoma Humanities will match Damon Lindelof's fundraising challenge benefiting the Greenwood Rising history center and exhibit set to open in honor of the 100th anniversary of the Tulsa Race Massacre in 2021.
"This will be a world-class facility where people can come and see that not only did black lives matter in Greenwood then, but they will matter always," said Maggie Hille Yar, whose family donated the land on which the museum is to be built.
The plaintiffs include one massacre survivor, 105-year-old Lessie Randle; a handful of descendants of survivors; Vernon AME Church; and the Tulsa African Ancestral Society.
Work began about 4:15 a.m. Monday on the milling and overlay project, which had already been scheduled to happen. Within two hours, the yellow lettering was completely gone.
Krehbiel, the Tulsa World's chief political writer, won the non-fiction award for his book "Tulsa 1921: Reporting a Massacre," while Harjo took the poetry prize for "An American Sunrise."
“I think that, for the last 20 years, not a day has gone by when I haven’t in some way or another thought about the massacre. I don’t want to say it was an obsession, but I was always thinking about where I could find this bit of information, some new angle to take, trying to figure who is being honest and who isn’t,” Randy Krehbiel said about the research that went into his new book.
"We all have an obligation to undo this, even if we inherited it," said Mayor David Holt, among panelists responding to Winfrey for an Apple TV+ exclusive.
Emig: Let’s recognize him for advancing our society, for taking the time to learn about something very dark that happened in our city, and taking the initiative to help bring it to light.
The walkway, connecting Elgin and Greenwood avenues, will be an outdoor space for residents and visitors to reflect on art and the history of Greenwood.
State Archeologist Kary Stackelbeck said the team has identified a subsurface anomaly about three times larger than the trench dug Tuesday and Wednesday, leaving open the possibility that more remains could be found.
Brenda Alford chairs the citizens committee overseeing the search. "A lot of the reason I do this is in the memory of family members and community members I grew up knowing as a kid," she says.
In a letter addressed to "My friends in North Tulsa," Lankford acknowledges that his actions "caused a firestorm of suspicion among many of my friends, particularly in Black communities around the state. I was completely blindsided, but I also found a blind spot."
The film, produced by Sam Pollard and Joyce Vaughn, was written by Tulsa native Carmen Fields, a journalist and media consultant now based in Boston, Massachusetts.
At its zenith, Greenwood featured more than 300 black-owned businesses. Nearly a century later, just 20 businesses there are owned and operated by African Americans. "You can see the gentrification happening," longtime local activist Kristi Williams said.
"I do believe our film started the ball rolling in earnest to provoke people to thoughtfulness and activity," said Carmen Fields, writer of the documentary "Goin' Back to T-Town."
“The Tulsa Race Massacre was not something I was taught about in school or in any of my history books” the former Oklahoma City Thunder player said in a news release. “It was only after spending 11 years in Oklahoma that I learned of this deeply troubling and heartbreaking event.”
“The Tulsa Race Massacre was not something I was taught about in school or in any of my history books” the former Oklahoma City Thunder player said in a news release. “It was only after spending 11 years in Oklahoma that I learned of this deeply troubling and heartbreaking event.”
Hughes Van Ellis, 100, of Aurora, Colorado, was only recently identified as a survivor of the Tulsa Race Massacre, officials said. Ellis and fellow plaintiffs Lessie Randle, 106, of Tulsa, and Viola Fletcher, 106, of Bartlesville, are the last known survivors of the 1921 event.
Performers include some of the leading Black performers in the opera world, such as Oklahoma native and long-time star soprano of the Metropolitan Opera Leona Mitchell.
Starting in May, district classrooms in third grade and up will start blending in lesson plans about the 1921 event, its causes and its long-term impact into their social studies classes.
“I say this clearly — our kids, our staff, our parents, and our supporters should never have to face being the subject of racial attacks and slurs at any school event,” said Paula Lewis, chairperson of the Oklahoma City Public Schools Board of Education, in a written statement Tuesday.
"The ability to wear these special patches is a small way ... to raise awareness of the tragic events that took place in 1921," the GM said, noting the team's home, ONEOK Field, is in Tulsa’s Historic Greenwood District.
Nevertheless, Tulsa was fairly bursting with enthusiasm and pride in the spring of 1921. But pride goeth before a fall, to paraphrase Proverbs, and Tulsa was in for a big one.
The city insists that lighting in the area is good and says it will continue to work with the Greenwood Chamber of Commerce to ensure the public's safety.
Moody Nolan, the largest African American-owned architecture firm in the country, will lead the effort, with JCJ Architecture serving as the local architect of record, the city announced Monday.
Nevertheless, Tulsa was fairly bursting with enthusiasm and pride in the spring of 1921. But pride goeth before a fall, to paraphrase Proverbs, and Tulsa was in for a big one.
The violence and destruction that transpired over a two-day period in the heart of Greenwood between black and white Tulsans nearly a century ago was widely described as a riot.
Viola Fletcher of Bartlesville was greeted with a series of video messages, including from actors Danny Glover and Piper Perabo, musician Michael Stipe and U.S. Sen. Cory Booker, among others.
The commission met into the night Monday as pressure mounted to expel some of its most prominent members, including Gov. Kevin Stitt, while it dealt with potentially crippling legislation, the completion of the Greenwood Rising History Center, and an announcement by the New Black Panther Party and affiliated organizations that 1,000 armed black men will march in Tulsa on the weekend of the observance.
In the days following the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, some religious leaders in Tulsa did more than turn a blind eye to the atrocities — they were quoted as preaching affirmations of the violence and blaming the so-called “riot” on Black Tulsans.
Remember & Rise, a Tulsa Race Massacre Centennial Commission event, is set for Memorial Day, Monday, May 31, at ONEOK Field, with Legend leading the formal program from 4-6 p.m.
Remember & Rise, a Tulsa Race Massacre Centennial Commission event, is set for Memorial Day, Monday, May 31, at ONEOK Field, with Legend leading the formal program from 4-6 p.m.
Abrams joins singer-songwriter John Legend, whose participation was announced last week. Remember & Rise is set for Memorial Day, May 31, at ONEOK Field.
Viola Fletcher, one of the last known survivors of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, told national lawmakers Wednesday that, 100 years later, she can “still smell the smoke” and “hear the screams” from the night her family fled Tulsa and invading white mobs.
Nick Bezzel, founder of the Elmer Geronimo Pratt Pistol & Rifle Gun Club of Central Texas, last week called on the city to approve a special event permit for the Greenwood Centennial Remembrance Walk scheduled for May 29.
Officials on Thursday revealed that actor Hill Harper and spoken word poet Brandon Leake will be among the special guests, with Harper serving as emcee of the event featuring John Legend and Stacey Abrams.
A documentary about the Greenwood District is on tulsaworld.com beginning Sunday thanks to Oklahoma State University students and a former Tulsa World staff photographer.
Emails obtained by the Tulsa World indicate discussions between the attorney for the last known survivors and the Race Massacre Centennial Commission broke down days before the commemoration event was canceled.
A great-grandson of W. Tate Brady, a founder of Tulsa who played a role in the Tulsa Race Massacre, has has reached out to leaders in the Greenwood District in a reconciliation effort
"That economic engine can be restarted," Greenwood Rising's project director says of Black Wall Street. But another Greenwood leader's fear is "on June 2, we go back to where we were and it's quiet."
As part of commemoration activities Monday for the centennial of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, members of the historic church and the community came together to officially dedicate Vernon’s Prayer Wall of Racial Healing.
Details of Biden's visit are scant, except that he will make no appearances open to the general public but is expected to make some sort of statement in the afternoon.
"Although the act of putting this soil in this jar may seem like a simple gesture, there is something really powerful about saying that we are witnesses of what has happened and we are committing ourselves and our communities and future generations to never forgetting what has happened in this community," an organizer said.
This Archive Edition is the result of a methodical examination of the massacre starting in 1999. Since then, the Tulsa World newsroom has produced more than 6,000 stories and 2,000 photographs connected to the events of 1921.
The lawsuit seeks a victims' compensation fund, a hospital to be built in north Tulsa, a scholarship program, and for Black Tulsans to no longer pay state and local taxes because economic justice has been taken from them.
As people come to terms with the horrific truth of the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, a Harvard University professor says there isn't one definitive answer to what reparations here should look like a century later.
"Should our schools now teach the truth about Tulsa? Yes, and they should also stop the battle to whitewash curriculums to avoid discomfort for students," the actor writes in a guest column for the New York Times.
Among the most notable findings, according to one researcher: Oklahoma at one point before 1921 had more Black lawyers practicing than any other state — estimated at more than 60.
“I’m a white male, and ... I assume everyone’s the same and everyone is getting along and we all feel great, but when you review this data, the reality is that’s not the case," one researcher said.
The remains of 19 people exhumed from a mass grave at Oaklawn Cemetery earlier this summer were reinterred Friday over the loud objections of about 30 possible descendants of those individuals.
"The thing that hurt them the most was hearing people say they were not injured, that they did not have a specific injury related to the massacre; … they were really shocked to hear that."
Dr. Anita Williams Christopher was the first African American licensed to practice optometry in the state of Oklahoma and one of the first African American women nationally to earn their licenses.
Supporters of @GreenwoodRising can vote online in the Readers' Choice awards through Dec. 20. Less than three years ago, Gathering Place won the same contest.
Following a 24-year career with Tulsa Public Schools, most of it as a history teacher, Gates concentrated on researching and writing about Black history, particularly as it pertained to Tulsa and eastern Oklahoma.
A Tulsa-based advocacy group on Tuesday presented a supplemental letter to Justice Department officials detailing its request that a formal investigation begin regarding the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre and the city's handling of the massacre's aftermath.
2021's Most Memorable Stories: Sen. Lankford wrote the letter addressed to “My friends in North Tulsa” back in January. >> This story is free to read this week thanks to Bill Knight Automotive.
Henry Louis Gates Jr., the show's creator and host, met with Lessie Benningfield Randle, Viola Fletcher and Hughes Van Ellis when he the guest of Tulsa Town Hall on April 8.
Plaintiffs, seeking a rebuilt Greenwood community and reparations, say the Johnson & Johnson opioid decision is a foundation for their own case. The city will argue for dismissal at 1:30 p.m. Monday.
“We have a lot of work to do, but nobody in the country has ever gotten this far,” lead attorney Damario Solomon-Simmons announced to a cheering crowd of supporters outside the courtroom.
Broken promises from governments have a generational effect because of their occurrence throughout history, beginning with Native American nations, said Vanessa Adams-Harris of the John Hope Franklin Center for Reconciliation.
District Judge Caroline Wall gave three survivors another chance to seek relief through the courts, but she said "a large part of the remedy for this is up to the County and state of Oklahoma to do on its own."