Rain or shine: Lillie Belle Allen's life, legacy celebrated during memorial in York city
A crowd, signs, and a megaphone were met with one request as people gathered at Penn Park and prepared to march—say her name.
Lillie Belle Allen was so much more than the 27-year-old who was murdered on York city’s Newberry Street 51 years ago.
And a memorial hosted by a local grassroots organization — Call to Action Worldwide — dedicated an evening to remember who she was before she was killed during the tumultuous York race riots.
“We don’t want it to be a doom to gloom [gathering],” head organizer Dr. Felicia Dennis said, adding that people would experience a taste of the South during Tuesday's celebration.
Led by the sound of beating drums — orchestrated by YWCA York Temple Guard — dozens of people marched from Penn Park, down South Pershing Avenue, across the bridge on Princess Street and up Newberry Street.
Boom. Lillie Belle Allen.
Boom. York city.
The coinciding drums and chants echoed throughout the blocks. Neighbors peered through windows and waved.
Some residents broke away from their evenings, walked out of their front doors and stood on their stoops, bobbing their heads.
Youths walked out of convenience stores as the crowd continued along Newberry Street and danced and recorded the happenings with their phones.
On the morning of July 21, 1969, Lillie Belle Allen was singing and excited to go fishing, according to her baby sister, Gladys Mosley. Allen also wanted to be a fashion designer and had plans to move to New York before her death.
Mosley was overcome by emotion Tuesday as she talked about her big sister, but scattered remarks from the crowd encouraged her to get through her speech.
“Hate is a consuming fire. It can and will destroy you if you let it take over your heart,” she continued.
Before the trial for Allen's death in the early 2000s, Mosley said, there "was no voice" for her sister and she was seemingly "a nonexistent person."
Mosley is assured that she and her family will continue to be Allen's voice and they'll reiterate that she was a person "that should've still been here."
Although Allen’s daughter, Debra Grier, wasn’t present, a letter she wrote was recited and it remembered her mother as a sister, friend, aunt, seamstress, a great cook, a hospitable host, and a woman equipped with a contagious smile.
“Our mother would be more than proud calling you family,” an excerpt of Grier’s letter read.
Dark gray clouds hovered over the memorial, and to organizers, the heavy rain that followed was symbolic.
“We look at the rain as a sign of purification of this area,” said Dennis, a longtime York resident who is related to Lillie Belle Allen's family through marriage. She remembers that the family helped raise and babysat her and her siblings
Other efforts to memorialize Allen have recently circulated, including a fundraiser that was set up to raise money for a permanent marker in Farquhar Park.
But Dennis and other family members would like a marker placed at the train tracks where Lillie Belle Allen lost her life. They’d also like more of a history attached to the marker and a better line of communication established between the family and those who would like to publicly honor Allen.
As thunder replaced the sound of drums and a torrential downpour soaked the streets, Gladys spread her arms wide, looked out at the remaining crowd, and rejoiced.
Neither the rain nor the 51 years that had passed could wash away her big sister’s name or memory.
