Friend of Malcolm X Was at the Audubon Ballroom on the Day of Assassination
Peter Bailey remembers crying and chaos the night he was killed
BY PETER BAILEY
FOR THE NEW YORK DAILY NEWS
Saturday, February 14, 2015, 9:15 PM
There were about four or five of us backstage talking to Malcolm. We were all members of the Organization of Afro-American Unity.
Malcolm looked a little harried for the first time. He was not as high in spirits as I always remembered him.
We said to him: “Why don’t you go home? People understand all the stuff you’ve been through.”
He said, “No, I need to be here because people want to hear from me directly on the banning of France (Malcolm had been barred from entering the country) and the firebombing (His home had been burned down a week earlier).”
At one point, he asked if any of us would recognize the Rev. Milton Galamison. I said I know what he looks like. He said, “Go out front and when he comes in, bring him backstage.”
I went out front in the lobby area and was waiting for Galamison. While I was sitting there looking at the front door, I heard Brother Malcolm say, “As-salamu alaikum,” or “Peace be upon you.”
The next thing I heard were the shots. I ran through the swinging doors into the auditorium and got knocked to the floor. People were screaming and yelling and cursing and crying.
When the shooting stopped, I jumped up and I ran and I jumped on the stage. (Civil rights activist) Yuri Kochiyama had him in her arms.
When they opened his shirt, you could see all the bullet holes in his body. I looked down at him and I remember saying to myself, “He’s gonna die. He’s gonna die.”
The brothers had bogarted this stretcher from Columbia-Presbyterian, which was right across the street. They had put him on it and taken him back to the hospital. I was kind of in a daze walking through there. I jumped down off the stage and I could see people still laying on the floor. Chairs all knocked over. People crying. I was crying. People looking dazed.
It literally almost looked like a battlefield. This was a huge ballroom. There were chairs scattered all over the place that had been knocked over.
People were still laying on the floor. I don’t think they were hurt. They were just laying on the floor, couldn’t get up basically.
A friend took me by the arm and got me out of the place and got me in a taxi that drove me home.
I spent the next couple of days in total grief and anger.
BY PETER BAILEY
FOR THE NEW YORK DAILY NEWS
Saturday, February 14, 2015, 9:15 PM
There were about four or five of us backstage talking to Malcolm. We were all members of the Organization of Afro-American Unity.
Malcolm looked a little harried for the first time. He was not as high in spirits as I always remembered him.
We said to him: “Why don’t you go home? People understand all the stuff you’ve been through.”
He said, “No, I need to be here because people want to hear from me directly on the banning of France (Malcolm had been barred from entering the country) and the firebombing (His home had been burned down a week earlier).”
At one point, he asked if any of us would recognize the Rev. Milton Galamison. I said I know what he looks like. He said, “Go out front and when he comes in, bring him backstage.”
I went out front in the lobby area and was waiting for Galamison. While I was sitting there looking at the front door, I heard Brother Malcolm say, “As-salamu alaikum,” or “Peace be upon you.”
The next thing I heard were the shots. I ran through the swinging doors into the auditorium and got knocked to the floor. People were screaming and yelling and cursing and crying.
When the shooting stopped, I jumped up and I ran and I jumped on the stage. (Civil rights activist) Yuri Kochiyama had him in her arms.
When they opened his shirt, you could see all the bullet holes in his body. I looked down at him and I remember saying to myself, “He’s gonna die. He’s gonna die.”
The brothers had bogarted this stretcher from Columbia-Presbyterian, which was right across the street. They had put him on it and taken him back to the hospital. I was kind of in a daze walking through there. I jumped down off the stage and I could see people still laying on the floor. Chairs all knocked over. People crying. I was crying. People looking dazed.
It literally almost looked like a battlefield. This was a huge ballroom. There were chairs scattered all over the place that had been knocked over.
People were still laying on the floor. I don’t think they were hurt. They were just laying on the floor, couldn’t get up basically.
A friend took me by the arm and got me out of the place and got me in a taxi that drove me home.
I spent the next couple of days in total grief and anger.
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