“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” William Faulkner
“The further backwards you look, the further forward you can see.” Winston Churchill
The Flowers Case in Brief
On the morning of July 16, 1996, four people were brutally murdered at a furniture store in the small Mississippi town of Winona. By 11:00 am everybody had heard the news: Bertha Tardy, the proprietor of Tardy ’s Furniture, had been killed execution style. Carmen Rigby, Tardy’s longtime bookkeeper, had suffered the same fate, as had hired hands, Bobo Stewart and Robert Golden. Golden was black, the other three victims were white. Six months later, Curtis Flowers, a young black Winona resident who had worked three days for Bertha Tardy, was arrested and charged with the brutal murder of four innocent people.
Thirteen years, $300,000 and five trials later, Mr. Flowers remains behind bars and the state has been unable to obtain a final conviction.
The first trial was held in Tupelo, MS in 1997 and the second trial was in Gulfport two years later. District Attorney Doug Evans was determined to convict Curtis Flowers four times: once for each cold-hearted murder. It was a risky strategy. To pull it off, Evans had to limit the evidence in each trial to a single victim and that was a virtual impossibility. Evans won guilty verdicts and death sentences in Tupelo and Gulfport, but both trials were overturned by the Mississippi Supreme Court.
In February of 2004, Curtis Flowers was found guilty, yet again, on four murder counts. The trial was held in Winona, the county seat of Montgomery County. The Winona Times ran a special edition featuring a large head shot of Flowers beside graphic pictures from the murder scene. Victims were shown lying in their own blood. Several residents were outraged by the pictorial spread and wrote angry letters to publisher, Dale Gerstenlager. Gerstenlager responded that, apart from the photographs, readers couldn’t appreciate what a terrible deed Flowers had done.
The verdict would not stand. According to former Supreme Court Justice Oliver Diaz, “We reversed because the jury selection process ended up not being fair. Every challenge the state had was used against African Americans and the only African American that was seated was when the state ran out of challenges and could not challenge anymore and one was seated.”
Doug Evans knew he would have a hard time getting a conviction in Winona if even a single African American was seated on the jury. In a county that is half black, a jury with eleven white jurors couldn’t be produced legally, so Evans broke the law.
It was an act of desperation. In Winona’s white community, Flowers’ guilt is a no-brainer–as obvious as the sun in a clear blue sky.
Black jurors have been much harder to convince.
The case against Flowers is circumstantial. He can’t produce a convincing alibi for his activities the morning of the murders. A gunshot residue test taken three hours after the murders found a single micron of residue on the web of his right thumb. But the real clincher was thebloody footprint found at the scene of the crime. Tests prove it was made by a size 10.5 Grant Hill Fila tennis shoe, and a box for precisely that shoe was found in the dresser drawer of the girlfriend Flower’s was living with. Granted, there were no shoes in the box (it was filled with hair ribbons), but the shoe box in the dresser has been the heart of the state’s case.
Doug Evans had the shoe box evidence nailed down within a few weeks of the murders, but Flowers wasn’t arrested until January of 1997, half a year later. In the interim, Evans and his invgestigator, John Johnson, cobbled together a list of witnesses who could trace Flowers’ movements on that fatal morning.
The state’s theory of the crime is relatively simple. Curtis Flowers was angry because Bertha Flowers wanted to deduct $400 worth of damaged batteries from his paycheck. Set on revenge, Flowers rose early on the morning of the crime and walked to the Angelica garment factory, five-to-ten minutes from his home. There, shortly after 7:00 am, Flowers stole a handgun from the car of his uncle, Doyle Simpson. Flowers returned home for a brief period. Then, just after 9:00 am, he walked to the Tardy’s furniture store, killed four people in cold blood, stole $400 from the cash register, ditched the gun, ran home, disposed of his clothes and the Grant Hill Filas he was wearing and stuck the $400 in the headboard of his girlfriend’s bed.
It took six months to find witnesses who could place Flowers at the Angelica factory and along the various routes the state believed he traveled on the day of the crime.
On the surface, this looks like an airtight case, and it has generally been reported as such (to the extent it has been reported at all). But at Flowers’ fourth trial in December of 2007, all five black jurors voted to acquit while all seven white jurors voted to convict.
A frustrated Doug Evans returned to the Montgomery County courthouse in Winona less than a year later for the fifth trial. Three black jurors were selected, but they were all solidly middle class and well-connected to the white community. Two of the black jurors were willing to trade a guilty verdict for a life sentence. But James Bibbs, a retired Winona school teacher, hung the jury. Judge Joey Loper embodied the outrage of Winona’s white community. He had Bibbs dragged into the courtroom. Loper told the recalitrant juror that he had lied to get on the jury and demanded that DA Evans file perjury charges. Loper then insisted that Evans lobby other Mississippi prosecutors in support of a law that would allow the state to file motions for a change of venue (something only defense attorneys could do).
A bill giving prosecutors the right to call a jury from a multi-county district in cases that went to trial three times without a final conviction was supported by state senator Lydia Chassaniol and state representative Bobby Howell. The bill was introduced in the 2009 legislative session and sailed through the Senate without serious opposition. In the House, however, it was killed in committee by the African American chairman of the house judiciary committee.
The same bill is currently being debated in the Mississippi Legislature.
Meanwhile, Judge Loper and DA Evans were forced to recuse themselves from the case against James Bibbs. The Mississippi Attorney General’s took over the case and promptly dropped the charges due to a lack of evidence.
A sixth trial is scheduled for June 7, 2010. This time, the world will be watching.
A brief primer in wrongful conviction: the case of Curtis Flowers
Why are we so convinced that Curtis Flowers is innocent? Two reasons: the state’s theory of the crime doesn’t fit the evidence, and the state manufactured phony evidence by manipulating, badgering and bribing witnesses.
The gun that ended the lives of Bertha Tardy, Carmen Rigby, Bobo Stewart and Robert Golden belonged to Doyle Simpson. All are agreed on that point. Simpson made two visits to his car on the morning of the crime and reported that his gun had been stolen from a locked glove compartment shortly before the crime was committed. Catherine Snow, one of Simpson’s co-workers, claims she saw Curtis Flowers leaning against Simpson’s car at 7:30 that morning.
But is Doyle Simpson credible under oath? When first interviewed, he told investigators that he bought the weapon from his brother Robert. When that story fell apart, Simpson testified that he bought the gun from a friend named “Ike”. Simpson calls Ike a good friend but doesn’t know his last name.
The murder weapon belonged to Doyle Simpson–that much seems clear. But was the gun in the glove compartment of Simpson’s car the morning of the murders?
Doyle Simpson is no stranger to the streets. He has used drugs and has probably been involved in the drug trade. Back in the day, Simpson’s throat was slit and his body was unceremoniously deposited in a tree outside New Orleans. Miraculously, the Winona hustler survived. But whoever tried to kill him had no regard for human life and dignity. Much like the person who pulled the trigger five times in the Tardy Furniture Store.
On the witness stand, Doyle Simpson has the demeanor of a scared rabbit. Did he make his gun available to some very bad people who made him an offer he couldn’t refuse? In the most recent trial, in September, 2008, Simpson made an interesting slip. Asked to specify when he put the gun in his car, Simpson replied, “The day before they stole it.”
Who, we are left to wonder, are “they”.
Prosecutors argue that Curtis Flowers murdered Bertha Tardy because she had docked $82 from his pay to cover the cost of damaged lawn mower batteries. Flowers worked at the furniture store for three days just prior to the July 4th weekend in 1996. When Curtis didn’t return to work after the holiday and when he eventually contacted Ms. Tardy he was informed that he had been replaced. Prosecutor Doug Evans claims this provided Flowers with a sufficient motive for the most vicious murder in Winona history.
Finally, Curtis Flowers can’t provide an iron clad alibi for the morning of the murder. He maintains that, apart from a brief visit to his sister’s home, he spent most of the fateful morning alone at home.
This sounds like a weak circumstantial case until you start asking hard questions. Then it falls apart altogether.
Everyone agrees that Bertha Tardy was the killer’s primary target and that the other three victims were murdered in an attempt to eliminate witnesses. All four victims were killed execution style with a bullet to the back of the head fired at relatively short range. Three of the victims were found lying side-by-side.
If Ms. Tardy was killed first, how could a single gunman keep the witnesses from fleeing? The evidence suggests the work of two gunmen: a single shooter and an accomplice.
The murders were methodical and horribly efficient: three of the victims died from a single shot. The Tardy murders (as they are now called) were not the fruit of blind rage. For practical and psychological reasons, only an experienced professional with a callous disregard for human life could pull off a crime like this, and no one in Winona (certainly not Curtis Flowers) fits that profile.
No employer-employee disagreement in Winona history ever spiraled into murder; what made July 16th, 1996 any different? If Curtis Flowers entered the store engulfed in homicidal rage how could he work with such frightful efficiency?
There is general agreement that the murder weapon was stolen from Doyle Simpson’s glove compartment. But the state has never been able to explain how Curtis Flowers could have known there was a gun in his uncle’s locked glove compartment unless Doyle told him? Simpson usually kept the gun at his mother’s home.
Questioned the day of the murder, Catherine Snow reported seeing a stranger leaning against Doyle’s car two hours before the likely time of the Tardy murders. Once it was common knowledge in the community that Flowers was the prime suspect, Ms. Snow was suddenly able to put a face to the man by the car. This is particularly odd considering that Snow knew Curtis Flowers from having seen him singing with a gospel group at her church.
No one could have known there was a gun in Doyle Simpson’s glove compartment unless Doyle himself told them were to look. A local gun points to a local killer, and an experienced killer from outside Winona would have valued such a weapon. A streetwise hustler with addiction issues, Doyle Simpson had friends in low places.
Why then did a test reveal a single micron of gun powder residue on the defendant’s right thumb? Gun powder residue is ubiquitous in police cars and police stations and Flowers had been in both environments immediately prior to the test. Doyle Simpson was interviewed as soon as Flowers left the building but neither he nor any other suspect was tested for gunpowder residue. This suggests that investigators had marked Flowers as the killer three hours after the crime and were studiously ignoring evidence pointing in any other direction.
A single micron of residue is the tiniest fragment that exists in nature. If Flowers had washed his hands before the interview no residue could have survived—the stuff is that ephemeral. But if Flowers was the killer, his entire body would have been bathed in residue. A single micron of residue suggests the kind of incidental contact that is inevitable in a police car or a police station.
The police have a bloody footprint at the crime scene, but no bloody shoe. They recovered a shoebox full of Christmas ribbons from a girlfriend’s closet. Like the footprint, the box was for size 10.5 shoe, America’s most popular men’s shoe size. There would have been nothing remarkable about Curtis Flowers owning a pair of Grant Hill Fila running shoes, of course; they were the hottest selling shoe in the nation at the time. But his girlfriend, Connie Moore, insists she bought the shoes for an adolescent son and the son has confirmed her story.
Speculation on the subject of Grant Hill sneakers is of academic interest. The footprint discovered at the Tardy Furniture store wasn’t left by the killers. The state suggests that approximately $300 was taken from the cash register near where three of the bodies were discovered. If so, one of the victims was probably forced to hand over the money before being killed. The killers didn’t step in the blood because, while they were at the scene of the crime, there was little blood to step in.
Sam Jones, an elderly black gentleman who occasionally helped out at Tardy Furniture, was the first person to arrive at the crime scene. Sam is now dead, but at the first trial he testified that he saw no trail of bloody footprints when he first observed the crime scene—and he was in the building between five and eight minutes. Jones then hurried off to a hardware store where he called 911 and waited for a police car to arrive at the scene.
Porky Collins testified at two trials prior to his death. Collins had a Wal-Mart receipt showing that he left the store at 9:43, about the same time Sam Jones arrived at Tardy’s Furniture. Collins then drove three miles to a mechanics shop, made a brief stop at home, then drove by Tardy’s Furniture on his way to the cleaners. By this time, Sam Jones had left the furniture store and was still waiting for the police to arrive.
As Collins passed Tardy’s he saw two black men engaged in a passionate argument. One man had his hands on the hood of a brown car; the other was standing beside the car making dramatic hand gestures. Collins only got the brief glimpse of one man’s eyes as he passed.
Concerned by what he had seen, Porky Collins made the block and when he returned to the scene the two men were crossing the street on foot. Collins testified that he didn’t know where the men went next.
For the most part, Porky Collins makes a convincing witness. Any mistakes he made can be laid at the feet of law enforcement. Although he shared his story with the police on the day of the crime, Collins wasn’t shown a photo array for five weeks. He was showing an interest in one of first six pictures he was shown when an officer asked, “Do you know Doyle Simpson?” This comment cued Collins that he had the wrong man. Shown a second array of pictures, Collins’ finger wandered to a photo where the person’s head was much bigger than the heads in the other pictures. “Do you know Curtis Flowers?” an officer asked. This told Collins he had the right man. By August 24th it was common knowledge in Winona that Flowers was the state’s prime suspect.
Although Collins’ identification of Flowers can’t be taken seriously, the central thrust of his testimony should be taken seriously. Collins saw two men arguing in front of Tardy’s just after Sam Jones had left the building. If either man was involved in the crime it is unlikely that they would be ostentatiously drawing attention to themselves. It is more likely that they arrived at Tardy’s Furniture store just after Sam Jones disappeared into the hardware store. The lights inside Tardy’s were on, the door was unlocked, and Jones’ truck was parked on the street outside—the store appeared open for business. If the two men wandered inside they could easily have stepped in the steadily-growing pool of blood on the floor.
The fact that Sam Jones saw no blood track when he first entered the store and that he and Police Chief Johnny Hargrove immediately spied bloody footprints shortly after 10:21 makes this scenario probable.
This explains the dispute Collins witnessed. One man, believing they were the first to encounter a crime scene, wanted to file a report with the police. The second man protested that a black man with the slightest connection to the scene would immediately become a suspect. This argument prevailed and the two men left the scene.
This reconstruction is hypothetical, of course, but it is the only scenario that fits all the known facts. The state’s theory, by comparison, can’t account for any of the facts I have noted.
Prosecutor Doug Evans has a love-hate relationship with Porky Collins’ testimony. With considerable coaching from law enforcement, Collins placed Curtis Flowers at the scene of the crime even though the events he witnessed transpired at least half an hour (and as much as an hour) after the killings took place and involved a second person the state can’t account for.
As an ex-employee, Curtis Flowers knew that Tardy Furniture has a back entrance. If he were the murderer he certainly wouldn’t have made a spectacle of himself at the murder scene.
There has never been any room in the state’s theory of the crime for an accomplice. The state has an impressive stable of eyewitnesses, but they all report seeing Curtis Flowers walking alone.
Although Sam Jones, Porky Collins and Catherine Snow talked to the police the day of the murder, none of the other witnesses didn’t recall seeing Curtis Flowers on the morning of the murder until a $30,000 reward appeared on the black side of town.
Few of the states witnesses came forward voluntarily even then. I have interviewed several people who were picked up by police officers, taken to police stations in Winona or nearby Greenwood and enticed with the $30,000 reward. They were also threatened with dire legal consequences if they refused to cooperate with the investigation. This carrot and stick approach, applied over the six-month period between Flowers initial interview and his arrest in early 1997, produced a string of “weak-minded black folk” (as one local pastor described them) who can’t get their story straight.
Curtis Flowers walked to work at Tardy’s on three occasions two weeks before the crime and some or all of the witnesses may have seen him pass on his way to work. But could they remember, weeks and even months later, that they had seen Curtis on the morning of the Tardy murders?
This explains why the physical descriptions presented by the various witnesses fail to overlap at a single point. Memory is fragile of course, and we should expect some discrepancies in testimony. But when one witness has Curtis wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt, the next has him in dress clothes, and a third has him decked out in a jogging outfit the state has a problem. Either these folks are describing actual sightings that took place on different days or they are lying. The evidence suggests we are dealing with a bit of both.
Mary Fleming, the woman who says she saw Curtis walking in the direction of Tardy’s, gave her statement seven months after the crime. Her Curtis was wearing a gray jacket, white shirt and brown pants. Mary Fleming is the aunt of Clemmie Fleming, a young woman who claims she saw Curtis Flowers running away from Tardy furniture on the morning of the crime. Clemmie has admitted to friends and family members (one of whom has an audio tape) that her testimony is a complete fabrication. The elderly man who was driving Clemmie around town that morning grudgingly corroborated her story at the first trial. But he surprised the state at the second trial by telling the jury he had been bullied into false testimony at the first trial and wanted to set the record straight. In his amended testimony he saw a man (who looked nothing like Curtis Flowers) running before picking Clemmie up at her home and never drove by Tardy’s.
And then there is Patricia Hallmon Sullivan, the woman who says she saw Curtis Flowers leaving his home at 7:30 the morning of July 16th. Ms. Sullivan’s brother, Odell Hallmon, says he talked Patricia into concocting a Curtis Flowers story so they could split the $30,000 reward. Odell Hallmon put this admission in letter to Lola Flowers (the mother of the defendant) and defense attorney Andre de Gruy—two people who had nothing to give him in exchange. Then, realizing how unwise it is for prisoners doing hard labor at the notorious Parchman prison plantation to get on the wrong side of the prosecution, Hallmon changed his story. He only wrote the letters, he now says, because Curtis Flowers promised to supply him with free cigarettes. What kind of prosecutor would use the testimony of a witness who had publicly surrendered the last shred of credibility?
A prosecutor who is rapidly running out of options.
At the first trial, the state produced two jailhouse snitches who testified that they had heard Curtis Flowers confess to the Tardy murders. These witnesses didn’t appear at subsequent trials. Since Doug Evans uses dubious witnesses like Odell Hallmon, the disappearance of the jailhouse snitches remains a mystery.
Under enormous pressure to produce an indictment, Doug Evans and investigator John Johnson latched onto the first suspect who lacked an airtight alibi. Unable to build a solid case against this man, Evans and Johnson used threats, bribes and flagrant manipulation to shape testimony around Flowers. The Winona newspaper reveals that Evans and Johnson were the targets of harsh criticism when Curtis Flowers was finally arrested in early 1997.
A dispassionate review of the available evidence suggests the following conclusions:
• Bertha Tardy was the victim of a professional hit
• Two assailants were involved
• Neither man was from Winona
• Doyle Simpson made his gun available to the killers
• Simpson knows who took his gun but may not know the identity of the killers
• The bloody footprint wasn’t left by the killers
Therefore, the state of Mississippi should release Curtis Flowers to the free world and appoint an independent investigator to conduct a fresh and unbiased investigation.
But how did a case this outrageous ever go to trial five times? The answer lies in the history of Montgomery County.
Curtis Flowers and the cruel legacy of Montgomery County

We dare not bury the past while the past buries the innocent.
In July, 1996, four people were killed execution style at a Montgomery County furniture store: owner Bertha Tardy, bookkeeper Carmen Rigby, and two hired men, Bobo Stewart and Robert Golden. Golden was black, the other three victims were white. Six months later, Curtis Flowers, a young black Winona resident who had worked three days for Bertha Tardy, was arrested and charged with the brutal murder of four innocent people. Thirteen years, $300,000 and five trials later, Mr. Flowers remains behind bars and the state has been unable to obtain a final conviction.
No capital defendant in American history has ever gone to trial six times on the same facts. Curtis Flowers of Winona, Mississippi will soon be the first.
Winona is county seat of Montgomery County, a section of Mississippi that periodically produces startling narratives.
In 1937, two black Montgomery County bootleggers, Roosevelt Townes and Bootjack McDaniels, were accused of murdering and robbing a local merchant. The two men entered not guilty pleas at their arraignment and were being escorted back to the county jail in Winona when they were released into the custody of a large white mob. Townes and McDaniels were driven up the road to a field near Duck Hill where they were tied to trees and surrounded by brushwood. As a crowd of 500 looked on, the two men were tortured with blowtorches. Ears and fingers melted under the intense heat before the victims relented. They were then shot to death and their bodies burned. Loved ones were not allowed to remove the charred remains for weeks after the event.
The Duck Hill lynchings were reported by the Associated Press and featured in TIME magazine. After a particularly grisly account was read from the floor of Congress, the House passed the first anti-lynching law in American history. A few weeks later, passions having cooled, southern senators used the filibuster to kill the anti-lynching bill.
In 1960, Montgomery County was back in the news when Sheriff Lawrence King was accused of hiring two black men to murder his deputy, William L. Kelly. King had reportedly been sleeping with his deputy’s wife. When all three defendants were charged with murder, former Mississippi governor James P. Coleman stepped forward to represent the white defendant. All three defendants received life sentences and eventually died in Parchman prison.
Although Montgomery County is 45% black, not a single African American was registered to vote in 1963. The civil rights movement arrived in the county in June of that year, when Fannie Lou Hamer, Annell Ponder and several other black women were refused service at the white restaurant at the Winona bus station. Arrested by Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridge, his deputies, and a state trooper, the four women were beaten and sexually humiliated at the county jail. Fannie Lou Hamer was pummeled with a blackjack wielded by two black inmates who had been threatened with additional charges if they didn’t cooperate and rewarded with corn whiskey when they did.
When Fannie Lou Hamer was finally released from the Montgomery County Jail she had to be hospitalized for a full month and never fully recovered. A year later, Hamer related the story of her brutal encounter with Montgomery County law enforcement before the credentials committee at the 1964 Democratic Conviction in Atlantic City. Her testimony aired on all three national television stations and sparked outrage.
The men responsible for torturing Fannie Lou Hamer and her friends had to be tried in federal court when every prosecutor in the State of Mississippi refused to seek an indictment. After a cursory federal trial in which the judge referred to the victims as socialist agitators and praised the defendants as upstanding public servants, a jury returned not guilty verdicts.
But isn’t there a statute of limitations on stigma? With the dawning of the 21st century, hadn’t Montgomery County outlived its reputation for racial injustice?
So it appeared. Then a federal census revealed that African Americans comprised over 50% of the voting population of the Montgomery County town of Kilmichael. The political grapevine suggested that a strong black candidate was running for mayor and at least three black candidates were eyeing seats on the city council. The white mayor and all-white council resolved the problem by cancelling the 2001 election.
Kilmichael’s cancelled election was vetoed by the Department of Justice. Five years later, when the Voting Rights Act of 1965 came up for ratification, Senator Ted Kennedy used Kilmichael’s election-that-wasn’t to argue that Mississippi still needed federal elections oversight.
In 1996 and 1997, Curtis Flowers was convicted of murder by juries in Tupelo and Gulfport, but the convictions were vacated by the Mississippi Supreme Court because of blatant prosecutorial misconduct.
In 2004, Flowers went to trial before an all-white jury at the Montgomery County courthouse in Winona. The conviction was overturned when the Supreme Court ruled that prosecutor Doug Evans had removed blacks from the jury for reasons that were not race-neutral.
In 2007, at the conclusion of Curtis Flowers’ fourth trial, a jury of five blacks and seven whites retired to deliberate. All seven white jurors voted to convict; all five black jurors voted to acquit.
There were three black and nine white jurors when Curtis Flowers went to trial for the fifth time in September of 2008. According to post-trial interviews, two of the black jurors were willing to vote guilty if the white jurors settled for a life sentence. Convinced that Flowers was innocent, a retired school teacher named James Bibbs hung the jury.
At the conclusion of the fifth trial, Judge Joseph Loper had two requests for District Attorney Doug Evans: he wanted James Bibbs tried for perjury and he wanted the Mississippi legislature to pass a law allowing Doug Evans to choose a jury from an expanded seven-county judicial district.
In the spring of 2009, Senator Lydia Chassaniol successfully guided this bill through the Mississippi Senate, but the House bill, sponsored by Representative Bobby Howell of Kilmichael, was essentially vetoed by the black chairman of the House Judiciary Committee.
As DA Doug Evans prepared to take Flowers to trial for an unprecedented sixth time, Montgomery County danced back into the media spotlight. State Senator Lydia Chassaniol gave a spirited pep talk to 2009 annual conference of the radically racist Council of Conservative Citizens, (the successor to the White Citizen’s Councils). Chassaniol admitted that she belonged to the CCC but didn’t see why that made her a racist. She appeared to be sincere.
Representative Bobby Howell, the Montgomery County Republican who carried the “Flowers Bill” in the state house, is one of the Council of Conservative Citizen’s best friends in the Mississippi Legislature.
Is an innocent man being framed in Montgomery County Mississippi; or has the strength of the prosecution’s case rendered history irrelevant?
Read on . . .
A Nice Girl Like You . . .
This is the first in a series of posts about the tragedy that has divided a Mississippi town.
Lydia Chassaniol is in trouble. How much trouble remains to be seen, but the Mississippi State Senator (R-Winona) has the regional blogosphere in an uproar.
Remember the mid-to-late 1990s when prominent Mississippi politicians like Bob Barr and Trent Lott got too cozy with the Council of Conservative Citizens? That’s the white separatist hate group the New York Times describes as having “a thinly-veiled white supremacist agenda”. You can buy a “white pride” T-shirt on the CCC website and read headlines like: “The whole world treats Obama as a joke!” and “Mass immigration equals white genocide.”
The CCC platform praises America’s “European” heritage and condemns “mixture of the races”. CCC leaders still like to refer to ”Martin Looter Coon” and have described African Americans as “a retrograde species of humanity”. According to Ward Schaefer of the Jackson Free Press, “Columnists in the CofCC’s newsletter have hyperventilated that non-white immigration to the U.S. was transforming the country into a ’slimy brown mass of glop.’”
You get the picture.
Either Barr and Lott didn’t realize what sort of a group they were addressing or they didn’t care. But when the true nature of the CCC became public knowledge it was mea culpa time. In the halcyon days of the CCC Mississippi politicians were lining up to speak at events like the yearly Blackhawk political rally that raises money for segregated private schools. No more. Although the election of America’s first black president has reversed a longstanding decline in membership, the CCC is but a shadow of its former self. The Trent Lott scandal had a lot to do with that.
Which explains why Mississippi residents (Democrat, Republican and Libertarian) were shocked to learn that Lydia Chassaniol, a close ally of Governor Haley Barbour, had delivered a red meat speech to the annual meeting of the CCC in Jackson Mississippi in late June. It is reported that Chassaniol’s oration on “Cultural Heritage in Mississippi” used recent tributes to Michael Jackson “a pedophile who’s being celebrated” as evidence that the U.S. is in decline. She indicated that the government wants to “take from those who have and give to those who don’t want to work for it.” And she worried that the 2010 national census might hand over government “to the radical left.”
According to Heidi Beirich of the Southern Poverty Law Center’s Hatewatch, “Chassaniol ended her talk by encouraging her listeners to embrace their southern heritage. Describing the CCC as “lone voices crying in the wilderness,” Chassaniol assured her audience that “Seeing all of you here today gives me hope.”
Contacted by Beirich, the Senator freely admitted that she is a card carrying member of the Council of Conservative Citizens but denied being a racist.
Alonzo Lewis, a black pastor from Carroll County (in Chassaniol’s district) has publicly taken his Senator to task. “I wouldn’t associate myself with any hate group,” Lewis said. “For someone to do that sends a message to me that they somewhat or totally agree with their agenda.”
Filling out a CCC membership card gives the same impression.
Not everyone is upset with the Senator, however. Mississippi Republican Party Chairman Brad White admits that he wouldn’t sign up to speak at a CCC event, but only because he doesn’t need the flack. White refuses to criticize his colleague.
The Greenwood Commonwealth is the only Mississippi newspaper to run an article on a controversy that is thus far limited to well-travelled blogs and independent publications like the Jackson Free Press. The Commonwealth article mentions that Chassional had addressed the CCC, notes that the move is controversial and relates the woes that have befallen other Mississippi politicians associated with the group.
The dozens of comments from Greenwood residents that follow the article are generally supportive.
” We, the residents of North Greenwood, need a branch of CCC,” one reader said. ”We could meet at the Legion hut or the Confederate memorial building and I don’t care if they do support racist views, so does the Greenwood voters league along with the ACLU and the black panthers and the NAACP, the Rainbow Coalation, PUSH, the black caucus, the black mayors conference,the black rodeo, the million man march and numerous other black only organizations. It is time that the whites in this area got up off their lazy backsides and stood up for themselves and their heritage.”
Several other readers compared the CCC to the Greenwood Voters League suggesting that a pro-white organization is no more reprehensible than a pro-black group. The fact that the Greenwood Voters League was created in the 1960s to protect prospective black voters from white retaliation doesn’t seem to register.
Greenwood is just down the road from Winona, Ms. Chassaniol’s hometown. The Senator is in her mid-fifties, which means she was raised in a thoroughly Jim Crow environment. In my next post I will focus on recent events in Winona that make Miss Lydia’s affiliations understandable.
A House Divided
In fairness, Senator Chassaniol isn’t the only fan of the Council of Concervative Citizens in the Mississippi Legislature. Bobby Howell, the Republican State Representative from Kilmichael (another small town in Montgomery County) also has close ties with the organization. Long after Lott and Barr retreated from the group, Bobby Howell was happily speaking at their conferences and attending the annual Blackhawk event supporting segregated private schools (Blackhawkis just down the road from both Winona and Kilmichael).
Senator Chassaniol and Representative Howell did the heavy lifting for a bill that was created to break a legal logjam in Montgomery County. On July 16, 1996, between 9:00 and 10:00 a.m, four people were gunned down execution-style in Winona’s Tardy furniture store: Bertha Tardy, 59, and three employees, Carmen Rigby, 45, Derrick “Bobo” Stewart, 16, and Robert Golden, 42.
Six months elapsed with no arrest and local residents were growing restive. Then the police arrested a suspect. The theory was that Curtis Flowers, a young man who had worked less than a week for Bertha Tardy, was so upset that $82 had been deducted from his paycheck (to cover damaged merchandise) that he was driven to the most heinous crime in the history of Montgomery County.

The case against Curtis Flowers is paper thin. There is no murder weapon, no DNA, no fingerprints and no one witnessed the crime. Flowers, a model prisoner, has always maintained his innocence. All the prosecution can muster is some weak physical evidence and reams of ambiguous testimony. Credible witnesses don’t implicate Flowers and the folks who say they saw the prime suspect in the vicinity of the
furniture store are singularly unconvincing. But the State’s has been enough to convince white jurors.
Whoever pulled the trigger in the Tardy Furniture store is a monster. Curtis Flowers is either guilty as charged or he is an innocent victim of wrongful prosecution. White folks have no doubt that Curtis is the gunman. Black folks, for the most part, are unconvinced. Curtis Flowers earned a reputation as a goodnatured, fun-loving gospel singer. Those who know him best doubt he could pull off a premeditated murder even if he wanted to–and they can’t imagine him wanting to. Not Curtis.
The State’s case against Flowers can be compared to Colin Powell’s presentation at the United Nations. None of the evidence is particularly convincing, but there’s lots of it. Americans living in the emotional wake of 9-11 were desperate for justice. We wanted to be convinced that our true enemy could be identified, crushed on the field of battle and brought to justice. In retrospect, Powell’s “evidence” looks silly; but it was enough to convince a public desperate to believe.
The same can be said of the case against Curtis Flowers. Reading through back issues of the Winona Times you encounter the implied argument that Flowers must be guilty because the crime was really, really awful. The thought that we may never know who to blame for “the Tardy murders” is simply unacceptable.
The first two Tardy trials ended with convictions and death sentences. But the Mississippi Supreme Court reversed both convictions due to prosecutorial misconduct. A third conviction was reversed when defense counsel was able to show that District Attorney Doug Evans was illegally keeping black residents off the jury.
The fourth trial came as a dreadful shock to the white community: five black jurors returned not guilty verdicts while seven white jurors voted to convict. The town, it seemed, was utterly divided along racial lines.
Hopes were high during the fifth trial (held in September of 2008) that a breakthrough was
possible. There were three black people on the jury, but one was a businessman who wrote a column in the Winona Times and maintained good relations with the white community, one had a background in law enforcement and the third was a retired school teacher. None of the three was close to the Flower family.
It almost worked. Post-trial interviews suggest that two of the black jurors were willing to convict if the white jurors would agree to a life sentence. But James Bibbs, the retired school teacher, wasn’t having it. He didn’t think the State had proved its case and he refused to budge.
At the close of trial, James Bibbs was called into the courtroom and harangued by Judge Joseph (”Joey”) Loper. To hear the judge tell it, Bibbs had lied his way onto the jury with the express purpose of hanging the jury. He had raised his hand in open court and sworn that he could be impartial when, in truth, his mind was made up from the beginning.

Furthermore, Loper said, Bibbs had told other jurors that he had spent the day of the murders visiting with friends at a lawnmower shop behind the Tardy Furniture store. During trial, police officers testified that they had canvassed the neighborhood the day of the crime. Bibbs allegedly told his fellow jurors that if that he didn’t see any officers in the area.
According to Loper and DA Doug Evans, Bibbs perjured himself when he claimed during voir dire that he had no special knowledge about the case other than what he had gleaned from media reports.
Ray Carter, Curtis Flowers’ lead attorney, was so incensed by the judge’s verbal assault that he attempted to leave the courtroom. Carter feared he might say something he would regret. Judge Loper instructed the baillif to restrain Carter. The defense attorney was dragged back to the front of the courtroom while the Judge continued his rant.
When it was over, James Bibbs was escorted from the courtroom in handcuffs. (An alternate on the jury was charged with perjury when evidence emerged suggesting that she had visited Curtis Flowers in prison and talked to him on the phone. The evidence in this case appears to be solid).
According to Lydia Chassaniol, the indictment of James Bibbs proves that the jury pool in Montgomery County is hopelessly tainted. ”We’re looking for some remedy,” Chassaniol told reporters. “At the last (Flowers) trial, two jurors were indicted for perjury. Now, does that sound like a tainted jury pool?”
The Senator assured the Associated Press that “It just has to be awful for the families of the victims. Each time a trial is held, they have to relive the horror of loved ones being murdered. But I would think that the defendant’s family would want some relief, too. It’s got to be just as hard on them.”
Mississippi residents have a constitutional right to be tried in their home county. Defense counsel can request a change of venue; the State cannot. According to the bill Chassaniol crafted, in capital cases that have gone to trial over three times, district attorneys would be allowed to pick a jury from the judicial district instead of the county. In Mississippi history, only the Flowers case meets this standard.
If the bill had passed, DA Evans would have been able to pick a jury from a district that bumps up against Morgan Freeman’s hometown of Charleston to the Northwest and Neshoba County (of Mississippi Burning fame) to the southeast. A great place to pick an all-white jury sure to bring closure to the Flowers case and an end to Winona’s heartache.
Chassaniol’s bill passed the Senate without great difficulty. But the House version sponsored by Bobby Howell was killed by black Democratic judiciary chair Edward Blackmon.
That means a sixth trial for Curtis Flowers (the date hasn’t been set) and another year of racial polarization.
Winona’s white community don’t understand why black jurors can’t see the strength of the State’s case against Flowers. From the white side of the street it all looks so simple. But when you see politicians like Lydia Chassanioland Bobby Howell consorting with the Council of Conservative Citizens the objectivity issue appears in a different light.
James Bibbs goes to trial in Yazoo, Mississippi on July 28th. Friends of Justice will be there. In my next post I will consider the Bibbs case from the perspective of defense attorney Rob McDuff.
Supporters of Flowers Bill try again
Mississippi State Representative Bobby Howell will be re-introducing a bill designed to convict Curtis Flowers of Winona. A recent article in the Greenwood Commonwealth lays out the basic facts surrounding the case: “Curtis Giovanni Flowers has been tried five times for murder in a 1996 quadruple homicide at Tardy Furniture in Winona with every trial being overturned on appeal or ending in a hung jury. Howell said he doesn’t think Montgomery County — with a population of about 12,000 — can field a jury of people who don’t already know about the case.”
This is nonsense and Howell knows it. The challenge isn’t to seat a jury; that can be done with no difficulty at all. The trick is to seat a jury with lots of white people and few black jurors. The Mississippi Supreme Court has already rebuked the Grenada DA for attempting, illegally, to keep blacks off the jury in the third Flowers trial. Interviewed by Tom Mangold of the British Broadcasting Corporation, former Supreme Court Judge Oliver Diaz put it this way: “We reversed because the jury selection process ended up not being fair. Every challenge the state had was used against African Americans and the only African American that was seated was when the state ran out of challenges and could not challenge anymore and one was seated.”
But it doesn’t end there. Black jurors are much more likely to convict Flowers if they know nothing about his reputation in Montgomery County’s black community. This is a very weak case–far weaker, in fact, than is generally recognized (more on that later). The State’s case is built on largely meaningless physical evidence and a string of hopelessly compromised eyewitnesses who “remembered” seeing Flowers in the vicinity of the crime after investigators offered them a $30,000 reward. Whoever killed four people at the Tardy furniture store in 1996 is a monster–everyone agrees on that point. But that’s just the problem for those who know anything about the defendant: he is an easy-going guy with a love of gospel music. Some people are capable of killing four people over a minor salary dispute, but black Winona residents have a hard time believing that Curtis Flowers is one of them.
If black jurors must be on the jury (and Doug Evans can’t keep them off without resorting to illegal tactics) the prosecution wants them to know as little about the defendant as possible. Thus far, the media (to the extent it has shown an interest in the issue at all) has been swallowing arguments advanced by Mr. Evans, Representative Bobby Howell and State Senator Lydia Chassaniol. All three have close links to the racist Council of Conservative Citizens, an organization that, until recently, dominated the political life of the region. In his report on the Flowers case, BBC reporter Tom Mangold interviewed a handful of CCC leaders. I am pasting the relevant portion of the “Mississippi Smoldering” story so you can get a feel for the organization.
REPORTER: A run up north on Interstate 55 takes me to Grenada to meet members of the Council of Conservative Citizens. Their membership is secret, their influence patchy at best—they represent the rump of the good ole boys from the rural South, all white to the last man. They have all the predictable hate objects, but they do love Caucasian Christians—and our British National Party. We meet half a dozen of them in a modest motel off the Interstate, where they have reserved a back room for the encounter, and decorated it with a huge Confederate flag. I spoke to Brian Pace, the 25-year-old Field Organizer and Bill Lord, a former undertaker and founding member of the Council.
REPORTER: Do you believe that the white race is threatened in the U.S. by non-white immigration?
BILL LORD: Well it has already been said that in the next 15 years we will be a minority in this country. Each race has its own culture. It is alright for them to practice theirs but they should not take ours away from us. It is a threat and we are probably the most discriminated race in the country.
REPORTER: Is the council then a racist body?
BILL LORD: What you term racist . . . if you mean by racist being proud of your heritage and proud of where you’re from, then I plead guilty . . . if it means that you are against someone because of their race, creed, or color, no sir we are not racist.
BRIAN PACE: We believe that everyone one way and another believes in ethnic purity . . . the blacks, the Mexicans, the Muslims, the Jews . . . everyone believes they should stick to their own.
REPORTER: The words “ethnic purity” do have an unpleasant connotation.
BILL LORD: Ethnic purity, cultural purity . . . we are Southerners . . . we consider ourselves to be our own distinct people . . . we believe that everybody has the right to preserve their way and have self determination in their own way.
REPORTER: Mississippi is now planning to mandate the teaching of civil rights in its state schools—a small step, one might imagine to helping today’s youngsters understand and come to terms with their parents’ and grandparents’ behavior. Predictably the Council doesn’t see it that way.
BRIAN PACE: I think it is another step to communism . . . forcing kids to do what they don’t want to do. Whatever happened to freedom of association? Whatever happened to freedom to think? It seems that free speech is being squandered. This mandating all it is gonna do is have a bunch of white and black and Mexican kids sitting around a table and apologizing to the blacks. And that’s just driving another wedge. It is not 1960 anymore it is time to move on.
REPORTER: I haven’t heard the word “reconciliation.” Is there reconciliation with the blacks?
BILL LORD: Well I wonder what you mean by reconciliation? We reach out to anybody who wants to join with us but we are not going to go out and try and integrate with them and go along with liberal policies.
REPORTER: Should Mississippi apologize for the treatment of blacks historically?
BILL LORD: No sir. I tell you what, I never owned any slaves and none of my forefathers did and certainly there were some bad things done against whites during the civil rights revolution. If there is gonna be an apology it should be both ways
BRIAN PACE: What are we going to do? Start apologizing to clowns for being looked down upon for 100 years? We can’t continually be apologizing. We got to go forward, we can’t get stuck on those issues.
Tourism booster, Lydia Chassaniol, is a proud member of the Council of Conservative Citizens, but she doesn’t think that makes her a racist. Here’s the relevant portion of her interview with Mangold:
REPORTER: Senator Chassaniol is also a member of an ultra right wing group with deeply embedded views on race—the Mississippi Council of Conservative Citizens, an organization officially shunned by mainstream politicians throughout the South. The Senator addressed one of their annual conferences, explaining she’ll talk to almost anyone who wants her to talk. Her opponents see this as either tactlessness, or a form of naïve, unconscious racism. Senator Chassaniol however is consistently cheerful in admitting her membership of the group.
LYDIA CHASSANIOL: I will have to answer yes, I belong to the local group because they serve as a booster club for one of the local schools. They raise money for the school—that’s about all they do. What I would like to point out to your listeners this is not the same Mississippi as it was 40 or 50 years ago . . . people change, attitudes change. Even people who in their youth would never have thought about sitting down at a lunch counter or belonging to a civic club where there were black people involved, it’s done routinely now and the people of Mississippi are now getting along very well.
What the Senator doesn’t tell you is that the school the CCC raises money for in Mississippi is an all-white segregation academy formed in the wake of federally mandated integration in the early 1970s. I’m sure it’s a fine school (Chassaniol once taught there) and I’m also sure they need help from community boosters; but the origins of the school are illuminating.
Chassaniol is certainly right that race relations have improved considerably since the civil rights era, in Montgomery County and throughout Mississippi. Unfortunately, the woman backing the Flowers legislation belongs to an organization that regards the civil rights movement with utter contempt. Does Chassaniol share this perspective? It’s difficult to say. She will have to answer that question herself. But we are clearly dealing with a species of racial insensitivity rooted in the tragic history of Montgomery County.
Prom Night in Mississippi
Lydia Chassaniol’s decision to address a group famous for it’s crude racism has Mississippi baffled (thus far, no one else is paying attention). Why would an astute politician with a reputation for Christian rectitude feel “hopeful” talking to a roomful of unapologetic white supremacists? This doesn’t sound like political opportunism if you live in Washington DC or even Jackson, Mississippi; but Miss Lydia knows what’s she’s doing.
In the late 1990s, just as Trent Lott and Bob Barr were apologizing for their association with the Council of Conservative Citizens, Governor Kirk Fordice refused to back away from the racist organization. Lott and Barr had to adapt their rhetoric to the norms of Washington DC; Governor Fordice had only the voters of Mississippi to worry about.
Lydia Chassaniol had little to gain from addressing the CCC. Only 300 delegates heard her speak and only a few dozen of that number will ever pull the lever in the Senator’s district. So why bother?
Miss Lydia was sending a signal to the residents of communities like Winona, Greenwood and Grenada: she feels their pain and shares their anxiety. That’s a message that gets people elected.
In 1998, actor Morgan Freeman offered to pay for a racially integrated prom in his hometown of Charleston, Mississippi, just up the road from Winona. White community leaders turned him down flat. A decade later, with a team of Canadian documentarians in tow, Freeman renewed his offer. This time he struck paydirt. Well, sort of. Several white families refused to participate (you can find an article and YouTube video here), but Charleston Mississippi (population 2,000) now has an integrated prom.
HBO will be airing the “Prom Night in Mississippi” documentary on July 20th. The Southern Poverty Law Center is cooperating with the Freeman project (information and a second HBO promo here.)

Morgan Freeman was the writing on the wall. Other little communities in rural Mississippi, Winona among them, have also integrated their prom nights in the last few years.
Lydia Chassanioldidn’t have to worry about black classmates when she attended Winona High School. Mississippi schools didn’t integrate until 1970. Miss Lydia didn’t have to worry about black folks at church or at the country club either. No one helped little towns like Charleston and Winona with the sea change of integration; they just fumbled through it as best they could. You either sent your child to one of the segregation academies the Council of Conservative Citizens was sponsoring, or you made the most of a bad situation.
This doesn’t mean the woman is entirely sheltered from American diversity. She has taught in the integrated Winona public school system, she has worked with black children in the impoverished Mississippi Delta (on the western boundary of her district) and she served for many years on the Mississippi Parole Board (she is a big supporter of early parole and alternatives to incarceration). It could be argued that small town Mississippians like Lydia Chassaniolhave more personal experience with black people than most white American suburbanites.
But the Senator’s heart and head live with the white folks who elected her and on whom her re-election depends. How else do you explain the lovefest in Jackson with one of the most virulently racist organizations in America?

The first time I visited Winona I was repeatedly informed by black residents that only whites were welcome at the County Club and that the community had a restaurant with a white-only clientele. Initially, I was skeptical. Segregated restaurants are illegal. I was told that if you don’t advertise yourself as a business the law doesn’t apply.
Curious, I dropped in for breakfast.
If you didn’t know the place was a restaurant only the cars parked outside would have given away the secret. The food was terrific, my server was delightful, the camaraderie was touching and every person (other than cooks) who walked into the establishment during the ninety minutes I was in the place looked like me. An old rusted sign hangs from an inside wall: “Dutch Mill Cafe”. I guessed that the sign was once displayed out front in the good old days when segregated restaurants were the norm.
When you grasp the significance of segregated proms and white-only restaurants in the twenty-first century Lydia Chassaniol’s dalliance with a egregiously racist organization begins to make sense.
Strange Doings in Magnolia Country
In my first post in this series I suggested that Mississippi State Senator Lydia Chassaniol was in trouble for addressing the Council of Conservative Citizens, a group that revels in its hatred of blacks, Jews, Latinos and the civil rights movement.
It appears I misspoke.
Apart from the Greenwood Commonwealth, the Mississippi media has chosen to avert its eyes from the senator’s strange social dalliance. Even when it was disclosed that Lydia Chassaniol is a proud, card-carrying member of the CCC, the Jackson Clarion-Ledger ignored the story.
Last summer, Gabriel Thompson spent a weekend at the CCC conference in Sheffield, Alabama. Each speaker, Thompson reports, seemed more bigoted and mean-spirited than the last. There seemed to be a competition to see who could toss the crowd the biggest slab of red meat. It was quickly apparent that no comment, be it ever so vile, could offend a single member of the audience.
The keynote speaker was Lt. Drew Lackey, the man who booked and fingerprinted Rosa Parks. According to the pro
motional literature circulated by the Council of Conservative Citizens, the audience would “learn how Rosa Parks was a Communist and how the movement she inspired has torn apart the fabric of our nation. A limited number of his books will be available to be autographed.”
As Gabriel Thompson listened in rapt unbelief, Lt. Lackey laid out the facts.
“He spent 22 years in law enforcement, retiring as the chief of police for Montgomery in 1970, and recently self-published a book about the period. He tells us a story about the violence that rocked the city.
“In reaction to the boycott, Lackey explains, whites had firebombed four churches and the homes of Martin Luther King Jr. and Ralph Abernathy. While Lackey was investigating one of the incidents, he noticed a car slowly driving by. ‘This is something that for some reason criminals like to do, to revisit the scene of the crime,’ he says. His police instincts were correct: He pulled the car over and won a confession from the men, who led him to a stash of explosives that they were planning to use in the future.’
“”Now, we had an all-white jury on that case,’ he continues. ‘They deliberated for 45 minutes, and they returned a ‘not guilty’ verdict on all counts.’ The people sitting at my table, whose name tags identify them as being from Missouri, start to clap. Others join in, some standing, until the room fills with applause.”
Did you catch that? Lt. Lackey did his duty as a police officer by arresting suspected bombers. But when an all-white jury refused to convict the confessed terrorists Lackey joined in the general jubilation.
Okay, that was 1956, so we must make allowances.
But notice, when the speaker celebrates jury nullification his audience breaks into wild applause. And now it’s 2008.
Question. As a dues-paying member of the CCC was Lydia Chassaniol in the audience when Lt. Lackey was whipping his audience into a frenzy? If so, did she hoot and whistle along with everybody else?
Frankly, I have trouble imagining a good Methodist layperson like Lydia Chassaniol participating in a racist bacchanal.
And yet she belongs to the organization. Every politician in Mississippi remembers how Trent Lott and Bob Barr were forced to disown the nasty-as-they-wanna-be CCC. But Lydia Chassaniol doesn’t care what happens in Congress–she represents the good people of Winona, Greenwood and Grenada, Mississippi.
Chassaniol may have addressed her racist brothers and sisters as an act of principle. Or perhaps the speech is best understood as a calculated political ploy. Either way it raises questions that the Clarion-Ledger refusesto ask.
In fairness, it must be remembered that the Mississippi media gave Lott and Barr a pass until (and some would say after) the national media uncovered their unsavory associations. (To the left, Lott appears with officials of the Council of Conservative Citizens in 1997. From left, William D. Lord, state coordinator; Mr. Lott; Tom Dover, president, and Gordon L. Baum, executive officer.)
This reluctance to point the finger is understandable in a state where civil rights resentment still runs high. A publication struggling for survival can’t afford to antagonize a large percentage of its readership.
On July 28th, James Bibbs, a retired Winona school teacher goes on trial in Yazoo City, Mississippi. Lydia Chassaniol and James Bibbs both grew up in Winona and taught in her public schools–that’s where the similarity ends.
In a wild scene at the conclusion of a contentious trial, Judge Joseph Loper accused Mr. Bibbs of intentionally lying during voir dire so he could hang the jury.
The evidence? Bibbs allegedly told fellow jurors that, on the morning in question he had been visiting with friends at a lawnmower repair business just behind the furniture store where propietor Bertha Tardy and three employees were senselessly slaughtered. During trial, a police officer testified that he and his fellow officers canvassed the neighborhood. According to some jurors, Bibbs said he didn’t see any police canvassing that day.
According to Judge Loper, this constitutes perjury because, during voir dire, Bibbs said he knew nothing about the Flowers case apart from what he read in the newspaper.
True, Bibbs was within a block of the murder scene, but he didn’t see or hear anything bearing on the case.
Not surprisingly, Rob McDuff, Bibbs’ attorney, filed a motion to quash the state’s indictment. In his brief, McDuff argued that Judge Loper, having already concluded that Bibbs intentionally lied his way onto the jury, could not be objective.
Loper, realizing he had no defense against this argument, stepped aside.
Next, McDuff questioned the motivation and judgment of District Attorney Doug Evans. Even if Judge Loper had already pronounced Bibbs guilty, Evans should have turned the case over to the state Attorney General’s office. Having been involved in the voir dire process, Evans was a potential witness in the Bibbs trial.
“Moreover,” McDuff argued, “by seeking the indictment itself rather than allowing another office to conduct an objective evaluation, the District Attorney’s office has raised the inevitable question of whether it sought the indictment because of improper motives rather than because of the evidence. As explained in this brief, there is no evidence to support the charges in this indictment, which suggests that the indictment could not have been based upon an objective evaluation.”
So, why were the changes filed?
McDuff (pictured to the left) has a theory. “The history of (the Curtis Flowers) case is characterized by a litany of prosecutorial misconduct. The first three trials resulted in convictions but each was reversed for misconduct–the first two relating to improprieties during the presentation of evidence and the third relating to a Batson violation [an illegal attempt to keep blacks off the jury].”
Then McDuff cuts to the bone. “If the District Attorney’s office was willing to engage in repeated misconduct in order to obtain a conviction and death sentence against Mr. Flowers, there is a significant possibility that, in its frustration over failing to secure a valid conviction after five trials, it may have indicted Mr. Bibbs in retaliation for being the lone vote for acquittal in the last trial. This is particularly so in light of the weakness of the charges.”
Or might it be that Doug Evans (and Judge Loper) are taking the long view in this matter?
McDuff references United States v. Thomas which acknowledges that “The group of jurors favoring conviction may well come to view the ‘holdout’ or ‘holdouts’ not only as unreasonable, but as unwilling to follow the court’s instructions on the law”.
This, McDuff suggests, is precisely what is happening in Winona. White residents can’t understand why black folks don’t see just how strong the state’s case against Curtis Flowers is. White residents have been discussing the matter with one another since 1996 and there is no doubt in their minds that Curtis is the one that done it. The state’s case is so strong, in fact, that black jurors are just like the folks who refused to convict the self-confessed bombers in Montgomery in 1957. Montgomery jurors annulled a law they didn’t like and now it’s the black folks’ turn.
That’s one explanation for the racial divide in Winona, Mississippi? Might there be another?
What if Winona native Lydia Chassaniol represents her community in the Senate and the court of public opinion. Chassaniol can’t understand what’s so very wrong with the Council of Conservative Citizens. How many Winona citizens share this sentiment? Are we talking about a community longing for the good old pre-civil rights days with its segregated schools, drinking fountains and business establishments.
Perhaps that a bit too crude? We may be dealing with a continuum stetching from folks on the left who merely resent the racist hick stereotype and stretching all the way over to the folks on the right who long for a return to their Confederate Zion.
Might there even be a half dozen white Winona liberals who rejoice in the demise of Jim Crow?
Perhaps But my gut tells me that Lydia Chassaniol is vintage Winona.
That’s not all bad. Chassaniol is hard-working, intelligent, earnest, and well-intentioned.
She is also (and I really hate to put it so bluntly) an unrepentant racist. How else do you explain the CCC membership.
If somebody out there can set me straight here I would be sincerely appreciative. I mean that. I have a daughter named Lydia. When I see Chassaniol’s picture I know I would enjoy her company.
And yet . . .
Enough of my liberal white-bashing. What are we to make of the few members of Winona’s black community who have made it onto a jury?
In trial number 3, Doug Evans had fifteen peremptory challenges and used them all on African Americans. That’s just one reason the Mississippi Supreme Court tossed out the conviction.
In trial number four, five black Winona residents made it onto the jury and all five voted “not guilty”.
In trial five there were three black jurors and two voted with the white majority.
The contradiction is more apparent than real. Experts on jury behavior talk about the “one-third rule”. In a factually ambiguous case featuring a black defendant and a white victim, if minority jurors comprise less than one-third of the jury they tend to vote with the majority. When you have four or more minority jurors the chances of a minority-majority divergence rise substantially.
“If this charge is allowed to stand,” Rob McDuff argues in his brief, “it will mean that any juror who disagrees with the overwhelming majority of the others can potentially be prosecuted for having a pre-conceived opinion, particularly in a controversial high-profile trial . . . The fact that this indictment was obtained by the District Attorney’s office that prosecuted Mr. Flowers could have a chilling effect on jurors in the present case. Mr. Bibbs was the lone holdout juror in the Flowers murder case, which was tried by that office, and he subsequently was indicted by the same office. This could send a message to jurors in the present case that if they do not vote with the District Attorney’s office, they too could find themselves indicted by that office.”
In the face of these arguments, Doug Evans recused himself from the Bibbs case. For similar reasons, the July 28th trial will be held in Yazoo City instead of Winona. Now that the Bibbs case has been dumped in the lap of a less-than-enthusiastic Attorney General’s office it’s hard to know what to expect. The Bibbs trial is certain to be a learning experience. I’ll keep you posted.
Bibbs perjury trial is postponed
James Bibbs’ perjury trial has been postponed. Jury selection was originally scheduled to begin on Tuesday, July 28th. (I have dealt with the background to this story in an earlier post.)
The Jackson Clarion-Ledger may be ignoring state senator Lydia Chassaniol’s intimate ties to one America’s most racist organizations, but the paper has been faithfully following the Bibbs case. Earlier this year, Chassaniol sponsored legislation designed to expand the jury pool in the Curtis Flowers case to a five-county district (Flowers is pictured to the left). Current law stipulates that a defendant has a constitutional right to stand trial in his or her county of residence.
Because Montgomery County is over 50% black, it will inevitably produce more black jurors than most Mississippi counties. Moreover, the Flowers family has a reputation in the African American community as stable, religious and friendly. As a result, most black jurors are open to the possibility that Curtis Flowers might be innocent. After five murder trials and three convictions, it is difficult to find a white resident of socially segregated Winona who doesn’t think the case against Flowers is overwhelming.
This racial perception gap is evident in the comments section at the end of the Clarion-Ledger article. Those who think Flowers murdered Bertha Tardy and three other innocent people in 1996 also tend to believe that juror James Bibbs is guilty of perjury. Readers who think the case against Flowers is weak see Bibbs as the victim of a vindictive prosecutor.
“It’s a shame race has been used to prohibit justice in this case,” one reader writes. ”This is about a violent animal with no compassion for anyone that took the lives of innocent people. Everyone (black and white) should be united in bringing these animals to justice not matter the race. This could happen to any of us as long as thugs like Flowers are allowed to walk free. With the overwhelming evidence in this case and the fact that he has already been tried and convicted three times should be enough for anyone. Instead we continue to waste taxpayer money on technicalities. What a farce.”
Another reader disagrees:
NO, that is NOT the way the justice system is supposed to work. You do not base your decision or vote on past trials and juries. I don’t know if he is guilty or not. However I do know the verdict should be based on evidence presented during this trial alone.
A third person thinks DA Doug Evans prosecuted juror Bibbs as tactic of intimidation:
It appears to me that they are trying to send a message to the next group that serve on the jury that if you don’t find Flowers guilty you could be charged with the same charges as Bibbs! It won’t work! People will vote the way they see it! I agree when you prosecute someone on the thin evidence here, it could send an unfortunate message that people are being prosecuted because of the way they vote on the jury. That is completely improper. Only in Mississippi! It’s time for the Feds to come in and clean this up!
Did Curtis Flowers casually massacre four innocent people in a furniture store and then go about his business as if nothing had happened? If so, he defintely fits the “violent animal” profile.
But what if the “violent animal” shoe doesn’t fit?
Prior to the Tardy murders, Curtis was known as a goodnatured gospel singer. Since being locked up in 1996, Flowers has been a model prisoner best known for leading the singing at worship services.
I recently talked to a prison guard who has been watching Flowers carefully for several years and is convinced the man isn’t capable of committing such a heinous crime.
“He ’bout one of the finest young men I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” the guard told me. “He’s one of the nicest people ever put on a pair of pants. He goes to church, he’s free-hearted, he’d give you his last dime. He doesn’t look like somebody who did the crime. He sleeps sound. If you puttin’ on, there’ll be a time when you slip up.”
According to the guard, other prisoners frequently remark that Curtis doesn’t fit the killer profile.
But I digress.
You may be wondering why the perjury trial of James Bibbs was postponed at the eleventh hour?
When Judge Joseph Loper hauled Mr. Bibbs into court and pronounced him guilty of perjury, the case should have been turned over to the Attorney General’s office. Bibbs had just robbed prosecutor Doug Evans of a long-sought conviction and Evans could hardly be seen as objective. Moreover, Evans was a potential fact witness at trial. Eventually, the case was turned over the Mississippi AG’s office and handed down to the first prosecutor with the time to take it.
Unlike DA Evans, the new prosecutor has nothing personal against the defendant; he’s just doing his job. Defense attorney Rob McDuff suggested that the AG’s office should take a good hard look at this case before proceeding. The special prosecutor agreed to do that.
That’s all we know at present and I’m not inclined to read any deeper meaning into the postponement. I will be writing more about the background of the Flowers case in the near future.
Strom Thurmond’s Ghost

Strom Thurmond Trent Lott Lydia Chassaniol
(This post is part of a series concerning a horrific crime that has divided a small Mississippi town. Earlier posts can be found here.)
We have been asking how a Mississippi State Senator can be a proud member of the most racist organization in America without drawing comment from the regional media. Even when Lydia Chassaniol addressed the annual gathering of the resegregationist Council of Conservative Americans, the Jackson Clarion-Ledger declined comment.
I realize that my repeated references to a faithful Methodist and loyal Republican makes me look mean, cheap and petty. What has Lydia Chassanoil ever done to me?
Nothing personal, but Senator Chassaniol happens to be the walking embodiment of a question: How far has small town Mississippi traveled down the civil rights highway?
Mississippi, like every state in the Union, is a complex tangle of individuals and interests. In a controversail article in Look, Hodding Carter II, a Mississippi Delta newspaper editor, challenged the White Citizens Councils. Retribution came swiftly. A member of the Mississippi House of Representatives called the article a “Willful lie by a nigger-loving editor” and the House put the question to a vote.
Carter responded in a front-page editorial:
By vote of 89 to 19, the Mississippi House of Representatives has resolved the editor of this newspaper into a liar because of an article I wrote. If this charge were true, it would make me well qualified to serve in that body. It is not true. So to even things up, I hereby resolve by a vote of one to nothing that there are eighty-nine liars in the state legislature.
The 0utcome of the vote suggests that Carter was swimming against a strong tide.
More representative of mainstream opinion in the state is Strom Thurmond, the man who ran for President on the segregationist State’s Rights ticket in 1948. Harry Truman had recently integrated the US Army and Thurmond didn’t like it.
Strom Thurmond stood for the same resegregationist policies the Council of Conservative Citizens currently endorses, but Thurmond took his stand back when segregation was cool. For the most part, Dixiecrats like Thurmond never changed their stripes. Speaking in the Dirkson Senate Office Building on the occasion of his political mentor’s 100th birthday, Lott raised eyebrows across the nation.
“I want to say this about my state. When Strom Thurmond ran for president, we voted for him. We’re proud of it. And if the rest of the country had followed our lead, we wouldn’t have had all these problems over all these years either.”
Lott later suggested that he had been quoted out of context. But consider this. When Thurmond spoke at a Ronald Reagan rally in Mississippi in 1980, Lott expressed the same views in public: “You know, if we had elected that man 30 years ago, we wouldn’t be in the mess we are today.”
The unavoidable import of these remarks is that if the Jim Crow segregation had remained in force America would be a better country.
Lydia Chassaniol agrees with this sentiment–or so it seems. When Jesse Jackson remarked that he would like to castrate Barack Obama for talking down to black folks, Chassaniol was surprised by the muted response from the media:
The calm with which this has been reported pales in comparison to the coverage of the innocuous remark made by then Sen. Trent Lott several years ago at the 100th birthday party of the late Sen. Strom Thurmond. Sen. Lott didn’t threaten anyone, but merely wished an elder statesman a happy birthday and said things might not have been so bad if he, Thurmond, had been elected President over half a century ago. While we’ll never know if Sen. Lott was right about Strom Thurmond being elected President, we do know that no one was physically threatened by what he said, and yet, there was a maelstrom of media coverage condemning Lott.
Chassaniol can’t prove that a segregated America would have been a better America, but she is certainly open to the possibility.
In 1960, when Lydia Chassaniol was attending elementary school, Mrs. Claudia Hill Minga of Winona, MS wrote an anguished letter to the Jackson Daily News. The letter caught the attention of the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission, a nefarious arm of state government formed to snoop on civil rights activists. Between 1960 and 1964, the Sovereignty Commission secretly funded the White Citizens Council (the forerunner to the Chassaniol’s Council of Conservative Citizens).
After closely observing both the Democratic and Republican conservations on television, with a deep resentment of the insults to our Southern delegations; and especially noting the obsequious deference and the glad-hand extended by the Kennedy-Johnson duo to the Negro representatives of the NAACP as they enthusiastically assured them of their support and the enforcement of their demands, I a sixth generation Democrat, realized that I was a woman without a party.
In my opinion, any Southerner with respect for himself, the future generations and his Caucasion blood, could not possibly accept the infamous civil rights planks of either party.
However, Mississippians have received new hope and optimism from the recent organization of the state of Independent Electors headed by Governor Ross Barnett and loyal state officials and citizens who refuse to forfeit our state’s rights and personal freedom or yield to the domination of Negroes and white “liberals”. We shall fight valiantly and fearlessly and though we should be defeated we shall under no circumstances be found “on a longely island, waving a white flag” in cowardly surrender, according to the jeering, sneering prophesy of Bidwell Adam.
Mrs. Claudia Hill Minga,
Winona, Miss.
The reference to Bidwell Adam may give the impression that somebody in Mississippi (besides Hodding Carter) was questioning the fight for segregation. Not so. Adam, a former Mississippi Lt. Governor (pictured at the left), was state chair of the MS Democratic Party when Ross Barnett took up residence in the governor’s mansion in 1960. According to a Time article in 1959, Barnett won the election by employing the most appalling rhetoric the South has ever heard: ”The Negro is different because God made him different to punish him. His forehead slants back. His nose is different. His lips are different, and his color is sure different.”
Barnett’s first act as Governor was to arrange a conference of Southern governors to stand four-square for segregation. “I am going to put forth every effort,” Barnett promised, “to organize Southern Governors to create and crystallize public opinion throughout the nation with reference to our traditions and Southern way of life.”
Bidwell Adam was delighted with this development: “I want to say I’m thankful to God that Ross Barnett has saved Mississippi,” he told the press.
In 1963 when 200,000 people marched to the Lincoln Memorial to demand “jobs and freedom” for African American, the Jackson Clarion-Ledger gave the rally a passing mention. The next day’s headline was more direct: WASHINGTON IS CLEAN AGAIN WITH NEGRO TRASH REMOVED.
This was a time when nothing good could be said about Negroes or civil rights. When Lydia Chassaniol was a school girl, an ugly synergy between hate and resentment controlled Mississippi politics, spilling over into the criminal justice system.
James. P. Coleman, the man Ross Barnett succeeded as Governor, called in the FBI in 1959 when a crowd in the southern Mississippi town of Poplarville tried to break into the local jail to lynch a black man accused of raping a white woman. The move won warm praise from Roy Wilkens of the NAACP, but Bidwell Adam was unimpressed. “Wilkins gave Coleman a nice bouquet of roses wrapped in gold foil,” Adam charged, “to sew up the 25,000 Negro votes.”
Were there 25,000 black voters in the state of Mississippi in 1959. According to Randall Kennedy, “In many rural areas, black voters were virtually non-existent; in Mississippi in 1955, fourteen rural counties with large black populations had no black registered voters.”
How did it feel to live in towns like Winona in the early 1960s? That’s the subject of my next post.
The Antichrist world of the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission
Why has a black man named Curtis Flowers been to trial five times on the same murder charges? When Curtis goes to trial for the sixth time he will establish a new national record for the number of times a single defendant has been tried for the same murder. A big part of the answer lies buried in the history of the town Curtis grew up in.
And how can state senator Lydia Chassaniol blithely admit that she is a member of the notorious Council of Conservative Citizens without stirring a ripple of official protest? You’ve got to understand the history of the state of Mississippi, Montgomedy County and the town of Winona historybefore any of this stuff begins to make sense.
I am frequently criticized for giving the South a bad name. The racial animus of yesteryear is gone, my critics tell me. You can find black police officers, black mayors, black sheriffs and prominent black business owners throughout the length and breadth of Old Dixie, so why do I sometimes write as if nothing has changed?
In the Deep South it was never about race, per se; it was about protecting a way of life from the corroding acids of Yankee liberalism.
The trouble began during the Second World War when Harry Truman integrated the American military. Then Brown vs. Board of Education overturned the separate-but-equal doctrine in public education. Then folks up north started fussing about Emit Till and Rosa Parks. Where was the outside agitation going to end? Somebody had to draw a line in the sand.
So it was that in 1956 the state of Mississippi created a “Sovereignty Commission” to keep tabs on the NAACP, outside agitators, the FBI, the federal Department of Justice and every other organization and individual opposed to “the Southern way of life.” The word “sovereignty” suggested that Mississippi was locked in a life-and-death struggle to see who would control the institutional life of the state, the people of Mississippi or the federal government?
The files of the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission were eventually unsealed and can now be found online. Spend a few hours sifting through this gut-wrenching mass of information and you get a feel for the sort of information the Commission was looking for. In the dawning days of 1960, a Montgomery County sheriff’s deputy named William L. Kelly was bludgeoned to death with a hammer while he worked in his office. The Sovereignty Commission was attracted to the story because two Negroes, “bootlegger and an ex-convict” Alec Morris, 49 and factory worker Pink Townsend, 25 were the prime suspects in the case. Other Commission documents suggest that few Montgomery County Negroes had run afoul of the law that year so the gruesome misdeeds of Morris and Townsend were welcome news. Stories illustrating the Negro’s natural proclivity for violence and dissipation were highly prised by the Commission.
Gradually, the facts around the Kelly murder grew more Byzantine. Minnie Lee Kelly, the wife of the slain deputy (always identified as “a pretty brunette”) was brought in for questioning. The “two Negroes” had signed confessions stating that they had been paid to kill the deputy. But it quickly surfaced that the lovely Minnie Lee was involved in a treacherous love triangle with her murdered husband and sheriff Lawrence King. Ultimately, Minnie Lee went free and the High Sheriff himself was charged with hiring the two black men to dispatch his own deputy.
At this point the Sovereignty Commission appeared to lose interest in the story. In the early 1960s, there were few official restraints on the activities of Mississippi Sheriffs–especially men like Larry King who freely cooperated with the Sovereignty boys in Jackson. But a Sheriff who hires two black men to get rid of his lover’s husband was a potential embarrassment.
The Commission’s interest in the case revived slightly when former governor JP Coleman was hired to defend the disgraced Sheriff. When the hired-killers received life sentences in exchange for cooperation Coleman was indignant. Was the State of Mississippi going to execute a white man and let the Negroes escape with their lives?
Sovereignty Commission records don’t provide the final chapter to the story but Winona residents assure me that all three men died in the dreaded Parchman prison. Minnie Lee Kelly continued to live in Winona and died in a traffic accident a few years ago.
How does a County Sheriff accused of paying two men to bump off his lover’s husband warrant an ex-Governor as a defense attorney? The Sovereignty Commission was initiated during J.C. Coleman’s term as governor and was run out of the governor’s office. Both the Governor and his client had gone down to defeat in the 1960 election. The increasingly morose Sheriff was beaten by a staunch segregationist named Earle Partridge while Coleman was being “out-niggered” (to useGeorge Wallace’s charming phrase) by the fire-breathing segregationist Ross Barnett. Standing up for a white defendant allowed Coleman to re-establish his racist bona fides with potential voters.
But there was more to it than that. A heavy hitter like Coleman ensured that a Mississippi Sheriff escaped the gas chamber and the state was saved from a potential embarrassment. No one wanted the Yankees to get hold of a story that was none of their business.
By 1960, a master of polite intimidation named Tom Scarborough had been assigned to investigate signs of agitation in Montgomery County. Scarborough and his bosses were particularly concerned about black teachers and school principals who, if they were so inclined, could easily pay the poll tax and pass the registration exam. But the Montgomery Circuit Clerk Mrs. Grady Nail informed Scarborough that the twelve Negroes registered to vote when she took office had all unregistered. State figures showed that by the early 1960s only 14,000 Negroes were voting in all of Mississippi–down from a high of 25,000 a decade earlier.
It is tempting to compare thugs like Tom Scarborough to the Nazi Gestapo, but the parallel isn’t exact. Commission men like Scarborough had no powers of arrest and Mississippi citizens were free to decline an interview if they so chose. But when Scarborough showed up at the door folks were always eager to chat. In 1960, the year of the Kelly murder, Lamar Wray, a resident of Kilmichael in Montgomery County wrote a letter to the Jackson paper mocking a member of the Sovereignty Commission for telling an audience in the Midwest that 95% of Mississippi Negroes were comfortable with segregation. Mr. Wray was sure that folks outside the South could see a claim that specious.
Lamar Wray’s letter was never punished; instead, the Montgomery County resident received a visit from Tom Scarborough. ”Mr. Wray appeared to be shook up while I was talking to him,” Scarborough exulted. “I told him I would be going and he followed me all the wsay to my car in the rain bare-footed . . . I do not believe we will be hearing anything else fromj Mr. Wray concerning the Negro intergration (sic) problem.”
Wray had good reason to be “shook up.” Getting on the wrong side of men like Tom Scarborough could make you unemployable in little towns like Kilmichael.
The paranoia was so deep that when a Montgomery County civic organization hired black singer Fats (Blueberry Hill) Domino to provide entertainment at a dance at the Armory in 1960, State Sovereignty Commission Director Albert J0nes fired off a letter of concern to Governor Ross Barnett noting that Fats Domino was colored and that ”this office has received two calls of concern about this dance.”
The Sovereignty Commission worked hand-in-glove with the (White) Association of Citizens’ Councils of Mississippi, the precursor to Lydia Chassaniol’s Council of Conservative Citizens. The Council was particularly active in Greenwood, Mississippi, a few miles west of Winona. A letter from Secretary Robnert B. Patterson in 1959 (in the wake of the Little Rock 9 incident) vividly illustrates the brand of white paranoia stalking the land.
By now every white Southerner should realize the absolute necessity of maintaining strong local and state Citizens’ Council organizations. We have seen what happens in states and communities that have no organization or weak organization against the race mixing program of the NAACP and the many left-wing groups.
Our greatest enemies here in Mississippi are the complacency and apathy of our own people, who are not doing their part in this struggle for survival.
In December of 1959, the Council released a blistering diatribe called “Here is the enemy”, a list of 74 organizations and political entities “favoring civil rights and anti-South force legislation.” As one might expect, the list featured several branches of the NAACP and Martin Luther King Jr.’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference. But virtually every department of the federal government, every branch of the armed forces, most mainline Christian denominations, a variety of progressive Jewish organizations and several prominent labor unions also figured prominently on the list.
In other words, the Citizens’ Councils regarded every organization committed to justice, fairness and equity as the enemy. Check out the website of the Council of Conservative Citizens and you will see that little has changed.
Readers are sure to deplore the phrase “Antichrist world” in my title; but the floridly rhetorical shoe fits the city, county and state Lydia Chassaniol and her generation grew up in. If this is all a matter of stale history why does the senator claim membership in an organization bristling with the same kind of black-bashing, anti-progressive paranoia you find in the documents of the Sovereignty Commission? Lydia Chassaniol and Curtis Flowers grew up in a deeply religious culture that systematically renounced every good gift Jesus of Nazareth brought to the world. So long as everyone knew their place southern hospitality lived up to its press clippings. But virtues like fairness, mercy and forgiveness melted away the moment anyone, black or white, took a principled stand against the Southern way of life.
This southern style of parnanoia was rooted in racism, to be sure, but it didn’t end there. Mississippi had its share of progressive spirits like Hodding Carter and Will Campbell, but most of these people were educated outside the South and few had the courage to voice their convictions publicly. As Lamar Wray discovered to his sorrow, it wasn’t safe to mock segregation in 196os Mississippi. Only one perspective was tolerated. Black citizens foolish enough to exercize their voting rights in towns like Winona soon found themselves unemployed and vulnerable to the whim of the County Sheriff. This was a world where ignorant segregationists like Tom Scarborough prospered and progressive spirits like Lamar Wray kept their eyes down and their mouths shut.
What happened when a brave band of Freedom Riders strayed into the Antichrist world I have just described? That’s the subject of my next post.
Meddlesome Intruders: The Freedom Riders hit Jackson, Mississippi
What happens when the state of Mississippi takes a man to trial five times and fails to obtain a final conviction?
If the defendant is Curtis Flowers you try him a sixth time. So far as I can gather, no American accused of murder has ever faced trial on the same facts six times. But if it takes ten trials to convict Flowers, the state of Mississippi, represented by District Attorney Doug Evans, is determined to do it.
(What follows is part of a series of posts concerning the tragedy that has divided a Mississippi town. The entire series can be found here.)
The picture at the left was snapped in late September of 1962, thirty-four years before Curtis Flowers was apprehendedby the State of Mississippi. The shot captures the scene a day before James Meredith enrolled at Ole Miss in Oxford, Mississippi after two years of legal and political maneuvering. The men in the picture are sheriffs from all over the state who were called to Oxford to keep the peace. In reality, they were in Oxford to keep the federal government from integrating Ole Miss. The man holding the bat is Sheriff Billy Ferrell of Natchez, Mississippi. The man with the arm band and his back to the camera is Sheriff John Ed Cothranof Greenwood, just down the road from Winona. The fat man with the malicious grin is Sheriff James Ira Grimsely of Pascagoula on the coast. The fellow brandishing clenched fists is Sheriff James Wesley Garrison of Oxford.
The picture originally appeared in Life magazine. The photographer was Charles Moore, the same man who captured the famous scene of Martin Luther King being arrested in Montgomery, Alabama in 1958.
You can learn everything you would ever want to know about Charles Moore and the sheriffs in his famous picture by picking up a copy of Paul Hendrickson’s Sons of Mississippi, available from Amazon. You can buy a used copy for one red penny.
A reporter with the Washington Post, Hendricksonwas mesmerized by the picture of the Mississippi lawmen. The mixture of malice and mirth raised obvious questions about the men and their mission. Hendrickson spent several years travelling between Washington and Mississippi interviewing the surviving sheriffs, their children and their grandchildren.
A telling phrase echoes through the book: “that civil rights crap”. All these men were on guard during the period between 1960 and 1964 when the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission and the Citizens’ Councils were fighting a last ditch battle to preserve the Southern way of life. In their minds, people like Medgar Evers of the Mississippi NAACP, Fannie Hamer, the unlettered organizer from Ruleville, Mississippi, and nationally prominent leaders like Martin Luther King were nothing but a bunch of self-promoting communist agitators.
That’s not so surprising, perhaps, considering the traumatic times these men lived through. But Hendrickson found little reason to believe that the children and grand children of the men in Moore’s picture felt much differently. The issues weren’t as emotional for the young folk; but civil rights resentment appeared to be a staple of Mississippi life. The fact that only 11% of Mississippi’s white voters cast their ballots for Barack Obama might not seem all that significant by itself (nationally, Obama won the votes of 43% of white voters). But when yourealize that Mississippi towns like Winona and Charleston entered the twentieth century with segregated senior proms, or that State Senator Lydia Chassaniol can boast about her membership in the thoroughly racist Council of Conservative without raising a single eyebrow in the regional media you begin to understand the mindset Curtis Flowers of Winona, Mississippi is grappling with.
On May 31, 1961, the Legal Defense Fund of the NAACP (the same organization that sponsored Brown vs. Board of Education in 1954) captured national attention by filing a suit on behalf of James Meredith, the black man Ole Miss refused to admit. There had been less fanfare a few weeks earlier when an integrated group of “Freedom Riders” left Washington DC.
True to a carefully wrought plan, the Freedom Riders headed south to Alabama where one group
boarded a bus bound for Anniston and a second contingent headed for Bull Conner’s Birmingham.
Both trips ended in disaster. The first group had their bus fire-bombed just outside of Anniston. The second group was beaten mercilessly by a white mob in Birmingham.
Undaunted, a bold group of Freedom Riders pressed on from Birmingham to Jackson, Mississippi. Upon arrival, they were unceremoniously herded into waiting paddy wagons. A white judge turned his back as a high-minded defense attorney argued the vagaries of federal law, then sentenced the young defendants to 60 days.
Alarmed by the events spilling onto national headlines, Attorney General Robert Kennedy urged the Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC) to institute tough new measures outlawing discrimination in interstate travel.
New waves of black and white Freedom Riders, most of them college students, kept arriving in Jackson. Black Riders attempted to enter white restrooms and cafes and vice versa. Jackson authorities drew a line in the sand. Sentences for the second wave of Riders were doubled from 60 to 120 days. Two weeks into the crisis in Jackson, convicted Freedom Riders were shipped off to the notorious Parchman Plantation prison in the Mississippi Delta’s Sunflower County.
Still, they kept coming. A stalwart group of 15 Episcopal priests made national headlines by getting arrested in the Mississippi capitol. By July 6, 1961, 184 people had been arrested and the Sovereignty Commission was furiously running background checks on every one of them. A story was released linking the Riders to Fidel Castro’s Cuba.
Nothing worked. The young people kept coming. His sentence served, civil rights leader, James Farmer was released from Parchman with stories of brutal conditions. On orders from Governor Ross Barnett, prison guards dispensed with the normal routine of corporal punishment and field labor, but Riders were forced to strip naked upon arrival and subjected to lewd comments from prison guards. The midsummer heat was merciless and a single mattress was the only vestige of civilization the Riders enjoyed. When they sang gospel and freedom songs the mattresses were removed.
Still, the riders kept coming by the hundreds even though media coverage, even in the North, was distinctly negative. Ex-president, Harry Truman, likely expressed the prevailing consensus when he told reporters that the Freedom Riders were nothing but ”meddlesome intruders” who did nothing but “stir up trouble.” Emboldened by such talk, the conservative black-owned Jackson Advocate sided with state authorities and even questioned the motives and moral integrity of civil rights leaders like Martin Luther King.
Medgar Evers (right), head of the Mississippi NAACP, countered by inviting Dr. King to Jackson for a rally that drew a crowd of 1500. A few days later, alarmed Sovereignty Commission officials were warning Montgomery Sheriff Earl Partridge that a demonstration was planned for Winona.
It was a false alarm.
You could get away with demonstrations in Jackson if the national media was on hand; but Winona was a whole ’nuther story. When black Winona native Johnnie Barber attended a NAACP rally in the spring of 1961 his mother received a personal reprimand from the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission. Commission officers had traced every license plate outside the gathering.
Soon a trickle of black and white southerners were taking Freedom Rides. In late June, a group of Mississippians were arrested in Jackson for breaking segregation laws on their way out of Jackson.
By late September, the conservative ICC yielded to pressure from Robert Kennedy by issuing new, highly specific regulations barring racial discrimination in interstate bus, train and air travel. When Mississippi Delta mayors were asked by the regional press if they intended to abide by the new federal guidelines most declined comment. M.C. Billingsley of Winona showed his political naivete by telling a reporter that he hated the new regulations as much as any man in Mississippi but it was the law and he intended to abide by it.
The next day, Mayor Billingsley received a visit from Montgomery County Sheriff Earl Partidge and Tom Scarborough of the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission.
How did this liberal Yankee assault on the Southern way of life impact citizens of Winona? That’s the subject of my next post.
Civil Rights Tremors Rumble Through Montgomery County
(This post is part of a series of posts concerning the tragedy that has divided a Mississippi town. The entire series can be found here.)
Stacey’s Cafe in Winona, Mississippi did a roaring business back in 1961 when middle class southerners still traveled by bus. White patrons could order a hamburger and fries while waiting for the next bus to Memphis or New Orleans. If you were black, you had to patronize the less impressive “colored cafe” at the other end of the waiting room. There was a big neon sign over the door at the white cafe; the colored cafe was around at the back.
Early in 1961, Mississippi Sovereignty Commission Director, Albert Jones, sent agent Tom Scarborough to Winona on urgent business. A Montgomery County Negro named Johnny Frazier was telling the US Attorney in Oxford Mississippi that Montgomery County Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridge and his deputies had arrested him at the bus station and ”whipped” him in the County jail.
Tom Scarborough made regular swings through Montgomery County to make sure no Negroes had paid the poll tax or registered to vote. He was regularly informed that there was no “agitation” in the County and no Negroes were qualified to vote.
This was what Scarborough wanted to hear. Technically, Negroes could vote in the state of Mississippi if they had the inclination. The reality was quite different. Any Negro attempting to register to vote in Montgomery County would find it hard to maintain employment and might find himself in the County Jail–a charge of some kind could always be found. (The use of the term “Negro” in my writing reflects this pre-civil rights reality.)
But this Johnny Frazier business troubled the boys at the Sovereignty Commission. Frazier, a Greenville native attending Campbell College in Greenwood, Mississippi, was arrested at the Winona bus depot on August 27, 1960–long before the Freedom Riders came to Jackson. Here was a native son of Mississippi acting on his own initiative.
Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridge told Scarborough there was nothing to Frazier’s allegations.
The sheriff stated he received a call from someone stating a Negro was creating a disturbance at the bus station in Winona. Upon arriving there he said he heard Johnny Frazier talking in a loud voice, using language one would not expect to hear in a public place. He further stated he walked up to Johnny Frazier and advised him he was under arrest. He said Johnny Frazier thereupon jerked loose and attempted to get away from him and one of his deputies, but was restrained.
As far as Patridge was concerned, that was the end of the matter. But two months later, Frazier, represented by “a Negro lawyer from Vicksburg”, plead guilty and paid fines amounting to $31.50.
Then Johnny Frazier got to speak in his own voice. In September of 1961, in the wake of the furor created by the Freedom Rides, the Legal Defense Fund of the NAACP filed a civil suit in federal court against Jackson mayor, Allen Thompson. To bolster their complaint, they asked several victims of police brutality to tell their stories. The Jackson Daily News gave this account of Johnny Frazier’s testimony.
Frazier said he rode in the front section of two buses en route to his home from Atlanta, refusing bus drivers’ orders to move to the rear. At Winona, he said, Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridgeand a deputy were waiting for him. He said the deputy hit him with a blackjack and the sheriff hit him with his fists in the Trailways terminal while the driver stood by. He said a group of white persons joined the officers in the beating and that he was later jailed on a charge of disturbing the peace.
Frazier went on to work with Medgar Eversin Mississippi and became the youngest member of the NAACP national board. On December 12, 1962, two months after James Meredith entered Ole Miss, Johnny Frazier attempted to enroll in Southern Mississippi University. When the Sovereignty Commission learned of Frazier’s plans, Tom Scarborough was dispatched to Winona to dig up Frazier’s arrest records. Frazier eventually ended up in Crane Theological School at Tufts University and became a Unitarian minister.
Johnny Frazier wasn’t the only student at Campbell College in Greenwood to create problems in Winona. Johnnie Barbour first came to the attention of the Sovereignty Commission in May of 1961 when he attended an NAACP meeting in Jackson. A month later, Tom Scarborough learned from Sheriff Patridge that Barbour was evolving into a hardened agitator.
The Sheriff said that a Negro informant, who is a member of the church Johnnie pastors in Winona, which is known as Black Jack Methodist Church, told him that Johnnie Barbour was preaching all kinds of agitativedoctoring (sic) in the church–that Barbour had encouraged the Negro members of the church to register to vote and to demand their rights. He said Barbour preached there each first Sunday of the month and that even some of the Negroes who are members of Barbour’s church consider him to be a racial rabble rouser.
Tom Scarborough wasn’t that worried about agitators like Frazier and Barbour–they didn’t live in Winona and there was little chance that local Negroes would be foolish enough to follow their lead. It was the feds that troubled men like Scarborough. With each passing year the Department of Justice was getting bolder and more insistent. They rarely followed through and never went to the wall on civil rights issues, but Scarborough knew that could change.
When the Interstate Commerce Commission integrated airports and bus and rail facilities, Mississippi went on high alert. It was quickly decided that, so long as passengers could buy tickets at a common location, bus station cafes could remain segregated. When Winona Mayor M.C. Billingsleywas interviewed the day before the ICC rule it was clear he hadn’t received the memo from Jackson. “I’m for segregation 100 per cent,” the mayor told a reporter, “but it has to be done. We’re going along with what Trailways thinks is best for us. I don’t like it, but it looks like it is the best of the two evils.”
Tommy Ross, owner of Stacey’s cafe, agreed with Mayor Billingsley. “We don’t want it this way. But it looked like we had to do something so we did it.”
When Winona’s apparent intention to integrate their bus station reached the capitol, Mississippi Governor Ross Barnett was apoplectic. Tom Scarborough was dispatched to sort things out.
Arriving at the Winona Trailways bus station, Scarborough hauled out his camera and snapped twenty-five pictures which eventually found their way into the Sovereignty Commission’s massive archives. Summoned to the Trailways station, Sheriff Patridge assured Scarborough that he would “take the responsibility of seeing that the waiting room was not integrated, he was prepared to do so as Chief Law Enforcement Officer of Montgomery County.”
Scarborough didn’t like what he saw at the bus station. “The window between the white cafe and the Negro sitting room had been boarded up and painted over,” he reported. “No chairs were in the Negro waiting room. The operator of the bus terminal appeared to be highly nervous because of what had taken place in my presence. Sheriff Patridge said that Governor Barnett had called and expressed disappointment and surprise at city officals for bowing to the ICC ruling.”
That evening, the white citizens of Winona crowded into the County Courthouse for a townhallmeeting. “I was amazed and pleasantly surprised to find the court room almost filled with interested citizens representing all types of businesses and organizations,” Scarborough informed his superiors. “Everyone was in unison that no integration should be considered whatsoever in Winona or Montgomery County.”
Mayor Billingley stood before the meeting and confessed his folly. “Mayor Billingsley stated that he had made a tragic mistake in what he had told the newspapers,” Scarborough observed; “he further stated that his statements had been grossly exaggerated by the reporters.”
Scarborough admitted that the mayor’s unwise comments had given Winona an unsavory reputation in the state but concluded that it was all for the best. “The county has benefited because it has made everyone realize that each person has a responsibility in helping to resist those who would destroy our way of life by attempting to carry out governmental department orders or decees.”
It wasn’t long before the good people of Winona had a chance to show their shine. On November 4, 1961, just four days after the town hall meeting, Nathaniel and Freddie Moore, black brothers from Alton, Illinois, passed through Winona en route to Indianola. Taking the publicity about America’s integrated travel system too much to heart, the Moore brothers entered the white cafe and ordered a meal. They were immediately arrested and sentenced to four months in jail and a $200 fine. The young men called their mother in Illinois who convinced the sheriff that her boys were no Freedom Riders. Since the young men plead guilty and seemed contrite, they were released as soon as the fines were paid.
A month later, Tom Scarborough was in Winona cleaning up another mess. A Negro named Jake Daniels (aka Jake Hargrove) had complained to the FBI in nearby Greenwood that he had been “whipped” by Chief of Police Tommy Herrod, Sheriff Earl Patridge, and a number of policemen and sheriffs deputies. Everyone was bristling with denial when Scarborough interviewed them, but they admitted that the FBI had grilled them about the incident on several occasions.
Scarborough was alarmed to learn that Jake Daniels had been driven to Greenwood by his boss, L.J. Ellis. According to Ellis, “The Negro said the Sheriff, Earl Wayne Patridge, Chief of Police Tom Herrod, and policeman Bill Surrell were present.” Daniels had been arrested on public drunkenness charges and taken to the County Jail. According to the story Ellis heard, two officers came to Frazier’s cell at about 10:30 pm on the 24th of November “and took Daniels out of the jail house and carried him to the basement of the City Hall. There, he said, the Negro told him he was handcurredin a bent over manner, withhis arms between his legs witha broom handle run between his arms and behind his legs, withhis nakedness exposed, and whipped with a thick leather strap about two inches wide.”
An indignant Tom Scarborough wanted to know why Ellis would betray his community and state by carrying his Negro to the feds in Greenwood. Ellis replied that he had examined Daniel’s wounds. “The condition of the Negro infuriated him, and he felt it would do no good to talk to the local authorities any more, as he got no satisfactory answers from them when he tried to find out why Daniels was whipped about two or three times previously.”
It quickly came to light that Jake Daniels had been “whipped” by the Sheriff and his minions on earlier occasions and that the most recent beating was retaliation for having complained to the feds about earlier beatings. “Mr. Ellis said all he wanted to do was to stop the whipping of his Negroes for apparently no reason at all. He said he had also heard complaints from other white people about Negroes getting whipped by the police at Winona.”
When Scarborough challenged Ellis to name one other white person in Montgomery County who was concerned about Negroes getting whipped by police officers Ellis fell silent. Scarborough took this for a sign of insincerity but it was more an expression of futility. Ellis knew his neighbors couldn’t stand up to a man who reported directly to the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission and Governor Ross Barnett.
Tom Scarborough filed several reports related to the beating of Jake Daniels. Scanning this material it’s hard to escape the impression that even a bureaucratic thug like Scarborough was getting impatient with licensed hoodlums like Earl Wayne Patridge. Violence had its place, but with the feds prowling about there were lines even a Mississippi Sheriff couldn’t cross.
Scarborough’s concerns were justified. The beating of Jake Daniels summoned two investigators from the Department of Justice to Winona. Black citizens of Montgomery County couldn’t so much as mention voting and elections in private conversation without looking over their shoulder to see who migh be listening. Saying the wrong thing to the wrong person could lead to a beating, false arrest, or a pink slip.
Thus, when two young naifs from the DOJ showed up on his front porch, black school principal Arthur Norwood knew he would soon be getting a visit from the Sovereignty Commission. Grilled by Tom Scarborough a week later, Norwood divulged no more information than the situation demanded. There was no sense denying that the two men had dropped by–the whole neighborhood was buzzing about it. Scarborough’s report is illuminating:
He said he was asked why he was not voting as he had a BS degree and MA degree (sic) . . . Norwood and his daddy (Charlie Norwood) were once qualified voters in Montgomery County. He said at the time he voted in Montgomery County he was teaching school in the colored Winona City school. He said he was fired from his position by the colored principal, J.A. Knox who told him at the time he could not re-employ him for the reason Norwood had gone to school to New York University and had been indoctrinated with communistic ideology and communistic theories. He said he removed his name from the voting register in Montgomery County. Norwood said he later got a position in Oktibbeha County, but rumors soon spread over there that he was a commie. Thus, he stated, he was placed under surveillance by the principal, Ezell Wicks for several months. Norwood said Ezell Wicks told him the Citizens’ Council in Winona had relayed the information over to the Citizens’ Council in Oktibbeha County that he (Norwood) was teaching communistic theories.
Throughout Mississippi, the small educated black community was deeply divided over the proper response to the official white policy of “massive resistance” to integration. Many, like J.A. Knox, embraced segregation because it made them feel safe. So long as they were betraying their radical cousins and living down to white stereotype the chances of trouble were minimal. Arthur Norwood couldn’t afford to embrace or overtly reject segregation. A militatant stance would destroy his tenuous career as a black educator; complete capitulation meant spiritual death.
The men from the Justice Department grilled Norwood about his voting patterns and expressed amazement when the principal told them he had voted for Senator Eastland (a notorious race baiter) because Eastland “had seniority”. The feds asked Norwood about police violence but the school principal wouldn’t rise to the bait. According to Scarborough’s report, the boys from Washington “asked (Norwood) if he could get a group of Negroes to go to the Circuit Clerks Office to register to vote. He said that he did not care to undertake such a mission as he was afraid he might lose his job”.
Principal Norwood made no secret of the fact that he was good friends with Aaron Henry and Dr. E.J. Stringer, two prominent members of the Mississippi NAACP. In his synopsis, Scarborough shared his suspicions about the Negro educator. ”It is my thinking that Aaron Henry, Dr. E.J. Stringer or Norwood himself complained to the Justice Department abut Negroes not being able to vote in Montgomery County.” Norwood, Scarborough told his superiors, “can be suspected of agitating in the future. I discussed this matter with authorities in Montgomery County. They too share my thinking in this matter.”
As principal Norwood and mayor Billingsely illustrate, no one in Montgomery County could speak independently on any subject touching on race. The slightest deviation from militant segregation was sure to be punished. If it took wanton violence to uphold a precious way of life men like Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridge were willing to do what must be done. In fact, they rather enjoyed it.
The Greenwood Movement
(This post is part of a series of posts concerning the tragedy that has divided a Mississippi town. The entire series can be found here.)

In 1962, Montgomery County, Mississippi could still boast that not a single Negro had registered to vote or paid the poll tax. Tom Scarborough of the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission took great comfort in this statistic and checked periodically with County officials to reassure himself that it was still so.
But in the early days of 1963, neither Scarborough nor the civic leaders he interviewed in Winona were finding it easy to sleep at night. The Freedom Rides of 1961were the first sign that Mississippi’s “massive resistance” to integration was running up against massive resistance of a different sort. Then black college students from nearby LeFlore County started preaching civil rights from Winona pulpits and asking to be served at the white Stacey’s restaurant at the Winona bus station. Winona had its Negroes under control, but thirty miles to the west, the cotton town of Greenwood was in turmoil.
There had been a long history of civil rights agitation in the Mississippi Delta where blacks outnumbered whites three to one. But when strange characters like the bookish Bob Moses (pictured to the left) and yarmulke-wearing James Bevel started speaking in Greenwood’s churches something new was afoot.
Gaining a foothold in Greenwood wasn’t easy. Mississippi’s White Citizen’s Council was headquartered in the community and, seven years earlier, Emmett Till had been murdered just up the road in the LeFlore County town of Money. Civil Rights workers like Moses and Bevel had a hard time getting the local black pastors to open their churches–you couldn’t keep a secret like that from the Citizen’s Council. LeFlore County was 70% black, but 90% of that population was illiterate. (To vote you had to pass a test on the Mississippi constitution . . . if you were black). Worse still, the economy was in a shambles and, in the countryside, poor sharecroppers were literally starving to death. The situation grew desperate when LeFlore County officials flexed their muscles by blocking federal food surplus shipments.
After eight months of direct action in Greenwood, only fifty Negroes had registered to vote.
Then, in February of 1963, someone set fire to the modest SNCC (Student Nonviolent Co0rdinating Committee) offices in Greenwood. When Sam Block, one of the young civi rights activists working in LeFlore County, accused local leaders of arson he was arrested for “statements calculated to breach the peace.” It was the seventh time Block had been arrested in Greenwood. A few days later a judge found him guilty but offered to toss the case if Block would abandon his organizing activities and leave town. “Judge,” the young man replied, “I ain’t gonna do none of that.”
Block was sentenced to six months and that night 250 crowded into a mass meeting. Bob Moses used Sam Block’s sacrifice to shame and inspire his audience. The next day, 150 people followed Moses to the LeFlore County courthouse in yet another futile attempt to register black voters.
A few days later, a young activist named Jimmy Travis was shot in the neck as he drove his car to nearby Sunflower County. Bob Moses took the wheet and drove the wounded man to a hospital in Jackson, the nearest medical facility willing to treat a black activist.
The shooting of Jimmy Travis touched off a chain reaction. Off in Yankeeland, the folk revival was in full swing and Bob Dylan’s “Blowing in the Wind” (interpreted by the more refined Peter, Paul and Mary) was number one on the charts. Pete Seeger grabbed Dylan and took him down to Greenwood for an impromptu concert. As the picture to the right suggests, only a handful of people showed up for the show, but it helped put Greenwood on the map. More significantly, Martin Luther King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) sent the articulate and dignified Annell Ponder to teach basic literacy and voter registration classes in Greenwood.
Soon Yankee reporters were on the streets of Greenwood chatting up the locals. According to Taylor Branch, a white Greenwood resident summed up the situation for the media in blood-chilling terms: “We killed two-month old Indian babies to take this country, and now they want us to give it away to the niggers.”
Making the most of the momentum, Bob Moses led hundreds of Greenwood residents to the LeFlore courthouse where they were met by every lawman in the county, the mayor, and a pack of snarling dogs. The next morning the headline in the New York Times read, “Police Loose Dog on Negroes’ Group, Minister is Bitten.” John Kennedy saw the headline and rested his head in his hands.
The situation in Greenwood escalated when Bob Moses, James Forman and six other activists were sentenced to four months in prison. They decided they could hurt the opposition more by serving out the sentence than by filing an appeal. Comedian Dick Gregory arrived in Greenwood to lecture local whites and put on a show for the press. A picture of the defiant comic with a snarlin cop twisting one arm behind his back graced the front page of the Times the following day.
As John Doar of the Justice Department worked behind the scenes to get the sentences of the eight civil rights workers reduced, James Bevel (pictured below in front of the light bulb cross) stepped in to fill the leadership void. 
When the Greenwood fire department devoted their fire hoses to the segregation fight, Bevel approached the fire chief. “There’s a fire going on inside us, baby,” he said, “but you can’t put it out.”
A few days later, the eight civil rights workers were released from jail. John Doar had worked out a deal in which local officials agreed to drop the charges and re-institute the surplus food program. Bob Moses was devastated to learn that voting rights for Mississippi Negroes wasn’t part of the deal.
John Doar’s deal delighted President Kennedy but it took the fire out of the Greenwood Movement. Dick Gregory left town and the mass meetings shrivelled to a tenth their former size. But as the prime locus of the civil rights movement shifted back to Martin Luther King and Birmingham, the work went on quietly in Greenwood. Annell Ponder was teaching semi-illiterate Delta Negroes like Fannie Lou Hamer how to read, how to write, how to pass the registration test and how to pass this knowledge on to others.
No one could have knew it at the time, but a stout, gospel singing, forty-seven year-old black woman was fixing to turn America upside down. In the process, she would make little Winona, Mississippi an enduring symbol of Jim Crow tyranny.
Fannie Lou Hamer’s Spiritual Warfare
Fannie Lou Hamer was born in Montgomery County Mississippi in 1917, the last of Jim and Ella Townsend’s twenty children. At the age of two, her parents moved to a plantation outside of Ruleville in Sunflower County. The price of cotton was rising rapidly after the First World War and the thickly wooded land across Sunflower County was being cleared for new farms. From the age of six, Fannie Lou, like her parents and grandparents before her, worked as a sharecropper. Her father once came close to buying a few acres of his own, but a white neighbor poisoned his mule, an economic blow from which the family would never recover.
Plantation life was hard even during the best of years; in hard times families waged a relentless war with starvation. Hamer remembered her mother wrapping her feet in old rags so she and her sisters could salvage the cotton the pickers had missed.
Mississippi sharecroppers owed their souls to the company store. Wages were kept low, prices at the plantation store were artificially high and the money loaned to sharecroppers at planting time sometimes exceeded the profits accrued at harvest. Entire families labored in the fields from “can-to-can’t”: from first light until it was too dark to work. Cotton season covered nine or ten months of the year and field workers used the layoff between seasons to recover physically and emotionally. Schools for African-American children were poorly equipped and understaffed. Classes were suspended when students were needed in the fields. Fannie Lou Hamer ended her school days barely able to read and write, but that was more than could be said for most of her peers. Although Fannie Lou could pick almost as much cotton as a man, childhood polio made the work increasingly difficult. At the age of 16, impressed with her intelligence, plantation owner W.D. Marlow gave Fannie Lou a job as timekeeper.
In 1945, she married Perry “Pap” Hamer. The couple had no children because Fannie Lou had been sterilized (without her knowledge or permission) in accordance with a Mississippi policy designed to reduce the number of indigent children in the state.
Hamer was introduced to the fledgling civil rights movement in the early 1950s when she attended annual conferences of the Regional Council of Negro Leadership (RCNL) sponsored by T.R.M. Howard, a wealthy African-American physician. The RCNL had a top-down organizing strategy designed to empower educated African-American leaders, but the annual meetings in the all-black town of Mound Bayou frequently drew 10,000 people from across Mississippi. In the early 50’s the focus was on making the “equal” in “separate but equal” mean something; full integration wasn’t considered a realistic (or safe) goal at that point. But the RCNL conferences drew speakers like Thurgood Marshall and performers like Mahalia Jackson and nurtured young leaders like Aaron Henry and Medgar Evers who would lead the fight for civil rights in Mississippi when Dr. Howard, intimidated by death threats, packed his bags and headed for Chicago.
Fannie Lou Hamer was still working as W.D. Marlow’s timekeeper on August 23, 1962 when she attended a civil rights meeting in Ruleville featuring the Rev. James Bevel. An associate of Martin Luther King Jr., Bevel was working with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC). When Bevel called for volunteer’s to register to vote at the county courthouse in Indianola, Hamer’s hand shot into the air.
A week later, Hamer and a small group of volunteers drove from Ruleville to Indianola in a rented bus. Black people who attempted to register in the Mississippi Delta could expect to lose their jobs and possibly their lives. “I guess if I’d had any sense, I’d have been a little scared,” she said years later, “but what was the point of being scared? The only thing they could do was kill me, and it seemed they’d been trying to do that a little bit at a time since I could remember.” Hamer encouraged the group by breaking into well-known church songs like “This Little Light of Mine” and “Go Tell it On the Mountain.” As Fannie Lou’s powerful voice filled the bus, her companions joined in.
Hamer’s experience at the Indianola courthouse was life-changing. Only a handful of the people were allowed to enter the courthouse, the rest were turned away. Once inside, the fortunate few were shown a portion of the state constitution and asked to interpret it for the registrar. Until that moment, Hamer didn’t know that Mississippi had a constitution. Informed that she had failed the test, Hamer announced her intention to return to Indianola every month until she passed. On the way back to Ruleville, the group was intimidated by state troopers who claimed their bus was ”too yellow”.
Back on the plantation, Hamer learned that Mr. Marlow was looking for her. The cotton planter informed his timekeeper that Mississippi wasn’t ready for voting Negroes. Therefore, if she didn’t go back to Indianola and withdraw her application she and her family would have to leave his farm. Marlow’s threats were understandable. No cotton man who allowed his Negroes to vote could maintain a place in white Delta society.
To Marlow’s amazement, Hamer quit her job on the spot. She and Pap stayed with friends for a few days, but when their location was discovered the home was strafed with bullets. Still Hamer refused to back down. It wasn’t long before civil rights leader Bob Moses was looking for “the lady who sings the hymns.” Hamer started attending classes led by Annelle Ponder, a twenty-six year-old school teacher from Atlanta who had recently joined the freedom struggle in Sunflower County. Under Ponder’s tutelage, Hamer learned the Mississippi Constitution well enough to pass the registration test. Soon, Hamer was being invited to sing at rallies and fundraising events across the country.
Fannie Lou Hamer’s hymn singing and natural eloquence were a boon to the civil rights movement, especially in Mississippi. Bookish leaders like Moses and Bevel were more comfortable debating the fine points of Reinhold Niebuhr’s theology or the tenets of Gandhian pacifism than they were connecting with semi-illiterate Mississippi sharecroppers. Fannie Lou Hamer’s melodious voice bridged the cultural gap between movement leaders and their intended audience.
But Hamer had far more to offer the movement than a powerful singing voice and a folksy manner; she was a prophet in the full biblical sense of the word. Hamer’s religion was personal, emotional and supernatural. She took her Bible straight, unmediated by the ”chicken-eating” black preachers she endured on Sunday mornings or the learned theologians who informed movement intellectuals. Hamer was convinced that God was working through the civil rights movement to usher in the Kingdom of God Jesus talked about. Her favorite Bible passage was from the 4th chapter of Luke’s Gospel:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind; to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.
Fannie Lou Hamer made this mission her own and was never comfortable with more realistic goals. “If Christ were here today,” she said, ”he would be branded a radical, a militant, and would probably be branded as ‘red’. They have even painted me as Communist, although I wouldn’t know a Communist if I saw one.”
Hamer cooperated with every phase of the civil rights movement, from the conservative NAACP to the Black Panthers. But when the SNCC began evicting white members from leadership positions, Hamer mounted a powerful protest. “Jesus wasn’t talking about black people, or about white people,” she said, “he was talking about people. There’s no difference in people, for in the 17th chapter of the Book of Acts, the 26th verse, Paul says, ‘God hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth.’ That means that whether we’re white, black, red, yellow, or polka dot, we’re made from the same blood.”
Hamer transcended petty politics by interpreting the freedom struggle in supernatural and cosmological terms. When the going was tough and emotions within the movement ran high, Hamer would quote Ephesians 6:11-12: “Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against spiritual wickedness in high places.”
The language of spiritual warfare allowed Hamer to interpret the cruelty of her opponents as an unavoidable aspect of a God-driven transformational drama that she saw sweeping over the nation. This blending of biblical piety and revolutionary spirit helped Hamer and her companions stand firm in the face of bestial cruelty. In June of 1963, less than a year after she won the right to vote, Fannie Lou Hamer found herself in the Montgomery County Jail in Winona, Mississippi. What happened in that dark place would stretch her soul to the breaking point and change America forever.
“Songs got us through”: Fannie Lou Hamer in Winona
Fannie Lou Hamer never recovered from the beating she suffered in the county jail in Winona, Mississippi. A blood clot eliminated vision in one eye. Severe damage to her kidneys shaved decades off her life.
The sadistic brutality Hamer and her friends endured in Winona beggars comprehension unless you understand the times. In 1963, only 6.4% of Mississippi’s eligible black voters were registered. In Montgomery County it had been years since the last African-American had voted. It took men like Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridge to maintain this unnatural state of affairs.
Patridge took office in a violent time. His predecessor, Lawrence King, had paid two black men to kill one of his deputies, William L. Kelly. King had been sleeping with Kelly’s wife and wanted to eliminate the competition.
By the time Fannie Lou Hamer arrived in Winona on June 11, 1963, Patridge was skilled at bending violence to his purpose. A young black man named Jake Daniels was savagely beaten by police officers on at least two occasions, most recently just months before Hamer came to town in 1963. A year earlier, Patridge and his officers beat up a young black man named Johnnie Frazier shortly after the Interstate Commerce Commission (in theory) integrated bus stations across the South. Frazier figured that federal law applied in the State of Mississippi so he tried to eat at Stacey’s Cafe, a whites-only establishment serving patrons at Winona’s Trailways depot. These are the acts of violence that drew the attention of the Federal Justice Department–there were almost certainly other beatings that went unreported.
Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridge had a rule: Any nigger dumb enough to challenge Jim Crow in Montgomery County got a whipping–no exceptions.
On June 9, 1963, Fannie Lou Hamer and several other civil rights workers were returning from a trip to Septima Clark’s citizenship school in Charleston, South Carolina. When they changed buses just over the Mississippi line, the group, still brimming with righteous fervor, insisted on sitting at the front of the bus. The driver forcibly drove the group to their proper place at the rear, then phoned ahead to Winona. When the troop arrived in Montgomery County, Earl Wayne Patridge, several of his deputies and a state trooper were waiting for them.
Hamer stayed on the bus while her companions attempted to get service in Stacey’s Cafe. When the group was driven from the diner by force, Annelle Ponder, a stately school teacher from Atlanta, started taking down the license plate numbers of the police cars parked outside the depot.
Looking out the bus window, Hamer could see her friends being herded into police cars. Rushing to the rescue, Fannie Lou was kicked in the shins by a sheriff’s deputy and taken into custody.
Six travelers were arrested on June 9. 1963: Annelle Ponder, Fannie Lou Hamer, 15-year-old June Johnson of Greenwood, young SNCC activist Euvester Simpson from Ita Bena, James West, and Rosemary Freeman. June Johnson was the first to experience the wrath of Sheriff Patridge and his boy. Stripped naked, she was smacked around the interrogation room until her face was a mask of blood. There was an element of sexual sadism at work; a celebration of power and dominance that trumped simple lust.
Next, the men in uniform dragged in Annelle Ponder, the woman who intended to report them to the authorities. They wanted Ponder to call them “sir”. She told them she didn’t know them well enough to know whether they deserved that courtesy. Smacked hard across the face, Ponder collapsed to the floor. The men dragged her back to her feet and once again she was told to call her tormentors “sir”. When she refused outright, a hail of blows drove her back to the floor.
Hovering on the margins of consciousness, Ponder called out to God to forgive her tormentors. There were enough Baptists in the room to catch the biblical reference: “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”
Outraged by such uppity blasphemy, Patridge and his boys beat Ms. Ponder senseless and dragged her back to her cell.
Next they came for Fannie Lou Hamer.
“Where you from?” an officer asked.
“I’m from Ruleville,” she answered quietly.
“We’ll see about that,” the man replied with a sneer. A call to Sunflower County revealed that Hamer was a seasoned agitator famous for singings gospel songs at civil rights rallies.
You can’t understand the species of rage on display in the Montgomery County Jail unless you remember what was happening in America in the spring and summer of 1963. A month earlier, student protesters in Birmingham, Alabama (just a few hours from Winona) had been attacked by police dogs. The home of Mississippi NAACP field secretary Medgar Evers had been fire bombed around the same time, and at the University of Alabama, Governor George Wallace was shouting, “Segregation forever” to cheering crowds as he threatened to bar a black student from enrolling at the state university.
Men like Earl Wayne Patridge were under seige; winning every battle,yet losing the war.
The deputy returned from running the identity check on Fannie Lou Hamer and flashed a malicious grin. “You’re from Ruleville, all right,” he said, “and now we’re gonna make you wish you was dead.”
This was no idle threat. After dishing out two vicious beatintgs the men in the interrogation room had were growing weary. Two black inmates were brought into the room, handed weapons and told that they better do what they had been told or there would be hell to pay. Using black men to do the dirty work was an old Mississippi standby. Black men were sometimes used to light the pire at lynchings and, as we have seen, ex-sheriff Lawrence King had hired two black men to do in his deputy.
The first inmate was handed a cosh, a lead pipe encased in leather with a flexible handle. Instinctively, Fannie Lou Hamer rolled onto her belly. She had suffered from polio as a child and hoped to protect her weak side from what was coming.
As the blows rained down, Hamer started moving her feet and the second inmate sat on her legs to keep her still. Her dress had started working up her leg and Hamer tried valiantly to pull it down. A deputy stepped forward and pulled the dress all the way up. When Hamer told her Winona story she always included this humiliating detail. She didn’t use fancy words like ”sexual sadism”. She didn’t have to.
When the inmate with the cosh grew tired, the two men switched places. The beating went on and on until Hamer’s flesh had crowd hard and grotesque cuts and gashes covered her body. Hamer was ordered to get up. She couldn’t move and had to be dragged back to her cell.
Through a hellish night, young Euvester Simpson did everything in her power to keep her cellmale alive. Years later, Simpson shared this account with an interviewer:
I sat up all night with her applying cold towels and things to her face and hands trying to get her fever down and to help some of the pain go away. And the only thing that got us through that was that … we sang. We sang all night. I mean songs got us through so many things, and without that music I think many of us would have just lost our minds or lost our way completely.
In the early sixties, jailers in small towns generally lived in the jail with the inmates. I have often wondered what the jailer felt when they heard muted songs of praise drifting through the cell block. A day or two after the beating, Hamer told the jailer’s wife to read Proverbs 26:26: “Whose hatred is covered by deceit, his wickedness shall be showed before the whole congregation.” She also suggested Acts 17:26, the verse declaring that God “hath made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on the face of the earth.”
The woman dutifully jotted down the biblical references, but the two women never met again.
Meanwhile, Martin Luther King and the rest of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference staff in Atlanta were learning that five of their people had disappeared in Winona. Hours later, news of the arrests arrived in the White House. Dogs and bombings in Birmingham, Governor Wallace’s stand for segregation and the disappearance of civil rights workers in Mississippi made it impossible for President John Kennedy to maintain his neutrality. While Fannie Lou Hamer and Euvester Simpson subsisted on a diet of gospel songs, Kennedy told his aids he was going on national television. The speech, written almost entirely by Kennedy himself, was the most candid engagement with American racism any US president had ever made.
We preach freedom around the world, and we mean it, and we cherish our freedom here at home, but are we to say to the world, and much more importantly, to each other that this is the land of the free except for the Negroes; that we have no second-class citizens except Negroes; that we have no class or caste system, no ghettoes, no master race except with respect to Negroes?
Now the time has come for this Nation to fulfill its promise. The events in Birmingham and elsewhere have so increased the cries for equality that no city or State or legislative body can prudently choose to ignore them. The fires of frustration and discord are burning in every city, North and South, where legal remedies are not at hand. Redress is sought in the streets, in demonstrations, parades, and protests which create tensions and threaten violence and threaten lives.
We face, therefore, a moral crisis as a country and a people. It cannot be met by repressive police action. It cannot be left to increased demonstrations in the streets. It cannot be quieted by token moves or talk. It is a time to act in the Congress, in your State and local legislative body and, above all, in all of our daily lives. It is not enough to pin the blame on others, to say this a problem of one section of the country or another, or deplore the facts that we face. A great change is at hand, and our task, our obligation, is to make that revolution, that change, peaceful and constructive for all. Those who do nothing are inviting shame, as well as violence. Those who act boldly are recognizing right, as well as reality.
America would never be the same.
Sheriff Patridge has a Problem
Sheriff Earl Patridge had a problem. Seven black agitators, five of them beaten within an inch of their lives, were locked in his jailhouse. It would take just one complaint and the feds would come sniffing around. They always did. Twelve hours after the arrest at the Winona Trailways Depot a passel of black agitators from Greenwood had come looking for their friends. The sheriff’s men arrested Lawrence Guyot, a powerfully built civil rights leader, and used every trick in the book to goad the big man into violent resistance. Guyot wouldn’t call his captors “Sir” but refused to take the bait. Patridge’s men beat their prisoner mercilessly. One officer pulled out a blow torch and threatened to burn off the black man’s testicles. When a physician warned that they would soon have a corpse on their hands the beating finally ended. Now Guyot was in solitary confinement. His face was a mass of cuts and bruises and his eyes were swollen shut.
But what was Patridge supposed to do? Every last person in Montgomery County shared his outrage, of that he had no doubt. When the agitators tried to order a meal at the white-only diner, the waitress had flung her order pad against the wall shrieking, “I can’t take no more!” And who could blame her? An entire way of life was hanging by a thread. Earl Wayne Patridge saw his men as shock troopers standing in the breach for white supremacy, democracy and Christian decency.
Patridge didn’t know what to do with Fannie Lou Hamer, Annelle Ponder and the rest. He couldn’t hold them forever. He couldn’t kill them. Some of his men had encouraged escape by leaving cells wide open but the disciplined inmates knew that anyone trying to escape would get a bullet in the back. Two days after the civil rights activists were arrested, they were charged with creating a disturbance and resisting arrest. Then Patridge had them dragged (many were still too bruised and bloody to walk) in front of a Winona judge. Five of the six entered not-guilty pleas before being returned to their cells.
Then, just after midnight, somebody down in Jackson put a bullet through Medgar Evers, the NAACP field secretary. Evers needed killing, the sheriff believed, but the timing was bad. With a new martyr to fuss about, all eyes would be on Mississippi and that meant the feds might take an interest in Montgomery County. On the other hand, with the press crowing about the NAACP radical, maybe they would ignore little Winona. Besides, the newspapers were focused on George Wallace and his standoff with the feds at the University of Alabama. The goons from Bobby Kennedy’s Justice Department couldn’t be everywhere at once.
When Patridge arrived at his office on Wednesday, June 12th, he saw a young black woman sitting in a parked car reading “The Prophet” by Kahlil Gibran. The sheriff stepped inside and spied a couple of upscale Negroes waiting in the lobby. The woman in the car was Dorothy Cotton (pictured above at the right). The men were Andrew Young and James Bevel, two of Martin Luther Kings SCLC workers.
Seconds later, a man from the FBI (the sheriff’s brother-in-law) stomped into the room wearing a nervous, distracted look. Normally, Patridge didn’t worry about the FBI. J. Edgar Hoover was death on the civil rights movement and most G-men shared that sentiment. But they had to work with the Justice Department boys and Bobby Kennedy was blowing hot and cold. One minute you thought the Attorney General understood the South, the next minute he’d start kissing up to King and his boys.
Martin Luther King had asked Andrew Young and James Bevel to drive to Winona to see what had become of Famer, Ponder and company. Dorothy Cotton insisted on joining the rescue party but Young said this was no work for a woman. Cotton refused to back down and since she had the keys to the only available car her male companions were forced to let her drive. Once they hit the Mississippi line, Cotton hit the gas pedal hard. The car was doing at least 90 mph when she swerved onto the shoulder to avoid an ongoing semi-trailer. When the threesome recovered from shock, Young grabbed the keys and this time Cotton didn’t protest.
Uncertain how to approach a lawman they believed to be crazy, Young and Bevel exchanging small talk. This generally put white folks at ease. The two SCLC veterans knew that white people were more intimidated by these encounters than they were–and they were so frightened it was hard to breathe.
Just as the two men were running out of idle chit-chat one of Dr. King’s lawyers called from Birmingham. It was Wiley Branton, a black attorney with a knack for sounding like a white man over the phone.
A little good-natured back-and-forth with Branton convinced Patridge to let his prisoners go if the two Negroes in his waiting room could produce $300 in cash for every body in custody. They could. The sheriff was holding Guyot in solitary confinement so he couldn’t infect his other prisoners with his communist ideas; but the others were released.
Young, Bevel and Cotton gasped in unison when the prisoners hobbled into the room. Bernice Robinson, an SNCC worker who saw the women later that day, was appalled by their condition. “They were a horrible sight,” she later recalled. “Annelle Ponder’s eyes were swollen and bloodshot from the beatings and one hip was swollen twice the size of the other. Mrs. Hamer had bruises all over her head, and her hips were bruised black. June Johnson’s head was all bruised, and her lip cut. James West’s face was swollen, and hips bruised. Lawrence Guyot was beaten so badly he couldn’t use one of his arms and for several hours couldn’t even be located. He was held incommunicado. He was finally released on Thursday. Annelle Ponder whispered one word as she left the jail: ‘Freedom!’”
The beating victims broke down and wept when they learned that their friend Medgar Evers had been killed. Evers worked for the NAACP but he cooperated with all the other civil rights organizations as much as the situation allowed. Martin Luther King attended Evers’ funeral but the NAACP brass refused to let him speak. The photogenic orator had become the face of the civil rights movement and was deeply resented by leaders outside his own SCLC. King had an awkward picture taken with Roy Wilkens of the NAACP as a gesture of solidarity, then jumped on the plane back to Birmingham.
As s0on as the media feeding frenzy surrounding the Evers funeral subsided, Bobby Kennedy’s Justice Department did a thorough investigation of the Winona incident. They wanted to indict the perpetrators but not a single District Attorney in the state of Mississippi was willing to examine the evidence. Finally, Kennedy decided to file federal charges against Montgomery County Sheriff Earl Wayne Patridge, Thomas J. Herrod, Winona Chief of Police, William Surrell, city policeman, John S. Bosinger, Mississippi Highway patrolman, and Thomas Perkins, ex-Mississippi Highway patrolman.
On November 13, 1963, Tom Scarborough from the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission drove to Winona to interview the defendants. He told them that Governor Paul Johnson was convinced of their innocence. Everyone knows, Scarborough assured the Sheriff, that communist agitators will say whatever serves their purpose.
Nine days later, President John Kennedy was gunned down in Dallas. When the defendants went to trial in a federal courtroom in Oxford, Mississippi two weeks after Kennedy died only a few movement people were paying attention. The federal judge praised the defendants from the bench and was overheard ranting loudly about “these niggers”.
An all-white, all-male jury took just a few minutes to return not-guilty verdicts.
Eight months would pass before national attention returned to little Winona, Mississippi. Those eight months felt like eight years.






[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Prom Night in Mississippi « Friends of Justice on July 27, 2009
at 11:38 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Friends of Justice on July 29, 2009
at 6:24 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Strange Doings in Magnolia Country « Friends of Justice on July 30, 2009
at 4:43 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: A House Divided « Friends of Justice on July 30, 2009
at 4:44 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Daily Kos Poll shows the Birther movement is a southern thing « Friends of Justice on August 1, 2009
at 1:38 am
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: The Antichrist World of the Mississippi Sovereignty Commission « Friends of Justice on August 7, 2009
at 9:39 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: “Meddlesome Intruders”: the Freedom Riders hit Jackson, Mississippi « Friends of Justice on August 11, 2009
at 7:12 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Civil Rights tremors rumble through Montgomery County « Friends of Justice on August 22, 2009
at 2:23 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: The Greenwood Movement « Friends of Justice on September 1, 2009
at 10:15 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: The shallow graves of Mississippi « Friends of Justice on October 1, 2009
at 2:36 am
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Praying for the President in a Southern town « Friends of Justice on October 2, 2009
at 5:16 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Doug Evans and the Mississippi Mainstream « Friends of Justice on October 20, 2009
at 12:44 am
Has anyone added up the total cost of all these trials? Has anyone thought about he has had 5 trials and found guilty in all but one because of the evidence? This is not a black white thing, this is about rather a man shot and killed four people. Could all the juries be wrong that is a lot of people. And this is black and white juries. Total all of the jury (60) and only ONE said not guilty. That is 59 – 1. Please, this man is Guilty, stop costing the law abiding citizens all this money and finish this.
By: Tom Franklin on October 21, 2009
at 6:34 pm
If the theory of the murders were in fact that it was a hit then why? She was not involved in activity that would cause a hit. And I am sure all the trials have brought up different theories of this case. Let the people on the jury make the decesion of guilt and innocents. According to facts not theory.
By: Tom Franklin on October 21, 2009
at 6:44 pm
Tom:
Thanks for checking in. You raise two issues: the judgement of juries and the absence of a motive for a hit. I will consider these in order.
1. Jury issues. Please don’t forget the jury in trial #4, the only trial in which at least a third of the jury was African American. Jury composition is of critical importance. Studies have shown that if less than one-third of a jury is minority minority jurors tend to vote with the majority; but it at least one-third of jurors are minority they tend to vote together. This is only true, of course, in highly ambiguous cases. In trial #4 there were five (5) black jurors and EVERY LAST ONE OF THEM voted to acquit. Most of the other trials featured all-white juries or had a single minority juror. In trial #5, two black jurors wanted to give the white jurors a guilty verdict in exchange for taking the death penalty off the table (this is clear from post trial interviews).
This means that if Mr. Flowers had an all-black jury, whether in Winona, Jackson or anywhere else in Mississippi, it would be impossible to convict him on the present evidence. On the other hand, virtually any white jury would convict–in that you are correct. The question is whether it is the black or the white jurors who are being less than objective?
Why are white jurors so easily convinced by evidence this shoddy and contradictory? Good question. I’m still trying to figure that one out. The racial history of Mississippi explains why white and black Winona residents see this case so differently and this is why trial #4 is the really illuminating result.
Read what I say about Porky Collins testimony and its implications for the bloody footprint evidence. This is a new argument and I find it very persuasive. How about you?
Now for the theory of the crime. I have no idea why anyone would want to put out a hit on Bertha Tardy and I have no intention of engaging in idle speculation. All I know is that this killing has all the markings of a professional hit: execution-style killing; a high level of efficiency; no physical evidence left at the scene; cold hearted ruthlessness with no sign of passion. None of this suggests a killing pulled off by an enraged former employee.
Are there folks on the street who would kill four people over $82. Sure there are. But no one who knows Curtis Flowers believes he is that kind of person. And if the motive was $82 in backpay, why was there a check for the full amount on Bertha Tardy’s desk? If Curtis was the killer, and his desire to retrieve his $82 was the motive, he would have kept his gun in his pocket and demanded his money. Bertha Tardy would have retrieved the check and that would have been that. But this killer didn’t do any talking. He likely shot Ms. Tardy in the head from behind without a word of warning. Then, when the three other employees arrived on the scene, the killer was able to control the room in a way that neither you nor I could do. It isn’t easy for a single gunman to force three people (two of them male) to passively submit to an execution. That’s why I suggest that we are dealing with either a highly experienced professional killer or two gunmen. It isn’t a matter of proving that I am right. I can’t do that because I wasn’t present. The question is whether my theory explains the evidence better than Doug Evans’ theory–and I believe it does.
By: alanbean on October 21, 2009
at 7:41 pm
I am appalled at some of the things I have been reading regarding this trail of Curtis Flowers. I would like to know why hasn’t Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton been to Mississippi to sit in on at least one of Mr Flowers trials? I feel as if I am witnessing things that happened when I was a small child in Montgomery County.
By: Jean on October 21, 2009
at 9:27 pm
Jean:
What did happen when you were a small child in Montgomery County? I’d like to hear your story. Whatever it was, it has a lot to do with what is happening now. Mssrs. Jackson and Sharpton have no way of knowing about the Flowers case because, until Friends of Justice got involved, nobody in the advocacy community was paying attention. Jackson and Sharpton exploit cases that emerge in the national media; Friends of Justice brings cases to national attention.
By: alanbean on October 21, 2009
at 10:12 pm
Happened upon website and am reading, re-reading and processing information. What happened to Ms. Hamer? Will share and encourage my family, black and white, to read all. Personally, don’t like JJ because agree he exploits situations and lied about relationship w/MLK. Much prefer stories from and about grassroots heroes and want others to hear, too.
Thankyou, thankyou Mr. Bean.
By: Fey Gipson on November 23, 2009
at 7:26 pm
Thanks, Fey. I will be writing about Fannie Lou Hamer’s experience in Winona in the next few days . . . stay posted.
By: alanbean on November 24, 2009
at 4:16 pm
You might be interested to hear that there is an article on the BBC News website about Curtis Flowers, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/8377236.stm . I see that (thankfully) James Bibbs is no longer facing perjury charges.
By: Joffan on November 26, 2009
at 9:00 pm
This story is just hitting the UK – we thought you guys were over all that racist carp. Paints some in a very bad light man. I sure hope Curtis get the justice he deserves and the guys trying to set him up get done for attempted murder – that is what they are trying to do – murder an innocent man.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/8377236.stm
By: Cook on November 27, 2009
at 12:15 am
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: “Songs got us through”: Fannie Lou Hamer in Winona « Friends of Justice on December 10, 2009
at 9:59 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Race and Grace in the Magnolia State « Friends of Justice on December 18, 2009
at 6:48 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Vengeance in the courtroom « Friends of Justice on December 30, 2009
at 1:41 am
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: White Power USA « Friends of Justice on January 14, 2010
at 7:56 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Curtis Flowers: a quick introduction « Friends of Justice on January 23, 2010
at 3:42 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Perry gets away with it « Friends of Justice on January 27, 2010
at 8:53 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: St. Tammany Tragedy: The Kelvin Kaigler Story « Friends of Justice on January 29, 2010
at 11:32 pm
[...] Curtis Flowers [...]
By: Flowers bill passes Mississippi Senate « Friends of Justice on February 4, 2010
at 10:26 pm