Remembering Jonathan Daniels 50 years after his martyrdom

By Mary Frances Schjonberg
Posted Aug 13, 2015

[Episcopal News Service] In Fort Deposit, Alabama, the day of Aug. 14, 1965, began hot and humid, and it only got more oppressive as it went on.

It was the beginning of the last six days of Jonathan Daniels’ life, most of which would be spent in a squalid county jail and which would end with the 26-year-old dying from a shotgun blast as he saved the life of another. He would become the 26th civil rights worker to be murdered.

Early that Saturday morning, 30 people — most of them young, most of them African-American and most of them from the area — gathered at the AME church just outside of town to finalize their plan to protest outside of businesses in Fort Deposit. They wanted to call attention to discriminatory hiring practices, unequal treatment of customers and price gouging.

Many had been involved in an unsuccessful boycott earlier in the year of their segregated black high school after its superintendent refused to consider a list of demands aimed at improving their education. And the county school board blocked their attempt to integrate the all-white high school in Hayneville about 18 miles away. They wanted to find a niche in the civil right movement in Lowndes County, often called “Bloody Lowndes” for the way violence enforced segregation.

Just eight days earlier, President Lyndon Johnson had signed the historic Voting Rights Act. Most of the young organizers who gathered on Aug. 14 were too young to vote, but they wanted to be part of the movement so they proposed the protest against businesses in Fort Deposit. They soon learned that two FBI agents were in town to observe the first voter registration efforts in the county. The agents, one author says, told them police were prepared to arrest the protestors as soon as they entered the street. At the same time a crowd of white men armed with clubs, broken bottles and guns was assembling to confront them.

The protest lasted a few minutes until police arrested everyone, including Jonathan Daniels, a white seminarian from what then was known as Episcopal Theological School, now Episcopal Divinity School, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. They were loaded onto a flatbed truck the county normally used for hauling trash and taken to the jail in Hayneville, the county seat of Lowndes County.

White seminarians Jonathon Daniels and Judith Upham spents the spring months of 1965 in rural Alabama. Photo: Virginia Military Institue

White seminarians Jonathon Daniels and Judith Upham spents the spring months of 1965 in rural Alabama. Photo: Virginia Military Institue

Daniels and fellow seminarian Judith Upham first had come to Alabama in March, responding to a call from the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. for Northern clergy to come south in support of the movement. They arrived on a Thursday, intending to be home in Cambridge in time for classes Monday morning. They stayed nearly a week and returned with the conviction that they were called to return to Alabama as witness to the ongoing struggle for equal rights.

“Something had happened to me in Selma, which meant I had to come back,” Daniels once wrote. “I could not stand by in benevolent dispassion any longer without compromising everything I know and love and value. The imperative was too clear, the stakes too high, my own identity was called too nakedly into question … I had been blinded by what I saw here (and elsewhere), and the road to Damascus led, for me, back here.”

Daniels and Upham returned the following week to spend the semester. “Sometimes we take to the streets, sometimes we yawn through interminable meetings … Sometime we confront the posse, sometimes we hold a child,” Daniels wrote, describing their daily work.

He said Selma in 1965 was like the entire world, ambiguous and filled with doubt and fear. Into that world must come saints, he said. And Selma “needs the life and witness of militant saints.”

New Hampshire Bishop Rob Hirschfeld says he doesn’t think Daniels really knew what he was going to do when he came to live in Alabama, “except to go and listen and learn and be with.”

“He embodied the Word being made flesh,” Hirschfeld to ENS.

And, yet, Keene State College Professor Lawrence Benaquist said he suspected that for Daniels the idea that he would become a recognized saint “would have been ridiculous to him.” Benaquist immersed himself in Daniels’ life for the 1999 nearly hour-long documentary Here Am I, Send Me: The Story of Jonathan Daniels, which he and Keene State colleague William Sullivan made. The documentary, narrated by actor Sam Waterston, is viewable here.

Daniels, who went back with Upham to ETS for final exams and to visit his family in his hometown of Keene, New Hampshire, returned to Alabama for the summer of 1965. Upham spent that summer fulfilling the school’s clinical pastoral education requirement at a state mental hospital in St. Louis, Missouri.

When Daniels wanted to work for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee in Lowndes County, the group refused, according to legendary SNCC leader Stokely Carmichael.

During his time in Alabama, Jonathan Daniels lived with the West family in Selma. The family, Alice West has said, kept their doors open to so-called “outside agitators” working in the civil rights movement. Daniels became a part of her family, she said. Photo: Archives of The Episcopal Church

During his time in Alabama, Jonathan Daniels lived with the West family in Selma. The family, Alice West has said, kept their doors open to so-called “outside agitators” working in the civil rights movement. Daniels became a part of her family, she said. Photo: The Archives of The Episcopal Church

“We had no base in Lowndes County, so there was no way to protect him, and if he were working with us, he would be clearly a target of the Ku Klux Klan and our work then would be just protecting him rather than doing our work,” Carmichael recalled during a 1988 interview that was a followup to the PBS series Eyes on the Prize. Daniels accused him of being racist, he added.

Daniels, instead, joined some Lowndes County work being done by the Southern Leadership Christian Conference, whose first president was King. Meanwhile, Carmichael and Daniels got to know and like each other that summer. Carmichael later said he came to realize that Daniels was “more interested in lasting solutions rather than the temporary ones.”

Six days in Hayneville jail, then a suspicious reprieve

At the Hayneville Jail after his arrest at the Fort Deposit protest, Daniels shared a cell with Carmichael, who had been arrested with a fellow SNCC member following a fender-bender involving a car full of armed white men. The group spent six hot August days in the jail without air conditioning. There were no showers and no toilets. Daniels led the group in hymn singing and prayers, boosting morale and combating the bleakness of the situation.

Carmichael and his colleague made bail on their charges and left for Selma on Aug. 20. A few hours later, the jailers inexplicably unlocked all the doors and told the rest of the prisoners they were free to go. No one was waiting to pick them up, so it was clear that no one’s friends had posted bail.

“I’m convinced it was a setup,” Upham told Episcopal News Service in 2012.

Before he entered seminary Jonathan Daniels earned his undergraduate degree from the Virginia Military Institute where he was the valedictorian of the Class of 1961. The school honors his service and sacrifice to the civil rights movement to this day. Photo: Virginia Military Institute

Before he entered seminary Jonathan Daniels earned his undergraduate degree from the Virginia Military Institute where he was the valedictorian of the Class of 1961. The school honors his service and sacrifice to the civil rights movement to this day. Photo: Virginia Military Institute

While waiting for a ride and after having been ordered off the jail property, Daniels, Catholic priest Richard Morrisroe and two black demonstrators, Joyce Bailey and Ruby Sales, walked to buy soda for the group at Varner’s Store, about 50 yards from the jail. “They’d been there before in mixed groups, so it theoretically wasn’t that big a deal,” Upham said.

Thomas Coleman, a county special deputy wielding a 12-gauge automatic pump shotgun, stood on the concrete pad outside the store. He crudely ordered them off the property.

“Things happened so fast,” Ruby Sales, who was 17 at the time and on leave from Tuskegee Institute, recalled years later. “The next thing I know there was a pull and I fall back. And there was a shotgun blast. And another shotgun blast. I heard Father Morrisroe, moaning for water.”

“I thought to myself: ‘I’m dead. This is what it feels like to be dead.”

Bailey, who had run behind an abandoned car, called to Sales who, realizing she was still alive, crawled over to her. They began to run. The rest of the group scattered and ran, knocking on doors as they passed homes. “Nobody would let us in; people were so terrified,” Sales said.

Coleman, a county engineer and a member of one of the oldest white families in Lowndes County, had leveled his gun and fired, blowing Daniels backwards. Daniels lay motionless on the ground. Morrisroe had retreated, taking Bailey by the hand. Coleman shot him in the back. He required hours of surgery to survive.

When other SNCC workers went to look for Daniels’ body, they could not find it, Sales said. “The streets had been swept clean, and you could not tell a murder had taken place.”

Meanwhile, back in Keene that morning, Daniels’ mother, Constance, did not know that her son had even been in jail. She worried when the day’s mail did not include a birthday card for her from Daniels, who never forgot such things. Aug. 20 was her 60th birthday.

Two months before his murder, Daniels wrote this about living with and advocating with blacks in what was known as the so-called Alabama Black Belt: “I lost fear in the black belt when I began to know in my bones and sinews that I have truly been baptized into the Lord’s death and resurrection, that in the only sense that really matters I am already dead, and my life is hid with Christ in God.”

The nation reacts, Keene buries a son, and Coleman goes on trial

President Johnson ordered a federal investigation of the shooting. The next day, his chief civil rights aide, Lee White, told Johnson that Daniels’ mother was having a hard time getting her son’s body returned from Alabama. Johnson told White to handle the transportation of Daniels’ corpse.

A group gathers near Jonathan Daniels’ grave at Monadnock View Cemetery in Keene, New Hampshire. Stokely Carmichael is second from left, facing the camera. Photo: The Archives of The Episcopal Church

Carmichael traveled to Keene for Daniels’ funeral at St. James Episcopal Church, the parish that sponsored Daniels for ordination. Carmichael and a group of mourners sang a tearful We Shall Overcome at Daniels’ grave near his father’s at the edge of the Monadnock View Cemetery.

King called Daniels’ death “brutal and bestial,” but said that he had performed “one of the most heroic Christian deeds of which I have heard in my entire ministry.”

Alice West, with whom Daniels and Upham lived in Selma, said that Daniels had been a part of her family. “We all loved him and trusted him,” she told a website for veterans of the civil rights movement. “He taught my family all about the wonders of God’s love. His death took a toll on my family as well as all the black people in Selma, Alabama.”

Coleman claimed he acted in self-defense. The day after Daniels death Alabama Attorney General Richmond Flowers called it “another Ku Klux Klan murder.” Flowers took over the case when a county grand jury indicted Coleman, 55, for manslaughter, not murder. The trial judge refused to postpone the trial until the state’s key witness, Morrisroe, could recover from his wounds. An all-white jury acquitted him 40 days after Daniels’ murder and shook hands with him as he left the courthouse.

Then-Presiding Bishop John Hines said that what Coleman’s acquittal showed “about the likelihood of minorities securing even-handed justice in some parts of this country should jar the conscience of all men who still believe in the concept of justice in this land of hope.”

Instead of attributing Coleman’s release to the price a free society pays for the jury system, Hines said it was “the fearful price extracted from society for the administration of the system by people whose prejudices lead them to sacrifice justice upon the altar of their irrational fears.”

Coleman’s acquittal led to Operation Southern Justice, a campaign and lawsuit undertaken by the Episcopal Society for Cultural and Racial Unity in conjunction with the National Council of Churches and other groups to integrate southern juries.

“Because of Jonathan, the justice system changed,” said Sandra Wallace, who with her husband Rich is writing a biography of Daniels. Wallace, a Keene resident, told ENS that the change began with a lawsuit, White v. Crook, filed in Lowndes County. It started a “domino effect” across the South, she said, ending the systematic exclusion of African-Americans and women from juries.

(The Wallaces’ book, Blood Brother, is due out in the fall of 2016.)

Honoring Daniels in the years since his murder

Daniels’ seminary established a fellowship in his honor the year after his death. The fellowship is awarded annually to provide financial assistance to one or more seminarians seeking to strengthen their theological education through participation in a social movement concerned with important human needs. In 1991, to mark 25 years since his death, Daniels’ Class of 1966 established the Jonathan Myrick Daniels Memorial Lectureship to regularly bring leaders in social ethics to the campus.

The Episcopal Church added Daniels to its Lesser Feasts and Fasts calendar of commemorations in 1994. His feast day is Aug. 14, the day of his arrest. Then-New Hampshire Bishop Douglas Theuner stood at the microphone with Alabama Bishop Robert O. Miller of Alabama, his co-sponsor of the move to officially designate Daniels a martyr of the church, and called their joint sponsorship of the resolution “a great act of reconciliation.”

When Daniels died more than 25 years earlier, Thuener said, “the mind of the church in those two dioceses was not a common one around the issues over which Jonathan Daniels gave his life.”

Daniels is one of six 20th-century individual martyrs honored in the church’s most recently proposed calendar of commemorations, A Great Cloud of Witnesses, and the only Episcopalian. (The calendar also honors three groups of modern-day martyrs.)

Daniels’ death reverberated elsewhere in American society. At his undergraduate alma mater, the Virginia Military Institute in Lexington, Virginia, Daniels has been honored regularly since his death. One of only four named archways in the VMI barracks is dedicated to Daniels, as is a memorial courtyard.

Cadets at the Virginia Military Institute lay a wreath in Jonathan Daniels’ honor in a campus courtyard named for him. The courtyard features a plaque describing Daniels’ death and including the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assessment that the death was “brutal and bestial,” but also "one of the most heroic Christian deeds of which I have heard in my entire ministry.” Photo: Virginia Military Institute

Cadets at the Virginia Military Institute lay a wreath in Jonathan Daniels’ honor in a campus courtyard named for him. The courtyard features a plaque describing Daniels’ death and including the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assessment that the death was “brutal and bestial,” but also “one of the most heroic Christian deeds of which I have heard in my entire ministry.” Photo: Virginia Military Institute

The archway is marked by a plaque containing Daniels’ wish for his fellow graduating cadets from his 1961 valedictory address: “I wish you the decency and the nobility of which you are capable.” The Daniels Courtyard features a plaque with civil rights leader King’s response to Daniels’ death.

Each VMI entering class views the documentary Here Am I, Send Me: The Story of Jonathan Daniels.

VMI alums and the school erected a memorial in 1997 in Hayneville near where Daniels’ died. Cadets often visit the site.

Also in 1997, the military school established the Jonathan Daniels ’61 Humanitarian Award. President Jimmy Carter was the first recipient. This year, on March 11, 50 years to the day after Daniels arrived in Selma, Rep. John Lewis (D-Georgia) received the award. Lewis was a leader of the civil rights movement. During the March 1965 march from Selma to Montgomery that became known as “Bloody Sunday,” Lewis was one of hundreds of protestors who attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge heading out of Selma. Police severely beat the peaceful marchers, including Lewis, with nightsticks, fired tear gas into their ranks and charged them on horseback.

“The blood of Jonathan Daniels … helped to bring us to where we are today,” Lewis said in receiving the award.

In Canterbury, England, Daniels is among those remembered in the cathedral’s Chapel of Saints and Martyrs of Our Own Time. He and King, who was assassinated in 1968, are the only Americans on the list of 15 individual martyrs and the seven Melanesian Brothers killed in 2003 by militants during ethnic conflict in the Solomon Islands. Others honored in the chapel include Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Oscar Romero and the man who inspired the chapel, Ugandan Anglican Archbishop Janani Luwum, who dictator Idi Amin’s forces killed in 1977.

And Daniels is remembered by his hometown. A well-used trail along the Ashuelot River in Keene is named after him. Keene’s city government website offers information and resources on Daniels.

Jonathan Daniels Elementary School opened three years after Daniels’ death. The building features a large display case of Daniels memorabilia as well as artwork featuring the school’s namesake and a print of the Canterbury Cathedral chapel that includes the names of those honored as martyrs. The school has a civil rights club in which students learn more about the ongoing struggle for equal rights.

Keene’s demographics are forcing a change at the school, which will stop being an elementary school after the 2015-2016 academic year. It will reopen as a preschool. Administrative offices also will be housed in the building. Some students hope to convince the school board to rename a nearby middle school in Daniels’ honor.

Marking 50 years since Daniels death

This year, set against the backdrop of newly visible racial tensions in the United States, has been a year of commemorations of Daniels’ witness and sacrifice.

Those events are culminating this month. A weekend of events in Alabama, sponsored by the Diocese of Alabama, begins the evening of Aug. 14, Daniels’s feast day, with a program at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Montgomery. Morris Dees Jr., co-founder and chief trial counsel for the Southern Poverty Law Center, will be the guest speaker.

On Aug. 15, a larger-than-normal number of people is expected at the annual Jonathan Daniels & Martyrs of Alabama Pilgrimage beginning at the Lowndes County Courthouse Square in Hayneville. A historical marker will be dedicated at the site of the now-torn-down grocery store where Daniels was murdered. The pilgrims will return to the courthouse to celebrate Eucharist in the courtroom where Coleman was acquitted. The judge’s bench will be the altar. Presiding Bishop-elect Michael Curry is the scheduled preacher.

The pilgrimage will be webcast live here.

Curry also will preach the next day at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Selma, a parish Daniels, Upham  and others struggled to integrate.

The Diocese of Alabama plans to make video of Dees’ presentation and Curry’s Selma sermon available on demand via its website.

Also on Aug. 16, Washington National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., plans to focus its Sunday Forum on Daniels. His will be the newest figure added to the cathedral’s Human Rights Porch.

Jonathan Daniels’ funeral was held at St. James Episcopal Church, the parish that was sponsoring him for ordination, in his hometown of Keene, New Hampshire. Photo: Archives of The Episcopal Church

Jonathan Daniels’ funeral was held at St. James Episcopal Church, the parish that was sponsoring him for ordination, in his hometown of Keene, New Hampshire. Photo: The Archives of The Episcopal Church

Many Episcopal congregations in the state of Virginia will mark Daniels’ life and death on Aug. 16 as well. The Diocese of Virginia compiled liturgical resources for the day. The diocese will collect copies of service bulletins on that day and send them to St. James Episcopal Church in Keene.

In Keene, a year’s worth of events has been organized by members of St. James Episcopal Church, along with others. On Aug. 22, a commemorative weekend will begin with panel discussions featuring people who knew Daniels followed by an evening screening at Keene’s Colonial Theater of Here I Am, Send Me.

Sales, who operates the Atlanta-based SpiritHouse to work for racial, economic and social justice, is scheduled to preach during a worship service at St. James on Aug. 23. New Hampshire Bishop Rob Hirschfeld will preside. A two-mile “walk of remembrance” to the Daniels’ family gravesite will follow.

– The Rev. Mary Frances Schjonberg is an editor/reporter for the Episcopal News Service.


Comments (14)

  1. Barbara Nash says:

    Such an impressive article. I liked the remarks of Rep. John Lewis (D., GA) especially. As in the area of other civil rights one can say we have come so far and we have so far to go.

  2. Ronald Caldwell says:

    In some ways my home state of Alabama is profoundly different than it was fifty years ago when Blessed Jonathan was murdered, but in some ways it is demonstrably not. Institutional racism has been abolished. It is no longer acceptable to be openly racist. But, one could argue that racism has gone underground and remains as strong as ever. For instance, the state government is now wrestling with a terrible budgetary crisis. State law requires the state to have a balanced budget, but shortfall is serious. That means either more income or fewer expenses. The conservatives who have a lock on the state legislature have adamantly declared they will cut state services to balance the budget. The greatest cut will be to Medicaid. The director of that program says the reduction will effectively kill Medicaid in the state of Alabama. This is racism in another form. To his credit, the conservative governor of Alabama has fought hard to maintain Medicaid and raise taxes, as on cigarettes, to pay for it. The legislators so far will have none of it. They declare they are absolutely opposed to any new tax of any kind. Right now there is a stalemate, but it will have to end before the deadline of Oct. 1 when a new budget will have to go into effect. It does not take much to see what is going to happen in Alabama. Blessed Jonathan would weep. All of us Alabamians of good conscience should weep.

    1. Wendy Hallstrom says:

      Well said. While I have lived in the Northeast for almost 30 years, Alabama is my home state, and I return regularly to visit family. Although I became an Episcopalian as an adult, I attended a few Episcopal churches in rural Alabama over the years and was married in an Episcopal parish in Birmingham. Unfortunately, these parishes were all white at the time, about 20-25 years after Jonathan’s murder. Every time I return, I am reminded that while Alabama has come a long way from the Jim Crow years, there is still a lot of work to be done.

    2. Phyllis W Rogers says:

      Jonathan would not weep. He would be fighting the fight. He was not a strident man but soft spoken and would lull most listeners into his side of the story or the aisle or whatever the topic was. Sometimes he would come over to our house and tell my Mom that I was smoking or kissing boys or whatever and I thought he was everywhere watching me. I thought when I grew up I would marry him but our religions were very different and neither would have given up their religion. He had a girlfriend so there went that theory. I live in GA and do not see any of the rampant discrimination of 30 years ago. Blacks are in Rotary and in every civic club in my GA town and though there is a ways to go I am optimistic. Please don’t let him die in vain! I wish Jonathan were here today and that the AL jury that let his murderer go were not.

  3. Becky Lee says:

    I give thanks for the life of Jonathan Myrick Daniels, Martyr.

    When I remember him I think of John 15:13- “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” New Revised Standard Version (NRSV)

    Thank you!

  4. Ann Eubanks says:

    I attended the Jonathan Daniels pilgrimage today. It is one of the most important things I have ever done. Just to be to among 1,500 or more Episcopalians, all of us there to honor a young man who was willing to live his convictions. His sacrifice is a reminder to all of us of Christ’s words found in John 15:13, ‘No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends’. On my way home, I began to consider how far I am willing to go to live my faith in the world. So many times I find myself doing the easy thing, rather than the hard thing God sends us to do. I pray that the example of the actions of a brave young man will lead me follow the narrow path that God calls us to.

  5. Ann Fontaine says:

    Good work on this presentation. Will Bishop Curry’s sermon be available?

  6. Ron Dube says:

    What did Joyce Bailey do later in life?

  7. Judith Atkinson! says:

    I returned to my church, St. Paul’s Episcopal in Franklin, TN, after the pilgrimage to Haynesville, AL. As I sat down on the pew the Spirit of God came over me and I realized I was changed because of my trip to honor Jonathan Daniels and the other martyrs. Thank you.

  8. Hattie A. Martin Mays says:

    As a 15 year old Civil RIghts Foot Soldier I remember Johnathan Daniels being a permanent fixture on Sylvan Street during the Civil RIghts Movement in Selma Alabama. All of the youth loved and trusted him because of his up close and personal kind spirit. He was our Mentor and Brother In Christ. He was friendly to everybody he came in contact with on a daily basis. He didn’t just talk with us he walked with us as well whenever it was needed. Somehow I ended up with a picture of him sitting on a Volkswagen on Sylvan Street with that infectious smile to which I treasure to this day 51 years later. Jonathan spirit will always remain special to me. His innocent death remains shocking to me. May his Spirit Continue to Rest In the Fields of Peace In the Arms of Jesus. Hattie Mae Austin Martin Mays a Celebrated Foot Soldier from Selma Alabama.

  9. Joan C. Browning says:

    The lectionary says that August 14 we remember Jon Daniels and 14 other modern martyrs. Who are those others?

  10. Richard Lecuyer says:

    I was so fortunate to have taught fifth grade for sixteen years at the Jonathan Daniels Elementary School in Keene, New Hampshire, Jonathan’s and my hometown. The school was made up up of a staff of dedicated professionals, providing a superior education and a host of wonderful enrichment opportunities for its students. Jonathan would have loved the spirit that was so apparent as soon as one entered the front door and the fact that his mother, Constance Daniels, was an aide in the school and would entertain the children with stories of Jonathan’s childhood. Unfortunately, due to budget cuts and a reduction in the number of students, Jonathan Daniels School was closed at the end of the last school year, but will continue to survive as a neighborhood education center.

  11. Phyllis W Rogers says:

    I grew up with Jonathan Daniels and lived across the street from him. I knew him very well and my mother and I tried to talk him out of this mission to AL. He came to our house to ask about situations in the South and to tell us he was going. He was older as was his sister Emily who never got over his violent death. His mother certainly did not and neither has anyone who knew him. He came to see my mother who was from NC shortly before he left for AL. My mother told him not to go as he would not come back. We had great fear for him but I truly do believe he was called to this mission fraught with danger. He was unaware of the danger. We weren’t. We all tried to talk him out of this mission. We all knew then how violent Southerners could be toward those from the North and Blacks in particular at that time. Times were changing very quickly in the South and Blacks were still being lynched but times were not changing quickly enough. While visiting grandparents in NC, I was often ridiculed and called names. I was afraid while visiting. The attitudes then were about Northerners coming to the South and telling them what to do. they were resentful. My husband had to train in the South for military service and I did not want to go with him. I was still afraid. I insisted we pick a deployment in the North. Things have changed greatly as I now live in the South without fear but I will never forget those times and the rhetoric directed toward black people in the South and white people who were “liberal.” By the way, I am part Abenaki Indian and a Unitarian so I know what different is and how difficult it was/is to maintain a steady course in the Christian, white world. Jonathan was a champion to all of us.

  12. Bonnie Carroll says:

    Is there a Monument to Jonathan Daniels in Alabama? There should be. “Go fund” it.

Comments are closed.