Houston Educator Target Of 1950s Inquisition

An attorney acting as the front man for anonymous anticommunists, turned the May 4, 1953 meeting of the Houston school board into an inquisition by accusing the new deputy superintendent of political heresy.    An attorney acting as the front man for anonymous anticommunists, turned the May 4, 1953 meeting of the Houston school board into an inquisition by accusing the new deputy superintendent of political heresy.

    Sen. Joseph McCarthy was in his heyday working frightened followers into a frenzy with his reckless claims of insidious subversion.  For many apprehensive Americans, it was easy to believe that the government and important institutions were crawling with commies.  After all, former diplomat Alger Hiss was serving a short prison sentence for spying, and the Rosenbergs were only a month away from execution for sharing atomic secrets with the Soviet Union.

    The Wisconsin witch-hunter had devoted disciples in every community in the country, but few were as rich and influential as the Houstonians who sang his praises and imitated his tactics.  Chronicle publisher Jesse Jones, an FDR cabinet member, used the power of his press to promote the crusade, while oil tycoon and philanthropist Hugh Roy Cullen hailed McCarthy as “the greatest man in America.”

    Doctors’ wives and the spouses of oil company executives gave the local chapter of the Minute Women, an anticommunist lobby created in Connecticut in 1949, its missionary zeal and pit-bull tenacity.  Compared to the well-to-do vigilantes, frontier lynch mobs seemed downright timid.

    The school board had a history of succumbing to pressure to keep ideological objectionable material out of the classroom.  A civics textbook was trashed because of a trivial reference to public education and the postal system as examples of socialism.  A gung-ho administrator, who purged the United Nations from the curriculum and banned art books containing nude paintings, was congratulated instead of canned.

    Dr. William E. Moreland, superintendent of Houston schools, searched far and wide before offering the job of deputy to a Portland, Oregon educator in July 1952.  He was delighted by George Ebey’s acceptance and even happier, when the board unanimously endorsed his choice.

    But a wary watchdog was far from pleased and promptly published a mimeographed critique entitled “We’ve Got Your Number, Dr. Ebey.”  Citing his encouragement of “non-discriminatory behavior” in the racially mixed Portland schools, the author warned the newcomer would deny Houstonians the right to “cherish their prejudices.”  In defense of the segregated status quo, she maintained “responsible citizens of both races prefer the traditional American manner of living to that advocated by Socialists and Communists.”

    The Minute Women turned out for the deputy’s debut but as always spoke as “concerned citizens” rather than sorority sisters.  The finger-pointers were shocked by the hostile reaction from school board president James Delmar, who chastised them for their “underhanded and un-American” comments.

    Ebey enjoyed a relatively rancor free autumn, as the Minute Women concentrated on the school board election.  Two members and the husbands of two others, all of whom carefully concealed their secret connection, conducted a scare campaign under the slogan “Keep America strong by keeping your schools safe from creeping Socialism and abortive Communism.”  Half of the slate succeeded in winning the voters over to their side.

    In January 1953, the prolific pamphleteer penned a second attack.  This tirade took Ebey to task for his involvement in the American Veterans’ Committee, a liberal alternative to the American Legion and VFW.  As California chairman, he was accused of coddling known communists.

    Ebey acknowledged the presence of “reds” in the AVC but emphasized the participation of Ronald Reagan, Henry Cabot Lodge and Harold Stassen.  He resisted an attempt to kick out the communists because in his opinion the struggle would have wrecked the organization.

    The Minute Women recruited a willing attorney to serve as their surrogate for the next phase of the character assassination.  In a May 1953 appearance before the board, he added Ebey’s opposition to the Franco fascists in the Spanish civil war and state-mandated loyalty oaths to the list of reasons for not renewing his contract due to expire in August.

    After a heated two-week debate, the board hired a team of former FBI agents to investigate the besieged deputy.  On Jul. 10, the sleuths submitted a 348-page report that cleared Ebey of communist sympathies but documented his New Deal liberalism.

    Five days later, the board convened to decide the educator’s fate.  Ebey rejected a last-minute plea from the panic-stricken superintendent, who begged him to resign rather than risk putting his neck on the chopping block.

    The school board president broke a 3-3 deadlock by voting to give George Ebey his walking papers.  He rationalized the decision by blaming the victim rather than the witch-hunters for the controversy that “has split our entire community.”

    Bartee Haile welcomes your comments, questions and suggestions at haile@pdq.net or P.O. Box 152, Friendswood, TX 77549.  And come on by www.twith.com for a visit!