Winter and spring 1918 found Lakeland's African-American community as focused on European events as on those at home.

On April 6, 1917, the United States had entered the 3-year-old "Great War," what we know as World War I. The times had not been good ones for black Americans, including those in Polk County. "Jim Crow Era" racial segregation and discrimination ruled the land in one form or another. Racial violence repeatedly surfaced, often producing deadly results.

Within this climate, a few influential Lakelanders had challenged black residents' wartime loyalty. Race leaders such as the Revs. Samuel J. Johnson of Bethel AME Church and Williams Smith of the First Baptist Church (formerly St. John Baptist) reacted by exposing the slander in public forums. Lakeland's Evening Telegram, prompted by their spirited rebuttal, joined in condemning "certain white persons trying to sow the seeds of disaffection."

One year later, thanks to action on several fronts, white apprehensions had disappeared. As young black men moved toward military service "over there," activists headed Red Cross fund drives and other activities to support them. Particularly, Rebecca Boyd led the Red Cross' War Fund Campaign, aided by Victoria Clarke, Lucy White and Mrs. Eldon Brannon.

Fundraising led one to another. January 1918, for instance, found N.C. Adderly and Alma Carolina taking lead roles in a dramatic production that raised a significant sum despite "a severe thunderstorm." Similarly, in May, A.L. Brunson and J.M. Mells succeeded in tripling January's financial harvest during a citywide Red Cross drive. "This is a great work and you can help us win the war," they had proclaimed.

The sale of war savings stamps ranked highly among initiatives. A March 1918 event highlighted former judge William Harrison, head of the Oklahoma Red Cross' "colored auxiliary." At Lakeland, Harrison stressed a race heritage of courage and service. "The negro was present at Bunker Hill, on Lake Erie, in the War between the States," he exclaimed, "and ... in this war the negro [also is] doing his part."

An onlooker described the event as "a splendid demonstration of that patriotic feeling which all Americans, black and white, in these war times should have and show."

The next month, a traveling "war relic (railroad) car of the Government" spurred more fundraising. "The citizens by the thousands visited it," a reporter commented. "The officers in attendance were very courteous, and sold many Liberty Bonds. Many of our people took several Liberty Bonds, which stand to the credit of our people here, thus showing our patriotism."

Meanwhile, Lakeland's young men were departing for military service. A large group, numbering 125 draftees, left for Camp Dix, New Jersey, on June 19. A community member recorded, "On last Tuesday evening, at the public school auditorium, a grand reception was given in honor of the selected draftsmen who are to leave for the training camp in New Jersey."

He added, "A most beautiful program was rendered consisting of addresses that were delivered by Reverends S.J. Miller, A.L. Brunson, William(s) Smith, Professor (William A.) Rochelle, also Rev. Wallace Weir (white). A most excellent paper was read by Mrs. E.E. Houston, and a beautiful solo was sung by Miss Wallace."

Home ties naturally loomed importantly to most departed servicemen, while loved ones eagerly awaited word from them. Sgt. Will Perry, one-time porter at Lakeland's Red Cross Pharmacy, reached out in September from Camp Devens, Massachusetts. Thoughts of home crowded his mind, but they competed with prospects of foreign service.

"Some of the boys that came with me here have already gone over. They was transferred to other camps and then sent over seas," Perry wrote. "There is one thing that you can bet on — if you are not a sound man, you won't ever see France. They are not sending anything but good men over there."

One of those "good men" chosen for service at the front was Sgt. Art Malone. From St. Nazaire, France, in late August, he regaled the folks at home with his account of the "great experience" produced by "my trip across the Atlantic." Malone had been thrilled that the American Library Association had provided "two thousand books, prose and poetry" to the ship. "So twenty-three days upon the 'angry sea' I spent in reading," he declared.

More than reading, though, the Lakelander craved action. "I do not know how long it will be before I shall be called to the front," he mused. "I am anxious to join my company; it has been there for some time. (Still,) I am in the game and the war business and I do not think that is bad for a fellow like me who has been in the army (only) four months."

At Lakeland as 1918 unfolded, fearful parents, spouses, and friends anxiously awaited further such news. Their fears, though, were not of disloyalty as some had questioned. They were of sacrifice and impending loss.