In the introduction of The Last Segregated Hour, Stephen Haynes mentions the Walgreens in his Memphis neighborhood. In 1960, civil rights protesters were arrested there, and store managers soon removed their lunch counter instead of integrating it. Today, any memory of this store's contested history has all but faded away. In contrast, Haynes insists that longtime residents of Memphis who glance at Second Presbyterian Church (SPC) instantly recall biracial groups protesting the church's segregation policy in the mid-1960s. Similarly, many still sardonically refer to Independent Presbyterian Church (IPC) as “First Segregationist.” “Clearly,” the author resolves, “the moral standing of churches in this and other communities makes it difficult for people to forget, let alone excuse, what they perceive as immoral behavior on the part of church representatives” (6).

With this comparison, Haynes vividly outlines his book's contribution to the history and historiography of civil rights. Church protests—or “kneel-ins”—were small in number across the South. But these prayerful petitions left indelible marks on the region's physical, social, and religious landscape. Alas, Haynes laments that historians have given scarce attention to this topic. His book begins to fill this gap by using the Memphis kneel-ins of 1964–1965 as a point of departure for investigating the protests and their legacy.

The book's opening section—“The Forgotten Protests”—takes readers to the summer of 1960 when the first kneel-ins began in Atlanta. While some churches permitted protesters to enter, others did not, leading to what Haynes calls, “a spectacle of exclusion” (15). As media latched on to these accounts of rebuffed worshipers, leaders from the civil rights movement seized upon the idea and made it a key tactic in their campaigns. “Kneel-ins were staged not to protest unjust statues,” Haynes explains, “but to dramatize a moral query: Would African Americans and their white accomplices be permitted to enter space in which white Christians worshipped a God they claimed loved all persons” (14)?

The Memphis protests are the focus of the book's second part, “Contexts of a Kneel-In Movement.” From March through May in 1964, members of the NAACP's inter-collegiate group targeted the city's Second Presbyterian Church. Denied entrance each Sunday, these weekly encounters became high-profile performances of mutual resistance. In addition to blocking the entrance, SPC members began urging Southwestern College to discipline the white students participating in the protests. College administrators refused to act on this demand, a decision that likely led to thin fundraising. Defenders of SPC's segregation policy also criticized reformers within the broader Presbyterian community who advocated for civil rights. Rev. Carl Pritchett from Bethesda, Maryland was one such reformer. Passionate enough about the cause, he traveled to Memphis to join the kneel-ins.

Haynes titles the third part of his book, “Memories of a Kneel-in Movement.” Here, the author focuses attention on the people, places, and debates that framed the controversy. SPC's segregation policy came about in 1957 when the church planned to host a meeting for Presbyterian women. Organizers decided not to include African Americans, and from this, church leaders drafted a statement committing the church to segregation “in all of its endeavors” (106). By 1964 when the kneel-ins began, the policy had become entrenched. Moreover, upholding it became a battle of wills not only between the opposing sides but also inside the church. Younger members in particular did not see much use in defending the racial status quo. But the church's main powerbrokers were from the old guard, and they had shaped a narrative that cast protesters as troublemaking agitators who only wanted to disrupt their services. In response, black and white visitors developed a counter-narrative. “We feel that our presence at the church is itself an act of worship,” proclaimed one Southwestern student (128). This was a sentiment that echoed throughout the ranks of those involved in the protests.

“Aftermath of a Kneel-In Movement” is the book's concluding section, which starts in 1965 when SPC leaders abandoned their segregation policy. Opponents to this decision went on to found Independent Presbyterian Church. Since the split, SPC members have involved themselves in array of social programs in Memphis and world missions, as well as efforts to reach out to black churches. Haynes reasons that these ministries fulfill an underlying need to reconcile with the past, while also paving a way for a more inclusive future. At Independent Presbyterian Church, John Sartelle occupied the pulpit from 1977 to 2005. During his tenure, IPC scrapped its segregation policy, gained black members, launched urban ministries, and even started an AAU basketball team. While leaning toward diversity, when Sartelle's successor addressed interracial marriage in a 2006 sermon, the ghosts of the past haunted the ensuing debates. The new pastor's reportedly confrontational style added stress to the already stressful situation, and he resigned in 2007. Rather than ignoring the issue, the new leadership led IPC members into a period of “serious institutional self-examination,” which resulted in forceful rebukes of their founders' racial motives (242).

Any summary of The Last Segregated Hour will fail to capture the grace with which Haynes tells this story. From 2003 to 2012, the author collected 150 interviews from people involved in all sides of the kneel-ins. Chapters expertly deploy these voices alongside a rich assortment of primary sources that are all thoroughly contextualized within the civil rights historiography. Specialists in this area will benefit both from reading this book as well as using it as a model for future studies. Additionally, the author's lucid and compelling prose makes it suitable for undergraduate classrooms and general readers. Simply stated, this is an outstanding book that should be read and discussed by a wide audience.