Black History Month Salute: Lockhart's legacy shines spotlight on Montford Point Marines
Originally published November 10, 2021.
LM Lockhart (back row, second from left) served in the United States Marine Corps during segregation.
{Contributed photo}
For me, this article is personal.
How could it not be? It’s about one of my favorite persons. And it’s being published on the day the United States Marine Corps celebrates its 246th birthday. And it’s the day before Veterans Day. Of course, this article is about my favorite Marine, my granddaddy, the late LM Lockhart.
Born in Wilkes County, GA, my granddaddy, whom I simply called Daddy, settled into life in Lexington in 1946. After a chance meeting with my grandma, the late Margaret Harris Lockhart, thwarted his plans to migrate to Ohio, he began establishing a foundation that has upheld our family for generations. One that’s rooted in love, care, respect, family, integrity, perseverance, dependability, service and giving.
You might be asking yourself why is any of this important to note? I’m glad you asked. The fact that Daddy was able to build a solid base for his family given what he’d experienced a few years and even months before this new chapter of his life began is remarkable.
You see, Daddy was not just a Marine. Daddy was a Montford Point Marine. Not familiar with the moniker? I’m glad you shared that. I’ll explain.
On June 25, 1941, President Franklin Roosevelt signed an executive order prohibiting racial discrimination in the military, thus opening the door for men of color to be “accepted” into the armed forces. After much resistance, the Marine Corps established temporary barracks and additional facilities at Camp Lejeune in Jacksonville, NC. The name of the new camp: Montford Point.
For the next seven years, Montford Point would be the location where all Black Marines were instructed, separately, from their white counterparts. In December 1943, Daddy was drafted into the Marines. He received basic training at Montford Point and served in World War II from 1944-1946 in the Asiatic-Pacific Theater. Daddy was honorably discharged from the Corps in May 1946.
A few months ago, on a return trip home from Maryland, I made an impromptu stop at the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Triangle, VA. Learning more about the Montford Point Marines is an active goal of mine so I went in with that intention. Having needed assistance, I was led to the section of the museum solely dedicated to these brave, courageous, resilient men.
See, the thing is, Daddy never told us he was a Montford Point Marine. My mama found out, a year before he passed, because of a documentary she watched. When she inquired, his response was simply, “Ummm hmmm.” Typical LM Lockhart.
I often have mixed emotions about this. On one hand, I would have loved to have known this earlier in life so I could’ve understood the magnitude of his accomplishments. On the other, knowing what I now know I understand why he never mentioned it.
As I perused the displays at the national museum, I saw a book detailing the history of the camp. When I flipped through it, I landed on a page that left me speechless, which is hard to do. But something clicked in that moment that I surprisingly never thought about. On the pages, were pictures of the Montford Point Camp staff. They were all white men.
Yes, I’m aware that at the time the United States was still segregated and would be for another 20-plus years. I’m aware Daddy and his fellow Marines were being prepared for war at another part of the camp. Yes, I’m aware of some of the things Daddy was subjected to at that time because of the color of his skin. However, it didn’t dawn on me that all the men instructing them looked like all the men they were considered less than.
I believe it’s one of the reasons Daddy never told any of us about his trip home to see his mama after the war. He took a bus to Georgia. In his uniform. With 100 miles to go before he arrived to his destination, Daddy had to give up his seat to a white woman and stand for the rest of his journey.
Nevertheless, Daddy, who was called “Chief” by his neighborhood “sons and daughters,” was always proud to be a Marine. He let it be known often. A lifetime member of the American Legion, he was an active member of Banks-Miller Post 255 where he had previously served as commander. His commitment to the U.S. is a badge he wore with honor even though the U.S. didn’t honor him in the way he deserved when he returned.
To me, that’s the most commendable feat in this whole story. Despite what he encountered, received and endured, Daddy was and still is the greatest man I’ve ever known. He’s the person I call “The “Epitome of a Man.”
Lockhart and his late wife, Margaret.
{Contributed photo}
How could I not? I can’t imagine what he experienced. And I truly comprehend the reasons for not sharing. But what still bothers me is the lack of universal acknowledgement for these gentlemen. The Tuskegee Airmen are widely known. The Buffalo Soldiers are widely known. The Montford Point Marines, the first Black Marines, aren’t. Why not? I don’t know but I’m committed to doing my part to help change that. Others are, too.
In 2011, the U.S. Congress voted unanimously to award the Congressional Gold Medal, the nation’s highest civilian award, to the Montford Point Marines. They were presented by President Barack Obama to living Montford Point Marines in 2012. Channeling the grit of Daddy, after a year of determination, my family was awarded his in 2019 in a surprise ceremony.
When I came to the end of the section dedicated to these trailblazers, I was disappointed. While there was memorabilia, mementos and written history lessons, I expected the section to be bigger. But given the quiet fanfare they’ve been given all these years, I wasn’t surprised.
So, on this Veterans Day, I challenge you. Research the Montford Point Marines and share what you learn with others. While they may not be here to see the wave of knowledge spread throughout the country, we can ensure the next generation is knowledgeable about their contribution, sacrifices, dedication.
They need that.
They’ve earned that.
They deserve that.
Make it happen.
For Chief.
And the 20,000.
