Even though I’m prepared for surprises, imagine my amazement when, one day last week, Review Managing Editor Clay Lambert walked up to my desk and asked off-handedly if I had ever heard of James Reeb.
“Yes,” I replied. “Actually, my grandfather wrote his biography.”
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With a personal connection to Reeb, and a strong belief that his story should be told, my grandfather undertook the challenge to write a biography of his friend and colleague. A half-century later, I found myself across the continent and on assignment at the home of James Reeb’s daughter, photographing his grandson reading the book written by my grandfather.
Caught up in a moment of synchronicity with sisters Karen and Anne Reeb, I remarked that it seems we share a combined legacy: both families committed to civil rights, the Howletts are meant to tell the story of the Reebs.
The election of Barack Obama has renewed interest in the history of the civil rights movement, including the life and death of James Reeb, a man eulogized by Martin Luther King, Jr. and mourned by a country. President Lyndon Johnson called Reeb’s death “a national tragedy.”
James Reeb and Duncan Howlett didn’t live to see a black president. Reeb’s life was cut short by racists in Selma, Ala. My grandfather lived to be 97 and to celebrate the new millennium, but most presidents during his lifetime looked much like he did, white elderly men with gray hair. As children and grandchildren of the civil rights movement, it is hard for us to realize the effort and sacrifices undertaken by previous generations and how these dreams and commitments have affected the world that surrounds us.
History was made a week ago, not because we elected a black president, but because the president we elected happens to be black. And while I certainly believe there is a long road ahead of us in overcoming racism in our families, communities and country, I am encouraged that our country allows people from all backgrounds to assume positions of leadership and power based on merit and not on class privilege or the color of their skin.
Photographing Karen and Anne Reeb on Saturday was a way of reflecting upon and paying tribute to the effort and sacrifices made by the generations of our families that preceded us. We share the gift of marking a historical moment made possible in part by our parents and grandparents along, with so many recognized and untold others.
Lars Howlett is chief photographer for the Half Moon Bay Review.
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