Archer-Ragsdale Arizona Chapter Tuskegee Airmen, Inc

It’s a new day in paradise!

Published since 2008, !TFAM is a bi-weekly lifeline that unites readers and asks them to
ensure the Tuskegee Airmen’s legacy of excellence. !TFAM provides an inside view into
the lives of Tuskegee Airmen and the people they influence.

I am trying out a new format. Making !TFAM more of a history lesson about the Airmen
and others that contributed to their story and ours. Focusing on our strength, tenacity,
and resilience, to name a few characteristics that account for the Airmen being true
heroes.
It seems to me that we need to be reminded of who we really are.
I’ll start today’s edition by sharing a few stories from the Airmen and about a few of
them, as well as an article from the New York Times, which was written by my newest
favorite opinion writer, John McWhorter.

But first, a suggestion to some of our elected and appointed TAI leaders.
Somewhere in your adorable little heads I want you, “our elected
representatives” to know that it is very important that you know Tuskegee

Airmen history and Tuskegee Airmen, Inc. history.

Knowing the history of the organization that you were elected to represent is
vitally important. Start by reaching out to folks that held your position three,

six, nine, twelve, fifteen, and twenty-one years ago.

You will learn a lot.

This piece from Robert Ashby first appeared in TFAM on July 1, 2016. It
appeared a second time a few years ago. It will be new to some and very

familiar to others.

From Robert “Bob” Ashby, Tuskegee Airman

I, Robert Ashby graduated as a B-25 Pilot with the Rank of 2nd Lt, November 1945
at Tuskegee Army Air Field. The War was over and reduction in the Armed Forces
was instigate I was given the opportunity to continue on active duty, I enjoyed flying
and accepted to continue in a career field that I enjoyed. I was assigned to the
task force that was completing the closing of Tuskegee Army Airfield; Pilots
returning from overseas were also assigned to this project. Our first project was
to ferry all of the B-25’s to Kingman Army Airfield, AZ. On one of the flights we
stopped at El Paso Field, TX, observed German POW Officers had free run of the
Officers Club, even though Black Officers were not allowed to enter.
Orders finally arrived, but to my surprise the orders were to Ft Monmouth, NJ, not
Godman Field. I thought all would be clarified once I arrived at Ft Monmouth. It
was more confusing when I found out that I was being assigned to Yokota Airfield
in Japan, as a 2nd Lt., I had little say in the matter. There were other Black Officers
waiting departure, heading to Army Camps in Japan, we all travel together by train
to Seattle, WA. It was a beautiful trip, seeing parts of this country that I had never
seen the flat plains of the mid-Country, Colorado Rocky Mountains, the Cascade
Mountains of the west coast. Upon arrival at Seattle, WA, I called one of my
classmates, Norman Proctor, that was discharged during the downsizing at
Tuskegee, who lived in Seattle. We spent many enjoyable days running around
the City, riding in his old car that did not have severable brakes, which was a little
nerve racking, we would sail down the hills coming to a cross street, if no cars were
approaching we would cross, and if cars were present we would turn and join traffic.
Good thing at that time there was not much traffic. Finally it was time to board the
Transport to begin the journey to Japan.
As a 2nd Lt, I was assigned the worst job on the ship, Police and Sanitation Officer,
which entailed keeping the Ship clean with half of the personnel throwing up
frequently, including me. Making inspection with the Colonel, going up and down
the stairs my biggest problem was not to throw up all over him. After each
inspection I would hurry back to bed and lie down until the next inspection, after
three days I was able to survive the sea sickness. It was a long trip to Alaska,
Korea, and then Japan, 21 days. Arriving at Yokohama, Japan, observing the
Japanese unloading the ship my thoughts turned to wondering about the reception
we would have with the Japanese this was right after the War, what hostility
awaited. Observing the dress of the Japanese, many wore on their feet wooden

clogs or socks with section for toes, the women with their everyday kimono style
wrap around, it was a new experience. At the Replacement Depot I received
orders to go to Nagoya by train, it was an overnight trip so I had a sleeper, this was
a very old train and the sleeper was crudely constructed of wood, only about 5’ 6”
long, so I could not stretch out. The toilet was a hole in the floor with a handle to
hold onto while squatting, it was a miserable trip. Upon arrival at Nagoya Airfield
and reporting in, it was evident that they was not going to accept me. I was right,
they immediately cut orders sending me back to the Replacement Depot, another
miserable trip. No one would listen to me, so orders was cut sending me to
Tachikawa Airfield which was only a short distance from Yokohama and Tokyo,
but the result was the same, I was sent back to the Replacement Depot It finally
dawned on them so they looked around for a Black outfit, there was the Tokyo
Quartermaster Depot, I sent a letter to FEAF Hdqts asking for Airfield assignment
for flying requirements to maintain my proficiency which required at least 4 hours
flying each month. Orders came back taking me off Flying status, so I sent another
letter requesting reassignment back to the States to the 32nd Fighter Wing it was
denied and stated that I would have to serve the 3 years overseas tour.
Looking back at the experience that I obtained, I learned so much more than flying
an Airplane that helped me so much in my career. I was assigned to one of the
Black Trucking Companies as an Adjutant, where I learned how to operate a
Company that included everything even a Mess hall. Performed duties such as
Officer of the Guards, Commander of Army Band that performed at all Military
functions around the Tokyo area, regular events at the Famous Ernie Pyle Theater,
served two years as Assistant Judge Advocate and conducted Special Court
Marshalls, even acted as Defense for Special Court Marshall. Found out there
was another Tuskegee Airmen with the Infantry in Japan, 2nd Lt James Harrison
who was two Classes ahead of me at Tuskegee, he had gone through the same
problems I’d had.
After three years I was assigned to the 332nd Fighter Wing at Lockbourne AFB,
OH, January 1949, after a vigorous flight check by Maj, “Bull” Knox on my flying
skills was returned to flying status. I was assigned to the 332nd Group to utilize my
skills in addition to flying; one of my great mentors was Lou Hill. It was great being
back with the Wing and the Officers that I knew, but this was short lived because
in July 1949 the Black Air Force was no more. I went on with my career with
assignments to Air Training Command, Air Defense, Tactical and Strategic Air
Command flying everything from Single and twin engine props to single, Twin, Four
and Six Engine Jets, and Spot promoted to Lt Col after 3 I/2 years as a
Major. Retired October 1965.
Robert Ashby
Lt Col USAF Ret.

Tuskegee Airman Clarence Shivers

How many of you are familiar with Clarence Shivers’ story? Like many Airmen,
the story that continued after WWII continues to be noteworthy. Clarence
Shivers has been a member of the Lonely Eagles Chapter for several years,
but I encourage you to look him up and tell his story. Here’s a bird’s eye view
of the philanthropic work he and his wife, Peggy Shivers, were involved with.
Peggy Shivers continues their carry their good work forward.
Clarence and Peggy Shivers inaugurated the Shivers African-American Historical and
Cultural Collection in 1993 with a substantial gift. A major fund raiser – the Shedding
Light Celebration – is held over the Thanksgiving holiday biennially. These Celebrations
have been extremely successful and are the major source of funding to fulfill the
educational enrichment mission.
Objectives

• Provide scholarships to young people interested in the study of classical
  performing and visual arts.
• Present classical concerts showcasing grant recipients and professional African-
  Americans talents.
• Expand contributions to Pikes Peak Library District through materials, workshops,
  and other educational presentations.
• Provide opportunities for the community to come together in celebration of
  History, Culture, and the Arts
  Awards
• Charles Burrell Award
• Girl Scouts Woman of Distinction Award (Peggy)
• NAACP Living Legends Award
• NAACP Community Service Award
• Colorado Library Association Benefactor’s Award
• Urban League Community Service Award
• Colorado College Community Diversity Award
• Ent Credit Union YES Award
• African American Voice Citizen of the Year (Clarence)
• Delta Sigma Theta Sorority “Hats Off “ Award (Peggy)
• Urban League Whitney M. Young, Jr. Lifetime Equality Award
• Alpha Phi Alpha Fraternity Citizen of the Year Award
• Selected as Colorado Springs Heroes for the Children’s Week Calendar
• Resolutions of Appreciation from the Colorado Springs City Council, El Paso
  Commissioners, Pikes Peak Library District Board of Trustee, PPLD Foundation
  Board, and Friends of PPLD Board
• Local charter school now named Shivers Academy of Arts and Technology
• Jacqueline Lundquist “Kara” Grant
  Achievements
• Annually expands the African-American Historical and Cultural Collection at Pikes
  Peak Library District
• Created an Endowment to support the mission of the Shivers Fund
• Sponsors a concert series showcasing young artists
• Sponsors Classical Chat with Youth Workshops following each concert
• Awards a $1,000 scholarship to a deserving youth annually
• Provides grants for student participation in the Music Festival at Colorado College,
  the Vocal Arts Symposium at Colorado
• College and the Colorado Springs Children’s Chorale
• Collaborated with the Colorado Springs Chamber Orchestra (A Shivers Fund
  alumni was guest artist at the concert)
• Provided small grants to various youth and organizations within the community

Speaking of Lonely Eagles – Henry L. Moore
April 8, 2017 would have been Henry L. Moore’s 96th birthday. Mr. Moore was
a huge TAI booster, a voice of reason, and was TAI National Parliamentarian
at the time when he joined the Lonely Eagles.

Henry Moore was a true gentleman. We could disagree and he was never
disagreeable. A pleasure to know and we thoroughly enjoyed sitting with him
and listening to him talk.
This bio was written by members of his fraternity. I thought it offered another
point of view of our beloved Henry Moore. Not mentioned in the obituary is
the fact that Mr. Moore spoke fluent Italian.

It is with heavy heart, the brothers of the Eastern Region announce the passing of
the Honorable Bro Henry L. Moore of the Nu Sigma Chapter of Phi Beta Sigma. We
ask that all men of the Eastern Region stand by the brothers of Nu Sigma and the
family of Brother Moore as they go through these tough times. Following you will
find a bio of this amazing brother.
From his humble beginnings in Ocilla, Georgia in April 1921, Brother Moore
graduated from high school as valedictorian. His educational pursuits would lead
him to West Virginia State College now known as West Virginia State University
resulting in his B.S. in Physics/Math/Education. Later, he would get his M.A. in
Physics at Temple University.
Brother Moore’s military career is distinguished. Some of his highlights include:
· Graduating in the only class of Airplane Maintenance Engineers
established for blacks by the United States Army Air Corp at the 789th
Technical Training School (Lincoln, Nebraska)
· Joining the Tuskegee Airmen of the 332nd Fighter Group
· Serving with the 99th, 100th and 302nd Fighter Squadrons ( 3 of
the 4 all-black fighter squadrons)
· Maintaining Fighter aircraft of 12th and 15th Air Forces
· Flying as a Crew Chief, behind enemy lines, on a B-25 bomber in
Mediterranean Theater.

His distinctions include 7 battle stars, and ribbons from the European and
Mediterranean Theater. President Franklin D. Roosevelt awarded him the
Presidential Unit Citation for his role of supporting 1,600-mile mission
escorting bombers over Berlin, Germany in March 1945.
Post military, Brother Moore held positions of Research Physicist, Supervisory
Electronic Engineer and finally as Chief of Electronic Countermeasures,
ECM/ECCM Section of the United States Naval Air Material Center, where his
first retirement would take place in 1973. His second retirement would take
place in 1983 after affiliations with Roosevelt Middle School and Lincoln High
School.

Brother Moore has been married to his college sweetheart, Mary Ion, for 53
years. Of this union, he celebrates his two daughters, Nadene and Meva. Finally,
he has been a member of Summit Presbyterian Church since 1960.
Below, one of my favorite pictures of Mr. Moore Tuskegee Airmen, Col (ret) Charles
McGee and Clarence Finley at Robbins Air Force Base. Mr. Moore is on the left.

Coming up next, more from Henry Moore
Henry Moore recaps his family’s path to freedom to flight.

from slavery to flight

Dear readers,
A little background: This started with an email I received in January 2011. The email
came from Clovis Jones, member of ARAC chapter, his son’s blog was picked up by
an online magazine. I shared it with TFAM readers and a few responded. Henry
Moore’s reply was noteworthy.
If you are interested in US history and the multi-generational transmission process
of equality and freedom in America beginning with enslaved people to the labor
movement, to women, to the elderly and to the LGBT community, then I think you
will find it noteworthy.
Mapping America’s Brutal Past, and Humanity’s Capacity for Revolt is the title of
Imara Jones’ blog. Unfortunately I was not able to locate the article.

And now, Henry’s reply…
Yes, Clovis,
Your son is keeping history alive. Hats off to him! When I saw that lead
picture of the family in Savanna, (Chatham County, GA) it took me back to
1926, when I was five and really began to realize my plight. Take that family
of twelve, Mom, Dad and ten children and expand that to sixteen, Mom Dad
and fourteen children, and move them 200 miles west, and you have my
family. My mother, a widow with four, married Dad, a widower with five, and
they had five. There were twelve of us in or near the plantation house at the
same time! There were many hands to pick the cotton.
Born in a dirt floor cabin on Mr. Albert Nobles’ place in Irwin County, near
Ocilla, Georgia, in 1921 there was no place to go. To survive you obeyed the
master, who was the owner of the plantation, just as the slaves did sixty years
before. I would say that more than 50% of the residents of that county, were

slaves. Also, an equal amount or more further north in Crawford County,
Georgia, where my mother was born (her sister born into slavery there) were
slaves until 1865. My grandfather, Lucius Worsham was born of the white
slave plantation owner, Lucius Worsham and an African/Cherokee Indian
slave, Elija in 1832. He and another slave, Mary, had twelve children, one
(Aunt Berta) born into slavery in 1863; Mom was the youngest, born in 1886.
Pop was born on another plantation in 1874 (ten years after emancipation).
So you see, we were/(are) barely removed from slavery. All of my
grandparents were slaves.
My family looked just like that family in Savannah, but I’d say we were worse
off; none of us had shoes (I see one pair there). We were free, and you’d think
we would have just up and left the plantation, but there was no place to go.
We had no contact up north, and we feared cold weather. That is, before
World War II, when we all migrated.
So you imagine what happened when I graduated from High School (in
1940), tried to join the US Army Air Corps and they were not accepting
Negroes! I almost became a citizen of Canada. The rest is history. Keep the
history alive!
Henry Moore

This next article is from today’s, November 21, 2024, edition of the
New York Times.

John McWorther, OPINION

It’s noteworthy. Take a few more minutes and read it. It has nothing
to do with the Airmen, or does it?

Pablo Delcan
Cleopatra is not our mother”�”

The myth of ancient Egypt comes at a s teep price

By John McWhorter

Since the 19th century, a strain in Black American culture has claimed ancient
Egypt as ancestor and inspiration. A fascination with that long-ago land has
permeated Black art deeply enough to seem like one of its very foundations. In
the early 20th century, the emblem of the N.A.A.C.P. house organ, “The Crisis,”
looked like a sphinx, and many covers featured beautiful Egyptian motifs. In the
1990s, many thinkers warmly embraced the book “Black Athena” by the historian
Martin Bernal, which made the claim — since rather roundly debunked — that
the ancient Greeks had stolen much of the glory of their culture from “Black”
Egypt. So strong has this current of thought been that it fills an exhibition
currently on view at the Metropolitan Museum of Art titled “Flight Into Egypt:
Black Artists and Ancient Egypt, 1876-Now.”
Beautiful work, make no mistake. But I have always found something
problematic about this focus on ancient Egypt as a historical precursor to
American Blackness. I’m going to step aside from the controversies over just what

color the ancient Egyptians were. The simple fact is that Black Americans are not
on the whole their descendants. They are the descendants of all of Africa, a vast
and endlessly varied continent. Its peoples have warred with and until not so very
long ago even enslaved one another, as rampantly as humans worldwide always
have. It is home to over 2,000 languages — almost every third language in the
world. Preferring and massaging the single halcyon dream of ancient Egypt
misses all of that rich diversity, misreading the historical record and depriving us
of the true richness of our heritage.
Most likely not a single enslaved Black person was brought to America from Cairo
or Alexandria. They were brought to America from the West African coast, from
what is now Senegal down to Angola. Senegal alone is over 3,000 miles across a
desert to the southwest of Cairo as the crow flies — about as far as New York City
is from Anchorage or Dublin. Black America tracing itself to Egypt makes as
much historical sense as would Czechs deciding to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day,
seek out first editions of James Joyce and favor tartans as an expression of being
European.
Sure, all cultures mythologize their past to an extent. Ta-Nehisi Coates in his new
book, “The Message,” argues that as Black people, “we have a right to imagine
ourselves as pharaohs.” But we also have a right to imagine ourselves as sultans,
maharajahs or New Guinea hunter-gatherers. What was wrong with what we
actually were?
This question is especially urgent as the abiding fondness for the Egypt idea tends
to sideline the astonishing history of the empires that enslaved Americans
actually emerged from and amid. In the 13th century, the Mali Empire produced
a kind of Magna Carta called the Kouroukan Fouga. It was mindful of the rights
of women to a degree surprising for any document before, roughly, Ms. magazine,
counseling respect for “women, our mothers.” It stipulated that a man’s insanity
or impotence was justification for a woman to seek divorce. European history
teaches us to associate ancient empires with the ambition of overseas exploration,
and the Mali Empire was no exception. Musa, the grandson of the empire’s
founder, Sundiata Keita, sent out hundreds of ships to explore the great beyond.

South of Mali in what is today Angola was the kingdom of the Kongo, which was
ruled in 1625 by Manikongo Garcia II. The historian Simon Sebag Montefiore
has described him as holding “court amid Flemish tapestries, wearing Indian
linens, eating with cutlery of American silver in the company of titled Kongo
nobles and bishops in red sashes, while secretaries took dictation.” His rival was
the queen of the neighboring Ndongo kingdom, Nzinga Mbande. She dressed in
men’s clothes and excelled as a warrior; in off hours she enjoyed male
concubines. Surely a ripe source for creative imagination.
In what we now call Benin once stood the Dahomey kingdom. Its capital could
boast 12 palaces, festooned with bas-relief carvings depicting the history of the
kingdom, every bit as impressive as what visitors see at the Met’s Egyptian
rooms. King Houegbadja, who ruled in the 17th century, went about with an
entourage of female soldiers. All of this is grounds for celebration and creativity
that does not require drawing an imaginary line from King Tut to Will Smith.
I suspect that one reason Black Americans are drawn to ancient Egypt is that it
may seem grander, more advanced than the West African empires. But that
impression is based partly on how well Egypt’s monuments have survived in
desert conditions. Monuments of the West African empires, hewed from forested
regions and long since grown over, can be harder to reconstruct.
The history of ancient Egypt, too, is preserved in more detail than that of most
West African empires because Egypt had a writing system. But that doesn’t mean
that the society was more sophisticated. Enormously complex societies thrived in
antiquity without writing, such as the Catalhoyuk in Turkey and the Cahokia in
Illinois.
Of course, Black Americans aren’t the only ones who fetishize ancient Egypt. In
the 18th and 19th centuries, many European and American thinkers participated
in an Egyptology craze. It elevated ancient Egypt, with its Rosetta Stone,
Cleopatra and such as “civilized” while casting sub-Saharan Africans as
dismissible primitives. The philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel, for
example, was renowned for his contemptuous take on the sub-Saharan region he
called “Africa proper” — in effect, the real Africa. For him, this region was
“unhistorical” with an “undeveloped spirit”

That attitude lingered. When I was a young language-loving kid, I got a coloring
book about the celebration of Christmas in 19 countries. I enjoyed it so much that
I still have it. Each entry describes the customs in both English and the country’s
official language. There was a serious flub, though: The description of Ethiopia’s
customs was rendered in Swahili, which is not spoken in Ethiopia; its national
language is Amharic, a relative of Hebrew and Arabic. By the standards of 1972
when the book was written, including an African country at all was ahead of the
curve, but it seems that a residual sense of overgeneralization was still at play. I
can’t see them as having described Denmark’s Christmas traditions in German.
The beauty of modern American Blackness is not a function of sphinxes, Nefertiti
and hanging out with ancient Greeks. When creating and burnishing our stories,
our myths, our art, we should remember where we really came from. They are all
around us. In the 1930s, the pioneering Black linguist Lorenzo Dow Turner found
speakers of the Gullah Creole language on the coast of South Carolina and
Georgia who could still sing songs in the Mende language of Sierra Leone. The
reason peanuts are called goobers in the South (and in the candy that’s popular at
movie theater concession stands) is that they were called nguba in the Kikongo
language of Angola and other countries.
Kunta Kinte, in the book and later two miniseries of “Roots,” spoke the Mandinka
language of the Mali Empire. Mythology is relevant here. Alex Haley, who wrote
the novel, claimed that “Roots” was based on historical sources, but it has since
become clear that he largely concocted the story of his ancestors, expanding
shreds of fact into fiction he later called “faction.” OK, “Roots” is legend rather
than scholarship. But at least it depicts one of Black Americans’ true places of
origin.
I wish we could let go of the idea that ancient Egypt is Black Americans’ common
heritage. My cheek swab traces me to Senegal and Angola. Preferences will differ
on this, but as for me, I get ancestral pride from my relatives here in America,
such as the fierce great-aunt I knew as T.I., who could sprint up subway steps
without missing a beat at 92, or Mom Springer, who was a more or less out
lesbian and jazz saxophonist in the 1920s. If I need some Africa in the mix, the

enlightenment of Kouroukan Fouga and the fierceness of Nzinga Mbande do me
just fine.
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That’s all for now.
I love you madly!
L. Sunnye Simpson
Editor and publisher
!TFAM is a publication created by L. Sunnye Simpson and is not affiliated,
in anyway, with Tuskegee Airmen Inc. Any mention of Tuskegee Airmen
Inc. is done so at the discretion of the editor.
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