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by Don Keelan
Over the past 20-plus years of writing a bi-weekly column, I have tried not to interject personal experiences. Additionally, please forgive me for not submitting my last column. However, it was necessary and personal.
I decided to attend my 65th Marine Corps reunion, specifically honoring those Marines who, over the past 70 years, were stationed at the Marine Barracks in Washington, DC.
The Barracks is a unique place, a distinction that has endured since President Thomas Jefferson selected the location in 1801. The Marine Corps, officially only three years old at the time, was created through an Act of Congress in 1798. Jefferson chose a location so Marines could easily access the Nation’s Capitol grounds, roughly eight city blocks away. A little history lesson: The Marines recognize November 10, 1775, as their founding day at Tun Tavern, in Philadelphia, PA. A huge celebration will be held there this fall for the Corps’ 250th Anniversary.

The Barracks’ uniqueness can be attributed to the official residence of the Commandant of the Marine Corps, which sits at one end of the Barracks and is one of Washington’s oldest buildings, spared from destruction by the British in 1812. At the other end of the rectangular property with a parade field in the center is the home of the United States Marine Band, known as “The President’s Own.” One of the band’s great leaders, John Phillip Sousa, grew up near the Barracks. Along with the band is the Marine Silent Drill Platoon, the Drum and Bugle Corps, and the Color Guard.
The above Marines are tasked with ceremonial duties within Washington DC, including Arlington National Cemetery and, at times, throughout the country. Except for the Marine Band, the force, along with several hundred other Marines, provides security at the Presidential Retreat, Camp David, the Blair House, the White House, and other locations when called upon to assist.
One of the events our reunion group attends is the Friday Evening Parade that takes place at the Barracks from May until late August. The military event (military tattoo would be its British reference) is free to the public by reservation for the 4,000 seats and has been since July 1957.
This has not changed since I reported for duty at the Barracks in the fall of 1957. What has changed is the group of Marines we witnessed participating in the 90-minute performance.
It was a delight to see Colonel Carrie Batson, the commanding officer of the Barracks. She is the first female to have ever held the position, and it was long overdue. Another first was younger female officers leading two of the six platoons, each comprising of 24 Marines.
Several decades ago, the Barracks appointed Black Marine officers to similar positions. For those of us stationed there in the late 1950s, this was not the case. At that time, Washington, DC and much of the South were segregated. I enlisted in the Marines from Mt.Vernon, NY, next to the Bronx. Witnessing segregation first-hand was a life-changing experience.
In the 1950s, the Armed Forces were attempting, ever so slowly, to integrate their ranks; the Marines were even slower. My platoon of 24 included four Black Marines, a first for the Barracks. Life was not easy for them. When traveling to Camp David, they had to stay on the Marine bus when we stopped for sandwiches at a Maryland diner. The diner’s sign was clear: “Whites Only.” In any Silent Drill performance south of Virginia, our platoon’s four Black Marines were replaced by four white Marines from another platoon.
Our reunion dinner the following evening included the keynote speaker, Lt. General Ronald Bailey (Ret.). The Black three-star general, one of the Marines’ first, was given a warm reception.
It was hard for me to concentrate on his remarks. I was off recapturing how life was in 1957 in the Corps, in Washington, and as a country. Unfortunately, I am still using the phrase ‘the first time.’ Much progress has been achieved over the past six decades in addressing discrimination, but as a nation, we cannot say it is behind us.
The author is a U.S. Marine (retired), CPA, and columnist living in Arlington, VT.
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Categories: Military, Race and Division









Thank you for your service .
This article brings back memories of when i enlisted in Air Force Sep 9, 1958 after high school when the draft board in Woodstock wouldn’t let go of me, being a airplane buff, I enlisted into AF. Back in Vermont prior to graduating there was one black family in Vermont that I knew of, living in St. Albans. Their son Ozzie was a great basketball player, why I remember him. My exposure to Blacks and didn’t think anything of it.
In the AF, was sent to Lackland AFB in San Antonio TX. There I got indoctrinated to segregation in the civilian world and again didn’t think anything of it, it was a normal living environment. No colored here or there and the sign notices. We had a what the AF calls “Flights” being “Platoons”. A group of Colored from Chicago were in our Flight and were assigned positions of authority in our Flight and barracks living. Again I didn’t think anything of it. The AF apparently sought to integrate and did so.
My parents took a trip to CA to visit family and came by Wichita Falls TX were I was stationed in August 1960 I went on leave and drove to VT. Traveled thru the south states, LA, MS, AL, GA and it was very apparent segregation was i full force. I remember Prez Eisenhower integrating schools in Little Rock AR and the nasty crowds against Blacks in the South.. And the killings of three young guys in MS. The 50’s were tough times.
I wound up having duty with some very good black friends. You have to depend on each as it was hazardous duty. So here was a little, young, naive hick from very white VT thrust into the segregation world. A life’s lesson.
I enlisted in the Marine Corps in 1969, segregation then as today was and continues to be a challenge.
My high school graduation class of 1969 had zero African Americans, we had the largest graduating class in Ohio that year.
My first exposure to African Americans was at Parris Island, definitely a shock to my system.
The two most formative Marines I encountered in three years were both African Americans, one my senior drill instructor the second a fellow Marine I encountered upon my return from Vietnam, both positively impacted my life for which I am eternally grateful.