DAVID WATERS

David Waters: Descendants of 1917 lynching's 2 victims gather for truth, healing

David Waters
Memphis Commercial Appeal
John Ashworth and Randall Mullins (right), two of the local leaders of the Memphis Lynching Sites Project, look a new exhibit for the first time at the Pink Palace detailing the 1917 lynching of Ell Persons.

Descendants of both victims — the black man who was lynched and the white girl he was falsely accused of murdering — plan to be here for Sunday's prayer service.

The two women, one from Chicago, the other from Memphis, plan to go down to the river, rain or shine, to stand and pray with hundreds of others near the site of both brutal murders.

Even if it does rain Sunday afternoon, it can't rain hard enough or long enough to wash away the sins committed against both victims and families here in 1917.

The ghastly lynching of Ell Persons, a 50-something black man who was burned alive and mutilated on the banks of the Wolf River as thousands watched and cheered.

The gruesome murder of Antonetty Rappel, a 16-year-old white girl whose decapitated body was found near the same bank three weeks before the lynching.

The racist, lawless rush to judgment that allowed all of the killers to go free.

The ignorance, hate and fear that can and does afflict an entire community.

"We have to acknowledge and address the pain before we can begin to heal," said Laura Wilfong Miller. Her great-grandmother and Antonetty Rappel's mother were sisters.

Michele Lisa Whitney agrees. Her great-grandfather and Ell Persons were brothers.

"There were two tragedies," she said. "My great-uncle didn't get justice. Neither did that young lady. The only way to get through it is to face it, literally stare it in the face."

No one alive today can atone for the sins of 1917. Those of us who are here can only seek atonement for their legacy of fear, anger, hatred and violence.

That's the point of Sunday's prayerful commemoration of the 100th anniversary of the Persons lynching.

"We will gather in a spirit of love, prayer, repentance, and healing," said Rev. Randall Mullins, a leader of the Memphis Lynching Sites Project.

"We want to make a strong statement together as the Memphis community. We know that facing up to the horrors of racial violence in our history is essential to the health of our community."

The prayer service will be held along the Wolf River near Summer Avenue, close to the site of both murders. It will begin at 3 p.m., about the time a lynch mob began forming on Monday, May 21, 1917.

That was hours before Persons was abducted from police custody, 18 hours before he was lynched the following morning.

Newspapers announced the lynching's time and location, and covered it like a sporting event.

Mothers and fathers took their children out of school and brought them to the river bank to watch.

Vendors sold sandwiches and snacks while the growing crowd watched and waited.

"This was a 'spectacle lynching,' which served as a form of entertainment," said Margaret Vandiver, a University of Memphis professor who chronicled the Persons's lynching in her book, "Lethal Punishment: Lynching and Legal Executions in the South."

"This collective celebration of the planned and premeditated torture and burning of a helpless captive marks a, perhaps the, low point of our local history."

Sunday's commemoration will include the dedication of two new historical markers.

Before the prayer service, Students Uniting Memphis from Overton High School, who researched the lynching, and members of the Shelby County Historical Commission will dedicate a marker at 5404 Summer.

A second marker will be dedicated early in the prayer service. It will be placed in a temporary location until the Wolf River Conservancy completes a leg of its river trail near the actual lynching site. 

The second marker is a joint effort of the NAACP of Memphis — which was formed in June 1917 as a result of the lynching — the National Park Service and the Lynching Sites Project.

The Lynching Sites Project is a faith-based group working to locate and memorialize the site of every post-Civil War lynching in Shelby County.

"American culture and history shaped the practice of lynching, but it is also true that lynching has shaped our modern culture and continues to do so," Vandiver said. 

Whitney, who was born and raised in Chicago, knew her grandmother had moved there from Crittenden County, Arkansas, when her father was little.

She didn't know her grandmother's uncle had been lynched until a member of the Lynching Sites Project called her a few weeks ago.

"As an African-American, I know about the legacy of lynchings," Whitney said, "but when I read the full story of what happened to my great-uncle, the horror of it, how he must have suffered, I went through all the stages of grief.

"Denial. I couldn't believe it actually happened to someone in my family. Anger that he didn't get a fair trial and that the young lady didn't get justice. Depression that we're still dealing with this tragic legacy."

Miller, who was born and raised in Memphis, has known about the grim chapter in her family's history since she was a child.

Her grandmother, Rappel's cousin, had given her some of the items Rappel was carrying in her bike basket on her way to school the morning she was killed.

The items, including several school books and papers and the basket itself, are part of a new exhibit about the 1917 lynching at the Pink Palace through August.

"I used to imagine what Antonetty looked like, riding her bike to school near our family's old dairy farm," Miller said, "but I couldn't imagine what happened. 

"It was so unbelievable I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I can't imagine what her mother must have gone through. I also can't imagine the mob mentality and hysteria that resulted and that people were OK with that."

Both women believe Sunday's commemoration is needed. Both want to participate.

"When I think about what happened then," Whitney said, "and I look at my life now, the opportunities and choices I'm able to make, I'm grateful for the struggle and sacrifices my ancestors made for me."

Miller wants to be there for her nine-year-old daughter. "We talk about race and equality and justice," Miller said.

"No one got justice then. We need to talk about that, acknowledge and understand that, so we can work to repair the damage and make sure it doesn't happen again."