Hungry Blues

Olen Burrage named in confession

Why Only Edgar Ray Killen?

Neshoba murders case

Courtesy of the Arkansas Delta Peace And Justice Center

Horace Doyle Barnett's Nov. 20, 1964, confession to the FBI

From FBI documents

FEDERAL BUREAU OF INVESTIGATION

Date:
11/24/64

The following is a signed statement which was furnished by HORACE DOYLE BARNETTE on November 20, 1964:

Springhill, La.

Nov. 20, 1964

"I, Horace Doyle Barnette, do hereby make this free and voluntary statement to Special Agent Henry Rask and Special Agent James A. Wooten, who have identified themselves to me to be special agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation and Special Agent Henry Rask have informed me that I do not have to make a statement, that any statement made by me can be used against me in a court of law and that I am entitled to consult with an attorney before making this statement and that if I can not afford an attorney and I am required to appear in court, the court will appoint one for me. That no force, threats or promises were made to induce me to make this statement. I presently reside at Cullen, La. I am 26 years old and was born on September 11, 1938, at Plain Dealing, La.

"On June 21, 1964 about 8:00 P.M., I was having supper at Jimmy Arledge's house, Meridian, Mississippi. Travis Barnette called Arledge on the telephone and told Arledge that the Klan had a job and wanted to know if Arledge and I could go. Arledge asked me if I could go and we went to Akins trailer park on Highway 80 in Meridian, Miss. We did not know what the job was.

"Upon arriving at Akins trailer park we were met by Preacher Killen, Mr. Akins, Jim Jordan and Wayne. I do not know Wayne's last name, but I do know his brother is a police officer in Meridian, Miss. Killen told us that three civil rights workers were in jail in Philadelphia, Miss., and that these three civil rights workers were going to be released from jail and that we were going to catch them and give them a whipping. We were given brown cloth gloves and my car was filled with gas from Mr. Akins gas tank. Jim Snowden, who works for Troy Laundry in Meridian came to Akins trailer park, too. Arledge, Snowden, and Jordan got into my car and we drove to Philadelphia. Killen and Wayne left before we did and we were told that we would meet him there. Killen had a 1962 or 1961 white Buick. When we arrived in Philadelphia, about 9:30 P.M., we met Killen and he got into my car and directed me where to park and wait for someone to tell us when the three civil rights workers were being released from jail. While we were talking, Killen stated that 'we have a place to bury them, and a man to run the dozer to cover them up.' This was the first time I realized that the three civil rights workers were to be killed. About 5 or 10 minutes after we parked, a patrolman from Philadelphia came to the car and said that 'they are going toward Meridianon Highway 19.' We proceeded out Highway 19 and caught up to a Mississippi State Patrol Car, who pulled into a store on the left hand side of the road. We pulled along side of the patrol car and then another car from Philadelphia pulled in between us. I was driving a 1957 Ford, 4 door, 2 tone blue bearing Louisiana license. The Philadelphia car was a 1958 Chevrolet, 2 door and color maroon. It also had a dent on front right hand fender next to the light. No one got out of the cars, but the driver of the Philadelphia car, who I later learned was named Posey, talked to the patrolmen. Posey then drove away and we followed. About 2 or 3 miles down the Highway Posey's car stopped and pulled off on the right hand side of the road. Posey motioned for me to go ahead. I then drove fast and caught up to the car that the three civil rights workers were in, pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. About a minute or 2 later, Deputy Sheriff Price came along and stopped on the pavement beside my car. Jordan asked him who was going to stop them and Price said that he would and took after them and we followed. The Civil Rights workers turned off Highway 19 on to a side road and drove about a couple of miles before Price stopped them. Price stopped his car behind the 1963 Ford Fairlane Station Wagon driven by the Civil Rights Workers and we stopped behind Price's car. Price was driving a 1956 Chevrolet, 2 door and 2 tone blue in color. Price stated 'I thought you were going back to Meridian if we let you out of jail.' The Civil Rights Workers stated that they were and Price asked them why they were taking the long way around. Price told them to get out and get into his car. They got out of their car and proceed to get into Price's car and then Price took his blackjack and struck Chaney on the back of the head.

"At the junction of Highway 19 and where we turned off, I had let Arledge out of the car to signal the fellows in the Philadelphia car. We then turned around and proceeded back toward Philadelphia. The first car to start back was Price and he had Jim Jordan in the front seat with him and the three civil rights workers in the back seat. I followed next and picked up Arledge at the junction of Highway 19. Snowden drove the 1963 Ford, belonging to the Civil Rights Workers. When we came to Posey's car Price and Snowden pulled over to the left side of the Highway and stopped in front of Posey's car. I stopped behind it. Wayne and Posey and the other men from Philadelphia got into the 1963 Ford and rode with Snowden. I do not know how many men were from Philadelphia. Price then started first and I pulled in behind him and Snowden driving the 1963 Ford came last. I followed Price down Highway 19 and he turned left on to a gravel road. About a mile up the road he stopped and Snowden and I stopped behind him, with about a car length between each car. Before I could get out of the car Wayne ran past my car to Price's car, opened the left rear door, pulled Schwerner out of the car, spun him around so that Schwerner was standing on the left side of the road, with his back to the ditch and said 'Are you that nigger lover' and Schwerner said 'Sir, I know just how you feel.' Wayne had a pistol in his right hand, then shot Schwerner. Wayne then went back to Price's car and got Goodman, took him to the left side of the road with Goodman facing the road, and shot Goodman.

"When Wayne shot Schwerner, Wayne had his hand on Schwerner's shoulder. When Wayne shot Goodman, Wayne was standing within reach of him. Schwerner fell to the left so that he was laying along side the road. Goodman spun around and fell back toward the bank in back.

"At this time Jim Jordan said 'save one for me.' He then got out of Price's car and got Chaney out. I remember Chaney backing up, facing the road, and standing on the bank on the other side of the ditch and Jordan stood in the middle of the road and shot him. I do not remember how many times Jordan shot. Jordan then said. 'You didn't leave me anything but a nigger, but at least I killed me a nigger.' The three civil rights workers were then put into the back of their 1963 Ford wagon. I do not know who put the bodies in the car, but I only put Chaney's foot inside the car, Price then got into his car and drove back toward Highway 19. Wayne, Posey and Jordan then got into the 1963 Ford and started up the road.
Snowden, Arledge and another person who I do not know the name of got into my car and we followed. I do not know the roads we took, but went through the outskirts of Philadelphia and to the Dam site on Burrage's property. When we arrived at the Dam site someone said that the bulldozer operator was not there and Wayne, Arledge and I went in my car to find him. We drove out to a paved road and about a mile down the road.

"We saw a 1957 Chevrolet, white and green, parked on the left side of the road. Wayne told me to stop and we backed up to this car. Burrage and 2 other men were in the car. Wayne said that they were already down there and Burrage said to follow them. I followed the 1957 Chevrolet back toward the Dam site, taking a different road, until the Chevrolet stopped. Burrage said 'it is just a little ways over there,' and Wayne and the bulldozer operator walked the rest of the way. The bulldozer operator was about 40 years old, 6 ft - 2 inches tall, slim built and a white male. He was wearing khaki clothes. Arledge and I then followed Burrage and the other man back to Burrage's garage. The other man was a white male, about 40 years old, 5 feet 8 or 9 inches tall, stocky built. Burrage's garage is on the road toward Philadelphia and he had tractors and trailer parked there. His house is across the road.

"We were there about 30 minutes when the other fellows came from the dam site in the 1963 Ford. Burrage got a glass gallon jug and filled it with gasoline to be used to burn the 1963 Ford car owned by the three civil rights workers. Burrage took one of the diesel trucks from under a trailer and said 'I will use this to pick you up, no one will suspect a truck on the road this time at night.' It was then about 1:00 to 1:30 in the morning. Snowden, Arledge, Jordan, Wayne and I then got into my car and we drove back toward Philadelphia. When we got to Philadelphia a city patrol car stopped us and we got out. Sheriff Rainey, Deputy Sheriff Price and the City Patrolman, who told us which way the civil rights workers were leaving town, got out of the patrol car. The patrolman was a white male, about 50 years old, 5 feet 8 to 9 inches, 160 lbs., and was wearing a uniform. This was about 2:00,AM., June 22, 1964. 1 do not know his name, but I have met him before and would know him again.

"We talked for 2 or 3 minutes and then someone said that we better not talk about this and Sheriff Rainey said 'I'll kill anyone who talks, even if it was my own brother.' We then got back into my car and drove back to Meridian and passed Posey's car which was still parked along side the road. We did not stop and there was one or two men standing by Posey's car. We then kept going to Meridian. I took Wayne home, left Jordan and Snowden at Akins Mobile Homes, took Arledge home and went home myself. I have read the above Statement, consisting of this and 9 other pages and they are true and correct to the best of my knowledge and belief. I have signed my initials to the bottom of the first 9 pages and initial mistakes. No force threats or promises were made to induce me to make this statement."

Signed,
Horace Doyle Barnette.
Witnessed:
Henry Rask, Special Agent, FBI Nov. 20, 1964
James A. Wooten, Special Agent, FBI,
New Orleans, La. 11-20-64

from "Judge for Killen case seen as efficient, organized, respectful," by Billy Watkins, The Clarion Ledger, 13 June 05

"I accepted this case like any other," says Gordon, sipping coffee in his chambers at the Scott County Courthouse. "My responsibility is to provide a fair trial. The verdict of the jury will be the verdict of the jury.

"I don't know the facts of the case, but I do know the law and my duty — and that's to call it like it is. I can't allow the attention of the case to affect my rulings. And I won't."

Gordon grew up in Union, the youngest of three sons born to Benton and Flossie Gordon. His dad was a barber, his mom a factory worker.

He lost both parents within 24 hours, in 1965. His mom died of a brain hemorrhage. While he and his brothers were picking out her gravesite, Benton Gordon died of congestive heart failure.

Killen, a preacher, presided over the funerals.

Doesn't know the facts of the case, yet Killen was the family preacher? What kind of graveside homily do you think Killen delivered in 1965?

While he is old school in his approach to God and country — "I just can't understand anyone demonstrating against a country that has given us all such great opportunities," he says — Gordon has changed his opinion on TV cameras inside the courtroom.

Killen and the other murderers were also "old school in their "approach to God and country," "defending" it from "Godless communists" and "subversive race agitators." We certainly can't jump to any conclusions, since there is no way to tell at the moment what Gordon's family association with Killen was, but it demands imediate investigation. The passing mention, above, is the first I've seen on the matter.

For up to the minute updates on the Edgar Ray Killen trial, check out Will Bardwell's blog. Will is a native of Meridian, MS and is on the scene in Philadelphia. I will continue to argue with his facts and opinions, I'm sure, but he's providing valuable coverage for anyone who wants to follow the case.

As usual, Susan Klopfer's comments belong up here, on the main page.

Quite simply, Mississippi's murdering past is not going to fade away. Here's just one tiny example of why:

Last evening as I was doing some follow-up research, looking for additional information on the relationship of Guy Banister (remember Jim Garrison?) and Senator Eastland, and Jack Childs (the key FBI informant behind the taping of Dr. Martin Luther King) it ended up that Jack Childs has a file in the Sovereignty Commission files (SCR ID # 2-62-1-107-14-1-1).

Jack Child's name had shown up in an address book of Aaron Henry's that was apparently stolen from Aaron Henry and copied into the Commission files. But right above Jack Childs' file was another one for J. A. Childs (SCR ID # 10-70-0-2-1-1-1). Could this be a second file on Jack?

The second Mr. Childs was someone else, the employer of an unfortunate black man, Mr. Booker T. Mixon of Itta Bena, who was dragged behind a car near Marks (Quitman County) in 1959. This "auto accident" was not investigated and no autopsy was done even though Mr. Mixon's totally nude body showed "abrasions, cuts and contusions." He remained in a coma in the Clarksdale hospital from Oct. 12 until Oct. 23 when he died "without uttering a word."

No.. this history is not going to fade just because one old man is found guilty in 2005. Too many old black people keep their own lists of all of the other thousands of people who were lynched or who "disappeared" in Mississippi over the years. Further, the Sovereignty Commission files are filled with names such as Mr. Mixon's, and sometimes, when the stars are right, the names of these murder victims shimmer through, if only for a moment in the early morning hours.

(Page 1 of 2)

Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission Records
SCR ID # 10-70-0-2-1-1-1
Mississippi Department of Archives & History
http://www.mdah.state.ms.us

$100,000 reward for Mississippi’s infamous Civil Rights murders
by KAREN JUANITA CARRILLO
Special to the AmNews
Originally posted 12/27/2004

Because 2004 marked the 40th anniversary of the Chaney, Goodman and Schwerner case, there has been an extra push to finally have justice served against these infamous race-based killings. Because James Chaney was an African American and a Christian, and Goodman and Schwerner were both white and Jewish, the three young men were murdered while investigating the firebombing of an African American church. Many of today's Mississippians say they feel that the unpunished Chaney, Goodman and Schwerner murders give their state a racist reputation.

But Ben Chaney, the younger brother of James, thinks that some of the people behind the new push to solve the 1964 murders may want to clean up the state's reputation by deceptive means.

James E. Prince III, the grandson of the former head of the White Citizen's Council, is currently publisher and editor of the Neshoba Democrat newspaper. Ben, who directs the James Earl Chaney Foundation, said that it appears as if Prince is using his new local citizens group, the Philadelphia Coalition, to go after only the most virulent racists who took part in the murders - former Ku Klux Klan Imperial Wizard Sam Bowers and Edgar Ray "Preacher" Killen, the man said to have been the "main instigator" of the murders, who told the other Klansmen where to hide in order to capture the three young men, what to do with them once they'd been captured, and where to bury their bodies.

Convictions of Bowers and Killen could be used to promote the idea that racism no longer exists in Neshoba County, Chaney contends. But if there are to be convictions for the 1964 murders, Ben says his family would only support efforts to convict each of the still nine to ten living murderers. The problem is that some of those murderers went on to high stations in Mississippi society, and Chaney thinks that those murderers, as politically connected racists, would most likely be protected from prosecution.

"This is their desire to separate their group from the Klan," Chaney said. "They're promoting this image as if they're trying to seek justice, while in fact their true agenda is something else. "They're going to say they're seeking justice, but that's no justice there - even I know better than that. They're playing a very vicious game here; they're seriously playing a game!"

(Whole thing.)

From: Benjamin Greenberg
To: Bobby Pepper
Date: Jun 11, 2005 10:08 PM
Subject: Open Letter To Leesha Faulkner, re: "Deep in my heart I do believe there is justice"

Bobby Pepper, Online Editor, Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal
Open Letter To Leesha Faulkner, re: "Deep in my heart I do believe there is justice," Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal, June 6, 2005, section A, page 2

Dear Ms. Faulkner,

I read your article on Susan Glisson of the Winter Center with great interest, since, like you, I believe that there must be justice for James Chaney, Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman. In order to achieve justice it is essential to know the truth. In the spirit of truth and justice, I would like to offer three corrections to your article.

1) You state that "Glisson pushed and pulled and tugged with a local multi-racial coalition until the powers in the state had no choice but to put up." This assertion about the Philadelphia Coalition is counter to how the Coalition defines itself: "Although the Coalition has been characterized by the media as pushing for the prosecution of the accused man, Edgar Ray Killen, leaders point out they simply made a call for justice and have not sought to address the guilt or innocence of individuals or in any way become involved with the investigation or the upcoming trial" (Neshoba Democrat, "Coalition stresses its non-activist role," April 6, 2005)

Furthermore, in the same Neshoba Democrat article, Leroy Clemons, co-chairman of the Coalition, states that "the call for justice has been answered." Nothing could be further from the truth. The indictment of Edgar Ray Killen is only a small first step in the pursuit of justice: There are at least eight other living suspects. And there was a Mississippi state spy agency, the Sovereignty Commission, which provided the Klan with intelligence, like the license plate number of the car Chaney, Goodman and Schwerner were driving on June 21, 1964.

I was surprised, Ms. Faulkner, because I thought you had a broader understanding of the Neshoba murders case. In 1994, when you interviewed Reverend Clinton Collier [PDF] for the Mississippi Oral History Program, you discussed the Neshoba murders and asked him, "You think some others should have been arrested." Reverend Collier replied, "Many more. Olen Burrage, they found that on his place, and I've been reminiscing over that a long time. Why in the world didn't they do something with that guy?... He knew something.... I don't see how come the family can't sue the hell out of him. He's a rich man."

2) You speak as if the pursuit of justice for Chaney, Goodman and Schwerner began just last year, with the formation of the Philadelphia Coalition. In fact, long before Susan Glisson, James Prince III and Leroy Clemons and other Coalition members made their non-committal call for justice in 2004, there were others working tirelessly for truth and a larger justice than the one the Coalition stands for. It strikes me as genuinely odd that you would talk about quests for justice in this case without a single mention of any of the parties who were directly affected, many of whom demand the larger justice I speak of. Three people come to mind quickly: Ben Chaney, brother of James; John Steele, Neshoba County native and member of the Longdale community whose Mt. Zion Church was burned by the Klan on June 16, 1964; and Jerry Mitchell, whose reporting on civil rights era murders has brought important evidence to light and kept the Neshoba murders and other cases in the public eye with his many articles.

3) In your telling of the story of the murders, you state: "Three guys, civil rights workers, go to investigate a church burning. They have a flat. Then, the Neshoba County sheriff's deputy pulls them over." This is not correct. Chaney, Schwerner and Goodman got their flat tire while they were already being pursued by Deputy Sheriff Cecil Price. This may seem like splitting hairs, but the way you tell it, it was Cecil Price's good fortune that he happened to come upon the three young civil rights workers while they were changing their tire. In fact, he was pursuing their car because he had recognized the license plate number, which he knew from Sovereignty Commission intelligence reports, which were also forwarded to the likes of Senator James O. Eastland.

Why only Killen, Ms. Faulkner? What kind of justice is that?

Sincerely,

Benjamin Greenberg
Boston, Massachusetts

By William "Meatball" Douthard

The Summer of 1963 was very hot in the South, especially Gadsden, a northern Alabama city of 75,000 of which 28-30,000 are Negroes. It was there that local and state law enforcement officers waged their most vicious and brutal assault upon negroes protesting the inaccessibility of public facilities, voting rights and public accommodations in their city.

It was there the "cattle prod," a battery powered instrument used in most stockyards, capable of rendering a shock from 18-24 volts, was introduced as a weapon against civil rights demonstrators. It was there the theory of brutally beating Negroes in large numbers as a means of creating a blanket of fear in the community was initiated in the grandest of Southern style.

It was there that two C.O.R.E. field secretaries and three field representatives (myself and one of the latter) along with staff personnel of S.N.C.C. and S.C.L.C. learned the viciousness directed at Negroes seeking their rights.

I was relegated the task of directing the demonstrations which attempted to illustrate basic and constitutional rights denied Negroes in that city. From June 11-August 5, we demonstrated almost daily in an effort to bring the town to recognize the justice in our demands and the injustice of their denials. And in those weeks, I saw men, women, and children senselessly beaten without provocation, and then jailed for daring to ask for what was already theirs.

Vividly I remember the night of June 19, when over 500 Negroes, men, women, and children, assembled on the grounds of the County Courthouse and jail, to hold a vigil of prayer in protest of the arrest of some 600 students and adults the previous day. While watching from my top floor cell, I saw over 300 law officers of the city, county and state surround the protesters and begin their systematic beating of all. As the Negroes broke and ran they were chased on foot and in cars, overtaken and beaten again.

Leaving jail on bond, I resumed my job as director of demonstrations. By this time the pattern of resistance had formed and we were able to anticipate actions by the city and state authorities. What we didn't expect was the continuous beatings.

After sending out some 200 pickets, I left our workshop hall and started to walk two blocks to our office. Lined along 6th Street were scores of Highway Patrol (State Troopers) cars with two to four men. Not more than 3 feet in front of me, one driver, S. Trooper Brown, got out of his car and said, "Get in the car, boy." He then walked across the street and picked up C.O.R.E. Field Sec. Marvin Robinson, and placed him in the back seat with me.

Ironically, Marvin was walking to the Federal Building to protest to the F.B.I. a merciless beating inflicted upon me the day before by State troopers while a crowd of about 200 whites watched. After placing us in the car, Brown, while the other trooper in the car watched us, called Col. Al Lingo, Director of Alabama State Highway Patrol, and said:

"I've got Robinson and Meatball here, what do I do with them?" "Bring them in," said Lingo, to which Brown replied, "On what charges?" "Disturbing the peace or anything," said Col. Lingo. We were then taken to the back of the Etowah County Courthouse, where awaiting us stood Col. Lingo and his driver, Maj. Allen.

From our first encounter, Col. Lingo set the pace for our trip from the basement to the fourth floor via elevator. Approaching the steps to the basement of the courthouse, I was prodded by Brown. As we walked inside I mistakenly walked by the door that Lingo apparently intended for us to go through. Lingo then reached out, turned me around and slapped me through the door.

Marvin then made his mistake, by walking up the stair instead of down the corridor toward the elevator as I did. He paid for his mistake. Allen ordered Marvin down, and then began punching him in the stomach. After Allen had punched Marvin about four times, Brown began prodding him toward the elevator.

Marvin and I were then herded into the alcove opposite the elevator. Brown then began to consistently alternate in prodding Marvin and me. While leaning against the wall under pressure of the prodding, Marvin's leg gave in and he slipped to the floor. Immediately they pounced on him—Allen punching and kicking while Brown held the prodder to Marvin's chest. When Marvin started yelling in pain, Allen ordered a halt until we go in the elevator so as to minimize the chances of being heard. After entering the elevator, we were constantly punched and prodded until we reached the fourth floor.

This was Gadsden, July, 1963.

(Editor's note: Since coming to New York, the young author of this first person account of Alabama "law enforcement" has joined the Fourth A.D. North Liberal Club and is planning a career in the law.)

[The Liberal News (Official Publication of the Liberal Party of New York State), Vol. VI, No. 6, February-March 1965. Editor's note is in the original.]

I first mentioned William Douthard in passing here. At the right is a flier from a civil rights rally I think my father organized, where William spoke (click on the image to enlarge).

William Douthard was a student demonstration leader in Birmingham, Alabama, which was where he and my father met. To many in the Movement, he was known as "Meatball." I always knew him as William.

I have strong memories of William because in 1978 he moved to Bethlehem, NY (a suburb south of Albany), where my family was living. He lived at our house for a while until his job started and he found his own place. One of my vivid memories of when he stayted with us was the time William took me to the Bethlehem Public Library and taught me how to do library research on the Fabian Society. (I believe the topic was suggested by my father, certainly not by my teachers). At one point, as William was guiding me through the process of putting my notes onto index cards, he suddenly stopped me and reprimanded me somewhat sternly for using a word in my notes that I didn't know the meaning of. He insisted I go over to the dictionary and find out the definition before I continued with anything else. At home, it was common to find William and Dad sitting at our kitchen table and playing pinochle for hours on end. I don't remember ever hearing them reminisce about working together in Alabama. Not needing to talk about it may have been the point: they had a strong mutual understanding, and that was probably comforting.

William moved into a condominium on one of the northernmost edges of Slingerlands, the next hamlet over from us in the same town, nestled between the borders of Albany and Guilderland. He married his second wife within the first year or so of being there, and she and her son Kip, a few years older than I, moved in. The condo was on a hill, overlooking the the Normanskill Creek, which forms the northern border of the town of Bethlehem. William had sliding glass doors that opened out onto a concrete patio on the crest of the hill. I remember a barbecue out there, probably the summer of 1979. Kip took me down the hill, over to the other side of Blessing Road, where you can walk down a steep slope, under the spot where Blessing Road runs into Rt. 85. Kip showed me where you can get onto the cross beams underneath the bridge that carries Rt. 85 over the Kill. I was too scared to come out as far as he did on the steel beams, with the cars making the whole structure tremble as they passed. Later on indoors, I wandered into William and Kim's room. On the wall, above the bed, was a poster size head shot of William. Over the poster was a clear, plastic sheet, with red concentric circles, making a bulls eye over William's animated face, and with several darts stuck through, into the wall.

We saw a lot of William until 1981, when he died very young, just shy of his 34th birthday. I don't remember what put him in the hospital (I was 11 at the time), but he developed a blood clot, which was the cause of death.

In the early 1960s in his home town of Birmingham, Alabama he was a leader of the Alabama Student Movement for Human Rights . . . He joined the field staff of the SCLC in 1961 and worked in various campaigns until 1964 when he joined the staff of CORE. Late in 1964 he moved to NYC and worked for the International Ladies Garment Workers Union in the Political Education Department. From 1968-1978 William worked with several agencies dealing with the problems of urban youth in NYC, including the Addiction Service Agency and The Family Youth Center in Brooklyn which was unique in its efforts as a community based program.William was involved in the peace movement as well. He sat on the executive committee of the War Resistors League and served on the Board of Directors of WIN, a publication of the peace movement. He also served on the board of the AJ Muste Memorial Institute.

In 1978 William came to Albany to join the affirmative action staff of the Department of Taxation and Finance, serving as Supervisor of Affirmative Action Plan and Program. His remarkable leadership talents were recognized; and after a short term as Director of Affirmative Action at the Office of Mental Retardation, he was appointed Assistant Commissioner for Affirmative Action in the Department of Corrections where he was serving at the time of his death.

(from the program booklet of William Douthard's Eulogistic Service, held at the Bethel Baptist Church, Birmingham, Alabama, Saturday, January 10, 1981)

When William first moved to New York City, he lived with my parents then, too, in their co-op apartment on the Lower East Side. William's job at the the NYS Tax Department was through my father, who was Secretary to the Tax Commission. William's first job in NYC, with the ILGWU, was probably also through my father, since the ILGWU was headed by David Dubinsky, and my father worked closely with Dubinsky at the Liberal Party of NY. William also moved quickly into Liberal Party circles, as is evidenced in the February/March edition of the Liberal News, from which I will be posting excerpts soon.

The War Resisters League established a fund in William's memory after he died. While he was alive, William used to send us WRL Peace Desk Calendars each year. We continued buying the calendars for a number of years after he died.

Courtesy of the Arkansas Delta Peace and Justice Center

On page 229 of James Dickerson's 1998 book Dixie's Dirty Secret the author quotes retired FBI agent Joe Sullivan as follows:

"We probably made a mistake of not making a more intensive probe of the Commission [Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission]; I think that was perhaps the key to a lot of the problems. I was aware they had money. I always suspected the White Knights were funded in some fashion by the Commission. In the years that followed, I wished we had done some probing in that area. We had nothing that would allow us to subpoena the documents."

Joe Sullivan was in charge of the FBI's effort to track down the killers of the three civil rights workers, James Chaney, Michael Schwerner, and Andrew Goodman.

Sorry it's been so quiet over here. Had a bad cold last week and was also working on some writing for print publication (more on that soon).

Over Memorial Day weekend we visited my mother, and I spent some more time with my father's papers. I brought a bunch of new papers back home, some of which will be making their way into new posts soon.

New documents include some reports dad wrote for the United Furniture Workers of America, when he was their research director in the late 50s, some issues of the Furniture Workers' newspaper and of the Liberal News, the old newspaper of the Liberal Party of New York, and a lot of stuff relating to dad's work on changing the NYC School Board elections over to the system of Proportional Representation. The Liberal News includes a number of articles by dad and, I am very excited to say, a first hand account by my father's friend William Douthard (aka Meatball to Movement people) of civil rights demonstrations that he led Alabama.

Similar to how I intend my work on my father to illuminate the life of his friend Frankie Newton, I also intend to have this project include things about William, who died much too young in 1981, at the age of 33. In 1978, when I was 9, William moved to the Albany, NY area and lived with my family until his new job fell into place and he had a place to live, and we continued to spend time with him and his wife Kim and their son Kip (from Kim's previous marriage) for the next three years, until his untimely death from a blood clot. William was a marvelous man. It's hard to believe that when I knew him he was younger than I am now. More on William soon . . .

Susan picks up on Ben Chaney's point about the relationship between the Sovereignty Commission and the Klan and how that relationship plays itself out in the present, with powerful people like Trent Lott:

U.S. Senator Trent Lott, who, while a student at the University of Mississippi, was an "actor" with the Commission, also supports not prosecuting the Klansmen. In 1989, through a spokesperson, Senator Lott stated: "While this was a sad chapter in our nation's history [i.e., the murders of Chaney, Goodman and Schwerner], the events have and will continue to speak for themselves. I prefer to focus on the progress Mississippi has made." ("Cochran, Lott Won't Sign Resolution for Slain Activists," Clarion Ledger (June 28, 1989).)

Susan explains that

The point Ben Chaney makes regarding the relationship of the Klan to the Sovereignty Commission is particularly interesting in light of the "investigation" of "subversives working for integration" called for by the Commission (report SCR ID # 2-112-1-36-1-1-1)in February of 1964.

From Feb. 11-25, Director Erle Johnston sent Virgil Downing into Neshoba, Holmes, Sharkey, Yazoo, Washington and several other counties with instructions to contact all newly elected sheriffs with the purpose of offering "full cooperation and assisting them in any way possible." Both CORE and the NAACP are singled out in this report as causing potential racial trouble.

While Sheriff Rainey was "out of town" the investigator met with Rainey's wife who promised "should any trouble develop" her husband would notify the Commission right away. The short, two-page report is posted on my blog.

Here's the document Susan refers to:

(Page 1 of 2)

Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission Records
SCR ID # 2-112-1-36-1-1-1
Mississippi Department of Archives & History
http://www.mdah.state.ms.us

Fantasy:

For 40 years Philadelphia and Neshoba County have been synonymous with redneck vigilante justice, and we’ve been saddled with the “Mississippi Burning” stereotypes. The role of law enforcement in the murder conspiracy seems to amplify the disdain outside observers feel, a certain breakdown in civility and law and order.

Most decent people here have felt the shame of a crime unpunished and applaud justice.

Before us is an historic opportunity to once and for all set the record straight, to do the right thing by bringing the murder or murders to justice.

("The Trial of the century" (Editorial) The Neshoba Democrat, April 6, 2005)

Experience:

A British journalist was reportedly assaulted last week while talking to a county resident about the upcoming trial of accused murder Edgar Ray Killen, the authorities said. . . .

Officials said Andrew Buncombe, a Washington correspondent for The Independent, stopped at a house on County Road 515 to speak with a resident about the Killen trial when an elderly white male assaulted him with what appeared to be a metal pipe.

Road 515 is the road on which the civil rights workers were murdered and where Killen lives. . . .

Buncombe said he walked into the yard Wednesday at about 2 p.m., and began a conversation about roses that were growing in the yard. When the reporter brought up the murders the man reached for the pipe from the back of a pick-up truck, Buncombe said.

Buncombe suffered a severe blow to his right hand and was hit on the back of one of his legs.

(Kenneth Billings, "Reporter beaten on rural road," The Neshoba Democrat, June 1, 2005)

Analysis:

The deputy sheriffs, the soldiers, the governors get paid,
And the marshals and cops get the same,
But the poor white man's used in the hands of them all like a tool.
He's taught in his school
From the start by the rule
That the laws are with him
To protect his white skin
To keep up his hate
So he never thinks straight
'Bout the shape that he's in
But it ain't him to blame
He's only a pawn in their game.

(Bob Dylan, "Only A Pawn In Their Game")

The following excerpts are from an article by Ben Chaney, based on a speech he gave at the New York Bar Association in 1999.

Schwerner, Chaney, and Goodman: The Struggle for Justice

By Ben Chaney

The History

The State of Mississippi has never filed criminal murder charges against any of the men involved in the murders [of Schwerner, Chaney and Goodman]. After careful review of the available evidence, including the 2,900 pages of the transcript from the 1967 federal trial, a list of exhibits found in the appendix to the decision of the Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit, and two signed confessions, it is evident that an organization known as the Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission was complicit in the murders of the three civil rights workers.

The Sovereignty Commission. In March 1956, Mississippi Governor J.P. Coleman made a request of the Mississippi legislature to enact a state sovereignty bill that would preserve segregation of the races in the state." (Beverly Pettigrew Kraft, "Mississippi Is Final Battleground for Activists Trying to End Spying by States," Clarion Ledger, July 28, 1989.) The Mississippi legislature responded by creating the Missis-sippi State Sovereignty Commission (the Commission). The Commission's purpose was to investigate, collect, and disseminate information on so-called race agitators and subversives. To accomplish its goals and to maintain its statewide intelligence network, the Commission hired investigators and informants to gather information on civil rights workers, and even paid African American leaders to inform on civil rights workers in their own communities. In addition, the Commission collaborated with law enforcement officers who were sympathetic to and actively supported the Ku Klux Klan (the Klan).

The Commission was composed of some of the most powerful figures in the state, including the governor, the state attorney general, the president of the state senate, and the speaker of the state house of representatives. Other members included state supreme court judges, senators, and members of the state house of representatives. The relationship between the Commission and these high ranking state officials provided additional legitimacy to the organization.

Although there is no physical evidence that the Commission directly participated in these murders, a mountain of circumstantial evidence, documented within the Commission's own files, confirms that: (1) the Commission provided legitimacy to the White Citizens' Council and the Klan; (2) the Commission was a source of information for the Citizens' Council and the Klan; (3) the Commission worked to impede the federal investigation of the murders; (4) it thwarted a state prosecution; (5) then-Governor (and Commission member) Paul Johnson withheld information from the FBI; and (6) by gathering and distributing information about Michael Schwerner and his travel plans to Klansmen in Meridian and Philadelphia, Mississippi, the Commission participated in the murders of Schwerner, Chaney, and Goodman. The Commission, the White Citizens' Council, and the Klan. From the beginning, the Commission was comprised largely of men from the White Citizens' Council (Citizens' Council), an organization commonly described as "a current version of the Klan," a "scrubbed-up cousin of the Klan," "a white collar Klan," "an uptown Klan," a "button-down Klan," and a "country club Klan." (Neil McMillan, The Citizens' Council: Organized Resistance to the Second Reconstruction 1954-1964 (1971).) Because the members of the Commission were also members of the Citizens' Council, the Citizens' Council was able to use the Commission to spread its influence into every agency in Mississippi, while the Commission collaborated with the most insidious segregationists in the state.

There was an unofficial relationship between the Commission and the Klan. Members of the Citizens' Council were also Klansmen, and the more influential the Citizens' Council member, the more influence he had with the Klan.

Freedom Summer

In April 1964, the Klan voted to eliminate Michael Schwerner and made that intention a part of its program. (Federal Trial Transcripts, 765-66 (1967).) By May, the plan to eliminate Schwerner was in place. (Johnston, Erle, Report on Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission: 1964-1967)

A Web of Conspiracy. In January, after Schwerner and his wife, Rita, arrived in Mississippi and began working in a community center in Meridian, three investigators from the Commission "made a personal visit to each sheriff in the 82 [Mississippi] counties . . . . During these trips to each county, the investigators updated [their] files on [the] activities of subversives and agitators." (Johnston, Erle, Report on Mississippi State Sovereignty Commission: 1964-1967) Commission records indicated that in February 1964, a member of the Citizens' Council obtained the license plate number of Schwerner's car and circulated a description of the car throughout the state. (Jerry Mitchell, "State Spied on Schwerner 3 Months Before Death," Clarion-Ledger (Sept. 10, 1989).)

In March, the Commission began an intensive surveillance of the Schwerners. (Id.) A.L. Hopkins, a Commission investigator, reported: "Both Michael and Rita Schwerner are in Meridian working for CORE (Congress of Racial Equality). Their purpose there is evidently to contact local Negroes for the purpose of encouraging them to register to vote and also to teach them how to pass the voter registration examination." (A.L. Hopkins, Investigation of Unknown White Male CORE Worker in Meridian, Mississippi (Mar. 19, 1964).) Less than three months after the Schwerners' arrival in Mississippi, the Commission knew where they lived, where they worked, whom they saw, and their mode of transportation.

Obstacles to Reopening the Case

Since the 1960s, Mississippi's most powerful leaders have resisted charging the killers and/or those who aided the killers with the murders of Michael Schwerner, James Chaney, and Andrew Goodman. In 1964, Governor Paul B. Johnson vehemently opposed charging the Klansmen with murder, stating that "we did not have a case that would stand up, that there was no sense in making the arrest unless the case would hold . . . . it [a murder trial] would be laughed out of the country." (Paul Johnson, Oral History (1970).)

On September 24, 1997, I wrote Mississippi Attorney General Mike Moore urging him to reinvestigate the murders. His response, through his assistant, was that his "office does not have the authority to reopen the case." The Mississippi Constitution and the Mississippi Supreme Court afford Mississippi's attorney general all the authority and powers needed to convene a grand jury and prosecute the murderers of Schwerner, Chaney, and Goodman. (Miss. Const., art. 6, § 173.)

It is generally recognized that the attorney general is authorized to prosecute criminal cases whenever statewide interest requires. (State v. Key, 93 Miss. 115, 118, 46 So. 75, 76 (1908).) Attorney General Moore ultimately determines matters of statewide interest. Further, under section 7-5-1 of the Mississippi Code of 1972, he is the "chief legal officer and advisor for the state, both civil and criminal, and is charged with managing all litigation on behalf of the state." "It would appear that his [Attorney General Moore's] common law power accords him the right to do any act which a District Attorney might do, even without statutory recognition of subpoena and/or investigative authority; that is, the attorney general can do each and everything essential to prosecute in accordance with the law of the land, including investigating and appearing before a Grand Jury in prosecuting a criminal action." (H.M. Ray, "Constitutional and Statutory Authority of the Attorney General to Prosecute Actions," 59 Mississippi Law J. 6 (1989).)

In fact, we have learned that in 1989 Special Assistant Attorneys General John R. Henry and Jack B. Lacy, Jr., in a report to Attorney General Moore recommended that his office prosecute the murderers of Michael Schwerner, James Chaney, and Andrew Goodman. In their report, Henry and Lacy concluded that "enough vital evidence existed" for a state prosecution. (Jerry Mitchell, "Crimes of the Past," Clarion Ledger (Feb. 2, 1999).)

Attorney General Moore is a powerful man. He has the authority to dispense justice arbitrarily, and he is supported by other powerful men. U.S. Senator Trent Lott, who, while a student at the University of Mississippi, was an "actor" with the Commission, also supports not prosecuting the Klansmen. In 1989, through a spokesperson, Senator Lott stated: "While this was a sad chapter in our nation's history, the events have and will continue to speak for themselves. I prefer to focus on the progress Mississippi has made." ("Cochran, Lott Won't Sign Resolution for Slain Activists," Clarion Ledger (June 28, 1989).)

Ben Chaney is the founder and president of The James Earl Chaney Foundation. His brother, James Chaney, a civil rights worker, was murdered by the Ku Klux Klan along with Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman.

(On the topic of obstacles to reopening the case, please also read Miss. AG Jim Hood news conference summary: Neshoba murders case by the Arkansas Delta Peace And Justice Center.)

Earlier today I took the trouble to tag all of my posts that pertain to the murders of James Chaney, Michael Schwerner and Andrew Goodman with a new category, neshoba murders. Because issues of truth and justice around that case have become a regular subject on HungryBlues and because the trial date for Edgar Ray Killen is approaching, I thought it might be useful to have all of those posts grouped together.

Update: I missed a few posts yesterday. I think I've got all the relevant ones tagged with the new category now.