when opportunity types
A typewriter nearly deprived the world of Alice Dunnigan.
Not literally — as far as I know, a typewriter had nothing to do with the existence of Alice Dunnigan. But her “off-brand, broken-down” typewriter — plus her unsupportive husband — nearly kept Alice from becoming the civil rights pioneer and icon that we know her to be.
After growing up, being educated, and educating others as a teacher in Kentucky, Alice was ready to get out.
“My life had become very unhappy in this complacent little village,” she wrote about Russellville in her autobiography, “not only because of marital problems but also because it offered no opportunity for growth.”
The racial discrimination she faced was becoming harder to tolerate. Her attempts to improve the situation for herself and her fellow African Americans not only failed but also got her labeled as a stirrer of trouble.
So, she wrote, “I wanted desperately to get away.”
In 1942, Alice noticed a government poster in the post office, announcing positions for clerk typists. The postmaster agreed to give Alice the exam, as long as she brought her own typewriter.
Alice had learned to type while at West Kentucky Industrial College, shortly after her first marriage ended. That husband wasn’t a fan of Alice’s educational pursuits, so when she finally made it to WKIC, she felt she was making up for lost time.
“I decided to take every available course to try and make it up, regardless of whether or not I received credit for the workload,” Alice wrote. “One of the additional course I requested was typing.”
Typing wasn’t on the curriculum, but Alice received materials from the state board of education and rented a typewriter for a dollar per month from the wife of the WKIC president. Alice wasn’t sure when this skill would be useful, since office work for Black women “was still practically nonexistent in that section of the country.”
“Still, I thought that someday the opportunity might come,” she wrote.
When it did, Alice’s second husband drove her and her beat-up typewriter to the exam. On the way, though, he “launched into his usual tirade, lambasting me for my aspirations.”
Alice suspected he did this to make her so nervous that she wouldn’t pass, and he almost succeeded. Alice failed the actual practice test.
“But I had made such a good showing on the written part of the exam that the postmaster agreed to allow me a second chance on the typing test. This time, I managed to control my nerves,” she wrote. “Although my typewriter skipped spaces and some of the letters were out of line, I made the grade.”
On the standard government application, Alice indicated that she would work anywhere in the United States. Soon after, on the day before Thanksgiving, she received a telegram telling her to report for work at the Labor Department in Washington, D.C., the following Monday.
We know all that came next: fighting for equal pay in that position, picking up extra work as a newspaperwoman, earning the title of Washington bureau chief for the Associated Negro Press, breaking barriers as a Black woman journalist.
That part of her journey began with her tenacity, a typewriter, and a telegram.
May your Monday after Thanksgiving be as wonderful as Alice’s was in 1942.
Keep reading/viewing:
Last month I went to the beach with my friend Arden, who featured as the bride in my newsletter two weeks ago. She shared a few photos from our trip, plus wonderful photos of her cat, in her most recent newsletter.
While we’re on the subject of typewriters, I absolutely loved this typewriter feature in The New York Times.