“Most people here seem to overlook the thing that caused the presence of the soldiers and the marshals. This thing was the breakdown of law and order,” James Meredith, the first African American student admitted to the University of Mississippi said in his 1963 “I Can’t Fight Alone” speech.

“The Fall of 1962” — a collection of artifacts and stories of the Ole Miss riot at the University Museum — acutely captures this very moment of collective breakdown. It was a moment of disarray and uncertainty, shrouded in an ugly, yet historically relevant cloud of racial discrimination as the university’s integration faced a final segregationist opposition.

The exhibit beautifully honors Meredith and his year-long battle for admission, while spotlighting peripheral, yet invaluable points of view into this pivotal era in history.

“I think that makes it more real … when you think about the families in town and the people who happened to be around or participating,” Melanie Antonelli, curator of exhibitions and collections manager at the University Museum, said. “It really makes you think of yourself and the accountability of where you are in the scope of history.”

A collection of photos taken by Lyman Magee, a biology professor at the university in 1962, are viewable via tablets stationed around the space, visually guiding one through the tumultuous period and lending an air of immediacy to the viewer. 

A particularly striking image depicts the Rev. Duncan Montgomery Gray Jr., the rector at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church in Oxford, removing the Rebel Flag, with several students, all of whom knew Gray personally, verbally abusing him for doing so.

The gallery spotlights these pivotal moments of tension, while providing supplemental information on those involved and the viewpoints they expressed and were often condemned for expressing.

“You and I didn’t go out there and throw the bricks and bottles. You and I didn’t go out there and fire the guns. Yet you and I, along with every other Mississippian, are responsible in one degree or another for what happened,” Gray said in his impassioned sermon on Oct. 7, 1962. 

During the treacherous week, Magee was forced to move his biology class outdoors, as the science buildings were suffused with tear gas to prevent the transformation of chemicals and acids into deadly protest weapons. 

Remains of these artifacts, in addition to miscellaneous fragments of police gear, were preserved by Army 2nd Lt. Henry Gallagher and remain on display, adding a tangible, almost eerie quality to the exhibit’s overall ethos. 

Several of these artifacts were also reworked into a creation of Magee’s own, utilizing disparate elements such as broken glass, concrete chunks and empty smoke grenades to form “By the Dawn’s Early Light.” The piece serves as an abstractionism counterpoint to the realism of Magee’s photography, yet serves just as vital of a purpose, drawing the viewer inward to the horrors of the fall ’62 landscape.

Marleah’s Hobbs’s “Burning Cars,” the centerpiece of the exhibit, achieves a similar effect. 

Hobbs, a fine arts graduate student at the University of Mississippi during the riots, composed the painting as a contemporaneous response to the events. The toll of the riots directly affected Hobbs, as her husband, Edward Henry Hobbs, a political science professor, was the victim of numerous threats for his advocacy for integration. 

This emotion is deeply felt through the work, a sprawling and ambitious abstract representation of the cars burnt by mob violence on the night of Sept. 30, 1962.

The viscerality expressed through Hobbs’ painting ripples throughout the course of history, with the 60th anniversary of integration highlighting the open wound that the fateful 1962 fall season still manages to generate. 

Nevertheless, these conversations, while often uncomfortable, remain necessary, with the museum offering its own conversation piece, where viewers are able to leave their own impressions, however varied their emotions toward the works may be.

“It opens ourselves up to criticism, to dialogue and as a way to engage with younger generations,” Antonelli said. “We’ve had people from out-of-state, or people who are just generally not familiar with the riots, have especially strong reactions to the exhibit.”

The University Museum hopes to expand this conversation throughout the year-long exhibit, as it looks to add further interview components and video content to the already extensive display. 

“The Fall of 1962” is on view at the University Museum. Additional information on the exhibit can be found on the University Museum website.