[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 161 (2015), Part 8]
[House]
[Pages 11655-11659]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                         PORT CHICAGO DISASTER

  The SPEAKER pro tempore. Under the Speaker's announced policy of 
January 6, 2015, the gentleman from California (Mr. DeSaulnier) is 
recognized for the remainder of the hour as the designee of the 
minority leader.


                             General Leave

  Mr. DeSAULNIER. Mr. Speaker, I ask unanimous consent that all Members 
have 5 legislative days to revise and extend their remarks and include 
extraneous material on the subject of my Special Order.
  The SPEAKER pro tempore. Is there objection to the request of the 
gentleman from California?
  There was no objection.
  Mr. DeSAULNIER. Mr. Speaker, I rise today, along with my colleagues 
from the Congressional Black Caucus, to talk today to the American 
people about the tragedy of Port Chicago, California, and the injustice 
that marked the lives of 50 African American sailors in 1944 and 
continues to mark every American today.
  On my right is an overview of where the facility is. It is still an 
existing Naval facility--or a Department of Defense facility--an 
important deepwater port that allows for munitions to go to strategic 
assets in the Pacific.
  This is the map of the bay area. You can see it is in the Sacramento 
delta, as the delta comes into the San Francisco Bay. The photograph is 
an aerial photograph, obviously, of how the facility looked in 1944. 
You can see where the trains came in and put the boxcars into sidings 
that had concrete on either side to protect people from explosions, and 
then you can see where the ships docked.
  In this photograph, there is one ship docked. On the night that we 
will talk about, there were two ships loaded. In continuously operated 
shifts, those ships were loaded, as witnesses would say, in a manner 
that sacrificed safety in order for expedience.
  The fateful, moonless night on Monday, July 17, 1944, was clear and 
cool. A slight breeze was blowing from the southwest. Two cargo ships 
were tied up at the pier, Port Chicago pier. Under floodlights, work 
was proceeding at full speed, all hours.
  Shortly after 10:18 p.m., disaster struck. This is how the day of the 
explosion is described by Dr. Robert Allen in his book, titled ``The 
Port Chicago Mutiny.''
  The deadliest homefront disaster of World War II occurred at Port 
Chicago Naval Magazine, a major ammunitions facility in my district in 
northern California.
  The shipyard site was 2 miles from a little community of Port 
Chicago, population 1,500. In those days, the greater area was largely 
wheat fields and had a very small population of under 50,000. The area 
currently has a population of over 600,000.
  Indicative of the discriminatory practices at the time, all of the 
enlisted men loading ammunition at the site were African American, 
whereas all of their officers were Caucasian. The explosion killed or 
wounded 710 people, 435 of whom were African American.
  They had no formal training in safe methods of ammunition or 
explosives handling given to any of the enlisted men. The Navy failed 
to adequately provide these enlisted men with the tools necessary to be 
able to operate under safe working conditions, even after the tragedy 
struck.
  When the surviving 258 African American sailors who, understandably, 
refused to return to work in these deplorable conditions following the 
explosion, 50 were charged with mutiny and convicted.
  During this time, we seek to bring attention to the systemic racial 
discrimination suffered by these sailors while on duty, in order to 
bring perspective to the ongoing discrimination against people of color 
as we enter into the weekend which will note the 71st anniversary of 
this tragedy.
  Prior to the explosion, many officers at Port Chicago had no previous 
training either or experience in ship-loading, handling ammunition, or 
commanding enlisted men. Many of them were reservists. They were called 
to Active Duty from civilian life and given little or no training. They 
had to, as they said, learn by doing.
  Black enlisted men were also untrained. While they were very aware of 
the inherent danger of their jobs, these African Americans coped by 
discounting the risks, much by humor.
  Weeks before the explosion, the longshoremen's union of San Francisco 
warned the Navy that there would be disaster at Port Chicago if the 
Navy continued to use untrained seamen to load ammunition.
  The longshoremen's union was doing similar work in either ports on 
the West Coast and knew how to load these dangerous materials safely 
and did not sacrifice safety for speed. The union offered to send 
experienced longshoremen to train Navy recruits in the safe handling of 
ammunition, but this offer was ignored by the Navy.
  Existing policy required the Coast Guard to provide a detail to 
ensure that safe handling procedures were followed. Navy commanders 
believed that this was unnecessary and would create confusion and 
disrupt loading.
  When the Coast Guard tried to oversee operations, it rejected the 
Navy's common practice, including the practice of moving bombs by 
rolling and dropping them into place in the ship's hold. Alternative 
methods offered by the Coast Guard were considered ``ridiculous'' by 
the Navy and ignored.
  In addition, sailors were encouraged to compete against each other to 
load as much ammunition as possible into the ship, and officers placed 
nightly bets among themselves as to which division would load more and 
then pursued their individual enlisted men to make sure that they would 
win bets as small as $5.
  During the environment of this whole period, 8-day work periods were 
what were allowed by the Navy. You would have 6 days of loading 
ammunition, with a sleep break, and with meals and short rest periods; 
then after the sixth day, you would have what was called a duty day, 
which you would do duty around the facility. You had 1 day of liberty.
  Now, this, at that time, was a very remote facility and was a long 
way from Oakland, the nearest major city; but many of the enlisted men 
made that trip anyway and went back to work very exhausted.

                              {time}  1730

  Aside from the petty officers, all the officers at Port Chicago were 
white. Commanding officers believed Black enlisted men were a major 
problem rather than an asset.
  Captain Nelson Goss, the commanding officer of Mare Island, of which 
Port Chicago was a subcommand, said the Black recruits ``arrived with a 
chip on their shoulder, if not, indeed, one on each shoulder.''

[[Page 11656]]

  In actuality, these recruits joined the military to defend their 
country and to fight, if necessary, and put themselves in harm's way 
overseas. Captain Goss also complained that they were poor workers, 
capable of only 60 percent of the work compared to White workers.
  In turn, Black men resented, obviously, that only they were assigned 
to essential labor battalions charged with doing dangerous work. They 
were distressed that they could not receive the rating and promotions 
that they thought they deserved. For men working under these precarious 
conditions, the situation amounted to a new form of slavery.
  A worker described Port Chicago as a ``slave outfit,'' adding that, 
``We were considered a cheap labor force from the beginning.'' They 
believed their lives were worth less. They were treated as if their 
lives were worth less, just as their work and abilities were valued 
less.
  A group of men drafted a letter in 1943 setting their grievances and 
pointing out that the morale among the enlisted men at Port Chicago had 
dropped to an ``alarming depth.''
  On the evening of 17th, two ships--as I said, the E.A. Bryan and the 
Quinault Victory--the Quinault Victory was a brand-new ship that was 
about to embark on its maiden voyage--were both in port being loaded. 
The E.A. Bryan was almost fully loaded as they entered into the 
graveyard shift.
  In the enlisted men's barracks a short distance away, it was quiet. 
Many men were in their bunks when suddenly an unbelievable explosion 
occurred shortly after 10:18 p.m.
  Survivors in Oakland and San Francisco still remember the explosion 
from 20 and 35 miles away. People in the nearby rural communities 
continue to remember this explosion the way survivors of the earthquake 
in San Francisco did for many years after.
  The E.A. Bryan was loaded that night with 4,600 tons of ammunition 
and high explosives. Bombs weighing 650 pounds each and with their 
activating mechanisms, or fuses, fully installed were being loaded one 
at a time.
  The dock and the ship had disappeared after the explosion. The E.A. 
Bryan was eviscerated. Very few pieces were found of this large ship. 
The Quinault Victory was lifted clear out of the water in an instant by 
the blast, turned over, and broken into pieces, with very little of it 
remaining. The 1,200-foot-long wooden pier simply disappeared.
  This is the day after the explosion, and this is what was left of the 
pier.
  During the evening, the accounts talk about people in the barracks 
being completely in black because all the electricity went out. Not 
knowing what had happened, not knowing what had happened to their 
colleagues down at the pier, many of them thought they were under 
attack by the Japanese.
  I have one account from Jack Critten, who was a guard on duty that 
night. ``The barracks had a lot of windows, lower and upper deck, whole 
side was windows.'' This is a distance away from this site. ``And they 
were blown to pieces. Some guys lost their sight; others were badly 
cut. Finally, they got the emergency lights together. Then some guys 
came by in a truck. And we went down to the dock, but when we got 
there, we didn't see no dock, no ship, no nothing,'' just darkness.
  Everyone onboard the two ships and the fire barge were killed 
instantly: 320 men, 202 of whom were African American. Another 390 
military personnel and civilians were injured, including 233 Black 
enlisted men.
  This single stunning disaster accounted for more than 15 percent of 
all Black naval casualties during World War II. Property damage, 
military and civilian, was estimated at that time at more than $12 
million.
  Again, Mr. Critten recounted, ``You'd see a shoe with a foot in it, 
and then you would remember how you'd joked about who was gonna be the 
first one out of the hold if something went wrong. You'd see a head 
floating across the water--just the head--or an arm, bodies. Just 
awful.''
  Four Port Chicago seamen and one Black enlisted man were awarded 
medals for their heroic conduct in fighting the ammunition boxcar fire 
and subsequent fires that broke out that evening after the explosion.
  A proposal was presented in Congress to grant families up to $5,000 
in compensation for the loss of their loved ones. However, when 
Mississippi Representative John Rankin objected to the plan because 
most of the beneficiaries would be Black, Congress reduced the maximum 
allowable grant to $3,000.
  Four days after the explosion, a Naval Court of Inquiry convened on 
Mare Island to inquire into the circumstances of the explosion.
  Captain Nelson Goss admitted that a port director had previously 
warned him that, ``Conditions are bad up there. You've got to do 
something about it. If you aren't careful, something's going to happen, 
and you'll be held responsible for it.''
  The judge advocate of the inquiry concluded by addressing the 
question of the role of Black enlisted personnel in his official 
inquiry: ``The consensus of opinion of the witness--and practically 
admitted by the interested parties--is that the colored enlisted 
personnel are neither temperamentally or intellectually capable of 
handling high explosives.''
  In short, they blamed the victims because they were African American.
  During the weeks after and the days after, the men obviously were in 
a state of shock, troubled by the vivid memory of the horrible 
explosion in which so many of their friends had died and so many of 
them had believed would come to bear and then, unfortunately, saw the 
tragedy worse than they could imagine.
  ``Everybody was scared,'' one survivor recalled. ``If someone dropped 
a box or slammed a door, people began jumping around like crazy.''
  Many of the Black survivors expected to be granted survivor's leave, 
as was the custom at the time in the Navy, to visit their families 
before being reassigned to regular duty.
  They waited and waited to get these 30 days off to go visit friends 
and to start to process what they had seen before they would come back 
to regular duty, which they were happy to do.
  Such leaves were not granted. Even men who had been hospitalized were 
not granted leaves. All men were to be sent back to work loading 
ammunition under the same officers before. However, White officers were 
allowed to go home for 30-day leaves, all of them.
  You can see why, under these circumstances and given the tragedy, 
many of the enlisted African American survivors at Port Chicago were 
upset in the 3 weeks after the explosion.
  They continued to be treated as they were treated before the 
explosion in spite of their warnings, the warnings of the professionals 
in the longshoremen union, and the United States Coast Guard.
  So some weeks later the men were sent back to Mare Island, a short 
distance away from where Port Chicago is, across the strait, where 
munition ships were again being loaded for the war effort, an important 
job.
  As the men marched to go back to work 3 weeks after the incident, 
they still did not know where they were going as they marched.
  But they did know that, at a certain juncture in the road, they could 
be ordered to turn right, which would take them to the parade ground, 
or they could be ordered to turn left, which would take them to a ferry 
that crossed the river to the ammunition loading dock, where they would 
inevitably resume doing the same work they had done before.
  There was a young enlisted man from New Jersey who had natural 
leadership qualities, who we will hear about shortly, enlisted man 
Small.
  He actually directed the cadence as they walked back. And he 
described what happened next as he delivered the cadence and he marched 
his division back towards the pier:
  ``I was marching on the left-hand side of the ranks. When the 
lieutenant gave the command `column left,' everybody stopped dead, 
boom, just like that. He said, `Forward march, column left.' Nobody 
moved.''
  An officer asked Small, ``Small, are you going to go back to work?'' 
He answered, ``No, sir.'' The officer asked why. And he said, ``I am 
afraid.''

[[Page 11657]]

  Seen as a leader among the men, others refused to work when he 
refused to go back. Someone over in the ranks said, ``If Small don't 
go, we're not going either.''
  Mr. Speaker, 328 followed enlisted member Small and refused to return 
to work at that moment. 258 were imprisoned as a result. And shortly 
thereafter 50 were charged with conspiring to make mutiny.
  The trial commenced on Treasure Island shortly thereafter. If these 
50 were convicted of the charge, the men faced prison terms of 15 years 
or death.
  Mutiny was defined by the defense as ``unlawful opposition or 
resistance to or defiance of superior military authority with a 
deliberate purpose to usurp, subvert, or override the same.''
  Mutiny was defined by the prosecution as ``collective 
insubordination. Collective disobedience of lawful orders of a 
superior. A conspiracy to disobey lawful orders of a superior is 
mutiny'' as opposed to what we described.
  One sailor stated that, ``We didn't know you could define disobeying 
orders as being mutiny. We thought mutiny could only happen on a 
ship.''
  A refusal to work is a passive act of resistance, without intent to 
seize power. A mutiny, on the other hand, is an active revolt with the 
intent of taking charge.
  At this point, I yield to the gentleman from Louisiana (Mr. 
Richmond), the gentleman from the Congressional Black Caucus.
  Mr. RICHMOND. Mr. Speaker, may I inquire from the Chair how much time 
remains?
  The SPEAKER pro tempore. The gentleman from California has 35 minutes 
remaining.
  Mr. RICHMOND. First I would like to thank Congressman DeSaulnier for 
bringing this important issue up and highlighting, one, the 
contribution made by the sailors; two, the challenges they faced during 
this ordeal; and, three, the remarkable sense of patriotism that each 
one of them exhibited and their desire to serve our country.
  Not often do we bring up things that happened 71 years ago, 
especially things that have not gained a lot of media attention. But 
the sacrifice of every man and woman in this country, whether Black, 
White, or otherwise, deserves recognition.
  So I am honored to be a part of this hour tonight, and I feel really 
privileged that I get a chance to talk about a few of my constituents' 
families that really exemplified what is best in America and what is 
best about the American people.
  So the first sailor I will start with is Ernest Joseph Gaines. He was 
a native of New Orleans. He enlisted in the Navy in 1942, when he was 
only 20 years old.
  Before enlisting, he worked as a helper, doing sheet metal work in a 
machine shop. At Port Chicago, he was a winch operator and worked 
loading the E.A. Bryan, one of the ships that was destroyed in the 
explosion at the base.
  At the mutiny trial, Gaines testified that he had ``a lot of 
trouble'' controlling the winch he was operating. After the explosion, 
he said he became afraid of loading ammunition because he knew he could 
not control the winch.
  And just as a side note here, there was a report of trouble with the 
brake on the number one winch on the E.A. Bryan before the explosion, 
but whether it was fixed is not known to us.
  The next person I would like to talk about is Martin Bordenave from 
New Orleans. And just think about his eagerness to show his patriotism.

                              {time}  1745

  Mr. Speaker, he initially volunteered for the Navy in 1942 when he 
was 16 years old. He wanted to follow in the footsteps of his four 
older brothers, all of whom had enlisted in the Navy. When they 
discovered he was underaged, they immediately discharged him, but he 
immediately reenlisted in 1944 when he was of proper age. In the 
meantime, Bordenave worked as a painter helping his father who had a 
job painting houses. The ultimate thing with Bordenave, although his 
patriotism is remarkable, he was one of the African American soldiers 
that was injured in the explosion and hospitalized.
  Of the last two, one of which is Miller Matthews, he was born and 
raised in New Orleans, had 5 years of elementary education before 
becoming a shoeshine boy, then a busboy, and then a delivery boy, 
before finally becoming a longshoreman loading and unloading 
Mississippi riverboats for 6 years. He enlisted in the Navy in 1943 at 
the age of 27.
  Then we have Lloyd McKinney, Mr. Speaker, who was born and raised in 
Donaldsonville, Louisiana, which is another part of my district, where 
he completed 1 year of high school and then went on to work as a porter 
in a hotel and later as a helper in an auto repair shop. He enlisted at 
the age of 18 in 1942. McKinney, in the explosion, suffered lacerations 
from flying glass. But imagine this: he declined to be taken to the 
hospital because he did not want to take up space that other officers 
would need because they were more seriously injured.
  So again, Mr. Speaker, I would like to thank my colleague for really 
bringing up this story, which I am not ashamed to say is a story that 
was new to me, and I think that every day we learn more and more about 
our country, about the people who sacrificed to make this country 
great; and talking about past instances of discrimination and unfair 
treatment that African Americans went through, especially while serving 
their country, only makes this country better. It helps us share 
perspective and gives us the real-life experiences that others went 
through, which makes this country stronger, which makes this country 
better, and it breeds understanding and a love that makes us 
exceptional.
  With that, Mr. Speaker, I thank my colleague again for letting me 
participate in this Special Order.
  Mr. DeSAULNIER. Thank you, Mr. Richmond.
  I yield, Mr. Speaker, to the gentlewoman from New Jersey, 
Representative Watson Coleman, my friend.
  Mrs. WATSON COLEMAN. Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentlemen for yielding 
to me.
  Mr. Speaker, I rise today to join his call for justice for the 
sailors and their families who suffered in the discriminatory and 
callous response to the Port Chicago Naval Magazine tragedy.
  This is of particular importance to me because I have the honor of 
representing the district that the alleged leader of that protest, 
Joseph Randolph Small, had called home. It is also important because of 
where we are in the arc of history. The events of the past couple 
months have forced our Nation to do quite a bit of soul-searching on 
the topic of race and the enduring injustices felt by men and women of 
color.
  From the seemingly inexplicable use of force against unarmed people 
of color in cases like those of Walter Scott in South Carolina and 
Tamir Rice in Cleveland, Ohio, to the explicit and disturbing hate 
crime committed at Mother Emanuel, we know that the bias and 
discrimination that occurred at Port Chicago is not isolated to the 
past.
  But, Mr. Speaker, if there is any positive outcome to these 
tragedies, it is in the opportunity to heal long buried but never 
bandaged wounds. Recognizing one such wound, South Carolina recently 
voted to remove the Confederate battle flag from the grounds of its 
statehouse. Exonerating the sailors who were unfairly punished simply 
for seeking safer working conditions would help heal yet another.
  Mr. Speaker, as my colleague already described, in 1944, a segregated 
U.S. Navy used Black enlisted men with no training to do the heavy, 
dangerous work of loading ammunition onto vessels that would transport 
them to the front. That lack of training and neglect for the safety of 
those sailors led to the greatest homefront disaster of World War II 
and claimed several hundred lives--most of them Black.
  Small, who hailed from beautiful Somerset, New Jersey, led the 
protest because the survivors understood that to return to the same 
routine would mean risking another explosion. That simple protest of 
basic rights and consideration led to convictions of mutiny, prison 
sentences, and dishonorable discharges for the sailors who stood with 
Small.

[[Page 11658]]

  Before the explosion, Small had complained to the new commander that 
he was promoting inherently dangerous behavior by rewarding the sailors 
who could load the most ammunition in the shortest period of time. 
Small was ignored. And after joining his peers in protest, he was kept 
in solitary confinement during his trial and sentenced to 15 years 
simply for seeking justice.
  Mr. Speaker, exonerating these men would make right a longstanding 
injustice, and I am proud to stand with my colleagues in this call for 
action. I thank the gentleman for his work.
  Mr. DeSAULNIER. I thank the gentlewoman.
  Mr. Speaker, I now yield to the gentleman from Ohio (Mr. Chabot).
  Mr. CHABOT. Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentlemen for yielding.
  Mr. Speaker, I want to thank Congressman DeSaulnier and Congresswoman 
Lee for their leadership and drawing attention to this issue and for 
helping to bring attention to this story of injustice. The story of the 
Port Chicago 50 isn't in most textbooks or histories of World War II, 
but perhaps it should be.
  While it may not be this Nation's proudest moment, it is a part of 
our history, and it is a tragic event from which we can learn and we 
can actually grow, I think, as a nation.
  The enlisted men stationed at the Port Chicago Naval Magazine, 
including the Port Chicago 50, served our Nation proudly, and they 
served her honorably. For that, they deserve our gratitude.
  For those unfamiliar with the story, and I know it has already been 
talked about, but I would like to talk about it very briefly again.
  Following a catastrophic cargo vessel explosion on July 17, 1944, 
which killed or wounded 710 people, several enlisted men voiced 
concerns about continuing to handle munitions at the port. Among those 
voicing concerns were two gentlemen from Cincinnati, Ohio, from the 
area that I am proud to serve, Mentor Burns and Edward Lee Longmire. 
Both men enlisted in 1943. They were not lifelong soldiers with 
extensive training. They were ordinary, patriotic Americans doing their 
part to help in the war effort. Mr. Burns was a wood-turner in a 
furniture factory before enlisting. Mr. Longmire worked as a sales 
clerk selling poultry.
  Nothing in their background prepared them for handling munitions, 
and, unfortunately, the Navy at that time, did not provide adequate 
training for the men serving at Port Chicago. So it is understandable 
that the men who survived the explosion were reluctant to continue 
loading munitions without efforts to make the process safer. For that, 
they were charged with mutiny.
  Reluctance and even refusal to return to unsafe conditions and 
procedures is not mutiny; it is common sense.
  Mr. Speaker, America is the greatest country on the face of the 
globe, but that doesn't mean we don't at times make mistakes, and that 
is what happened here. Injustices like the mutiny convictions for the 
Port Chicago 50 certainly fall within that category. However, one of 
the things that makes America great is the freedom of the American 
people and the people's elected representatives to speak out against 
injustices, correct past wrongs, and strive for a better future for all 
of us.
  Mr. Speaker, we can't go back in time and prevent the convictions of 
the Port Chicago 50, but we can correct the record, and we can 
exonerate those wrongfully convicted and give their families and their 
loved ones the peace of knowing that they served our Nation honorably 
and faithfully and that they did nothing wrong.
  Mr. Speaker, it is far past time that the Port Chicago 50 received 
justice. We owe it to Mr. Burns, Mr. Longmire, and the rest of those 
wrongfully convicted and discharged. We need to set the record 
straight.
  I want to thank my colleagues for making it possible for us this 
evening to participate in this effort.
  Mr. DeSAULNIER. Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentleman for his eloquence 
and to the point of what we asked for today.
  I yield to the gentlewoman from California (Ms. Lee), my neighbor, my 
colleague, and my partner in this effort.
  Ms. LEE. Mr. Speaker, let me just start by thanking my colleague and 
my neighbor in the East Bay, Congressman DeSaulnier, for organizing 
this very important and long overdue Special Order.
  Since being elected to the House, Congressman DeSaulnier, you have 
really been doing a phenomenal job working on behalf of your 
constituents on a whole range of issues as a member of the Oversight 
and Government Reform Committee. So I know your constituents are 
thanking you, but I just want to thank you for coming and hitting the 
ground running on so many issues, including our efforts to eliminate 
poverty.
  Also tonight, it is so important, this special hour, calling for the 
exoneration of these brave and courageous men. This is an issue, I must 
say, that I have worked on for many, many years, first as a staffer to 
my mentor and predecessor, Congressman Ron Dellums, and then alongside 
your predecessor, Congressman George Miller, who was a true leader on 
so many issues.
  Some, and you may have mentioned this earlier, may know that in 1999 
we pulled together a national petition and persuaded President Clinton 
to pardon one of the few surviving convicted sailors affected by this 
tragedy. We also worked tirelessly to preserve the Port Chicago 
National Memorial through legislation, the Port Chicago Naval Magazine 
Memorial Enhancement Act, which President Obama signed into law in 
2009. So I am very pleased to see that we are here tonight once again 
calling for justice for the African American sailors at Port Chicago.
  Mr. Speaker, this story needs to be told over and over and over 
again, as we are doing tonight. And, once again, thank you for taking 
that baton, continuing to fight the good fight for justice, Congressman 
DeSaulnier.
  We stand here just days before the 71st anniversary of a national 
tragedy that is far too often forgotten. Today we remember 320 American 
sailors--African American soldiers were, I think, 200 of the 320--who 
lost their lives in the deadliest homefront disaster of World War II. 
But we also remember how deeply this tragedy was marked by, yes, 
institutional racism and the solemn duty we have to undue the legacy of 
that racism today, which Congresswoman Bonnie Watson Coleman talked 
about very eloquently.
  The Port Chicago Naval Magazine, as some may know, is located near 
Concord, California, right next to my congressional district. On the 
evening of July 17, 1944, a violent explosion ripped through the 
magazine, shattering piers, destroying vital ships, and blowing out 
windows as far away as San Francisco. As I said earlier, all in all, 
320 sailors lost their lives; 200 of them were African Americans.
  The cause of this tragedy was inadequate training and insufficient 
safety precautions around handling active munitions. All of the 
enlisted men who were unloading the active munitions onto a cargo 
vessel at the time of the explosion were African American. Our Nation's 
then-segregated military barred African American enlisted servicemen 
from active naval duty and, therefore, from receiving the proper 
training to handle artillery.
  Nevertheless, White officers at Port Chicago ordered African American 
sailors to improperly load active munitions into ships resulting in the 
tragic explosion. These men died serving their country on the homefront 
and died because their lives and personal safety were not valued by 
their commanding officers.
  But the story does not end there. Three weeks after the tragedy, the 
more than 300 African Americans sailors who survived the tragedy were 
once again ordered to continue loading ships in the same perilous 
fashion. Nearly all of them stood their ground and refused to return to 
work without proper safety conditions and ammunition training in place. 
All of those who refused to go back to work in unsafe conditions were 
arrested, and 208 of them were sentenced to bad conduct discharges and

[[Page 11659]]

forfeiture of 3 months' pay for disobeying orders.
  This is mind-boggling as I recount the history of this tonight. It is 
so sad.
  The 50 of these men who stood up for their rights and spoke truth to 
power about the value of their lives were charged with mutiny--mutiny, 
mind you--convicted and sentenced to hard labor, and dishonorably 
discharged from the Navy. They are now known as the Port Chicago 50.
  So we are here tonight, Mr. Speaker, demanding justice for their 
courage and recognition for their service. Instead of being cited for 
mutiny and dishonor, these men should be recognized for standing up to 
the specter of discrimination and racism in the Armed Forces. As the 
daughter of a retired lieutenant colonel in the Army, I remember these 
days very, very vividly as a child.
  These naval sailors, these men, showed that their courageous act of 
defiance really is part of the long history of people of color 
demanding just basic respect for their rights and their lives, which 
continues to this day. That is why it is so important for us to stand 
here tonight and remember their brave actions and how they pushed us 
towards progress in our Nation and the Armed Forces.
  But to date, only one of the Port Chicago 50 has been pardoned--only 
one. For the remaining 49, their families have been patiently waiting 
for their names to be cleared of this unjust conviction.
  So I urge my colleagues to join us in calling for the exoneration of 
these 49 sailors. These brave sailors should be remembered for their 
courage. They were heroes. They are heroes. They stood up in the face 
of discrimination and the devaluing of Black lives.

                              {time}  1800

  We must continue to tell the story, which is far too often left out 
of our narratives on civil rights; military history; and, yes, 
California history; and the history of our Nation.
  As Dr. King said and, Congressman DeSaulnier, I am reminded of this 
tonight because you are certainly showing us that Dr. King's quote, the 
arc of history is long, but it bends towards justice, this is one night 
that you are helping to bend that arc towards justice.
  Thank you again, Congressman DeSaulnier, for your leadership and 
ensuring that not only we remember those who were lost in this tragedy, 
but that we move forward and exonerate each and every one of them.
  Mr. DeSAULNIER. Thank you, Congresswoman Lee. Thank you for all of 
your support.
  I do want to thank and recognize my predecessor, Congressman Miller 
and his staff, particularly his former chief of staff, John Lawrence, 
who put so much effort into this and still has been helpful.
  I just want to conclude, Mr. Speaker, with a few brief comments and a 
quote from Thurgood Marshall and then a brief quote from Mr. Small.
  Thurgood Marshall was then chief counsel of the NAACP, and he came 
West to observe the case. During the trial, Marshall declared:

       This is not an individual case. This is not 50 men on trial 
     for mutiny. This is the Navy on trial for its whole vicious 
     policy towards Blacks. Black Americans are not afraid of 
     anything anymore than anyone else is. Blacks in the Navy 
     don't mind loading ammunition. They just want to know why 
     they are the only ones doing the loading. They wanted to know 
     why they are segregated, why they don't get promoted.

  The future Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court, Mr. Marshall, 
continued. He said:

       I want to know why the Navy disregarded official warnings 
     by the San Francisco waterfront unions--before the Port 
     Chicago disaster--that an explosion was inevitable if they 
     persisted in using untrained seamen in the loading of 
     ammunition.
       I want to know why the Navy disregarded an offer by these 
     same unions to send experienced men to train Navy personnel 
     in the safe handling of explosives. I want to know why 
     commissioned officers at Port Chicago were allowed to race 
     their men. I want to know why bets ranging from $5 up were 
     made between division officers as to whose crew would load 
     more ammunition.

  Still, these men were convicted, whereupon Mr. Marshall responded 
after the trial by saying these men were tried and convicted of mutiny 
``solely because of their race and color.''
  He continued:

       The accused were made scapegoats in a situation brought 
     about by a combination of circumstances.

  He concluded by saying:

       Justice can only be done in this case by a complete 
     reversal of the findings.

  That is why we are here today.
  Mr. Speaker, the events at Port Chicago and their aftermath played a 
role in the eventual desegregation of the Armed Forces in 1948. That 
was a good thing.
  The rebellion by the Port Chicago 50, like the civil rights movement 
of the 1960s and the ongoing conversation today on violence against 
Americans of color, are a part of a continued struggle against social 
injustice.
  Joseph Small described the events, just before his death, in an 
interview by the author of a book on the incident. Mr. Small said:

       So my only way of changing what was an impossible situation 
     was not to work. It wasn't a planned thing; it was brought on 
     by circumstances, working conditions--it was inevitable, just 
     the same way the explosion was inevitable. Something would 
     have happened to set off that explosion because of the way 
     they were handling the ammunition; it had to happen.
       What else can I say? It has been more than 40 years ago, 
     but that is more vivid in my memory than the actual court-
     martial--the conditions under which we were working, because 
     they were so appalling.

  That is apropos for many instances that we see today in our society.
  Mr. Speaker, as the Nation seeks to heal the deep racial wound that 
continues to permeate into violent acts of our fellow citizens of 
color, we must seek to rectify injustices like these in order to 
continue to forge a better future--as Dr. King said so well: 
``Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.''
  America would do well to remember Port Chicago; indeed, America must 
remember Port Chicago. For Marshall's words are more poignant today 
than ever before when he said, during the trial: ``What's at stake here 
is more than the rights of my clients. It's the moral commitment stated 
in our Nation's creed.''
  Mr. Speaker, I yield back the balance of my time.

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