The Tulsa Race Massacre: Black Wall Street Burned
Aerial shot of destruction following the Tulsa Race Massacre, 1921. In just 18 hours, one of the wealthiest Black communities in the United States was turned to ash.
The Dive
Greenwood, Tulsa: a vibrant, thriving Black neighborhood known across the country as 'Black Wall Street.' It was home to doctors, teachers, shopkeepers, barbers, theaters, newspapers—a whole ecosystem of excellence in a deeply segregated America.
But on May 31, 1921, a racist lie lit the match. A 19-year-old Black shoeshiner named Dick Rowland was accused of assaulting a white elevator operator, Sarah Page. The facts? Murky at best. But by that afternoon, a headline in the 'Tulsa Tribune' fanned the flames of white rage.
Fearing a lynching, around 75 Black men—many of them WWI veterans—went to the courthouse to protect Rowland. They were outnumbered by a white mob of 1,500. A shot was fired. Chaos erupted.
What followed wasn’t a spontaneous riot. It was a full-scale invasion. Armed white mobs stormed Greenwood, looting homes, torching churches, burning schools, and gunning down Black residents. Some had been deputized and armed by the city itself. Firefighters were threatened at gunpoint if they tried to put out the flames.
Over 35 blocks were destroyed. 1,200 homes gone. At least 300 people killed. As many as 6,000 Black residents were detained under martial law. Many were held in internment camps and returned to find their entire lives in ashes. Rowland? The charges were dropped. He left Tulsa and never returned.
In the days that followed, survivors rebuilt what they could. But the system offered no justice. No white rioters were charged. All insurance claims by Black residents—over $1.8 million—were denied. The massacre wasn’t just brutal. It was buried.
Newspapers removed articles. Police and National Guard records vanished. The Tulsa Tribune literally cut out the page that started it all. For decades, Tulsa’s white leaders didn’t want the story told. And many Black families didn’t want to pass on trauma that felt like it could happen again.
It wasn’t until the 1990s that the truth began to reemerge. Oral histories. Commemorations. Investigations. A 2001 state report confirmed what survivors always knew: this was mass murder, not a riot. The name was changed to the 'Tulsa Race Massacre.'
Even today, efforts continue to uncover mass graves and hold the city accountable. The fight for reparations is ongoing. But Greenwood’s story isn’t just one of destruction. It’s one of survival, resistance, and the unshakable belief that justice delayed must never be justice denied.
Why It Matters
This wasn’t a 'riot.' It was an organized act of racial terror—and a society-wide effort to erase it. The Tulsa Race Massacre reminds us that history isn’t just what happened. It’s also what’s hidden, what’s denied, and what we choose to remember. Justice starts with truth.
?
Dig Deeper
This short documentary explores the events that led up to the 1921 massacre and how it unfolded, as part of History Channel’s 'Tulsa Burning' series.
Related
Reconstruction: Rebuilding a Nation and Redefining Freedom
After the Civil War, the United States faced the enormous task of reintegrating the South, securing rights for freedpeople, and redefining citizenship and equality. Reconstruction (1865–1877) was a bold experiment in democracy—filled with groundbreaking laws, historic firsts, and fierce backlash.
The Civil Rights Movement: Struggle, Solidarity, and Social Change
From classrooms to courthouses, buses to bridges, the Civil Rights Movement reshaped America’s laws — and its conscience.
The Wilmington Coup: When Democracy Was Burned Down
In 1898, Wilmington, North Carolina had a thriving Black middle class, a multiracial government — and then a white mob overthrew it. Armed. Organized. Violent. This was no riot. It was a coup.
Further Reading
Stay curious!