Black farmer fought Fort Bend’s whites-only primaries — and won
As a prosperous farmer in Fort Bend County in the early 1950s, Willie Melton enjoyed a good life in many ways, but he was keenly aware of what he didn’t enjoy: the right to take part in the political process.
Melton, who was Black, was not allowed to vote in closed primaries held by an all-white group, the Jaybird Democratic Association. The winner generally went on to win the Democratic primary — the county and state were dominated by the Democratic Party then — and the general election. The tactic essentially disenfranchised Black voters, denying them an opportunity to vote for candidates who looked like them or have a say in their elected leadership.
Melton decided it was time for a change.
“He just felt like it needed to end,” said Veronica Harris, his granddaughter, in a recent interview. “God sent him here for that purpose to help us get where we are today.”
Melton and a small group of Black residents — including wealthy seamstress Arizona Fleming — embarked on a journey that would eventually take them to the U.S. Supreme Court and end the system of whitesonly primaries in Fort Bend. As the nation celebrates Black History Month, the legal campaign of Melton and others is remembered as a courageous one in a segregated state and an important turning point in voting
rights.
The court victory, which came a decade before Freedom Riders were beaten in the Deep South and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 was passed, is appreciated today by Black officeholders such as Fort Bend District Attorney Brian Middleton, who was elected in 2018.
“Mr. Melton could have been content with his own financial success; however, Willie Melton used his wealth to save humanity,” Middleton, a Democrat, said in a written statement. “He waged a battle against bigotry and won. Mr. Melton’s actions were courageous and altruistic. Mr. Melton’s benevolence made it possible for me to be elected to serve as Fort Bend County District Attorney.”
The leadership of the diverse county of more than 810,000 is resembling its demographics in other ways. K.P. George became the first Indian-American county judge two years ago, and Eric Fagan was sworn in last month as the county’s first Black sheriff since Reconstruction.
Local advocates, meanwhile, recently persuaded the city of Richmond to relocate a monument honoring “Jaybirds” who died in a violent clash in 1889 that ended biracial governance in Fort Bend County.
Gentle farmer helped others
Melton was born in 1900 in Kendleton, one of the freedmen’s towns in Texas settled by previously enslaved people who were emancipated after the Civil War.
He and his wife, Carrie, raised turkeys, chickens and watermelons on their farm. Harris recalled that when she lived with her grandparents as a child, she would brush her grandfather’s hair when he would come home from work at the end of the day.
“I would look at my backyard like now and all you would see (for miles) is all these chickens and turkeys,” said Harris, now 63. “That’s what we were surrounded with.”
Melton was known as the watermelon king — an agriculture worker, landowner and entrepreneur.
Harris and her cousin Estonia Adams described Melton as a gentle man who didn’t raise his voice. He also was a dedicated activist who sought to help others in the community.
“What I liked about Uncle Willie, as a little kid, he would sit down and explain things to you,” said Adams, 63, his niece.
“Papa Willie being the activist he was, he was always concerned about people,” Harris said. “He was always gone because he was always doing something that was going to help somebody.”
Disenfranchised voters
The system of whites-only primaries was put in place after a bitter clash in the county known as the Jaybird-Woodpecker War. The Woodpeckers were a political group that, with support from freed slaves in majority-black Fort Bend, captured top political offices during Reconstruction. The Jaybirds included wealthy white residents who sought to wrest control of county offices from the Woodpeckers. Acrimony arising from the 1888 election and killings of members on both sides culminated in the so-called Battle of Richmond in front of the courthouse on Aug. 16, 1889. Several people were killed, including the sheriff, who had opposed the Jaybirds’ efforts to seize power by force. Martial law was imposed, and Woodpeckers who held office resigned or were removed from office.
The whites-only Jaybird Democratic Association emerged and went on to control who could nominate and run in Democratic primaries for decades. “African Americans, Hispanics and Jews were excluded from the process,” according to the Handbook of Texas.
The Jaybirds held unofficial “straw elections” to pick Democratic nominees for local elections, according to a historical marker that details the Supreme Court case.
This practice wasn’t unique to Fort Bend County. So-called white primaries were held across Texas until the U.S. Supreme Court, in a case brought by Houston dentist Lonnie Smith and backed by the NAACP, overturned them in a 1944 ruling, Smith v. Allwright.
Still, the Jaybirds continued to refuse to open up their primaries in Fort Bend County.
Melton met with his friend Sid Hilliard, a Harris County NAACP leader, who advised him to write the Jaybird Democratic Association and request that Black people be allowed to vote in primaries, according to the book “The Jaybirds of Fort Bend County” by Pauline Yelderman. The pair met in Dallas with W.J. Durham, who served as legal counsel for the NAACP in Texas. He penned a Jan. 19, 1950, letter formalizing the request.
In the meantime, Melton gathered around 100 signatures from Black voters to petition the Jaybirds to let them vote in the primary. The following month, Ben Ramsey, from a Houston law firm, made the same request.
The Jaybirds convened a meeting and ultimately decided “the petition and all letters be disregarded at this time and that the association hold its traditional separate primaries.”
The news did not sit well with Melton.
Melton said that “ignoring the letters and petition and throwing them in the wastebasket was the last straw,” according to Yelderman.
‘They can no longer hurt me’
While Melton was determined to challenge the Jaybirds’ practice in court, many Black residents were fearful of speaking out, Yelderman said.
Some feared retribution or that that another political feud would break out.
Melton’s own brothers even asked him to stop, noting that he “would be killed.”
Still, Melton persisted. He connected with Arizona Fleming, a Black woman who owned the Fort Bend Fraternal Undertaking Co. She wholeheartedly supported the effort.
Melton and his group eventually sought legal representation from a Houston law firm.
Their attorney, J. Edwin Smith, told them they would need to identify plaintiffs for the case. Smith and Fleming began to search for Black residents in the county who would be willing to put their names on the lawsuit.
John Terry, a 77-year-old man from Beasley, reportedly said, “I am an old man, use my name, they can no longer hurt me,” according to Yelderman.
Smith ultimately filed suit on behalf of five Black men, contending that their rights under the 14th and 15th Amendments — which guaranteed citizenship and equal rights to Black Americans as well as the right to vote — had been violated.
After a hearing in Houston, a judge ruled in May 1950 that Black residents should be allowed to vote in the coming Jaybird primaries, set for May 6 and June 3 of that year.
Melton and his group were overjoyed. Both Melton and Fleming had worked hard to raise money for the legal fight. They next focused on getting other Black people in the county to turn out for the primary, which was just days away.
They were successful: About 400 of the 550 eligible Black voters turned out to vote in the May primary.
One of them was Melton’s wife, Carrie, who said years later, “I didn’t believe in the ‘Movement’ and I was afraid, and I had always wanted to live out my natural life, but I was determined to vote,” according to Yelderman.
High court hears case
However, the fight was not over. The Jaybirds prevailed on appeal in 1952.
Melton organized a meeting attended by about 100 Black residents and argued for taking the case to the Supreme Court unless, he said, they wanted to “give up and accept their second-rate citizenship forever,” Yelderman wrote.
It would be a costly fight, Melton told them, with a legal tab as high as $4,000. Those at the meeting backed Melton’s and Fleming’s efforts.
The Supreme Court heard arguments on Jan. 23, 1953. Melton and Fleming attended, as did professors and students from Howard University and NAACP Washington members.
Smith was joined by a lawyer from Howard University, James Nabrit Jr., for the oral argument.
On May 4, 1953, the high court ruled 8-1 against the Jaybirds, finding that the political group had violated the 15th Amendment.
One justice wrote that the group’s practices had the effect of stripping Blacks “of every vestige of influence in selecting county officials.”
After the Supreme Court decision, Melton and hundreds of Black Texans celebrated on the Southern Pacific picnic grounds in Kendleton, according to Yelderman.
Melton died in 1969. Fleming died seven years later. The court fight had reportedly left both with financial losses, but, Yelderman wrote, both said they “would do it all over again.”
Melton’s legacy
On a recent February day, Harris, her cousin Adams and former Kendleton Mayor Carolyn Jones gathered around Harris’ kitchen table reflecting on the important voting rights battle waged in Fort Bend seven decades earlier.
Harris said she takes her right to vote seriously because of her grandfather’s fight and passes the message on to her children. A historical marker near the post office in Kendleton includes details on the Supreme Court case.
“I think Kendleton has a big hand of people going out, doing well and being established because of Mr. Melton’s effort,” Jones said.
Fagan, the first Black sheriff in more than 150 years, also noted the line between what Melton achieved and his own public service.
“I wouldn’t be in the office now without what he did back then,” Fagan said. “I stand on his shoulders, as well as a lot of people.”