General
This is an opinion column.
You still feel something. Walk through and around Kelly Ingram Park, just a few strides from Birmingham’s downtown core.
You still feel what happened there. You still feel the cries and chorus of young voices. You still feel, too, the hatred that sought to silence them, the snarling police dogs and powerful fire hoses that sought to stop them.
You still feel fear. And courage.
You still feel change.
The ground there is still hallowed dirt upon which true blood, sweat and tears were shed in the quest to squash legal racism in Birmingham and beyond. Still a destination for many seeking to know and learn from what happened there.
Yet the park is mostly sparse, as are crowds entering the proud but aging Birmingham Civil Rights Institute.
The city — being real now — has lost ground. Lost its hallowed status as the state’s premier historic destination. Lost it to Montgomery, where the wrenchingly powerful Legacy Museum and National Memorial to Peace and Justice (the “lynching museum,” as I and so many describe it) draw more than 500,000 visitors annually to that city. They’ve also sparked the development of hotels and restaurants around the sites.
Half a million visitors seeking a raw, emotional understating of the impact of the more than 4,000 lynchings EJI chronicles, and a deep understanding of still-lingering effects of enslavement, Jim Crow and mass incarceration.
Losing even more ground is a very real threat to Birmingham, losing to Mobile. In recent weeks, that city stood in bold defiance of national edicts to douse and diminish our most painful history. In April, President Donald Trump signed an executive order demanding the removal of exhibits at Smithsonian Institutions that “divide Americans based on race.”
Instead, Mobile last month broke ground on a $5.1 million Africatown Welcome Center that will rightfully honor a community founded by survivors of the Clotilda, the very last slave ship known to have reached our shores. Next week, the city will unveil its new Hall of Fame Walk, a dynamic collection of 9-foot bronze statues honoring sons of Mobile who are in the Major League Baseball and National Football League Halls.
Meanwhile, Birmingham stagnates. Its district sits silent, mostly. There is a wonderful Black-owned coffee shop — Alecia’s Coffee — in the restored A.G. Gaston motel just around the corner from the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute. The city poured $10 million into the restoration; a $1.1 million grant from the Mellon Foundation helped build the coffee shop and hotel exhibits.
In April, 16th Street Baptist broke ground on a 13,000 square-foot Education and Visitors Center. As you read this, construction on the facility is grinding away. (Well, maybe not on Juneteenth.)
Otherwise, 20 square blocks of what should be an economically thriving homage to what happened there lay dormant and ignored. Too long languishing. Too long decaying.
That must change. After pausing today to commemorate Juneteenth — the day when the last of the nation’s enslaved learned they were free — Birmingham must not crawl back to a cave of complacency regarding the district. Must not allow it to continue to shiver and shrink beneath a tattered blanket of potential.
Birmingham must stop losing ground on ground that should be bearing copious fruit: jobs, businesses, retail and hospitality destinations and housing. Ground that should once again be a magnet to those seeking to know and learn more about how Birmingham changed us, and those who changed us.
Ground now parched from neglect — a stark contradiction to an economic explosion fueled by the city’s restaurant and sports tourism industries and a surge in small-business and tech-oriented companies.
“The lynching museum is one of the top tourist destinations in the state and it’s driving a lot of development,” says City Council President Darrell O’Quinn, whose district encompasses the civil rights region. “But to my eyes, Montgomery is like a cow town compared to Birmingham.”
To be fair, Montgomery’s ascendance is a testament to the singular gifts of Bryan Stevenson, the acclaimed attorney, filmmaker and founder of the Equal Justice Initiative. Even he’s now stunned at the local impact of the institutions he created.
“We were really just trying to create a space where we could talk about parts of our history that I don’t think have been adequately addressed,” Stevenson told AL.com last year. “The ambition at that time was relatively small, and I’ve been blown away by the response. I did not imagine that we’d see a half-million people a year want to come to these sites.”
“What happened in Montgomery — that never would have happened from within,” says Christopher Nanni, president and CEO of the Community Foundation of Greater Birmingham, which facilitates varied efforts to promote regional cooperation. “It took a visionary with outside resources that was almost like a spaceship planted there.”
Alas, Birmingham doesn’t have its Stevenson, and he’s not cruising up I-65 to plant new seeds in this sacred ground. But there are folks here who know more should be done to honor, and, yes, leverage its legacy for growth.
Among them: real estate developer Michael Mouron, who’s restored several faded and forgotten shells and leased them to now-thriving businesses and nonprofit organizations.
“If people are driving and flying in to see those exhibits, guess what city they’re coming through to get to Montgomery: Birmingham,” he told me last month. “What’s to stop Birmingham from doing that?”
“There’s a lot of rich history here,” adds O’Quinn. “Folks around the world actually looked to Birmingham and emulated us. Maybe it’s one of those things now, like when you’re too familiar, familiarity breeds contempt. When you’re too close to a thing, you don’t really appreciate it. It’s just part of the human condition. There’s definitely a lot of opportunity.”
Just so we’re clear, I’m not casting blame and trying to dampen Juneteenth. I’m calling forth and challenging. I’m demanding that we all — city officials, developers, district property owners (yes, you, Alabama Power), our aging foot soldiers and pioneers, and others finally do what long ago should have been done: Convene, commit and execute a plan to birth economic vibrancy from the district’s soil.
Here’s the thing: There’s already a plan. A solid plan. A doable plan.
Just over five years ago, Urban Impact and Rev Birmingham cooperated to create thea master plan, the fruit of their 18-month effort to produce what they call a “community-based process for aligning future investment and development in the Civil Rights District and the Switch (surrounding Innovation Depot) with the community’s vision for this locally- and internationally-significant place.”
The Switch envelopes several blocks between 1st Ave North and 4th Ave North, extending west from the historic 14th Street Switchyard (I-65) to 16th Street. It sits just west of the Civil Rights District, which encompasses about 30 square blocks that include routes for demonstrations, including the 1963 Children’s March.
The plan called for “catalytic” development on five sites, three of them in the Civil Rights District. One proposal was for a hotel, residences, multi-level parking, a majestic event space and mixed-use development on the property between 6th and 7th Ave North and 16th and 17th Streets. (It’s now a parking lot across from the 16th St. Baptist Church and diagonally from the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute.)
Overall, the plan comprised six goals:
- Preventing displacement
- Community wealth-building
- Black-Owned business support
- Mixed-income development
- Public realm and identity
- Entrepreneur and start-up support
Finally, it offered next steps labelled “Six Big Moves to transform the Northwest quadrant and lift the Birmingham community”:
- Align district stewards with areas of responsibility
- Focus public investment on four vital corridors and two public spaces
- Drive small business and equitable real estate investment around vital corridors
- Establish a hub of entrepreneurial support resources
- Aggressively recruit key innovation organizations
- Break new ground on sites owned by civic champions
“It’s still a very valid plan, and it lays out a call to action,” says Ivan Holloway of Urban Impact.
So, what happened?
Unfortunate timing choked the plan, without question. It dropped in March 2020, which, of course, brought us the onset of the COVID-19 global pandemic. Everything halted and shifted resources and priorities towards stayin’ alive. Since then, thanks in large part to a tsunami of federal relief funds, Birmingham has rebounded.
Last month, Mayor Randall Woodfin presented a record $591 million proposed 2025-2026 budget to the City Council. Accordingly, it emphasized investments in public safety (read: reducing homicides), neighborhood revitalization (i.e., addressing blight), infrastructure (potholes and paving) and youth programs (such as the recently announced Youth Sports League). All of those are important to most residents.
There is $1 million for operations at BCRI.
The city has also proposed the Birmingham Civil Rights Crossroads project, a 3-mile urban trail network reconnecting historic, yet long-neglected western neighborhoods with downtown, the Civil Rights District and beyond to Railroad Park.
Call it a potential artery through which an overlooked lifeblood will flow. Yet it is not an economic catalyst. Not a fuse, which requires more than one match.
“The challenge,” says Holloway, “has really been finding the right partners. One thing that sets Birmingham apart from the other cities is that everything centered around civil rights was really centered around people — and not just one person, but a series of people. Fast forward to where we are today, people are still looking for the mass interests of people being engaged.”
That’s a mouthful to say: Birmingham is different. It’s unique. It is it’s own best friend and own worst enemy. It’s why the city’s hallowed ground in and around Kelly Ingram Park is now little more than a stage for celebrating days like Juneteenth and not yet a catalyst for growth.
Not yet the kind of convening stage that could distinguish Birmingham amid the cacophony surrounding our history. Around what happened here.
And be a platform for economic opportunity, which is why the children marched.
That can change. It must. Now.
Let’s be better tomorrow than we are today. My column appears on AL.com, and digital editions of The Birmingham News, Huntsville Times, and Mobile Press-Register. Tell me what you think at [email protected], and follow me at twitter.com/roysj, Instagram @roysj and BlueSky.
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