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Letter protesting conditions in which the 9 Black defendants in the “Scottsboro Boys” case were being imprisoned, 12/8/1936. 

Despite 2 SCOTUS reversals and pending a new trial, they were being held "as if they were already sentenced."

Series: Subject Files, 1933 - 1945

Collection: President's Secretary's File (Franklin D. Roosevelt Administration), 1933 - 1945

Transcription:

COPY

BROADWAY TABERNACLE CHURCH

December 8, 1936

His Excellency

The Governor of Alabama

Montgomery, Alabama

My dear Governor Graves:

There is grave danger that the record in the case of the Scottsboro boys will soon contain a further stain which will not be easy to wash out in the years ahead. It is caused by the manner in which they have been held in jail for the last nine months. Whatever the reasons for it, the fact remains that nine boys (eight of them still awaiting trial, and the other with his case still on appeal) are kept in close confinement with no opportunity for exercise so that they are suffering in a way they can no longer endure mentally or physically. Dr. Henry M. Edmonds, Chairman of the Alabama Committee, with whom I have just talked on the long distance phone, spoke in the gravest of tones about the marked effect upon one of the boys whom he had just seen.

For five and one half years they have been in jail, treated as if they were already sentenced, and the last nine months have been in what amounts to almost solitary confinement. The Sheriff presents as his reason for doing nothing about this that no other procedure is open to him than to keep them in this type of confinement. He says that when prisoners of their prominence are allowed to mix with other prisoners there is difficulty. He brings up instances from the past where they have had trouble with the boys. He feels that in any jail to which they were sent, the same treatment would have to be given them, altho it has not been considered necessary in the first five years.

We recognize, of course, that there are difficulties involved, but they will not excuse the fact, when the record is complete, that such treatment has probably driven several of them already into such mental decline and physical disintegration (sometimes called a prison psychosis) that they are virtually executed without fair trial, and that a continuation of this method of confinement may result in this practical execution happening to them all.

Intentionally or otherwise, the confinement to which the boys have been subjected for the last nine months, can have but one result: to break them down physically and mentally so that in desperation they may make a false confession. It is well known that such confinement is often as effective as a "third degree."

[page 2]

Governor Graves -- 2

I am willing to give the authorities from yourself down credit for not intending this result to occur. The record shows clearly, however, that it is happening, and the record from now on will show whether anything was done to prevent this development from continuing after it was brought officially to your attention.

It is not reasonable for anyone to argue, as some do, that the boys are proven guilty. Technically this is not so. Practically, when one looks at the history of the case, it is morally indefensible to assert it. There have been two reversals by the Supreme Court and in the other trial a new trial was granted by Judge Horton in a carefully worked out opinion in which he grants the motion that the conviction he set aside as against the weight of the evidence, in the following words:

"The testimony of the prosecutrix in this case is not only uncorroborated, but it also bears on its face indications of improbability and is contradicted by other evidence, and in addition thereto the evidence greatly preponderates in favor of the defendant. It therefore become the duty of the Court under the law to grant the motion made in this case.

"It is therefore ordered and adjuged by the Court that the motion be granted; that the verdict of the jury in this case and the motion of the court sentencing this defendant to death be, and the same is hereby set aside and that a new trial be and the same is hereby ordered."

If it should be proven, as we who are defending the boys believe we can prove, that the boys are not guilty of the crime as alleged, and yet at the end it is a fact that the state has so acted toward these boys that they are virtually executed by a jail confinement humanly impossible to endure, the case will be a lasting reproach to all who are involved.

The sickness of the judge in the case has postponed the trial again. The case is dragging into six years. A reasonable request, backed by the support of a representative and responsible group of Alabama citizens comprising the Alabama Scottsboro Committee, including lawyers of high distinction, that a change of venue be granted for the next trials has so far been denied, altho there are procedures open to the authorities to grant this motion which, under the circumstances, is essential to a fair trial being held in the next appearance of the case.

We feel that we could properly be considered derelict in our duty if we did not bring this matter strongly before you. We shall allow a reasonable time for a positive reply. We are, however, prepared to carry the matter much further. There are channels on influence on responsible public opinion open to members of

[page 3]

Governor Graves -- 3

the committee. These we shall use with all diligence. We

have become conscious thru recent reports that we may already

have delayed too long in making an emphatic public protest

against a situation which, however anyone may try to justify

it is in practice inhumane.

I shall hope for a favorable reply to this letter which comes

to you as the official action of the Scottsboro Defense Committee

and with the knowledge and consent of the Alabama Committee.

                                                             Very sincerely

                                                             ALLAN KNIGHT CHALMERS

                                                             Chairman, Scottsboro Defense Committee.

[the-fae-folk]

Infinite Circumlocution

“It’s been three weeks! And they’re still ‘discussing’ whether or not we can even go!” Andy was obviously frustrated, and Oliver didn’t really blame him. Sometimes it seemed like the giants weren’t even talking about the same thing. One was always rambling on about the consequences of seven in excessively large numbers such as one quadrillion, two hundred eighty-nine trillion, three hundred seventy-two billion, eight hundred seventy-three million, two hundred eighty-three thousand, two hundred and eighty-seven. What those consequences were, Oliver still wasn’t exactly sure. Nor could he figure out how that related to the question they were discussing, but all the other giants had nodded thoughtfully as if they understood and were considering its implications. During the wait another giant had showed up and brought with him another set of smaller fae. Oliver had almost laughed aloud when he’d discovered that their names were Riona and Brin. He’d pointed this out to Bran, who delighted in sitting on his shoulder and ruffling his black feathers or commenting dryly on any conversation that was going on. The crow had laughed, but cautioned him from mentioning it to any of the fae. His answer to Oliver’s question of ‘Why?’ was frustrating. “The Fae have this thing about names. They are very proud of them and think they’re very important. I could be wrong, but it’s better to not risk their displeasure by comparing their names to someone else’s. It might upset them.” Personally, Oliver couldn’t help but think that maybe a bit of upsetting was really what the people needed around here if all they were going to do was argue instead of actually doing something. But he refrained from saying anything about the names to anyone. Bran, it turned out, already knew both Brin and Riona. The crow recounted their adventure out on the Flowered Oceans and how they were separated after they went over the falls. Andy ended up asking a lot of questions about Faerie’s oceans and the places where it bordered on the Human world. Oliver tuned them out when the topic swung back around to whether or not the giants would be finished deciding soon. Anyone could see that they had no intention of hurrying. With a sigh he stood up and walked out along the edge of the pavilion that had been provided for them on the island in the center of the circle of Giants. The structure contained large open areas with cushions and low tables, an enclosed tent like room with bedrolls and hammocks for sleeping, another enclosed room with large copper tubs for bathing, and even a sort pantry with all kinds of food. There was everything from herbs and fresh vegetables to boxes of mac & cheese. Someone had even included a basket of fresh avocados, and Oliver was sure that whoever was responsible for this set up was at least passingly familiar with memes because the basket had been labeled with “Fre sha vaca do” and there was no way that one was a misunderstanding. As he left the cover of the pavilion he heard the sound of wings and felt Bran alight on his shoulder. In a companionable silence they made their way out to the edge of the island and looked upon the blood red waters that churned below them. The voices of the giants could be heard like the rumbling of thunder, it was loud enough to echo through you and make you tremble, yet deep and gentle enough to be calming. If you wanted to hear what exactly they were saying you had to listen hard, it wasn’t enough just to passively hear their voices, because more often than not you simply forgot that it wasn’t thunder you were hearing. “Any live cell with fewer than two live neighbors dies. Any live cell with two or three live neighbors lives on. Any live cell with more than three live neighbors dies. Any dead cell with exactly three live neighbors becomes a live cell.” One of the Giants had begun explaining something to the others. Oliver had heard this one speaking a number of times, this time they seemed to be going on about some kind of grid with cells that changed according to whatever the ones next to them were doing. But he’d heard the giant using other systems or rules to make a point to the others, usually involving a large number of steps that they described in detail that eventually led to a solution. It was one of the most complicated things Oliver had ever heard, and that was including the arguments of the giant who only seemed to talk about things like syntactic structure, inflections, grammatical categories, grammaticalization, and irregular plural nouns (Oliver had gotten the idea that it was talking about words and languages and how they were supposed to work), or the giant who always seemed to be bringing up the names of all kinds of people and places and questioning whether they should be called by this name or that name, and whether a name still belonged to them (or if they belonged to the name), and all the possible ways that could be relevant to the situation. Out of all of them, it was this last giant that seemed like they were the most on topic of the lot. Still, thought Oliver glumly, it wasn’t exactly a high bar. He was pretty sure even a single giant could easily trump every human philosopher or scientist or logician there ever was, they were more knowledgeable than anyone he’d ever met, and yet they seemed more interested in discussing their own interests and obsessions than actually using any of their knowledge to actually come to a solution.

“What if we just left? If we all just went now on foot we’d probably find Ardri and Sam way before these guys come up with a plan. If they ever do.” Bran cocked his head and looked at him, thinking. “Well,” the crow said slowly. “I don’t think they’d actually let us leave. They’re a lot more observant than they seem, and they’d definitely get angry if we just did what we wanted instead of waiting for them to decide the right course of action. But... you have a point about how long they’re taking. I don’t see what we can do about it though.” Oliver lay back against the mossy rocks with a sigh of resignation. He might as well relax as best as he could if they weren’t going anywhere for a while.

[rainingmusic]

Natalie Imbruglia - Leave Me Alone

[the-fae-folk]

The Meeting of Giants

When Bran had gone with the fabled Rienna of the Grove, the Faerie hero from the ancient wars that he’d freed from a prison of ice, he had been expecting some triumphant return or a daring ride into battle to drive back the enemy.

In no way had he been expecting them to end up arguing with Giants about the best course of action. They’d come to the place where the colossal Faerie creatures met whenever they woke, because Rienna had said that if any were not sleeping, they might be called upon for aid. Instead of simply one Giant, they found all of them. Faerie was vast, perhaps even eternal, and yet there were only 17 Giants in existence. To call them giant was not enough to truly describe them. Big enough to sit among mountains and still have their heads rise above the peaks. Yet they were not like many human stories that concerned giants. They were not ugly or foolish, they did not keep gold laying geese nor mystic harps that played music of their own accord, they did not waylay travelers or eat unsuspecting children. No, the giants were as beautiful as any Lord or Lady of Faerie. Elegant and dreamlike, as if the very land had claimed them as its own, as part of the horizon’s beauty, not to be questioned by mortal conceptions of appearance. And their thoughts were strange to most Folk, they were concerned with only that which was as all encompassing and great as they, and could hardly conceive of anything lesser or more mundane. Some spent eons calculating numbers of inconceivable sizes, reaching for ever higher infinities. Others thought of eternity and immortality, or of Love and even Death. To them the world was merely history, a sweeping array of great deeds and cruelties, of rulers and crowns, of triumphs and defeats. The place where they met was a sea of blood red waters that glowed softly from below, and surrounding the sea were a chain of mountains that had been carved to make them a ring of thrones they could rest upon as they spoke. In the center of the sea, floating high in the air above the waves, there was an island of stone. Those who wished to speak to the Giants could stand upon the windswept grass of that lonely isle and say what what they wished. It was not certain that the Giants would ever truly understand what even other Faeries spoke of, but they would listen carefully just the same, and ponder it with the very same seriousness as they did all things. For four days they’d been here and Rienna had discovered that while the Giants agreed that the events happening were important enough for their attention, they did not necessarily agree on what must be done. Rienna wanted to drive the armies that ravaged Faerie’s wonders back into their prisons, or better yet into another world entirely. If they could not be saved, and could not be killed, then they should be cast out so that no others were hurt by them. Surprisingly, the Giants disagreed. They spoke long and often of cycles that repeated, wounds that did not heal for millennia. How to end the destruction without causing it to come again in the future? They weren’t the only ones who had come to speak with the Giants. A small group was there as well. Three humans and an old, powerful Fae who Bran learned was the King of Summer. When he spoke with the humans he discovered that they knew Ardri, and two had come from the Human world with him. The other human was the one he’d traveled with for a time, who had taken the form of a heron, and had given him the lantern. He learned her name was Ellie, and that she bore the Crown of Summer. The other two humans were Oliver and Andy. In truth they had come to ask the Giant’s aid in getting quickly to where Ardri was sure to be waiting for them, but they too had found that the Giants were unwilling to simply bear them forth without discussing at length whether it was for the good of all if they were to rejoin Ardri or if their path to save Faerie lay elsewhere.

[the-fae-folk]

Waiting and Worry

“We’re wasting time! Where can they be?” Nod the Satyr and the Lord of Autumn watched impassively as Ardri paced back and forth in the nearly empty meeting hall. There were still one or two minor city officials who remained in their seats, but most of those who hadn’t been captured in the initial attack on the city were out seeing to its ongoing survival and defense. Sam had claimed one of the seats reserved for the city lords as his own and no one dared to tell him no after catching sight of Ardri’s warning look. It had been several days and still the others hadn’t arrived. Oliver, Andy, Ellie, and the King hadn’t been seen anywhere, nor the ship they were supposed to have come on. The Lord of Autumn had suggested they send a message to the giants to inquire to their whereabouts, while attempting to dissuade Ardri from heading back himself. “The very reason you came this way was due to the need for haste. You must go forward, not back.” Ardri agreed reluctantly, though he still didn’t like the idea of leaving until the others arrived and he knew they were safe.The wilds of Faerie weren’t safe, but they hadn’t been going far, and they had the King and Ellie with them, they should have been well protected. In the end it was decided that Ardri and Sam would stay for a few more days, attend a feast the citizens were putting on in honor of their “savior”, and then begin the journey to find the Winter Court. In the meantime, someone would be sent to find what had become of Ardri’s human friends, the King of Summer, and the bearer of the Crown of Summer. As he was leaving, Ardri remembered Sam’s questions about the crowns and stopped to speak quietly with Nod. “Do you know the origin of the first three crown in the cycle? Star, Moon, and Sun? Or can anything be found of their history?” The Satyr paused, thinking. “There is a ballad, or so I’ve heard. Sadly, I do not know the tale myself, but I will see if any can be found that does know it.”

[the-fae-folk]

The Fallen City

It was beyond the sea with black waves that they found the Autumn Court waiting for them. In the ruins of a massive city still smoking and crumbling. The Phoenix landed and faeries scrambled out of their way, staring with unabashed curiosity as Ardi slid from the bird’s back and turned to help Sam climb down. They were met by Nod the Saytr, who greeted Ardri with much joy and embraced him. Though really it had been only a short time since they’d parted, Ardri felt that Nod was somehow much older, his eyes sad, his shoulders drooped beneath a greater weight. “And who is this?” asked Nod, turning to Sam with interest. “A servant? Perhaps a toy?” Ardri felt himself stiffen. Perhaps once before he might have found such a question ordinary, normal even. But now... he’d seen how the humans lived. Their wonders, their questions, their hopes, their fears. He’d met Oliver, Andy, and of course, Sam. And there had been others too, others with lives that they deserved to live, lives that didn’t touch upon Faerie. “No, he is my friend, my companion, and is very dear to me though I have only known him a short while. I have sworn an oath that I will do what I can to protect him and those others who came with him to our world.” He met Nod’s eyes and the Satyr looked stunned for a moment before he was bowing and smiling, both to Ardri and to Sam. “My apologies, I meant no offense to you or your friend. If you are hungry we might offer food and drink, as well as baths to wash away the dust of your travels. Then, the Lord wishes to meet with you again. He wishes to bring you to the one who bears the Crown of Autumn,” he paused to glance at Sam. “Another human.” Ardri nodded, there was no point in getting angry. Many of the Folk viewed humans as lesser, as merely toys or insects. It was a common enough view. “Both, I think, would be welcome. And set someone to watch for sky ships, we have more friends that are some ways behind us.” This was accomplished in a very short time as Nod called over a guard, a Dryad who smiled kindly down at Ardri and Sam through the tangled weave of her dark green hair. Once she’d heard what they wanted, she agreed pleasantly and ordered two more guards, clearly she was a captain of some kind, to fulfill the duty. This finished, Nod led Sam and Ardri off through the city till they reached areas which were largely untouched. Clearly the dark armies simply hadn’t cared enough to raze everything to the ground, only targeting the palace and the richest public areas. Residents had opened their doors to the refugees and offered them food and clothing and shelter, despite the state of their city and the disappearance of their Emperor and Empress. Sam and Ardri found themselves being bustled into the home of an incredibly fat and grandfatherly elf, who immediately took to Sam and began chatting amiably with him about the Human world and people and places he’d met there. Food was provided, safe enough for Sam to eat even here in Faerie, and Ardri forced himself to relax. He’d hoped to feel safer, more at ease. He once had felt that way among the Autumn Court. But it was as if seeing how dangerous the Faerie world could be for humans had opened his eyes to how dangerous and cruel it could be even to the Folk. Smiling and nodding along to the conversation, he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting every so often to the slowly darkening sky outside the windows.