Oral History Interview with Joe Graves

BETSY BRINSON: This is an interview with Joe Graves at his office in Lexington, Kentucky. The interviewer is Betsy Brinson.

BRINSON: Why don’t you just say a word or two for me . . .

JOE GRAVES: Yes, I’m happy to be interviewed by Betsy Brinson about the Civil Right, Civil Rights Movement.

BRINSON: Okay. [interruption] Well, thank you very much, uh--may I call you Joe?

GRAVES: Please, and may I call you Betsy?

BRINSON: Please do. Please do.

GRAVES: Okay. Good.

BRINSON: Well, this is—I’m very pleased that you agreed to do this because I have to tell you since I started it last November, your name has come up any number of times, most recently with Galen Martin. And he said to me, “You know, you really need to go talk to Joe.” He said, “He wasn’t on our state commission, but he was very active over there in Lexington,” and whatnot. And then others since then have said the same too so--well you have just an incredible resume with all kinds of experiences. I want to focus more on your involvement with Civil Rights and Human Rights today, but just to begin, Joe, could, could you tell me where and when you were born?

GRAVES: Yes, I was born in Lexington on May 1st, 1930.

BRINSON: Okay, so that makes you . . .

GRAVES: Sixty-nine.

BRINSON: . . . almost . . .

GRAVES: Makes, almost seventy, that’s right. That’s correct.

BRINSON: And, um, could you tell me a little bit about your, your family background, your education, growing up?

GRAVES: Well, I went to school in a small, uh, school here called University High. We had a great history teacher named Anna B. Peck who, uh, really inspired a lot of us to love history. And I remember her definition of freedom. She, she asked us each in the class one day to try to define freedom, and we struggled with that answer. But she pointed out that freedom was--your freedom stops where my nose begins. And, I, I guess, uh, my parents, uh, always were fair-minded people, and--and were a good example. I grew up with, with lots of black friends who either worked for my family or my grandparents, and knew their children; and I think maybe my generation became even closer to black people than maybe current generations in a way ‘cause those people were kind of a member of the family. And, uh . . .

BRINSON: We’re talking about the thirties and the forties?

GRAVES: Yes, thirties and the forties.

BRINSON: So you had the Depression . . .

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: . . . World War II . . .

GRAVES: I can remember when I was about nine years old, I was visiting my grandparents on Cumberland Island, which is off the coast of Georgia; and I think they--looking back on it--I think they hired this little black boy to look after me because they didn’t want me to get off the road and be bitten (laughing) by a rattlesnake. And he and I became really good friends and even have continued to be friends. Uh, uh, uh, I still see him whenever I’m in that area. But I remember, uh, it was lunch time one day. and it was our policy when I was down there, when our cousins were there, we always invited them for lunch or we, they invited us in for lunch. So my aunt called me to have lunch. She was standing on the front steps, and I was out with William Hosendorf; and so I turned away and said, “Hey, William, come on in and have lunch with me.” And so when my aunt called me again, I said, “I’d like to bring William in to have lunch with me.” And, you know, if that had been a cousin, it would have been no problem; but she was kind of silent (laughing). And, uh, so then as I got closer—we walked toward the house—she said, “I believe William’s parents would rather he have lunch with them.” I thought that was a little odd, and then William said, “Oh, that’s right, Joe.” He said, “I’m sure my parents really want me to come have lunch with them.” I think that was the first little intimation I had that there was something different. Uh, I think white people of my generation were very slow to realize the damage that that system of segregation did to black people.

BRINSON: Okay. I want to ask you about University High School because that’s not one that I know about. Is it still in existence?

GRAVES: (laughing) No, it’s not. It was started by the University of Kentucky, uh, sort of an adjunct to their Department of Education; and they used it to train, uh, teachers, student teachers.

BRINSON: How big of a school was it?

GRAVES: It was small. The whole school from kindergarten through senior class was about three hundred students.

BRINSON: And how many in your graduating class?

GRAVES: I guess we had probably twenty-eight . We were pretty close. We had a fiftieth reunion recently, and over half of the graduating class was back for that reunion.

BRINSON: And for the time, it would have been an all-white school?

GRAVES: All white, correct.

BRINSON: But a good school.

GRAVES: Good school. Yes, it was good.

BRINSON: Usually those university-affiliated schools have been good.

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: Uh, I wondered about your, your family name, Graves, and whether your—I know there’s a Graves County in Kentucky.

GRAVES: Yes, there’s a Graves County in Kentucky. Uh, our, our family—well, one of my grandfathers was an immigrant from Ireland; another was a second-generation immigrant from Scotland. Uh, the Graves’, I believe, came from England and, uh, had been in Kentucky for a long time. I was looking on the plaque at Christ Church the other day and thinking about, uh--I think I’m probably the fifth generation that’s gone to that church; so we’ve been here a long time. My family had a clothing store here with the Cox family; it was called Graves-Cox and Company. It was a fine men’s specialty store and, uh, started by my grandfather and his partner. And when I got there after graduating from Transylvania in 1952, uh, we had some black people working there; but they weren’t working as sales people. There were no black sales people in Kentucky in, in conventional retail stores. And we had an exceptional man there who--one day when we were driving home from work--I drove him home from work because he, uh--this man had gone not only to college but had gone to medical school. And his wife had had a stroke about the time he graduated from medical school so he couldn’t complete the work to become a doctor. So he came to work at Graves-Cox where his father had worked before him. And as we drove home, uh, he told me that he was going to have to leave and go to work for the post office department because they had good opportunities for black people. And I was just devastated. So the next day I talked to my father and his partner and I said, “You know, we’re about to lose this man.” And they were just thunderstruck because he just was so exceptional. So we decided in 1957 to promote him to salesman. I’m sure he was the first black salesman in Kentucky in a major retail store.

BRINSON: Tell me his name.

GRAVES: His name was Ferdinand Garner. F-E-R-D-I-N-A-N-D Garner.

BRINSON: Did he go by Ferdinand?

GRAVES: Yes. Right. And I remember the conversation when my father and his partner and I were talking. Uh, father’s partner, Leonard Cox, said, “Well,” he said, “Do you think we ought to ask the other salesmen how they would feel about this change, ‘cause it is quite a change.” And I remember suggesting to him that we didn’t ask our salesmen when we promoted white people, and it would be better [laughing] not to ask them cause we would surely get some who wouldn’t like it. So we just announced the, uh, promotion; and within six months, he was our third leading salesman. The word really got out. We already had a lot of black customers because we treated people well. But when he, uh, when he became a salesman—we not only, he not only was extremely well received by the black community, but the publisher of the newspaper at that time, Fred Wachs, who was a very conservative person in terms of race relations, uh . . .

BRINSON: Fred Wachs?

GRAVES: Wachs. W-A-C-H-S. He was publisher of the newspaper. He, uh, he just was delighted to have Ferdinand wait on him. He just was such an excellent person, so . .

BRINSON: Do you think you lost any business as a result?

GRAVES: We probably did, but, you know, there’re always wins and losses in every change. But the, uh--it made me very proud of our organization.

BRINSON: How big was your sales force at that time?

GRAVES: We probably had--at that time, we just had one store location; we probably had ten commissioned salesmen. The distinction was that, you know, every store at that time, at least, had salespeople who were not on commission, who were just paid salary. But the ones who really made the money were the commissioned salesmen. That’s why it was an opportunity for Ferdinand, because he ended up making more with us than he would with the federal government. So . . .

BRINSON: Do you recall—was there any opposition from the sales, other salespeople?

GRAVES: Well. (chuckle)

BRINSON: But you had a period of adjustment, I guess to . . .

GRAVES: Well, there was but—we, I think we had a marvelous rapport with our employees, and I think they would say that. It was a family-owned business; we were very close to our people. Uh, no one ever retired at Graves-Cox. They just kept on working and we took care of them. But, uh, I think they realized that management was squarely behind this, and it would not be prudent to [laughing] cause any difficulty.

BRINSON: I’m interested that, that he had been to medical school. Do you happen to remember where?

GRAVES: No, I don’t. Of course, it wasn’t in Kentucky. Uh, it was someplace in the North. It’s amazing to me—that’s another amazing thing about that time. Now his father worked at Graves-Cox, and then worked for us, uh, as a chauffeur, and--and, uh, I guess you’d say as a domestic person—we never thought of him like that—but his mother, Ferdinand’s mother, was a teacher. They raised three children on their combined salaries. All three of them became professionals. Uh, the two sisters became teachers and I just--it’s just amazing to me that on their joint incomes they could do that, but they had, they owned their own home. It was, you know, a strong family.

BRINSON: Is he still living?

GRAVES: No, he’s, he’s deceased.

BRINSON: Okay. Or his wife?

GRAVES: No, she died before he did. She was, she had become an invalid before—that’s why he had to drop out of medical school. I don’t know . . .

BRINSON: Are any children living?

GRAVES: They didn’t have any children, and I think his sisters—I tried--we had a portrait painted of Ferdinand’s father. Uh, my mother had it for a long time and then when she died, we gave it to a member of, uh, Ferdinand’s father’s family. I, I’ve tried to run that down because it’s a great portrait.

BRINSON: That would be a great artifact for an exhibit.

GRAVES: Oh, it would. I wish I could . . .

BRINSON: The first black salesperson.

GRAVES: Yeah. Well, now this was the father. The painting was of the father.

BRINSON: Oh, the father. Okay.

GRAVES: Right. I’ll see what I can find. I’m afraid I don’t--I’m not even sure I have a picture of Ferdinand. But, uh, I’ll . . .

BRINSON: I want to go back to your family.

GRAVES: Yes.

BRINSON: Did you have any brothers and sisters?

GRAVES: I have a sister, uh huh.

BRINSON: And are you younger or older?

GRAVES: I’m older, two years older.

BRINSON: Okay. Tell me about your mother a little bit.

GRAVES: Well, uh, she was a granddaughter of--let’s see, she was a grand--she was a granddaughter of Thomas Carnegie, who was the younger brother of Andrew Carnegie. That’s why we were going to Cumberland Island, ‘cause that was an island the Carnegies owned. Uh, she, uh—her father was actually, uh, an Irishman who immigrated to this country. Her mother, as I mentioned, is a granddaughter of Thomas Carnegie. She was a very quiet woman, and she became very interested in historic preservation. [laughing] And she and my father started the Bluegrass Trust here and—to save the Hunt Morgan house; it was about to be torn down. And she, uh--when I was a city commissioner--it was a turbulent time from the standpoint of civil rights but also for historic preservation. Uh, there was a great move to tear down a lot of buildings along High Street; and she sat down in front of a bulldozer to stop that work, and her picture appeared [laughing] with the bulldozer, the bulldozer operator, in The New York Times. And I can remember being in a meeting at City Hall, as a city commissioner, and the police chief came in—he was bustled in—and said, “Well, we’re having trouble on High Street. Those protestors are trying to stop the demolition.” He looked over at me and said, “Commissioner Graves’ mother has sat down in front of a bulldozer!” (laughter) So it was . . .

BRINSON: It sounds like you come from a family, Joe, of people who were willing to take a stand.

GRAVES: I think that’s true.

BRINSON: How about your sister?

GRAVES: Well, she, uh, she’s very strong. She’s just not—I’m more of a public person. I’m willing to sort of be more out front, but she’s equally courageous or, uh . . .

BRINSON: Okay. I notice that you went to William and Mary for a year and then came back and, uh, did the rest of your college at Transylvania.

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: What brought you back home?

GRAVES: Well, let me just say this about William and Mary: it was a marvelous school. As you know, Phi Beta Kappa started there and, uh, I really liked it. It was particularly touching for me to uh, uh go to classes in the Wren Building where Thomas Jefferson had gone to, to, uh, school, and I loved Williamsburg. But I really, really loved the, uh, thoroughbred horse business; and I wanted to come back to Kentucky and work in, go to Transylvania, uh, because I wanted to work every afternoon in the horse business, which I did. I took classes in the morning at Transylvania then worked on horse farms in the afternoon, and almost went into that industry when I got out of college. So . . .

BRINSON: But you didn’t.

GRAVES: I did not.

BRINSON: You went into the family business.

GRAVES: Right. Which made me more of an urban person. One thing I noticed about the horse people is that, you know, they’re out on the farms; and they’re not as involved in urban problems as I really wanted to be. So . . .

BRINSON: Tell me a little bit about what you recall of the early demonstrations here in the sixties.

GRAVES: Well, I do recall some demonstrations and, and—this recollection is not necessarily in sequence, but I can remember walking out of our store down past Walgreen’s, which was near our store. And I looked in and I could see the lunch counter. And there were four very distinguished, well-dressed, black ministers sitting at that lunch counter; and some of them I, some of them I knew. And I knew that was a pivotal time because the lunch counters had not been integrated. And, uh . . .

BRINSON: This would have been on Main Street?

GRAVES: On Main Street. So I had to go—I was doing some, on some errand, so I, I walked on. I started to go in and then--but there were some other people around there, and I thought, “Well, I’ll just go on and do what I had to do.” As I came back, they were still there; and that was maybe twenty-five minutes they had not been served. So, uh, I went back to the store and then I came back in about half an hour to check, and they were gone. And I walked in—it was a lunch counter where I had lunch from time to time, so I asked the manager, said, “How—what happened here?” He said, “Well,” he said, “really I wanted to serve them, Joe, but . . .” he said, “. . . I just, I had to check with the home office cause I didn’t want to lose my job by making a policy change without permission.” And he said, “I called the, uh, uh, the home office, and they said go ahead and serve them.” So he served them and that was, that was—that took care of that.

BRINSON: Was that before or after the, uh, sit-ins started nationally?

GRAVES: The sit-ins started nationally . . .

BRINSON: February of 1960. Actually, they started in other places before then but when they first began to be recognized was at Greensboro . . .

GRAVES: I see, uh huh.

BRINSON: . . . North Carolina in February of 1960.

GRAVES: When did they start in Kentucky?

BRINSON: Well, that’s what I’m not entirely clear. I had some, some thought that maybe there were sit-ins as early as 1957 in Lexington, but I haven’t been able to really document that for sure. But I’ve had several people tell me that they thought there were some sit-ins here before things started nationally.

GRAVES: I wish I could help you there. I really don’t know. I don’t think this was that early.

BRINSON: Okay.

GRAVES: Uh, I do remember, I was—the other thing about demonstrations I remember, we had a police, not a police chief--we had a police judge named Richard Moloney, was about my age, and he was very strong for civil rights. His father had been in the legislature, was in the legislature, I guess, and, uh, Irish-Catholic, great sense of humor. And we used to kind of talk about the power structure, how they were against change and so forth. And so he called me one day and said, “Joe, we are really concerned about the demonstrations in front of these theaters downtown.” The Congress of Racial Equality was demonstrating before these theaters. He wasn’t really so concerned about that, but what was happening is that people were driving by and yelling obscenities and throwing things at them. And he just thought it might really start riots so he asked me to serve—and I have some notes here—he asked me to serve on what became known as the Lexington Human Rights Committee. That was created in 1960 and the other co-chairs of that group—I became a co-chair--was Homer Nutter who was a Baptist minister and his church is right up here on Short Street.

BRINSON: Was he black or white?

GRAVES: Black, black. Then the other, another member, another co-chair was—I’m not sure if he was a co-chair—but Dr. J. Farah Van Meter. He later—he was a prominent doctor; he later served on the city commission. He’s actually related to Foster Petit distantly. And then a third man was James Angel, A-N-G-E-L, who was head of the First Presbyterian Church up the street. And there were other people on there. There were black, black folks. So we met up at, uh, Christ Church; Robert Estill was then rector of Christ Church, and he made it possible for us to meet up there in the parish house. And we’d get these members from CORE to come to the meeting and the theater managers. And we had a series [laughing]--we took turns being chair, and I can remember it was very, it was a high-pressure situation. Feelings were very strong and we were trying to keep the feelings, you know, down or at least cool so we could talk about this thing.

BRINSON: Who came to the meetings? How many people?

GRAVES: Well, there’d probably be fifteen people there, and it was, it was informal in the sense that if several, uh, if several people from CORE wanted to come that was fine. If they wanted to bring three others, why we always welcomed whoever was there.

BRINSON: But then were there people from the theaters?

GRAVES: Yeah, local managers. What became apparent to me, Betsy, was that the local managers really were open to integrating but they were concerned that—with them, it was an economic issue. They were concerned if they let black people in, they’d lose white people; and it would be, you know, kind of a net loss, and they would be in jeopardy with their superiors. All the theaters were owned by out-of-town chains so, uh--I can remember—there was a theater out in Chevy Chase called Ashland Theater which was kind of a neighborhood theater, and the manager there was, was at our meeting one day. And this young black woman—she was not obviously black; she was obviously dark complexioned--and she may have been from India, but she was going to UK. And so he was explaining why his theater segregated, why he was worried that if it became integrated the other whites would leave and so forth. So she said, “Well, that, that is interesting for me to hear your explanation because I went to your theater, uh, last Friday night; and this fellow got up—he was sitting over here--and he got up and walked all the way over across the room and looked at her very closely.” And then he walked all the way back and he said, “If I had known you were a nigger, I wouldn’t have let you in.” And I thought the room was going to explode. But then he, he, he used the word in a way that’s, that was not, oddly enough, was not offensive. You know, it was—and I think everybody present felt that he was maybe not up to the mark in terms of maybe a peer so, for some reason, for whatever reason, it didn’t become a, it didn’t become a really bad situation. What we finally—we worked and worked—we even agreed to have integration every other day to see how that would work. And we—they said, “Okay, we’ll integrate on Monday, Wednesday and Fridays and not on Tuesday, Thursdays and Saturdays. We’ll see how that works.” Well, you know, we thought it was kind of ridiculous to try it but that was their first step so, so, so they . . .

BRINSON: So you did try that?

GRAVES: Yeah, I think they tried it and then they thought--I think they reached the conclusion, ‘Hell, this is silly.’ So they just opened it up, and that was the end of it.

BRINSON: Do you remember how long you had that every other day?

GRAVES: I don’t think it lasted very long ‘cause it was so--you know, how could they ( ) it? I mean, it was, it was just not—but it was a genuine attempt on their part to move forward, to try things. They probably—between our meetings up there in the parish house, they were probably calling the home office and saying, “Look, we want to try this.”

BRINSON: Right. Who, who actually called for convening this committee?

GRAVES: Richard Moloney, Jr.

BRINSON: Okay.

GRAVES: He’s the . . .

BRINSON: So it came from . . .

GRAVES: Came from a local official, he’s the local police judge, young guy.

BRINSON: Do you remember any of the CORE leaders who were active then?

GRAVES: Let’s see, Homer Nutter’s dead, and another woman who was very active in CORE; Julia Lewis, just died within the last year. Uh, I’ll tell you somebody who you really ought to interview and that’s the man at Pleasant Green Baptist Church. They have a little museum up there with photographs of, probably this, this time, in Lexington’s history. But they have photographs of their members in the past. That church was a leader in the, in the civil rights movement.

BRINSON: Is there a particular individual there?

GRAVES: Yes, uh, let’s see. His first name is Ted, or Theodore, uh, and I tell you what, if you drive by the sign, you know, the church sign, you’ll see his last name, or I may think of it.

BRINSON: And the church is . . . ?

GRAVES: Pleasant Green Baptist Church on Maxwell Street.

BRINSON: Maxwell, okay. Okay. Uh, let me ask you about a few names of people who I know were affiliated with CORE.

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: You mentioned Julia Lewis. Audrey Grevious?

GRAVES: Yes, remember Audrey.

BRINSON: Okay, what can you tell me about her?

GRAVES: Oh, it’s been a long time. I just—my impression was that she was a strong-minded, uh, fair-minded person who was determined to move things forward.

BRINSON: Okay, and Julia Lewis, I believe, was a nurse?

GRAVES: You know, I’m not sure about her profession. I know that she was physically a very large person. And I can, I can remember that they were trying to integrate the Phoenix Hotel, which I guess was right down here where Phoenix Park is, and they, uh, CORE had, had some sit-ins in the lobby. The police were called, and she, uh, she refused to leave. And they had to carry her out and I, I think maybe there was a picture of her in the paper, or I have some picture in my mind, of their carrying Julia physically out of the building. And she was a member of that Pleasant Green Baptist Church.

BRINSON: Okay.

GRAVES: There was also--let’s see, there was a family--the minister of that church then was a man named Jones. Have you--is his name--have you run across him?

BRINSON: No.

GRAVES: That was a distinguished family, black family in Lexington; and I knew, I know, I got to know his sons really well. His son, Clayton Jones, is still alive and he was—you could ask . . . well, he was, I believe, the first executive director of the Kentucky Human Rights Commission so Galen Martin will know him.

BRINSON: Right. I do remember his name now. Uh, he was an attorney I believe.

GRAVES: That’s right. He is, yeah. Right.

BRINSON: I don’t know if he was the first director, but he worked with Galen and the attorney there.

GRAVES: Yes, yes. Maybe that’s it.

BRINSON: May have worked there before he became an attorney.

GRAVES: Yeah, he now lives in Atlanta. And that--I maybe could find that phone number for you, but he could give you some interesting—he could tell you about a lot of the black people who were involved. And he . . .

BRINSON: How about the name Abby Marlette?

GRAVES: Yeah, I remember her. White. Uh, she would, at that time, would have been considered radical by many people. Uh, she had somewhat that aura about her. Uh, but, uh . . .

BRINSON: And she was affiliated with the University of Kentucky, I believe?

GRAVES: That’s right.

BRINSON: A teacher?

GRAVES: That’s right.

BRINSON: Were there a lot of University of Kentucky people who were involved locally?

GRAVES: I tell you somebody who I, I think it might be fun for you to talk to is a man named Oberst. Have you heard about him?

BRINSON: Paul Oberst?

GRAVES: Yeah.

BRINSON: I tried but his health is such that he won’t give me an interview.

GRAVES: Oh, really? Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sorry to hear that.

BRINSON: I wanted to actually ask you what you could tell me about him.

GRAVES: He was really a pillar of strength. Bob Estill can tell you more because Bob was Chairman of the Kentucky Human Rights Commission; Paul was on that. But Paul, uh, he just brought such an even temper--he was strong for the cause but he was temperate, highly credible and a member of the faculty of the law school out there. So he just brought a lot of strength, I’d say, to the effort.

BRINSON: How about, uh, were there UK students that you recall that . . . mentioned the Indian woman from the meeting but you think the . . .

END OF TAPE ONE, SIDE ONE

START OF TAPE ONE, SIDE TWO

BRINSON: . . . being involved in demonstrations and sit-ins?

GRAVES: I’m sure there were but I just don’t really have any recollections of names or . . . but, uh . . .

BRINSON: . . . or high school students because, of course, in many places . . .

GRAVES: Yeah.

BRINSON: . . . high school students were very involved.

GRAVES: Right. There may have been. I really--but I just don’t know.

BRINSON: Okay. How long did this committee stay in existence?

GRAVES: It’s one of these committees that just worked really hard until the task was accomplished; and then, uh, when the, when the movies integrated, I guess we never met again cause that was our, our, our challenge was to work that out. [interruption]

BRINSON: Okay. You mentioned Bob Estill whom actually I have interviewed in Raleigh.

GRAVES: Oh, you’ve already interviewed him?

BRINSON: I’ve interviewed him but, uh, I’m going back next week.

GRAVES: Good.

BRINSON: Uh, so I’ve, I’ve heard some of his stories. Because the fortieth anniversary of the Kentucky Commission on Human Rights is this year, . . .

GRAVES: Oh, I see. Good.

BRINSON: . . . I’ve been interviewing the early leadership of the Commission . . .

GRAVES: Yes, yes.

BRINSON: . . . and he has told me some of the stories here in, uh--I remember one he told me. He said he was in a demonstration, and there must have been some black children that were part of the demonstration here, uh, because one of the young boys, five or six, really had to go to the bathroom.

GRAVES: Huh.

BRINSON: And there was no place to go so he took him over to the Phoenix and asked, I guess the doorman or somebody there who knew, uh, Reverend Estill, if he would take this young boy inside and let him use the facilities . . .

GRAVES: Yes.

BRINSON: . . . and, and Reverend Estill sort of laughed that this was the first young black who integrated the Phoenix Hotel. [laughter] I guess the man accommodated him. So, uh . . .

GRAVES: He’s got a great sense of humor.

BRINSON: What can you tell me about him? He was your minister . . .?

GRAVES: Yeah, he was. I’ve known him for a long time. He became minister of Christ Church when he was twenty-nine years old. My father was on the search committee; my father was on the vestry and the search committee. They were looking at—they were considering various respected ministers, and somebody on the search committee said, “Well, that—you know, Bobby Estill, uh, grew up in this parish. We all love him, but he’s, he’s so young for this job; he’s only twenty-nine.” And my father said, “Well, if that’s his only drawback, he’ll outgrow it.” [laughing—Brinson] So, uh, but anyway, they hired Bob Estill, and a lot of us campaigned for him. I mean, to try to get the vestry to take him. And, uh, he just, he’s really, uh, gifted, brilliant, so funny, absolutely charming. Uh, he really revitalized that church; and people cared so much about him personally that they could take some pretty difficult messages, [laughing] like integration and so forth. I remember at one point during the integration of Lexington he hired a black, uh, a black secretary, and that caused some commotion. And one prominent man who had been a member of the vestry said that, uh, wrote him and said, “If he didn’t fire the woman, he was going to try to get Estill fired.” That was a, that was a pretty strong thing to do because Bob was pretty popular, and of course, this man was pretty prominent. But, uh, the vestry, you know, they didn’t do that and, uh . . .

BRINSON: Do you think that man withdrew from the vestry?

GRAVES: No, he didn’t. Well, he, he was a former vestry member anyway and he, he continued to be a member of the church. And I think it was just something he did; he was angry. But, but he and Bob, you know, were reconciled. But, but I was thinking about something the other day, Betsy, that was very moving about him. He and I both fox-hunted together; we liked to ride horses. We belonged to the Iroquois Hunt Club, which is a club for people who fox hunt in the area down here and toward Athens. And there were a lot of black people who served as waiters down there at that club, the hunt club, Iroquois Hunt Club; and, of course, the cooks were black. And what we found out later is that when the members were down there at cocktail parties and drinking—of course, they’d talk about various issues—well, the black people, of course, were serving those drinks. And they heard and also realized--they knew who the bigots were and who the good guys were, from their point of view. And that word kind of got back in the black community so there was a little network there of intelligence. But, anyway, uh, when Bob Estill was called to go to Louisville, we had a party for him at the hunt club. I guess it was a small group of us wanted to have him there for dinner; and, uh, we were, I guess, maybe ten people at this table, and we were having this party. And, and there were a lot of other people there at this club just having their own dinners or whatever. So it wasn’t a high-profile party or anything. So just as we were about, just as the meal was, uh, concluded, our waiter said, uh, he said, “We have a present for Mr. Estill.” And, uh, so, I guess—I think he was talking to me and I said, “Well, that’s fine.” He said, “We have something we want to bring him.” The cooks came out with a big cake. They all stood around that table and they said, “Thank you Mr. Estill.” You know, the other people wondered what in the world was going on—I think they probably figured it out. But, I thought . . .

BRINSON: They were thanking him for his contributions . . .

GRAVES: His work, yeah. So . . .

BRINSON: . . . opening up the community. That’s a great story.

GRAVES: That’s a true story and it’s a—there were some great moments in that civil rights movement.

BRINSON: You talk about the intelligence network and, actually, what I’m reminded—I’ll tell you very quickly, there’s a story out of Richmond, Virginia history during the Civil War with Jefferson Davis and the, uh, his home, and the Confederacy and a young black woman named Mary Bouser who served his table. Uh, but she had actually been a former slave, had been freed and sent North and was educated and brought back by the family—Elizabeth Van Loo family—and she, uh, she served table. But she listened to the conversation and then she took what she learned and gave it to Elizabeth Van Loo, took it to the Union forces (laughter). So . . . that’s really interesting to think about because, of course, the black community has had this intelligence . . .

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: . . . network and they’ve been part of conversation . . .

GRAVES: Sure.

BRINSON: . . . and they’ve been privileged to hear conversations.

GRAVES: Sure, or the object of conversations.

BRINSON: Right.

GRAVES: Yeah.

BRINSON: Hmm. There’s some interesting questions there.

GRAVES: Yeah.

BRINSON: I wonder if, Joe, you remember a group called the Lexington Committee on Religion and Human Rights that was active here, uh, at all? I haven’t been able to find much in their records; I think it came out of the seminary. This is a letter. Actually you can see some of their leadership identified. I’m especially interested in a woman named Laura Massey.

GRAVES: Oh, yes. I knew her. Yeah, I know a lot of these people, in fact, most of them. Uh, let’s see, I knew W.H. Powells was a black minister. James Angel I mentioned to you; he was minister of the Presbyterian Church. Paul Oberst is—of course, Mrs. Paul Oberst is here. Pauline Gould Gay is a black woman who is very active, uh, in civic matters here. O.M. Travis . . .

BRINSON: Now, is Pauline Gay still living?

GRAVES: I don’t think so. No.

BRINSON: Okay.

GRAVES: No. O.M. Travis, uh, was a black businessman here and actually he--I think he ran against Foster Petit once for the legislature. Foster was, won. Stanley Rose, uh, is a, was, is a Jewish man; I know his son. Stanley was active in civil rights. Dr. Biggerstaff was a black dentist, I believe. Reverend O.B. Garner, of course, was a black minister. Miss Marian Sprague, uh, I believe she was, or, or, she and her husband . . . I think her husband was a doctor, and she may have been affiliated with the University of Kentucky. Um, let’s see who else . . . Gene Mooney is a local attorney who is still alive. Harold Dees, I guess is a black attorney. Miss Irv Rosenstein, she and I worked together with the National Conference of Christians and Jews, and she’s still alive. A very nice woman. Hershel Wheel, prominent member of the Jewish community. Uh, Rabbi Lefler--you may have heard of him; he was, uh, Rabbi here who was very, considered very liberal and he was ahead of his time, certainly in civil rights.

BRINSON: He’s--is he living, do you know?

GRAVES: Uh, he may be but he went somewhere else. Jack Reeves was a professor of political science at UK. Very forward thinking person. Carl Lyman was a black businessman. Joseph Massey was the husband, yeah, Joseph Massey was the husband of Laura Massey. Uh, Bush Hunter was a prominent black doctor. So . . .

BRINSON: Do you remember this, uh, group playing a, like a policy role in the community in any way?

GRAVES: I, I, I’m sure they did. I just, uh--I guess I was, I guess I just don’t remember then. But that’s, that’s a high-octane group.

BRINSON: Okay. (laughing—Graves) Uh, how did you first meet Galen Martin?

GRAVES: I’m sorry?

BRINSON: How did you meet Galen Martin?

GRAVES: I guess probably through Bob Estill because Galen, Galen was Executive Director of the Human Rights Commission. That was, yeah, that’s right, and, uh, Clayton Jones was the attorney; that’s correct. Uh, when Bob was appointed to the Kentucky Human Rights Commission, uh, I guess I met Galen because he was doing some work; and we worked together on some things. In fact, even recently we worked together on some housing—or at least he called me about some housing situation. So . .

BRINSON: Do you remember any of the earlier, uh, things that you worked on with him at all?

GRAVES: I really don’t. Uh . . .

BRINSON: And were they Lexington-based or . . . ?

GRAVES: Yes, they’d be Lexington-based, yeah. Now when I was in the legislature, Galen may have contacted me. There were some civil rights legislation but that was after 1970, and I think you want to concentrate on . . .

BRINSON: Right. Okay. I remember, uh--I want to ask you, Joe, if you have any recollection of the Frankfort rally in 1964?

GRAVES: Oh, I do. Yes, I was, of course, in that with Bob Estill. A couple of things (laughing) that, uh, I remember: Mrs. Breathitt, who’s now deceased, and the two Breathitt children—I think there were two at that time. I remember they were watching the parade as we, or watching the demonstration as we marched past. I think that was the first demonstration I was ever in. It was a very interesting experience to be in a demonstration, have other people look at you with--and you knew conflicting thoughts were going through their mind about what you were doing. But I remember, uh, I was marching with Bob Estill, and there were some other members of our church; and I looked ahead in the swarm of people ahead of me, and I saw a head kind of bobbing up and down. It was almost like someone was jumping maybe every other step as they marched. I thought, “That’s kind of odd. I wonder why that is?” So, uh, I made a point at some point in the march, maybe when we stopped, uh, to, to kind of look at that person. And it was a black, young black woman probably, uh, college student or high school age. And she had a terribly deformed leg so when she was walking, almost every step was sort of—and I just—it just was a reminder to me that, uh, “Boy, black people made a lot of sacrifices and here’s one who’s--has really difficulty walking who’s in this march.” So . . .

BRINSON: What else do you remember about the day? What was the weather like that day?

GRAVES: I thought the weather was okay. It, uh, it was, it was March or April, wasn’t it?

BRINSON: Uh huh. Was it cold or rainy or . . .

GRAVES: I don’t think it was rainy and it certainly wasn’t uncomfortably cold, not unusual for that time of year. I really remember Peter, Paul and Mary. That was, that music was marvelous, and, of course, Martin Luther King’s speech was great.

BRINSON: And did all of that take place on the Capitol steps?

GRAVES: Yes, that’s my recollection.

BRINSON: Okay. Uh, were you surprised at the size of the crowd?

GRAVES: Uh, I really didn’t know what to expect. I was, I was pleased by the size of the crowd. I thought it was a important, uh, demonstration in terms of it really did make a statement that I thought would be heard because of its size.

BRINSON: Okay. And I believe at that time you were co-chair of Kentuckians for Public Accommodations legislation.

GRAVES: Right, right.

BRINSON: Tell me about that group.

GRAVES: Well, that was a group—let’s see what my notes indicate. Uh, we, yeah, we started that in 1963 or ’64. We were trying to get that legislation through the ’64 General Assembly. Uh, I, I’d love to find my file on that. The co-chair was a woman from Berea, uh, and we really—and it was kind of a statewide group; we had people from other communities, and we were trying to get legislation through in 1964.

BRINSON: How did you come together though since it was a statewide group? Was it initiated through churches or through . . .

GRAVES: I wish I could answer that question, Betsy. I just, I don’t remember but there was a lot of thought about how to—I think we realized, those of us who were active, that we needed to do something regionally at least because if we wanted that legislature to do something, it had to be more than a Lexington effort or a Louisville effort. And we had to, uh, reach out for other people. And who actually initiated that, it may have--I don’t know whether it came from . . . Was--the Kentucky Human Rights Commission hadn’t been started then had it?

BRINSON: No, no they were in existence then.

GRAVES: Maybe, maybe, you know, maybe they, maybe they encouraged it.

BRINSON: What can you tell me about the woman from Berea who co-chaired it?

GRAVES: I remember she was very capable. I wish I could think of her name. Uh, uh . . .

BRINSON: Was she affiliated with the college?

GRAVES: Yeah, with Berea College. As you know, they had, they have quite a record and . . .

BRINSON: Right.

GRAVES: . . . so she was, she, uh, she was very capable.

BRINSON: How big, uh, was this group?

GRAVES: Well, it probably wasn’t very large. You know, when you form a group to come and lobby the General Assembly, you try to get a board that’s representative. You don’t really have time to go out and get a lot of members, and build kind of a long-term organization. It was really more of a kind of an alliance to--with a special purpose.

BRINSON: Did you have meetings or was it like a network?

GRAVES: It was a network; we probably met a couple of times. But we concentrated on getting people to call legislators so it was kind of a lobbying effort really.

BRINSON: What is your recollection of that bill that went in, in 1964? What happened with it?

GRAVES: Well, since I was not in the legislature, I wasn’t, you know, as, as fully informed about that as Foster Petit, some of the others; but I guess my feeling was that the, uh, the votes just weren’t there. They weren’t really ready to take on that thing. I will tell you this story that I think is really germane. In 1963 I went to see Richard Moloney, Senior—now he’s the father of the police judge we talked about earlier—and Mr. Moloney had been very prominent in the legislature. He had been in the House and been in the Senate; and he was, I think, when I talked to him, say in November of 1963, he was probably Senate Majority Leader, and very close to Bert Combs and Ned Breathitt and that group. And, uh, I guess Ned Breathitt had just been elected.

BRINSON: In sixty-three?

GRAVES: Uh huh.

BRINSON: Uh huh.

GRAVES: And, and so I went to see him and I, I was trying to, uh--I wanted to talk to him about civil rights legislation. And he said, “Joe,” he said, “you know, I’m for it and I’m going to work for it.” And he said, “I’m very optimistic.” He said, “We have a new governor who is for it.” And Bert Combs, of course, was for it. He said, “I’m, I’m optimistic that we can get something done.” And then he died in December. And that made a big difference because he had the power and, and the know-how, you know. But the interesting thing is that Foster Petit was selected to take his place, so that’s how Foster first got to the legislature. And, of course, Foster was for civil rights but he didn’t have the clout as a freshman that this man did.

BRINSON: Right.

GRAVES: So that’s one of my recollections of that time.

BRINSON: Do you have any recollection, Joe, or sense of the community here in Lexington about that legislation in terms of pro or con? Were people divided about it, um . . . ?

GRAVES: Well, I, you know, it was just, uh--I don’t know that I heard a lot of talk about it. People were just generally divided about civil rights. I’ve thought often, Betsy, uh, why were some people on the sidelines? Why were some white people on the sidelines in this movement? Why, why, why weren’t they involved? Why were they either spectators or—I mean, I think in some ways it might be interesting for you (chuckle) to interview some people who were on the sidelines during this whole time and, and, say, “Help me understand your think-, your thoughts during this process.” Because it is a good question.

BRINSON: That’s a good suggestion.

GRAVES: Yeah, ‘cause a lot of them were on the sidelines. And then some of them were actively against it. So . . .

BRINSON: So, as I understand it, the bill failed in sixty-four . . .

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: . . . but then we had the passage of the Federal Civil Rights Act in sixty-four. And then, uh, the next session in 1966 in Frankfort, it went through almost overwhelmingly.

GRAVES: Yes. Right. Right. And Foster, I think, has given you some information about the, the people who actually tried to get the bill out of committee in sixty-four?

BRINSON: Right. He did.

GRAVES: That would be fascinating to see [laughing].

BRINSON: Uh, what do you think happened in those two years that there was so little opposition in 1966?

GRAVES: Well, I think Martin Luther King happened. Uh, I think he made a tremendous difference. I mean, he raised the consciousness of, of the whole country and, uh, I think that made a--I think Lyndon Johnson--let’s see, Lyndon Johnson was President and he was strong on civil rights. He made it a high priority of his administration and, it, uh . . . I think the country had changed. Maybe the momentum was building, you know, and building and just wasn’t quite ready to, for the wave to break in sixty-four, but in that time between sixty-four and sixty-six—I know in my little world, uh, as I mentioned, we had promoted our first black salesman in fifty-seven. I can remember that we had some other really qualified black people, and we started also promoting them into sales positions, you know, where they could make more money. And [laughing] I had two men come to see me who ran a department store here in Lexington, and they were people I’d known all my life, went to the same church; and they said, “Joe, we just, uh, we just wanted to tell you that we are, we’re kind of unhappy with, with what you’re doing because it’s, uh, it’s upsetting our employees. Because our—we’ve got some black employees and we’re fond of them, and they do a good job; but they’re not qualified to be salespeople. And they’ve heard that your store is promoting people to commission situations, and they expect us to do it. And they just, you know, they’re just not up to it.” So, uh, I say, “Well, that’s an interesting situation.” I said, “I was in your store a couple of weeks ago and I was on the elevator, and you have an elevator operator there”—and at the time I couldn’t remember her first name ‘cause her name was mentioned while I was on the elevator. And I said, “She did a terrific job of explaining to the people on the elevator what merchandise is on each floor as she went up, took them up. She was friendly and outgoing and she’s a great ambassador for your store. Now you say you don’t have anybody who’s qualified to be promoted to commissioned salespeople. We have a position open on the third floor in boys department, and I’d like to get your permission to talk to her because I could put her in a situation where she could make a lot more money than running an elevator. And we would love to have her ‘cause she’s just the kind of person I would want.” And they kind of looked at each other and they said, “Joe’s talking about . . .” you know, whatever her name is. They said, “Well, we hadn’t thought about her.” I said, “Well, I’d like your permission to talk to her.” That was about the end of that conversation. We continued to be friends, and I think she was promoted by them. But, you know, you got a little of that kind of feedback. (laughing)

BRINSON: Uh, you mind telling me the name of that store?

GRAVES: Yeah, it was Purcell’s, and the fellows who came to see me were Jeff and Holt Weideman. Holt is still alive and I, I don’t want to embarrass him.

BRINSON: Right. Wiedemann is spelled . . .

GRAVES: It’s like W-I-E-D-E-M-A-N-N.

BRINSON: Okay. Okay, I ask you that because when we transcribe the tapes it helps the transcriber.

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: Uh, I want to go back to 1963 when you worked at the polls for Harry Sykes.

GRAVES: Um huh.

BRINSON: Uh, tell me about that. Who was Harry Sykes and . . . ?

GRAVES: Well, Harry Sykes was, was--he actually was not born in Lexington; he had moved here. He had played for the Harlem Globetrotters and was about six-eight, so he was truly a commanding figure. Uh, and I’d gotten to know him some way. And then a woman named Betty Griffin was running, and Harry Sykes--and Betty was, I thought, a progressive person. I was very interested in elected office ‘cause I could see it makes so much difference, you know, who you have in there. So I told Harry that I wanted to work for him. And I worked for him--it was a precinct that’s, uh, I think it was . . . what was the name of that precinct? I think it was like Meadow Lane. And I had some things to hand out as people walked to the polls, and I remember, uh, handing, uh, this brochure, had Harry’s picture on it, to somebody, some man that was walking to the polls. He looked at me and threw it down on the ground.

BRINSON: He was white, I assume?

GRAVES: White. And, you know, put his foot on it, pushed it around. Said, “I’d never vote for a nigger. What are you talking about.” But, anyway, what the black community did, which was very smart—they were very organized, and they, uh, they

( ), kind of a single shot situation. You’re supposed to vote for four commissioners; they just voted for one. And that was organized probably by the black churches, you know. So Harry—‘cause the black population maybe was only twenty percent, you know, the registered voters—but by single shotting, uh, they made his, you know, the vote for him much more important. So he was elected.

BRINSON: He was the first black commissioner elected . . .

GRAVES: First black ever

BRINSON: . . . in Lexington.

GRAVES: Now, maybe, maybe during reconstruction there were some black people but certainly in my lifetime.

BRINSON: Tell me about Betty Griffin. Was she black?

GRAVES: She was white and she was not elected.

BRINSON: Okay. I just wanted to make sure there weren’t two blacks running for that . . .

GRAVES: No, no.

BRINSON: . . . that seat. Well I hope to interview Harry Sykes. His last name is S-Y-K-E-S, not . . .

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: Okay.

GRAVES: I’d like to tell you this if I may, that then later Harry and I ran together. We ran on the same ticket in 1967 and . . .

BRINSON: For the city commission?

GRAVES: Right. And we ran with a man for mayor, candidate for mayor named Charlie Wiley. And during that campaign in sixty-seven there was still some resentment about black folks being elected officials. And we—Harry said—we all got along really well on this ticket. Harry said, “You know, if you all feel I’m going to hurt you,” he said, “We won’t campaign together in some of these white neighborhoods.” Charlie Wiley said, “Oh no,” he said, “We’re all going to campaign together.” So we’d go out in these neighborhoods and park the car—there were five of us: four commissioners and mayor candidate. We’d each get out and go in a different direction handing out our brochure for the qualified team, whatever the team was. Well, what we found out is that the people were absolutely taken with Harry Sykes because he was a former basketball player, very tall, very likeable. So it turned out that Harry was, you know, really the most popular member of the team. So he got the most votes and the custom was in those days for the person, the commissioner who got the most votes was automatically selected as Vice-Mayor. This was before the merger. So he got the most votes so we, of course, we were--planned to make him Vice-Mayor. Well, Mr. Wachs found out about it, the publisher of the newspaper and . . .

END OF TAPE ONE, SIDE TWO

BEGIN TAPE TWO, SIDE ONE

GRAVES: . . . 1967 and, uh, when we took office, which I think was in early 1968, we elected Harry Sykes Vice-Mayor. Then, as you know, in ’68 in April, Martin Luther King was assassinated. June, Robert Kennedy was assassinated. And it was a very turbulent time. And one night I got a call about, seemed like one o’clock—I was sound asleep—from, uh, a black activist who I had met and, uh, he said, “Joe, the police and some young people out on Georgetown Street are really having a confrontation. The parents are out there; they’re mad. The young people are mad. The police, I’m worried, are going to try to arrest them.” And he said, “I need for you and Harry Sykes to come out here and see if you can’t calm this situation down ‘cause you’re the only people who can get the police to back off.” (laughing) So I said, “Sure, I’ll come out there.” As I drove out there, Betsy, I thought, “What am I doing? Where am I going? I mean, this is—but anyway, ‘cause ( ) and I had three children . . .” but anyway I got there and Harry was there. And we—the groups were, fortunately kind of standing in groups and so we’d go talk to the police and say, “Look, you know, be careful now, let’s, let’s don’t get these people more upset than they are.” Then we’d go talk to the parents and say, “Look, we’re trying to make this thing work. We’re trying to move forward in this community. Talk to your young people.” Then we’d talk to the young people and, so finally everybody went home. And Harry and I went to City Hall the next day and, boy the police chief was right in the Mayor’s office complaining about us interfering with the police, and so forth and so forth. So I can remember there was a big demonstration, national demonstration--there were going to be some national people brought in for a demonstration.

BRINSON: Here to Lexington?

GRAVES: Yeah. [clears throat] And, uh, one of our commissioners was pretty conservative and [coughs] and, well, they were concerned about the city. And they said, “Well, we better get the National Guard lined up. You know, that’s—we got to have the National Guard.” Then the, then the National Guard people, they wanted permission to have fixed bayonets. We said, “Now look . . .” We had all this discussion, you know, trying to get the police to be, uh, careful and, and so we finally, we negotiated and negotiated. Finally we got the, got them to agree to keep the National Guard out of sight and not bring them in. You know, they can be maybe five hundred yards away behind some building or something so they wouldn’t be there, be provocative. No bayonets. And, uh, so it was, it was an interesting time to be an elected official. That was my first time in elected office.

BRINSON: Well, in sixty-eight then there were riots in Louisville.

GRAVES: Yeah, right.

BRINSON: Was this after, about the same time that this was happening here in Lexington?

GRAVES: Well, I guess. You know, I’d, I’d have to go back, but I, I think what made me very proud of our community is that we did not have riots. And, I’m, I’m convinced it’s because groups like that . . .

BRINSON: Like the, uh . . .

GRAVES: Yeah. Yeah.

BRINSON: . . . the Lexington Committee on Religion and Human Rights?

GRAVES: Yeah, there were so many groups in this town organized, unorganized, black, white, uh, trying to reach out, trying to move forward without, you know, causing violence and so forth. I just think we had—kind of like the yeast that makes the dough rise. We had people—I mean there were people all over the community. I think the university deserves a lot of credit for bringing people, you know, who—because I think universities usually are a liberal influence on a town. And it was a very strenuous time but, uh, uh, I think because all these people worked on it. I had an interesting experience. Harry and I, to try to keep things, to try to do what little we could, we hit on the idea of taking ponies to the parks in the summertime—I love horses—and, and we made a deal for the city to hire a contractor who had maybe twenty ponies; he had saddles and bridles. He’d put them in a couple of trailers and take them out—we’d meet him out at Georgetown Park. Well, there were hundreds of kids out there in the summertime of sixty-eight. You know, playing basketball or . . .

BRINSON: That’s a black park?

GRAVES: Yeah, black park. And, uh, so we’d get the ponies unloaded. We’d get some of the older children to lead the ponies for the younger children. We had it all organ-, then we’d get it organized; they’d go around in a big circle, everybody would have a certain amount of time to ride. Well, in a couple of hours every kid out there had a chance to ride, or lead, or they’d help take the saddles off or put them on and help load the ponies. And then we’d go the next week maybe to another park, and we included some white parks. Uh, and I guess maybe ten years ago I was walking down Main Street, and a black guy was approaching me and he said, “Uh, commissioner, I want to—(laughing) I want to talk to you.” I said, “Sure.” And he said, “I was one of those boys that got to ride a pony for the first time ‘cause you and Harry Sykes brought them out there to Georgetown Street.” And he said, “I’ve always loved horses since and I spent some time working in the industry and,” he said, “this meant a lot to me.” So . . .

BRINSON: Right. Sounds like you and Harry worked together pretty closely.

GRAVES: (laughing) We did. We did, uh . . .

BRINSON: You mentioned the demonstration, uh, did that actually happen here in 1968?

GRAVES: (sigh) You know, I don’t know whether it did or not. That’s a good question. You might ask Harry that question.

BRINSON: Okay.

GRAVES: Boy, it was sure--we sure got word it was going to be a big demonstration but I’m not sure whether it ever did.

BRINSON: We’ve talked about some of the groups that were active, um, and there was an NAACP chapter here. Do you know anything about them? Were they involved as well?

GRAVES: I don’t know anything about the organization. I would imagine that many of the black people who we’ve talked about, who were on those lists, were probably also members.

BRINSON: Right.

GRAVES: I think that’s probably the way they were active.

BRINSON: Okay. Uh, Joe, I’m, I’m interested that, uh, you are a Republican.

GRAVES: I was. I was a Republican. I registered, uh, when Dwight Eisenhower was first, uh, nominated in 1952. My father was a Democrat, Adlai Stevenson Democrat. Uh, and maybe it was because he was a Democrat, (laughing) I don’t know; but also I had read a lot about the Republican Party, Theodore Roosevelt, Lincoln. Uh, Eisenhower, to me, was kind of an exciting figure. Uh, and there was a woman who lived in our precinct who, uh, really got me involved in precinct work. She had me working at the polls in 1952, and in 1956 I was asked to—and she was Republican and my aunt was Republican, and John Sherman Cooper was a great senator from Kentucky, liberal Republican; and my aunt was a good friend of his and I had met him. So I was drawn to the Republican Party by people like John Sherman Cooper, Nelson Rockefeller, uh, people who were, I guess, liberal Republicans. And in 1956 I was invited to come to the White House and meet with Eisenhower with a group called Vote Getters for Ike. And I remember, uh, they took us in his, in the little Oval Office there in groups of maybe ten or fifteen, and he gave us a pep talk and really the fellow had a lot of magnetism. So I was Republican all during my elected office even though I was in, of course, puts you in the minority party. But after—I remember from 1980 on I felt I was really out of step with the Republican Party and, uh, with the Reagan-Bush approach, the policy of getting the South to be anti-aggressive, I think. And I just--I remember watching the Republican Convention the year when Bush was running against Clinton, and they, uh, during prime time they let—oh gosh, what’s that guy that’s now running for the Independent Party? Uh . . . Buchanan.

BRINSON: Ross Perot?

GRAVES: No, the gay—Pat Buchanan. They let him have prime time during that Republican Convention—I guess it was after Bush was nominated—and I couldn’t believe what he said. I mean, he was talking, he was bashing gays and, and—I just thought I just cannot—if they’re going to give a guy like that prime time, I’m out of here. And I was relieved, pleased that Mrs. Bush the next day had some comments about it too. (laughing) I just checked right out . I just, I just, I’m like the guy who’s out of step in the parade. I just don’t want to be here anymore. So . . .

BRINSON: Well, I’m interested, back during some of your civil rights, uh, activity that you were Republican, and I wonder if that was not fairly unusual for the time to find a Republican being an advocate for civil rights?

GRAVES: Well . . .

BRINSON: In Kentucky anyway.

GRAVES: Well, maybe so. Uh, of course, Republicans themselves were a little unusual because we were in a minority, but there were people like John Sherman Cooper who was pretty advanced for that time. Uh, I didn’t see it kind of break down on party lines so much. Of course, the--when I ran for city commission, those were all non-partisan offices. So by the time I ran for legislature, it was 1971. When I was in the legislature for six years, it didn’t seem to me when we worked on civil rights legislation or equal rights amendment that it was a Republican-Democratic split so much. Although I must say I guess there were some more reactionary, other reactionary people in the General Assembly, probably more of them Republicans than Democrats. But . . .

BRINSON: I think I’m coming to the end. I did want to ask you about your support for the Equal Rights Amendment. Uh, you were in the legislature at that point.

GRAVES: Right.

BRINSON: Tell me about that a little bit.

GRAVES: Well, I thought that was very exciting, and it was very interesting, Betsy, because that was in the early days of the ratification. You know, it required so many states to ratify and Kentucky was one, I guess because we met, the way we were meeting, we were one of the first states to consider it. And so the opposition didn’t, hadn’t had time to really get organized. And there was a marvelous debate in the House. I can remember, uh, those of us who spoke for it dividing up what we were going to say. And I remember going to the back of the House chamber and standing, watching that debate, you know, a hundred people out there in front of you. Hearing people like George Street Boone, Joe Clarke, David Kareem, others, whoever the speakers were—really, it was a good, good debate. And we got it, we got it ratified in seventy-two; and then, uh, later, of course, the opposition got organized, and they wanted to get it unratified. By then I was in the Senate and I was always, happened to be on the Elections and Constitutional Amendments Committee in the House and later the Senate. That’s the committee that handled that kind of legislation. It had to come through our committees. And in the Senate when the people tried to deratify it, uh, we had enough votes on that Committee to stop it. And I think Thelma Stovall probably realized that—she was . . .

BRINSON: Lieutenant Governor.

GRAVES: She was Lieutenant Governor; she was for Equal Rights Amendment, and she realized that, the, the opposition was going to probably try to turn it around. And she was able to stack that Committee with people like me, and I think Mike Moloney was on there. And, of course, we just--and it just made—(laughing) it made the people furious who wanted to deratify it. Because it does make you angry in the General Assembly when you have a bill that’s in a committee that’s bottled up. And I’ve been on the other side of that; I’ve been victimized by it so, it was kind of fun in a way to say, “Well, you know, what’s sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. You all held us up on other things, now we’re going to . . .” And then when I left the, uh, legislature then it eventually was deratified, which was embarrassing to me. But . . .

BRINSON: Okay. Is there anything else, Joe, that you’d like to add about the, particularly about the sixties in Lexington and the whole civil rights effort?

GRAVES: Uh, I feel so fortunate to have been involved. I think it’s—as I look back on my life, I just can’t imagine not being involved in that effort. Um, and it’s, uh, I just, I’m so, and it was so much, it was so great to work with some of the, all of the people I worked with. And, Betsy, I don’t know whether you’re finding this true with other interviewers, but to me in some ways the civil rights movement was the high tide of good working relationships between blacks and whites. The goal was pretty clear-cut, you know: eliminate segregation. Uh, it was something that—the goal was easily definable, and something that could really bring people together. And I met black people, and other white people, who I never would have met otherwise, or never would have had the fun of working with and, and established bonds that, uh, that continue to this day. So I think it was a great time in America.

BRINSON: Well, you clearly played a, a very strong leadership role.

GRAVES: Well.

BRINSON: Well, thank you very much, Joe.

GRAVES: Yeah. Glad to. [interruption]

BRINSON: Tell me about Robert Kennedy.

GRAVES: Okay. My cousin, Tom Johnston, uh, worked for Robert Kennedy; he ran his New York office when Robert Kennedy was senator from New York, uh; and I’m close to my cousin. And Robert Kennedy, uh, apparently wanted to come to Appalachia to see that area, to see the people. So, uh, my cousin called me and said, “Joe, we are coming.” He said, “If you’d like to go on the trip, uh, loved to have you.”

BRINSON: This was in 1968?

GRAVES: Sixty-eight. Uh, and Robert Kennedy came in. In fact, my cousin has pictures of him getting off the plane here in Lexington. Carl Perkins was then the, uh, Congressman from that area, Seventh District, or Fifth District, I can’t remember which. Very prominent congressman. Robert Kennedy, uh--it was a motorcade and we, uh—that they’d all worked out the schedule. We’d stop in some small church, and they would--the people would come in to hear him. And I’ve never seen—I don’t believe I’ve ever seen an elected official establish a kind of rapport with the people that he had--that he could--he did it so quickly. He was just so open and natural, no—just such a kind of a low-key kind of guy, and I guess because of his brother he had a reputation that helped him. But it was very moving for me. I remember once, uh--and Bob Estill was on this trip, I think he was—but we got together later. I remember walking across a swinging bridge in eastern Kentucky, uh--apparently they had arranged for him to go into a cabin and talk to this woman who was sick. And I happened to be close enough that I was, went in the cabin with him; and this woman was in bed, obviously very ill. It was very dark in there and, uh, he greeted her and she kind of motioned him over. He sat on the bed, and she reached for his hand and they talked. And I’ve never seen anything like that before. So, uh, at the conclusion of the trip—now this is where I know Bob Estill was present. He was invited--my cousin was invited--Bob and I were invited, and a few other people to have dinner with the Binghams; Barry Bingham and his wife in Louisville. As you know, they ran The Courier Journal, great paper, great force for good. You know, that’s a great source of information for you. So, uh, at the dinner table that night—it was amazing to be at the dinner table, for me to be at the dinner table with Robert Kennedy and, uh, the Binghams, who I, of course, admired. And then in June he was gone. So . . .

BRINSON: Hmm.

GRAVES: So ask Bob Estill about that.

BRINSON: I will. You mentioned . . .

END OF INTERVIEW