Discovery of the book in a state library evoked immediate and outspoken criticism.[370] The head of the State Library Board argued that the book was not aimed at integration, but designed to point out that “human values are not to be judged by physical differences.” Nevertheless, a resolution was introduced in the state legislature by Representatives J. Henry Stuckey of Williamsburg County and Albert W. Watson of Richland County to secure removal of the book and to prevent recurrence of similar situations in the future. Books like The Swimming Hole, according to the resolution, were “antagonistic and inimical to the traditions and customs of our state,” and “serve no constructive educational purpose but rather tend to confuse and warp the thinking of our young children.”
Though calmer heads opposed the resolution, it was approved. Charges of “book burning” and “Hitler tactics” were heard on the floor of the legislature. Representative William H. Grimball, Jr., of Charleston urged the House to “let reason combat whatever thoughts are in books ... in any free democracy you ought to be able to expound anything you want.” To another lowcountry representative, Edward Huguenin of Jasper, the resolution represented a “ridiculous extreme.” Supporting the measure, Representative John M. Horlbeck of Charleston and Representative John T. Gentry of Pickens declared that the question was not one of “literary freedom” but of asserting the “attitude of the General Assembly.”
Press reaction was generally unfavorable to this censorship. The Record said that it was “dangerous business when government gets into the field of censorship of literature, business ‘antagonistic and inimical’ to the traditions and customs of South Carolina.” Americans had always thought that bad ideas could be controverted by good ideas. The Record urged South Carolina “to leave censorship to Russia and to Boston.” But the News and Courier was sympathetic. While conceding that “books expressing all viewpoints should be available for adults,” the Charleston paper declared,
But on the children’s shelves, it seems to us, propaganda should be confined to such wholesome generalities as “good is better than evil,” “crime doesn’t pay,” “be kind to people and animals,” and “an industrious child gets more done than a lazy one.”
... And there is no need to stand up for a book that tries by subtle propaganda to make the South’s racial customs appear to be hateful and wicked.
Although a cursory perusal of the anti-integration bills adopted by the 1955 and 1956 sessions of the general assembly might infer that the legislators had exhausted the possibilities along this line, such was by no means the case. The 1957 session was only slightly less productive than that of 1956. In attempting to plug by legislative fiat every possible hole in the segregation dike the solons in 1957 ranged from the petty and silly to the dangerous and ridiculous.
Falling into the first category were the attempt to ban the movie Island in the Sun and the proposal to require all blood banks to label blood White or Colored. The movie is an adaptation of Alec Waugh’s novel Island in the Sun involving love affairs between interracial couples. Though the cinema version of the story soft-pedals its amatory aspects to the point that not a single interracial kiss takes place on the screen, Representative John Calhoun Hart described it as “a sickening, repulsive, indecent spectacle to which no one in this state should be exposed or subjected.” The Union County lawmaker introduced a bill which declared that the movie “openly” advocated “breaking the miscegenation section of the state constitution” and charged the movie industry with “attempting to foster moral depravity by condoning the mixing of the races.” The bill would have fined any theater showing the film $5,000. Hart’s effort to save “the young people of the world” came to naught. Even the News and Courier condemned it as censorship.[371]
Of a similar nature was the bill offered by Rep. George Sam Harrell of Florence County which would have required that blood banks label all stored blood “White” or “Colored.” Rep. Harrell decried the fact that since 1951 blood had not been labeled by race. He said Negro and white blood was now put on a desk and “you come along and they will shoot” Negro “blood in your veins.” To his colleagues in the House, he declared, “I don’t want any ... [Negro] blood in me and I don’t intend to have any.” The bill, which passed the House but not the Senate, carried provisions for $100 fine or 30 days in jail or both for violators.[372]
Potentially the most dangerous of the many pro-segregation measures was a recommendation by the Gressette Committee, subsequently enacted by the legislature, that the governor be given almost dictatorial injunctive police and military power “to prevent violence or threats of violence.” Under provisions of the bill the governor can “by proclamation declare that a danger exists.” Then to “cope with such danger” he may enjoin any acts or planned acts by individuals, associations or corporations, call in all state, county and local law officers and call out the state militia “to maintain peace and good order.” There was surprisingly little reaction to this proposal. Said the News and Courier: “If they are used with discretion, such police powers ... may be an effective method of combatting federal discrimination against South Carolina.”[373]
The 1957 general assembly also considered many other pro-segregation measures: a resolution creating a group similar to the State Sovereignty Commission of Mississippi to acquaint non-Southerners with the South Carolina position on racial segregation (not passed); a resolution by Rep. Hart to impeach six of the nine justices of the Supreme Court (not passed); an anti-barratry law aimed at the NAACP (passed); and a bill repealing the 1956 statute which forbade public employment to NAACP members and the enacting of a new requirement that merely provided that all prospective employes list those organizations to which they belong (passed).[374] This last law was the result of a suit brought by a group of Elloree Negro teachers who refused to answer a questionnaire under the 1956 law. As a result of the new law the federal courts refused to hear the suit brought by the teachers.