Following the Baptist Church bombing in 1963, MLK telegrammed him that the blood of 4 girls “is on your hands”
The Final Jeopardy clue on Tuesday, June 17, 2025, brought players and viewers back to one of the darkest moments of the 1960s civil rights struggle. Under the category “The 1960s,” the clue read: “Following the Baptist Church bombing in 1963, MLK telegrammed him that the blood of 4 girls ‘is on your hands.’”
Who is George Wallace?
This clue referenced a moment of national grief and outrage following the September 15, 1963 bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama. The racially motivated attack killed four African American girls—Addie Mae Collins, Denise McNair, Carole Robertson, and Cynthia Wesley—during Sunday services. The bombing became a turning point in the civil rights movement, drawing international condemnation and spurring demands for legislative change in the United States.
George Wallace and His Role in the 1960s
The correct response, George Wallace, served as Governor of Alabama during the early 1960s and was known nationally for his staunch pro-segregation stance. Elected in 1962, Wallace became a central figure in resisting federal civil rights initiatives. Earlier in 1963, he had gained widespread attention by physically blocking the entrance of the University of Alabama in an attempt to prevent the enrollment of Black students, declaring in his inaugural address, “Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever.”
Following the church bombing, civil rights leaders—including Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.—placed direct blame on Wallace’s rhetoric and policies, which they believed emboldened extremists and encouraged violence. King sent Wallace a telegram holding him morally responsible for the deaths, stating that his political leadership had helped create an environment where such a tragedy could occur.
The Birmingham Bombing’s Impact
The bombing at the 16th Street Baptist Church became a watershed moment in the civil rights era. The church had been a frequent meeting place for civil rights organizers, and its destruction by a Ku Klux Klan-planted bomb was seen as a calculated attack on the movement itself. Public reaction was swift and intense. Thousands participated in protest marches and attended memorials for the girls, with King’s eulogy emphasizing both sorrow and a renewed call to action.
The event shocked the conscience of the nation and galvanized support for the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Though it would take years to bring all the perpetrators to justice—only one, Robert Chambliss, was convicted in 1977—the bombing and its aftermath underscored the human cost of racial hatred and the urgency for federal civil rights protections.
George Wallace’s Legacy
George Wallace would later attempt to soften his public image, particularly during his later political campaigns. In the 1980s, he issued apologies to civil rights leaders and sought reconciliation with the African American community, claiming a change of heart and publicly renouncing his earlier segregationist views. However, for many, Wallace remained a symbol of resistance to integration and a political figure whose actions and language during the 1960s contributed to an atmosphere of racial hostility.
Despite these later efforts, Wallace’s role during the peak of civil rights unrest remains one of the most controversial aspects of his career. His connection to events like the Birmingham bombing—even if indirect—was acknowledged by many at the time, including Dr. King, who viewed Wallace as bearing moral responsibility for the consequences of hate-fueled rhetoric.
Jeopardy’s Use of History as a Teaching Moment
Final Jeopardy often serves as a window into historical moments that have shaped the nation, and Tuesday’s clue did exactly that. By referencing this somber moment from 1963, the show prompted reflection on the legacy of the civil rights movement, the consequences of political leadership, and the enduring impact of words during times of national tension. It was a powerful reminder of how a single act of violence—and the broader social and political context surrounding it—can become a catalyst for change and a marker of historical responsibility.