‘A rare, sacred kind of unity’: Omaha’s celebration of Black pride and togetherness to draw 17,000 back home

Cheryl Berry Neal didn’t have to think much about whether to make the trek from Atlanta to Omaha later this month. It is, after all, a homecoming — a celebration that some 17,000 other out-of-state visitors will join.

Held every two years, Native Omaha Days represents Nebraska’s largest observance of Black pride and solidarity. Organized by the Native Omahans Club, the weeklong celebration was born out of the turmoil of the 1960s and longstanding traditions that trace back to the end of slavery.

Omaha Days, as it’s known, has grown since the early years. Running from July 28 to Aug. 4, the 25th installment will feature a parade, social mixer, dance-dinner and a week of reunions, parties, concerts, tours and other events.

It has come to represent many things, regular attendees told the Flatwater Free Press.

It’s a reunion, a time to catch up with family and old friends. It’s a celebration of shared culture and history. It’s a remembrance of the past, the joy and pain. It’s an invitation to support Black-run businesses. It’s a party. And it’s a time to reflect on progress made and progress that has yet to come. 

The former surely includes the recent election of John Ewing, a North Omaha native who this spring became the city’s first elected Black mayor. The recently minted mayor sees this year’s event as an opportunity to open the door more permanently to the many visitors.

“I actually want as many of those to come back as possible and be excited about the opportunity we have in front of us and then maybe even consider staying and helping build what Omaha can be,” he said. “We’re a different Omaha maybe than when they left, and so let’s do great things together.”

Coming together was front of mind for Omaha Days’ late co-founders, Vera Johnson and Bettie McDonald, as they surveyed the landscape in the early ’70s. 

North 24th Street — the economic and cultural hub for Black Omahans — was devastated by a 1969 uprising that followed the police killing of 14-year-old Vivian Strong. It was one of several periods of unrest embodying frustration over long-simmering grievances — police brutality, lack of jobs and housing, and poor quality of life compared to white neighborhoods. 

Johnson and McDonald drew inspiration from other community-building efforts, both in Omaha and beyond. 

Stone Soul Picnic launched in 1971 as a single-day community gathering in Omaha, and it quickly grew into a weekend lollapalooza complete with live music, speakers, art and education displays. Neal’s mother, Janis Berry, was one of its founders.

But the actual inspiration for Omaha Days came after Johnson and McDonald attended a reunion for Omaha expats living in the Los Angeles area. The event, held in the historically Black neighborhood of Altadena, was one of several such gatherings of former Omahans — others occurred in Las Vegas, Dallas and Atlanta.

The reunions embodied a long-running tradition in Black communities that trace back to Emancipation and Juneteenth, said Omaha native and University of Iowa history professor Ashley Howard. 

“After the Civil War, the first priority for newly freed African Americans was to find their families and to strengthen those bonds,” Howard said. “If we think of the broadest sense of homecoming, it is reconnecting with people and places.” 

Back in Omaha, the story goes that Johnson and McDonald were so disappointed by what they experienced in Altadena that they resolved to organize one in their hometown. 

To solicit support, they formed the Native Omahans Club. The club remains the driving force behind Omaha Days to this day, with the Native Omaha Days Organizing Committee providing some assistance.

The first Omaha Days in 1977 was, by many accounts, a resounding success. An estimated 2,000 ex-Omahans returned for the festivities, including a Sunday picnic that drew some 10,000 people to N.P. Dodge Park, the Omaha Star reported.

The Star described the event as a “festive, nostalgic, beautiful and happy occasion,” and it quoted one attendee from California who said it was “the old Sunday School, Picnic, Omaha Day in Los Angeles and Juneteenth all wrapped into one.” 

The sense of togetherness has continued over the decades.

“It’s a living reunion not just of people, but of identity,” said Omahan Makayla McMorris. “Neighbors who haven’t spoken in years strike up conversations like no time has passed. Young folks hear old stories. Strangers become kin through shared memories. It’s a rare, sacred kind of unity.”

Omahan Monique Farmer still remembers the year when she was a teenager and her aunt secreted her out late to experience 24th Street. 

“It felt like one giant family reunion: music, laughter, hugs from people you hadn’t seen in years,” she said. “So much fun.”

Kimberly Sherrod Barnes, Native Omahans Club president, remembers power couple Gabrielle Union and Dwyane Wade showing up one year. Neal took a Heisman pose pic with Husker football legend Johnny Rodgers.

Rebekah Caruthers, president and CEO of the Fair Elections Center in Washington, and Ambyr Michelle, an Atlanta-based actress currently on the CBS soap “Beyond the Gates,” are among the Omaha natives who attend when possible.

“Coming back for it is definitely more important and special to me,” Michelle said. “It means everything — culture, community, coming together and celebrating what we love most about where we come from.”

Not all the devotees hail from Omaha. Sam Singleton left the East Coast to play basketball at then-Omaha University in the ’60s. He felt welcomed by a cohesive Black community — a feeling he didn’t experience elsewhere. He stuck around Omaha after college and made it his home, though he now lives in Virginia. 

“It has a significant meaning to me because of my relationship with this community and my experience there,” he said of Native Omaha Days. “It’s a chance to catch up with old friends who supported you and participated with you.”

For many, the parade, a 1.5-mile stretch of 30th Street from Lake to Sprague, is a must. This year’s grand marshal is 105-year-old Ruth Patrick Thomas. Honorary grand marshal Hazel Kellogg was the longest-serving Native Omahans Club president.

Farmer called the parade “the heartbeat of the whole celebration.”

“I love walking 24th Street, catching up with people, seeing the drill teams, handing out candy to the kids and just soaking up the energy,” she said. “I also love supporting the Black vendors … it’s about celebrating Omaha talent and spending our dollars in the community.”

Grown Folks Social Club owner George Robinson sees “a big uptick in business” during Omaha Days and extends his hours to accommodate the crowds. He has friends coming from as far as Tennessee this year.  “I just open the doors and they come,” he said.

Styles of Evolution owner Don McPherson reports a 30% to 40% increase in his clothing business, much of it from out of state visitors, including friends from Arizona. “Sometimes if things are really good we might not get out of here until 10-11 o’clock at night.” 

Great Plains Black History Museum executive director Eric Ewing expects the usual increase in visitors and memberships. The museum is featuring a local Black authors display, one of many special attractions served up that week by venues such as North Omaha Music and Arts, Union for Contemporary Art and Culxr House.

North 24th proprietors are bullish about the area’s potential, especially following Ewing’s pledge to stimulate more economic development in the area. 

North Omaha has seen several sizable investments in recent years, including a new North Omaha innovation district, currently in the planning stages. The state has allocated $30 million for the project. 

Business owner Robinson says for commerce there to grow, more for-profit ventures are needed to balance out the preponderance of nonprofits.

The importance of Omaha Days extends well beyond economics, reminds Howard, the Iowa history professor.

“The idea of Black people taking up public space, literally marching in the streets, is affirmation, even assertion we are here, we are proud … we’re going to party. That very public display of Black joy is a thing of beauty.”

Before co-founder Vera Johnson died, her daughter, Phyllis Mitchell-Butler, asked her if she realized the magnitude of what she helped build. She did — “(Her) pride level was just completely off the chain,” Mitchell-Butler said.

McMorris also is among those who marvel at how the event has grown.

“While it’s always had heart, I’ve seen it evolve to be more intentional about celebrating culture and confronting history. The storytelling runs deeper now. The youth involvement is stronger.  … We’re not just remembering the past, we’re shaping the narrative of our future.”

Editor’s note: This story has been updated to reflect the role of the Native Omahans Club.