Monroe County Murder

Acknowledgments

Historical research for this book came from many sources, including but not limited to The National Archives, Alaska Command Army Archives, "Pioneer Road" by Donna Blasor-Bernhardt(2004), "Pillar of Fire: America in the King Years 1963-65 by Taylor Branch (1998), The Gray Book by The Gray Book Committee (1920) and William E. Griggs, The World War II Black Regiment That Built the Alaska Military Highway… "Building the Alaska Highway," American Experience, PBS, 2005

I would like to thank all the teachers in Amory High School and my instructors at Mississippi State and Jackson State University for the education they provided. It has served me well as a basis for all my pursuits in my adult life. Yes, I still owe you some homework.

INTRODUCTION

The Mississippi Summer of 1964 was hot and humid in more than one way. The heat would almost take your breath away when you walked outside. For a boy of 15 with a new Mississippi driver license in his blue jeans pocket and a World War ll Jeep, life was about as good as it gets. Not bad for a good ole boy. June of 1964 was shaping up to be just another hot, humid and lazy summer in the dear ole magnolia state.

None of the young boys knew it at the time, but 1964 would be a pivotal time for the State of Mississippi and would put the state on a path for entry into the 20th century due to a little thing called Freedom Summer. That summer would be the Civil Rights voting registration effort in Mississippi. Getting black voters to the polls was long overdue. The old white folks ain’t going to like it.

The Mississippi State flag still proudly displayed the battle flag of the ole Confederate States of America. It was the summer of ‘64, but some folks didn’t realize it was 1964, not 1864. A century had passed since General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Grant at Appomattox Courthouse. People still acted as if they still resided in that long bygone era of the antebellum days of live oaks and magnolia trees with bourbon and branch served to you on the veranda by an old Colored man in a white jacket. Mississippi had survived the Yankee occupation called reconstruction. The Carpetbaggers, Scalawags, Republicans and fancy Negros had all left after a few years of occupation and left the South back in control of the same folks that had been in charge before the Civil War.

The USA never had a good end game or exit strategy.

When looking back on that era, one realizes that the rest of the nation treated Mississippi like a crazy uncle that had a room in the basement. In 1964, Mississippi had telephones, TVs, cars and most things everyone else in the nation had except for a 20th-century attitude toward the civil rights of Colored folks. The elders of Mississippi didn’t just jump on every fad that came down the road. That civil rights crap might be alright for some of them Yankee states with Fancy Colored people, but Mississippi wasn’t ready for that sort of silliness.

How wrong they were.

When you’re only fifteen years old, national news stories aren’t something that holds any interest for you.

Some tiny country in Southeast Asia no one ever heard took a shot at one of our Navy ships. That turned out to be a big mistake. The Congress passed some war act, and President Johnson sent a bunch of soldiers to show them who was the boss. LBJ was a real Texan, who had a hat, plenty of cattle, and could whip this little Asian country back into shape. When will these two-bit backwater countries begin to understand that doing what the US was demanding was good for them? Don’t the stupid people know it?

An airplane loaded up with US Marines should be able to clear that mess up by this Christmas.

A big earthquake occurred in Alaska a few months back. According to Mr. Cronkite on the TV, it was one of the largest in history and the state sustained significant damage. Everyone saw it on TV and in Life magazine, but it didn’t mean much. The local churches had fund drives for relief aid, but most folks didn’t feel the need to contribute because they didn’t know where Alaska was. As one looks back now, you can bet the white leaders of Mississippi would have traded the earthquake in Alaska for what was about to happen.

Last year in Birmingham, this redneck cop ordered water hoses be turned on some Colored folks who were marching and protesting for civil rights. He let some big dogs out too and caused quite a scare. Everyone saw some folks getting hit with the high-pressure water that looked a little over the top to most folks. That same year a Baptist church was bombed in Birmingham, and three small Colored girls were slaughtered. Killing little kids just ain’t right, and nobody ought to attack a church. Somebody ought to get the electric chair for that sort of crap.

Just a short time ago in Jackson, a Colored man named Evers got shot and killed. He was some civil rights worker trying to get the Colored folks all worked up. They caught the guy, but he got off. An all-white jury wasn’t about to send no white man to jail for killing a Colored man in 1960s Mississippi. He got so much publicity that he ran for Lt. Governor.

As one local teenager recalled, I saw him in the local BBQ place in Amory when he was running. I had never met anybody who had been written up in the Memphis newspaper so I asked if I could sit down. He said yes. I was too young to vote but was interested in politics. After some small talk, I decided to shoot the elephant in the room, so I asked him, Did you kill Medgar Evers? I thought he was going to choke on his pulled pork sandwich. He looked at me, smiled and said, Well, the jury said I didn’t. I will never forget that creepy smile on his face. He lost the race. I’m pretty sure he didn’t get any Colored votes.

A little over an hour’s drive north of Jackson Mississippi, near the town of Philadelphia, two white Yankee boys, and one local Colored boy were heading to a civil rights meeting at the Mount Zion Methodist Church in Neshoba County when they were picked up for speeding by the local cops. Most locals knew if you had a car tag that was from anywhere but Neshoba County you might as well go to the sheriff’s office and pay your cover charge for trespassing though his county. These three boys didn’t how far back in time they had traveled in less than a couple of hours when they got stopped and detained in the Philadelphia, Ms. Jail. Michael Schwerner, James Chaney and Andrew Goodman would never make it to Mount Zion Methodist Church. They posted a $20 bail and were released but never heard from again. As soon as their friends realized they were missing all hell broke loose. Most of their friends were from Yankee states and very well connected politically speaking. As bad as the earthquake was in Alaska, it was nothing in comparison to the firestorm heading to white Mississippi in the summer of 1964.

A search for the civil rights workers was initiated by the Mississippi Highway Patrol and local cops the next day. The following Tuesday the burnt out car was located, but no bodies were recovered.

LBJ (President Johnson) and FBI Boss J. Edgar Hoover conferred that afternoon. Hoover told LBJ he had search teams on the way down to Mississippi from other field offices. LBJ asked Hoover if the FBI had any reason to believe that the three kids kidnaped would be found safe. Hoover didn’t mince words when he informed the President of the most powerful country on the planet that little if any hope should be held out for finding them alive.

Somewhere in the piney woods of central Mississippi, the local KKK gang was gathered, drinking cold beer and Bourbon and eating BBQ much like a tailgate party before a drag race. Slaps on the backs and laughing were the order of the day.

Want to see if any of guests wants a beer? Hell, I guess I’ll see myself. Travis said to the crowd. He took a few steps over to their guests they had hoisted up a tree like dead deer. Anyone of you Jew boys want a beer? I know your friend does.

Go ahead Preacher, wake that n…r boy up. his friends shouted as they laughed and made remarks about their fruitful day of hunting.

James Chaney, the local Colored boy, had been beaten so severely that he couldn’t see out of his eyes or talk due to the swelling in his face and mouth. For him, death couldn’t come too soon.

The era of the clandestine Klan was drawing to a close. The secret society had been formed by a former slave trader and Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest after the Civil War in response to the oppressive era of reconstruction. The Klan had suppressed the Negro vote and the upstart Republican Party in the post-civil war South almost since the day of Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Court House. The KKK was a shadow unelected but powerful force in Mississippi. Their reach was deep into both the elected officials in local and state offices but more importantly in the local courthouse and sheriff’s departments. The prevailing environment meant the KKK could operate without any restraints since capture and prosecution would be very unlikely. Occasionally, pressure from the public would cause one of the hooded cowards to be arrested. If the arrest led to a trial, an all-white jury most likely would acquit because of close personal ties or fear of what the KKK would do to them or their family. The Klan’s soft tyranny was secret and unspoken, but effective method of controlling the local population.

The change had been slow to come to the old Confederate States, and Mississippi was about to play catch-up.

CHAPTER 1

THE PARKS’ CHICAGO HOME JUNE 1964

Teddy, you better get down here and eat before you hit the road, said Teddy mother, Rose.

OK, Mom. I’ll be down shortly. Teddy said.

It had been seven years since he had been to Mississippi to see all his aunts, uncles, and cousins that had never left the South as his dad had over 20 years ago.

Teddy’s Mom was from Chicago as were all of her close relatives. Holidays were great because the house was full of kinfolks laughing, joking and having fun. Teddy had three first cousins all about his age, and they all went to the same High School in a Colored urban middle-class section of Chicago. They had a great football and basketball team that had both gone to the state championships the year before. Teddy and his cousin Ronny were both starters for both the basketball and football teams. Teddy had been named MVP on the football team. Although he was only a junior, he was larger and faster than most due to being held back a year before starting grammar school due to illness. Many college scouts had been at games looking at him for a scholarship. He had a 3.5 GPA, President of his class and very popular with the ladies. Teddy wasn’t serious about one girl but had been dating an attractive girl of Cuban descendent named Tina. He liked her but since he was so popular he was playing the field. His future could not have been brighter. His parents were looking forward to the day when he would graduate from college.

The Chicago Tribune had even written an article on him and Ronny being cousins and on the same two sports teams. The story was printed in the sports section of a Sunday edition. Teddy’s Mom had his Dad get up at the crack of dawn the morning the article came out so he could go around town and buy 20 copies for her. The two of them couldn’t have been prouder of Teddy and his cousin.

Teddy had worked hard after school and on the weekends to be able to buy a used 1954 baby blue Pontiac. An elderly lady’s husband at his folk’s church had bought the car new from Witten Motors in the neighborhood, which was one of the first Negro-owned car dealerships in the state. After her husband passed on, the car just sat idle, parked in the driveway. Teddy had moved it several times while doing chores for Mrs. Abernathy. Somehow she heard Teddy was saving up for a car, so she decided to sell the 10-year-old car to Teddy for $150, a bargain considering the car’s pristine condition. The residents of this tight, close-knit black middle-class neighborhood looked out for their neighbors and loved ones. Teddy never charged her anything for doing chores since she lived on a small pension her husband had left her for his 36 years of service with the city gas company. This helping hand practice was the circle of life ethos that prevailed in the neighborhood. The main street of this neighborhood was lined with well-to-do patrons, shopping for food, new clothes, books, musical instruments and most anything else one could want. What they didn’t find there, a trip uptown could be relied upon on to suffice for their needs and it didn’t matter if you were Colored or white.

Belief in God, family and country was preached and practiced at the Parks’ household. Teddy’s Dad was a WW ll hero who had been awarded a Bronze Star for action in the South Pacific as an MP. Aaron Parks believed in hard work, respect and duty to his community. By any measure, the Parks were first-class citizens. His Dad had fought hard for his country and worked long hours to provide his family with everything they needed to succeed in life. Teddy admired his Dad and was proud of his achievements.

Teddy’s Dad had grown up in North Mississippi and had managed to graduate from High School just six months before the Japs attacked Pearl Harbor. Although he had been a 2nd class citizen in rural Mississippi, he was proud to serve in the Army. He mustered in January of 1942 at Camp Shelby, Mississippi, about 150 miles from New Orleans, Louisiana. At the time this as far away from home he had ever been. He wrote back to his mother, Miss Elle Mae Parks that they had pine trees bigger and taller than anything he had ever seen before. But sadly, he wrote,

"Everybody in my company except for the commanding officer is a Negro. The first night we got out of the camp on a pass, we had to drive to a small farm gas station that would serve Negros as long as they set in the black room and used the Colored only restroom."

A second-class citizen was fighting for a first-class nation.

Scooter completed his basic training and was immediately sent to train on heavy equipment like bulldozers and road graders used for road building. After a few weeks, the whole company received orders to move out.

As they were drawing TA-50 (load bearing equipment; helmets, cold weather gear, cots, sleeping bags and other field equipment), the supply clerk issued Scooter a pair of boots the likes of which he had never seen. The platoon sergeant called them mukluks and they were for cold, snowy weather climates. Little did Scooter know that very soon he would be euphoric to have these boots that the Eskimos had invented.

Scooter (locals called him Scooter instead of his given name Aaron) moved out with his unit a few days later still not sure where they were heading. Anyone that’s ever been in the service knows about rumors and the rumor mill was in high gear now. They were put on a train in Jackson, Mississippi in what Scooter thought was their very particular car because the Colored troops had all to themselves. A Colored conductor would bring them meals three times a day. After a day on the train, one of the guys finally asked the old Colored man where the train was heading. Chi-Town, my man, Chi-Town, said the conductor. Somebody on the train finally told Scooter Chi-Town was Chicago, Illinois, a long way from Mississippi in more ways than one. This train trip would start Scooter on a journey that would change his life.

Chicago in winter 1942

The first thing Scooter noticed about the city of Chicago was none of the restaurants had any signs saying no Negros allowed, or Colored served only in the back. Scooter walked past many bars and cafes until he found one that had both Negros and white folks sitting in the same room. He gingerly and silently opened the door and walked in. As he looked around, he noticed a counter where a young, attractive Colored lady was waiting on customers. Sheepishly, Scooter sat into an open spot and waited.

Much to Scooter’s joy, the waitress walked over to him and said, What you want to eat, soldier?

Scooter thought he had died and gone to Heaven because in the whole damn state of Mississippi, no girl he had ever seen looked as pretty as this girl. Scooter mustered up all the courage he had and said, Honey child, what’s your name.Rose replied. You are not from around here are you, soldier boy?

CHAPTER 2

THE LAST WEEK OF SCHOOL FOR TEDDY JUNE 1964

Teddy had been talking about his summer trip to Mississippi with all his friends at school. His football coach, Coach Bennet, hadn’t said much to Teddy. Silently, he was observing his star tailback’s delight about traveling down to Mississippi to see all the friends he had made seven years earlier when the family all went down to visit. Finally, he decided he had hesitated long enough.

Coach Bennett decided it was time to talk to Teddy in private. He had been reluctant to speak up since the trip was after the school year had ended. He also knew his Dad and Mom had his best interest at heart. But he just could not hold back his desire to talk to Teddy any longer.

Teddy, Coach Bennett said.

Yes, sir, coach, Teddy replied.

How bouts you come in here for a second before the class bell rings so we can have a chat.

Coach lower his large frame down in a chair in front of Teddy and after a pause began, Teddy, you are one the finest young men I have ever had the privilege to coach. You have great grades, a leader on and off the field and have a bright future ahead of you.

Thank you, coach. That means a lot coming from you, Sir, replied Teddy.

I would never forgive myself if I didn’t discuss this topic with you, the coach said with the saddest and most serious expression on his face Teddy ever had seen.

Son, the situation for Negros in Mississippi is a lot different than it is here in Chicago. You have lived your entire life in this thirty square block neighborhood and have never seen more than a couple of white folks in your life. Now we got some Mexican people here now but no white folks. I have never set foot in that state and don’t intend to in this life, but they tell me you can’t get away from white folks in Mississippi because they are all over the place. That means they always will be looking at you. You are going to stand out because you are not from there and driving a car with an Illinois tag. You will most likely speak better and dress nicer than many white folks, and that tends to make them hate you more.

Suddenly Teddy’s joy suddenly dissipated a bit as he looked at his beloved coach’s mannerisms and facial expression.

Coach, Dad has always told me how difference that my cousins, aunt and uncles had it’s down home (Aaron after all these years still called Mississippi home).

Coach Bennett began to speak again, Not two years ago the President had to send in troops to Ole Miss so a Negro named James Meredith could go to a white college. Bad things happen to Negros in Mississippi for next to no reason. Less than a decade ago, 1955 I believe, a 14-year-old Colored boy named Emmett Till from right here in this neighborhood, was beaten and killed. Then like a piece of trash, his mutilated body was tossed into a river. He got killed for whistling at a white woman. The Money, Mississippi murder is fresh on all Colored folks minds here. That happened in what they call the Mississippi Delta. It's where all those big plantation are majestically perched on the Mississippi River Levee. Old attitudes die hard. Maybe that was bad manners on his part and stupid considering where he was but it wasn’t no killing offense. He was just a tubby jolly little kid who liked to act like a fool to make people laugh. This happy young teenager had no idea of what a social faux pas he had made. It wasn’t no reason to kill like they did, though.

Teddy’s joy had completely had left his face. Finally he said, But coach, that couldn’t happen to me. My Dad is from there, and all my kinfolks are locals.

Coach Bennett could see the look on Teddy’s face. Immediately he regretted being so brutally honest. Man, he thought to himself, I shouldn’t have told him all this. Maybe I had overstepped my bounds.

Well Teddy, I am sorry if I dampened your enthusiasm about your summer trip. All that I have told is old history. I am sure this sort of thing is in the past, and the situation is much better now.

You go and have yourself a great time and come back ready for your senior year. This next year will shape you for the rest of your life. Remember two a day practice starts in early August so don’t come back all fat and out shape after eating all that fried chicken, mashed taters with gravy and pecan pie for dessert. I got me a piece of that pecan pie that Christmas your Aunt Carrie made when she was visiting Aaron and your mother. I still dream about how good it was.

The coach shook Teddy's hand and said goodbye, wondering if he had crossed the line or hadn’t warned him enough. Only time would tell. Still Coach Bennett had a sick feeling in his stomach. He had the same ill feeling on his first mission when he flew his P-51D Mustang with the 332nd Fighter Squadron or Red Tails (the famed Tuskegee Airmen) in Europe.

Teddy had been trying to entice his cousin and best friend Ronny to take a break from Chicago and go down South with him for the summer. As he walked out of the gym, he saw Ronny hanging out with his girlfriend, Rhonda. She wasn’t the best looking girl in school but according to Ronny; she had certain compensating qualities that made her a keeper.

Hey, man. You decided if you are going to Mississippi with me or not. Teddy yelled. Rhonda and Ronny had been holding hands as Teddy walked up. As Teddy spoke, her hands tighten on Ronny’s so tight Ronny’s hand started to turn red. Rhonda’s family knew the Tills, the parents of Emmett Till, who had been brutally killed in Mississippi a few years back. The people they arrested were charged but were acquitted by an all-white jury, so justice never came for the Tills.

She told her parents about Teddy’s trip, and that Teddy had been trying to get Ronny to go with him. Her parents took her aside and began to tell the story of 14-year-old Emmett Till. Baby girl, her father, said as he began, "We both like Ronny a lot and don’t want any harm to come to him. But there are some things you need to know about the Deep South, especially Mississippi. Here in our neighborhood you will never find the type of hate that exists like in Mississippi. You were too young to remember, but a boy from this area went down there in I believe the summer of 1955. His uncle had stopped at a small grocery store in a little town named Money near Sumner, Mississippi to get a cold drink and some fireworks for his sons and nephews. Apparently from what I read, Emmett whistled at a woman, a white woman who just happened to the store owner’s wife. The newspaper said the white owner and a few of his friends kidnaped him later that week from his uncle’s house, tortured, mutilated and beat him to death. Then they weighed him down and threw him into the Tallahatchie River. A young Colored sharecropper boy heard the screams from the young Till boy. Emmett Till was an outgoing class clown sort of boy who wanted to make his Mississippi country cousins laugh. He had no idea what he did could even get him hurt, let alone kill him. When they pulled him from the river, they found he had been wrapped up with barbed wire. The fat redneck sheriff said to reporters,

Ain’t that just like a n…r, stealing more barbed wire than he could swim with.

Baby girl, Mama and I just have bad feelings about this trip. If you care for Ronny, you need to do whatever it takes to keep him in Chicago."

By the time her Daddy had finished talking, Rhonda’s eyes were swelling up with tears, and her hands were shaking. Her myopic view of the world had been shattered. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that bad things happened to Negros but not around her neighborhood. What her Daddy had just told her would take some time to process but she knew Ronny wasn’t going to Mississippi with his cousin Teddy no matter what she had to do. She had to make sure that their unborn child would have its father. She had not told anyone, not even Ronny about the baby. She would play that hole card if it were no other way to prevent him leaving her.

Cuz, have you decided on the trip? I sure would like your company. Teddy said as he approached Ronny.

What he hadn’t told Ronny were all those good looking country girls down there were just waiting for some cool cats from Chi Town to romance them. Teddy knew Rhonda was the obstacle, but he sensed something else was up.

As Teddy walked up, he could tell from the look on Ronny’s face that the little tubby tart had worn him down. Tina had tried that crap on him, but he reminded her that they were not going steady, and he was going to visit his kinfolks whether she liked it or not. Teddy assured her he was not going there to look for a new girlfriend. Teddy was so proud of himself that he could tell Tina such a lie with a straight face. In reality, Teddy had been dreaming about this little blond headed white girl named Billie with the prettiest blue eyes one could imagine that lived next door to Aunt Carrie. She was eleven when he had seen her last, but they had formed a bond.

Hey Teddy, Ronny yelled out as Teddy walked up to him and Rhonda. About the trip to Mississippi, I don’t believe I can make it. Maybe if it were just a week or two you were planning to stay, I might go but you plan to stay until almost two a day football practices starts. I am going have to pass.

Teddy wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so he pressured him.

Ronny, just what is the real reason, Teddy said to his cousin and best friend.

Teddy knew Ronny was shackled by the sexual relation with Rhonda since he began making it regularly to home base with that loose fat ass tart. He knew his cousin well enough to know something else was bothering him.

Look here, Teddy. I have a bad feeling about your trip. I know your Dad’s from down there. I have met your Auntie Carrie and some of your kinfolks from Uncle Aaron’s side of the family, but I been hearing some bad crap that been happening to Negros in Mississippi. I mean they’re killing Colored folks and burning their churches. Are you sure you want to go down there? I mean just because you from Chicago is reason enough to get at least your ass kicked. Have you thought about that?

Teddy had heard just about all he could stand. First the coach and now his cousin are telling him not to go. Is everybody ganging up to keep here this summer?

Look, Ronny, the coach just got through telling me to watch my back down there. I am not going there to stir up nothing. I just want to be with my kinfolk and some other friends I met a few years back. Hell, are you turning into a girl, Cuz? I mean just because you and your little princess are playing house doesn’t mean you can’t get away for a month. Damn, man, where are your balls?

Rhonda just turned away and ran off crying.

What, something I said? Teddy expressed in a sarcastic tone.

Teddy, that was over the line. Rhonda is worried about your trip to Mississippi. Her Dad told her some kid from here back in 1955 that got beaten to death for just whistling at a white woman. She begged me not to go and said you shouldn’t go either. She is upset.

Damnit Ronny, I swear ever since you and that tubby little girlfriend started dating, you have been less and less fun to hang out with. What’s the deal, man? You think that she is the only girl that puts out. Hell man, you are a football and basketball star. You done had your name and picture in the Chicago Sunday newspaper. Wise up and play the field like me.

Ronny looked at his best friend and closest relative outside his brothers and sisters with an uncomfortable mixture of pity, rage, sadness and sorrow.

Teddy, you be careful down there. We got to go back to the state football championship this coming year so don’t do anything stupid. Ronny said to his cousin. He had decided not to tell him about his unborn child that was the main reason for his decision.

CHAPTER 3

JUNE 1964 CHICAGO POLICE HOMICIDE SQUAD ROOM

Aaron picked the phone at the station and called a Colored cop friend down in Memphis, Tennessee he had met several years back at a police officers convention in St. Louis. As it turned out, they had both been in same MP Battalion in