Early on Election Day in 1871, a Black man named Octavius V. Catto, a celebrated schoolteacher in Philadelphia – no, not Mississippi, the other one in Pennsylvania – went out to vote. Catto was a well-known fighter for racial justice in public places and a leader for voting rights in the area.
As the story goes, he left after voting and returned to his school. While on his lunch break, he learned of angry folks roaming the streets, rioting against Black people for voting.
Out of concern for the safety of the schoolchildren, he sent them home. It would be the last class Catto would ever teach. An anti-Black voting rights vigilante shot and killed him that evening as he walked home.
It’s stories like Catto’s, and many others of the early voting rights struggle, that drive me to the polls despite bad weather, illness or a lack of fervor for who or what’s on the ballot. I owe it to those heroes and others to vote. In fact, this should push all Americans to vote.
This is not the first time I have written a column urging people, especially people of color, to vote and select who and what they want. Just vote. I felt sad last week when findings showed low turnout in early voting in Louisiana leading up to today’s elections.
I think all people should vote. But, I feel my situation, and that of those like me, is wholly different. The thought of people who died and those who knew death could be an outcome of their actions yet were willing to accept that risk is a huge impetus. We have a responsibility to take advantage of what they died for.
Thinking about them stops me from being disinterested, especially now, as many state legislatures across the country are trying to devise ways to make it difficult for people like me to vote. Even more, to dilute Black voting strength.
Some political scientists suggest numbers are down because there are not enough Black candidates on the ballots. My recommendation? Go vote anyway and select the lesser of five evils among the candidates, because make no mistake: One of them is going to have an impact on your daily lives.
Veda Morgan, a writer for the Louisville Courier Journal who reflected on the valiant effort and deadly outcomes of her forefathers’ effort to vote, said, “Shame on me if I don’t honor their memory, their struggle, their sacrifice. Shame on me if I don’t vote.”
Amen, and I beg others to feel the same way.
In a recent conversation, a woman said to me: “There’s just nothing that gets my attention. You can see how it’s going to turn out.”
She didn’t vote early and was contemplating whether she would vote at all because she had “a lot to do” Saturday.
I wonder how history would have changed if the late Congressman and Civil Rights leader John Lewis and others had decided to go to a football game or to a barbecue rather than crossing the Edmund Pettus Bridge on what would become known as “Bloody Sunday.”
My message is that I owe them. I’ve got to vote on everything. No measure on the ballot is too small or boring.
I had a glimmer of hope at my church Sunday. Members of the congregation were asked to stand if they had voted early. Nearly two-thirds of the congregation stood. A couple others mentioned they would vote absentee. “Now Rev., that’s a voting church,” one member responded.
With football games and other activities going on today, I hope many people took the time to vote.
Wouldn’t it be great if 60% to 70% turned out? Maybe that’s wishful thinking, but I feel it should be the norm for Black voters.
I hope the echoes of the many murdered voting rights champions will nudge some people to the polls.
By the way, Octavius V. Catto’s killer was arrested and brought to trial in 1877. A jury ruled him not guilty. It’s why I vote.
Email Edward Pratt, a former newspaperman, at epratt1972@yahoo.com.