Selma's 'smallest freedom fighter' reflects on Civil Rights Movement 59 years later
March 7 marks the 59th anniversary of Bloody Sunday.
Sheyann Webb-Christburg had just turned 9 years old when she became Selma's "smallest freedom fighter," joining protesters walking from Selma to Montgomery in what would become a turning point in the fight for voting rights for Black Americans.
Webb-Christburg, now 68, spoke with ABC News about those protests, 59 years ago, and how what she saw and experienced pushed her into a lifetime of activism.
'A day . . . I would never ever forget'
On March 7, 1965, hundreds of people crossed Alabama's Edmund Pettus Bridge to begin a multi-day march of more than 50 miles from Selma to Montgomery to rally Black voters in a state with a history of voter suppression efforts.
The peaceful demonstrators were violently attacked by state troopers and civilians aiming to stop the march in its tracks, according to the White House archives, leaving marchers beaten and battered.
The late Georgia Rep. John Lewis suffered a skull fracture from the altercation; he was one of dozens of demonstrators treated in local hospitals for their injuries.
"There was times when I was scared and fearful for my life," said Webb-Christburg, who was able to run to safety, away from the violence. "But my most traumatic experience, as that little girl, was my participation ... on the Bloody Sunday. It marks a day in time in which I would never ever forget."
The violence -- dubbed "Bloody Sunday" -- was televised, drawing anger and protests against the attacks from many Americans and leaders across the country.
In the third attempt of the march, which began on March 21, 1965, roughly 25,000 nonviolent protesters led by MLK reached Montgomery in the final leg of the demonstration on March 25 under the protection of federal troops.
The march led to the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 in August, banning voter suppression tactics such as literacy tests and poll taxes, and mandated federal oversight of voter registration.
For Webb-Christburg, this isn't a piece of history. It is her life.
"Growing up and experiencing racial discrimination was pretty common to me as a little girl," said Webb-Christburg.
'For whites only, for Blacks only'
As an inquisitive young girl, she'd always asked why there were signs "for whites only, for Blacks only."
"I was smart enough to know the difference as a little girl, because the whites side -- or the white privileges that they had -- was different from what blacks had," said Webb-Christburg.
She lived near Brown Chapel AME Church in Selma, which became a vital meeting ground for civil rights activists in the 1960s and for the voting rights movement in the South.
Webb-Christburg said she was a disobedient child, making her way to mass meetings and rallies at the church as well as marches at the objection of her parents.
"I would follow my own instincts as a child, and make my way to Brown Chapel AME Church for the mass meetings, and many times make my way on the marches without going to school," said Webb-Christburg.
The church was where she said she met the Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. and was inspired by his calls for "a movement," though she said she knew little of what that meant at her age.
The death of Jimmie Lee Jackson, a 26-year-old church deacon and voting rights activist from Marion, who was shot by a state trooper, helped spur the historic march amid the violence that plagued many voting rights demonstrations at the time.
The violence and discrimination faced by protesters sparked fears of Webb-Christburg's parents about her safety if she were to participate in the march to Montgomery. She was expressly given orders not to participate, but still she marched.
On the last night of the march, just before the walk from St. Jude to Montgomery would take place, Webb-Christburg said demonstrators discovered she was there by herself without parental supervision.
She said her parents came to pick her up, and she cried all the way back to Selma: "I thought I was gonna get a whipping."
She continued, "But you know what happened? I cried so much and my dad saw how hurt I was because they had to pick me up and I had to leave Dr. King in the rally. He got up early the next morning and he took me back to Montgomery to be a part of that march from St. Jude to the capital, a day in time that I'll never ever forget."
Webb-Christburg told ABC News that being around Freedom Fighters, as protesters were called, and learning from them motivated her to continue her civil rights advocacy.
"Experiencing and witnessing racial discrimination, violence, tears, and even death of people that I had the opportunity to meet as that little girl -- it was devastating."
As the co-author of "Selma, Lord, Selma: Girlhood Memories of the Civil-Rights Days," she hopes her story can be the motivation for the next generation to not just understand their past, but to make a change in the present.
"We must understand how important it is for us to listen to the voices of our young people today. They are the voices of hope, the instruments of change in our instruments of progress and peace in this world today," said Webb-Christburg.