PAGE 6
BEYOND HATRED
THE EDUCATION OF C.P. ELLIS
find the kid. I got worried. I saw two young black people. I had a
.32 revolver with me. I said: “Nigger, you seen a little white boy
up here I just got a call from him and was told some niggers
robbed him of 15 cents." I pulled my pistol out and put it right at
his head. I said: “I’ve always wanted to kill a nigger and I think
I’ll make you the first one." I nearly scared the kid to death, and
he struck off.
This was the time when the Civil Rights Movement was
really beginning to peak. The blacks were beginning to demon
strate and picket downtown stores. I never will forget some black
lady I hated with a purple passion. Ann Atwater Every time I’d
go downtown, she’d be leading a boycott Big fat heavy woman.
She’d pulled about eight demonstrations, and first thing you
know they had two, three blacks at the checkout counter. Her
and I have had some pretty close confrontations.
I felt very big. W e’d been more or less a secret organi
zation. We didn't want anybody to know who we were, but I
began to do some thinking. What am I hiding for? Why can’t
I go to the city council meeting and say: “We don’t want you to
purchase mobile units to set in our schoolyards. We don’t want
niggers in our schools."
We began to come out in the open. We would go to
the meetings, and the blacks would be there and we'd be there.
It was a confrontation every time. I didn’t hold back anything.
We began to make some inroads with the city councilmen and
county commissioners. They began to call us friend. They didn’t
want integration either, but they couldn’t stand up and say it
openly We visited some of the city leaders in their homes and
talked to them privately. It wasn't long before councilmen would
call me up: “The blacks are coming up tonight and making out
rageous demands. How about some of you people showing up
and have a little balance?” I’d get on the telephone.
W e’d load up our cars and we’d fill up half the council
chamber, and the blacks the other half. During these times I
carried weapons to the meetings, outside my belt. We would
wind up just hollering and fussing at each other. As a result,
the city council still had their way. They didn’t want to give up
control to the blacks nor the Kian. They were using us.
INTERVIEW BY STUDS TERKEL
H/e’re in his office in Durham, North Carolina. He
is the business manager of Local 465 of the International
Union of Operating Engineers. On the wall is a plaque:
"Certificate of service, in recognition to C.P. Ellis, for your
faithful service to the city in having served as a member of
the Durham Human Relations Council, February 1977."
At one time he had been President (aka Exalted
Cyclops) of the Durham Chapter of the Ku Klux Kian.
My father worked in a textile mill in Durham. He died at
48 years old, probably from cotton dust. Back then we never
heard of brown lung I was about 17 years old and had a mother
and sister depending on somebody to make a living. There was
just barely enough insurance to cover his burial. I had to quit
school and go to work. I was about in the 8th grade when I left
school.
My father worked hard but never had enough money.
When I went to school, I never seemed to have adequate
clothing to wear. I always left school late afternoon with a sense
of inferiority. I still got some of those inferiority feelings now that
I have to overcome once in awhile.
I loved my father. He would go with me to ball games.
W e’d go fishing together. I was really ashamed of the way he’d
dress. He would take his money and give it to me instead of
outing it on himself. I always had the feeling that somebody was
looking and making fun of us.
My father and I were very close, but we didn’t talk about
too many intimate things. He did have a drinking problem.During
the week he would work every day, but weekends he was ready
to get plastered. I can understand when a guy has worked hard
all week and keeps finding his bills are larger than his paycheck.
Finally you just say: “The heck with it. I’ll just get drunk and
forget it."
My father was out of work during the Depression, and I
remember going with him to the finance company uptown, and
he was turned down. That's something that's always stuck.
After several years pumping gas at a service station,
I got married. We had four children. Once child was born blind
and retarded, which was a real additional expense to us. He’s
never spoken a word. He doesn't know me when I go to see him.
But I see him, I hug his neck. I talk to him, tell him I love him.
All my life I had worked, did all the overtime I could get
and still could not survive financially. I began to say there’s
something wrong with this country. I worked my butt off and just
never seemed to break even.
I had some real great ideas about this great nation.
They say to abide by the law, go to church, do right and live for
the Lord and everything’ll work out But it didn’t work out. It just
kept getting worse and worse.
I was working a bread route. The highest I made one
week was $75. The rent on our house was about $12 a week.
So finally I left the bread route with $50 in my pocket. I went
to the bank and I borrowed $4,000 to buy the service station. I
worked 7 days a week, open and close, and finally had a heart
attack. Just about two months before the last payments of that
loan. My wife had done the best she could to keep it running.
Trying to come out of that hole, I just couldn’t do it.
I really began to get bitter. I didn't know who to blame.
I had to hate somebody. Hating America is hard to do because
you can’t see it. You gotta have something to look at to hate.
The natural people for me to hate were black people because
my father before me was a member of the Kian. As far he was
concerned, it was the savior of white people, the only organiza
tion in the world that would take care of them. So I began to
admire the Kian.
I got active in the Kian while I was at the service station.
Every Monday night a group of men would come by and stand
around talking and drinking Cokes. I couldn’t help but wonder:
Why are these dudes coming out every Monday? They said
they were with the Kian and had meetings close by. Would I be
interested? Boy, that was an opportunity I really looked forward
to! To be a part of something. I joined the Kian, went from
member to chaplain, from chaplain to vice president, from vice
president to president. The title is ‘Exalted Cyclops’.
The first night I went with the fellas, they knocked on
the door and gave the signal They sent some robed Klansmen
to talk to me and give me some instructions. I was led into a
large meeting room, and this was the time of my life! It was
thrilling. Four robed Klansmen led me into the hall The lights
were dim, and the only thing you could see was an illuminated
cross. I knelt before it and made certain vows. We promised to
uphold the purity of the white race, fight communism, and
protect white womanhood.
After I had taken my oath, there was loud applause
going throughout the building, musta been at least 400 people
there. For this little old C.P. Ellis.
It disturbs me when people who do not really know what
it’s all about are so very critical of Klansmen. The majority of
them are low-income whites, people who really don't have a part
in something. They have been shut out as well as the blacks.
Some are not very well educated either.Just like myself. We had
a lot of support from doctors, lawyers and police officers.
Maybe they've had bitter experiences in this life and
they had to hate somebody. So the natural person to hate would
be the black person. He’s beginning to come up, he's beginning
to learn to read and start voting and run fcr political office. Here
are white people who are supposed to be superior to them, and
we’re shut out.
At one time I was state organizer for the National Rights
Party. I organized a youth group for the Kian. I felt we were get
ting old and our generation’s gonna die. So I contact certain kids
in schools. They were having racial problems. On the first night,
we had 100 high school students. When they came in the door,
we had Dixie playing These kids were just thrilled to death. I
began to hold weekly meetings, teaching them the principles
of the Kian. At that time, I believed Martin Luther King had
communist connections. I began to teach that Andy Young was
affiliated with the Communist Party
I had a call one night from one of our kids He said: “I
just been robbed downtown by two niggers ” I'd had a couple of
drinks and that really teed me off I went downtown and couldn't
<
I began to realize this later on down the road. One day
I was walking downtown and a certain city council member saw
me coming. I expected him to shake my hand because he was
talking to me at night on the telephone. I had been in his home
and visited with him. He crossed the street. Something’s wrong
here, I began to think. Most of them were merchants or maybe
an attorney, an insurance agent, people like that. As long as
they keep us low-income whites and low-income blacks fighting,
they're gonna maintain control. So I decided you’re not gonna
use me anymore. That's when I began to do some real serious
thinking.
The same thing is still happening in this country today.
People are being used by those in control, those who have all
the wealth. I’m not espousing communism. W e’ve got the great
est system of government in the world. But those who have it
simply don’t want those who don’t have it to have any part of it.
Black and white. When it comes to money — the green — other
colors make no difference.
I spent a lot of sleepless nights. I still didn’t like blacks
or Jews or Catholics. My father said: “Don't have anything to do
with them." I didn’t until I met a black person and talked with him
eyeball to eyeball, and met a Jewish person and talked with him
eyeball to eyeball. I found out they’re just people like me. They
cried, they cussed, they prayed. Just like myself. After a long
time, I got to the point where I could look past labels. But at that
time, my mind was closed.
I’d have to go home at night and I’d have to wrestle with
myself. I’d look at a black person walking down the street, and
the guy’d have ragged shoes or his clothes would be worn.That
began to do something to me inside.I went through this for about
six months. I felt I just had to get out of the Kian. But I didn’t.
Then something happened. The state AFL/CIO received
a $78,000 grant from the Department of HEW to investigate how
to solve racial problems in the school system. I got a telephone
call from the President of the AFL/CIO. “W e’d like to get some
people together from all walks of life.” I said: “All walks of life?
Who you talking about?” He said: “Blacks, whites, liberals,
conservatives, Klansmen, NAACP people."
I said: “No way am I coming with all those niggers."
But a White Citizens Council guy said: “Let’s go up there and
see what’s going on. It’s tax money being spent." I walked in the
door, and there was a large number of blacks and white liberals.
I knew most of them by face. Ann Atwater was there. I just
forced myself to go and sit down
The meeting was moderated by a great big black guy
who said: “I want you all to feel free to say anything you want to
say." Some of the blacks stood up and said it’s white racism. I
took all I could take. I asked for the floor and I cut loose. “No sir,
it's black racism. If we didn’t have the niggers in the schools we
wouldn’t have the problems we have today."
I will never forget. Howard Clements, a black guy, stood
up. He said: “I’m glad C.P. Ellis came because he’s the most
honest man here tonight." And at the end of the meeting, some
blacks tried to come up and shake my hand, but I wouldn’t do it.
I walked off.