How James Brock and the Monson Motor Lodge Jumpstarted the 1964 Civil Rights Act
The acid, the arrests, and the image that Congress couldn’t ignore

The Voting Rights Act of 1965 was helped by a wave of publicity following the attack on 600 peaceful marchers led by 25-year-old John Lewis across the Edmund Pettus Bridge outside Selma, Alabama. March 7, 1965, became known as Bloody Sunday, when Alabama State Troopers used dogs and clubs to brutalize the non-violent marchers, and they did it on national television. The events in Selma galvanized public opinion and mobilized Congress to pass the Voting Rights Act, which President Johnson signed into law on August 6, 1965.
The Fair Housing Act of 1968 had a different impetus, the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. King was shot on April 4, 1968, and cities across America erupted in racial violence. The Fair Housing Act had been dragging in Congress but was passed on April 8, 1968. Those two events were not unrelated. The 1964 Civil Rights Act was spurred by events happening in St. Augustine, Florida, and James Brock found himself at the epicenter of those events.
James Brock was born in Benton, Tennessee, and raised in Chattanooga. At age 17, he joined the Navy and settled in Florida after his discharge. Brock found a job in the hotel industry and managed several hotels in the St. Augustine area. He became the owner of the Monson Motor Lodge in St. Augustine, along with his wife, Peggy, in 1960. Brock soon became a fixture in St. Augustine. In 1964, he served as president of the St. Augustine Hotel, Motel, and Restaurant Owners Association. He was a deacon and director of the training union at the Ancient City Baptist Church. Brock was also a staunch segregationist, and his hotel, like others in the area, didn’t cater to Black people.
The Monson Motor Lodge wasn’t a luxury destination, but it had a great location. At 32 Avenida Menendez, the motel sat directly on the Matanzas Bay waterfront, offering scenic views and easy access to major tourist attractions. It was just steps from the Plaza de la Constitución, Castillo de San Marcos, and the historic downtown district — making it highly visible to both locals and visitors. It was centrally located in the historic district. To James Brock’s chagrin, civil rights activists made the Monson Motor Lodge the target of their protests.
“St. Augustine is really worse than Birmingham. It’s the worst I’ve ever seen.” — Andrew Young
The St. Augustine Movement began a year earlier and had been active in St. Augustine long before national leaders, such as Dr. King, Andrew Young, and Ralph Abernathy, became involved. Local leaders, such as Dr. Robert Hayling, had been leading the charge. Hayling moved to St. Augustine, Florida, in 1960, to start his dental practice.
While many older African American residents were afraid of repercussions from participating in civil rights activities, Hayling was successful in recruiting younger people to the movement as advisor to the NAACP Youth Council and a local leader of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference.

A large cross was erected in a field near St. Augustine in September 1963. The cross was to be burned during a rally of the Ku Klux Klan, which had attracted national leaders of the organization. Hayling and three of his friends tried to catch a glimpse of the rally.
“We never thought that parking on the side of U.S. 1, on the shoulder of the road, looking over into the field where the rally was being held, that we would encounter difficulty. But we looked up and there were two klansmen in the front of the car with big guns, and two klansmen in the rear of the car with big guns,”
Hayling and his friends tried to escape, but were pulled from the car.
“We were taken out of the car with ax handles and baseball bats across our heads, and taken to the speaker’s platform,” Hayling remembered. “We were stacked on top of each other like cord wood.”
The four men were beaten further and threatened with being set on fire. When word came that law enforcement authorities from outside of the area were on their way to the rally, the crowd disbanded, and Hayling and his friends were released.
Hayling spent about two weeks in the hospital after being beaten by members of the KKK, but continued his civil rights activities. In February 1964, shots were fired into Hayling’s home, narrowly missing his pregnant wife and killing the family dog. In response to the violence aimed at his family, Hayling moved to Cocoa Beach. In the summer of 1964, national attention was focused on St. Augustine as the Civil Rights Act languished in Congress. Hayling returned to the city to coordinate peaceful demonstrations with Dr. Martin Luther King. Hayling was the local architect of the St. Augustine Movement, and it was he who targeted the Monson Motor Lodge for activities.
On June 11, 1964, Dr. King tried to have lunch at Monson’s whites-only restaurant. James Brock refused to serve him, which led to King’s arrest for trespassing. MLK spent the night in the St. Johns County Jail, where he wrote a personal letter to Rabbi Israel Dresner. Dresner gathered 16 other Rabbis who were arrested on June 18 while staging a prayer vigil at the Monson Motor Lodge. That was the largest mass arrest of rabbis in American history.
June 18 was a busy day for James Brock. Shortly after, the rabbis were arrested while praying in the parking lot. An integrated group of protesters jumped into the swimming pool and refused to leave. Brock ran over and screamed at the protesters, trying unsuccessfully to prod them with a pole. When that didn’t work, Brock ran to the pool shed, grabbed a gallon of muriatic acid, and began pouring it on the protesters in the pool. Brock had the misfortune of being photographed while pouring the chemicals. That photo became iconic and was featured in newspapers nationwide. The culmination of events, including the separate arrests of Dr. King and the rabbis, photos of protesters beaten while attempting to integrate the beach, and now James Brock pouring acid on people, was too much. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed on July 2, 1964, exactly two weeks after its introduction.
The good news for James Brock was that he faced no criminal charges despite being photographed pouring muriatic acid on people. For the record, pouring muriatic acid (a diluted form of hydrochloric acid) into a pool occupied by people is extremely dangerous. It could cause serious harm — even death — depending on the concentration and exposure. Direct contact can cause chemical burns, severe eye damage, and skin irritation. The fumes released can lead to respiratory distress, coughing, and even lung injury if inhaled. If ingested accidentally (e.g., through splashing), it can cause burns to the esophagus and stomach.
Local authorities saw Brock as a sympathetic victim of circumstance, and he was never arrested or charged. It isn’t as if he were videotaped receiving $50,000 in cash or something. The St Johns Sheriff and St Augustine Police Department were said to have several Klan members, so acid-pouring was seen as Brock’s civic duty.
The bad news was that after the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, Brock gradually and reluctantly integrated the Monson Motor Lodge. You’d think the Klan would be sympathetic to his situation, but instead, they firebombed the hotel, causing significant damage.
Brock continued to operate the hotel for years and remained active in Florida’s hotel industry well into the 1980s. He was honored as Florida’s Hotelier of the Year in 1987.
The story of James Brock and the Monson Motor Lodge is not just about a motel manager or a single act of cruelty — it’s about how ordinary places become battlegrounds for extraordinary change. In the shadow of Spanish colonial architecture and tourist charm, St. Augustine bore witness to a moral reckoning that forced America to confront its contradictions. The acid in the pool, the rabbis in handcuffs, and the quiet resolve of local activists, such as Dr. Robert Hayling, transformed a roadside lodge into a national symbol of resistance and reform. Weeks later, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 became law — not despite St. Augustine, but because of it. And while the Monson was eventually demolished, its legacy remains etched in the conscience of a country still learning how to reconcile its past with its promise.



Another bit of our terrible history that I was never taught. Thank you.
And exactly why the current band of "protestors" makes for meh theater.