'They set up camp under the stately oaks, and milled around the lawn inspecting things. They arranged tables and chairs and playpens. They were indeed peaceful, until a group began the familiar cry of "Free Carl Lee!" They cleared their throats and joined in. It was not yet eight o'clock.
A black radio station in Memphis flooded the airwaves early Tuesday with a call for help. Black bodies were needed to march and demonstrate in Clanton, Mississippi, an hour away. Hundreds of cars met at a mall and headed south.
Every civil rights activist and black politician in the city made the trip.
Chapter Thirty
Agee was a man possessed. He used a bullhorn to shout orders here and there. He herded new arrivals into their places. He organized the black preachers. He assured Ozzie and the colonel everything was okay.
Everything was okay until a handful of Klansmen made their routine appearance. The sight of the white robes was new to many of the blacks, and they reacted loudly. They inched forward, screaming and jeering. The troops surrounded the robes and protected them. The Kluxers were stunned and scared, and did not yell back.
By eight-thirty, the streets of Clanton were gridlocked. Deserted cars, vans, and buses were scattered haphazardly through parking lots and along the quiet residential streets. A steady stream of blacks walked toward the square from all directions. Traffic did not move. Driveways were blocked. Merchants parked blocks away from their shops. The mayor stood in the center of the gazebo, wringing his hands and begging Ozzie to do something. Around him thousands of blacks swarmed and yelled in perfect unison. Ozzie asked the mayor if he wanted him to start arresting everybody on the courthouse lawn.
Noose parked at a service station a half mile south of the jail, and walked with a group of blacks to the courthouse. They watched him curiously, but said nothing. No one would suspect he was a person of authority. Buckley and Musgrove parked in a driveway on Adams Street. They cursed and walked toward the square. They noticed the pile of rubble that had been Jake's house but said nothing. They were too busy cursing. With state troopers leading the way, the Greyhound from Temple reached the square at twenty minutes after nine. Through the dark windows, the fourteen passengers stared in disbelief at the carnival around the courthouse.
Mr. Pate called the packed courtroom to order, and Noose welcomed his jury. He apologized for the trouble outside, but there was nothing he could do. If there were no problems to report, they could continue deliberations.
"Very well, you may retire to the jury room and get to work. We will meet again just before lunch."
The jurors filed out and went to the jury room. The Hailey children sat with their father at the defense table. The spectators, now predominantly black, remained seated and struck up conversations. Jake returned to his office.
Foreman Acker sat at the end of the long, dusty table and thought of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Ford Countians who had served in this room and sat around this table and argued about justice over the past century. Any pride he may have felt for serving on the jury of the most famous case was greatly overshadowed by what happened last night. He wondered how many of his predecessors had been threatened with death. Probably a few, he decided.
The others fixed their coffee and slowly found seats around the tables. The room brought back fond memories for Clyde Sisco. Prior jury duty had proved lucrative for him, and he relished the thought of another handsome payoff for another just and true verdict. His messenger had not contacted him.
"How would y'all like to proceed?" the foreman asked.
Rita Mae Plunk had an especially hard and unforgiving look about her. She was a rough woman with a house trailer, no husband, and two outlaws for sons, both of whom had expressed hatred for Carl Lee Hailey. She had a few things she wanted to get off her large chest.
"I got a few things I wanna say," she informed Acker.
"Fine. Why don't we start with you, Miss Plunk, and go around the table."
"I voted guilty yesterday in the first vote, and I'll vote guilty next time. I don't see how anybody could vote not guilty, and I want just one of you to explain to me how you could vote in favor of this nigger!"
"Don't say that word again!" yelled Wanda Womack.
"I'll say 'nigger' if I wanna say 'nigger,' and there ain't a damned thing you can do," replied Rita Mae.
"Please don't use that word," said Frances McGowan.
"I find it personally offensive," said Wanda Womack.
"Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger," Rita Mae yelled across the table.
"Come on," said Clyde Sisco.
"Oh boy," said the foreman. "Look, Miss Plunk, let's be honest, okay. Most of us use that word, from time to time.
I'm sure some of us use it more than others. But it's offensive to many people, and I think it'd be a good idea not to use it during our deliberations. We've got enough to worry about as it is. Can we all agree not to use that word?"
Everyone nodded but Rita Mae.
Sue Williams decided to answer. She was well dressed, attractive, about forty. She worked for the county welfare department. "I didn't vote yesterday. I passed. But I tend to sympathize with Mr. Hailey. I have a daughter, and if she was raped, it would greatly affect my mental stability. I can understand how a parent might crack in that situation, and I think it's unfair for us to judge Mr. Hailey as if he was supposed to act completely rational."
"You think he was legally insane?" asked Reba Betts, an undecided.
"I'm not sure. But I know he wasn't stable. He couldn't have been."
"So you believe that nut of a doctor who testified for him?" asked Rita Mae.
"Yes. He was as believable as the State's doctor."
"I liked his boots," said Clyde Sisco. No one laughed.
"But he's a convict," said Rita Mae. "He lied and tried to cover Ft up. You can't believe a word he said."
"He had sex with a girl under eighteen," Clyde said. "If that's a crime, then a bunch of us should've been indicted."
Again, no one appreciated the attempt at humor. Clyde decided to stay quiet for a while.
"He later married the girl," said Donna Lou Peck, an undecided.
They went around the table, one at a time, expressing opinions and answering questions. The N word was carefully avoided by those wanting a conviction. The battle lines became clearer. Most of the undecideds leaned toward guilty, it seemed. The careful planning by Carl Lee, knowing the exact movements of the boys, the M-16-it all seemed so premeditated. If he had caught them in the act and killed them on the spot, he would not be held accountable. But to plan it so carefully for six days did not indicate an insane mind.
Wanda Womack, Sue Williams, and Clyde Sisco leaned
toward acquittal-the rest toward conviction. Barry Acker was noticeably noncommittal.
Agee unfurled a long blue and white FREE CARL LEE banner. The ministers gathered fifteen abreast behind it, and waited for the parade to form behind them. They stood in the center of Jackson Street, in front of the courthouse, while Agee screamed instructions to the masses. Thousands of blacks packed tightly behind them, and off they went. They inched down Jackson, and turned left on Caffey, up the west side of the square. Agee led the marchers in their now familiar battle cry of "Free Carl Lee! Free Carl Lee!" They screamed it in an endless, repetitive, numbing chorus. As the crowd moved around the square, it grew in number and volume.
Smelling trouble, the merchants locked up and headed for home and safety. They checked their policies to see if they were insured for riot damage. The green soldiers were lost in a sea of black. The colonel, sweating and nervous, ordered his troops to circle the courthouse and stand firm. While Agee and the marchers were turning onto Washington Street, Ozzie met with the handful of Kluxers. In a sincere and diplomatic way, he convinced them things could get out of hand, and he could no longer guarantee their safety. He acknowledged their right to assemble, said they had made their point, and asked them to get away from the square before there was trouble. They huddled quickly, and disappeared.