[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 151 (2005), Part 9]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Page 12191]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




TRIBUTE TO GEORGIA JONES AYERS: COMMUNITY LEADER, CIVIL RIGHTS CHAMPION 
                             AND ROLE MODEL

                                 ______
                                 

                         HON. KENDRICK B. MEEK

                               of florida

                    in the house of representatives

                         Thursday, June 9, 2005

  Mr. MEEK of Florida. Mr. Speaker I rise in tribute to Georgia Jones 
Ayers, a community servant and civil rights pioneer who for decades has 
spent her days righting the wrongs she sees in society. I have known 
her for many years, and, I can speak from first-hand experience about 
the positive impact she has had on our community and on the lives of 
countless young people. She says what she thinks, she stands up for 
what she believes in, and she works hard to achieve her goals. She is a 
person of intelligence, determination and accomplishment.
  Some of Ms. Ayers' experiences and deeds were recently chronicled by 
South Florida's preeminent political reporter, Michael Putney, in an 
article that ran in the Miami Herald on June 1, 2005. I want to share 
this article with my colleagues, so they can get a sense of this 
remarkable woman's character.

                 [From the Miami Herald, June 1, 2005]

          Community Actiivist, Injustice is a Great Motivator

                          (By Michael Putney)

       Community activist Georgia Jones Ayers carries more than 
     memories of racism in Miami; she carries the proof. She keeps 
     it in her purse as a constant reminder. It's a yellowed, 
     well-worn abstract of title to her grandmother's home in 
     ``Railroad Chops (sic), Colored Addition.'' That's the home 
     where Ayers, now 76, was born and raised. And which her 
     grandmother, Eliza Pierce, lost to the city of Miami, in a 
     racist land grab and for $3.29 in unpaid taxes. The tax sale 
     is dated Aug. 29, 1924.
       ``It's because of this,'' she says, brandishing the legal 
     document like a dark talisman, ``that I am who I am and do 
     what I do.''
       For more than half a century, Ayers has worked to right 
     what she considers wrongs done to her community, and by her 
     community. Currently, she runs Alternatives to Incarceration 
     out of the Metro Justice Building where first-time offenders 
     are released to her custody to complete programs that allow 
     them to avoid having a permanent criminal record.
       Then there's her Janet Reno New Chance Alternative School, 
     which takes disruptive sixth-to-eighth graders and instills 
     discipline and learning in them. ``I don't believe in 
     brutality,'' Ayers says, ``but when I was in school I'd get a 
     spanking for arriving late. These days you tell 'em you're 
     going to tan their backside, and they say they'll call HRS 
     (the predecessor to DCF). But that's what some of 'em need.''
       Make no mistake, Ayers is tough. And smart. And still angry 
     after all these years about the injustice done to here 
     grandmother.
       She says that her grandfather, Charles Pierce, went in 1923 
     to pay the overdue property taxes with $100 he had saved from 
     his job with Henry Flagler's railroad. But he was never seen 
     again--probably murdered for the money.
       ``My grandmother would have paid those taxes if she'd been 
     able to read,'' Ayers told me. ``But she was illiterate and 
     couldn't read the notices. So she lost her home for a few 
     dollars.'' It was on land in Allapattah between 46th and 50th 
     streets and 12th and 14th avenues that had been set aside for 
     black railroad workers. But Ayers says whites eventually 
     wanted the land and found ways to seize it. First, through 
     foreclosure because of unpaid taxes.
       ``And then on Aug 1, 1947 at 11 a.m. the police came in and 
     evicted 35 families, including mine, because they wanted the 
     land for an all-white school.''
       That was Allapattah Elementary. Ayers attended Liberty City 
     Primary, the predecessor to what is now Charles R. Drew 
     Elementary. On the 25th anniversary of the McDuffie riots we 
     stood across from the school in an empty lot at Northwest 
     62nd Street and 17th Avenue. One of the many empty lots along 
     Martin Luther King Boulevard since the 1980 riots.
       ``I knew Arthur McDuffie,'' she says. ``He sold insurance 
     like I did for many years. He was a sweet, gentle man.''
       On the Saturday in May 1980 when four Metro policemen were 
     acquitted of beating McDuffie to death, Ayers went to the 
     Metro Justice Building with other black leaders to organize a 
     peaceful protest. ``We wanted an orderly meeting where people 
     could vent their anger,'' she recalls.
       The anger could not be contained. Injustice is a great 
     motivator. It's what keeps Ayers going with vigor.
       She's upset that Haitian immigrants fail to recognize or 
     respect what American blacks went through here before they 
     arrived. She's upset that black kids who struggle to learn 
     standard English are expected to learn Spanish. ``I'm not 
     prejudiced against Haitians or Cubans. I just want people to 
     respect our heritage.'' She says this caressing that abstract 
     of title, which is smooth from touching but still carries a 
     sharp sting.
       I generally reject the idea of reparations for slavery. 
     Many generations stand between us and the direct victims, 
     although the shame of slavery endures. But Ayers is still 
     very much alive, and she carries proof of the racism that 
     robbed her family. Twice, in fact. How do we repay her? I'm 
     not sure, but we can begin by simply saying thank you for 
     channeling so much anger into so many good works.

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