who had been one of the first black students at the University of South Carolina.
First, Fortune’s group needed the right men to apply for the job, who were suited to police work, who were capable of achieving a high score on the civil service examination, and who would have the strength to overcome the sure hostility of white cops and citizens. They chose Wiley Grenada Overton to lead the way.
The youngest of at least eight children in a free black family, Overton was born on the eve of the Civil War in Elizabeth City, North Carolina. 35 In the war’s ebb, at the age of seven, he began his education at a normal school whose mission was to prepare blacks to become teachers. He graduated at fourteen, taught for two years, and then, still only sixteen, followed a brother north to Brooklyn, the independent city across the river from New York. He resumed his studies, this time at a blacks-only grammar school. After graduating for a second time, Overton went to work for a dry-goods merchant, soon taking charge of the company’s sample room. He married, fathered two daughters, and became active in his church. Eventually, he established a successful undertaking business.
Few members of the police force were as well educated as Overton was; fewer still had built successful careers. To Fortune and his colleagues, Overton’s willingness to sacrifice his livelihood at the age of thirty-one for the greater good of the race was a godsend. They had no doubt that, with proper study, he would ace the hiring test—and he did. In 1891, Overton’s name appeared toward the top of the rank-order appointment list. The commissioner was sure to reach him as he called men for mandatory physicals. Fortune arranged for a doctor to examine Overton in order to prevent the police surgeon from disqualifying him on a pretext. The doctor issued a certificate of good health.
The
Brooklyn Daily Eagle
sent a reporter to plumb the motivations of the black man who had dared to claim a place on the force. So as not to leave readers guessing, its reporter wrote of Overton: “The race which he belongs to is made plain in the most pronounced way by the color of his skin—he is quite dark.” The story included this colloquy:
“What induced you to make the effort to secure the position on the police force?”
“Well, I don’t really remember. I had been thinking of it for the longest time. I believed that there ought to be some colored policemen, and I was more or less all the time talking about it to my friends. In Philadelphia there are fifty-six colored officers. Boston has eight or ten. In Chicago they are numerous. Trenton, Camden and Newark are not without them, and now that Brooklyn has got into line, there are no cities in the North where my people dwell in respectable numbers, except New York, without black policemen.”
Overton also predicted:
I think the treatment I receive will in a great measure depend upon how I carry myself, how I deal with those with whom I come in contact. The worst which I will be made to suffer will be the staring of the curious and probably I’ll have to take some guying from the gamins on the streets. The novelty of my appearance, however, will soon wear away and until it does I guess I can stand the staring without blushing too loud, and, as I do not drink and am not hasty in my temper, the street arab will never succeed in making me angry. 36
Critical of no one and suffused by good will, Overton drew a pleased review from the reporter. He left the interview “impressed with the idea that no city would suffer from having on its police negroes like Officer Overton.” Shortly, Commissioner Henry I. Hayden appointed twenty-two police officers. “He passed a good examination,” Hayden said, “and as the law makes no distinction in regard to color I do not see why there should be any question as to my duty in the matter.”
The following day the
Eagle
declared in a supportive editorial: “There are colored