In 1965, Emzie Wilder’s brother, John Wesley Wilder, was shot and killed by police officer Edward Alton Nugent in Ruston, Louisiana.

Today Emzie is 92 years old, living in Shreveport, Louisiana. I’ve spoken with Emzie and his daughter Shedonna Wilder-Martin for “A Death Ruled ‘Justifiable’: The Killing of John Wesley Wilder,” my contribution to Still Paying the Price: Reparations in Real Terms, a new podcast series from LWC Studios. I reported, produced and wrote the episode, which was made in partnership with the nonprofit newsroom Type Investigations and with support from the Fund for Investigative Journalism.

It was a little after 2:00 AM on a Saturday in Ruston in July of 1965. Officer Nugent came driving down Jones Street as John Wilder was staggering out of a cafe where he’d been drinking. Nugent was white. Wilder was Black. What happened next is still disputed today, but Nugent shot Wilder five times.

Local authorities quickly ruled the death a justifiable homicide in self-defense.

Excerpt from the July 19, 1965 Ruston Daily Leader article on the killing of John Wesley Wilder by Ruston police officer Edward Alton Nugent.

For the next four decades, the Wilders privately carried their loss. But in 2008, groundbreaking legislation introduced by U.S. Representative John Lewis offered new hope to scores of families like the Wilders. The Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act (PDF) directed the Department of Justice and the FBI to investigate unpunished racially-motivated homicides from before 1970.

After three years of an investigation that appeared minimal at best, the Justice Department closed the Wilder case again in 2011, concluding that “there is insufficient evidence to contradict [the officer’s] account that he fired in self-defense.”

When I first looked at this case a few years ago, I saw a Justice Department document from 2011 that said Nugent was then alive—and he’s still alive today.

My business card and a page from a 1965 witness affidavit left on the windshield of former Ruston, Louisiana police officer Edward Alton Nugent’s pickup truck, at his home in Ruston. A note on the business card reads, “I want to talk about John Wilder. Please call me.” Credit: Ben Greenberg

I also saw that Emzie talked to the press in 1965 and said “the truth has not been told” and that there were eyewitnesses who said John “offered no opposition before he was shot.”

“In the event Ruston does not do something,” Emzie said, “my family and I will have to seek help from the NAACP, CORE and others anxious to move in to make sure that my brother did not die in vain.”

I wanted to know more about Emzie’s fight for justice, and I wanted to know about those eyewitnesses. According to public records, Emzie was also still alive, in his early 90s. Did the FBI talk to him? Did the bureau try to locate the witnesses? I left Emzie some phone messages and sent him a letter but did not hear back from him.

But then I reached his daughter Shedonna, who was 5 when her uncle John was killed. Shedonna did not know that John was killed by a police officer.

“What I was told was that my uncle was in an altercation, in a fight,” Shedonna later explained. “I’d never heard anything about it being a police officer. I never heard anything about it being a white police officer.”

This got Shedonna and her father talking, and this past November I met them both for the first time at Emzie’s house in Shreveport.

By this time, I had also found in an archive sworn statements from Black eyewitnesses—gathered by Emzie with help from the local NAACP in the months following the shooting. The witnesses all said that Nugent initiated the confrontation with Wilder and that there was no physical contact or scuffling that could have been interpreted by Nugent to be an attack from Wilder.

Excerpt from sworn affidavit by Pervis Clemmons, September 6, 1965, Rabinowitz, Boudin, Standard, Krinsky and Lieberman Legal Files, Tamiment Library and Robert F. Wagner Labor Archives

And not long after I met Emzie and Shedonna, I found another eyewitness who did not give an affidavit in 1965. His name is Bill Smith.

Bill Smith stands on Jones Street in Ruston, Louisiana, in front of the former cafe, near the spot where John Wilder was killed. Photo by Ben Greenberg

Sixteen years old in 1965, Smith says he was there on Jones Street when Edward Nugent Shot John Wilder. And Smith agrees with the other witnesses. He says that Nugent shot Wilder without any provocation at all. He also says that the FBI has never spoken to him about the killing. And Smith wants accountability for Wilder’s death. “The system is only as good as we make the system,” he said.

There is, in fact, substantial evidence contradicting Edward Nugent’s account that he fired in self defense.

Cynthia Deitle, former chief of the FBI civil rights unit, says the new evidence should prompt the Justice Department to reopen the case.

Cynthia Deitle. Photo courtesy of Cynthia Deitle

“I would hope that in this case, the FBI would reach out and see what more can be done,” Deitle said.

Is justice still possible for John Wesley Wilder, and what would it look like?

Listen to the whole story in the player, above, or wherever you get your podcasts.

For more information, all episodes and transcripts, visit stillpayingthepricepod.com. This series was funded by a grant from The John D. and Catherine T. MacArthur Foundation.

Near midnight on February 28, 1964, a mob of whites ambushed Clifton Earl Walker, Jr. on a dirt road in Southwest Mississippi. They stopped his car, gathered around it with shotguns and fired in at close range. It was possibly the first organized lynching of a Black man by the Mississippi White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. No arrests have ever been made. The murder could still be solved.

Clifton Walker. Photo courtesy of Catherine Walker Jones

It is hard to overstate the viciousness of the white killing frenzy. They shot out all of the windows in Walker’s car. Multiple bullet holes were observed in at least one door. The steering wheel was shot off. Walker’s face was blown apart. “I can remember running under the tape, looking at the car,” after the body was removed, said Walker’s daughter Catherine. “The carpet was saturated with blood…. They removed me from under there, and everything else was just a blur.” She was 14.

Catherine Walker stands looking at her father’s grave, outside Woodville, Miss. Photo by Ben Greenberg

The Mississippi Highway Patrol wanted to arrest two suspects in 1964, but the DA would not charge them. The FBI was also investigating—but by the end of the year state and federal authorities both dropped the case. In 2009, the Department Of Justice returned to the case as part of a federal effort to grapple with America’s legacy of racist killings through the Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act.

A page from the 1964 FBI file on the Clifton Walker murder, obtained by a Freedom of Information Act request. A Mississippi Highway and Safety Patrol investigator had identified two possible suspects for the District Attorney to arrest. FBI documents also show that the DA said he had “insufficient evidence” to charge the suspects.

The Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act (PDF) was authored by US Representative John Lewis. To date, the FBI has examined cases of 151 victims of racist crimes. And the Justice Department has closed at least 128 of these cases without a single prosecution.

US Representative John Lewis at a 2017 rally at the U.S. Capitol to defend the Affordable Care Act.Photo by Mobilus In Mobili (WikiCommons)

The same year the FBI returned to the case, in 2009, I spoke to Rex Armistead—a retired Mississippi Highway Patrolman who led the state investigation in 1964. He told me the case could still be solved. He named a woman who had “all the information.” In 1964, at 21, she was the girlfriend of a notoriously violent Klansman named Ed Fuller, one of the men Armistead wanted to arrest. Fuller was long dead, but “she’s got all I think anybody would need,” Armistead said, and could easily still be alive.

Former Mississippi Highway Patrol investigator Rex Armistead in his Lula, Miss. home. Video still by Pete Nicks

Two years later, in 2011, I spoke on the phone with a Black man named Richard Joe Butler. On April 5, 1964, he was shot 3-4 times by a gang of hooded white men on the farm where he was a laborer, just 25 miles north of where Walker was murdered. Ed Fuller was also allegedly one of the men who shot Butler. In 2011, there were two other suspects in the Butler shooting who were still alive. One of them died in 2014, but the other is still alive in eastern Louisiana at 89.

Another lead involved a Black woman, named Mary Emma Sims (aka Emma Beasely). According to 1964 Highway Patrol documents, “she has knowledge of certain facts that would aid greatly in breaking this case.” I interviewed Sims twice in her Centreville, Miss. home. She was fearful and did not open up, even when Walker’s daughter Catherine was with me on the second interview. Sims died in 2013 and took whatever she knew about the murder to her grave.

Emma Sims (left) seated in her home in Centreville, Miss. Catherine Walker Jones holds out a wallet sized photo of her father, as she asks Sims what she knows about the murder. Photo by Ben Greenberg

I had begun hearing from FBI agents assigned to re-investigate the Walker case in 2010. In 2011, I got a call from SA Bradley Hentchel, who was the third agent on the case since 2009. Hentchel wanted me to give him Emma Sims and my reporting notes, which included unpublished leads. When I refused, Hentschel told me it would be my fault if Justice Department closed the case.

“I do not want to close this case,” Hentschel said, “but if I can’t develop any further leads… it’s going to be a hard sell to the DOJ, to even my supervisor, that I need to be running around two, two and a half hours away from the [Jackson] office with the gas budget the way that it is and everything else, beating down leads on this case or on any other case where we don’t have any active information coming in.”

The Justice Department closed the Walker murder in 2013. Judging from the department’s closing memo on the case, the FBI did not try to Ed Fuller’s girlfriend. They did not speak with the known living suspects in the Butler case who could be directly implicated in or have knowledge of the Walker murder. The bureau also ignored a number of other significant leads that I reported on while the Walker case was still under review and in the years since it was closed again.

When I first started hearing from the FBI in 2010, it was just five days after I reported on my blog that the Walkers had not been contacted as part of the investigation. The agent on the phone asked me to help him set up a meeting with the family. But before the meeting could be arranged, he was transferred off the case, and Hentschel was brought on. Hentschel said he wanted “a substantive meeting with the family.” But the first time the Walkers heard from the FBI was in November 2013, when an agent appeared at Catherine’s home to hand deliver a letter from the Justice Department, notifying her that the case was again closed.

“To get that letter in November, on my mother’s birthday, November 21, 2013, to get that letter saying they closed the case, that was really a blow,” Catherine said. “They only reported what was already done. There was nothing new.”

Shirley Walker Wright (left) and Catherine Walker Jones (right) stand together for interview by Al Jazeera America at the murder scene on Poor House Road. Photo by Ben Greenberg

The next month, Catherine and two of her siblings, Shirley and Clifton, Jr., joined me back at the murder scene for an interview with Al Jazeera America. “We lost our father here. Our mother lost her husband here,” Catherine said, looking into the camera. “This place where Daddy was murdered has held all the secrets. Daddy, we are still seeking the truth. We want the world to know we will never stop.”

Learn more

Clifton Walker murder

• A Deep South Cold Case Goes Frigid (Narratively)
• Decades after slaying, Mississippi family seeks justice (USA Today)

Attempted murder of Richard Joe Butler

• Before ‘Freedom Summer,’ A Wave Of Violence Largely Forgotten (NPR)

The Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act

• Un(re)solved (Frontline PBS)

-xpost

Reply on Mastodon

-xpost

Reply on Mastodon

58 years ago today, on February 28, 1964, a white mob ambushed and murdered Clifton Earl Walker, Sr. on Poor House Road, outside Woodville, Miss.

The murder is thought to be the first organized shooting of an African American by members of the then newly formed Mississippi White Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. Walker was 37 years old. He and his wife, Ruby Phipps Walker, had five children: Rubystein, Catherine, Shirley, Clifton Jr. and Brenda. The Justice Department re-opened the case in 2009 and closed the case again in October of 2013, though the FBI left many leads unexplored.

In 2016, I published information about two living persons of interest who could be suspects in the murder or have close knowledge of it. According to public records, one of the two men, a white co-worker of Walker’s at the International Paper Plant in Natchez, died last month, on January 31, at 82, in Hattiesburg, Miss. The other man is still living at 88 years old in eastern Louisiana, according to public records. Both men escaped punishment for their alleged participation in the attempted murder of another Black man, named Richard Joe Butler, near Natchez, Miss., 6 weeks after Walker was murdered. Neither of the two men was interviewed by the FBI before the Justice Department closed the case in 2013.

Born in 1927 in Woodville, Miss., Clifton Walker was the last of nine children. Despite being the youngest, his siblings respected him. When he saw them arguing with their wives, he would “pull his brothers on the side and tell them you don’t talk to your wife that way,” Catherine once told me. “He was such a gentleman.” His family called him “Man,” and the nickname stuck.

One Sunday in 1943, walking home from Sunday school, he met Ruby C. Phipps. Two years later, they married, and “the young couple made a beautiful set,” she later wrote.

Some justice might still be possible for Man Walker. Ruby, died in 1992 and did not live see it. I hope his children still may.

The David Byrne concert in Boston on Tuesday night was as great or greater than any fan (and I am a big fan) would expect. But another great thing about the concert was being exposed to the music of Benjamin Clementine, who opened up for Byrne.

A Reuters study in 2016 found that at least 144,000 people were removed from the voting rolls in recent years in Ohio’s three largest counties, which are home to Cleveland, Cincinnati and Columbus.

“Voters have been struck from the rolls in Democratic-leaning neighborhoods at roughly twice the rate as in Republican neighborhoods,” the study found. “Neighborhoods that have a high proportion of poor, African-American residents are hit the hardest.”…

The Justice Department for decades took the position that failing to vote should not lead to disenfranchisement….

After the last presidential election, the department switched sides in the case, Husted v. A. Philip Randolph Institute, No. 16-980.

I had the honor of speaking in March at the Charles Hamilton Houston Institute for Race and Justice on the police killings of Army Cpl. Roman Ducksworth, Jr. in 1962 and Michael Brown, Jr. in 2014. The video of the talk is now online.

Oakland City Council unanimously passed the city’s “Rules for Surveillance”, the country’s most stringent police surveillance oversight law.

The law provides for a “Privacy Advisory Commission” and directs police to produce an annual report with fine-grained details of how surveillance technology was used. The Privacy Advisory Commission must be notified any time the city and its police seek funding or appropriations to procure any new surveillance technology. The city is also barred from entering into nondisclosure agreements with surveillance technology providers that would impair this transparency – a key provision, doubtless inspired by the Harris Corporation’s practice of binding police departments to secrecy over its Stingray cellphone spying devices, a bizarre attempt to thwart transparency that culminated with Federal agents raiding local police departments to seize evidence before it could be introduced in open court, which would have revealed the existence and characteristics of Stingray devices.

Now, prisoners instead will have to submit a request to purchase books — a limit of five per order — through an ordering system in which they must pay exorbitant prices and don’t have the option to buy cheaper used paperbacks. In addition, prisoners must pay a 30 percent tax plus shipping cost, according to prisoners and memos distributed in at least three BOP facilities. Under the new protocol, a book purchased from Amazon for as little as $11.76, with shipping included, could cost more than $26….

“An inmate’s contact list may not possess another inmate’s immediate family member, friend, or contact located on the inmate’s approved list,”… adding it will make exceptions for “attorneys, clerks of the court, and other contacts approved on a case-by-case basis.”…

Advocates say that the rule will cut off prisoners from communicating with advocates, pen pals, family members, friends, and journalists who are in touch with multiple prisoners in one facility.

“This will prevent us from assisting prisoners or learning about the very abuses we are discussing now,” Povah said. “It’s as if they want to cut prisoners off from the outside world altogether.”

Eluvium, Prelude for Time Feelers

A perfect example of what @mey621 and @heathermarlowe have been saying, here quoting University of Kansas law professor Corey Rayburn Yung:

Backlog “implies that the untested rape kits were in a queue awaiting testing by overburdened labs…. That does not reflect the reality across the United States. In fact, untested rape kits were often simply discarded in warehouses, trash depositories, or storage closets with no intention to ever test the contents of the kits.”

“I’m calling your supervisor,” Aubin said. “I’m gonna get you fired.” Aubin took out his cell phone, called the sheriff’s department, and started walking back towards his house. But before he made it inside, Durkin arrested him. The charge: intimidation of a public official — a felony that in Louisiana carries a maximum penalty of five years’ imprisonment….

[I]n nearby Tangipahoa Parish, when officers pepper sprayed a man named Travis Seals even though he was already in handcuffs. After telling the officers he was going to file a complaint against them, he too was charged with public intimidation.

Cf. Manton Reece, Why I Created Micro.blog and Dan Cohen, Back to the Blog

Roman Ducksworth in uniform. The Army Corporal was shot to death by a white Mississippi police officer in 1962. (Courtesy of Cordero Ducksworth and the Syracuse Cold Case Justice Initiative)

My article tells the story of the slaying and of its lasting effects on Ducksworth’s now deceased widow, Melva Ducksworth, on their eldest son Cordero, age 59, and on his cousin Odell, age 78:

In recent months, the nation has witnessed how questionable police shootings of African Americans can spark anger and unrest across a community. But long after the demonstrations end, the streets go quiet and the cameras leave, families of those killed have to find ways to cope with their loss. And that’s a private struggle that can last for decades and across generations.

Cordero Ducksworth has lived that struggle. He was 5 years old in 1962, when his father, Army Corporal Roman Ducksworth, Jr., was shot to death by William Kelly, a white Taylorsville, Miss. police officer.

Cordero Ducksworth, April 2010 at the Syracuse University Cold Case Justice Initiative’s It’s Never Too Late for Justice conference. (Photo credit: Syracuse University Cold Case Justice Initiative)

Ducksworth was stationed at Fort Ritchie, Md. in the spring of 1962 when he was traveling home by bus. His wife Melva was at a local hospital due to severe complications late in her pregnancy with their sixth child.

By the time the bus arrived on the night of April 9, Roman had fallen asleep and the driver called Officer William Kelly onto the bus to rouse him. Kelly instead arrested the serviceman for drunkenness, and directed him to a patrol car across the street.

That’s when things became violent. Once Ducksworth and Kelly were off the bus, they started to tussle, and the officer drew his gun and fired twice — once into the ground and once through Ducksworth’s chest. Corporal Roman Ducksworth, Jr., was pronounced dead on the scene. He was just 27 years old.

Odell Ducksworth, Heidelberg, Miss., June 20, 2016. He held his dying uncle, Roman Ducksworth, moments after the shooting. (Photo credit: Ben Greenberg)

Roman’s sister-in-law, Vera Ducksworth, and her son Odell had been at the station to pick him up. Instead, Odell held his uncle in the street as he died. The crowd dispersed, leaving Odell and Vera to watch over Roman’s body until an ambulance from a local black funeral home could get there. Roman died without knowing that Melva had given birth to a healthy baby girl.

Read the rest at Code Switch.

Now I have one radio-phonograph; I plan to have five. There is a certain acoustical deadness in my hole, and when I have music I want to feel its vibration, not only with my ear but with my whole body. I’d like to hear five recordings of Louis Armstrong playing and singing “What Did I Do to Be so Black and Blue”—all at the same time. Sometimes now I listen to Louis while I have my favorite desert of vanilla ice cream and sloe gin. I pour the red liquid over the white mound, watching it glisten and the vapor rising as Louis bends that military instrument into a beam of lyrical sound. Perhaps I like Louis Armstrong because he made poetry out of being invisible. I think it must be because he’s unaware that he is invisible. And my own grasp of invisibility aids me to understand his music. Once when I asked for a cigarette, some jokers gave me a reefer, which I lighted when I got home and sat listening to my phonograph. It was a strange evening. Invisibility, let me explain, gives one a slightly different sense of time, you’re never quite on the beat. Sometimes you’re ahead and sometimes you’re behind. Instead of the swift and imperceptible flowing of time, you are aware of its nodes, those points where time stands still or from which it leaps ahead. And you slip into the breaks and look around. That’s what you hear vaguely in Louis’ music. (Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man)

Louis Armstrong always said he was born this day, so I like to take the 4th as a day to honor him.

My love of Louis’ music is something I inherited from my dad.

There was an AM station in Albany, New York that played the jazz of the 20s, 30s and 40s that Dad grew up on. When I was a kid and we went places in the car, I usually took control of the radio to hear the classic rock or top 40 stations. But sometimes Dad would have us listen to the jazz station.

It all sounded the same to me then, but he’d call out the artists and song titles as soon as a song came on, and then he’d start telling me about who the drummer was or the clarinet or trumpet or bass player. I couldn’t keep straight who any of them were, but the names became familiar, Cozy Cole, Fats Waller, Sara Vaughn, Pee Wee Russell, Coleman Hawkins, Ella Fitzgerald, Bix Beiderbecke , Billie Holiday …

Later on, in my mid-twenties, when I was a little more open to learning about some of the things that were important to Dad, he would occasionally buy me jazz recordings whose greatness he wanted me know. We’d be out somewhere, and I’d lobby to stop in at a record store. I’d head off to the rock titles and he’d browse the jazz. And then he’d be at my elbow, holding Miles’ “Sketches of Spain.” Did I know about this one? Would I like to have it? Um, sure Dad . . . Or the Billie Holiday Commodore Master Takes or The Benny Goodman Sextet, featuring Charlie Christian or Lionel Hampton’s small group recordings.

Or Satch Plays Fats.

Now to my dad, just the fact that Satchmo Armstrong made an album interpreting his favorite titles by one of the other great jazz virtuosos from his generation, Fats Waller, was enough for this to be a momentous event in my musical education. Even then, the clear highlight of this, to me, uneven record was Louis’ performance of “(What Did I Do To Be So) Black and Blue.”

Not much more to say about it than Ellison did. Sloe gin over vanilla ice cream. Sloe gin, that liqueur made from blackthorn plums—a densely spiny shrub with succulent fruit far too bitter for human consumption, except as flavoring. The 1955 recording is emotional and elegant, a glistening timeless object with vapor ever rising off its surfaces.

I’ve since learned to like even better Armstrong’s 1929 recording of “Black and Blue,” which must be the one Ellison was writing about in Invisible Man, since the novel was published in 1952, before Satch Plays Fats.

Louis Armstrong and his Hot Five

With its tinkly piano and a band nowhere near the caliber of Armstrong’s later All-Stars, the earlier version of the song sounds dated, the performance slightly mechanical and melodramatic, the swing less pronounced. But against that unremarkable backdrop, comes Louis’ voice—his breath pushing through the words while he bites off the ends of phrases.

Louis stylizes this sound in the 1930s, his voice giving melodrama and camp a brooding edge and energy uncontainable.

(This post has been adapted from a longer post about my father and his musical heroes, written on my earlier blog, Hungry Blues.)

I received a statement and fact sheet from US Representative John Lewis announcing the introduction on Tuesday of the Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crimes Reauthorization Act.

Congress passed the original Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act legislation in 2007 to bring about a “sustained, well-coordinated, and well-funded effort to investigate and prosecute racially motivated murders that occurred on or before December 31, 1969.” In 2008 the Department of Justice reopened 113 race-related murder investigations of civil rights workers and ordinary people. By the Justice Department’s most recent report to Congress (PDF), all but 8 cases have now been closed–without a single prosecution. Since the legislation was signed into law in 2008, victims’ family members have questioned the Justice Department’s seriousness about identifying cases, resolving them and providing adequate information to victims’ families about what happened to their loved ones.

Now acknowledging that there were “gaps” in the Till Act, a bipartisan, bicameral coalition has introduced the Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crimes Reauthorization Act of 2016.

This bill reauthorizes and updates the original legislation that was signed into law in 2008. It seeks to respond to the concerns of victims’ family members and strengthen collaboration between the Justice Department, the FBI, State and local law enforcement, and advocates to pursue these cold cases.

The House (H.R.5067) bill is led by Rep. John Lewis (D-GA), Rep. Jim Sensenbrenner (R-WI) and Rep. John Conyers (D-MI). The Senate (S.2854) companion is introduced by Sen. Richard Burr (R-NC), Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-VT), Sen. Claire McCaskill, (D-MO), and Sen. Roy Blunt (R-MO).

“We have an obligation, a mission, and a mandate to continue the effort required to wash away these stains on our democracy,” said Representative Lewis. “I am glad to say this bill incorporates the advice and counsel of numerous individuals and groups who are also dedicated to the pursuit of justice in these matters. Their tireless efforts have helped us improve this legislation so that more work can be done to end the pain, doubt and the inconsistent application of justice that has languished unattended for decades.”

According to Lewis’ statement, the new legislation:

• Provides clearer direction and improved coordination between federal, state, and local law enforcement and the activists, advocates, and academics working on these issues;
• Establishes a public-private joint taskforce to coordinate the investigations;
• Strengthens the Department of Justice’s reporting requirements;
• Eliminates the pre-1969 time limitation on investigations;
• Eliminates the sunset provision in the original bill;
• Requires the Department of Justice to review specific closed cases that warrant further investigation;
• Maintains the previous funding levels;
• Establishes the process to reopen, review, and update the public on the cases previously closed and explain the outcome of cases referred to the Department of the Justice; and
• Clarifies the law’s intent.

Over the last eight years, reporters and advocates have identified problems of coordination among officials, poor reporting of investigative results and a lack of clarity regarding the the intent of the Till Act.

In 2011, for example, an FBI agent pressed me to violate journalistic ethics and expose my sources and turnover my unpublished notes.

“I do not want to close this case,” [Special Agent Bradley] Hentschel said during a telephone interview in 2011, “but if I can’t develop any further leads…it’s going to be a hard sell to the DOJ, to even my supervisor, that I need to be running around two, two and a half hours away from the office with the gas budget the way that it is and everything else, beating down leads on this case or on any other case where we don’t have any active information coming in.”

Stanley Nelson, editor of the Concordia Sentinel in Ferriday, Louisiana, found that the FBI ignored sources who came forward.

“I had individuals tell me that they contacted the FBI to tell what they knew about these cold cases, but that the bureau showed little or no interest in what they had to offer,” Nelson said. “In some cases, the caller was asked if he or she could provide ‘probative’ information — did they have evidence as to who killed who? That’s a ridiculous approach. You have to look for ‘pieces’ of the story rather than the one caller or witness who has all the answers.”

Nelson came to realize that the FBI agents could only do as much as their superiors in the Justice Department directed them to do. “Had a handful of agents working in the field been given the time and tools to do nothing but work on these cases, then they would have accomplished much more,” he said.

In 2012, the Syracuse University Cold Case Justice Initiative provided the Justice Department with names of 196 victims of racially suspicious cases warranting further investigation. None of the additional names have been added to the Department’s list of cases under review.

Lewis says the reauthorization “seeks to respond to the concerns of advocates regarding the implementation of the original legislation.” I hope it will be passed quickly and with the full force of its current intent.

There is still time to do better–but not much.

by Paul A. Greenberg

Lola Hart lived in the Longwood section of town. Like her own prim appearance the apartment was neat and proper but spoke of no particular taste. She had found her way into the Boston jazz culture through her relationship with John Garrity. She adored him and he neither encouraged nor discouraged her. John was rich and radical and despised his family’s considerable real estate power. He did like to use the family money on those infrequent occasions when he could get his hands on it. I could accurately predict the current state of their relationship by the way Lola dressed. If John was around she wore dresses. When he was chasing some new romance she reverted to prim library skirts.

Lola was our crowd’s arbiter of disputes over words and facts. Her head seemed to be as full of information as the library was of books. In both cases there was no connection between any two items. They were just there on call. Once when Hennie and I were having a dispute over the meaning of the word “habitat” we called Lola at the library desk and asked her to use the word in a sentence. She replied, “there is nothing so natural as a habitat.”

I was Lola’s jazz instructor. She would invite me over for dinner usually when she wasn’t seeing John. I would bring records and attempt to explain the music. Mainly I just rhapsodized about my favorites. Between records and my word solos she would pour out her frustrations with John. We were on independent tracks. She would tell about her inability to tell John her feelings and I would tell that I dreamed I was Billie Holiday’s “Fine And Mellow” man.

Our tracks crossed only twice.

Early in her entry into our crowd, I was playing Jack Teagarden’s “Texas Tea Party” for her.

She asked the significance of “Tea Party.” I started to intellectualize the “significance” of marijuana in jazz culture and she started to giggle. When I tried to ask her what was funny, she fell into fits of laughter. And then we both laughed and laughed until we were gasping for breath.

Lola told of a party at John’s apartment. She was feeling hostess-like and had served beers and was making sandwiches when John asked her if she had seen the tea. She proceeded to look in every possible cabinet and drawer in the kitchen finding no pekoe nor other varieties of steeping beverage. Meanwhile John was getting more frantic and was looking under the living room couch pillows. By the time he looked in the globe of a lamp she castigated him for not keeping food in the kitchen where it belonged. She only now understood he was seeking a stash of pot.

A year later I was playing Billie Holiday for her. Her taste was more sophisticated and her pain over her relationship with John was showing in her eyes. They had recently gone to New Orleans for a week together. The by now usual pattern unfolded. The week had been bliss. They were close and everything took on the aura that lovers manufacture. She had not heard from him since they returned. I didn’t know how to help her so I played a record.

My choice was Billie Holiday’s “Fine And Mellow,” intended to be soothing. As Billie sang lack of concern over her man’s treatment of her because he physically loved her, Lola started to sob.

“Love is just like a faucet, it turns off and on,” Billie sang. “Love is like a faucet, it turns off and on/ Sometimes when you think its on, baby, it has turned off and gone.”

Lola’s sobs were now paroxysms. I was paralyzed. Then I put my arm around her and comforted her. I sat quietly holding her for over an hour.

Then the phone rang. Lola asked me to answer. It was John and he wanted to come over. She said I should arrange for us to meet at the Savoy Café.

Afterwards, we stayed up to five in the morning listening to Frankie Newton. Lola was as outgoing as I had ever seen her and John was as quiet as I had ever seen him.

Two weeks later they married.

On Thursday, the United Nations human rights council heard evidence concerning the US failure to investigate and punish racial murders from the 1940s, 50s and 60s. Al Jazeera America news anchor John Seigenthaler discussed the development with me on his Friday evening show.

According to The Guardian lawyers and human rights experts for the Syracuse University Cold Case Justice Initiative brought evidence that

the wave of racial violence that swept through the deep south in the 1940s, 50s and 60s has never been accounted for, despite a congressional law passed seven years ago that instructed the FBI to look again at the issue….

They will tell the UN – as part of the world body’s review of the human rights record of the US that reaches a climax in May – that they have compiled a list of more than 300 suspicious killings that the FBI have not even recognized, let alone cleared up. By that calculation there have been hundreds, possibly thousands, of individual murderers who have killed in the name of white supremacy and enjoyed total impunity.

A small but unknown number of them are still alive and at large.

“The United States has never come to terms with accountability for the devastating loss of life during a time of domestic terrorism that continued in many forms after the legal end to slavery,” the Syracuse team, led by professors Paula Johnson and Janis McDonald of the Cold Case Justice Initiative, will tell the UN.

The Guardian discussed the Justice Department failures with my Civil Rights Cold Case Project colleague Stanley Nelson:

Stanley Nelson, a reporter with the Concordia Sentinel in Louisiana, has spent more than seven years investigating racial violence in Concordia parish and across the state lines in Natchez, Mississippi. This area of the deep south was the epicenter of the violent white backlash in the civil rights era and was the home of the Silver Dollar Group, a vicious offshoot of the Ku Klux Klan.

Nelson said he had been “personally frustrated by the way in which the DoJ and the FBI have handled the new look into these cold crimes”. Instead of setting up specialist teams of detectives and prosecutors that could focus their energies exclusively on trying to clear up unsolved murders, they left the investigations to regional FBI offices already busy with current criminal cases. As a result the attention given was patchy at best.

Nelson said it was a battle against the clock, as witnesses and suspects were steadily dying. “When I wrote about my first cold case in 2007 I started to keep an obituary file of individuals who had died – now it’s an inch thick,” he said.

To the Editor:

The report on lynching is a deeply needed review of the legacy of racial terror in American life. But the truth and reconciliation called for in the Equal Justice Initiative report is also needed for the scores of racially motivated extrajudicial killings and other acts of racial terror during the civil rights period of the 1950s and 1960s. People directly affected by these more recent acts are still living today — largely without recognition and without closure.

A groundbreaking bill sponsored by Representative John Lewis, a civil rights hero, and signed into law in 2008 reopened 113 race-related murder investigations of civil rights workers and ordinary people.

To date, more than 100 of the cases have been closed by the Justice Department without prosecutions — closed quietly, without public notice. Journalists and legal advocates have questioned the Justice Department’s seriousness about identifying cases, resolving them and providing adequate information to victims’ families about what happened to their loved ones.

The United States must grapple not only with the findings reported in The Times but also with a longer legacy of violence.

BEN GREENBERG

Lyndon Johnson was president—the executive branch of the federal government. It was his job to enforce the law. He should not have waited until Jimmie Lee Jackson’s, James Reeb’s and Viola Liuzzo’s lives were taken. He should not have waited until people were beaten and bloodied on Pettus Bridge before he enforced Negroes’ right to vote in the South. I appreciate LBJ’s enacting and signing the Voting Rights Act, but I wish he had been a self-starter when it came to our right to vote, so it would not have been necessary to go to the lengths that we did—organizing a mass movement and risking our safety–in order to get the vote.

It was the courage, work, thoughtfulness, sacrifice, discipline and determination of citizens of the United States that obtained our right to vote.

Historically, inventions, musical innovations and many more accomplishments and contributions developed by descendants of enslaved Africans in America have been misappropriated. We learn about presidents, battles and dates. The impression too often perpetuated in history books and in popular culture is that that you have to be a president, someone special or White to have an important idea or to achieve major accomplishments. This is an idea that disempowers citizens and should not be propagated further.

—Diane Nash

A picketer in front of a Gadsden, Alabama, drugstore turns to answer a heckler during a demonstration, on June 10, 1963. (AP Photo)

Taylor was worried about what the school’s “multicultural” students might hear in Gadsden.

Taylor cites the website “Kids In Mind” when explaining his decision. The site advises that the movie “Selma” has “about 2 F-words (and) 26 derogatory term (sic) for African-Americans.”

“I understand the movie has a lot of historical value,” Taylor told AL.com Thursday morning. "The request was denied based on language. (The website) told me there were about two F-words in that movie, which I presume may mean more. The school that wanted to go (Collinsville High) is a multicultural school and (the website) said there were going to be 26 African-American connotations, which I thought would probably be inappropriate.

“I deemed this movie in particular inappropriate and that’s my job as the head of the school system to make those decisions,” he said.

The National Coalition Against Censorship questions Taylor’s objection to Selma’s language and raises concerns about keeping high school students from seeing the film.

Throughout history, citing a piece’s “dirty words” has been a cornerstone of censorship. Words may offend our delicate sensibilities, particularly when those words are decontextualized from the artistic work at hand. Profanity has increasingly, however, become a convenient veil for masking more damning, openly discriminatory ideas of what should be censored.…

Whatever the reason for Taylor’s decision, the result is especially disheartening when considering the film’s critical adulation. Some have gone as far to say that Selma should be regularly shown in US public schools for its incisive and humanistic rendering of one of our country’s most vital historical moments.… Selma is … a film that’s been shepherding in a more informed, urgent conversation about civic protest movements, our country’s contested history of race relations, and who gets to tell historical narratives.

Others share the NCAC’s concerns about censorship and question whether Hugh Taylor is truly worried about the language the Collinsville High students might hear in Gadsden or if his objection is to the film’s depictions of Alabama’s racist past. Mother Jones notes, for example, that “Alabama is one of three states in the country that simultaneously observes Robert E. Lee Day alongside Martin Luther King Day.” The blogger “Field Negro” wonders whether Taylor’s problem is that he “had some relatives who are on the wrong side of history when it comes to what went down in Selma.”

Two years before the events portrayed in Selma, Gadsden was a flashpoint of civil rights activism and brutal racist reprisals no less horrific than the police brutality of Bloody Sunday in Selma. 

Demonstrators gather on a sidewalk under the taunts of whites on June 15, 1963. (Photo by Anthony Falletta)

Eric Rainey worked for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee in Gadsden in 1963. He reported:

Demonstrations began in Gadsden on June 10, 1963. There were five hundred people in the streets downtown demonstrating for their freedom. We demonstrated for two weeks and only two persons were arrested: Nandy McNair and myself. We were arrested following a protest at the county court house but were released the next morning. When we were jailed, one of the officers stepped on my face and kicked me about seven or eight times.

After two weeks of demonstrations we learned that the sheriff had sent for the state troopers. On the day the troopers were supposed to have arrived we went downtown and closed the lunch counters again and picketed in front of the theaters. About fifty people were arrested. We walked to the court house to protest the arrests and sat down in the middle of the street. At that time three hundred people were arrested and by the time the state troopers arrived that evening there were six hundred people on the court house lawn praying for the release of their people from the jail.

Women had babies in their arms and there were many young children sitting on the lawn. The state troopers sneaked up on the people and began beating them as they prayed. There was a lady standing with her baby in her arms on the court house steps and the troopers knocked her down and pushed the baby from her hands. Some were knocked down two and three times. There were so many people arrested that the jails were filled. The men were sent to Camp Gadsden, others were sent to the city and county jails. We stayed in jail for fourteen days and were released on bond. When our trial came up the judge postponed the trial indefinitely.

On July 11 about twenty-eight of us demonstrated again and were arrested for “vagrancy.” We stayed in jail six days and were released. After being released from jail this time, we set our sights for another demonstration on August 3, 1963 which we called D-Day. We began going into the communities talking to everyone about getting out on this date. The police followed us everywhere we went. We always carried our tooth brushes with us to be prepared in case we were arrested. On D-Day there were close to 2,300 people ready to demonstrate. We went downtown and picketed again.

That evening we had another mass demonstration. About 1,200 people were arrested and in order to make room in the jails, some youths were released as juveniles. There were about six hundred and fifty people still in jail after some were released. This was the largest mass jailing of any civil rights demonstration up to that time, north or south. The beatings by troopers and police continue. There is need for federal intervention by the President and Attorney General.

My father’s friend William Douthard was also in Gadsden in 1963, as a Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) field secretary, organizing the protests.

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.

The same Col. Al Lingo of the Alabama Highway Patrol who at the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma ordered state troopers to advance on horseback, gassing and marauding unarmed civil rights marchers, was there in Gadsden as his state troopers cattle prodded protestors. 

Douthard (known to many as “Meatball”) recounted his arrest, along with another CORE field secretary, Marvin Robinson, following protests on June 19, 1963.

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.

The two historical photos in this post were the only ones of the 1963 Gadsden protests that I found published online. The pivotal 1965 Selma to Montgomery March is the stuff of mainstream Hollywood film because the historical moment’s images, footage and key events are already so indelibly part of popular culture and the canonical stories of the civil rights movement. There is much more, however, that will never filter into popular films and can only be known and understood by tending to living witnesses and participants—many of whom have already died. 

With hundreds of local Gadsden residents having taken part in the 1963 protests, surely some of the protestors are still around today and could provide Collinsville High students a more palpable and meaningful connection to the civil rights movement and the nature of state sponsored violent reprisals against it than can any film. The real tragedy in this story is not Hugh Taylor’s wrongheaded censorship of a notable two hour historical drama but the abundance of missed opportunities by American communities—Southern and Northern, alike—to face the violence perpetrated to uphold white supremacy and understand the history of struggle against it.

Correction

I originally wrote that Eric Rainey was field secretary for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee in Gadsden. According to SNCC veteran and oral historian Sheila Michaels, Mary Hamilton was the SNCC field secretary in Gadsden. In our discussion on Facebook, Sheila added: 

Mary was jailed for Gadsden. William [Douthard] was her protégé (remember, he was only 18 years old when he came to NY). CORE (& SNCC) worried a lot about “contributing to the delinquency of minors” which had very serious consequences for both the adult & minor. No one wanted to go to reform schools, because they didn’t have to let you out until you reached your majority. Mary had a few people who were underage under her protection. We barred a lot of kids from the office in Hattiesburg.

In this letter, we return to Sasebo, Japan in September of 1951, where my father was recovering from a massive case of dysentery. He is about to be sent back to Korea, possibly again to the front lines, and he shares his fears with my mother. My parents married secretly in the fall of 1950, after my father finished basic training in the States and before he went overseas to Korea. On February 10, 1951, they had a public wedding, while my father was home on a leave. My parents did not live together as a married couple until his honorable discharge from military service in June of 1952. 

September 28, 1951
Sasebo, Japan

Dearest Esther,

This is one of those difficult times. I am going back to Korea. After all the assurances from the doctor that I wouldn’t go back I am on the way. I am not positive I will go back to the front lines or not. That remains to be seen. However it is more than likely I will go there.

Honey I am really scared this time. I do not believe in premonitions or anything of that sort but I have an overall feeling of gloom.

If I were going off to fight for something I really believed in something worth fighting for I might be scared for I believe the man who is not afraid of death is foolish but this way — there is so much left behind, so much to do and to say.

I hate to be depressing honey but I have to let it out. If anything should happen and I do not come back you must know how much you have meant to me. There is no sense in wishing that things had been different. You you may change the course of the future but the past remains unalterably intact as it happened. I can’t think in terms of not having met you or not falling in love with you. If I met you again under the same set of circumstances I have no doubt the result would have been the same unless of course you were a little bit more discerning and decided I wasn’t wroth the trouble.

I have no doubts now that if I were to come home we would find it all well worth the trouble — that in a few years all the heartaches would seem insignificant. Part of my depression now is that if I do not come home I never will have the chance to prove that. I am not trying to write a premature last will and testament. No lines of what I would like you to do. I think you know that. I want you to be happy and until now you have had very little happiness because of me. To the contrary you have had a good deal of unhappiness. I can’t say, “if anything happens don’t feel badly, don’t mourn ect [sic]” I would be very hurt if I thought you wouldn’t. I haven’t the mental energy right now to detail it but we both know what we believe and more or less what we want and I want you to have it regardless. I think this is the the crux of what I have to say about the future.

On a less pessimistic note, if and when I do come home I will be a much better person a much stronger person than when I left. It may take a while for me to settle my nerves but this is normal. After all at best all is nerve wracking and abnormal here. This last too is testament to what you mean to me honey. Gloom and all I can’t think of a future with out you and there is a strong drive to preserve myself for that future. Believe me honey that is a tremendous thing. I have seen men die for the lack of the same. I might have myself if it was not with me all the time.

This is all beginning to sound like a last letter. Maybe I am too tired now. I did spend 20 hours on the train getting here. I will write again tomorrow. I love you always

Paul

My father had already seen months of combat in Korea by this March train ride through the Japanese countryside. Within a matter of days, as his letters reflect, he would be back to combat in Korea. I have not yet found a letter that gives context to this stint in Japan, to where he’d return in September, to recuperate from dysentery. 

In later years, my father recalled having a “profound religious experience” in Hiroshima during one of his stints in Japan during the Korean War:

In the Hiroshima Museum there is a wall, all that is left of a building destroyed by the bomb. On that wall is etched the shadow of human beings which is all that is left of them. It was there that I came to understand that the distinction between just and unjust wars was blurred and that human existence was at great risk and that only a spiritual revolution would be sufficient if humanity was going to survive.

Whether the recollection occurred on this or another wartime trip to Japan, it is chilling to imagine this train ride through Hiroshima in 1951.

March 20, 1951

Dearest Esther,

The popular song said “Those far away places with romantic sounding names.” Right now I am in one of the most infamous places in the whole world Hiroshima. As I sit in my compartment on the train I can see on the station in which we are parked a sign Hiroshima Station. Actually there isn’t much station left. Actually there is very little of anything left. Some shacks, a few buildings that the reconstruction group have rebuilt and the frames of new buildings going up. The people here do not smile and wave at us. There is an awe bringing sobriety.

As I travel along the Japanese countryside I see many schools. The people seem most industrious. Everyone seems busy all the time.

The list of subversive organizations here is tremendous. Everything from a communist party to the Green Dragons which is a super nationalist organization.

Letter from Paul Greenberg to Esther Greenberg, March 20, 1951 (excerpt)

You will have to pardon the writing. Japanese trains are old and rock worse than a ship in a storm.

I am studying the Korean language. A few of us with high IQs were given books on how to learn the basic phraseology of the Korean language. Unfortunately there are very few personal phrases included in the course. It is all so called useful things like directions, orders ect [sic]. I am struck by how similar the phonetics are to Hebrew. The language sounds very much like what the individual words indicate. For instance muyylegut [meoggi, 먹기] means “food” or eating. There are two number systems. One is the Chinese system and then a fairly recently devised Korean system. Both are in use.

I have to get my things together and get ready to change trains so I will finish here. Maybe the next letter will be smoother. I love you

Paul

This letter is quite a glimpse into the complexities of my father’s wartime experience. It is reassuring and moving to witness his horror at the eviction of a Korean family from their home so that it can be turned over to his troop as a place to stay. I like how he uses his discomfiting access to the evicted family’s home to try to restore some measure of their humanity and to see the cultural richness and poltical nuance in their lives. And yet he cannot entirely escape his own position as a western, military invader. Why did he think it okay to tear off the piece of a picture from the wal of the evicted family’s home? Why is it okay for him to send it home to my mother? Sixty-three years later, I have found this nameless Korean family’s peace dove, still folded into the pages of the letter. It is a remarkable artifiact. I should not possess it.

About 5 miles southeast of Seoul
April 2, 1951

Dearest Esther,

We finally got clear roads and came through to here. We are living in a house that the Korean dwellers were evicted [from]. It is sort of horrible. We pull up in a truck. The sergeant says wait a minute, takes a South Korean soldier and after a few minutes we march in while some poor Korean Family is moving its valuables into a neighbor’s house. This family is more interesting than the sergeant realizes. Note the picture I tore off a picture that was glued on the wall.

The house is poor one of the sort you see all over the country side. A fence surrounds a small area of land. Within the fence are several rooms and a platform. The middle is bare earth and bare sky. Along the ceiling is an ingenious method for storage space. Sliding panels open and serve as drawers and closets. One room has a fire hearth with three holes each big enough to hold a different size crockery bowel for cooking. On each side of the 4 sides is an exit. These people have a box of Chinese phonograph records. They look terribly interesting. I wish there was a vic here and also I wish I could read Chinese. Seoul is really a rubble. Very few buildings are standing. Those that are standing are smashed up inside. The city is overrun with Americans, British, Turkish, and South Korean soldiers. It seems the civilians there are all there for the purpose of selling to soldiers: silks, liquor, prostitutes, candy, labor and assorted souvenirs.

One more thing I need honey. I hate to be a pest but I need a metal soap dish and a metal toothbrush case (a toothbrush enclosed). The plastic ones break too easily. I feel terrible when I complain about my physical condition. All these men have been wounded or have things like dysentery or yellow jaundis [sic]. However complain I will until I get out of the Infantry.

I haven’t seen the newspaper in a few days but optimism runs high here. People are betting that this mess will be over in 2 to 3 weeks. I sure hope so. There is a good chance that I will get some of my mail here. That would be the best thing that happened in a long time.

I saw a weather report that said it was still quite cold in New York. By now spring must be there. I bet the park looks beautiful: green and even some flowers showing through. I am afraid that I won’t go much for walking when I get home, not for a while anyway but the idea of a walk in the park with you pleases me.

I have early guard duty tonight (I get some sleep at least) so I have to close now

Good night prettyface until tomorrow

Paul

Artwork by @MollyCrabapple

The Daily Show’s Jessica Williams investigates Detroit’s aggressive water shutoffs, which targets many of the city’s poorest residents while leaving large commercial properties unscathed.

After close to a year of combat in Korea in September 1951, my father contracted dysentery and was sent for treatment at a military hospital in Sasebo, Japan. He wrote this letter to my mother from the hospital in Sasebo. 

23 Sept. 1951
Sasebo, Japan

Dearest Esther,

Two more ships left the harbor this morning. Two more ships. 3,000 men. I wonder how they will fare? My guess is 1000 will never come back. That is not so they will know what it is to live and love. Of the rest how many will be deformed, how many will be sick as I am? Who will walk! Who will lose an arm or a leg?!

To many people at home peace means many things. Economic security, keeping their loved ones ever near or maybe just an ideal a good ideal. But how many know what it means to the 3,000 on these ships? How many know what it means to the close to 200,000 combat soldiers here (not including the Chinese and North + South Koreans)? How many have seen a man laugh when his best friend was killed. Not laughter of delight but laughter of relief—gladness that it wasn’t he who was killed. Who knows what it is to stay awake hoping that you will live through just one more night. If you live tonight maybe you will live tomorrow night.

Peace can stop the noise of the big guns forever trying to find you with their missiles of death and deformity. Peace can stop the endless marches which always end with bullets. Peace can stop those bullets from searching for your tired aching body. Peace can bring you home to your wife, mother, girlfriend.

I wonder how many of those at home who press for armed conflict have experienced all this. Have those veterans of previous wars forgotten so soon the horror they suffered? It is hard to believe anyone could ever forget.

I have been seeing advertisements in the magazines — they ask you to buy defense bonds for the memory of a brave dead young man who was killed in Korea. Why — they do not say so but it is to put another young man in his place. I read about how our men must be armed. Are we just entities that should be armed, lead an abnormal existence until our lives are cut short by death or wound? Don’t we have the right to live to love to carry on a normal existence?

In the past I have always claimed that in order to convince people to act on a situation you must show them how it will affect them if they do and how if they don’t act. But surely people must grasp that bigger than any ideology and economic gain, religious or political belief is the saving of the lives of our young.

I have purposely avoided what this means in terms of the Chinese or Korean people. I feel certain it is the same.

What has 15 months of war accomplished? Scores of thousands of young men killed. Many more than can be counted are wounded. Millions of people are homeless. Infants starve, cry for lost or dead parents. Cities are ruined. I wonder how much worse it could have been for South Korea under North Korean rule or vice versa. I doubt if the difference in an ordinary person’s life would have changed one bit noticeably. But those 3,000 who leave tomorrow. Those 3,000 who have left almost daily for a year now what of them? Almost all of us have our answer. Peace! Peace and the right to make our own destiny at home.

I guess I got in an speechifying mood. I get this way whenever I hear a news broadcast or read time or newsweek magazines.

The weather is beautiful. An early fall day. Bright and with just a touch of a chill in the air. Everything is bright and green and comfortable. Just the kind of day to do lots of exciting things and come home with flushed cheeks and happy smiles and feel refreshed rather than worn out.

We could go to the Museum and Central Park maybe even row in the lake. Eat in a fancy restaurant and go to a show or movie and then to our home. Oh how I long for a day like that. To me right now it seems like the ecstasy of ecstasies.

They are bringing me my lunch now and for the first time in days I feel hungry so good afternoon prettyface. I love you—

Paul

The nation’s largest organization of psychologists will conduct an independent review into whether it colluded with or supported the government’s use of torture in the interrogation of prisoners during the Bush administration.  

The American Psychological Association said in a statement released late Wednesday that its board had named David H. Hoffman, a Chicago lawyer, to conduct the review.

For years, questions about the role of American psychologists and behavioral scientists in the development and implementation of the Bush-era interrogation program have been raised by human rights advocates as well as by critics within the psychological profession itself. Psychologists were involved in developing the enhanced interrogation techniques used on terrorism suspects by the Central Intelligence Agency. Later, a number of psychologists, in the military and in the intelligence community, were involved in carrying out and monitoring interrogations. 

In an interview, Mr. Hoffman, a former federal prosecutor and onetime inspector general of the city of Chicago, emphasized the independence of his investigation. “We will go wherever the evidence leads,” he said.

In 2006, I began my first online communications job at an organiztion called Physicians for Human Rights. PHR had recently published its groundbreaking report, Break Them Down: Systematic Use of Psychological Torture by US Forces, which was the first explanation of how psychological torture became part of the so called US war on terror. Though we would come to learn much more about the insidious and corrupt invovlement of psychologists in the US torture regime, it was already clear to PHR’s Campaign Against Torture team that US torture could not go on as it had if health professionals would abide by their professional ethics and abstain from participation in interrogations. In the spring of 2006, the American Medical Association and ˙American Psychiatric Association both adopted official policies against member participation in interrogations—but the American Psychological Association did not follow suit. Risen notes that

critics have cited the association’s 2002 decision to modify its ethics rules that in effect gave greater professional cover to psychologists who had been helping to monitor and oversee interrogations. 

The most important change was a new guideline that made it clear that if a psychologist faced a conflict between the A.P.A.’s ethics code and a lawful order, the psychologist could follow the law. Critics say this introduced the Nuremberg defense into American psychology — following orders was an acceptable reason to violate professional ethics. 

“It’s sad that the A.P.A., rather than protecting its members from engaging in interrogation activities, bent its rules to allow their participation in those interrogations,” [Stephen] Soldz said. 

Over the next four years PHR released a series of follow-up reports looking at the health consequences and legality of enhanced interrogation techniques; medical evidence confirming the first-hand accounts of alleged victims of torture by US personnel in Iraq, Afghanistan and Guantanamo Bay; specifics of unethical health professional involvement in establishing a legal rational for torture; and profoundly distrubing evidence that CIA medical personel performed illegal experimentation on prisoners in the agency’s attempte to justify the war crime of torture.

I left PHR in 2010 but remain immensely proud to have part of these efforts and to have met an inspiring cadre of health professionals who have advocated tirelessly to restore meaning to their fundamental ethical precept of first, do no harm.

Despite the mounting evidence from PHR and other revelations, reported by journalists, the APA was unable to disentangle itself from the US torture regime. Risen’s exposé in his new book, Pay Any Price: Greed, Power and Endless War, of some of the corruption that kept psychologists involved in torture, has triggered the long overdue investigaiton finally initiated by the APA. In Pay Any Price, Risen wrote about

the email archive of Scott Gerwehr, a behavioral researcher with ties to the C.I.A. and other agencies who died in 2008, to provide a glimpse at the network of psychologists, academic researchers, contractors and intelligence and Pentagon officials who formed the behavioral science infrastructure that grew up after the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks to support the Bush administration’s war on terror. 

Most notable, the emails reveal that after the Abu Ghraib scandal broke in 2004, the association was eager to get out in front of the controversy by developing new professional guidelines for psychologists involved in interrogations. The group created a committee to study the matter, and in 2005 issued a report that, in effect, enabled psychologists involved in the Bush interrogation program to continue. A number of psychologists and human rights advocates have been critical of the work of that committee, known as the PENS Task Force, ever since.

As the US continues to struggle with accountability for torture, the APA’s independent review is a major step forward towards a full assessment of how the US torture program became possible and towards ensuring that these human rights abuses cannot be repeated.

The current F.B.I. director, James Comey, keeps a copy of the King wiretap request on his desk as a reminder of the bureau’s capacity to do wrong. But elsewhere in Washington, the debate over how much the government should know about our private lives has never been more heated: Should intelligence agencies be able to sweep our email, read our texts, track our phone calls, locate us by GPS? Much of the conversation swirls around the possibility that agencies like the N.S.A. or the F.B.I. will use such information not to serve national security but to carry out personal and political vendettas. King’s experience reminds us that these are far from idle fears, conjured in the fevered minds of civil libertarians. They are based in the hard facts of history.

—What an Uncensored Letter to M.L.K. Reveals - NYTimes.com