In the early 1900s, an indomitable entrepreneurial spirit brought national renown to Tulsa's historic African American community, the Greenwood District. This Negro Wall Street bustled with commercial activity. In 1921, jealously, land lust, and racism swelled in sectors of white Tulsa, and white rioters seized upon what some derogated as Little Africa, leaving death and destruction in their wake. In an astounding resurrection, the community rose from the ashes of what was dubbed the Tulsa Race Riot with renewed vitality and splendor, peaking in the 1940s. In the succeeding decades, changed social and economic conditions sparked a prodigious downward spiral. Today's Greenwood District bears little resemblance to the black business mecca of yore. Instead, it has become part of something larger: an anchor to a rejuvenated arts, entertainment, educational, and cultural hub abutting downtown Tulsa. The Tulsa experience is, in many ways, emblematic of others throughout the country. Through context-setting text and scores of captioned photographs, Images of America: Tulsa's Historic Greenwood District provides a basic foundation for those interested in the history of Tulsa, its African American community, and race relations in the modern era. Particularly for students, the book can be an entry point into what is a fascinating piece of American history and a gateway to discoveries about race, interpersonal relations, and shared humanity.

Early in the twentieth century, the black community in Tulsa- the "Greenwood District"- became a nationally renowned entrepreneurial center. Frequently referred to as "The Black Wall Street of America," the Greenwood District attracted pioneers from all over America who sought new opportunities and fresh challenges. Legal segregation forced blacks to do business among themselves. The Greenwood district prospered as dollars circulated within the black community. But fear and jealousy swelled in the greater Tulsa community. The alleged assault of a white woman by a black man triggered unprecedented civil unrest. The worst riot in American history, the Tulsa Race Riot of 1921 destroyed people, property, hopes, and dreams. Hundreds of people died or were injured. Property damage ran into the millions. The Greenwood District burned to the ground. Ever courageous, the Greenwood District pioneers rebuilt and better than ever. By 1942, some 242 businesses called the Greenwood district home. Having experienced decline in the '60s, '70s, and early '80s, the area is now poised for yet another renaissance. Black Wall Street speaks to the triumph of the human spirit.

The binding persons of African descent and Native Americans trace back centuries. In Oklahoma, both free and enslaved Africans lived among the "Five Civilized Tribes" - the Cherokee, Muscogee (Creek), Chickasaw, Choctaw, and Seminole Nations. These tribes officially sided with the Confederacy during the Civil War. After that internecine conflict, the tribes-except for the Chickasaws-adopted their respective "Freedmen." The term Freedmen embraced both formerly-enslaved persons of African ancestry, and those free persons of African ancestry who lived among the tribes. In the modern era, the tribes who granted citizenship to hide their Freedmen have sought to disenfranchise them. Freedmen descendants-persons of African ancestry with blood, affinity, and/or treaty ties to the Five Civilized Tribes-still struggle for recognition and inclusion. The Freedmen debate rages in the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma, where legal battles in tribal and federal courts have waged, and a confrontation with the Bureau of Indian Affairs over the issue threatens tribal sovereignty. The Cherokee controversy is both illustrative and emblematic of larger questions about the intersection of race, Indian identity, and Native American sovereignty, Johnson traces historical relations between African-American and Native Americans, particularly in Oklahoma, "Indian Country." He examines some legal, political, economic, social and moral issues surrounding the present controversy over the tribal citizenship of the Freedmen. Wrestling with the issues surrounding Freedmen identity and rights will illuminate and advance the American dialogue on race and culture.

*Includes pictures *Includes a bibliography for further reading In the wake of the Civil War, African Americans attained freedom from chattel slavery, but continued to suffer discrimination both legal in the form of Jim Crow laws and de facto in the continued perception among the vast majority of white Americans that African Americans were at the very least inferior and at the most a constant dangerous presence in their communities who must be carefully controlled. In this way, Tulsa was no different than most cities in the region in the 1920s.Overall, Tulsa in 1921 was considered a modern, vibrant city. What had fueled this remarkable growth was oil, specifically the discovery of the Glenn Pool oil field in 1905. Within five years, Tulsa had grown from a rural crossroads town in the former Indian Territory into a boomtown with more than 10,000 citizens, and as word spread of the fortunes that could be made in Tulsa, people of all races poured into the city. By 1920, the greater Tulsa area boasted a population of over 100,000. In turn, Tulsa's residential neighborhoods were some of the most modern and stylish in the country, and the Tulsa Chamber of Commerce produced postcards and literature boasting of the virtues of life in their modern oil city. However, as a commission report about the Tulsa Riot later pointed out, "What the pamphlets and the picture postcards did not reveal was that, despite of its impressive new architecture and its increasingly urbane affectations, Tulsa was a deeply troubled town. As 1920 turned into 1921, the city would soon face a crossroads that, in the end, would change it forever...Tulsa was, in some ways, not one city but two." When they came to Tulsa, many blacks settled in the Greenwood area and established a thriving commercial, cultural, and residential area. Of course, the segregation was forced on these residents, and while they had fled the worst conditions of the Jim Crow South in other areas, they were not able to escape it completely. But in one way, Tulsa was different for African Americans, as black citizens of the city shared in the city's wealth, albeit not as equally as their white neighbors. The Greenwood district, a 36 square block section of northern Tulsa, was considered the wealthiest African American neighborhood in the country, called the "Black Wall Street" because of the large number of affluent and professional residents. In the 2001 final report of the Oklahoma Commission to Study the Tulsa Race Riot of 1921, historians John Hope Franklin and Scott Ellsworth described the Greenwood area that would be all but destroyed in one of America's most notorious riots: "In less than twenty-four hours, nearly all of Tulsa's African-American residential district--some forty-square-blocks in all--had been laid to waste..." Tragically, the decades following the riot saw the memory of it recede into the background. The Tulsa Tribune did not recognize the riot in its "Fifteen Years Ago Today" or "Twenty-five Years Ago Today" features. In 1971, the Tulsa Chamber of Commerce decided to commemorate the riot, but when they read the materials gathered by Ed Wheeler about the riot, they refused to publish any of it, and the Tulsa papers also refused to run Wheeler's story. He finally published an article in a black magazine, Impact Magazine; but most of Tulsa's white citizens never knew about it. It would not be until recently that a true accounting of the riot and its damage have been conducted, and as the 100th anniversary of the massacre approaches in 2021, the city of Tulsa is still working to complete the historical record. Black Wall Street: The History of the Greenwood District Before the Tulsa Race Riot examines the conditions and events that led to the rise of the district and what life was like there. Along with pictures depicting important people, places, and events, you will learn about Black Wall Street like never before.

From riot to renaissance in Tulsa's historic Greenwood district

This book remembers one hundred years since Black Wall Street and it reflects on the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre. Black Wall Street was the most successful Black business district in the United States; yet, it was isolated from the blooming white oil town of Tulsa, Oklahoma, because of racism. During the early twentieth century African-Americans lived in the constant threat of extreme violence by white supremacy, lynching, and Jim and Jane Crow laws. The text explores, through a Womanist lens, the moral dilemma of Black ontology and the existential crisis of living in America as equal human beings to white Americans. This prosperous Black business district and residential community was lynched by white terror, hate, jealousy, and hegemonic power, using unjust laws and a legally sanctioned white mob. Terrorism operated historically based on the lies of Black inferiority with the support of law and white supremacy. Today this same precedence continues to terrorize the life experiences of African-Americans. The research examines Native Americans and African-Americans, the Black migration west, the role of religion, Black women's contributions, lynching, and the continued resilience of Black Americans.

In 1921 Tulsa’s Greenwood District, known then as the nation’s “Black Wall Street,” was one of the most prosperous African American communities in the United States. But on May 31 of that year, a white mob, inflamed by rumors that a young Black man had attempted to rape a white teenage girl, invaded Greenwood. By the end of the following day, thousands of homes and businesses lay in ashes, and perhaps as many as three hundred people were dead. Tulsa, 1921 shines new light into the shadows that have long been cast over this extraordinary instance of racial violence. With the clarity and descriptive power of a veteran journalist, author Randy Krehbiel digs deep into the events and their aftermath and investigates decades-old questions about the local culture at the root of what one writer has called a white-led pogrom. Krehbiel analyzes local newspaper accounts in an unprecedented effort to gain insight into the minds of contemporary Tulsans. In the process he considers how the Tulsa World, the Tulsa Tribune, and other publications contributed to the circumstances that led to the disaster and helped solidify enduring white justifications for it. Some historians have dismissed local newspapers as too biased to be of value for an honest account, but by contextualizing their reports, Krehbiel renders Tulsa’s papers an invaluable resource, highlighting the influence of news media on our actions in the present and our memories of the past. The Tulsa Massacre was a result of racial animosity and mistrust within a culture of political and economic corruption. In its wake, Black Tulsans were denied redress and even the right to rebuild on their own property, yet they ultimately prevailed and even prospered despite systemic racism and the rise during the 1920s of the second Ku Klux Klan. As Krehbiel considers the context and consequences of the violence and devastation, he asks, Has the city—indeed, the nation—exorcised the prejudices that led to this tragedy?