By Jim McCollum

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion.”

Thomas Jefferson, who inspired this clause, said in his letter of January 1, 1802, to several Baptist ministers in Danbury, Connecticut, that it establishes the “separation of church and state.”  The Christian Right insists on noting that the phrase “separation of church and state” does not appear in the Constitution.  Ergo, they contend that the Establishment Clause allows for some flexibility in how religion, specifically Christianity, relates to an otherwise secular government.

Since 1879, when members of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints (Mormons) challenged laws criminalizing polygamy,  the United States Supreme Court has consistently held that Jefferson’s metaphor accurately captures the meaning of the First Amendment. Despite the Supreme Court’s unwavering affirmation of the metaphor, the religion clauses of the First Amendment have generated a great deal of controversy and litigation.

Clearly, the framers of United States Constitution intended to create a government neutral to religion – all religion. The Constitution speaks only of the requirements of religious neutrality.  In addition to the First Amendment, Article VI states that there shall be no religious test for office and allows for either an oath or an affirmation to take office.

What does all this have to do with the right to go to Hell?

Some background is in order.

I am James Terry McCollum. I was the eldest of three children born and raised in the university community of Champaign – Urbana, Illinois.  My father, Dr. John Paschal McCollum was a professor at the University of Illinois. He was one of 11 children born and raised on an Arkansas farm just three miles from the Louisiana border. (I live there now.) By the time he was ready to attend college, he had had all the religion he could stomach and was a confirmed atheist.

My mother, Vashti Cromwell, was the younger of the two children of Arthur and Ruth Cromwell of Rochester, New York. Her religious upbringing was fairly neutral, albeit liberal toward religion. Her parents allowed her to seek her own course.  She never described herself as an atheist but as a Humanist.  Early in their marriage, my parents found no need to address religion or religious issues. That would change as their children grew older.

In the fall of 1943, I entered 4th grade in the public schools of Champaign, Illinois. A teacher solicited students to enroll in a Bible class to be held during school hours in the public school building once a week. Participation in the program was ostensibly voluntary, but the public school teachers strongly encouraged their students to take part.

My parents objected to this invasion of the public schools by sectarian religious activity and I was not allowed to participate. However, after much pressure on me and my parents by the teacher – and by me on my parents because of the pressure I felt – I was eventually allowed to attend these classes for the rest of that school year. My parents had serious misgivings, but because religion had not been a subject of conversation in our household up to that point I was understandably curious.

I joined the class already in progress. The classes resembled Sunday school Bible classes and pitched to almost kindergarten level. They made little sense to me as a “sophisticated” 4th grader.  The stories struck me as fairy tales that these folks were, incredibly, actually taking seriously.

The next year, neither I nor my parents were the least bit desirous of me attending these classes. My parents did not give me permission to attend and as a result I was subjected to indignities at school. I had to sit at a desk in the hall or go to the teacher’s lounge during the religion classes. Both of these forms of removal from the classroom were normally used to punish misbehaving students. There were a number of unfriendly confrontations with other students.

My mother tried to rectify these problems through administrative channels. She was unsuccessful. Finally, with help of the Unitarian minister in Urbana, Illinois, my mother secured an attorney and some funding from a Chicago Jewish businessmen’s organization for legal action.

In the summer of 1945, she filed a mandamus action against the school board to compel it to terminate the program. She lost before the trial panel of three judges in the Champaign County Circuit Court in the spring of 1946, and lost again on appeal to the Illinois Supreme Court. The U.S. Supreme Court granted certiorari and eventually ruled 8 to 1 in her favor in the spring of 1948. I was “James Terry,” the child at the center of the storm.

Our case was a landmark decision because of two important findings.  First, the high court ruled that a school district taxpayer did, indeed, have the standing to sue.  Without that, the case could go no further.

More importantly, the lawsuit my mother brought against my school demanded that states – not just the federal government – observe the requirements of the First Amendment.  A year earlier, the U.S. Supreme Court had  said:

The “establishment of religion” clause of the First Amendment means at least this: Neither a state nor the federal government can set up a church. Neither can pass laws which aid one religion, aid all religions, or prefer one religion over another. Neither can force nor influence a person to go to or remain away from church against his will or force him to profess a belief or disbelief in any religion. No person can be punished for entertaining or professing religious beliefs or disbeliefs, for church attendance or nonattendance. No tax in any amount, large or small, can be levied to support any religious activities or institutions, whatever they may be called, or whatever form they may adopt to teach or practice religion. Neither a state nor the federal government can, openly or secretly, participate in the affairs of any religious organizations or groups and vice versa. In the words of Jefferson, the clause against establishment of religion by law was intended to erect a “wall of separation between church and State.”

A headline in The Progressive, blared: “The Supreme Court Has Just Given Little Terry McCollum the Right to Go to Hell!”

So, this was Hell.

My family and I experienced considerable harassment and hassles leading up to the Court’s decision and in its aftermath. Ultimately, my parents sent me to live with my grandparents in Rochester, New York. I enrolled in a private school there until the dust settled. The University of Illinois attempted to fire my father from his professorship. His tenure protected him, but his promotion to full professor was delayed more than 10 years beyond the normal promotion period because of the lawsuit. The university terminated my mother as an adjunct instructor.

My family’s experiences were comparably minor considering the abject misery perpetrated on many people, particularly children, on the basis of ethnicity and religious beliefs. At a comparatively small cost to me, I was given the opportunity to witness and understand the discriminatory effects suffered by various minorities in this country – and understood that they suffered far worse than anything I had. Because of our family’s experience with this lawsuit, my brother Dannel and I share valuable perspective on the importance of human rights and the diversity of humankind.

Sages have observed that experiencing major challenges in life allows one to appreciate the good and important things in life.  A close-knit and stable family environment helped us as well. Rancor was totally absent at our home, which gave Dan and me a warm refuge at the end of a stressful day. Although my mother’s lawsuit had the potential to adversely affect my father’s career, he stood by her throughout the ordeal and never once complained or withdrew his support.

My father remained at the University of Illinois until his retirement many years later.

Dan graduated from Illinois in 1958, and eventually became the longest-serving mayor of Champaign up to that point – the second known Democrat and first known atheist to hold the job. He is a published author of several books, one of which, The Lord Was Not on Trial, tells the well-documented story of the case. PBS made a similarly-named documentary of the case.

Our little brother Errol obtained an engineering degree and became a successful entrepreneur.

I became an attorney and maintained a 34-year practice in Rochester, New York. I am now a student at Southern Arkansas University, in my second retirement, and expect to graduate next month with a degree in history.

My mother returned to college to complete her bachelor’s degree and went on to acquire a master’s degree.  She served three years as the president of the American Humanist Association. She was an original signer of the Humanist Manifesto II in 1973 and of the Humanist Manifesto III in 2003.  Her book, One Woman’s Fight, is a memoir of her pursuit of the cause.

In her later years, she became a world traveler, visiting all seven of the world’s continents.  She even became trapped in the Amazon jungle for a couple of weeks on one of her excursions.  My father, commenting upon the recounting of the experiences of one of her travels, said, “The woman is fearless!”

Indeed, she was.

This article has been edited slightly from the remarks Jim McCollum gave to the congregation of All Souls Unitarian Universalist Church in Shreveport, Louisiana on Sunday, April 7, 2018. Jim McCollum provided the photos. Jim and his wife, Betty Grace McCollum, a Unitarian Universalist minister and professor at Southern Arkansas University in Magnolia, Arkansas, are long-standing friends and members of the Arkansas Society of Freethinkers.