By Wright Thompson (Penguin Press, 2024)
This book is more than an expose’ of the life and murder of Emmitt Till. And though it is filled with examples of the worst aspects of human nature, it goes beyond just how bad people do terrible things. It demonstrates how forces beyond our control define our destiny, along with how we relate to one another as these forces define our opportunities and constraints. This is not an easy review. The book is comprehensive in a way that (at least for me), defies simple characterization. Please bear with me as I try to provide an analogy.
I grew up in a Catholic household. My father believed that without fear of eternal punishment, there would be no morality. This helps explain why he was a “law and order” Nixon Republican (until Nixon, himself, broke the law). My mother was Irish Catholic and she was a true believer, in the St. Augustine/City of God sense. An expression I heard many times growing up was that some tragedy was “meant to be,” or was, more precisely, “God’s will.” I never found this easy to accept. But as I grew older, the “meant to be” part started to make more sense. What are we but the culmination of millions of years of evolution and shared history? In many ways, these background forces define and push us forward (or hold us back). Concurrently, our will to live combined with our aspirations and trepidations are relentlessly pulling us into the future. But then, while all this is going on, we are bombarded on all sides by present circumstances.
When you think of it in that way, our choices are largely boiled down to options framed by the context in which we find ourselves. Most times, it seems our available paths, though not predetermined, are largely framed by the forces that define our lives. To understand all that happens to us, and all that we are able to accomplish or fail to accomplish, requires an appreciation for all that came before us, and all that impacts our lives from known and unknown, often remote, sources. We respond as we are able, but most of what confronts us is beyond our control, and some of it beyond our comprehension. In other words, understanding and explaining our lives becomes a complicated, multi-faceted undertaking.
Well, this is precisely what Thompson does in his book, exploring the roots, the actual events, and the outcomes resulting in Emmett Smith’s lynching, from our treatment of the Choctaw, to rapid deforestation of the Delta region, to booms and busts of the cotton industry controlled by profit seeking actions emanating from Wall Street, New England, Manchester England, India, and other places. Through this book, we learn how White connection to the land enhanced racist hatred as control over the land and the benefits derived from that land receded, until disappearing entirely. But we also learned that racism was fine as long as it was capable of being buried. But once exposed, those who allowed the outside world to hold a mirror up to the immorality and hatred contained within, are held responsible and ostracized (after, of course, they are either acquitted or a Grand Jury refuses to indict).
We also learn about the heroic efforts of those who stayed to make a difference, as well as those who returned. The book also exposes us to the deep, abiding connections between the Mississippi Delta region and Chicago. The book is filled with stories about Medgar Evers, Fannie Lou Hamer, Rosa Parks, Fred Hampton, as well as (incredibly) Archie Manning, John McCain and others. Not to give too much away, but it was intriguing to learn the events that triggered Hamer into going from a house maid to a fierce civil rights advocate. Most everyone knows that the Rolling Stones started out covering blues. But who knew that Mick Jagger and Keith Richards met on a train platform and talked for the first time, drawn together because each held a new record by Muddy Waters? Who knew that Sam Cooke’s song about being “born by the river,” was the same Sunflower River that flowed through the county where Emmitt Till was tortured and killed? And who knew that Roosevelt did finally give farmers 40 acres and a mule through the Farm Security Administration, though that privilege was reserved for White farmers?
Back to the Choctaw, there was one section of the book that suggested to me why Andrew Jackson is so admired by Trump. Pushmataha was the chief of the Choctaw, who negotiated the nation’s removal from Mississippi with Andrew Jackson. Jackson told him about the wonderful possibilities of the area his people were to be relocated. Here is an excerpt:
“Pushmataha pointed out the error. Jackson, who insisted he knew everything but really did not work to learn, cursed and screamed at the chief, insisting he’d been called a liar. Pushmataha, as if dealing with a toddler, rephrased his complaint by saying, ‘The paper is untrue.’”
This kind of blind arrogance is part of our national culture. Towards the end of the book, Mamie Till left us a message that should resonate with all of us living through current attempts to promote, and realize a new era of fascism. “In a lynching, it is not just the killers who are guilty, it is the dominant culture.” Of course, such an indictment applies not just to lynching, but to any and all expressions of inhumanity, such as we are currently experiencing with mass deportations, family separation, ICE goon squads, racist dehumanization, piracy, murders on the open seas, sanctioned corruption and violence. Though most times hidden, and sometimes in retreat, this culture has always been a part of our dominant culture.
MLK Jr. once stated that the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends towards justice. One thing that becomes apparent when reading this book is that the universe is not moral. If anything, it is amoral. It is only through our individual and collective efforts that rights are established and protected. It is only though our own ethical development that we can accept and promote diversity and justice for all.
This book is a difficult, yet important, read. I highly endorse it.