Paul E. Cosby

Perceptions in Contrast

My wife and I were on a holiday visit to her folks who live just above Columbus, but on the Alabama side of the river, in the village of Langdale. It must have been in February or early March in 1957 or '58. The day was dark and dreary and quite cold. We came to Americus and had to ask circumspectly for directions to Koinonia. We probably asked black people, because in those days it would have been dangerous for any white people to know I was heading for your place.

We found the farm without too much trouble, and someone found Clarence Jordan for us. Since we had arrived unannounced and unexpected I was not sure that such an important man would see me. But he did, interrupting whatever he was doing to take me to his house and sit and chat with me for a great long while, in which I learned from him the story of Koinonia, its founding and purpose, and the present stresses of living under constant threat of physical violence and the reality of economic boycott of Koinonia products. Clarence told me of KKK ride-by shootings and showed me the marks that bullets had made on the walls of the room in which we were sitting, which as I recall was on a second floor. He told me of how saner members of his family had sent down from Tennessee, or wherever they were from, to fetch him home, seeing as how he was crazy to face all this opposition.

We spoke of other things, then met a few of the people living there, who showed me the pecan house. I remember the physical facilities being spartan and plain. But more than that I remember the grace and kindness of Clarence and the others, whose lives and presence exuded peacefulness and calm. Their courage and determination encouraged me later on to do my little part in helping the races to a better understanding of each other. My visit to Koinonia on that cold day was a profoundly moving experience for me.

After my visit, we drove into Americus where we found a family who were distantly related to us. The man of the family was the county superintendent of schools. Since it was not our habit to be in Americus or to visit them, we were asked what brought us to their fair city. I told them of my visit to Koinonia and of my impressions, whereupon the Superintendent responded by saying what he perceived to be the opinion of most white folks in those parts: "Koinonia is a cancer that should be removed." I wondered then as I do now if he approved of the actual and implicit violence inflicted upon the community. I am happy to know that not only has radical surgery not been necessary, but also that instead of being a malignancy, Koinonia has been a benign growth that has led in the struggle for peace, love and justice, not only in Americus but throughout the world.

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