In the mid-1970s, Betty Thompson sought a permit from the city council to build a swimming pool in the backyard of her University City home. Her simple request was met with derision.
鈥淢rs. Thompson, no black person who鈥檚 ever lived on the north side of University City can possibly afford to build a swimming pool,鈥� she recalled in her 2018 memoir, "Rising above the Battle Scars: If You Can Take It in Life, You Can Make It."
That was the spark that caused her to run for the University City City Council several years later. She won and became the city鈥檚 first African American councilwoman.
Thompson, whose life was defined by public and community service, died Sunday, July 11, 2021, of complications from diabetes.
Services are pending.
At first, her fellow aldermen saw her as 鈥渢hat social-service woman, that welfare-giveaway person,鈥� she told the St. Louis Post-Dispatch in 1990.
That changed during 18 years on the city council. Then she was elected to the Missouri House of Representatives, where she served eight years.
Great glory
With an infusion of compassion from her mother and a 鈥済et-it-done鈥� attitude from her father, Thompson spent her life outwitting challenges.
Born prematurely, her first crib was a shoebox. Growing up in St. Louis in Carr Square Village and Pruitt-Igoe housing developments, she wore bonnets to dissuade playmates鈥� taunts about her total alopecia.
As conditions deteriorated and dreams faded, Thompson鈥檚 father organized the White Caps, a citizens patrol to help keep Pruitt-Igoe safe. Thompson was by his side at White Caps meetings, learning how to plan and organize.
She also got a taste of politics from her father. Thompson, along with all of her siblings, helped him distribute campaign materials for a Missouri state representative, James 鈥淧al鈥� Troupe.
But it was many years before Thompson considered politics herself. Instead, she chose community service.
In high school, she worked summers at a government-funded community clinic and honed her speaking skills in the Baptist church.
鈥淲herever there was a need, I was sure to be there,鈥� Thompson wrote in her autobiography.
Her 鈥済reatest glory,鈥� she said, came through her work at the Human Development Corporation, a government-funded program. She began in 1964, the year that President Lyndon B. Johnson declared his war on poverty.
Her office was across the street from where she grew up, now known simply as 鈥渢he projects.鈥� The program distributed butter and cheese and other government commodities and helped people pay their utility bills and find jobs.
''My office was bombed and shot up,鈥� she told the Post-Dispatch in 1990. 鈥淲e worked in the projects when the water froze or flooded the units. We tried to keep the drug pushers and the murderers away.鈥�
It didn鈥檛 always work.
Once, gang members threatened her life. They wrongly believed that she, along with her friend and housing co-manager, Ruby Russell, and U.S. Rep. William 鈥淏ill鈥� Clay Sr., were telling police where they stored and sold their drugs.
She said it was all worth it as, over the years, she was often approached by people who thanked her again, usually for helping them get their first job. Among the grateful were St. Louis鈥� first Black mayor, Freeman Bosley Jr., and heavyweight champion brothers Leon and Michael Spinks.
Stepping up
It was the civil rights era, and Thompson joined other St. Louisans 鈥� Percy Green, Norman Seay, Charles and Marian Oldham and others 鈥� in picketing to desegregate eateries like Howard Johnson鈥檚. They fought for jobs for Black workers at places like Jefferson Bank. She marched for fair housing beyond public housing and led rent strikes.
She also marched with the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and developed a friendship with Coretta Scott King. For years, she led the local King support group. In 1988, Thompson was the first African American woman arrested in Washington, D.C., for protesting against apartheid in South Africa.
Thompson didn鈥檛 consider a political career until her husband, Jack, an Air Force veteran who later worked as the chief of security for General Motors, was severely injured.
Following a company party in 1973, Jack broke his neck, arm and leg in a car accident. After he spent months in traction, his doctors recommended swimming as therapy.
The Thompsons decided to put a pool in the backyard of their home; the University City City Council thought otherwise.
When Thompson requested a building permit, she said council members laughed.
The incident angered her and 鈥渟parked a burning desire within me to run for city council just so I could change that.鈥�
Several years later, she mounted a campaign with no fundraising. All she had was a legion of young people getting the word out and a 10-block parade.
She took her seat on the city council in 1980.
No 'stop' button
Thompson, a Democrat, narrowly lost a mayoral race in 1988, the same year she served as a Jesse Jackson presidential delegate. But in 1997 she won a special election to the Missouri House of Representatives. She represented District 72 in St. Louis County.
During her four, two-year terms, the maximum allowed by term limits, she served as the House鈥檚 majority whip and vice chair of the state鈥檚 Ethics Commission.
She sponsored legislation that dealt with health care, education, public utilities and housing. She helped pass bills to help prevent racial profiling.
Not generally known as a corporate supporter, Thompson 鈥渢ook some hits鈥� for her support of the successful legislation to help fund the Cardinals' new stadium and Ballpark Village.
"I can handle it; I've got strong shoulders," she told the St. Louis Business Journal in 2002, citing simple economics as the reason for her support.
One bill she sponsored was personal: legislation that requires health insurance to pay for wigs for people with alopecia. The bill passed in 2003.
The summer before she entered high school, Thompson said, a family friend, Ms. Cecil, gave her her first wig. That kind gesture, she said, 鈥渙pened up a whole new world for me.鈥�
鈥淚 don鈥檛 have a 鈥榮top鈥� button,鈥� Thompson said of her widespread legislative efforts. 鈥淚 didn鈥檛 really consider myself a politician, but more so a community servant.鈥�
Battle scars
鈥淚 don鈥檛 know why people go to jail and use their one phone call to call my mother,鈥� Thompson recalled her son Tony musing.
He knew why. They called her because they knew she鈥檇 spent a lifetime running interference for others and had the scars to prove it 鈥� and some wounds were personal.
In "Rising Above the Battle Scars," part memoir, part inspirational, self-help manual, she devoted a chapter to the death of a son, Tyrone Thompson, and a grandson, Tyrell Thompson.
Both were victims of gun violence, a scourge she鈥檇 spent her life trying to reduce. During the trial of one of Tyrone鈥檚 killers, the young man鈥檚 mother begged for her forgiveness. Thompson told the woman that it wasn鈥檛 her fault.
With her sons Tony and Kwame; Tony鈥檚 wife, Kim; and her daughter Sonja, Thompson established the Tyrone Thompson Institute for Nonviolence.
The institute is a program of the Kwame Foundation, which provides career assistance to public school students. Thompson served as director of the foundation.
The good life
Betty Lou Bolden Thompson was born Dec. 3, 1939, in Helm, Mississippi. She was the fourth child and first daughter of William Sam Bolden Sr. and Lubirtha Bolden鈥檚 13 children.
She was six months old when the family moved to St. Louis. Hers was one of the first families to move into the new Carr Square Village public housing complex in 1945. The family later moved to the newer Pruitt-Igoe development, where, she said, 鈥渓ife was good.鈥�
Thompson attended Vashon High School for two years before transferring to Sumner High School to be with her best friend, Elaine Webb, who became her sister-in law. Tina Turner, whom she knew as Anna Mae Bullock, was in her 1958 graduating class.
She attended Harris Stowe State College and received a certificate of business from Hubbard鈥檚 Business College and a certificate of managerial management from Washington University.
In addition to 26 years at HDC and a political career, Thompson worked six years for St. Louis County government and hosted a public service program on KATZ for 25 years. She and her husband owned K&M Delivery Service.
While dancing with her future husband, a would-be rival pulled her wig from her head. She rushed from the dance floor and didn鈥檛 reappear for two hours. Jack was waiting for her and proposed.
Thompson is survived by her husband and her children, Anthony Thompson, Sonja M. Thompson-Branscom and Kwame Thompson; and seven grandchildren.