Harvey Johnson: first black mayor of Jackson, Mississippi

Ebony, August, 1997 by Kevin Chappell

Lord have mercy, we're going to have a Black mayor in Jackson, Mississippi," says a matriarchal woman in the midst of life's winter but awash with green gaiety at the thought of her city's rebirth. "I never dreamed I would live to see the day."

She then hugs Harvey Johnson, her dreammaker, the city's trailblazer, the ultimate renaissance man who defied the odds, oddsmakers, troublemakers naysayers and political pundits in his historic rise from the son of a garbage man and cleaning lady to the first Black mayor of Jackson.

In a city--still considered by some to be one of America's most racially divided towns--and in a state with a steep history of bigotry and intolerance, Johnson's mayoral victory in June served a resounding notice that there indeed is a New South desperately trying to live down a stubborn reputation that has dogged it for at least the last 30 years.

Johnson represents this new era and was elected, in large part, because his campaign successfully transcended race and outlasted the die-hard racists, who were once again up to their old tricks. They ambushed him with labels and called him names. But none stuck. They said he wasn't qualified. But 70 percent of Jackson voters said otherwise. They tried to dig up dirt on him. "But the handles on their shovels weren't long enough," Johnson jokes.

They tried nearly everything to stop progress, but in the end it prevailed, as did Johnson, who now realizes that all eyes will be on him, and what he does or does not do in office the next four years may forever shape race relations among Jackson's 200,000 residents. "We have come a mighty long way in this city," an emotional Johnson told cheering supporters on election night. "This is much larger than me. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time."

The 50-year-old Johnson was a teenager in 1960s when Black leader Medgar Evers was gunned down outside his Jackson home, and civil rights foot soldiers were murdered, beaten and falsely arrested in Jackson during the midst of the Freedom Movement. He remembers vividly those days and is the first to admit that Mississippi continues to have problems dealing with race. "But so do other states," he says emphatically. "We are improving as far as understanding each other. We have made progress, but there continues to be more progress that has to be made."

The executive director of the Mississippi Institute of Small Towns, Johnson ran for mayor on a platform of unity, pulling the city together racially and economically. He realizes the city and the state have severe image problems to overcome. "Because you come from Mississippi, you are somehow considered backwards, but that's not the case," says Johnson, a Democrat who made an unsuccessful run for mayor in 1993. "The state gets a bad rap given its history, but I hope my election gives people here something they can be proud of."

The new mayor wants to create a strong business class that will provide quality jobs for the city's residents, which in turn will increase the tax base and provide money to improve services in the city that is 60 percent Black. Included in his plans is the development of a stronger Black business community, which he hopes will change Jackson's identity and bring new respect to the state capital.

Johnson compares his mission to that of Maynard Jackson, Atlanta's former mayor who successfully formed groundbreaking partnerships between the local, national and international business communities--and White and Black business owners and residents--to spur Atlanta's transformation from a Southern transportation hub to a world-class city worthy of hosting the last year's Summer Olympics.

A graduate of Tennessee State University and the University of Cincinnati graduate school, the former Air Force captain never really thought about going into politics. He always wanted to be an attorney, and had planned to make Cincinnati his temporary home. But he moved back to Mississippi in 1972 at the urging of his father, who said, "Boy, you ought to go to Jackson to get a job."

After knocking on doors seeking employment, he finally found work in the governor's office as a community planner, even though he had no experience in the field. He received on-the-job training and soon came to love being a planner. He later served as a political science professor at Jackson State University, a state tax commissioner and a commissioner on the powerful Mississippi gaming board, which awards much-coveted gambling licenses for the state's lucrative casino cruise boats.

Johnson believes his greatest asset is his credibility ("Whether they like me or not, they know I'm going to stick by my word.") and his ability to communicate with people. ("I talk to everybody. I try not to get into a position that I don't listen to people.")

That trait, he says, was instilled in him during his childhood. Growing up an only child in Vicksburg, Miss., Johnson recalls always being the youngest person around. "My mother and father were older when I was born," he says, "so I remember always being 50 years younger than the people I was around."