news-record.com

Ralph Johns called himself  “a humble hero,” which indicated he was anything but humble.

A hero, yes. If he had only known how to keep his mouth shut, his role in the Greensboro sit-ins would be better known today.

Arguably, Johns was the “fifth man” in the sit-ins. He is believed to be the only person who knew that N.C. A&T students Franklin McCain, Joseph McNeil, David Richmond and Ezell Blair Jr. (now Jibreel Khazan) intended to demand service at downtown Woolworth’s whites-only lunch counter Feb. 1, 1960.

Johns, a Pennsylvania native and the son of Syrian immigrants, owned a clothing store on East Market Street.

Even before the sit-ins, Johns placed posters in the windows of his store denouncing Jim Crow customs. Other signs cheered the A&T Aggies. His store, across from what’s now the News & Record, catered to A&T students.

He decorated it with autographed photos of himself with boxers Jack Dempsey and Joe Louis, cowboy movie star Johnny Mack Brown and other celebrities.

Before World War II, when he was living in California, Johns crashed Hollywood soirees.

He finagled cameo roles in Western movies. More than a few Greensboro residents recognized him in the saddle in late-night reruns of Westerns.

He settled here after being discharged from the Army Air Corps and married into a prominent local family. In 1947, he opened his clothing store.

From the start, he was appalled at Southern segregation. His views resulted in bomb threats and other unpleasantness from white extremists. Some mainstream whites ignored him or laughed him off as a clown, jauntily dressed, usually wearing a bow tie.

A&T students viewed him as a big-hearted buddy. He joined the NAACP. If students were broke, Johns allowed them to buy on credit. He urged students to challenge Jim Crow.

At least one of the future sit-in participants had a part-time job at the store. So did the Rev. Jesse Jackson, who in 1963 led marches that integrated other businesses in downtown Greensboro.

Walking from A&T to Woolworth, the four sit-in participants stopped at Johns’ store. He was elated to hear what they were about to do.

They later heeded his advice to buy products elsewhere in the store, then sit down at the lunch counter.

That would show they were legitimate customers entitled to use all the store’s services.

Johns promised bail money if they were arrested. They weren’t.

Once the sit-ins became nationally recognized as a key event in the civil rights movement, Johns’ ego became unstoppable.

Black leaders praised him for his role, but he wanted more recognition. He called himself “the father of the sit-ins.”

In a 1989 interview with a national news service, he declared he wanted people to say, “Hey, Ralph, thanks a hell of a lot for what you’ve done.”

At sit-in commemorations Johns was saluted, but at the 30th anniversary in 1990 organizers muzzled him. They feared he would ramble on and exaggerate a role that didn’t need embellishing.

The years after the sit-ins were hard on Johns. He ran for City Council in 1961 and lost. His marriage failed. Eventually, his store closed, $170,000 in debt, much of it owed to him from customers.

He was a victim of the integration he so long had championed. Many black shoppers had started patronizing stores that once catered to white people.

Johns sought other ways to gain attention. In 1966, he offered himself as a prisoner of war in exchange for the release of American POWs in North Vietnam.

North Vietnam said no.

Johns later moved back to California, remarried and played a bit part in a segment of the TV series “Mission Impossible.”

Returning here, he started the Gate City Courier newspaper, which failed. As a reporter at press conferences, Johns dominated the event, bragging about his sit-in role and asking insulting questions.

In private, Johns was known as a cordial guy.

He returned to California and died there in 1997.

In one location, at least, Johns  ranks as the fifth man in the sit-ins.

The developers of The Turning Point, a subdivision in northeast Greensboro, in 2000 named streets for McCain, Richmond, McNeil and Khazan — and for  Ralph Johns.

Contact Jim Schlosser at 601-9879 or beale1@clearwire.net