The Atlanta Constitution from Atlanta, Georgia • 17

THE ATLANTA CONSTITUTION SECTION Monday, October 21, 1985 re Opt Atlanta's finest cross the color lime Celestine Sibley i 1 I i IT '-i'MPwim fW1 "v-'VA'r''K "I'M ii '-TV Keep a journal of happenings If you think, as I have from time to time, that the art of keeping a diary went out of style with Katherine Mansfield's Journal half a century ago, think again. All over this beautiful state of ours there are people who faithfully and assiduously make a daily memorandum of their thoughts, feelings, adventures in living and sometimes philosophies. The way I had it figured, it's a useful occupation for the young, teaching them to organize their thoughts and providing a certain discipline. It is good for grownups, especially for the gardeners among us who can never remember what they planted where, or if the nasturtiums really flourished in pots last summer. And it is invaluable for historians, not just those who write about presidents and wars and the like, but the ones who want to know what life was like in the long ago and undoubtedly archaic days of 1985.

Well, you might not keep a journal. I don't, except spasmodically in planting season. But it's possible your neighbor next door or your friend at church or maybe the man at the supermarket check-out counter records in loving detail every day's living. I know that because the mail tells me so. A number of women have written in to say that they set aside a few minutes 'every morning or evening for this kind of record-keeping.

First black cops faced uphill battle BySamHeys SlaWrilCT They were policemen, but just barely. They had to dress in the basement of a YMCA. They couldn't wear their uniforms home. They couldn't drive a patrol car or ride a motorcycle. And they certainly couldn't arrest white folks.

Atlanta's first eight black policemen were chided by other blacks and overtly despised by other policemen. "It was hell for a long time," says Johnnie P. Jones, one of the eight men who integrated the Atlanta police force in 1948. The names of the others were Dixon, Elkins, Hooks, Lyons, McKibbens, Sanders and Strickland, but mostly they were called "the nigger police." Selected from 109 applicants, they ranged in age from 21 to 32 and most were native Atlantans. Six had been to college and seven were World War II veterans.

One had been a butcher, another a anitor, another a typesetter. A couple ad sold insurance. They were sworn in March 8, 1948, and went on duty April 3. "Mayor (William Hartsfield gave us a little pep talk before we went out our first day," Henry Hooks says. "He said, 'Ninety-five percent of the white officers don't want you, so you're going to be on trial, and you're going to have to show them you can police just as well as they A precinct was established for the black officers at the Butler Street YMCA, and when the first two emerged from the basement to walk their beat that first afternoon, "there must have been 400 to 500 people out there following them," says Herbert Jenkins, Atlanta police chief from 1947 to '72 They were heroes, long awaited by blacks tired of being called "Mary" or "Boy" and fearing the men who were supposed to protect them.

"It was just like a parade. Everywhere we went, they went," says Robert McKibbens. McKibbens and three others went on to become career officers. Two of the initial eight quit within the first year. It was not an easy job.

The black policemen were continually harassed by white officers. Newsweek had reported in 1947 that 25 percent of Atlanta's policemen were members of the Ku Klux Klan. "I expect that was about right," says Jenkins, "although it might See COPS, Page 4-B Atlanta's first black officers the day they started with the force, April 3, 1948. From left, Johnnie P. Jones, Willard Strickland, John II.

Sanders, Willie Elkins, Robert McKibbens, Henry Hooks, Claude Dixon, Ernest Lyons. The vanguard what became of them 5 it S. Nr I Friendly" program still operates in Atlanta schools, and Lyons, 65, lives in southwest Atlanta and remains active in civic affairs. "We won the respect," he says proudly of the first black officers. "Some of them (white officers that resented us 36 years ago shake hands with me now and are glad to see me." JOHN H.

SANDERS, salutatorian of Booker T. Washington High School in 1942, was working as a janitor at Clark Howell School when he joined the Atlanta police force. "He took it (the janitorial job because there was nothing else available," says his widow, Bertha Sanders. A World War II veteran, Sanders left the police force within a year and re-enlisted in the Army. "I think the frustrations of the limitations bugged him quite a bit," says Mrs.

Sanders, "because he was very conscious of the fact that he had fought for his See EIGHT, Page 4 BySamHeys StaJJ Writer Five of Atlanta's first eight black policemen are still alive. Two died in middle age, another committed suicide. ERNEST H. LYONS had wanted to be a policeman since he was 7 but wondered, if he would ever get the chance. "When I was 7 years old, I saw a man chase a woman down Dunlap Street," says Lyons.

"He beat this woman in the street, and after he beat her, he took out a knife and started stabbing her. And I said, 'Oh Lord, where are the Lyons, the original "Officer Friendly," retired as an Atlanta policeman in 1980. As a community-relations officer during tense times in the 1960s, he would arrange block parties and sock hops in black neighborhoods. He later went into schools to teach young children not to fear the police. The "Officer Reflecting on life Ora Lindsay Graham, an author, lecturer and seminar leader from Austell, regularly runs workshops called "Reflections" on recording family memories and even sees to having them printed and bound for future generations.

(There is a charge for this. You can call Mrs. Graham at 941-8988.) The most surprising sponsor of journal-keeping to me is the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Mormon). Ms. Laurie Boyett wrote; "Mormons are counseled to keep journals of daily activities.

I myself have six journals and each of my ihldren has one. The Bible is really a series of journals kept by prophets of old. Don't despair. There are lots and lots of people scribbling their goals, heartaches, wishes, etc. every night." She enclosed some material on the subject from a church book.

"A iournal." it savs "is a continuing Sgt. Ernest II. Lyons was the original 'Officer Sirkis is having 'reeV fun running the Ellis Cinema record of meaningful experiences inai aueci our lives, mrougn nis prophets, the Lord has commanded each of us to keep a journal. As we record our activities and feelines. I Mi h.

we can more clearly see the Lord's influence our lives. HJju.iiin.il mm iiiiiii i II Jllll. IJ TV atf mj. 1 i An argument settler 5 y'r The church is specific about helping children to keep their journals, suggesting a three-ring binder ir IBS -'nS'" with paper or a spiral notebook, which may be personalized in any way that pleases the owner. "Ask each member to set aside a time each week, each day, or every oth er day to write in his journal," it directs.

"Or, set aside a time as a family to write in journals. Sundays or early weekday mornings may be JOHNNY CRAWFORDStaff Glenn Sirkis owns the Ellis Cinema in Little Five Points. good times. Suggest that family memoers oegin oy writing in a brief description of themselves, in LANNA SWINDLE RStafl Oaire Joyes and her husband, Jean-Marie Toulgouat, step-great-grandson of Claude Monet. Monet made a big Impression on his step-great-grandson cluding age, grade, physical traits, and feelings about beginning a journal." The children at your house, like the children at mine, will probably By Gerry Yandcl StaffWriter When Glenn Sirkis walks to the front of the Ellis Cinema to orate his impromptu, witty prelude to the evening's movie, he gives moviegoers the impression that he has celluloid in his blood.

He doesn't "But I do have popcorn in my gut," he said. "Ever since junior high school, I've craved the perfect popcorn." One way to achieve the perfect popcorn is buy your own movie theater, and then equip it with a Gold Medal Deluxe Citation popcorn popper with Accu-meter oil pump Several years ago, Sirkis, 37, sold his interest in a microcomputer company he helped found, and invested in the former Euclid Theatre in Little Five Points. The theater was owned by George Ellis at the time, and Sirkis expected to be an absentee owner. "I thought I was helping out an old man who liked to run a movie theater," he said. But when George Ellis died in the summer of 1983, Sirkis and his wife, Jill, became co-owners and took over the operation of the theater.

"One thing led to another and I find myself running a movie theater. It's all actually rather bizarre," Sirkis said. The Ellis, which specializes in presenting films not shown at other theaters, is now featuring "Mass Appeal," a movie starring Jack Lemmon. The film never opened in Atlanta, and went almost directly to videocassettes after premiering in New York and Los Angeles. Sirkis and his wife who like Jack Lemmon said they thought the movie deserved to be seen, so they contacted Universal Studios to get it here.

The film is making money for the Ellis; many films don't because of the cinema's location and the type of movies shown there. A letter of thanks from Lemmon Is proudly displayed on a wall in the lobby. A former Georgia Tech student, Sirkis has had experienc working say, wnai musi writer me irutn snouid be told," a churchman says. There are examples from great records of churchmen who have been persecuted and imprisoned vivid, memorable pictures of their suffering. But I liked the one from a child journal about his grandfather's funeral.

"I love grandpa very much. I for WKLu 1 1 ecus college rauio station, Channels 17 and 5, and the microcomputer company. Although he likes movies, Sirkis isn't really enamored with the film industry. "I don't think anybody in this business really knows what they're doing," he said. "When you're dealing with anything that has to do with the whims of the public, it's a crapshoot." The theater, which celebrated its 45th anniversary two weeks ago, has the second largest screen (50-feet wide) in the city.

Just about everything but the popcorn is unconventional about the Ellis, including the snacks: Amar-etto chocolate truffles, chocolate-covered pretzels, almond clusters and a list of vintage wines. "We originally weren't going to handle regular theater candy," Sirkis said. "During the run of some obscure film, as two women were leaving the theater, one of them said to the other, 'I knew we were in trouble when they didn't have Milk The Ellis has Milk Duds now, but Sirkis said, "I don't think she would liked theiov-ie anyway know he is living with Heavenly Father. Grandpa is very busy and happy. I know I will live with him someday.

the artist's studio, then filled with more than 300 paintings that are now in the world's great Rising to point to the photographs some 60 rare, unpublished pictures dating from 1890 to 1926 Toulgouat says, "I had these photos in my home." He and his wife, Claire Joyes a 45-year-old writer who is an expert on Monet in her own right have about 250 more like them. Stopping at a photo of Blanche Hoschede, the stepdaughter who cared for Monet in his declining years, Toulgouat recalls taking art lessons from her. His best friend, he says, was the son of Monet's cook, and they Conducted chemistry experiments in the great artist's darkroom. "They could have blown up all the paintings," says Ms. Joyes, raising her eyebrows in feigned horror.

Laughing, Toulgouat continues, talking of the hours he played in the great artist's flower gardens and around the Japanese lily ponds, where Monet transformed art into life and life into art. "For me, it was just normal," Toulgouat says. See GIVERNY, Pa'gr 4-B By Keith Graham StaffWriter All youth is impressionable, but you might say Jean-Marie Toulgouat's was more Impressionable than most. After all, the painter currently Oglethorpe University's artist in residence is the step-great-" grandson of none other than Claude Monet, the father of Impressionism, and he grew up barely a hundred meters from Monet's home in Giverny, France. Sitting in the Oglethorpe Art Gallery surrounded by an exhibit of photos of his famed relative, Toulgouat who normally paints with oils proves that he is adept at creating with words, too, as he verbally draws the picture of his youth.

"It was like growing up in a museum," says the, artist, a balding, bearded man of 58 wearing a cowboy handkerchief as an ascot. Monet, who bought a pink, green-shuttered house in Giverny in 1889, died just before Toulgouat's birth, but the family still gathered for meals in the brilliant yellow dining room where the master Impressionist entertained friends like Pissarro and Renoir, MAisse and Sisley, Cezanne and Rodin.iiMter-ward, Toulgouat and his relatives would sip coffpc in Mrs. E.C. Sanders, who with her husband ran the Rockmart Journal for 35 years until they sold it in the fall of 1980, says she has kept a di ary for nearly 65 years and vows it isn very interesting. She recorded mostly the "shots, diseases, and data" on her five children.

Even that kind of diary has turned out to be useful, and an argument settler at times, but she has dared her chityen to ever let isee the cold lintit rf nrinf "whan T'm anna llgllt Ul ytl IV nilVII ill VFIld.