Lee Fisher, November 18, 2019

Title

interviewee

Lee Fisher

interviewer

Matthew Brazier

Date

2019-11-18

Subject

African American History

“Black List”

Community

Confederate Flag

NAACP

Oneonta, New York

Segregation

State University of New York, College at Oneonta

Williamsport, Pennsylvania

Description

Lee Fisher is the President of the Oneonta Branch of the NAACP. Fisher was born in Williamsport, Pennsylvania on May 27th, 1940. He grew up in Williamsport with his mother, father, and four brothers: Jim, Chuck, Harold, and George. Williamsport was a segregated community with many people of color holding service jobs and working at the local steel plants. Following in the footsteps of his brothers and community role models, Fisher pursued a career in education. Fisher moved to Oneonta, New York and worked nearby in the Davenport school system teaching seventh, eighth, and ninth grade social studies until his retirement in 1995. In 1992, Fisher worked as an assistant basketball coach at the State University of New York, College at Oneonta.

In 1992, in Oneonta, there was an incident where a woman was assaulted at knifepoint supposedly by a person of color. Subsequently an administrator at the State University released a list to local, county, and state police containing the names of all the students of color who attended the school and where they lived - on and off campus. In the days that followed, people of color were sought out and stopped throughout Oneonta as they were driving, walking, boarding buses, and sleeping in their residences. As an assistant basketball coach who was living in Oneonta, Fisher saw first hand the effect this had on his players, students, and community. Out of this incident, called the "black list," the provost of the State University, Grace Jones, set out to create a chapter of the NAACP in Oneonta, becoming its first President.

Fisher's recollections range from his upbringing in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, contrasting it to Oneonta, New York, to the inception of the NAACP in Oneonta out of the "black list" to its current role in the community. The contrast between the segregated upbringing of Fisher, deeply knowing the community and police, and his current life in Oneonta is interesting material. In addition, Fisher's take on the "black list" and how the memory of it affects the community today is of interest.

I interviewed Mr. Fisher at his home in Oneonta, New York. Fisher retired from his formal teaching career in 1995, but he still teaches driver's education to the greater Oneonta community and is in his fourth term as President of the Oneonta branch of the NAACP. Fisher's role as branch president, connection to the "black list," and knowledge of the community were major sources for discussion.

While transcribing, I added some words for clarity within brackets to complete sentences or mark moments of laughter, and I edited the text for grammar purposes. In addition, I removed false starts to sentences and conjunctions if they were not used to join two sentences together. At one point in the interview, Mr. Fisher's wife, Joanne Fisher, said goodbye as she headed to work. I mark her coming into the interview as another speaker, but the interaction did not warrant me stopping the recording.

Transcription

MB = Matthew Brazier
LF = Lee Fisher
JF = Joanne Fisher

[START OF TRACK 1, 0:00]

MB:
This is the November 18th, 2019 interview of Lee Fisher by Matthew Brazier for the Cooperstown Graduate Program's Research and Fieldwork Course recorded at 72 Spruce Street, Oneonta, New York. Could you tell me where and when you were born?

LF:
I was born in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, in the year 1940 on May 27th at the Williamsport hospital.

MB:
Tell me about the community where you grew up.

LF:
Well, the community of Williamsport was about, area wise, probably fifty thousand. It was an industrial complex as far as the city was concerned. A lot of factories, a lot of job opportunities. There was a railroad that ran through our city, which was the Pennsylvania railroad. We didn't live that far away from the railroad tracks, as people used to always say. We lived across the tracks, as they used to mention, because on the other side and beyond that area it was a segregated community. Most of the people of color lived in one area, and then the majority of the city was predominantly white. It was interesting growing up because of the fact that we went to all white schools with very few black teachers. I think there were maybe two, that I can recall, and one was in elementary school and only at the one school. There were approximately four elementary schools in the city. Then there were three junior highs and then it came into one large high school. I was very fortunate to be born into a beautiful family of four boys, and I was the fifth. [Our parents were] wonderful parents, just sacrificed everything for us when we look back at it. All the things that they missed out on; we were fortunate enough to have.

MB:
So, what drew you to Oneonta, New York?

LF:
Well, when I finished college in 1964, I always wanted to be a teacher. The teacher that I idolized was a man named Mr. Bruce Castner. He was our sixth-grade teacher. He was just wonderful. He was a great athlete. He took us out on the playground and just beat us up [laughter]. We played basketball. We played touch-football. We played all the sports. He was such a wonderful person, and I wanted to be like Mr. Castner. That's why I went into teaching, of course. My brothers also [went into teaching]. One of my older brothers Jim, the second oldest brother, went into teaching down in New Jersey, when he graduated from Lycoming College right there in Williamsport. Then my fourth brother Harold went into teaching. In a way, I always wanted to be a teacher. Well, there were three things I wanted to be: I wanted to be a teacher. I wanted to be a truck driver, a tractor trailer driver. I always loved that type, looking at big trucks and wanting to do that - travel around the world [laughter], around the country. Then the third one was going to be State Police, Pennsylvania State Policeman. They were the three things that I wanted to be. When they went into teaching, then that's [when] I figured I would want to pursue that, too.

So, I did my student teaching and then came to Oneonta in 1964. Because I got an interview from a principal, here, in a place called Davenport. It sounds very relaxing, you know, Davenport. When I received the letter from Mr. Haight, and the phone call, he wanted to interview. So, we interviewed in Binghamton. I did not know anything about Davenport. My dad and I got the map out, tried to find it. It was just a little dot that was on the map pointing out Davenport, and that was away from Oneonta. It wasn't right by Oneonta. So, we didn't know. We tried to figure it out by using the little scale of miles and it came out to about 12, 13 miles. I interviewed in Binghamton with the superintendent, and he was very happy with my interview. Before I could get home, he called my dad, and when I walked in the house, my dad said: “Hey, son, you got a job.” So, it was worth it. It was a long trip to Binghamton from Williamsport because there were no interstates that came up this way. That's how I got into Oneonta. I taught fifth and sixth grade, then I moved up to the junior high, and that's where I stayed. I taught social studies for seventh, eighth, and ninth grades, and I did that for 31 years. Along with coaching boys varsity basketball, and being the athletic director at one time, also being the class advisor. They were all very, very challenging positions; all of this helped to increase your salary, the more duties you took on. Then you start finding out you can't do all of these things and try to survive your coaching, especially coaching and teaching. I stepped back from the administrative athletic director and just did the coaching and teaching, and I kept the advisership of the class. That's how I pretty much got to Oneonta.

[TRACK 1, 9:32]

MB:
How did you get involved with the NAACP in Oneonta?

LF:
Well, in 1992, there was a situation that happened here in Oneonta that really got national publicity, at the State University. There was supposedly a woman, not at the University, but living off of the University campus, that was assaulted in her house at night and supposedly at knife point. This whole story really grew into a lot of confusion because, they don't know how they got in the house. At night, supposedly no lights on in the room. I think she was not actually assaulted, but someone broke into her house. So, this whole story grew. When the woman who was assaulted was interviewed by the police, because the person who supposedly assaulted her ran out of the house. There was a trail of blood that they found, like in the house. I mean on the floor, and then it went outside. Right away, the police thought they had a hot lead, so they got one of their police dogs. The police dog took the trail up to the State University. When they interviewed the assailant, I mean, the person who was assaulted, she said that the way he talked, it sounded like he was from an urban area, and she saw his hand and it was of a dark complexion. So right away, the Oneonta city police, the Otsego, and I think the Delaware, it might have been only Otsego Sheriff's department, the State Police, they all collaborated, and they converged on the State University. At the time, I had finished coaching or stopped my coaching at the Davenport School District, and I was assistant coach up at Oneonta State. A lot of our basketball players were involved, because they were in their bedrooms at like 12 o'clock at night, 1 o'clock at night, and there was a knock on the door. It was the Oneonta campus police who asked all these questions about “Let me see your hands.” They wanted to see their hands because they thought that, that person who did that was probably cut. So, this thing really, really grew to be a big question, and the question is: how did they know that the basketball team, and all the rest of the students of color, where they lived on and off the campus? Well, there was an administrator at Oneonta State that gave this list to the police. Then they canvased the entire city and the State University and had all the names, and that's where it was called the “Black List.” All those students of color were on that list and not everybody was contacted, but there was a good majority of the students [contacted]. I don't think the EOP program was in effect, which brought in a lot more students of color for the Equal Opportunity Program, the EOP.

So, this really grew. The city got involved. People were all up in arms. We're talking about '92. A lot of things were happening as far as [you] know civil rights things when this all took place. Then right away the whole city got involved. There were people that were very much: “We got to get this person.” Well, the tracing of the police dog, took them up on the campus over by the Fine Arts building. Over by the Fine Arts building, where they do a lot of projects, you know, a lot of things like that, there was a cloth that had some, I think, red paint. Supposedly the dog was sniffing this cloth, and they thought that, OK, now we got something. It didn't lead to anything. But just the way that the police canvased, even people who were getting on the bus, were leaving that city that next day. I mean, like for three or four days, there were police cars all over the city. There were several people, who'd been stopped walking on the street, of color, and asked “Who are you?”; wanted to see identification, everything like that. Then there was a group, and I can't remember the actual name of that group. I think it was a few people up at the State University dealing with civil rights, you know, dealing with discrimination and bias and so on. We met down at St. James Church and there had to be probably well over 100 people, people from the community, some people from the campus, some people from different campuses, Hartwick [College] and so on. But it was probably over a hundred people because they had to get more chairs out. We met in the gymnasium down at St. James, and that's where people wanted to talk about, what should we do about this situation? Students, especially the students of color were just up in arms. I do have a video of that incident. It brought about a lot of separation in the community, and yet it also brought the community together because there were people who felt, “Oh, that was not fair.” This case went into litigation. I think for about seven years before they came up with the statement that the person who gave the list should not be found–I don't know if you want to say guilty, but there should not be any punishment brought to him. Now, at the time he was taken off the staff. I'm not sure it was 30 days or whether it was just a couple of weeks. He was suspended with pay. This is where people were sort of upset at the fact that this took place because he was the one that released that list to the police that caused this whole thing. Was it right for him to give a list of black students, and how did you really know that individual was a black student that made the assault? When they went through the whole investigation and said how it happened, it was at night, it was an older person, she could have been confused and so on and so forth. That's how the NAACP [started], with the Provost of the State University. Mrs. Grace Jones was the very first president of the NAACP. That's how we got it started. Then there were other presidents, Nancy St. Clair, and then there was Will Perry, who became president. There was another person later, Lynn Bailey, who became president. Then I took over and let's see, this is my 1, 2, 3. This is my third term. Maybe my 4th term as president of the Oneonta branch of the NAACP. That's how we got started and we have been going ever since 1992.

MB:
Could you elaborate on your duties as president?

LF:
Well, the duties of the president are mainly trying to keep thinking about equality, fairness, trying to do away with bias, bigotry, discrimination, all those things that a person might experience and not have a voice. Sometimes people feel that, “I'll just let this go, and it's not that bad; I'll take it, it's happening to me, but I'll take it.” Now, I think the NAACP was started in 1905, the national [organization], and has been going strong ever since. I just wanted to be part of a group that would speak out. If you feel that you aren't strong enough or you want help, you need somebody to be there to question whether different events or circumstances are a form of discrimination or bias or bigotry, then that's what I wanted to do. My father was a member of the NAACP, my mother was. A lot of my neighbors down in Pennsylvania, when I was small, were part of the NAACP. I felt that, “Hey, maybe I'll carry on my Dad's legacy.” [laughter].

[TRACK 1, 24:01]

MB:
Could you give me your perspective on the “Black List”?

LF:
Well, at the time - I still, I still struggle with it. How about if a person were looking for a person wearing a red hat and they were supposedly involved, let's say, in a bank robbery or something like that. And they were not a person of color. Would every person that would have a red hat in the Oneonta area be stopped? Would there be quite a canvasing? Not only using the red hat compared to the person of color, but let's say the same thing happened and maybe they did not say it was a person of color. Would this same canvasing happen? Not too long after that, I can remember there was a man walking around the street. He was Caucasian, and he was exposing himself to people. He had a long coat, and he would expose himself to people. That word got around, but there was not anything like what the people here in Oneonta had experienced. I do have mixed emotions. Some people felt, “Hey, the person was of color, so why not go out and look for that person?” But I'm saying, to give a list, my house was not knocked on. We lived in an apartment. No one spoke to [me]. Cars slowed down. Policemen slowed down, but I was never stopped. I went to school, you know, back and forth. I was on the highways. I was never stopped or asked where I was going or anything like that. To give a list and say, we're going to check every person that is on that list and of color. I question that. I'm not sure whether that was fair to do. I am [not] supporting anything that's wrong. I mean, this woman was assaulted; someone broke into her house. I'm not condoning that just because of what and how [the police] did it. I'm saying it's OK for them to do what they did. I'm saying that the way they did it, the way they went about it. What do you call it when they have a large mass of people involved in a lawsuit? It's just skipping my mind right now. They tried to pursue this in the courts with all these people. There was only one person that received any financial benefit from it. That was the young lady, at the time who was a counselor up at the State University, who was going to New York City, and she was stopped down at the Trailways from getting on the bus. She was questioned, and they were looking for females. The list was primarily dealing with males, with black males. When it was all said and done, with this group that was out of Albany, law firm that was out of Albany. They took on the case and I think it was litigated for 7 or 8 years, might have been longer than that. That's what they finally come up with, the fact that the person who gave the list should not suffer any penalties, and the court said it was OK to hand out the list. That's how I got involved, and the NAACP does a lot of things in this community. In the years that I've been involved, we've been involved with housing discrimination and housing. We've been in in schools. We've been in jobs. We've had

[START OF TRACK 2, 0:00]

LF:
people of color who have been stopped, you know, profiled on the highways, coming to and going from school. There's just a lot of things. Recently we're dealing with a situation of displaying of a Confederate flag in the high school and found out, which was great that the school jumped on it right away. Because of what the Confederate flag symbolizes now, not what it was when Robert E. Lee was in charge of the southern troops. The way that flag is displayed, like in Charlottesville, in South Carolina, and in all these places where a white supremacist came in and shot and killed people of color, the flag is always, always flying, you know. It's not to say that we're taking away that person's First Amendment right, but in public schools, and if it's a hateful display, then we feel schools should, anybody should step in. We're not saying, “Hey, you can't fly a Confederate flag.” What is the meaning of you flying that Confederate flag and selling it at county fairs? We're working with a group called “Fair for All” over in Delhi about the sale of Confederate flags and so on. We know that there are people who feel that, hey, that I want to wear that shirt. I want to fly that flag. That's fine. But you know, what is the meaning behind it? If it is what it is, and what we see it is, as far as when people have no remorse for what they do. Like Dylan Roof at Charleston, South Carolina. You know, when he came into their prayer meeting, sat in the prayer meeting for an hour and then pulled out an automatic weapon and killed nine people. I mean, point blank. Then when he was caught, there was Confederate flags and everything all over. That's only one of many. If you follow all of these cases, you'll see that they are just hate, just hate. The NAACP is involved in a lot of things that happened. Some things we do, they're not in the paper. At stores where students have been followed around in stores, where students have been students of color, have been told to open up their bags after they have purchased things. Hey, let's face it, we know that in these big stores there is a lot of shoplifting that goes on, you know? But all of a sudden, it seemed as though in several situations that the students of color were being targeted, were being profiled.

[TRACK 2, 4:37]

MB:
How does the memory of the “Black List” influence Oneonta today?

LF:
Well, there are some people when you talk about it, they say “let it go.” They are primarily whites that I've talked to. I know at one time at the University that word was out, if we don't talk about this or if we don't do anything about it for years, it'll be forgotten. I think incidents like this should not be swept under the rug. I don't think that things like this should be forgotten. How did it affect my basketball players? When I was coaching, these kids were just totally distraught. We could almost not have a practice. They were coming in not thinking about playing the sport, because now they feel everyone here at this college, they come to the gym and they were cheering me. And now they come in, and they're booing me. They didn't really boo, but there were students many students that felt that all that was OK. They had a lot of discussions about it, a lot of discussions. I think there are people who feel that, you know, “oh it's not a big deal.” But if that shoe were on the other foot, how would you feel? How would you feel? This is why I think it's still here in the community. As the years pass, it still comes up. It still comes up in various ways. The college every year, I think they show the video of the “Black List.” There are some students that I've talked to who didn't even know that it existed here. They never heard about it. They're young students now; didn't know it happened here before they even said they were going to come to State University. So I would say the older community knows that it happened. There's not a lot of animosity towards people of color. I think more things have happened. You know, there's been more scholarships at the University. More discussion. More conversation. I think it's brought out more instead of suppressing it.

So, I mean, I've never been totally confronted by that whole situation. We do feel, I still feel that, I still feel that pain. It's like a cut in your hand that goes deep, and it's not something that you'll easily forget. I know, as long as I'm in my right mind, I probably won't ever forget it. And what took place in this community and how the community was up in discussion. Everybody was talking about it. It was a big deal for quite a long time.

MB:
You had mentioned earlier that the “Black List” had separated and brought the community together. Could you tell me how that happened?

LF:
When it first happened. Grace Jones, who was the first president, said we need to talk. We need to not be going back to our homes discussing it. We need to open this up and allow people in the community, if you want to speak your peace, then that's what we should do, when it comes to this. I think doing that, loosen things up a little bit where people could come in and voice their opinions on how they feel and what they feel should take place. I was here long before the “Black List.” I know in my classrooms, as a social studies teacher, we discussed it. Young people discussing things and not taking sides in your discussion. But allowing these students to try to see both sides of the coin and how people were affected by the decision that was brought down by the school allowing that list to be sent out. I think it's brought the community together. At first, yes, there was separation. I think there was a deep separation in the beginning, because it was, you might say, “us against them.” You had those two views. That's how the NAACP got started was from the talks, that were given, and people in conversation and communication and listening and in voicing their opinions, all those things brought it together so that the NAACP came about. A chapter here in Oneonta.

MB:
How has the role of the NAACP in Oneonta changed over the years?

LF:
How has the…?

MB:
How has the role of the NAACP in Oneonta changed over the years?

LF:
Well, I'm not sure if it really has changed. We've always stood for equality, justice, fairness. I think that has always been there, and we always strive to do what is right. Maybe people don't totally agree with what we do and that's understandable. I think wherever we see a form of injustice or discrimination–and we are contacted, because sometimes we're contacted, sometimes we're not. People will file complaints, like recently, we have about four or five complaints, schools; there's stores; there's housing. Those types of complaints that have been given to us and then that's when we check them out. If it appears as though it's a civil rights violation. It's got to be. Sometimes we get complaints from people, and we find out that, where have your civil rights been violated? We'll look at this and we'll say “gee.” We do this through our legal redress, which is a committee of four people, and we sit down, discuss it, and act accordingly. Or tell the person, we'll help you if you feel that you need our help, but we can't really see where your civil rights have been violated. I really think it's always been the same. Our name is out there. Our organization is out there. Technology has helped us because we have a website now, whereas back in the day, we didn't do all those things. Now people can go to that website and find out who they can contact and where they can get assistance if they feel they need to.

[TRACK 2, 16:48]

MB:
Could you tell me about the discussions between the community, Oneonta police, and the Oneonta branch of the NAACP?

LF:
Yes. Back. Oh, my gosh. I would say probably it's going to be over 10 or 12 years ago before Chief [Douglas W.] Brenner took office. The NAACP went down and spoke to the Police Chief, [John J.] Donadio, about it. I take that back. He invited us down and said, “you know, let's talk about if peoples' rights are being violated.” Not people of color, if peoples' rights, black, white didn't matter. He said, “Let's talk about what we can do together to make this a better city.” We actually have the written proposal by him and us, by the NAACP, stating that if anything were to happen in the city, that was questionable towards a person's civil rights being violated or being profiled. If persons being profiled or whatever the situation, the doors of the Police Chief were always open. All we had to do was contact him, come down, and we could talk. That was a big breakthrough.

JF:
See you guys

LF:
OK. My wife off to work [laughter].

JF:
Take care.

LF:
OK.

LF:
That was a big breakthrough because Police Chief Donadio was really fair. We thought he was fair because he tried. They did have a policeman of color here. Numerous times he said, “I've gone to the academies to try to recruit policemen of color,” because I think that could make a big difference too. When you can look out and see a [policeman of color]. Not that, [a] person of color is going to treat you any differently than any other policeman. Just the fact that you might know him, your parents might know him. He could know your family, you know.

That's the way it was in my hometown, which was segregated. The police would come into our neighborhood, sit on our porch. I can still see the policeman sitting on our porch talking to my Mom and Dad, talking to my brothers because they played sports. They knew where they were. The policeman was known, we called him “Popeye.” Yeah. He knew everybody. He knew all the families and that made a difference. Because, if it was Halloween and people were thinking about trick or treating, sometimes our tricks used to get a little off the wall. We wanted the treats, but we wanted the trick too. But he would say, “OK, now I'm going to be patrolling the community tonight if you're doing wrong.” He said, “you're going to suffer the consequences. If you take chairs off someone's porch and take them two blocks and put it on somebody else's porch, we find that's you, you are going to be, you know.” So, all that stayed in the back of our mind. We didn't have this situation of, if there was a problem, they knew where to come. My brother did something at a grocery store and ran down the alley and came to the house, and the owner of the store used to live upstairs. Of course, he saw my brother George and came down. Even during that time, he said, “I'm not going to call the police.” He said, “I want you to apologize and I want you to come down there tomorrow and clean up the stuff that you knocked down.” That's the way the communities were; very few times did we see police cars in our neighborhoods. Because everybody worked, everybody had a job, everybody was being productive in the community. I think that that's so important in a lot of big, big cities. A lot of companies and factories and things have moved out, and this leaves people jobless unless they have to travel quite a way. I mean, when I say, “move out,” they might even move out of the state like our steel plants in Pennsylvania. You know, when they moved out of Williamsport. They went further. They went towards Pittsburgh. They went towards the western part of the state, which meant that people here had to [commute], unless they would go and work all week again paying for rent and an apartment and then coming back to Williamsport. Which was probably about [a] three-and-a-half-hour trip. They couldn't do it day in and day out. They had to go there and stay, then come back. Some people did. Some of the younger people relocated when those steel plants went out. People were working. Even though it was segregated, for the person of color, we learned to deal with it. In some cases, we didn't realize what was happening. Because when my brothers graduated from high school and they applied at the school district, they were not, you know, there were no black teachers in the school district. These were guys that did well in school, did well in the sports and so on and so forth. Their names are out there, but nobody was hired. So, you know, that's why a lot a lot of us moved on. One [brother] was a principal, one taught college, Union College in New York City. We had doctors, the Dunstan boys, they had four doctors in their family. Two dentists and two were doctors. Just all the way through. We had people that later grew up to be outstanding citizens in the community.

The change in the police here and what it was then [are] totally different. I can remember speaking to Police Chief Donadio after that raid. He was not in favor of it. He was not in favor of taking the list and doing that. I think that contract that we have, and we still have that. We went down for a couple of investigations and he [Oneonta Police Chief Brenner] filled us in because there's two sides. You find out working with civil rights. You've got to listen to both sides and sometimes you don't have to listen, you can see. You can see where there is discrimination. Why aren't these jobs being open for everyone? I think that that's been a close, close relationship with the police. I don't know as many policemen on the police force now. The NAACP does have a ride along, it's called, with the police. I have not done that yet; I keep saying I have to do it. But some of our members have been in the cars, on the weekends. You're allowed to be in the car with the police, at the time. I guess they have a whole thing of telling you if something were to happen, what you can do and so on and so forth, where you do not get involved in anything. But I do plan to do that.

MB:
Could you tell me about the African American community in Oneonta?

LF:
That's sort of a tough question. It's spread out. You have people who are professionals. You have non-professionals. They don't live in one specific area. I can't tell you approximately the percentage of people of color in the community. I mean, who are considered residents of the community. You know, the college, they come and go. As far as in the community itself, the number that go to the elementary school, the number [that goes] to the high schools–I know of families, but you can't really say the community. We have tried to pull the community together. We have a picnic, and that's where we get to meet the people, not only people of color, the picnic's open for the whole community. It's a community picnic, and it's a good time. Probably the majority of the people there are white that come to the picnic.

[START OF TRACK 3, 00:00]

LF:
We do get a chance to meet parents and children and try to encourage them to join the NAACP. Sometimes they might not feel that, that's what they really want to do. It's hard to put your finger [on the community]. You know them, you know maybe what type of work they do, but they're not necessarily members of the organization.

MB:
Thank you for your time and information today.

LF:
OK, thank you.

[END OF TRACK 3, 1:04]

Coverage

Central New York

Oneonta, NY

1940-2019

Creator

Matthew Brazier

Publisher

Cooperstown Graduate Program, State University of New York-College at Oneonta

Rights

Cooperstown Graduate Association, Cooperstown, NY

Format

audio/mpeg
28.8mB

audio/mpeg
1mB

image/jpeg
3024â€ŠÃ—â€Š4032 pixel

Language

en-US

Type

Sound

Image

Identifier

19-002

Abstract

Track 1, 9:32 - The “Black List” in Oneonta and the Inception of the Oneonta Branch of the NAACP

Track 1, 24:01 - Fisher's Perspective on the ‘Black List'

Track 2, 4:37 - The Memory of the “Black List” in Oneonta Today

Track 2, 16:48 - Discussions between the community, Oneonta Police, and Oneonta NAACP

Track 2, 20:21 - Comparison between growing up with police in segregated Williamsport, PA and Oneonta, New York

Item

Lee Fisher, November 18, 2019