Mark Herz: This is GBH’s Morning Edition. We’ve been bringing you stories surrounding the Boston bussing crisis now 50 years out this morning. GBH’S Paris Alston follows in the footsteps of history, taking in the stories that unfolded in the streets.

Paris Alston: Let’s take a walk down the block. And today, we’re starting on Beacon Hill. Here, tales of Paul Revere and other famous Americans abound. But we’re exploring a history that’s more hidden. This is a walking tour of the pivotal sites in Boston school desegregation crisis. At this stop, Vernita Carter-Weller is one of the speakers. In 1965, her father, the Reverend Vernon Carter, waged a freedom vigil here at 15 Beacon St., outside what was then the Boston School Committee offices. He was protesting segregation in public schools.

Vernita Carter-Weller: He decided that he was going to put on a placard and that he was going to walk out in front of the Boston School Committee building until the Racial Imbalance Act was passed. And he did that for 114 days and five hours.

Alston: Years later, the tumultuous enforcement of that law would become known as the city’s busing crisis. Today, 50 years later, the Boston Desegregation and Busing Initiative is mapping out the different sights of that movement. Places like City Hall Plaza, where a Black man was attacked by white protesters with the American flag. Another stop on a tour is the Freedom House in Dorchester. That’s where residents like Barbara Burke galvanized the community.

Barbara Burke: All of those Black people came together to protect our kids. That was our focus. That was our major focus. It wasn’t about busing. It was more about racism than anything else.

Alston: One place where that was glaringly obvious was South Boston. That neighborhood is also on this tour. Today, it’s filled with trendy bars, restaurants and young adults. But in the 1970s, neighbors lined 6th Street to protest the buses making their way to South Boston High School. Black children were on those buses. Longtime resident Bob Monahan recalls that tension.

Bob Monahan: This was ground zero. Protesters on one side, media on the other side. Most of the shots we see on the TV were taken from the bottom of the hill, so you can get Southie High in the background.

Alston: He says he wasn’t personally involved in any violence during the demonstrations. Today, his understanding of the busing crisis has changed. He’s sharing his perspective on the walking tour.

Monahan: A lot of people did leave. This becomes so unaffordable. Is that because of busing? I don’t know. Southie is such a, now attractive place.

Alston: Today, much of that local history is forgotten. Ron Bell, who is on the tour, is a civic engagement organizer with Memories of Busing.

Ron Bell: I feel awkward coming here. Back in the '70s, in the '80s, I couldn’t even come over here.

Alston: We run into David Wright, a dog walker in the neighborhood. I asked him if he knew the local history.

David Wright: I can say that a lot of the people that I deal with a real friendly. Today, you don’t you don’t feel that tension the same. But, you know, it’s still not too many Black people around here, right, at the end of the day.

Alston: While some things may never change, keeping the history of busing alive may be the very route to avoid repeating it.

Herz: That was GBH’s Paris Alston. You can also take this walk down the block with us on Instagram and via an interactive map at GBHNews.org. You’re listening to GBH’s Morning Edition.

Let’s take a walk down the block.

Today, we’re starting on Beacon Hill, where tales of Paul Revere and other famous Americans abound. But we’re exploring a history that’s more hidden. This is a walking tour of the pivotal sites of Boston’s school desegregation crisis.

Outside 15 Beacon St., Vernita Carter-Weller describes how in 1965, her father, the Rev. Vernon Carter, waged a freedom vigil in protest of segregation in public schools.

“He decided that he was going to put on a placard and that he was going to walk out in front of the Boston School Committee building until the Racial Imbalance Act was passed,” Carter-Weller said. “And he did that for 114 days and five hours.”

Years later, the tumultuous enforcement of that law would become known as the city’s busing crisis.

Today, 50 years later, the Boston Desegregation and Busing Initiative is mapping out the different sights of that movement. Places like City Hall Plaza, where a Black man was attacked by white protesters with the American flag.

Another stop on the tour is the Freedom House in Dorchester. That’s where residents like Barbara Burke galvanized the community.

“All of those Black people came together to protect our kids. That was our focus. That was our major focus. It wasn’t about busing. It was more about racism than anything else,” Burke said.

One place where that was glaringly obvious was South Boston. That neighborhood is also on this tour. Today, it’s filled with trendy bars, restaurants and young adults. But in the 1970s, neighbors lined 6th Street to protest the buses making their way to South Boston High School. Black children were on those buses.

Longtime resident Bob Monahan recalled that tension.

“This was ground zero,” Monahan said. “Protesters on one side, media on the other side. Most of the shots we see on the TV were taken from the bottom of the hill, so you can get Southie High in the background.”

Monahan said he wasn’t personally involved in any violence during the demonstrations. Today, his understanding of the busing crisis has changed. He shared his perspective on the walking tour.

“A lot of people did leave. [It’s] become so unaffordable. Is that because of busing? I don’t know. Southie is such a, now attractive place,” Monahan said.

Today, much of that local history is forgotten. Ron Bell, who was on the tour, is a civic engagement organizer who remembers busing.

“I feel awkward coming here. Back in the '70s, in the '80s, I couldn’t even come over here,” Bell said.

We ran into David Wright, a dog walker in the neighborhood. I asked him if he knew the local history.

“I can say that a lot of the people that I deal with are real friendly. Today, you don’t feel that tension the same. But, you know, it’s still not too many Black people around here, right, at the end of the day,” Wright said.

While some things may never change, keeping the history of busing alive may be the very route to avoid repeating it.