‘History is powerful’: Civil rights veterans call Selma key in current voting rights fight

Inside Selma’s Tabernacle Baptist Church, long-time civil rights advocates Hank Sanders and Faya Rose Toure watched intently as a new generation of leaders took to the pulpit. For the couple, the gathering was more than a ceremony; it was a necessary stand against a democracy they see under fire.

A Legacy of Struggle and Civic Duty

Toure, who captured the event’s powerful speeches on her phone, shared her perspective with 205focus.com, noting that despite the current political climate, she remains fueled by hope. The couple, who have served as fixtures in the legal and political landscape of Selma for decades, were present to oppose ongoing efforts in Alabama and across the nation to redraw congressional districts in ways that critics argue diminish Black representation.

Though they were not on the main stage in Montgomery or the pulpit in Selma, Sanders and Toure—formerly Rose M. Sanders—are architects of the city's modern civil rights legacy. In 1992, they launched the annual commemoration of Bloody Sunday, marking the 1965 day when peaceful marchers were met with violence at the Edmund Pettus Bridge. That historic confrontation was a catalyst for the federal Voting Rights Act of 1965, yet today, that same legislation remains the center of intense debate.

Bridging the History Gap

Reflecting on the early days of their advocacy, Hank Sanders, a former longtime Alabama state senator, recalled how the Bloody Sunday commemorations were once small, intimate affairs. Today, those efforts have expanded, including the founding of the National Voting Rights Museum & Institute near the bridge. Organizers of the “All Roads Lead to the South National Day of Action for Voting Rights” recently highlighted the necessity of these sites, incorporating Selma into a broader movement that culminated in Montgomery.

For Toure, the challenge is ensuring the younger generation understands the cost of their rights. “The children in Selma don’t know about the bridge,” she said. “They don’t understand that the vote can bring us more justice and more power. This is not just about the vote. This is about whether we’ll have a democracy.”

Fighting for Selma’s Future

Civil rights veteran Annie Pearl Avery, who was present during the original 1965 demonstrations, echoed these concerns. She argued that after the hard-won victories of the 1960s, a sense of complacency set in, allowing critical federal protections to weaken. “We dropped the ball on everything,” Avery said. “You’ve got to watch everything because it can get away from you real quick.”

The city itself continues to grapple with significant hurdles, including economic disparity, crime, and a shrinking population. Once home to nearly 30,000 residents, the city's population has dropped to approximately 16,000, ranking it among the fastest-shrinking cities in Alabama.

Sanders and Toure acknowledge that internal divisions have hindered the city's growth, but they are increasingly optimistic about finding a path forward. The couple emphasizes the need for a unified “master plan” to ensure that the global interest in Selma translates into tangible investment and progress for the community. As Toure headed toward the bridge for the final march, she offered a note of optimism: “For the first time, I see some unity here.”