By 1865, although Atlanta and the Confederacy still lay wounded in the wake of the Union victory, black higher education began its thrust for recognition. Some of the first of the American colleges formed specifically for the education of black students were founded in Atlanta, Georgia. These schools continue, over a century later, to educate, train and inspire. Through an engaging collection of images and informative captions, their story begins to unfold. Atlanta University was the pioneer college for blacks in the state of Georgia. Founded in 1865, it was followed by Morehouse College in 1867, Clark University in 1869, and Spelman and Morris Brown Colleges in 1881. By 1929, Atlanta University discontinued undergraduate work and affiliated with Morehouse and Spelman in a plan known as the "Atlanta University System." A formal agreement of cooperation including all of the Atlanta colleges occurred in 1957, solidifying the common goal and principles each school was founded upon-to make literate the black youth of America. Today, the shared resources of each institution provide a unique and challenging experience for young Africa Americans seeking higher education. The schools boast a long and distinguished list of alumni and scholars, including W.E.B. DuBois, James Weldon Johnson, Martin Luther King, Henry O. Tanner, and C. Eric Lincoln.

This exhaustive analysis of Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) throughout history discusses the institutions and the major events, individuals, and organizations that have contributed to their existence. The oldest HBCU, Cheyney University of Pennsylvania, was founded in 1837 by Quaker philanthropist Richard Humphreys as the Institute for Colored Youth. By 1902, at least 85 such schools had been established and, in subsequent years, the total grew to 105. Today approximately 16 percent of America's black college students are enrolled in HBCUs. Historically Black Colleges and Universities: An Encyclopedia brings the stories of these schools together in a comprehensive volume that explores the origin and history of each Historically Black College and University in the United States. Major founders and contributors to HBCUs, including whites, free blacks, churches, and states, are discussed and distinguished alumni are profiled. Specific examples of the impact of HBCUs and their alumni on American culture and the social and political history of the United States are also examined. In addition to looking at the HBCUs themselves, the book analyzes historical events and legislation of the past 174 years that impacted the founding, funding, and growth of these history-making schools.

The Quiet Trailblazer recounts Mary Frances Early’s life from her childhood in Atlanta, her growing interest in music, and her awakening to the injustices of racism in the Jim Crow South. Early carefully maps the road to her 1961 decision to apply to the master’s program in music education at the University of Georgia, becoming one of only three African American students. With this personal journey we are privy to her prolonged and difficult admission process; her experiences both troubling and hopeful while on the Athens campus; and her historic graduation in 1962. Early shares fascinating new details of her regular conversations with civil rights icon Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. at Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta. She also recounts her forty-eight years as a music educator in the state of Georgia, the Southeast, and at the national level. She continued to blaze trails within the field and across professional associations. After Early earned her master’s and specialist’s degrees, she became an acclaimed Atlanta music educator, teaching music at segregated schools and later being promoted to music director of the entire school system. In 1981 Early became the first African American elected president of the Georgia Music Educators Association. After she retired from working in public schools in 1994, Early taught at Morehouse College and Spelman College and served as chair of the music department at Clark Atlanta University. Early details her welcome reconciliation with UGA, which had failed for decades to publicly recognize its first Black graduate. In 2018 she received the President’s Medal, and her portrait is one of only two women’s to hang in the Administration Building. Most recently, Early was honored by the naming of the College of Education in her honor.

This gathering of sixty images, along with the essays that frame them, gives us a new way to think about the too often troubled status of historically black colleges and universities (HBCUs). The bell in the clock tower at Atlanta’s Morris Brown College bears an inscription about the ideal of educational access, that it be “without regard to sex, race, or color.” Yet most of the Morris Brown campus has lain silent for more than a decade. Established in 1881, it was all but shut down in 2002 after years of fiscal hardship were capped by a mismanagement scandal. Pride still runs high among its alumni, however, and its current leadership vows to revive the school. Meanwhile, as Andrew Feiler’s stirring photos show, Morris Brown is literally falling apart. In the spirit of those photographers who have documented the physical decline of our valued institutions—from small family farms to entire cities—Feiler points his lens at one embattled place and dares us to look away. Aiming to “open minds, trigger emotion, stimulate discussion, and, perhaps, prompt action,” his images project a new layer of meaning onto the Morris Brown story. We see classrooms, dorms, gym facilities, and other spaces no longer alive with students, faculty, and staff but rather mired in a state of uncertainty where hopes of normality’s return mutely battle a host of unwelcome alternate futures. We see how time passes without regard for academic years, regular maintenance cycles, or the other comings and goings that would ordinarily call attention to the leaks, invading animals, acts of vandalism, and other forces working to peel the paint from Morris Brown’s walls, buckle its floors, and molder its furnishings. We see garbage piling up alongside sports trophies, scientific equipment, and other vestiges of the prouder past we would rather remember. Feiler’s photos are accompanied by writings that address the college’s profound impact on one family, history and memory, the documentary and narrative powers of photography, and the place of HBCUs in American public life. Images and text combine powerfully to show us what happens when a place meant to be honored is left to its own.

Founded only two years after the end of the Civil War, Atlanta's Morehouse College to this day remains one of the few traditional men's colleges in the United States. Originally dedicated to an all-black student body that was focused on studying the ministry and education, today the school welcomes students of all races to a full range of liberal-arts studies. The extraordinary history of the school was first explored in 1917's *History of Morehouse College,* written by the then-dean of the college. From its founding and early presidents to the roster of illustrious alumni and their work through the early years of the 20th century, this is an important document of African-American history, and includes the school's original charter and lists of students and graduates from 1871 through 1916. African-American author and educator BENJAMIN GRIFFITH BRAWLEY (1882-1939) wrote extensively on black culture.

Black college football began during the nadir of African American life after the Civil War. The first game occurred in 1892, a little less than four years before the Supreme Court ruled segregation legal in Plessy v. Ferguson. In spite of Jim Crow segregation, Black colleges produced some of the best football programs in the country. They mentored young men who became teachers, preachers, lawyers, and doctors--not to mention many other professions--and transformed Black communities. But when higher education was integrated, the programs faced existential challenges as predominately white institutions steadily set about recruiting their student athletes and hiring their coaches. Blood, Sweat, and Tears explores the legacy of Black college football, with Florida A&M's Jake Gaither as its central character, one of the most successful coaches in its history. A paradoxical figure, Gaither led one of the most respected Black college football programs, yet many questioned his loyalties during the height of the civil rights movement. Among the first broad-based histories of Black college athletics, Derrick E. White's sweeping story complicates the heroic narrative of integration and grapples with the complexities and contradictions of one of the most important sources of Black pride in the twentieth century.

From the memories of everyday experience, Living Atlanta vividly recreates life in the city during the three decades from World War I through World War II--a period in which a small, regional capital became a center of industry, education, finance, commerce, and travel. This profusely illustrated volume draws on nearly two hundred interviews with Atlanta residents who recall, in their own words, "the way it was"--from segregated streetcars to college fraternity parties, from moonshine peddling to visiting performances by the Metropolitan Opera, from the growth of neighborhoods to religious revivals. The book is based on a celebrated public radio series that was broadcast in 1979-80 and hailed by Studs Terkel as "an important, exciting project--a truly human portrait of a city of people." Living Atlanta presents a diverse array of voices--domestics and businessmen, teachers and factory workers, doctors and ballplayers. There are memories of the city when it wasn't quite a city: "Back in those young days it was country in Atlanta," musician Rosa Lee Carson reflects. "It sure was. Why, you could even raise a cow out there in your yard." There are eyewitness accounts of such major events as the Great Fire of 1917: "The wind blowing that way, it was awful," recalls fire fighter Hugh McDonald. "There'd be a big board on fire, and the wind would carry that board, and it'd hit another house and start right up on that one. And it just kept spreading." There are glimpses of the workday: "It's a real job firing an engine, a darn hard job," says railroad man J. R. Spratlin. "I was using a scoop and there wasn't no eight hour haul then, there was twelve hours, sometimes sixteen." And there are scenes of the city at play: "Baseball was the popular sport," remembers Arthur Leroy Idlett, who grew up in the Pittsburgh neighborhood. "Everybody had teams. And people--you could put some kids out there playing baseball, and before you knew a thing, you got a crowd out there, watching kids play." Organizing the book around such topics as transportation, health and religion, education, leisure, and politics, the authors provide a narrative commentary that places the diverse remembrances in social and historical context. Resurfacing throughout the book as a central theme are the memories of Jim Crow and the peculiarities of black-white relations. Accounts of Klan rallies, job and housing discrimination, and poll taxes are here, along with stories about the Commission on Interracial Cooperation, early black forays into local politics, and the role of the city's black colleges. Martin Luther King, Sr., historian Clarence Bacote, former police chief Herbert Jenkins, educator Benjamin Mays, and sociologist Arthur Raper are among those whose recollections are gathered here, but the majority of the voices are those of ordinary Atlantans, men and women who in these pages relive day-to-day experiences of a half-century ago.