November 7, 2025
Equal Justice Initiative, Montgomery; Celebrating Shabbat in Atlanta
Friday was a powerful day, with a couple of final stops in Montgomery. We visited two of the three memorial/museum sites of the Equal Justice Initiative (EJI) - a private, non profit organizations that provides legal representation for folks denied just treatment in the U.S. Legal system. The organization also created several memorials and museums addressing the legacy of slavery, lynching, and mass incarceration. The first site that we visited was the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, a memorial for the over 4,400 victims of racial terror lynching.
“As one walks among the markers, first the names and locations are greatly disturbing, I try to read each name, each county. The path continues. The numbers of monuments and names begin to overwhelm. The monument uses height, depth, spacing and difficulty to read to deepen the emotion. Are we moving unground to be in the graves? Are the shear numbers beyond comprehension? A display of descriptions of the “crimes” appear. The increased volume of water acts as memorial for those many not represented but lynched without notice. The blank or hard to read monuments tightly grouped over head contribute to the horror, horror for us who witness testimony of the events, and a glimpse to the terror and horror of those who lived in those times judged only by the pigment of the skin color. The sizes of the crowds listings hundreds or thousands of participants allow me to remember these horrors were fully blessed by neighbors and law. Then the faces were covered in white sheets, today with face masks. Who will stand against this continuation of our disgrace?” - Roger Keller, SCC
As we left the Memorial, the group paused in the rain, and Rabbi David led the Mourner’s Kaddish (see final photo in the above gallery), a prayer that, as he reminded the group, celebrates life and does not mention death at all.
“It seems only right and appropriate that after 3 days of warm and sunny southern weather that the skies should darken and the rain come as we made our way through the monument to the lives of thousands of known and unknown men, women and children brutally stolen by OUR forebears. That we should be made uncomfortable while witnessing and trying to fathom the depth of cruelty and hatred that led to these brutalities and that continues to this day, albeit in slightly different forms. What is our piece? What is my piece?” - Nancy Small, SCC
We continued to the Legacy Museum, which is located on the site of a former cotton warehouse in Montgomery where enslaved people were confined and eventually sold. This museum traces the history and legacy of slavery from the transatlantic and domestic kidnapping and trafficking of enslaved people, through the horrors of slavery and lynchings, through the interwoven stories of segregation and the Civil Rights movement, to the mass incarceration of Black and other BIPOC people today. It is impossible to put full words to the power of this museum (and no pictures are allowed— the images here are from a book I purchased). In my mind, it compares only to the Holocaust Memorial Museum in D.C. for its profound and moving scope and power. Among memorable exhibits and installations, there are sculptures of the heads and torsos of people, under the sounds and light of roaring waves, simulating being in the depths of the ocean and commemorating those who died in the Middle Passage, holographic “ghosts” that appear and speak only when the viewer steps close enough to the bars of the holding cells in the warehouse— including a child’s voice crying out for his mother, soil from sites of racial terror lynchings, signs barring Black people and other marginalized people from public spaces during segregation, visitor telephone stations where incarcerated Black people will tell you their stories, and a reflection room with Black heroes of the Movement and of art and music.
“At the Voting Rights Movement memorial, when I looked into the face of Jimmie Lee Jackson, who was shot while defending his grandfather and mother from a police mob, I could not stop thinking of my own family and how much I love them. I want to carry on the legacy of love left by the people who cared so much about creating a better world.” - Donley Johnson, JCOGS
Reflecting on these and other experiences, youth shared thoughts with our group (Donley’s words above), and on a blog post you can read at the JCOG website here. As the trip continues and builds in intensity, we are beginning to think about what learnings and applications we will bring home.
“What a day. It’s hard to know where to start and even harder to know how to put my feelings for the day into words. I was overwhelmed at the two museums this morning. I could not wrap my head around the fact that we can be this cruel and inhumane to each other. It made me reflect on what is happening right now in the world and then realize that it continues. We drop bombs on boats without their passengers being offered the opportunity of a trial… a death sentence because they’re accused of a crime. Sounds vaguely like lynching. We drop bombs on unsuspecting neighborhoods in Gaza because [a militant group] did something and we need to retaliate. Young people are born into a life of poverty because of their color and feel they have little chance to advance all because our forefathers thought it ok to build financial wealth they could then pass to their future generations using the blood of enslaved peoples. I’m left praying that somehow we can with God’s help, make a difference. Perhaps doing a small kindness can act as a virus that spreads to become the next pandemic.” - Ruth Roy, SCC
After a lengthy bus ride into Atlanta (and its traffic) we had the joy of sharing a meal and welcoming Shabbat at The Temple, the oldest Jewish place of worship and community in Atlanta. We worshipped and shared a couple iterations of Oneg and received a tour and presentation about The Temple’s history and connection with the Civil Rights movement. The Temple was bombed in 1958 in retaliation for then-Rabbi Rothschild’s pro-civil rights speaking and activism. The white supremacists who carried out the bombing were known and arrested, but political powers conspired to assure they went free. The Atlanta community helped The Temple rebuild from “the bombed that healed” and the congregation today is large and vibrant, with a highly regarded childcare and education center and undertaking a bold expansion to its facilities to continue serving those in greatest need in their community.
In the heaviness of encountering human suffering and cruelty, and in the joy and celebration of Shabbat, and everything between, this time together is a profound blessing.
Another well documented post. Thank you so much for sharing the power and emotions of our experience.