Sweet Justice: Georgia Gilmore and the Montgomery Bus Boycott

Georgia was cooking when she heard the news. Mrs. Rosa Parks had been arrested-pulled right off a city bus and thrown in jail because she wouldn’t let a white man take her seat.
That was no surprise to Georgia. She had lived her whole life here in Montgomery, Alabama, and she knew there was no justice under segregation.

Segregation was a long, hot summer dragging wishful children past the shady park with the Whites Only sign.
It was the pale pink hands of waitresses serving white businessmen their lunch, as if it wasn’t Georgia in the kitchen cooking up Montgomery’s best meat loaf and her famous sweet potato pie

And the city buses! Standing on her aching feet all the way home after a long day’s work, with rows and rows of seats up front left empty, just in case a white person got on.

But Georgia didn’t ride the buses anymore. Not since the day that driver shouted at her to get off the bus and go to the back door, after she’d already paid her ten-cent fare. Before she could get on again, he slammed the doors shut and drove off.

More than a month had passed, and Georgia hadn’t stepped onto a city bus. Walking home was even harder on her feet than standing, but she would not give that bus company another dime.

Summer heated up, frying the sidewalks like a pork chop sizzling in one of Georgia’s pans. But the boycotters walked on.