[…]
Georg was also involved in the NAACP. Our best friend was Sam Gandy, the campus minister at Dillard. Georg knew him from Richmond, where as a professor at the black Virginia State College Gandy had been faculty adviser of an interracial student organization. Trained in philosophy and theology, Sam was able to build bridges not only between blacks and whites, but also between Christians and Jews. He was active with the NAACP, which not many faculty members were, either black or white, as well as with the Council for Christians and Jews, and in the peace group we organized. He remained a good friend until his death in 1988. (p. 67)
[…]
We came to Little Rock without any clear idea as to how we could contribute to the struggle against segregation. Very soon, however, we had an opportunity to become active. During my first semester at Philander Smith, I taught a course on the world since 1919. The Korean War had just broken out a few months earlier and I wanted to find background literature for my students. The poorly equipped college library had little that was relevant. Little Rock, like most larger American cities, had a good public library, but it was not accessible to blacks. There was a small branch library for blacks, that was open only a few hours a week, and a small childrens library. Theoretically, black readers could order any books from the main library, but there was no catalogue of the holdings of the main library at the branch. Moreover, a librarian at the main library told me that books that are in demand there are generally not forwarded to the black branch.
I decided to write a letter to the editor of the Arkansas Gazette, the more liberal of the two Little Rock newspapers, outlining the situation and urging the main library to open its doors to all readers regardless of race, and the letter was published. I did not expect my letter to have any results. But we know now from the minutes of the board of the library that the board took my letter very seriously. They called in President Harris for consultation. Harris then told me that I could send my students to the main library. They went and were served without problems. In fact, the board, which consisted of five members of the Little Rock establishment, had voted unanimously against the opposition of some of the staff to open the library not only to my students, but to all readers. The board also decided against making a public announcement, but word soon spread.
A short time later I was visited by a small delegation of the Little Rock branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). The NAACP from its founding in 1909 had always included white members, but there were very few white members in the South, where they faced the possibility of adverse consequences. The delegation asked whether I would be willing to join the executive committee of the branch and chair its education committee. The branch consisted of earnest and committed members, mostly postal employees or persons who were self-employed and thus were not susceptible to economic pressure. One of the most active members was the Reverend J. L. Crenchaw, who had a small tailor shop. There were also a handful of black lawyers, doctors, dentists, ministers, and funeral directors who were members, but there was no one who could, or was ready to do the research required for the work of the branch.
Since its founding the NAACP had avoided direct confrontation and instead relied on bringing legal action in the courts to challenge segregation laws. It had a great deal of success in the years after 1945 in gaining admission for black students to law schools and medical schools in the South, and in opposing segregation in public interstate transportation and discriminatory housing covenants.
I was the first and until then only white member of the local executive committee. Wilma also joined the NAACP. (p. 71f)
Source: Wilma and Georg Iggers, Two Lives in Uncertain Times, New York: Berghahn Books, 2006, p. 71f