General Enoch Woodhouse (Tuskegee Airman) on Systemic Racism in the US

The John Brown Project’s Reconasaince Team made a foray into Arlington, Virginia, to meet an American Hero, Brigadier General Enoch Woodhouse II, JD. General Woodhouse was attending the National Convention for Tuskegee Airmen, and he was kind enough to spend an hour with us talking about his life experiences with racism in America.

As part of our next musical documentary film, Pushing The Rock, we wanted to capture the perspective of one of the last surviving members of the famed 332nd Fighter Group, aka Redtails.

"I'm Brigadier General Enoch Woodhouse II, JD, a lawyer by trade, Tuskegee Airman by avocation, and a Black man in America,"

We explained what our film was about and why we'd like to talk to him…

"You know, I've had many interviews, and modestly, I can say that the subject of this interview is unique to me because we are talking about the most pressing problem in America today. Not the economy, not our military posture, not religious dissension, not political upheaval, but the question of race in America. You know, I've been all over the world, literally every country in the world except Liechtenstein—and I drove through it.

But America, we have a problem because we have to face up to the fact that racism is systemic in America. I'm not saying this out of bitterness, and I don't seek reparations. I'm not being recriminating in my statements; I'm just stating a simple fact."

The general noted racism's deep history in American institutions and illustrated the active institutional disenfranchisement that continues today.

"Now, the question of race has permeated and still permeates this country. Now, we had the Civil War. The 13th Amendment freed slaves, the 14th Amendment made them citizens—you couldn't be a citizen unless you were free—and the 15th Amendment, which is a joke, gave Black people the right to vote. Question: why are we still litigating? Why does the president, by executive order, have to enact the Voting Rights Act? This was in the '60s, you see, and still, voting for Blacks is still being hindered and destroyed. Recent campaigns, recent people involved in the media, politics—they will remain nameless, but we know who they are. Why are post office boxes moved a couple of days before the election? Why are polling places changed the day of the election? Why are people intimidated against voting?"

He hints at a later story about his grandfather by delivering a solid and simple truth: Vote.

"You know, my grandfather, the wisest man I ever knew—and I've read all kinds of books in all languages—he was a very wise man, and at 7 or 8, he told me the most important thing that I had to do as a Black man in America was to vote."

Systemic racism is not only institutional but also societal

"Wherever we go, whatever we do in America, any position—'You're the first Black person,' 'You're the first Black woman'—that should not be. Whoever the person is, no matter the color of his or her skin, that should be enough to define the action.

What do I mean by that?

Whenever there is a criminal act or something negative, you'll see, 'Roosevelt Jones, Negro.' You see, 'Mary Smith, Black woman.' Now, the only exception is when Tiger Woods makes a hole-in-one. You don't see or hear them describe Tiger Woods as 'Black, outstanding golfer.' When Venus and Serena Williams win a Grand Slam, you never hear them described as 'Venus and Serena Williams, outstanding Black tennis players.'

You see what I'm talking about?

We think unconsciously by reason of education and indoctrination—not in the schools, but at the breakfast table."

Despite Black soldiers proving valor in war after war through 150 years of American history, the National War College compiled a report on the unsuitability of Black men to serve—because of racism.

"So, we'll go on. We... we'll go to the NWC, National War College, a study on the utilization of the Negro soldier. Now, being a military guy, every military guy knows that the NWC, the National War College, is the Harvard for military training of senior officers. You can't make Colonel; you will never make General unless you have attended the National War College.

So, in 1924 or 1925, there was a study made by a nice white Christian Southern officer that, as far as utilization of Negroes in the military of the United States, we were shiftless, we had no physical prowess, we could not be trusted, and we would be cowards in the face of the enemy. Consequently, the best we could be used for would be in the service activities requiring no responsibilities, incapable of bearing arms, except to shoot each other or kill a white person. We would not be entrusted with military secrets.

In other words, the only thing we would be good for and utilized as would be cooks and stewards in the United States Navy. That was a position. Or truck drivers or people in food service or ammunition handlers."

AND, despite the 332nd Fighter Group overcoming that 1925 report to become one of the most successful squadrons in history, much of its contents still polluted the system, and he illustrated it with a personal early military story.

"And I had that same experience when I went to the Finance School in Camp Lee, Virginia. They housed me, but I couldn't eat in the dining room.

I came into camp in late 1948. They wouldn't serve me. They housed me, but they wouldn't serve me in the dining room. And I told them I'd be there for eight weeks. So, they said, 'Well, we don't have any Black officers on the base.'

So, they said, 'We'll serve you, but we'll have to put a screen around you.' So, I was hungry, but when they brought me that steak and they put the screen around me, I could not eat. I got up and left.

I couldn't eat in the enlisted mess, so I ate at the snack bar: peanut butter and jelly, hot dogs, hamburgers, and Cokes for eight weeks.

Didn't say a word. Who was I going to complain to? Me? No. Who? Human resources at that time? The only Black officer on the base. So, I sucked it up and completed the course.

Three words I use in my life: just suck it up. America is systemically racist. That's a fact."

WWI African American soldiers and fighter pilots paved the way for the Tuskegee Airmen's acceptance and inevitability.

"But like you say, from World War I, the Harlem Hellfighters—number one, if you look at the photos, they were not in American uniforms; they were in French uniforms. They were really part of the army of French African colonial troops. They did not fight under the command of Americans; they fought under the command of the French. And that's why they were given the Légion d'Honneur, the French highest honor in combat, and they were respected and loved by the French people.

They were introduced to jazz by Jim Europe's band. The directive given to the French military leaders was that they were supposed to adopt the customs of the United States, where there was no mingling, there was no fraternization of American men with the French, and the French should keep away from that, particularly the French women, as that was the custom in the United States."

"Yeah, well, Eugene Bullard—I’ve read a couple of his biographies—it was very crucial for me to know that he first tried to apply for pilot training in the United States. He was denied. He went to France, learned to fly, and fought with the—I think it was the Lafayette Escadrille, or one of those outstanding flight units.

Now, when he came back to the United States, the only job he could get was driving an elevator in a hotel. And as far as I recall from history, he is buried in New York, and the French consul, formerly—I don't know if he still does—visits his cemetery. And from World War I, we all know that Bullard was the first African-American fighter pilot."

"Now, about that fighter pilot business, an interesting thing happened at Tuskegee. When my dear friend Claude R. Plunkett Jr. was a flight trainer at Tuskegee, the job was to fire as many pilot cadets as possible, to reach the minimum requirements of the Army Air Corps. Number one, they didn't want the program. Now, when you were a cadet at Tuskegee, the word of your instructor pilot struck the pilot. He could have you washed out. He could just say, 'He has no coordination,' or, 'You know, he's unsuited.' And his word was law.

The guy can't hack it; he's out. So they did this to Claude Plunkett, and the commander looked at his record, and he says, 'You're doing this to Claude Plunkett? We can't do that because Claude Plunkett was already rated with the Canadian Air Force.' Well, lo and behold, he was a member of the RCAF—you know, the Royal Canadian Air Force. I think a lot of people don't know that. But no, Claude Plunkett Jr.—I think he just passed; he lived in California—he was one of our few Tuskegee Airmen that was doubly rated. By the U.S., he had pilot wings, and he had American wings."

And he credited the Black press with pushing that inevitability up the hill.

"The Tuskegee experiment—and it was an experiment—because it was created not out of necessity of the war, but it was the result of the Black press. The Chicago Defender, The Pittsburgh Courier, saying Black people should have the opportunity to fly and do everything that every American does."

Two personal stories illustrate that despite slanted playing fields, there's usually someone willing to stand up and do the right thing.

One story was about getting into Officer Candidate School, and another was about getting into (and graduating from) Yale Law School.

"I enlisted at 16 and a half. When I was a private at Ogden Field, Hill Field, Utah, outside of Salt Lake City, I was assigned to Squadron F. Now, the Army Air Corps at that time designated squadrons by their function. Squadron A was usually administration; B would be mechanics; Squadron F would be 100% occupied by Black people like myself.

And, of course, we had white officers who were not the best that the government had to offer. I have never seen a pot-bellied, tobacco-chewing captain in my life. He could pass for Archie Bunker. And we had two lieutenants—good men—but they were former prisoners at the stockade. So, you know, they were really nonfunctional. They were just there to keep watch over us.

No military arts, no functions. I think we had maybe one or two formal formations in our Class A uniform because we all wore fatigues, refueling the aircraft, removing the snow, driving trucks around to put coal in the place."

"And, of course, being the enterprising guy that I try to be, I looked for the easiest job. When you were refueling, in your coveralls—we didn't have camo or anything—the odor of that fuel would just stick with you even when you took a shower.

So the two jobs that I thought had a little dignity were a truck or staff car driver because you could, you know, have your Class A uniforms on. When you're picking up officers from the flight line, generals, driving them over, you couldn't be in your coveralls. So I had that job for a while. And then the best job I thought I would get, which was for a Black person, was a waiter in the Officer’s Club because then you had to wear a nice white shirt, a red jacket, and you could have good food you ate, which you could take home when you got off your shift."

"So what happened to me? My favorite—I’ve always been a literary person, not that I'm bragging—but to keep up to date, I would always carry, and I didn't even bring it today, was the Inferno of Dante. Being, you know, religious, traditional, his statements from the 13th century are still existing today. This is what permits me to survive because of two things, two words: human nature. And what he said—it wasn't a racial thing—wealthy people like wealthy people, artists stick together, theologians stick together. It's not that they don't object to anybody, but you're facing the facts."

"So to make a long story short, on my thing as a waiter in the Officer's Club, I had this book of Dante, and everyone had left the club, and I had left my copy in the cafeteria. So this young lieutenant, he probably was intelligent, well-read, he says, 'Whose book is this?' They left it there. Now, I was reluctant to say that it was mine because my grandfather said educated Blacks are a threat to society—not to all white people—but I'm disrupting the system. So, reluctantly, I said, 'Mine.'

So, he was curious. It was the book of Dante, but it was what we call a parallel translation, the medieval Italian and English translation. Well, anyway, he recommended me to OCS, and I was commissioned, went so forth, and I was commissioned at 19. One of the youngest."

"Had I read that in a Southern state, which we'll talk about later, I would have been killed because it was against the law for the southern courts for Blacks to read."

General Woodhouse comes back to his grandfather.

"Now, why do I call my grandfather the wisest man I've known? I've studied at Yale, lectured at Harvard, been all over the world. Because he just told me one thing: what it is to be Black in America.

Now, the thing that stands out in my mind was when I received my letter of acceptance from Yale University. And you know, Yale, however, they do things in a big way. When you get your letter of acceptance, it's a big thing, with the pictures of Yale, and the seal, and all of these wonderful people—no Blacks, but they're good Yalies.

And I received that letter of notification, and my grandmother, mother, and grandfather were all present in my grandmother's living room. They were all jumping up, excited. 'Oh, son, we're so proud of you. You're going to Yale,' and so forth. My grandfather was sitting in a corner with a smirk on his face, like Malcolm X and Louis Farrakhan give their smirk, like Muhammad Ali when a ridiculous question is asked or when something is going to happen and they know the result is not what you expect. With a smirk.

"When my grandmother said, 'William, get up and say something to the boy,' my grandfather got up with a smirk. He came over to me, and he said, 'Who are you?' I said, 'Grandpa, you know who I am. I'm your grandson.' 'I didn't ask you that. I asked, what are you?' Before he gave me an answer, my grandmother and mother knew where he was coming from.

He was going to tell me how he was going to prepare me for Yale. And with that, he did something that he's never done before. He kissed me on my lips. Men in our family, we don't kiss on the lips. We hug, we don't kiss. But he kissed me, and he whispered in my ear, 'Son, you are a...' And he used the N-word. He says, 'I'm telling you that because I love you, and when you get to Yale and you hear that, I don't want you to be hurt.'

Wasn't that something?

"I was shocked. Yale, wonderful. Stone buildings, professors. I was still... And you know what? He was right. Because the first day I got to Yale, my dormitory, I got notes under my door. And I wish I had saved them because someone in my entry—I was in Berkeley College—someone in my entry slipped that under my door. And that was three times in three nights. I wish I had saved them, but I thought of what my grandfather said. When I read them and tore them up, I laughed. To me, it was a joke. My grandfather, with a seventh-grade education from Virginia, prepared me for the hallowed halls of Yale.

And the same thing happened: the first Black person I saw at Yale was on graduation day.

"I was living in a single. You know, when you're coming in for your first year, first day of class, you look around for your roommate. You don't want a slob, you don't want a party guy. You want someone like you that's serious. So A was going to B, X was going to Y, and I was the sole guy standing, no roommates, all alone.

But you know what? You have to just suck it up. That's the way it was for me. So I was left alone. But you have to face up to who you are, what you're represented to be, and what people think you are.

But there's always, nine times out of ten in my life, there has always been one person to stand up and do the right thing. But you have to have faith in human nature.

So the master came up and said, 'Mr. Woodhouse, you don't seem to have a roommate, but I'll find a place for you.' His name was Thomas C. Mendenhall III, who became president of Smith later. So he put me up in the single suite where all the millionaires were."

He mentioned something that’s in our script, but that we didn't ask him about. Nazis used American laws to model the Nuremberg Laws.

"Now, I have to mention this: the Black Codes, as they were called, from Louisiana mostly, were incorporated by Hitler. He copied those laws into the Nuremberg Laws. You know, Jews could not sit on the park bench, Jews were barred from all professorial positions and professions, and a German woman could not associate with a Jew. Speaking of Nazis, he offered insight into Black soldiers' thoughts on a couple of World War II generals. And while we're on that subject, it's not skipping, but I have to come up with these anecdotes to drive home the point of systemic racism. It's not a bad thing; it's a fact. As we say in Italian, 'It is what it is.'

"What two generals do all Americans from World War II respect and revere? Two generals from World War II are respected and revered by every American Black. Not Brad, but General George Patton. He told the Black troops, 'You're not cooks and bakers anymore. You're not just ammunition carriers. You're American soldiers. Pick up your damn rifles and fight. You're going to be tankers; you're going to fight like anybody else. We need cooks and bakers, but you're not all cooks and bakers.' I'm proud to say I am close friends with the Patton family today.

"The other one, which no one would guess, is Field Marshal Erwin Rommel. He captured thousands of American troops during the North African campaign. The senior American officers wanted to segregate the troops, saying, 'You have to segregate the prisoners. We don’t have Blacks and whites together.' Rommel said, 'You're all Americans. The only way you'll be segregated will be according to your rank per international custom.' So, you ask the average GI from World War II, and they respect Rommel for really integrating or letting us know we don't always have to be segregated. We're all wearing the same uniform, and the bullets strike all of us—they don’t just strike Blacks.

We thanked him for his time and asked him what the most important thing we should discuss today was.

He said it was the upcoming election.

“Well, I think we have to prepare for the future to be practical, and we have to be careful not to be polarized and not let the polarizers divide us. This next election is going to be a donnybrook. What happened before—disputing the election fraud and all that stuff—is going to happen again. Why not? And I'm not a doomsayer; I'm a realist. You know, the objections done before, which are still going on, why not go on again? I mean, this is the reality.

So, I think all of us have to let cooler heads prevail. We may get a few bumps; we may have assaults on our Congress the way that we did. This is what I mean—we cannot ignore what happened before. If you're a realist, what is going to stop it from happening again? Leopards do not change their spots. But we're hopeful, and hope still exists. I'm just saying to everybody, everyone I know, you better get out and vote now.

"If everyone votes, the result will be so clear. I mean, it can't be like it was before—100,000 or 200,000. It really has to be decisive so that no one can say our election was not fair. It better be because if it’s like before, with a couple of hundred thousand votes, either side can contest it because both sides will think the other side did something wrong.

We're in crucial times. I'm happy to have spent the time I had with you, being 97 and 8 months old. I'm concerned with what lies ahead for the next five or ten years.

That said, meanwhile, back in Beijing, Moscow, North Korea, and the Middle East, no one has to do anything. And reading history, most civilizations are destroyed from within.

We have potential. There are many books going on about America's civil wars, and these are not doomsayers but soothsayers.

But we can all be hopeful, and all we can say in conclusion is, get out and vote.'