If Any Milwaukeean Deserves a Statue in Madison, It’s Vel Phillips

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Image: Richard G. Carter

Vel Phillips Sepia magazine 1958

Vel Phillips Sepia magazine 1958

I was astonished learning that trail-blazing Black Milwaukee legislator, Vel Phillips—who passed away at 94 in 2018—will be memorialized with a statue in the state Capitol at Madison. Not because this close friend of my late parents was accorded the honor, but the lady we simply called “Vel” in her activist days, loved to rock the boat pro-Black style. 

Vel’s momentous selection was commented on by Sierra Rooney, an assistant professor of art history at the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse, who noted that a mere 6 percent of all public monuments in America portray real women of history.

“Isn’t that a shocking number? It’s incredibly low,” she said. “It has to do with the history of who we have considered heroes. And for most of American history, that has been men.

“I think women, including people of color, who we do not historically see on these pedestals, it can spur us to look at this history because monuments represent our values,” she said. “When we build a monument, we are giving people of the future tangible, visible clues about what we value. We have commemorated presidents and military heroes and explorers, and women were not allowed to participate in those professions,” she added.

Placing the Monument

The state Department of Administration approved plans in 2021 for a monument to Vel on the Capitol grounds at the corner of West Main and South Carroll streets. To be constructed by a New York artist, it is said to be the first statue of a Black woman in America outside of Rosa Parks at the Capitol building in Washington. 

Upon hearing the news, my cousin Michael Phillips—Vel’s nephew who lives in Racine—said: “My aunt has certainly done a lot of firsts, and we know that. But this is a moment to look forward to some of the firsts we can anticipate.” Michael and I grew up together, sharing much time in a big house at 117 W. Vine St., where Vel often visited us.  

Among her many accomplishments, Vel was secretary of state from 1979-‘83, the first Black woman to be elected statewide. But she earlier made us proud in Milwaukee by making her mark as on outspoken, pro-Black member of the Common Council’s finance and public utilities committees.

‘Firstest with the Mostest’

Although Vel and my mother and father, Juanita and Sanford Carter, spent lots of time together, my initial professional exposure came when I interviewed her for my first opinion piece in a national publication. In October 1958, Sepia magazine—competing with Ebony—ran my piece headlined, “Milwaukee’s First Woman Alderman” with an expressive photo.

I began: “’Firstest with the mostest,’ is an apt way to describe Milwaukee’s Vel Phillips, indeed, a very remarkable person.” I went on to detail her many activist and political achievements, including sharing a thriving law practice with her husband, Dale Phillips—another first for Wisconsin. She also was “the first Negro to serve as national committeewoman for a state political party (Democrat) organization—elected to serve out the term of Mrs. Betty Gracien, who resigned to take a job in Washington …”

Owing to Vel and Dale—brother of Paul Phillips, Marquette University track star and husband of my mother’s sister Ethel—I was urged to do the piece after graduating from Marquette’s College of Journalism. 

In the succeeding years, I got to know Vel well, and loved her vivacious sense of self-deprecating humor. I frequently mentioned this to her, and how it reminded me of her great good friend, the legendary Black Milwaukee newswoman, the late Mattiebelle Woods.

One of the best examples was at a picnic George F. Sanders and I hosted honoring Vel in the summer of 1989 at Kern Park. Among the casually dressed attendees were my wife, Janice; John and Rosa Givens and their two daughters; newsman Bill Kurtz and his wife Marge; wheelchair bound Jake Beason; Milwaukee Journal editorial page editor Dave Behrendt, Journal columnist Jay Anderson and ex-New Yorker Joe Dolan. 

A jaunty, 65-year-old Vel arrived wearing a short-sleeve, white tee-shirt emblazoned “Brown Sugar” and, laughing and joking, shook every hand—man, woman and child—in the happy throng. She was in her element and made sure everyone had a good time. 

In 1994, a year after returning from New York, I hosted an inside-outside party at my Northridge Lakes apartment at which Vel sparkled with conversation and byplay with Howard Fuller, Annette (Polly) Williams, Larry Harwell, Shepherd Express’ Dave Berkman; Sanders, Anderson, Michael McGee Sr. and his wife, Penelope, and my high school pals Jesse Nixon, John Givens, Gerald Payne, James Reed and Alvin Russell.

Vel and Polly amused the guests with their byplay in my kitchen over how best to make a big pot of highly seasoned stew, on which everyone was to feast. 

In 1986-87—recalling our early days—Vel would proudly smile at me as I led the questioning during her appearances before the Milwaukee Journal editorial board, and in several lively guest shots in 1994-95 on my top-rated, controversial WNOV radio program “The Carter-McGee Report.” On the air, she deftly responded to challenging calls from listeners – referring to many by name. During the latter, when I’d play a doo-wop record—especially the Spaniels’ 1953 classic “Baby, It’s You” loved by listeners—Vel would sing along, delighting my co-host, ex-alderman McGee Sr. 

Finally, in light of the unexpected, wonderful news about Vel’s richly deserved statue in Madison at the state Capitol, I happily hark back to how I ended my Sepia piece. To wit:

“Vel Phillips impresses those who meet her with her straightforward character and warm charm. It is this feeling of friendliness and understanding that endears her to the citizens she represents.”

And I clearly recall her words when she called me after seeing my Sepiamagazine profile: “You really did it, Dickie. A young man like you. Thanks so much. Please tell Nita [my late mother, Juanita] how much I appreciate what you did. I will never forget it, or you.”

That was Vel Phillips, Black Milwaukee’s very own “Lady Vel,” of whom we continue to be proud. Indeed, there may never be another quite like her. And she certainly deserves the state Capitol statue.