History can take many different forms. There are the
histories that, relying on existing primary and secondary sources, present in
hopefully coherent fashion an account of past events that we already know about.
The numerous biographies of Abraham Lincoln or histories of the Civil War or
histories of battles in the Civil War or biographies of generals fall into this
category. We all know what the Civil War was and when it took place, or at
least we should. We ought to know why it happened. But I think the great
majority of people haven't really read a history of the Civil War that explains
in much detail what it involved, the military campaigns, the primary figures.
I've got sitting on my bookshelf like some kind of beast on my back the seven
volume history of the Civil War by the historian Allan Nevins. I've always vowed
that when I retired I would undertake this massive work. I said the same thing
about Proust.
A different kind of history recovers the details of events
that for whatever reason have been shrouded in mystery or simply misunderstood
or forgotten. One such event is the history of Forsyth County in North Georgia.
Specifically, Forsyth County as a region where for many decades no black people
have lived, primarily because long ago following a crime against a white person
which a black person might or might not have committed all the black people in
the county were driven out. I heard this story in my childhood. I never knew
the facts: it was just a hazy myth about a past that I didn't think about much.
Patrick Phillips, a historian at Drew University who spent part of his childhood
and adolescence in Forsyth County, has undertaken to recover the details of its
history, to correct the myths and uncover events that have a real bearing on
the current state of race relations in the United States. His book is
In 1912 an 18-year-old white girl named Mae Crow was walking
home late one night when she was attacked, severely beaten, and apparently
raped. She died two weeks later. Townspeople immediately concluded that her
attacker was a black man. Their logic: it had to be a black man. Only black men
attack white women. After a limited investigation the local sheriff and others
determined that two black boys, aged 16 and 18, had committed the crime, with
the assistance of several relatives. They were arrested. The two boys were put
on trial, found guilty, and a month later hanged in the backyard of a resident
who lived in the middle of town--in an event attended by, according to Phillips,
several thousand people. His account of the hanging is particularly gruesome
not only because it involves the deaths of two teenage boys but also because of
the fact that thousands of townspeople supposedly attended like it was a kind
of picnic and public circus.
After the executions, nightriders (local white residents) used
the threat of violence and mayhem to drive every African American from the
county. Homes, barns, and other property
owned by black residents who had lived in the county all their lives were
burned. One African American farmer lost a 200-acre plot of land, which local
white residents eagerly bought at low prices.
None of the black residents of the county was able to recover possessions
or land they lost as a result. No fair compensation
was provided.
The details of the rape and murder are not known. Law
enforcement in 1912 in Forsyth County didn't keep records. We can only guess
why the sheriff and others believed that these two boys committed the crimes. Whether
they were guilty or not, they were railroaded. There were close connections
between the defense attorneys and the prosecuting attorneys. There was some
possibility of collusion between these two groups. A cousin of the two accused
boys was arrested as an accomplice for the crimes. She was convinced by the sheriff (apparently)
that the only way she could escape jail or worse was to testify against them,
so she did. In 1912 Forsyth County was an isolated place in the foothills of
the Georgia mountains. It was a difficult trip from Forsyth County to Atlanta
or back. Only 10% (1,098 citizens) of the population in Forsyth County at the time
was African-American. There were many reasons why the story that the sheriff
and other law enforcement officials told about the two accused boys didn't make
sense. What is clear is that they were convenient perpetrators. Their arrest
and conviction allowed the politically ambitious sheriff to show to the
townspeople of Cummings in Forsyth County that he was doing his job and
protecting white people, white women in particular, from the predations of
vicious black men.
To read this book is to be constantly horrified and
amazed. Phillips points out that
Cummings today has many memorials to Confederate generals and other prominent
whites who lived there. There's no trace of the black people who once lived in
the area or of the lynchings and of the public executions of young black
teenage boys that occurred in 1912.
Phillips has rescued from the past a story that most
citizens of Forsyth County and of Georgia in general would probably like to
remain forgotten. The year 1912 is more
than a century in the past. The people of Forsyth County today can't be held
responsible for events in which they had no part and played no role. However,
it's important that events like the ones recounted in this book are remembered
and not hidden in clouds of Chamber of Commerce optimism that focus on progress
and a glowing public image. Phillips
links the events of 1912 to a march in Forsyth County in 1987 that attracted
national attention and led to a confrontation between marchers and members of
the Ku Klux Klan.
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