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A Lynching in the Heartland: Race and Memory in America

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I grew up in Richmond, Indiana, about an hour from the Marion, location of the lynchings. Because of my family's friendship with blacks and my mother's civil right's activity (in the 1960s), we sustained threats and physical abuse that necessitated police intervention. In Wayne County, of which Richmond is the county seat, apparently up to half of the white males were members of the KKK in the 1920s. Statewide, the Klan was as powerful as it was in any other state. The ugly history of Indiana racism deserves more attention, and Madison directs us to one especially compelling story.

Like many non-fiction books, the story is more interesting than the telling. Madison is a pedantic writer and the editing is mediocre. The author has an infuriating habit of engaging in unfounded speculation. For instance, he writes "Indeed, it may have been the Beitler photograph [of the lynchings] that so haunted Abel Meeropol and led him to write [the jazz song] 'Strange Fruit.'" And Meeropol may not have seen the photo, so why bother to speculate about the unknowable?

The lynch mob intended to murder three young men, but the youngest, James Cameron, was apparently spared because someone in the mob declared that he was innocent. Madison spends much time on Cameron, but his story comes off somewhat incoherent. In later life Cameron, who admitted his role in the killing that led to the lynchings, wrote a book and devoted himself to publicizing the incident. Madison notes in passing that Cameron fictionalized some events in his book, but he isn't inclined to challenge the eventual transformation of Camerson into something of a hero. As grizzly as the lynchings were, the victims-- if Cameron is to be believed -- were hardly saints. Madison dances gingerly around the issue of guilt, as if the lynchings could only be denounced if those hung were nice people. No doubt some of those lynched throughout the U.S. were guilty, but that doesn't lessen the abomination of the the mob response, and its indiscriminate spilling into further racial violence.

Mary Ball was a white woman who claimed to have been raped one or more of the three black men. Yet she was said to have been in a relationship with one of the three, and on good terms with the others. Madison does a poor job of nailing down the most likely explanation of what actually happened to Ball, if anything. He doesn't ask the obvious question: since James Cameron was there, why didn't he tell whether Mary was raped? If he did tell, why doesn't Madison tell us what Cameron said happened? It is as though Madison wants to use the fragments that enhance the undeniable horror of the lynchings, while ignoring details that cast the victims in a bad light. This may be good politics, but it is poor historical writing. Let's know the facts and let the chips fall where they might.

On balance, the book is worth reading, but with an eye to the loose ends Madison neglects to tie up.

It is a testament to America's transformation that Marion, and my town Richmond, have seen radical improvement in black-white relations. A friend of my family was a fireman who, like all black firemen in Richmond, was segregated at Station No. 2 into the 1960s (and long denied deserved promotions). He eventually retired as assistant chief and his daughter was elected president of the student body at Richmond High School. It still isn't uncommon to hear the word "nigger" spoken (by whites) in Richmond, but the town, Indiana, and America, have come a long way.

It's important to be aware of history, though.

Little was known on this topic before I bought the book - honestly the cover caught my attention first. The author starts out by telling the gripping and true tale of the lynching of 2 black teenagers in a small Indiana town in 1930. I live near this town and never ever heard of anything ever happening like this. History we are ashamed of apparently gets swept under the rug. This book opened my eyes to race-relations in Indiana and in the northern states during the early 20th's century. It really sets the stage for the Civil Rights acts that follow - and it's is wonderful to understand it from such a local perspective.
This book is not about "lynching". It is about injustice and mob-mentalities, as well as the history of race-relations in the U.S. - from the perspective of a small midwestern town. A town that many people would consider to be a typical place. The history written is non-fiction, although I wish in many ways it were fiction. I find it difficult to grasp that humans act the ways they do, and the author did a fabulous job of remaining objective and explaining the facts in a sleuth-like manner.

In August of 1930, a lynching took place. It would not be uncommon for one to assume that the lynching took place in the deep south, but in this instance, the assumption would be incorrect. The lynchings of Tom Shipp and Abe Smith took place in Marion, Indiana, America's Heartland. This event is responsible for one of the most famous photographs of an American lynching.

The author demonstrates how stereotypes and fear contributed to the lynching. The mere suggestion that a White woman was raped and a White man was murdered by three Black men, provided enough inspiration to turn a normally cordial, if not friendly, small town into a lynch mob. Madison outlines how a community dealt with the chilling reality that such mob violence had taken place in their small town. Because of shame, guilt and even fear, this tragic event was buried in Marion, Indiana's collective memory.

Flossie Bailey, a prominent African American woman in the community, as well as others, worked hard to mobilize the community in an attempt to make sure that at least some of the people involved in the murders would be held responsible for the crimes while fear kept other African Americans in the community quiet. Unfortunately, no one was held responsible for the crime.

Madison also highlights the history behind what is considered by many to be the most famous lynching photograph in American history. The photograph, taken by Lawrence Beitler the night of the lynching, has been reproduced and widely circulated. During the time immediately following the lynching, some people bought copies to serve as a "trophy", while others felt it was an abomination. It is a stirring photograph that depicts two dead men hanging from a tree while crowds of White's stand around some in their Sunday best, some pointing, and some chatting and laughing.

This book begins with a vivid and chilling description of the events leading up to the lynching, the lynching itself and the events that followed. The description of the scene was a result of the author's extensive research which included interviews, reviewing court documents, magazines, books and other historical archives. Although the author noted that his initial goal was to write an article about the event, he quickly learned that the story of this lynching was much bigger than what could be captured in an article. In addition to the actual description of the events surrounding the lynching, the author creates a historical context by providing a description of life for both African Americans and Whites during the era. He details the role that the NAACP and committed community leaders played in fighting for broader civil rights for African Americans.

He ends the book with a story of healing. On the night of the lynching, three men were in jail awaiting trial, yet only two of them were lynched. The third man, James Cameron's life was spared, and eventually Cameron began to share his story with the world. His goal in sharing the story was to promote racial healing and unity. This book touches on an area of American history that is often buried and rarely talked about. Through the author's research he is able to share a story that demonstrates just how far we as a Nation have come, and I highly recommend this book.

Reviewed by Stacey Seay

James H. Madison has provided us with a book about an incident that no one wants to know about - a bit of ugly history that we would rather not think, much less READ, about. A LYNCHING IN THE HEARTLAND: Race and Memory in America is a brilliant investigation and commentary on the heinous incident on August 7, 1930 in Marion, Indiana. On that quiet night in the quiet heartland of America, far removed from the South with its long-standing history of racial clashes, two African American men were snatched from the jail by white mob frenzy and hung from a tree for the 'dastardly deed' of murder and rape of a white couple. No trial, no conviction, just an acting out of racial hatred, an act captured in the most famous photograph of a lynching in the American context. Madison reports the events factually with a mesmerizingly accurate attention to detail. But the story does not stop there. Madison has researched the history prior to the incident and the subsequent followup that identified brilliant African American leaders and challengers, one of whom was the third man not lynched on that hideous evening in 1930 - James Cameron. Madison then reflects on the whole history of racism in this country, beginning with the equally offensive murders and tortures of the American Indians and extending down to extant incidences up to the time of the publication of this valuable, disturbing book.

Madison repeatedly makes the point that if we don't study our history and vividly recall our past then we are doomed to persist in unjust racial crimes. This is a tough book to swallow, but a very important one for all of us to read. Only by exposing ourselves to the ugly events of our history can we hope to learn and prevent such madness from recurring. An eloquent, vital, and impressive contribution.

Emotional is an understatment in reading this non-fiction account of a lynching in Marion, Indiana. All kinds of emotions come to mind as I read through it - anger, disbelief, sadness, shame. I think that much of it can be summed up by gazing at the front cover for awhile - the cover photograph is a timeless statement on race-relations in Indiana in the early 20th century.
This work reads like a gripping movie-script, a drama and detective story, where you find heroes abound by their courage to speak up against the actions of the mob who lynched 2 teen-agers on a summer night. But unfortunately this work is not fiction, it is true - from the accounts of what happened in the town the night the boys were suspected of killing a white teen and raping his girlfriend on lovers-lane, to the mob-mentality that eventually took the lives of these two boys. I live near the town where it happened, and I wish it weren't true.
The author did a superb job getting this early 20th century American history to read like something from one's imagination - he is truly gifted as a historical writer - as the words jump off the page as you read, gripping you, entangling you in the tragedy, and making emotions (ones that you probably don't like to express) - flood through you.

On August 7, 1930 a crowd of hundreds, possibly thousands swarmed around the Grant County Court House in Marion, Indiana with the intent to remove three black teenagers and kill them by hanging from the trees on the Court House lawn - a lynching. Two of the young men were lynched, the third was spared for reasons that no one seems to remember. The survivor claims it was a miracle that he was released and put back into the jail, and it may well have been so. Nevertheless, it may have mostly disappeared from America's collective memory except as an aberration from the stereotypical norm of lynchings being a mostly Southern phenomenon.

That is, it may have been forgotten except for the picture taken by a local photographer named Lawrence Beitler who printed off hundreds of copies and sold them to gawkers the next day. Those copies made their way across the state and eventually across the world to be reprinted in newspapers, magazines, textbook and even in movies. The Beitler print is the iconic photo of a lynching. Two young men hang dead while a crowd of onlookers gawk. An angry man points. A husband and his pregnant wife hold hands and smile as though a lynching were as much fun as the county fair. Old men and old women stand and stare - one old woman uses the occasion to people watch. The surreality is striking and disturbing.

James H. Madison's A Lynching in the Heartland: Race and Memory in the Heartland is more than a look at that one awful night. He puts it in context. He discusses lynching throughout the country, looks at the history of Grant County and its history of race relations and what he refers to as the ever-shifting "color line" - those unnamed rules of proper relations between blacks and whites in America as a whole and in Grant Country in particular.

Madison does not try to portray the victims of the lynch mob as martyred saints, nor does he demonize white Hoosiers. There are heroes and villains in the book, to be sure but they come as individuals, not in racial groups. This is not a case of the Ku Klux Klan rolling into town and killing two young man (the KKK was mostly disgraced and defunct in Marion after many statewide scandals despite having had a popular run a few years before). Nor is it the case of a consistently intolerant city just doing what came naturally. Madison shows us the frustrating nuances that make this a complicated piece of history.

Madison follows the city through the 1940s and into the Civil Rights era of the 50s, 60s and 70s to the turn of the 21st century. Real racial progress was made, in fits and starts. But, always looming in the background was the awful image of Beitler's photograph...

Truly a remarkably well-written and deftly handled history.

I just finished James Madison's book about race and memory in Indiana and heartily recommend it. I grew up in Indiana and though I was a couple generations removed from this 1930 event, my parents were not. My childhood experiences and those noted by Dr. Madison were indeed similar. "Knowing their place" was a phrase I heard repeatedly growing up in the midwest though I never quite understood it. This book finally explained the very complex "color lines" present both then and now in Hoosierland.

Aside from being right on when describing the mood and atmosphere of rural Indiana and small town America, I found Dr. Madison's description of the characters involved in this American tragedy poignant. I especially enjoyed reading about Flossie Baily, James Cameron and Oatess Archey. These are individuals whose efforts made a difference in their community and beyond.

While some may feel that issues of race are not front page news since 9/11, racial profiling and curtailment of rights and freedoms in the name of security and justice are. As always the way to understand the present is by studying the past and what better way to see the error of our ways than by listening to the voices of the black and white residents of Marion, Indiana?

This true story reads like fiction and the characters could easily carry this story to the big screen. It is an excellent book and should not be missed.

Years ago, when I was a married man living in Marion, Indiana, I recall my ex-wife muttering once about something having to do with a lynching that had taken place in Marion years ago. I never got any details, but it clearly disturbed her to talk about it.

A couple of weeks ago, while browsing the Internet, I ran across the picture of Abe Smith and Thomas Shipp, their bruised lifeless bodies hanging limp while a crowd of White men and women stand beneath smiling and appearing oh so proud and pleased at what they had accomplished.

And, then, it hit me. My ex-wife's mother's maiden name was Shipp.

We people of color, even now, in this generation, carry such heavy scars from the barbarism of so many brutal Whites. How should I explain to my son what probably happened to one of his ancestors?

I needed to know what happened, so I read Madison's book. Throughout this entire book, Madison writes as if the third young black man, James Cameron, who barely escaped a similar fate as Smith and Shipp, may have participated in the murder and may have raped Mary Ball. In all his research, Mr. Madison, a White Indiana University professor, doesn't seem to have been able to determine if Cameron was guilty or innocent, or even if Mary Ball had really been raped.

Next, I read "A Time of Terror", the eyewitness account of the third brother, James Cameron, who barely escaped from a similiar fate as Smith and Shipp. From Cameron, I found out that his innocence was beyond question. He was sent to jail by an all white (of course) Indiana jury, no surprise there. But, during the trial, Mary Ball admitted that she had never seen Cameron before and, furthermore, that she had not been raped.

The pertinent question, here, is why Madison, a White Indiana University professor, chose not to believe the accounts of the only two surviving eyewitnesses, Cameron and Ball?

Cameron and Ball are both dead now. And, Cameron's book is now out of print. I had to spend $75 to get a used paperback edition.

I have to wonder, if he had been alive in Marion, Indiana in the year 1930, would Madison, a White Indiana University professor, have been one of those godless people we see standing and smiling and looking so pleased as they admire the Strange Fruit hanging from the trees?

I felt that the treatment this author afforded the victim Mary Ball was akin to raping her all over again. He uses the term alleged in front of the crimes against her but does not employ the same qualifier before mention of the crimes committed against the male victim. The author repeats rumors that Miss Ball had loose morals and that (gasp) she sometimes didn't wear underwear! Obviously, if she dressed like that she had it coming, right? He did not, apparently, attempt to speak with anyone with a more favorable impression of Miss Ball in order to present a more balanced picture. Finally, at the end, he presents a touching picture of a reconcilliation between James Cameron and the murdered man's surviving brother but Mary Ball has disappeared from the author's work by this point. She has become an invisible woman. I for one would like to know how she felt at this point, to hear her words. Although the book had it's places the good professor has done a terrible thing to Mary Ball and for that he should be ashamed.