A Time to Kill
"You niggers were not invited to this rally!" Stump
screamed into the microphone, pointing at the blacks. "This is a Klan meetin’, not a meetin’ for a buncha niggers!"
From the side streets and small alleys behind the rows of red brick buildings, a steady stream of blacks moved toward the courthouse. They joined the others, and in seconds Stump and.his boys were outnumbered ten to one. Ozzie radioed for backup.
"My name’s Stump Sisson," he said as he removed his mask. "And I’m proud to say I’m the Mississippi Imperial Wizard for the Invisible Empire of the Ku Klux Klan. I’m here to say that the law-abidin’ white folks of Mississippi are sick and tired of niggers stealin’, rapin’, killin’, and gettin’ by with it. We demand justice, and we demand that this Hailey nigger be convicted and his black ass sent to the gas chamber!"
"Free Carl Lee!" screamed one of the blacks.
"Free Carl Lee!" they repeated in unison.
"Free Carl Lee!"
"Shut up, you wild niggers!" Stump shrieked back. "Shut up, you animals!" His troops stood facing him, frozen, with their backs to the screaming crowd. Ozzie and six deputies moved between the groups.
"Free Carl Lee!"
"Free Carl Lee!"
Stump’s naturally colorful face had turned an even deeper red. His teeth nearly touched the microphones. "Shut up, you wild niggers! You had your rally yesterday and we didn’t disturb you. We have a right to assemble in peace, just like you do! Now, shut up!"
The chanting intensified. "Free Carl Lee! Free Carl Lee!"
"Where’s the sheriff? He’s supposed to keep law and order. Sheriff, do your job. Shut those niggers up so we can assemble in peace. Can’t you do your job, Sheriff? Can’t you control your own people? See, folks, that’s what you get when you elect niggers to public office."
The shouting continued and Stump stepped back from the microphones and watched the blacks. The photographers and TV crews spun in circles trying to record it all. No one noticed a small window on the third floor of the courthouse. It opened slowly, and from the darkness within a
wuuc mcuumo was tnrown onto the podium below. It landed perfectly at Stump’s feet and exploded, engulfing the wizard in dames.
The riot was on. Stump screamed and rolled wildly down the front steps. Three of his men shed their heavy robes and masks and attempted to cover him and smother the flames. The wooden podium and platform burned with the thick, unmistakable smell of gasoline. The blacks charged, wielding sticks and knives and hacking at anything with a white face or white robe. Under each white robe was a short black nightstick, and the Klansmen proved ready for the assault. Within seconds of the explosion, the front lawn of the Ford County Courthouse was a battlefield as men screamed and cursed and howled in pain through thick, heavy smoke. The air was filled with rocks and stones and nightsticks as the two groups brawled in hand-to-hand combat.
Bodies began falling on the lush, green grass. Ozzie fell first; the victim of a wicked smash to the base of his skull with a wrecking bar. Nesbit, Prather, Hastings, Pirtle, Tatum, and other deputies ran here and there attempting unsuccessfully to separate various combatants before they killed each other. Instead of running for cover, the vultures darted cra-zily through the midst of the smoke and violence valiantly trying to capture yet a better shot of the blood and gore. They were sitting ducks. One cameraman, his right eye buried deep in his camera, caught a jagged piece of brick with his left eye. He and his camera dropped quickly to the sidewalk, where, after a few seconds, another cameraman appeared and filmed his fallen comrade. A fearless, busy female reporter from a Memphis station charged into the melee with her microphone in hand and her cameraman at her heels. She dodged a brick, then maneuvered too close to a large Klansman who was just finishing off a couple of black teenagers, when, with a loud piercing scream, he slapped her pretty head with his nightstick, kicked her as she fell, then brutally attacked her cameraman.
Fresh troops from the Clanton City Police arrived. In the center of the battle, Nesbit, Prather, and Hastings came together, stood with their backs to each other, and began firing their Smith & Wesson .357 magnum service revolvers
into the air. The sound of the gunfire quelled the riot. The warriors froze and searched for the gunfire, then quickly separated and glared at each other. They retreated slowly to their own groups. The officers formed a dividing line between the blacks and the Klansmen, all of whom were thankful for the truce.
A dozen wounded bodies were unable to retreat. Ozzie sat dazed, rubbing his neck. The lady from Memphis was unconscious and bleeding profusely from the head. Several Klansmen, their white robes soiled and bloody, lay sprawled near the sidewalk. The fire continued to burn.
The sirens drew closer and finally the fire trucks and ambulances arrived and drove onto the battlefield. Firemen and medics attended the wounded. None were dead. Stump Sisson was taken away first. Ozzie was half dragged and half carried to a patrol car. More police arrived and broke up the crowd.
Jake, Harry Rex, and Ellen ate a lukewarm pizza and watched intently as the small television in the conference room broadcasted the day’s events in Clanton, Mississippi. CBS ran the story halfway through the news. The reporter had apparently escaped the riot unscathed, and he narrated the video with a play by play of the march, the shouting, the firebomb, and the melee. "As of late this afternoon," he reported, "the exact number of casualties is unknown. The most serious injuries are believed to be the extensive burns suffered by a Mr. Sisson, who identified himself as an imperial wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. He is listed in serious condition at the Mid South Burn Hospital in Memphis."
The video showed a closeup of Stump burning while all hell broke loose. He continued: "The trial of Carl Lee Hai-ley is scheduled to start Monday here in Clanton. It is unknown at this time what effect, if any, today’s riot will have on this trial. There is some speculation the trial will be postponed and/or moved to another county."
"That’s news to me," said Jake.
"You haven’t heard anything?" asked Harry Rex.
"Not a word. And I presume I would be notified before CBS."
The reporter disappeared and Dan Rather said he would return in a moment.
"What does this mean?" asked Ellen.
"It means Noose is stupid for not changing venue."
"Be glad he didn’t," said Harry Rex. "It’ll give you something to argue on appeal."
"Thanks, Harry Rex. I appreciate your confidence in my ability as a trial lawyer."
The phone rang. Harry Rex grabbed it and said hello to Carla. He handed it to Jake. "It’s your wife. Can we listen?"
"No! Go get another pizza. Hello dear."
"Jake, are you all right?"
"Of course I’m all right."
"I just saw it on the news. It’s awful. Where were you?"
"I was wearing one of those white robes."
"Jake, please. This is not funny."
"I was in Jean Gillespie’s office on the second floor. We had wonderful seats. Saw the whole thing. It was very exciting."
"Who are those people?"
"Same ones who burned the cross in our front yard and tried to blow up the house."
"Where are they from?"
"Everywhere. Five are in the hospital and their addresses are scattered all over the state. One is a local boy. How’s Hanna?"
"She’s fine. She wants to come home. Will the trial be postponed?"