The summer of 1965 was not the best of times for Paul Saltzman. The tall Canadian spent 10 days in a Jackson jail cell that summer. A couple of months after that, Byron De La Beckwith Jr. hit him in the mouth outside of the Leflore County Courthouse.
"I was just about to walk into the courthouse, and I heard someone behind me say, 'Hey buddy, wait a minute, what's your name?'" remembers Saltzman.
When he turned around, Beckwith knocked him to his knees. Saltzman - on his way to sit in on a White Citizens Council meeting - says he scampered to the southeast corner of the courthouse lawn, outrunning Beckwith and three others who were in pursuit. "I can, to this day, distinctly remember the sound of their hearts beating - the sound of their heavy breathing," Saltzman said. "I remember complete silence, except for their breathing and heartbeats."
Saltzman was 21 years old that summer, when he came south from Toronto to help blacks register to vote. He's 63 now, and he's come south again, this time to film a documentary titled "Return to Mississippi."
"My job when I was down here then (in 1965) was to go out in the fields, literally," said Saltzman, a director and producer of dramas and documentaries. "I would go out in the fields and talk to sharecroppers and go out to black churches to talk to people about getting registered to vote."
Saltzman said he returned because he wanted to see how people's lives had changed, how race relations are today, and what the future holds.
It was after his summer working with the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee in Mississippi that Saltzman turned to making film.
"This is my first film to make in 15 years," said Saltzman, who spent a week in 1968 with The Beatles in India, documenting the experience with photographs. His energies over the last 15 years have been focused on lecturing behind a collection of the pictures, released in book form in 2005 as "The Beatles In India."
Just past noon on Tuesday, a brief shower fell on Saltzman and his crew. But his cameraman, "Bongo," and sound recordist, Francisco Aquino, worked with him through the rain and the humidity. They were getting ready to go to Charleston to film, but they needed to finish film work at 617 Howard St. That's where Saltzman spent the majority of June and July in 1965, living with the Greene family.
The house on Howard Street is crumbling. The windows are boarded up, and the roof has holes in it. But right next door is where Alma Greene Henderson lives today. The crew filmed Henderson - along with her sister, Dorothy Greene, and her brother, George Greene - sitting on her front porch talking with Saltzman about their experiences 42 years ago.
"I remember the police putting dogs on folks," said Henderson. "And the civil rights workers would get beat down when they got caught out on the streets."
In the shot, Saltzman gave Dorothy Greene, now 60, a picture of the two of them standing together in the doorway of the home at 617 Howard St. But to hear Saltzman tell it, the condition of the house today in no way represents the progress made between whites and blacks.
Dorothy Greene told Saltzman that when she walks into stores today, people address her with a "Mrs." attached to her name.
It's those improvements that Saltzman hopes to capture in the documentary, scheduled for a fall 2008 release.
"In the end, it's not about the color of your skin," Saltzman said. "The old system created that notion. I hope that eventually everyone is eventually treated equally, all the way across the board."
After another shot of Saltzman crossing the railroad tracks in downtown Greenwood and another of him pulling up at the home on Howard Street, time was working against the film crew.
"Paul, we've got to go, really," said Thabi Moyo, a Mississippi native who is the film's associate producer.
Saltzman and company were off to Charleston for more filming.
Before leaving, Saltzman talked about how other footage he had gotten in Greenwood included interviews with Beckwith, a man Saltzman holds no grudges against.
"When I found (Beckwith), he said he had always wondered what happened to me," said Saltzman. "He wanted to know how I was."
Gray Evans, who was the city prosecutor when Saltzman pressed charges against Beckwith in 1965 and later became a circuit judge, also agreed to be interviewed for the documentary.
"My interest is what happens to people's hearts," Saltzman said. "I'm talking black hearts and white hearts, both young and old. What happens to people down the road after so many years?
"I was surprised and happy to see that blacks have come this far in Greenwood since I was here," said Saltzman. "I think it's great that Greenwood now has a black police chief and black fire chief and now has so many blacks in elected office."
At least for Saltzman, maybe that summer spent in Greenwood 42 years ago wasn't so bad.
