by John Hersey
38
A MOTHER SPEAKS
1. I Want Justice
The first time I talked to Mrs. Pollard, she told me her husband was still so upset that she was not living with him but had taken an apartment with her daughter, the youngest child, Thelma; her oldest son, Chaney, who had been brought back from Vietnam after the killing, was in a Naval hospital with a nervous breakdown; her second son, Auburey, was dead; her third son, Tanner, was in the Detroit House of Correction on a fifteen-day sentence for driving without a license; and her fourth son, Robert, was in prison for three years for stealing seven dollars from a newsboy.
“This broke up our whole house,” she said. “Everything fell apart all at once. Including my girl that would stick by me and love me, I couldn’t go nowhere, so nervous, so shocked. So the onlybody that’s holding up is me and my daughter; we the only two living together. And she couldn’t sleep at night without the lights on; she was scared in the other house, but she can sleep here with the lights off. Maybe my husband he might get well, he might come to hisself; he come to hisself, we might be back together, but as long as he ain’t hisself we can’t be together. They’ll wait till he do something out there, then they’ll pull him in the hospital, or put him in jail, one. So it’s just one of those things.
“My other boy, he’s having a nervous breakdown; he needs psychiatric treatment. Both of them. All three of them. Since Auburey died, they don’t have no good mind, they don’t have no good spirits, they don’t got no good mind about nothing.
“They got Tanner doing time. He’s in the House of Correction right now. For driving without a license. And I swear I know they can give the police some time because they did a murder. Tanner’s doing time, Robert’s doing time. Robert couldn’t even come home to the funeral. He didn’t kill nobody, but still this policeman walks the streets. See, Robert robbed a paperboy. He’s still doing time for that. They give him three years. Three years. And they ain’t give that police not a day; that’s what I can’t understand. If they give Robert three years, they sure and hell ought to do something with them. That’s the way I feel about it.
“I’m the onliest one, me and my daughter, that ain’t went to pieces. Somebody’s got to hold up. My husband, he’s a Navy man, and he stayed in World War II from it started till it ended. And when he went to that morgue and identified Auburey, he ain’t been right since.
“Mrs. Hudson, the Red Cross lady, I worried her so much she helped me to find Chaney. And I wrote his doctor a letter but I haven’t got no answer from it. And I wrote his commanding officer; I didn’t get no answer from it. Because he’s supposed to go back to Vietnam, but I really don’t want him to go back. In his state of mind he’d just as soon throw himself before a gun, one of them booby traps, or be nervous and blow up hisself and his crew with him. I don’t want him back. She say he’s in the best hospital out there in Oakland, California, but they haven’t notified me; they haven’t said nothing.
“The thing what hurt so bad, when we went to court, the judge was telling the polices how to talk. He was telling them how to talk. And he was throwing out those cases just like that. He throwed out Fred Temple’s killer, he throwed out Carl Cooper’s killer.” (No one was ever arrested for Cooper’s death.) “And he was telling the polices how to talk to keep themselves from indicting they self. And the only reason they got Auburey’s killer is because he made a confession of he killing Auburey. Then after he made the confession the old lawyer he had, he tried to say he shot Auburey one time because Auburey tried to kill him. So how could Auburey have been trying to kill him when he didn’t even have a gun or knife, when he was begging and pleading for his life, and if Auburey was trying to kill the man—this is what hurt so bad—the man was beating him over the head and his face so that he tore off his face and half his eye was hanging out his head, and when he tore up his face like that, and he was still hollering, with life in his body, he didn’t try to ease the pain none, and he was beating Auburey so bad and Auburey was trying to beg for his life, and Auburey said, ‘Oh, I’m sorry I broke your gun.’ He broke his own goddam gun on Auburey’s head! That’s a hurting feeling. And then after he broke his gun, he shot half his arm off. One of the detectives said that the shot was so close to that arm the powder burned. Till when he shot half his arm off it was enough to kill him, but he didn’t die then, he was still hollering and begging. And when he finished killing him he shot him all in the chest; that’s the way he killed him, and that’s what hurts. Because he was pleading and begging. The man had no sympathy for him. He said he was a white-woman lover; it’s not true. Those white girls say they never had nothing to do with Auburey. Them white girls said, ‘You know, Mrs. Pollard, we had our clothes on.’ They walked in there and called them nigger lovers, and they took their gun and cut the clothes off of them and beat their heads and called them nigger lovers and stripped them buck-naked before all them peoples up there to try to make them feel embarrassed.
“And then if it was on the level, you see, they could have told me they killed him. Only way I knowed was through Auburey’s friends that didn’t get killed, getting away, notified me to tell me he was dead.
“And then when the police take this trial, he say, ‘I only killed him cause he was trying to kill me.’ Wasn’t no way in the world somebody going to try to kill you, they ain’t got nothing in their arms and you got a machine gun and rifle and beating his brains out. They beat him so they beat all his face off. I hope that man have justice. I don’t care how he get it, if he don’t get justice somebody ought to lynch him, too; that’s the way I feel about it. He needs to die, too. Just little bit by little bit. Like Carl Cooper’s mother, I feel—they shot her son’s groins out down there, that’s how lowdown dirty they were. I guess they was saying, ‘All you old niggers done a little bit of time anyway, we going to kill you off.’ Here my son wasn’t even looting, wasn’t even after curfew hours, he just was in his own place what he was renting. And they walk in there and tear it up like that.
“You know what hurt me so bad again? Because they never was a white motel they could have, that the Negro police could come in and shoot it up like they did that Negro hotel, that they walk in out of the street and shoot a innocent guest like they did, and get turned loose. Tell me what would have happened if a Negro police had have walked into a all-white neighborhood and shot it up, like they shot up the Algiers Motel. They could not do it. Because I worked in private families all my life, and I never seen a Negro cop walk into a white home and say, ‘This is a search, stick your hands up, throw your hands behind your head.’ That’s the way they did. And this police is trying to say it was self-defense. I don’t want it to be self-defense! I can’t see it. I’m going to fight it. It can’t be self-defense.
“When he tore off half his face and knocked one of his eyes out he was blind-staggered then, he couldn’t have killed the police! Besides, then he had to put the bullets in him. I want to know, I want to know why they killed him like that. He had no feelings. He had no feelings! What kind of person is he? How can he live with hisself? I couldn’t do it. That’s the truth. I couldn’t do it.
“And all I want is justice done to this man. If they don’t give him justice, I wish there was some kind of way I could kill him like he killed my son; that’s the way I feel. And see what they would do to me if I killed him like he killed Auburey.
“I got a little boy, he got in some trouble out there, true enough. He went out there and robbed a paperboy. They didn’t lose no time to send him up for three years. And here this man done murder my son—he’s out on bond. He’s out on bond. How can he be out on bond? He done worse than my son did, because Robert didn’t cut this boy, he only got seven dollars off of him, he ain’t killed nobody, but here they done murder Auburey and torture him to death, and they going to get out on bond for five thousand dollars? And when we go out and kill each other we got to pay ten thousand dollars and can’t make no bond? And that—they call that justice?
; “Only thing I wish I could do is kill him. I tell you how I feel. I’d like to see him have the same death he gave my son—only just a little worser. And see how they would like it. And see what they would do to me. If I went up there right in the courtroom while they was having the trial and started in on him, I’ll be damned if they wouldn’t kill me right there.
“And how do we know he put up bond? They could say he put up bond. We ain’t seen him put up bond. All we know is he’s walking the streets free. They might have turned him loose the next day, and they got burst laughing about it. Honest to God, they was laughing in the courtroom about them getting set free.
“Now you know how I feel. I tell you about me. I feel bad about it. If I had my way I’d kill me one. I’d do the same torture they did to my son—don’t ask me to tell no lie—because every time I think about it, I be sick. That man beating him up so bad, here’s a man breaking his own gun on Auburey head, tore off half his face, Auburey so excited, Auburey thought maybe he could get the man off him, he say, ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, officer, I broke your gun.’ The man beating him so bad he break his own goddam gun on Auburey’s head, then have the nerve to shoot him and talk about self-defense. I want to know about that. If they turn him loose, they ought to turn every damn body in jail loose. Turn loose my son out there that did that little robbery. He didn’t kill nobody. Turn loose the one that was driving without a driving license, and that judge didn’t hesitate to send him away for fifteen days, put him in the House of Correction. And they didn’t hesitate to come in with that policeman and say they got to put up bond. Can you believe that?
“And that ugly lawyer sitting up there with his puny face there, he was lying like a dog, and I told him, ‘You lied, and you know you lied. Couldn’t be no self-defense. How in hell you going to defend that man? You trying to prove that’s self-defense and he done tore up his face and shot half his arm off before he killed him? It can’t be like that.’
“I want justice done so bad I can taste it. And I ain’t never had larceny in my heart, but I got it there now. I feel something should be done about it. And if I live, I’m going to stand up there and tell them about it. If they can send my baby off for robbery, robbed a paperboy of seven dollars, they had to give him three years, fifteen-thousand-dollar bond they had him on, he ain’t hurt nobody or shot nobody—here a man talking about sudden death just because he was wearing a damned uniform and killing for nothing and he got no defense, and he can be put out free! Let’s just talk about this thing. Let’s turn them all loose. Let’s turn them all loose! Then we won’t have to worry about it. Turn them loose, that’s the way I feel about it.
“So let’s all have a break; that’s the way I feel. Let something be done about it; that’s the way I feel. I don’t see how the son of a bitch can walk the goddam streets, and I don’t see how he can sleep at night, from the way Auburey died screaming. Something ought to be on his conscience. Something ought to be on his goddam conscience. It would be on mine, if I’d killed somebody’s child like that. Wouldn’t you? It would be on my conscience. Every time I think about it I get madder than hell. That’s the way I feel. And I’m going to tell the goddam judge how I feel, if you want to know the truth about it. I don’t give a damn. And I can say, ‘You don’t have to subpoena me to go to court, because I’m going to tell it any damn way if they turn that man loose.’ I’m going to say, ‘Don’t turn that man loose, because he ain’t got no business being free!’ If they let him get away with that death, there’ll be more death. There’ll be more kids killed that are innocent.
“To think that they shot that eighteen-year-old boy’s groins out before they killed him—the Cooper boy. Don’t you think his mother’s a hurt mother? She’s hurt! These things don’t wear off of us. They won’t wear off.
“But it hurts more for all of us to know that they call this justice. It can’t be. I give it to you straight. Write the book! Write it! Tell them how they killed them just because they seen them two white girls in there in the room. God damn, if they’d seen two Negro women up there with a white lover, they wouldn’t have said nothing, say, ‘Well, so-and-so-and-so-and-so.’ They’d just forget about it; wouldn’t have been nothing done about it. But they wasn’t even in the bed with them. I can’t see it. If they’d been in the bed with them, they’re human beings, you can’t stop them from going out there and turning tricks or doing what they want to do. The world wasn’t made in one day. They been doing it all the time. Any old rich ones that got money, they can mix it up, they can marry white mens, and colored mens are marrying white womens every day—if they got money, it don’t be at all. Look at Sammy Davis, Jr. He’s married to one. Look at Pearl Bailey. Look at there, they don’t say nothing about it. You can’t stop them from making love. If they want to love each other, that’s their business; they’re human beings. One’s better than the other one to them; everybody got to be their own choice. I got one son, yeah, he’s married to a white girl; she’s got babies for him. What do I care? They’re human beings. They can do what they want to do.
“Ever since the time he married that white girl and ever since they kill Auburey, they were set to put Tanner’s ass back in jail. Every week I been having trouble with them. Ever since he been married to this white girl—she got babies for him, true enough—they been kicking his ass back in jail, keeping me getting a lawyer for him, for every little thing they got him on. Now why don’t they get that policeman? He did a much bigger job. I’m going to tell that, too, in court. I’m going to tell it. I’m going to tell it if I have to drop dead and I have to pay a fine. I’m going to tell it! I’m going to see how they’re going to cut me off—I’m going to tell it. I want the world to know.”
39
THE NET IS THROWN AGAIN
1. Illegal Manner
Robert Paille had slipped out of the Prosecutor’s net; David Senak had never been in it. The reaction to the DeMascio decision, not only among the families of the young men who had been killed but in the black community at large, was open anger—distilled in Mrs. Pollard’s tirade to me. Prosecutor Cahalan and his staff decided that they must try to bring Paille and Senak to trial somehow, and if not for murder, then—following the pattern of the federal backstopping of the failure of local justice in Mississippi after the murders of the three civil-rights workers in 1964—for a conspiracy. The description the Prosecutor chose in this case was “a conspiracy to commit a legal act in an illegal manner.” In spite of the fact that Melvin Dismukes, the private guard, was already under indictment for Felonious Assault, the Prosecutor decided to throw the net over him, too; and it would be understood that Ronald August, though not charged here because he had been indicted for the more grievous crime of murder, had also been a co-conspirator.
On August 23, Dismukes, Paille, and Senak were arrested on this new charge.
2. Crime Wherever It Occurs
“It is always distressing,” Prosecutor Cahalan commented in a press release announcing the arrests, “to have to proceed against brethren in law enforcement. Not to do so, however, in the long run, damages its effectiveness. Unless we are able to show our willingness to proceed against crime wherever and whenever it occurs, we will not have the confidence of this community.
“I want to take this opportunity to stress very strongly that the action that I am taking against these few law enforcement officers cannot and should not be interpreted as detracting from the valiant, competent, and restrained action of the thousands of law enforcement officers who performed so well during the recent riot.”
40
SNIPERS: THE MYTH
1. Nationwide Plot?
Carl Cooper, Auburey Pollard, and Fred Temple were said by the police, in the first days after their deaths, to have been snipers killed in an open firefight. They died on what was long believed to have been the night of the Great Sniper Battle, involving 140 blocks in the heart of Detroit.
“Are Sniper Attacks Part of a Nationwide Plot?” a front-page banner head
line in the Detroit News asked two days after that supposed battle. The News article began, “Police and military officials trying to unravel the vicious pattern of deadly sniping that prolonged Detroit’s racial maelstrom say there already is strong evidence to suggest a national conspiracy.” A nameless “top law enforcement officer” was quoted as having said, “We are convinced that this sniping is very well organized. . . . From the information we have now, this sniper activity is part of the network of the Black Power movement. It’s divided into city groups that are called ‘bays’ and they roughly resemble Communist cells. Indications are now that a ‘lieutenant’ is in charge of the Detroit operation and higher authorities are located elsewhere.”
Police Commissioner Girardin told me some time after the uprising of the concern city officials had had during its course about possible purposive attacks on nerve centers of the city by RAM (Revolutionary Action Movement); and he catalogued other organizations, national and local, that had at one time or another been thought capable of mounting sniper and fire-bombing efforts: the Malcolm X Society, the Black Guard, the Northern Student Movement, the Black Panthers, Uhuru, the Afro-American Youth Movement, and others.
