"It had been a long walk, seemingly nothing. But the feeling in the ranks tremendous relief that we weren't thing to be hit."

Russel G. Davis, lecturer on Education, went to Selma Monday night to in the march on Montgomery out of indignation." He said in an yesterday that the marchers are not turned back until they had about half a mile farther from than they had in Sunday's march. There was a solid line of state troop- one side of the road; the local and posse--known locally as --on the other," he continued. end of the lines were massed a hundred troopers blocking the and half a mile or so of vehicles up behind them."

When king was told the march would have to end there, Davis said, he asked to pray. "It was an uncomfortable place kneel," he added. "And we couldn't or the prayers."

Police Embarrassed

Davis said that "some of the troopers embarrassed, some were nervous." laughed in relief when King to turn back." He also noted at the marchers "sang a lot louder back to Selma than we had when were leaving."

The unpleasantness did not occur on march, but in the town," Davis "Guys hanging around stores would stand in your way when you tried to buy something. They would ask what we thought we were doing there," he went on. "I replied that this is my country, too."

The major doubts in Davis' mind were, first, whether he was prepared to spend six months in prison if he were arrested for disobeying the injunction against the march, and, second, whether he, as an ex-Marine, could remain non-violent if he was attacked.

At the meeting before the march, a Harvard student gave "an admirably reasoned plea," Davis said, not to go against the Federal government. Davis complimented him on it, but, deciding to go ahead anyway, told him, "you're 25; you've only waited 25 years for them to go. I've been waiting 43 years."

He added that he "never did learn whether he could hold up under attack."

Courage Impressive

Davis was impressed most by the "tremendous courage of the local Negroes and the while Alabamans who joined in the march." He said that the out-of-state marchers should be given credit, but that they had, with some reason, been viewed by the local workers with little more than tolerance--"like we treated people who visited the line when we were Marines."

"If a civil rights worker stays in the Sough a year," he explained, "he accumulates a lot more nervous tension than a visitor," But Davis most respected the "Negroes who live there, whose homes and businesses are there."

Davis mentioned a "Negro girl who was standing by the side of the road, as if she was trying to decide whether she should join the march. I thought she was just shy, so I pulled her into the line."

"Later, I found out she had been trampled by the troopers' horses in the Sunday march," he added. "But she finished the march, and, coming back, she was singing and quite happy."