Walker, Eda Wade, Harriet Tubman Memorial Mural, 1968-69. Paint on masonite panels, mounted to facade of St. Bernard of Clairvaux Church, Mack Avenue at Lillibridge, Detroit.
Photo credit: Chicago Mural group
The Harriet Tubman Memorial Wall mural (also known as the “Biblical Wall” or “Let My People Go”) was commissioned by Father Thomas Kerwin and his colleagues at the church of St. Bernard of Clairvaux, located across the street from the Wall of Dignity and near the site of violence and looting during the 1967 Uprising on the East Side. Walker and Eda began working on the masonite panels in late 1968 and completed installation in January 1969. The mural’s imagery centered on the Old Testament scene of Moses demanding freedom from the Egyptian Pharaoh, here both rendered as people of African descent. That section is flanked on one side by a tribute to Harriet Tubman, on the other side a procession of contemporary Black political and religious leaders leading a group of anonymous, everyday people.
Dedication of the Harriet Tubman Memorial Mural, St. Bernard of Clairvaux Church, 1969
Photo source: Archdiocese of Detroit Archives, St. Bernard Clairvaux Collection, Box 5 Folder 22
The Harriet Tubman Memorial Wall holds a significant place in Detroit’s cultural and historical landscape as one of the city’s earliest Black Power murals. William Walker and Eugene “Eda” Wade, designed the mural to be mounted across the front of the Catholic church of St. Bernard of Clairvaux on the East Side. Its presence reflected the struggles faced by Detroit’s Black community during a period of racial and social turmoil, serving as a call to pride and solidarity through public art.
This mural was part of a larger movement influenced by Chicago’s Wall of Respect, a landmark project that celebrated African American leaders and ignited a national wave of grassroots mural projects. In Detroit, the Harriet Tubman Memorial Wall became a prime example of how public art could reclaim urban spaces and celebrate Black history. Positioned prominently on Mack Avenue, the mural served as a visual centerpiece for the surrounding neighborhood, reinforcing community identity and empowerment while connecting its message to the religious setting of the church.
Although the Harriet Tubman Memorial Wall no longer exists, its legacy endures in Detroit’s public art and cultural memory. It demonstrated how murals could be used as tools for activism, social transformation, and community dialogue. By honoring Tubman, the mural emphasized the importance of uplifting Black narratives during a time of intense racial tension, cementing its role in advancing the tradition of public art as a medium for resistance and advocacy.
Father Donald Archambault recounts his experiences at St. Bernard of Clairvaux during July 1967. Screenshot from interview with WXYZ Detroit, 2017.
St. Bernard of Clairvaux Church in Detroit became a vital force in empowering and supporting the city’s Black community, especially through its use of art and liturgy. As detailed in the comprehensive history of the Archdiocese by Leslie Woodcock Tentler, the parish served as a refuge for Detroit’s Black Catholics during a time of intense racial and economic challenges. Amid the city’s industrial decline and rising racial tensions, including the 1967 Uprising, St. Bernard's provided a space where the community could find solidarity and affirmation. The church’s integration of culturally significant artwork and inclusive practices created an environment where Black identity and Catholic faith could intersect.
St. Bernard’s use of artwork was particularly impactful. The church embraced vibrant murals and sacred imagery that celebrated Black culture, transforming the space into a powerful expression of resilience and belonging. These visual elements were not merely decorative—they served as a statement that the contributions and experiences of Black Catholics were valued and essential to the broader faith community. This approach echoed the principles announced in 1965 by the Second Vatican Council (Vatican II), which encouraged churches to engage deeply with the cultures they served.
In addition to its art, St. Bernard’s focus on inclusive liturgy helped foster a sense of unity and advocacy. As an article in The Detroit Catholic highlights, the parish became a center for healing and dialogue in the aftermath of the city’s unrest. By aligning itself with the Civil Rights Movement and the broader Black Catholic movement, the church offered not only spiritual support but also a platform for addressing racial injustice.
The impact of these efforts can also be understood through the lens of liturgical renewal, as discussed in an article on “Liturgy and the Human Community” that was published in a Catholic journal in 1968. This theological perspective emphasizes the role of worship in promoting equality and community transformation. St. Bernard reflected this vision, using its liturgy to inspire action and hope, while addressing systemic inequities that weighed heavily on Detroit’s Black residents.
Through its embrace of art, inclusive worship, and advocacy, St. Bernard of Clairvaux Church empowered Detroit’s Black Catholic community, offering a much-needed sense of dignity, pride, and unity during a period of profound upheaval. Its legacy stands as a testament to the transformative power of faith and cultural expression in times of struggle.
An image of St. Bernard of Clairvaux’s Church before it was decommissioned in the late 1980s would capture its majestic Gothic architecture, a structure that once stood as a beacon of hope and faith. The church was integral to the neighborhood, not just as a place of worship but also as a hub for social and cultural activities. Its presence resonated deeply with Detroit’s Black community, especially during the mid-20th century when systemic racism and segregation left many seeking places of refuge and solidarity. Churches like St. Bernard of Clairvaux’s offered more than sermons; they were centers for civil rights advocacy, education, and cultural expression.
The mural, titled Let My People Go, celebrated Tubman’s legacy of resistance and liberation while inspiring local residents to draw upon her courage in their own struggles. The mural also reflected the ethos of the church, which provided spiritual and moral support during a time when the Black Power movement was reshaping the cultural and political landscape of Detroit.
Harriet Tubman (Let My People Go) mural- before church abandonment.
Photo credit: Mark Rogovin, ca 1970, gift of Michelle Melin-Rogovin to the South Side Community Art Center, Chicago.
Former church of Saint Bernard of Clairvaux in July 2025.
Photo credit: Google Street View
In contrast, an image of St. Bernard of Clairvaux’s Church after abandonment would starkly portray its decline—broken windows, graffiti-covered walls, and overgrown vegetation. This imagery is a poignant reminder of the economic struggles and systemic neglect that devastated many of Detroit’s neighborhoods following the city’s post-industrial collapse. As the population dwindled and resources disappeared, institutions like St. Bernard of Clairvaux’s, which had once served as pillars of the community, were left to decay.
Despite its physical decline, the area’s cultural legacy endures. The Harriet Tubman mural, though no longer extant, lives on in the memories of those who witnessed its creation and impact. It stood as a powerful testament to resilience and the importance of Black narratives in shaping Detroit’s identity. Even in its abandoned state, the church’s remains and the echoes of its past serve as reminders of the cultural vibrancy that once defined this space.
A section of the decommissioned church was transformed into a shelter named Genesis House III, maintained by the Detroit Rescue Mission Ministry. This shelter was dedicated to assist women living in Detroit battling drug addictions. The construction of the shelter in the church is symbolic of the church’s original purpose: to spread awareness and advocate for communities in need. During the time of the church’s operation, the Black community of Detroit was in need of representation for their struggles. At the time of publication of “In search of Detroit’s Lost Walls of Dignity, Freedom, and Pride” by Jeff Huebner, large parts of the Rust Belt region of the United States, which includes Detroit, were ridden by drug epidemics. The opening of this shelter sticks to the plan of St. Bernard of Clairvaux’s church at its time of operation, as it supplied representation and aid to various women battling drug addiction in Detroit.
Written by William Kirkpatrick
Leslie Woodcock Tentler, Seasons of Grace: A History of the Catholic Archdiocese of Detroit. Wayne State University Press, 1990.
Michael M. Burke, O. P. “Liturgy and the Human Community,” Dominicana vol 53, No. 4 (Winter 1968): , 301-308
Jeff Huebner, “In Search of Detroit’s Lost Walls of Dignity, Freedom, and Pride” Detroit Metro Times February 26, 2020 Retrieved at https://www.metrotimes.com/arts/in-search-of-detroits-lost-walls-of-dignity-freedom-and-pride-23943418
“Fr. Archambault earns lifetime service award for decades of inner-city outreach. Detroit Catholic. Retrieved Accessed 11 December 2024, from https://www.detroitcatholic.com/news/fr-archambault-earns-lifetime-service-award-for-decades-of-inner-city-outreach.
Caroline Clifford, WXYZ News, “Detroit Priest Looks Back on the 1967 Riots and How They Changed Him,” April 28, 2017. https://www.wxyz.com/news/detroit1967/detroit-priest-looks-back-on-the-1967-riots-and-how-they-changed-him