No Right To Whites

No Right To Whites

Max Wifeschild


You don’t have the right to white people.
You don’t have the right to denigrate our history and traditions and then lay claim to what we’ve built.
You don’t have the right to ruin our children in your social experiments called public schools.
You don’t have the right to ruin our lives and livelihoods with your imported savages.
You don’t have the right to us.
We are going to determine our own future. We are going to determine our own lives.
Our lives are not improved with diversity. Our lives are not improved with multiculturalism. Our lives are not improved by those spreading these poisonous ideas. We are going to stop you.
We gave you our cities. We gave you our infrastructure. We gave you our neighborhoods. Now, you want our nations, children, and even our lives.
We are not giving you any more. Fuck you.
You don’t have a right to us. You can have your crappy culture. You can have your crappy communities. You can have your crappy way of life you made for yourselves. You can have your broken, backwards cultures that created your broken, backwards nations. But no, you can’t have us.
We are done with you and your enablers. We are not going to retreat any longer. Our numbers are growing each day with a righteous hatred of what has been done to us. We are going to fight and we are going to win

"Black Lives Matter" In One Graph

Via Intergalactic Source Of Truth

 

"Black Lives Matter" in one graph.

H/t: Maggie's Farm.

HawaiianBioDiversity - Keoni Galt

Another Intstant Classic by the Hawaiian Libertarian

HawaiianBioDiversity

My favorite Southron Paleface called me a pineapple a couple of posts ago that elicited a hearty Laugh Out Loud In teh Real Life from me.

He followed up the with this: "...see, racists can make racist nicknames against each other. in the good ol' days that meant camaraderie!"

Commenter Victor Michaelson weighed in as well: "It reminded me of the America I grew up in, where guys could razz their buddies and it wasn't a Federal offense."

Damn straight you raciss crackers!

We got a special word for you melanin-deficient and solar-sensitive folks here in Hawaii: Haole (pronounced "How-Lee").

From the greatest movie ever filmed in Hawaii

Most folks that have never been to Hawaii, or who have only visited briefly on vacation, have usually only heard of the word haole associated with only negative, racist connotations...the equivalent of the "N-word" for white folks.

That's simply not true. It's a very versatile word and can be used as a simple adjective, a term of endearment or employed as a provocative epithet. As a fair-complexioned (but not totally pale) hapa-haole mutt, I've had the term used on myself in all of these contexts at one time or another. Yet, whenever haole folks come to Hawaii and find themselves being referred by that term, they almost always take immediate offense.

Take this guy for instance:

More haole den haole...

Shua ting, brah, you one human...but you still one haole.

But seriously, let's take a closer look at where this term came from. It's a common myth that the term comes from the Hawaiians who first encountered Captain Cook and his crew's pale faces, they called them Ha'ole, a compound word made from combining Ha- meaning breath, with 'ole meaning without.

This legend is up for debate, as the linguists who study Hawaiian language and the Pidgin English have belabored to dispel the commonly accepted origin. To the credentialed classes, haole is it's own Hawaiian word, and it simply means foreigner:

So if we are to literally go by the textbook, haole really doesn't have anything to do with white skin. In theory, yes, but in practice, no. Thanks to the deluge of immigration from all corners of the globe mixing and miscegenating for a couple of centuries, Hawaii is the so-called ideal "melting pot" our modern day SJW's and progressives say they are supposedly working towards with the rest of the world. In such a chaotic environment of so many different skin tones, hair and eye colors, race is the first way we immediately identify each other, and in that context, haole means white.

I do believe Hawaii is the ideal "melting pot" society....but there are two distinct features about what we have here that makes it much different from the progressive/SJW ideal.

First thing that makes it "work" is we are all race realists, race conscious and racist to the core. It's the only way we can all get along. We don't try to uphold some unrealistic, mystical feeling of holiness attributed to the supposedly ideal paradigm of  "color blindness." In fact, we have the exact opposite. We're more color aware, we're all equal opportunity racists. We LOVE our stereotypes and our racist jokes. At least that was the Hawaii I grew up in. Because of this, we all have similar words like haole that are used to designate all the various races that call our islands home. We got similar words for the Japanese, Chinese, Koreans, Samoans, Micronesians, Filipinos, Puerto Ricans, Vietnamese, and Hispanics. Most of these terms are just like haole - they can serve as simple adjectives or spitefully intended perjoratives. In most cases, you just add the word fuckin' in front, and the harmless adjective turns into hateful, bigoted and racist invective.

Here's a song from the 70's from Hawaiian music's most popular act of that era, the Beamer Brothers. with one of their most popular songs that is still sung and played by musicians at parties and backyard jams everywhere in the islands to this day. In this song, all of the major ethnic groups and their sterotypes regarding their cultural practices and socio-economic status are fair game for good natured-ribbing:

The ending of the song really highlights the main point of this post here:

One thing I when notice 'bout this place

All us guys we tease the other race

It's amazing that we can all live in the same place

I sadly see more and more of the next generation of local folks accepting the progressive SJW mind rot programming of "equality" and "anti-racism," and our common culture is suffering for it. For decades, local stand up comedians made entire careers out of night club routines and television specials making fun of all the races that made up the multi-ethnic society of 20th century Hawaii. There were no sacred cows. We were all fair game...and it had us all laughing our asses off. Yeah, we may have been laughing at you...but then one minute later, it was my turn and you were now laughing at me too. And thus, we were all both laughing at and with each other.

This locally produced tell-a-vision show from 1984 could be considered a good representation of the high point of Hawaii's functionally racist society. It was a childhood favorite of mine, and I was pleasantly surprised to find a clip of it posted on youtube.

In case you didn't figure it out yet, while black folks are "foreigners" they are not haole. We call them Popolos. Hawaiian island/urban legend goes that the first African descendants who came to our shores where of the particular hue that was so dark, the Hawaiians thought they looked purple. The Hawaiian word for purple is popolu...hence popolo. I don't know if it's true or not, but I do know this: just like the word haole, popolo can be used interchangably as mere adjective, a term of endearment, or a race-based slur.

Speaking of stereotypes, we local folk also understand that most popolos that recently arrive from the mainland for are far more sensitive about race than any other race. We have met more than a few black folks that quickly figured out popolo was the Hawaiian word for those of African ancestry, and many immediately equate it with the N-word in significance. Not true though. If we are trying to be deliberately offensive, we'll use the N-word like any other garden variety racist in the world today.

Nevertheless, if we local folks are trying to talk about black people and there may be some within hearing distance when we are conversing who may possibly get offended, we may sometimes say Olopop instead of Popolo (popolo said backwards).

As I mentioned earlier, I was pleasantly surprised to find the preceding clip on youtube, because it is not commercially available anywhere here in 2015. This clip was undoubtedly someone using their smartphone to video clip their VHS or betamax copy of the program. You see, in the last decade or so, our formerly somewhat cooperative society of equal opportunity racism has been infected with the PC mind virus, and the SJW's holy church of blessed colorblindness has caused many folks to scream victimhood at racial humor that was one of our mainstays of local Hawaiian culture of the 20th century. So many of these race-based shows and stand up comedy routines are no longer available or reproduced or re-released anymore, out of fear someone or another will get offended and file a lawsuit to recover damages for their soiled panties or sand filled ass cracks.

That being said, one of the original local comedians from that earlier era of racist harmony still seems to be going at it on youtube, and this clip will give you a pretty good rundown on our history of ethnic diversity and multi-cultural adaptation with regards to linguistics and cultural attitudes of our multi-cult society:

This comedian, Andy Bumatai, was one of the most popular stand up comedians and local tell-a-vision personalities of the 80's. In 2015, this kind of comedy is increasingly coming under fire. Note his disclaimer at the beginning of the clip. Even 5-10 years ago, such a disclaimer would not have been necessary. Times they are a changin'. More and more of the younger generations of Hawaii's locals have been assimilated into the PC-SJW Borg by globalized mass media programming and public education brainwashing.

No siree, it's the 21st century, and we can no longer hurt anyone's FEEEEEEEELLLLLIIINNGS. 

Everybody is so fuckin' sensitive. It sucks. I want my openly racist society back. More and more we see letters to the editors and magazine articles and tell-a-vision programs pushing the "colorblind" paradigm and that all of the racist stereotypes that bonded us all together in common racism in 20th century Hawaii, are now being considered more and more to be  thoughtcrime and badthink that must be expunged from our consciousness. It makes me sick to see Hawaii's uniquely harmonious and cooperative society founded on a solid sense of racial differences, slowly and inexorably being subsumed by the homogenized and globalized Brave New World Order mass media culture programming of hypersensitivity and ludicrous "equality."

Up until recently, we didn't have a pretend, fake ideal that everyone supposedly openly touts while harboring secret racism in their carefully guarded hearts and circumspect tongues. No siree, here in our island paradise, we embraced bigotry and race-based differences whole-heartedly and without reservation. 

Our code word for it nowadays is "local humor" I've been to parties where people asked if it were okay to tell "local jokes," basically asking permission from all present if it's okay to tell race-based stereotypical jokes. Most are still down with the program...but more and more people are starting to reject what was once a proudly and openly racist society...and from where I sit, we 'aint better off for it.

See...one of the reasons our society of mixed races "works" is because no matter what race you are or what culture you come from, we have this overriding culture of  "ALOHA SPIRIT" that most people quickly assimilate to. In many ways, it's similar to how all the different pale face crackers assimilated into the AMERICAN DREAM in the 19th century. Anglo-Germanic-Iberian-Mediterranean-Slavic-Aryan-Nordic migrations all arrived with different cultures and languages, with the only thing in common being melanin-deficient and solar-sensitive skin. But buying into the American dream eventually gave us what many now consider simply as white Americans (or Canadians).

Just as the miscegenation of all those Euro-strains of paleface resulted in a generic, homogenized race called "white" we have the same thing here in Hawaii....but it 'aint called Hawaiian. Only those of us with actual Half-Savage Aboriginal blood in our veins can be called Hawaiian. Those who are born and raised here, but have no Hawaiian blood, and are for the most part the Oriental descendents of the plantation workers imported by the haole sugar barons as third world serfs, they are something else - "local." 

Here are some examples of this common culture of "Aloha spirit" that define "local" off the top of my head:

* We get rush hour traffic as bad as anywhere else in our modern world. But nobody honks their horns here...ever. Unless it's due to an extreme situation like an imminent accident or trying to catch someones attention in a dire situation, we just don't use our car horns like that. If you find yourself in Hawaiian rush hour traffic and you hear someone honking their horn in frustration... well there's the fuckin' haole (regardless of the race of the actual driver.)

* When you try to merge into traffic, put on your traffic signal and in a manner of moments, someone will let you in, guaranteed. A couple of fuckin' haole's may blast past you and not let you in, but eventually a local is going to slow down and hand wave you in. We even let haole's merge, but then curse them when they don't show appreciation for the courtesy.

* Speaking of traffic in Hawaii, here's one of our more popular bumper stickers:

*  Other than traffic customs, we have a generalized culture of common courtesy like holding the doors open
for complete strangers, and before the ubiquity of cell phones, we always stopped to help fellow motorists with broke down cars and flat tires.

* When we eat in self service restaurants, fast food joints and plate lunch places, we clean up our tables and throw away all of our rubbish. The first time I went to the US Mainland at age 18, one of the first big culture shocks I experienced was seeing fast food patrons leave their trays and rubbish at their tables when they were done eating for the workers to clean up.

These are just a few examples of what I'm trying to get at. The "melting pot" ideal can only work when their is a common ideal that various racial stocks strive to assimilate to. 

As the comedian stated in the preceding clip, there are two kinds of haole, local haole and haole. I believe it actually goes further than that. In terms of use as a harmless adjective, haole just means white skin. No more, no less.

As a perjorative, however, it really means a white skinned person who doesn't conform to local norms aka "No more aloha." Most of us mixed race mutts and half savage racists of Hawaii got no problem with local haoles...or even haoles who are not born and raised, but demonstrate an affinity for the Aloha spirit ethos. Many a local who 'hates' haoles in general, end up marrying one and making hapa-haole babies. Despite having a paleface spouse and paleface children, will still "hate" haoles (the NO ALOHA kine.)

For real kine...some of my best friends are Japs, Pakes, Soles, Kanaks, Pordagees, Buk Buks, Yobos, Haoles and Popolos. I also know folks of all said races who I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire.

I once got into a scrap with a filipino kid in middle school, because he called me a fuckin' haole. I told him to fuck off, I'm Hawaiian, and that he was a dumb flip buk buk whose parents came here to pick pineapple for $.05 a day and that he should take his ass back to the Philipines. We punched each other in the face a few times, the teachers broke us up, and we later became friends when we had to serve detention together. He would often greet me as "haole boy" and I'd call him buk buk, and we'd laugh as we shook hands.

It's pretty much how we roll here in Hawaii.


In summation, racial awareness plays an important role in Hawaiian society, but it's not the be all end all. If you "get" what Aloha means, you can fit and find a comfortable space amongst others, regardless of your race.




To wrap things up, I offer you this quick guide for HBD-Hawaiian Style.

Since most of the previous section of this post discussed the term Haole, Whites are omitted here to avoid excessive redundancy. We talked enough about da haoles.

Blacks: Popolo, Olopops. Most popolos come to Hawaii as stationed military personnel. Most usually don't get it any better or worse than any other minority in Hawaii. If they get involved in an aggressive or violent conflict, the N-word may get used on them, but popolo is usually preferred. There are no real popolo jokes unique to Hawaii, as most are just popular black jokes that just substitute the word popolo for the N-word.

What do you call 1000 popolo skydivers jumping out of  da airplanes all at da same time? Nightfall.

Chinese: Pake ('Pah-kay'), Chink, slant-eye, slope, Cha Wan (chinese name for the rice bowl haircut), Chang. Terms When used perjoratively, Pake and Chang denote stinginess, miserliness, an unhealthy love of money and unscrupulous in acquiring it. Most Jewish jokes will work in Hawaii by substituting Pake.

Wot da difference between one Pake and one canoe? Canoes sometimes tip.

How do da Pakes name their children? They copy da sounds of da cash register! Ching! Chang! Chong!

Whats da odda way dey name da kids? Dey throw silvah weah down da stairs!

Filipinos: Flip, Buk Buk ('Book-Book'), Manong (Mah-nong). Notorious for eating goat and dog meat (particularly black dog), avid gamblers and chicken fighters. Also notorious for living with 30 extended family members in a 3 bedroom townhome...or buying a 3 bedroom house and building large extensions that resemble Spanish villas, so they can house 30 more family members.

You heard of da new Filipino cookbook? 101 ways for wok your dog.

What do da Buk Buk's call da dog catcha truck? Meals on Wheels

What do Buk Buk's call da Humane Society? (local animal shelter) Foodland! (local grocery store chain)

Japanese: Japanee, Jap, Buddha-head, rice-eye, bolo head, nip. Haole-fied Japanese are called katonk or  banana (yellow on the outside, white on the inside). The largest homogeneous ethnicity block in Hawaii. Least likely race to date, marry or even socialize significantly with all the other races. Back in da school days, if you wanted to start a scrap with a jap, you said this:

What you said, Buddha-head? Eh, no lie, rice eye!

Jews: Haole. Since most Jews are fair skinned, we don't give them their own racial category. They're just haole.  And we don't really tell Jewish jokes here either. That's what Pake jokes are for. But that does remind me of the one Jewish joke I once heard at a party...told by a hapa-haole Jew (he was half Jewish, half Popolo, born and raised here):


Know how copper wire got invented? A Jew and a Pake were fighting over a penny.


Koreans: Yobo, Kim Chee, Kink (Korean chink), Seoul Brother (A Korean that acts black). Because Koreans were relatively late comers in terms of immigration compared to the other Oriental ethnicities, Korean jokes are not that popular, but there are a few. Yobo is the Korean word for sweetheart, but in Hawaii, it's used as a derogatory reference. Most korean jokes are puns off of the word.


Heard of da Korean police man? Yobocop! 


Samoans: Sole (So-lay). Due to their reputations as very large, strong and fierce fighters who are ready to scrap at the drop of a hat, there are no real derogatory terms for Samoans. Sole is what Samoans call themselves, and locals usually can use the term casually....but even using that word wrong with an easy to anger Samoan could prove volatile. Most Sole fall into two categories: 1) super nice, easy going, humorous, fun loving and gregarious. 2) Ultra violent, looking for trouble, very easy to anger and always ready to give Palagi and others a sase (strike)! Nevertheless, there are a large number of Samoan jokes that mostly focus on making fun of their speech. These jokes are usually only told in hushed whispers after checking around to make sure none are around to hear....

Heard of da Samoan Accoutant? Tua Tua Isa Foa!

Heard of da Samoan who fell off da couch? Sole Fe Lafa Sofa!


Portuguese: Portagee, Pordagee, Pocho, Porcho. Haoles often think they get the worst of the prejudice jokes in Hawaii. They're wrong. That would be the Pordagees. Infamous for being obnoxious by talking way too much, talking without thinking first, and considered the dimmest, least intelligent race. Take any Polak joke and substitute Pordagee and you have typical Hawaii pordagee jokes. Despite the joking reputation, Pordagees are usually quite sharp and witty, and many of the most popular comedians are proud Pordagees who tell the best-loved Pordagee jokes.

You heard why get no more ice in Portugal? Da old Pordagee lady with da recipe when die.

Know why da Pordagee farmer was feeding his sheep scrap metal? He was trying for raise steel wool.

As I said, their reputation is one of dim wits....but here's a Pordagee joke that belies the stereotype:

Know why Pordagee Jokes are so short? So Hawaiians can understand them.

A Pordagee guy told that one to me after I told him a Pordagee joke. Touche!


Hawaiians: Kanaka, Kanaks, Kanaka Maoli. Oft stereotype is lazy, indolent; don't like to work. When the haole sugar plantation owners needed a workforce to farm their sugar, there were not enough Hawaiians to work because so many had died from introduced diseases like small pox, measles and STDs. And those that did survive, would still only work 'Hawaiian style." We can broke ass, but we goin' take one mid day break when da sun is hottest in da sky. The haole plantation owners didn't like that one bit, so they brought in all the other immigrants who would work from sun up to sun down with barely a break for minimal wages.

 Take any lazy jokes about blacks and substitute Hawaiian.

How come da Pakes no like marry Hawaiians? Dey no like kids too lazy for pick sugar cane.
How come da Buk Buks no like marry Hawaiians? Dey no like kids too lazy for pick pineapple.

How come da Popolos no like marry Hawaiians? Dey no like kids too lazy for steal.


'Aint diversity grand?




Update:


Remember: "Nobody Listens to Turtle".


And Conan's view of the races/race relations:


"There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless."

 

Blacks And Slavery

Two articles for record keeping:

The First Legal Slave Owner in What Would Become the United States was a Black Man

Today I found out the first legal slave owner, in what would eventually become the United States, was a black man.

The man was Anthony Johnson.  Johnson first came over to America as an indentured servant, arriving in 1620 in the Colony of Virginia.  He did not come over willingly, as many did, agreeing to become indentured servants in exchange for passage to the New World. Rather, Johnson was captured in Angola by neighboring tribesmen and eventually sold to a merchant who transported him to Virginia, where he was then sold to a tobacco farmer.
Despite this, Johnson was not technically a slave, as most think of it.  He was simply required to serve the farmer for a time in exchange for room and board.  However, like slaves, indentured servants could be sold or lent out to someone else, and, for the most part, they could be punished how those that owned their contracts saw fit.
One of the biggest differences between slaves and indentured servants was that once the indentured servant’s contract was up, depending on the agreement made with the person paying for transport, often the former servant would be given some small compensation for their services to help them get their start as free individuals.  This might include some amount of land, food (often a year’s worth), clothing, and tools.
During their time serving, indentured servants also typically learned some trade as they worked, which was significant for many who chose to make the journey to the Americas as indentured servants- often poor, uneducated individuals, lacking a trade, and in search of the promise of a better life.  Because of this, in the early days, most indentured servants in the British colonies in America were actually Irish, English, German, and Scottish, rather than African.
Johnson, of course, didn’t choose to come over. Nevertheless, once in America, he toiled away as a tobacco farmer for the duration of his contract.  During this time, he also met a woman (soon to be his wife) named simply “Mary”, who had been brought over to America about two years after Johnson, with her contract also being purchased by the same man who owned Johnson’s contract.
In 1635, after working on the tobacco farm for about 14 years, Johnson was granted his freedom and acquired land and the necessaries to start his own farm.  Sources are conflicting on whether he purchased the remaining years on his wife’s contract or whether she completed it, but in the end, the two, with their lives now their own, began working for themselves.
They soon prospered and took advantage of the “headright” system in place for encouraging more colonists, where if you paid to bring a new colonist over, whether purchasing them at the docks or arranging it before hand with someone, you’d be awarded 50 acres of land.  Similarly, those who paid their own passage would be given land under this system.
This leads us to 1654. One of Johnson’s servants, John Casor who was brought over from Africa, claimed he was under a “seaven or eight yeares” contract and that he’d completed it. Thus, he asked Johnson for his freedom.
Johnson didn’t see things this way, and denied the request. Despite this, according to Casor, Johnson eventually agreed to allow him to leave, with pressure supposedly coming from Johnson’s family who felt that Casor should be free.  Thus, Casor went to work for a man by the name of Robert Parker.
Either Johnson changed his mind or he never said Casor could go, because he soon filed a lawsuit against Parker claiming that Parker stole his servant, and that Casor was Johnson’s for life and was not an indentured servant.
Johnson ultimately won the case, and not only did he get his servant back, but Casor became Johnson’s slave for life as Johnson had said he was.  This officially made Johnson the first legal slave owner in the colonies that would eventually become the United States. (There were other slaves before this, just not ones that were legal in the British colonies under common law).
The judge’s decision on the matter was announced as follows:

This daye Anthony Johnson negro made his complaint to the court against Mr. Robert Parker and declared that hee deteyneth his servant John Casor negro under the pretence that said negro was a free man. The court seriously consideringe and maturely weighing the premisses, doe fynde that the saide Mr. Robert Parker most unjustly keepeth the said Negro from Anthony Johnson his master … It is therefore the Judgement of the Court and ordered That the said John Casor Negro forthwith returne unto the service of the said master Anthony Johnson, And that Mr. Robert Parker make payment of all charges in the suit.

About 7 years later, Virginia made this practice legal for everyone, in 1661, by making it state law for any free white, black, or Indian, to be able to own slaves, along with indentured servants, as they’d been able to have before.
While Johnson’s temporarily gain of being granted the services of one of his indentured servants for life no doubt had a positive affect on his thriving business, ultimately the gradual changing of attitudes in the colonies concerning slavery and race came back to hurt Johnson’s family, with slavery slowly becoming less about one’s original financial situation and more about where you or your ancestors were originally from.
When he died in 1670, rather than his thriving plantation going to his children, the court declared that “as a black man, Anthony Johnson was not a citizen of the colony” and awarded the estate to a white settler. Quite a contrast to the declaration in 1654 by the court that Johnson and his wife were “…inhabitants in Virginia (above thirty years) [and respected for] hard labor and known service.”

Bonus Facts:

• While most of the land in Johnson’s estate was taken away, his children were allowed a small portion of Johnson’s former property to use to provide for themselves, but even that 40 acres was lost by Johnson’s grandson, John Jr., when he was unable to pay his taxes one year.
• While Johnson is generally considered by most historians to be the first legal slave owner in what would become the United States, there was one person who preceded him in 1640 who owned a slave in all but name.  The virtual slave was John Punch, ordered to be an indentured servant for life, though by law was still considered an indentured servant with all the rights that went with that.  In Punch’s case, he was made a lifelong indentured servant owing to the fact that he tried to leave before his contract was up.  When he was captured and brought back, the judge in the matter decided a suitable punishment was to have Punch’s contract continue for the rest of his life.
• What makes Punch’s case even more interesting (and unfair) is that when he ran away, he ran away with two white indentured servants who were also seeking to get out of their contract.  The punishment for the white indentured servants was not a lifetime of servitude, though.  Rather, they were given 30 lashes with a whip and a mere additional 4 years on their contracts.
• The average price for bringing an indentured servant over to America in the 17th century was just £6.  Meaning that under the headright system, as long as you could afford to feed, clothe, and house them, you could acquire 50 acres of land for just over £1 per 10 acres.
• The first Africans to be imported to the Americas were brought over in the 1560s, primarily in areas controlled by Spain.  The English colonies didn’t start importing Africans until much later, around 1619, just a couple years before Anthony Johnson was brought over. The first group to the British colonies were imported to Jamestown and comprised of 20 Africans who had been aboard a Spanish ship that was attacked by a Dutch vessel.  After the Dutch crew successfully took over the Spanish ship, they were left with 20 Africans who they took to Jamestown and declared were indentured servants, trading them for supplies.
• In Virginia, in 1662, legislatures enacted a law stating that if you owned a slave, not only were they yours for life, but any children of a slave mother would also be a slave, regardless of whether the father was a slave or not.  Before this, the father’s status was typically what was used to determine the child’s status, regardless of race or the mother.
• A further change of the laws came in 1670 when a law was passed forbidding those of African or Indian descent from owning any “Christian” slaves.  In this case, this did not necessarily mean literal Christian slaves; if you had a black or Indian slave who was a Christian, that was fine, as they were black or Indian, and thus “heathen”, regardless of what they said or believed or even if they were baptized.
• A further hardening of the laws came in 1699. In an attempt to get rid of all the prominent free black people, Virginia enacted a law requiring all free black people to leave the colony, to further cement the majority of free people in the colonies as non-black, and allow the tyranny of the majority with respect to those of African descent to progress unhindered.  Many did not have the funds to actually leave, and some chose to ignore the decree, as relationships between whites and free blacks tended to be as you’d expect humans to act towards one another, namely somewhat friendly in many cases; this included some intermarrying, despite the fact that to some extent this was discouraged even then, primarily because Africans were considered “heathens”.  Obviously those either from Africa or of African descent who had married someone of European descent weren’t inclined to leave their spouses and homes. In fact, it’s estimated that about 80% of all those non-slaves of African descent in the United States between 1790 and 1810 were a product of this intermarrying in the Virginia colony.

DIXIE'S CENSORED SUBJECT BLACK SLAVEOWNERS

By Robert M. Grooms

In an 1856 letter to his wife Mary Custis Lee, Robert E. Lee called slavery "a moral and political evil." Yet he concluded that black slaves were immeasurably better off here than in Africa, morally, socially and physically.

The fact is large numbers of free Negroes owned black slaves; in fact, in numbers disproportionate to their representation in society at large. In 1860 only a small minority of whites owned slaves. According to the U.S. census report for that last year before the Civil War, there were nearly 27 million whites in the country. Some eight million of them lived in the slaveholding states.

The census also determined that there were fewer than 385,000 individuals who owned slaves (1). Even if all slaveholders had been white, that would amount to only 1.4 percent of whites in the country (or 4.8 percent of southern whites owning one or more slaves).

In the rare instances when the ownership of slaves by free Negroes is acknowledged in the history books, justification centers on the claim that black slave masters were simply individuals who purchased the freedom of a spouse or child from a white slaveholder and had been unable to legally manumit them. Although this did indeed happen at times, it is a misrepresentation of the majority of instances, one which is debunked by records of the period on blacks who owned slaves. These include individuals such as Justus Angel and Mistress L. Horry, of Colleton District, South Carolina, who each owned 84 slaves in 1830. In fact, in 1830 a fourth of the free Negro slave masters in South Carolina owned 10 or more slaves; eight owning 30 or more (2).

According to federal census reports, on June 1, 1860 there were nearly 4.5 million Negroes in the United States, with fewer than four million of them living in the southern slaveholding states. Of the blacks residing in the South, 261,988 were not slaves. Of this number, 10,689 lived in New Orleans. The country's leading African American historian, Duke University professor John Hope Franklin, records that in New Orleans over 3,000 free Negroes owned slaves, or 28 percent of the free Negroes in that city.

To return to the census figures quoted above, this 28 percent is certainly impressive when compared to less than 1.4 percent of all American whites and less than 4.8 percent of southern whites. The statistics show that, when free, blacks disproportionately became slave masters.

The majority of slaveholders, white and black, owned only one to five slaves. More often than not, and contrary to a century and a half of bullwhips-on-tortured-backs propaganda, black and white masters worked and ate alongside their charges; be it in house, field or workshop. The few individuals who owned 50 or more slaves were confined to the top one percent, and have been defined as slave magnates.

In 1860 there were at least six Negroes in Louisiana who owned 65 or more slaves The largest number, 152 slaves, were owned by the widow C. Richards and her son P.C. Richards, who owned a large sugar cane plantation. Another Negro slave magnate in Louisiana, with over 100 slaves, was Antoine Dubuclet, a sugar planter whose estate was valued at (in 1860 dollars) $264,000 (3). That year, the mean wealth of southern white men was $3,978 (4).

In Charleston, South Carolina in 1860 125 free Negroes owned slaves; six of them owning 10 or more. Of the $1.5 million in taxable property owned by free Negroes in Charleston, more than $300,000 represented slave holdings (5). In North Carolina 69 free Negroes were slave owners (6).

In 1860 William Ellison was South Carolina's largest Negro slaveowner. In Black Masters. A Free Family of Color in the Old South, authors Michael P. Johnson and James L. Roak write a sympathetic account of Ellison's life. From Ellison's birth as a slave to his death at 71, the authors attempt to provide justification, based on their own speculation, as to why a former slave would become a magnate slave master.

At birth he was given the name April. A common practice among slaves of the period was to name a child after the day or month of his or her birth. Between 1800 and 1802 April was purchased by a white slave-owner named William Ellison. Apprenticed at 12, he was taught the trades of carpentry, blacksmithing and machining, as well as how to read, write, cipher and do basic bookkeeping.

On June 8, 1816, William Ellison appeared before a magistrate (with five local freeholders as supporting witnesses) to gain permission to free April, now 26 years of age. In 1800 the South Carolina legislature had set out in detail the procedures for manumission. To end the practice of freeing unruly slaves of "bad or depraved" character and those who "from age or infirmity" were incapacitated, the state required that an owner testify under oath to the good character of the slave he sought to free. Also required was evidence of the slave's "ability to gain a livelihood in an honest way."

Although lawmakers of the time could not envision the incredibly vast public welfare structures of a later age, these stipulations became law in order to prevent slaveholders from freeing individuals who would become a burden on the general public.

Interestingly, considering today's accounts of life under slavery, authors Johnson and Roak report instances where free Negroes petitioned to be allowed to become slaves; this because they were unable to support themselves.

Black Confederates and Afro-Yankees in Civil War Virginia (University Press of Virginia-1995) was written by Ervin L. Jordan Jr., an African-American and assistant professor and associate curator of the Special Collections Department, University of Virginia library. He wrote: "One of the more curious aspects of the free black existence in Virginia was their ownership of slaves. Black slave masters owned members of their family and freed them in their wills. Free blacks were encouraged to sell themselves into slavery and had the right to choose their owner through a lengthy court procedure."

In 1816, shortly after his manumission, April moved to Stateburg. Initially he hired slave workers from local owners. When in 1817 he built a gin for Judge Thomas Watries, he credited the judge nine dollars "for hire of carpenter George for 12 days." By 1820 he had purchased two adult males to work in his shop (7). In fewer than four years after being freed, April demonstrated that he had no problem perpetuating an institution he had been released from. He also achieved greater monetary success than most white people of the period.

On June 20, 1820, April appeared in the Sumter District courthouse in Sumterville. Described in court papers submitted by his attorney as a "freed yellow man of about 29 years of age," he requested a name change because it "would yet greatly advance his interest as a tradesman." A new name would also "save him and his children from degradation and contempt which the minds of some do and will attach to the name April." Because "of the kindness" of his former master and as a "Mark of gratitude and respect for him" April asked that his name be changed to William Ellison. His request was granted.

In time the black Ellison family joined the predominantly white Episcopalian church. On August 6, 1824 he was allowed to put a family bench on the first floor, among those of the wealthy white families. Other blacks, free and slave, and poor whites sat in the balcony. Another wealthy Negro family would later join the first floor worshippers.

Between 1822 and the mid-1840s, Ellison gradually built a small empire, acquiring slaves in increasing numbers. He became one of South Carolina's major cotton gin manufacturers, selling his machines as far away as Mississippi. From February 1817 until the War Between the States commenced, his business advertisements appeared regularly in newspapers across the state. These included the Camden Gazette, the Sumter Southern Whig and the Black River Watchman.

Ellison was so successful, due to his utilization of cheap slave labor, that many white competitors went out of business. Such situations discredit impressions that whites dealt only with other whites. Where money was involved, it was apparent that neither Ellison's race or former status were considerations.

In his book, Ervin L. Jordan Jr. writes that, as the great conflagration of 1861-1865 approached: "Free Afro-Virginians were a nascent black middle class under siege, but several acquired property before and during the war. Approximately 169 free blacks owned 145,976 acres in the counties of Amelia, Amherst, Isle of Wight, Nansemond, Prince William and Surry, averaging 870 acres each. Twenty-rune Petersburg blacks each owned property worth $1,000 and continued to purchase more despite the war."

Jordan offers an example: "Gilbert Hunt, a Richmond ex-slave blacksmith, owned two slaves, a house valued at $1,376, and $500 in other properties at his death in 1863." Jordan wrote that "some free black residents of Hampton and Norfolk owned property of considerable value; 17 black Hamptonians possessed property worth a total of $15,000. Thirty-six black men paid taxes as heads of families in Elizabeth City County and were employed as blacksmiths, bricklayers, fishermen, oystermen and day laborers. In three Norfolk County parishes 160 blacks owned a total of $41,158 in real estate and personal property.

The general practice of the period was that plantation owners would buy seed and equip~ ment on credit and settle their outstanding accounts when the annual cotton crop was sold. Ellison, like all free Negroes, could resort to the courts for enforcement of the terms of contract agreements. Several times Ellison successfully sued white men for money owed him.

In 1838 Ellison purchased on time 54.5 acres adjoining his original acreage from one Stephen D. Miller. He moved into a large home on the property. What made the acquisition notable was that Miller had served in the South Carolina legislature, both in the U.S. House of Representatives and the Senate, and while a resident of Stateburg had been governor of the state. Ellison's next door neighbor was Dr. W.W. Anderson, master of "Borough House, a magnificent 18th Century mansion. Anderson's son would win fame in the War Between the States as General "Fighting Dick" Anderson.

By 1847 Ellison owned over 350 acres, and more than 900 by 1860. He raised mostly cotton, with a small acreage set aside for cultivating foodstuffs to feed his family and slaves. In 1840 he owned 30 slaves, and by 1860 he owned 63. His sons, who lived in homes on the property, owned an additional nine slaves. They were trained as gin makers by their father (8). They had spent time in Canada, where many wealthy American Negroes of the period sent their children for advanced formal education. Ellison's sons and daughters married mulattos from Charleston, bringing them to the Ellison plantation to live.

In 1860 Ellison greatly underestimated his worth to tax assessors at $65,000. Even using this falsely stated figure, this man who had been a slave 44 years earlier had achieved great financial success. His wealth outdistanced 90 percent of his white neighbors in Sumter District. In the entire state, only five percent owned as much real estate as Ellison. His wealth was 15 times greater than that of the state's average for whites. And Ellison owned more slaves than 99 percent of the South's slaveholders.

Although a successful businessman and cotton farmer, Ellison's major source of income derived from being a "slave breeder." Slave breeding was looked upon with disgust throughout the South, and the laws of most southern states forbade the sale of slaves under the age of 12. In several states it was illegal to sell inherited slaves (9). Nevertheless, in 1840 Ellison secretly began slave breeding.

While there was subsequent investment return in raising and keeping young males, females were not productive workers in his factory or his cotton fields. As a result, except for a few females he raised to become "breeders," Ellison sold the female and many of the male children born to his female slaves at an average price of $400. Ellison had a reputation as a harsh master. His slaves were said to be the district's worst fed and clothed. On his property was located a small, windowless building where he would chain his problem slaves.

As with the slaves of his white counterparts, occasionally Ellison's slaves ran away. The historians of Sumter District reported that from time to time Ellison advertised for the return of his runaways. On at least one occasion Ellison hired the services of a slave catcher. According to an account by Robert N. Andrews, a white man who had purchased a small hotel in Stateburg in the 1820s, Ellison hired him to run down "a valuable slave. Andrews caught the slave in Belleville, Virginia. He stated: "I was paid on returning home $77.50 and $74 for expenses.

William Ellison died December 5, 1861. His will stated that his estate should pass into the joint hands of his free daughter and his two surviving sons. He bequeathed $500 to the slave daughter he had sold.

Following in their father's footsteps, the Ellison family actively supported the Confederacy throughout the war. They converted nearly their entire plantation to the production of corn, fodder, bacon, corn shucks and cotton for the Confederate armies. They paid $5,000 in taxes during the war. They also invested more than $9,000 in Confederate bonds, treasury notes and certificates in addition to the Confederate currency they held. At the end, all this valuable paper became worthless.

The younger Ellisons contributed more than farm produce, labor and money to the Confederate cause. On March 27, 1863 John Wilson Buckner, William Ellison's oldest grandson, enlisted in the 1st South Carolina Artillery. Buckner served in the company of Captains P.P. Galliard and A.H. Boykin, local white men who knew that Buckner was a Negro. Although it was illegal at the time for a Negro to formally join the Confederate forces, the Ellison family's prestige nullified the law in the minds of Buckner's comrades. Buckner was wounded in action on July 12, 1863. At his funeral in Stateburg in August, 1895 he was praised by his former Confederate officers as being a "faithful soldier."

Following the war the Ellison family fortune quickly dwindled. But many former Negro slave magnates quickly took advantage of circumstances and benefited by virtue of their race. For example Antoine Dubuclet, the previously mentioned New Orleans plantation owner who held more than 100 slaves, became Louisiana state treasurer during Reconstruction, a post he held from 1868 to 1877 (10).

A truer picture of the Old South, one never presented by the nation's mind molders, emerges from this account. The American South had been undergoing structural evolutionary changes far, far greater than generations of Americans have been led to believe. In time, within a relatively short time, the obsolete and economically nonviable institution of slavery would have disappeared. The nation would have been spared awesome traumas from which it would never fully recover.

---

NOTES

1. The American Negro: Old World Background and New World Experience, Raymond Logan and Irving Cohen New York: Houghton and Mifflin, 1970), p.72.

2. Black Masters: A Free Family of Color in the Old South, Michael P. Johnson and James L. Roak New York: Norton, 1984), p.64.

3. The Forgotten People: Cane River's Creoles of Color, Gary Mills (Baton Rouge, 1977); Black Masters, p.128.

4. Male inheritance expectations in the United States in 1870, 1850-1870, Lee Soltow (New Haven, 1975), p.85.

5. Black Masters, Appendix, Table 7; p.280.

6. Black Masters, p. 62.

7. Information on the Ellison family was obtained from Black Masters; the number of slaves they owned was gained from U.S. Census Reports.

8. In 1860 South Carolina had only 21 gin makers; Ellison, his three sons and a grandson account for five of the total.

9. Neither Black Nor White: Slavery and Race Relations in Brazil and the United States, Carl N. Degler (New York, Macmillan, 1971), p.39;
     Negro Slavery in Louisiana, Joe Gray Taylor (Baton Rouge, 1963), pp. 4041.

10. Reconstruction: America's Unfinished Revolution, 1863-1877, Eric Foner (New York; Harper & Row, 1988), p. 47; pp. 353-355.

Kindle Available

Black Slaveowners: Free Black Slave Masters in South Carolina, 1790-1860
An analysis of all aspects and particularly of the commercialism of black slaveowning debunks the myth that black slaveholding was a benevolent institution based on kinship, and explains the transition of black masters from slavery to paid labor.




T

 

Racism and Hate Facts From the 2010 National Crime Victimization Survey

via NC Links via comment at TRS

What Really Happened to Emmett Till

I have always wondered what the full details of this incident were.

Killer's Confession from Look Magazine

The Shocking Story of Approved Killing in Mississippi
By William Bradford Huie
Editors Note: In the long history of man's inhumanity to man, racial conflict has produced some of the most horrible examples of brutality. The recent slaying of Emmett Till in Mississippi is a case in point. The editors of Look are convinced that they are presenting here, for the first time, the real story of that killing -- the story no jury heard and no newspaper reader saw.

Disclosed here is the true account of the slaying in Mississippi of a Negro youth named Emmett Till.
Last September in Sumner, Miss., a petit jury found the youth's admitted abductors not guilty of murder. In November, in Greenwood, a grand jury declined to indict them for kidnapping.

Of the murder trial, the Memphis Commercial Appeal said: "Evidence necessary for convicting on a murder charge was lacking." But with truth absent, hypocrisy and myth have flourished. Now, hypocrisy can be exposed; myth dispelled. Here are the facts.
Carolyn Holloway Bryant is 21, five feet tall, weighs 103 pounds. An Irish girl, with black hair and black eyes, she is a small farmer's daughter who, at 17, quit high school at Indianola, Miss., to marry a soldier, Roy Bryant, then 20, now 24. The couple have two boys, three and two; and they operate a store at a dusty crossroads called Money: post office, filling station and three stores clustered around a school and a gin, and set in the vast, lonely cotton patch that is the Mississippi Delta.

Carolyn and Roy Bryant are poor: no car, no TV. They live in the back of the store which Roy's brothers helped set up when he got out of the 82nd Airborne in 1953. They sell "snuff-and-fatback" to Negro field hands on credit: and they earn little because, for one reason, the government has been giving the Negroes food they formerly bought.
Carolyn and Roy Bryant's social life is visits to their families, to the Baptist church, and, whenever they can borrow a car, to a drive-in, with the kids sleeping in the back seat. They call Shane the best picture they ever saw.

For extra money, Carolyn tends store when Roy works outside -- like truck driving for a brother. And he has many brothers. His mother had two husbands, 11 children. The first five -- all boys -- were "Milam children"; the next six -- three boys, three girls -- were "Bryant children."
This is a lusty and devoted clan. They work, fight, vote and play as a family. The "half" in their fraternity is forgotten. For years, they have operated a chain of cottonfield stores, as well as trucks and mechanical cotton pickers. In relation to the Negroes, they are somewhat like white traders in portions of Africa today; and they are determined to resist the revolt of colored men against white rule.

On Wednesday evening, August 24, 1955, Roy was in Texas, on a brother's truck. He had carted shrimp from New Orleans to San Antonio, proceeded to Brownsville. Carolyn was alone in the store. But back in the living quarters was her sister-in-law Juanita Milam, 27, with her two small sons and Carolyn's two. The store was kept open till 9 on week nights, 11 on Saturday.
When her husband was away, Carolyn Bryant never slept in the store, never stayed there alone after dark. Moreover, in the Delta, no white woman ever travels country roads after dark unattended by a man.

This meant that during Roy's absences -- particularly since he had no car -- there was family inconvenience. Each afternoon, a sister-in-law arrived to stay with Carolyn until closing time. Then, the two women, with their children, waited for a brother-in-law to convoy them to his home. Next morning, the sister-in-law drove Carolyn back.

Juanita Milam had driven from her home in Glendora. She had parked in front of the store to the left; and under the front seat of this car was Roy Bryant's pistol, a .38 Colt automatic. Carolyn knew it was there. After 9, Juanita's husband, J. W. Milam, would arrive in his pickup to shepherd them to his home for the night.

About 7:30 pm, eight young Negroes -- seven boys and a girl -- in a '46 Ford had stopped outside. They included sons, grandsons and a nephew of Moses (Preacher) Wright, 64, a 'cropper. They were between 13 and 19 years old. Four were natives of the Delta and others, including the nephew, Emmett (Bobo) Till, were visiting from the Chicago area.

Bobo Till was 14 years old: born on July 25, 1941. He was stocky, muscular, weighing about 160, five feet four or five. Preacher later testified: "He looked like a man."
Bobo's party joined a dozen other young Negroes, including two other girls, in front of the store. Bryant had built checkerboards there. Some were playing checkers, others were wrestling and "kiddin' about girls."

Bobo bragged about his white girl. He showed the boys a picture of a white girl in his wallet; and to their jeers of disbelief, he boasted of success with her.
"You talkin' mighty big, Bo," one youth said. "There's a pretty little white woman in the store. Since you know how to handle white girls, let's see you go in and get a date with her?"
"You ain't chicken, are yuh, Bo?" another youth taunted him.
Bobo had to fire or fall back. He entered the store, alone, stopped at the candy case. Carolyn was behind the counter; Bobo in front. He asked for two cents' worth of bubble gum. She handed it to him. He squeezed her hand and said: "How about a date, baby?"
She jerked away and started for Juanita Milam. At the break between counters, Bobo jumped in front of her, perhaps caught her at the waist, and said: "You needn't be afraid o' me, Baby. I been with white girls before."

[ED NOTE: The phrase "I been with white girls before" might have been possibly "I f**ked white girls before." or something similar. Court records show Carolyn Bryant testified that Till used an "unprintable word":

Carolyn Bryant described the August 24 incident at Bryant's Grocery & Meat Market.  Bryant said that "just after dark" with her alone in the store, Till strongly gripped her hand as she held in out on the candy counter to collect money.  She said she jerked her hand loose "with much difficulty" as Till asked her, "How about a date, baby?"  When she tried to walk away, she stated, Till grabbed her by the waist and said, "You needn't be afraid of me.  I've"--and here Bryant said Till used an "unprintable word"--"white women before."  Bryant testified, "I was just scared to death." 

I looked at Wikipedia to see what it had in reference to this. Wikipedia's account suggests something different, as if some random curse word was just thrown out. ]

[Also, from a comment found, edited for vulgarity:

"Now, I'm going to stop right there. Close your eyes. Imagine it is 2013. You have a 100-pound wife. A 14-year-old, 150-lb white kid grabs her and says, "Don't be afraid; I've f**ked married women before." What are you going to do to that kid? Now imagine it's 1955, and a white kid did that to your wife. The truth has very little to do with the fact that Till was black. It has everything to do with the fact that Till acted like (trashy, verbal/sexual assaulter).....

When Till's friends saw what he was doing, they grabbed him and quickly hustled him out of the store. Carolyn Bryant stopped, ran out the front door behind them to her brother-in-law's car, and grabbed a pistol from under the seat. She was terrified. I don't have to explain to any of you why. "]

At this point, a cousin ran in, grabbed Bobo and began pulling him out of the store. Carolyn now ran, not for Juanita, but out the front, and got the pistol from the Milam car.
Outside, with Bobo being ushered off by his cousins, and with Carolyn getting the gun, Bobo executed the "wolf whistle" which gave the case its name:
THE WOLF-WHISTLE MURDER: A NEGRO "CHILD" OR "BOY" WHISTLED AT HER AND THEY KILLED HIM.
That was the sum of the facts on which most newspaper readers based an opinion.
The Negroes drove away; and Carolyn, shaken, told Juanita. The two women determined to keep the incident from their "Men-folks." They didn't tell J. W. Milam when he came to escort them home.

By Thursday afternoon, Carolyn Bryant could see the story was getting around. She spent Thursday night at the Milams, where at 4 a.m. (Friday) Roy got back from Texas. Since he had slept little for five nights, he went to bed at the Milams' while Carolyn returned to the store.

During Friday afternoon, Roy reached the store, and shortly thereafter a Negro told him what "the talk" was, and told him that the "Chicago boy" was "visitin' Preacher." Carolyn then told Roy what had happened.

Once Roy Bryant knew, in his environment, in the opinion of most white people around him, for him to have done nothing would have marked him for a coward and a fool.
On Friday night, he couldn't do anything. He and Carolyn were alone, and he had no car. Saturday was collection day, their busy day in the store. About 10:30 Saturday night, J. W. Milam drove by. Roy took him aside.

"I want you to come over early in the morning," he said. "I need a little transportation."
J.W. protested: "Sunday's the only morning I can sleep. Can't we make it around noon?"
Roy then told him.
"I'll be there," he said. "Early."
J. W. drove to another brother's store at Minter City, where he was working. He closed that store about 12:30 a.m., drove home to Glendora. Juanita was away, visiting her folks at Greenville. J. W. had been thinking. He decided not to go to bed. He pumped the pickup -- a half-ton '55 Chevrolet -- full of gas and headed for Money.

J. W. "Big Milam" is 36: six feet two, 235 pounds; an extrovert. Short boots accentuate his height; khaki trousers; red sports shirt; sun helmet. Dark-visaged; his lower lip curls when he chuckles; and though bald, his remaining hair is jet-black.
He is slavery's plantation overseer. Today, he rents Negro-driven mechanical cotton pickers to plantation owners. Those who know him say that he can handle Negroes better than anybody in the country.

Big Milam soldiered in the Patton manner. With a ninth-grade education, he was commissioned in battle by the 75th Division. He was an expert platoon leader, expert street fighter, expert in night patrol, expert with the "grease gun," with every device for close range killing. A German bullet tore clear through his chest; his body bears "multiple shrapnel wounds." Of his medals, he cherishes one: combat infantryman's badge.

Big Milam, like many soldiers, brought home his favorite gun: the .45 Colt automatic pistol.
"Best weapon the Army's got," he says. "Either for shootin' or sluggin'."
Two hours after Big Milam got the word -- the instant minute he could close the store -- he was looking for the Chicago Negro.

Big Milam reached Money a few minutes shy of 2 a.m., Sunday, August 28. The Bryants were asleep; the store was dark but for the all-night light. He rapped at the back door, and when Roy came, he said: "Let's go. Let's make that trip now."

Roy dressed, brought a gun: this one was a .45 Colt. Both men were and remained -- cold sober. Big Milam had drunk a beer at Minter City around 9; Roy had had nothing.
There was no moon as they drove to Preacher's house: 2.8 miles east of Money.
Preacher's house stands 50 feet right of the gravel road, with cedar and persimmon trees in the yard. Big Milam drove the pickup in under the trees. He was bareheaded, carrying a five-cell flashlight in his left hand, the .45 in the right.

Roy Bryant pounded on the door.
Preacher: "Who's that?"
Bryant: "Mr. Bryant from Money, Preacher."
Preacher: "All right, sir. Just a minute."
Preacher came out of the screened-in porch.
Bryant: "Preacher, you got a boy from Chicago here?"
Preacher: "Yessir."
Bryant: "I want to talk to him."
Preacher: "Yessir. I'll get him."

Preacher led them to a back bedroom where four youths were sleeping in two beds. In one was Bobo Till and Simeon Wright, Preacher's youngest son. Bryant had told Preacher to turn on the lights; Preacher had said they were out of order. So only the flashlight was used.

The visit was not a complete surprise. Preacher testified that he had heard of the "trouble," that he "sho' had" talked to his nephew about it. Bobo himself had been afraid; he had wanted to go home the day after the incident. The Negro girl in the party urged that he leave. "They'll kill him," she had warned. But Preacher's wife, Elizabeth Wright, had decided that the danger was being magnified; she had urged Bobo to "finish yo' visit."

"I thought they might say something to him, but I didn't think they'd kill a boy," Preacher said.
Big Milam shined the light in Bobo's face, said: "You the nigger who did the talking?"
"Yeah," Bobo replied.
Milam: "Don't say, 'Yeah' to me: I'll blow your head off. Get your clothes on."
Bobo had been sleeping in his shorts. He pulled on a shirt and trousers, then reached for his socks.
"Just the shoes," Milam hurried him.
"I don't wear shoes without socks," Bobo said: and he kept the gun-bearers waiting while he put on his socks, then a pair of canvas shoes with thick crepe soles.
Preacher and his wife tried two arguments in the boy's behalf.
"He ain't got good sense," Preacher begged. "He didn't know what he was doing. Don't take him."
"I'll pay you gentlemen for the damages," Elizabeth Wright said.
"You niggers go back to sleep," Milam replied.
They marched him into the yard, told him to get in the back of the pickup and lie down. He obeyed. They drove toward Money.

Elizabeth Wright rushed to the home of a white neighbor, who got up, looked around, but decided he could do nothing. Then, she and Preacher drove to the home of her brother, Crosby Smith, at Sumner; and Crosby Smith, on Sunday morning, went to the sheriff's office at Greenwood.
The other young Negroes stayed at Preacher's house until daylight, when Wheeler Parker telephoned his mother in Chicago, who in turn notified Bobo's mother, Mamie Bradley, 33, 6427 S. St. Lawrence.

Had there been any doubt as to the identity of the "Chicago boy who done the talking," Milam and Bryant would have stopped at the store for Carolyn to identify him. But there had been no denial. So they didn't stop at the store. At Money, they crossed the Tallahatchie River and drove west.
Their intention was to "just whip him... and scare some sense into him." And for this chore, Big Milam knew "the scariest place in the Delta." He had come upon it last year hunting wild geese. Over close to Rosedale, the Big River bends around under a bluff. "Brother, she's a 100-foot sheer drop, and she's a 100 feet deep after you hit."

Big Milam's idea was to stand him up there on that bluff, "whip" him with the .45, and then shine the light on down there toward that water and make him think you're gonna knock him in.
"Brother, if that won't scare the Chicago -------, hell won't."
Searching for this bluff, they drove close to 75 miles. Through Shellmound, Schlater, Doddsville, Ruleville, Cleveland to the intersection south of Rosedale. There they turned south on Mississippi No. 1, toward the entrance to Beulah Lake. They tried several dirt and gravel roads, drove along the levee. Finally, they gave up: in the darkness, Big Milam couldn't find his bluff.
They drove back to Milam's house at Glendora, and by now it was 5 a.m.. They had been driving nearly three hours, with Milam and Bryant in the cab and Bobo lying in the back.
At some point when the truck slowed down, why hadn't Bobo jumped and run? He wasn't tied; nobody was holding him. A partial answer is that those Chevrolet pickups have a wraparound rear window the size of a windshield. Bryant could watch him. But the real answer is the remarkable part of the story.

Bobo wasn't afraid of them! He was tough as they were. He didn't think they had the guts to kill him.
Milam: "We were never able to scare him. They had just filled him so full of that poison that he was hopeless."
Back of Milam's home is a tool house, with two rooms each about 12 feet square. They took him in there and began "whipping" him, first Milam then Bryant smashing him across the head with those .45's. Pistol-whipping: a court-martial offense in the Army... but MP's have been known to do it.... And Milam got information out of German prisoners this way.
But under these blows Bobo never hollered -- and he kept making the perfect speeches to insure martyrdom.
Bobo: "You bastards, I'm not afraid of you. I'm as good as you are. I've 'had' white women. My grandmother was a white woman."

Milam: "Well, what else could we do? He was hopeless. I'm no bully; I never hurt a nigger in my life. I like niggers -- in their place -- I know how to work 'em. But I just decided it was time a few people got put on notice. As long as I live and can do anything about it, niggers are gonna stay in their place. Niggers ain't gonna vote where I live. If they did, they'd control the government. They ain't gonna go to school with my kids. And when a nigger gets close to mentioning sex with a white woman, he's tired o' livin'. I'm likely to kill him. Me and my folks fought for this country, and we got some rights. I stood there in that shed and listened to that nigger throw that poison at me, and I just made up my mind. 'Chicago boy,' I said, 'I'm tired of 'em sending your kind down here to stir up trouble. Goddam you, I'm going to make an example of you -- just so everybody can know how me and my folks stand.'"

So Big Milam decided to act. He needed a weight. He tried to think of where he could get an anvil. Then he remembered a gin which had installed new equipment. He had seen two men lifting a discarded fan, a metal fan three feet high and circular, used in ginning cotton.
Bobo wasn't bleeding much. Pistol-whipping bruises more than it cuts. They ordered him back in the truck and headed west again. They passed through Doddsville, went into the Progressive Ginning Company. This gin is 3.4 miles east of Boyle: Boyle is two miles south of Cleveland. The road to this gin turns left off U.S. 61, after you cross the bayou bridge south of Boyle.
Milam: "When we got to that gin, it was daylight, and I was worried for the first time. Somebody might see us and accuse us of stealing the fan."
Bryant and Big Milam stood aside while Bobo loaded the fan. Weight: 74 pounds. The youth still thought they were bluffing.

They drove back to Glendora, then north toward Swan Lake and crossed the "new bridge" over the Tallahatchie. At the east end of this bridge, they turned right, along a dirt road which parallels the river. After about two miles, they crossed the property of L.W. Boyce, passing near his house.
About 1.5 miles southeast of the Boyce home is a lonely spot where Big Milam has hunted squirrels. The river bank is steep. The truck stopped 30 yards from the water.

Big Milam ordered Bobo to pick up the fan.
He staggered under its weight... carried it to the river bank. They stood silently... just hating one another.
Milam: "Take off your clothes."
Slowly, Bobo pulled off his shoes, his socks. He stood up, unbuttoned his shirt, dropped his pants, his shorts.
He stood there naked.
It was Sunday morning, a little before 7.
Milam: "You still as good as I am?"
Bobo: "Yeah."
Milam: "You still 'had' white women?"
Bobo: "Yeah."
That big .45 jumped in Big Milam's hand. The youth turned to catch that big, expanding bullet at his right ear. He dropped.
They barb-wired the gin fan to his neck, rolled him into 20 feet of water.
For three hours that morning, there was a fire in Big Milam's back yard: Bobo's crepe soled shoes were hard to burn.
Seventy-two hours later -- eight miles downstream -- boys were fishing. They saw feet sticking out of the water. Bobo.

The majority -- by no means all, but the majority -- of the white people in Mississippi 1) either approve Big Milam's action or else 2) they don't disapprove enough to risk giving their "enemies" the satisfaction of a conviction.