BOOK
REVIEW
Sukey Wolf
February 2017
February 2017
Southern trees bear
strange fruit, / Blood on
the leaves and blood at the
root.
Using
these lyrics from a poem by
Abel Meeropol, immortalized in
Billie Holliday’s song about
lynching, author Patrick
Phillips opens his tale of
terror, theft and racial
apartheid in one Georgia
county, USA. Following a
brutal assault on a white
woman in 1912, the white
residents of Forsyth County
quickly blamed some black
teens, and lynched one of them
in the town square the very
next day. The two other
defendants, Ernest Knox and
Oscar Daniels, were quickly
found guilty in a sham one-day
trial, and hanged. One of the
boys had a noose placed around
his neck to extract a
confession.
Blood at the Root
describes all-too-familiar
racist atrocities — a corrupt
local sheriff, a kangaroo
court, the never-ending threat
of violence toward Black
Americans under many decades
of Jim Crow. But what happened
next was an even graver
travesty.
A
reign of white terrorism
descended on Forsyth County
after the trial. Black
churches were burned down,
Black sharecroppers blasted
from their cabins by sticks of
dynamite, and Black landowners
forced to abandon their farms
in the middle of the night.
The goal was to drive every
African American out of the
area, an entirely successful
goal for nearly 80 years. So
effective, Phillips points
out, that Forsyth County never
found it necessary to post the
“whites only” signs so
indicative of the Jim Crow
South.
Scrupulous
history. Phillips
does not merely recite the
story of the forced Black
exodus, however. The first
third of Blood at the Root is
devoted to a meticulous
examination of the Jim Crow
world in which both victims
and perpetrators lived.
Phillips’ research reveals the
individual Black residents
whose lives were ruptured.
There are excruciating photos
of lynching victims, along
with the particulars of their
ordeals. He was even able to
unearth contemporary photos of
some of the people he writes
about.
In
one appalling story, Phillips
tells of Laura Nelson from
another county in Georgia.
When she protested the
abduction and lynching,
threatening to swear out a
complaint, she was lynched on
the spot. Pregnant at the
time, Nelson was hanged upside
down and set on fire. The baby
was cut from its mother’s womb
and stomped to death.
Another
woman was hanged by a white
mob after she protested the
treatment of her 15-year-old
son who was accused of
stealing.
These
gruesome tales illustrate how
lynching was not exclusively
committed against Black men
accused of raping white women.
It was a chilling weapon used
against a whole
“wrong-colored”
population.
Then and now.
Phillips is not just a careful
historian or journalist,
however. He grew up in Forsyth
County, moving there with his
family in the 1970s. Blood
at the Root is his toil
to uncover the truth of
Forsyth County’s legacy of
white supremacy. A Black woman
friend not raised in Forsyth
urged him to take on this
task. Through painstaking
research, Phillips forces
readers to confront this
country’s legacy. We learn the
names of lynching victims,
their trumped-up crimes, the
names of their murderers. We
learn about the former slave
who owned the land stolen by
white neighbors, and what
happened to the Black
residents of Forsyth County
once they were forced out.
There
is a long section devoted to
the crooked dealings of the
local sheriff. And we are told
about Joseph Kellogg, a former
slave, who owned 120 acres
stolen by whites. Clearly,
whites’ land theft was a
primary reason Black
landowners were run out of the
county.
Forsyth
County did not have a civil
rights demonstration until
1987, on the second
anniversary of Martin Luther
King day. By then the more
progressive population of
Atlanta had expanded north.
Phillips’ parents and sister
participated in the march and
his mother wound up testifying
against the local thugs who
rioted against marchers that
day. Today, anti-racist
residents of Forsyth County
far outnumber those thugs.
Reading
Blood at the Root,
I was struck over and over
with one thought. Whites in
the United States are more
than likely living under
apartheid this very day. They
tend to marry each other, live
together, socialize and attend
school in largely segregated
neighborhoods. For all the
progress among individuals in
mitigating racism over the
last 100 years, the stubborn
fact of ongoing segregation in
U.S. society is like the
elephant in the room — we all
know it’s there.
In
his fine book, Patrick
Phillips provides the tools to
broaden readers’
self-education, and stirs us
to tackle apartheid lifestyle
in the here-and-now. It’s
going to take a conscious,
multi-hued political movement
to challenge the systemic race
segregation that still defines
this land.
For feedback, contact the
author at FSnews@mindspring.com.
To listen to this and other
articles from this issue,
click here.
No comments:
Post a Comment