When the Klan Got Kicked Out of Town
The Lumbee people are a Native American tribe based in southeastern North Carolina, primarily around Robeson County. (Here’s a map.) Today, they are the largest tribe east of the Mississippi River, with more than 55,000 enrolled members. But for much of the 20th century — and still today, in some respects — the Lumbee occupied a uniquely difficult place in American society. Other Native American tribes object to their recognition, claiming that the lineage of the Lumbee is not adequately established. On the other hand, the Lumbee often face discrimination like other minority groups face — white supremacists, for example, hardly see them as “white.” As a result, the Lumbee were often left out of the social structures — and civil rights movements — that shaped mid-century American life. Still, they built their own institutions: their own churches, their own schools, their own newspaper. And when necessary, they protected their own communities.
Including standing up to — and beating — the Ku Klux Klan.
In 1956, James W. “Catfish” Cole, was the Grand Dragon of the Ku Klux Klan in South Carolina, and he wanted to expand the Klan’s reach. He formed a chapter in North Carolina called the North Carolina Knights, and by 1958, had specifically targeted the Lumbee for his campaign of hate-fueled segregation. The Lumbee, unlike most other communities of the day, was multiracial — most of their members identified as Native Americans, but some also identified as white, black, or mixed. This — and the fact that Lumbee men were dating white women — placed the tribe in Cole’s crosshairs. So he announced that, in January of that year, he would hold a Klan rallies in Maxton, NC, a few miles from the Lumbee heartland. His stated goal was to put the tribe “in its place.”
On the surface, these looked like something the Klan had done many times before: burn a cross, hoist an American flag, turn on a loudspeaker, and spew hate into the night air. The rally planned for January 18 was to be more of the same, but the biggest of the bunch. It was to be held in an open field near Hayes Pond, beside a local airport just outside Maxton. Flyers were circulated. Cole, per one historian (pdf available here), was expecting as many as 5,000 racists to show up.
They didn’t — but the Lumbee did.
Only about 50 Klansmen came to the “rally” and they were met with a tenfold amount of resistance. More than 500 Lumbee men and women showed up, many of whom were war veterans. Some came with shotguns. Some came with baseball bats. Even those who were unarmed were loud and unafraid, unwilling to yield even an inch to the bigots on the move. According to UNC Pembroke’s Museum of the Southeast American Indian, the gathered Lumbee “confronted the Klansmen, and after heated words were exchanged, shots were fired and the only light bulb knocked out, leaving the field in darkness. The Klansmen apparently disappeared quickly into the night, abandoning their fallen flag, cross, and other items for the safety of the woods.” According to the NC Department of Natural and Cultural Resources, “four Klansmen received minor gunshot injuries, but there were no fatalities. In addition, several of the Klansmen’s vehicles were physically damaged. Cole was subsequently arrested and convicted on the charge for having attempted to incite a riot.”
The incident later became known as the Battle of Hayes Pond, and a point of embarrassment for the Klan. Cole never organized another rally in the area again, and his North Carolina Knights splinted into smaller groups, disassociating with him.
Bonus fact: Many U.S. areas have an “adopt-a-highway” program where local businesses can make a donation to support highway trash cleanup. The donor typically gets a sign on the highway acknowledging the donation. In the 1990s, the Klan tried to adopt a highway in Missouri, but the government, not wanting to promote the KKK, declined the donation. The Klan sued and won, the the state got the last laugh. As Time Magazine reported, “While it lost its legal battle over the KKK’s application, Missouri’s state legislature found another way to fight back: it renamed the KKK-adopted road after civil rights icon Rosa Parks in 2000. In 2009, after a different stretch of Missouri highway was adopted by a neo-Nazi group, the state voted to name it after Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, a rabbi who fled Nazi Germany and led civil rights movements in the U.S.”
From the Archives: Superman Versus the Klan: The Man of Steal won, of course, using his unstated super power: embarrassment.