Racial Relations South Carolina

After decades of debate and mounting pressure from an NAACP boycott, South Carolina finally removed the Confederate flag from atop its Statehouse on Saturday in a somber ceremony that paid tribute to its Civil War roots. The flag, seen as a reminder of slavery for some and a tribute to Southern heritage for others, flew atop the Statehouse dome for 38 years.

After decades of debate and mounting pressure from an NAACP boycott, South Carolina finally removed the Confederate flag from atop its Statehouse on Saturday in a somber ceremony that paid tribute to its Civil War roots. The flag, seen as a reminder of slavery for some and a tribute to Southern heritage for others, flew atop the Statehouse dome for 38 years.

As a barber in this small community--and before that a mail carrier for 21 years--Modest Keenan likes to say he knows everybody in Union. So when he stopped in at a convenience store almost two weeks ago and the clerk showed him a sketch of a man accused of kidnaping two little boys, Keenan could say with authority: "This doesn't look like anybody in Union." He immediately suspected a hoax.

The NAACP, fighting a compromise to move the Confederate battle flag from atop South Carolina's Statehouse to a nearby monument, threatened on Tuesday to step up an economic boycott of the state if its Senate did not reject the plan.

The NAACP, fighting a compromise to move the Confederate battle flag from atop South Carolina's Statehouse to a nearby monument, threatened on Tuesday to step up an economic boycott of the state if its Senate did not reject the plan.

The Citadel in Charleston, S.C., where a black cadet was hazed by whites last fall, has achieved much in race relations but insensitivity remains a problem, according to results of an internal investigation. The report concluded that almost all black cadets object to the playing of "Dixie" and the waving of the Confederate flag at football games, while white cadets are split on the issue.

If the Rev. David Kennedy hesitated, if he felt a twinge of doubt when the tattooed homeless man asked for his help, a single glance at the children baking in the back of the pickup truck in the midday sun was enough to make up his mind. Whippet-thin, with Confederate flags stenciled on his arms, the stranger looked like a rough character--the kind of white man who ordinarily would have little to do with an activist black preacher.

Gov. David Beasley persuaded most of South Carolina's leading politicians Wednesday to join his effort to move the Confederate battle flag off the Statehouse dome. Beasley, a Republican, gathered the bipartisan support in hopes of resolving a bitter feud over the flag, which many blacks say symbolizes slavery and racism. The compromise would move it to a Confederate monument on the Statehouse grounds. U.S. Sen.

Students in Greenville, S.C., who want to take advantage of Bob Jones University's decision to drop its ban on interracial dating will need a note from their parents. Bob Jones III, the school's president, announced an end to the ban last week. On Monday, he told nearly 4,000 students at a daily chapel service on the campus that they must tell their parents if they become involved in an interracial relationship. "We will carry out the will of your parents," he said.

Bob Jones University's decision to lift its half-century-old ban on interracial dating has stunned students and the fundamentalist Christian school's supporters who learned about it Friday night in a nationally televised interview with President Bob Jones III. "I don't think even his own secretary knew what he was going to do," school spokesman Jonathan Pait said. Thousands of students and supporters gathered at the university's auditorium to watch Jones' interview on CNN's "Larry King Live."

Students in Greenville, S.C., who want to take advantage of Bob Jones University's decision to drop its ban on interracial dating will need a note from their parents. Bob Jones III, the school's president, announced an end to the ban last week. On Monday, he told nearly 4,000 students at a daily chapel service on the campus that they must tell their parents if they become involved in an interracial relationship. "We will carry out the will of your parents," he said.

Bob Jones University's decision to lift its half-century-old ban on interracial dating has stunned students and the fundamentalist Christian school's supporters who learned about it Friday night in a nationally televised interview with President Bob Jones III. "I don't think even his own secretary knew what he was going to do," school spokesman Jonathan Pait said. Thousands of students and supporters gathered at the university's auditorium to watch Jones' interview on CNN's "Larry King Live."

Bob Jones University is dropping its ban on interracial dating in the wake of the criticism that followed George W. Bush's visit to the school. "As of today, right now, we're dropping it," Bob Jones III said on CNN's "Larry King Live" on Friday night. During Bush's appearance at the fundamentalist Christian school last month, the Texas governor told his audience that he shared their views.

The NAACP's national board on Saturday unanimously approved a tourism boycott of South Carolina until the state stops flying the Confederate flag from its Capitol. The National Assn. for the Advancement of Colored People also asked the U.S. Justice Department to investigate whether official display of the symbol infringed on the civil rights of blacks.

It stands in a glen, resplendent in red bricks, its roof and windows trimmed in white. It stands dauntless and defiant, against all odds. A new St. John Baptist Church has risen from charred masonry blocks, twisted metal and ashes. Its tiny black congregation, 40 strong, and a sanctuary full of visitors gathered Sunday to celebrate and give thanks. Since colonial times, four St. John churches have been devastated in this patch of countryside near Columbia, S.C.

Ammie Murray noticed the car out of the corner of her eye. There was something odd about it. The car was an aging maroon Pontiac. It was parked on a narrow side road that led off into a swamp along the Congaree River. People used those rutty old roads to go fishing. The odd thing was that the car was full, at a dead stop and facing out. That made her uneasy, but she drove on, at 30 mph or so, over the sand and the washouts that covered Old State Road.

Troubled by church burnings, drive-by shootings and other signs of growing racial divisiveness, Gov. David Beasley called Tuesday night for hauling down the Confederate battle flag from atop the state Capitol, the last statehouse from which it still flies. But the gesture, which he has planned for days and had hoped would help unite the races, turned instead into an extraordinary and contentious debate--not just about the flag but about the meaning and morality of Southern history.

If the Rev. David Kennedy hesitated, if he felt a twinge of doubt when the tattooed homeless man asked for his help, a single glance at the children baking in the back of the pickup truck in the midday sun was enough to make up his mind. Whippet-thin, with Confederate flags stenciled on his arms, the stranger looked like a rough character--the kind of white man who ordinarily would have little to do with an activist black preacher.

Gov. David Beasley persuaded most of South Carolina's leading politicians Wednesday to join his effort to move the Confederate battle flag off the Statehouse dome. Beasley, a Republican, gathered the bipartisan support in hopes of resolving a bitter feud over the flag, which many blacks say symbolizes slavery and racism. The compromise would move it to a Confederate monument on the Statehouse grounds. U.S. Sen.