Finding Eliza

by Stephanie Pitcher Fishman

  “Allie, there isn’t anything that we can do other than give her time. She might be ready to talk in the morning.”

  “We’ve been saying that for days, Anne. There’s nothing I can do about what happened, but I can make sure that she doesn’t feel alone. She was all alone out there, don’t you understand that? I found her all alone in that cemetery with his body. They left her there like an animal.” Alston walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, he held his head in his hands and the tears flowed. It may not have been a typical reaction for a man, he thought, but he couldn’t hold it back. His life felt like it was falling apart.

  “We should call the police again, Allie. They have to listen.”

  “They don’t care. They won’t do anything. There are too many people involved. We have to protect her. If she doesn’t make waves, perhaps they will leave her alone. We just have to protect her and pray that they don’t come back for her a second time.”

  Alston realized that he was the only thing standing between Eliza and those who attacked her. What if they decided to come after his sister again? What if they came after Anne? He reached toward his wife and held her face in his hand.

  Anne laid her head in her husband’s lap. “I keep thinking of the family that Eldridge left behind. It’s so sad. Their hearts are breaking, and yet we can’t grieve together.”

  “I can’t get his face out of my mind. He was so young.” Alston leaned over and buried his face in the side of his wife’s head, feeling her hair cover his eyes. “I had to leave him, Anne. I had to. I had no other choice. I couldn’t carry them both. I caused this.”

  “Alston James. Stop those thoughts. You did what you could, and you called his folks. Not many in this town would have done that. You didn’t do it to him. All you could do was try to protect Eliza. No one will fault you for that.”

  Anne took a seat near her husband. She wound her arms around his as they sat at the end of the bed. The pair sat in silence. Alston wanted to become invisible and quiet. He had to protect his family, and if that meant becoming someone that no one noticed he would do it. He needed to do what would cause Eliza the least amount of distress and harm as she recovered. She had to be his first thought.

  Anne leaned into his shoulder and started crying quiet tears. Alston cradled her into his arms as she emptied herself of the tears she had carried after days of tending to Eliza’s wounds.

  “We could leave, Allie. We could pack her up and go to South Carolina. I’ve got people there. You could find another position at a school, or we could farm. We could do anything. I just want to get out of this town, Allie. I want to be away from this place.”

  Alston looked at his wife’s tearful eyes. Her bright blue eyes shined red and bloodshot. He brushed the hair from in front of her forehead and eyes as he wondered how long it had been since she had slept more than a few minutes. He knew that Anne was exhausted.

  “Anne, we can’t let them run us out of this town. I will keep you safe, and I will protect Eliza, even if it means keeping quiet.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After another long night with little sleep, Lizzie felt like she was stumbling through the morning. Her thoughts felt hazy and slow. The evening’s discussion with Jack was heavy on her heart. He may have been right. Maybe there wasn’t anything that she could do, but she wasn’t going to let it go without trying. Murder was still murder. She had seen so many cases on the national news that centered on the same type of scenario: old crime gets solved and people go to jail.

  After a quick stop by the local coffee shop, Lizzie met Gertrude and the gals at the local library. Her grandmother explained that it would be best to start with the local newspaper. Lizzie was anxious to see what they wrote about the incident. Gertrude warned her that they would most likely ignore Eldridge’s lynching.

  “It may need a bit of creative searching,” her grandmother reminded her during their morning phone conversation. Lizzie was ready to spend as long as it took to find out the truth. Gertrude was willing to research as long as Lizzie wanted.

  Lizzie met the four smiling women at the library, passing around cups of coffee for everyone.

  “Nectar of the gods,” slurred Blue as she drank the dark chocolate mocha she had requested.

  They settled their belongings at the long table in the research room, each making sure the lid to her drink was secure and away from any of the library’s materials. Claud made sure to point out the sign showing that they were allowed to have drinks at the tables only.

  “Don’t be so stuffy, dear. We know the rules,” Blue said. “Of course, I never was fond of rules.” She winked at Lizzie.

  “It’s time to introduce you to the microfilm readers. Be prepared to feel like you can’t go any further. Once you get to that point, your record will be just around the corner,” Abi said as she patted Lizzie around the shoulder. “Let the games begin!”

  The women loved having Lizzie in their element. The foursome shuffled her through the library, showing her where to find the microfilm that might contain her records. Lizzie had no trouble narrowing down when the article may have been in the newspaper, thanks to the diary. Lizzie pulled three rolls of film from the metal cabinet covering the correct time period.

  The women each pulled up a chair around the microfilm machine and began to show Lizzie the proper procedures in using the reader. Each genealogist had her own tips.

  “Start at the beginning of the roll,” one said.

  “Read all of the entries for the week,” said another.

  They whizzed through the first roll showing Lizzie how to load and advance the film. The researchers turned the spools, slowly making their way through the old newspapers. Lizzie enjoyed the vintage ads and community reports listed on each roll. The information provided gave her an insight to the life her family lived during that time. It surprised her how interesting she found it all. Every so often, Lizzie would see a mention of her family name, usually the society pages that shared church rosters. The first two rolls didn’t afford much insight into their mystery, but the final roll hit like pay dirt. The group of genealogists squealed when they located one mention of a potential event.

  A newspaper article from the first week in September had a simple two word headline: Negro Hanged. The article detailed an event on August 30, 1934. Without flowery language or emotion it stated cold fact. An African American man approximately sixteen to twenty years of age was bound and hung over a tree near the old town cemetery just north of the town square. It provided no additional details.

  “This is the cemetery that you’re trying to save!” Lizzie cried out. Several annoyed researchers around her shushed in frustration. A woman near the end of the row of machines gave her a wink and a thumbs up for her discovery. “It happened in your cemetery?”

  The lack of detail in the article shocked Lizzie. The article didn’t mention Eldridge’s name or the abuse that Eliza had sustained. The article reduced the cold, hard facts to a short line as if it were just another entry in the report of the town’s comings and goings.

  Mrs. Nash visits her sister, Mrs. Horn.

  Everett Springs High School will be performing the spring musical this weekend.

  Negro Hanged.

  The reporter didn’t glorify the event, but also didn’t denounce it as a horrible act. It was as if they were reporting on the death of a farm animal. Lizzie kept reading through that week’s edition for any mention of tragic events involving Eliza.

  “There were no witnesses. The police have stated there will be no further investigation into the incident.”

  Lizzie leaned over to her grandmother who was scanning film at the next machine. “Gran, there wasn’t an investigation? Are they serious?” she whispered. “I don’t see anything about Aunt Eliza in here. Were her injuries just ignored?”

  “Well, it was an unseemly and traumatic event. They didn’t talk about rape in the newspapers like they do these days.”

  �
��Yet they’ll talk about a lynching without calling it a murder. Those details weren’t too gruesome, but these others are. Rape is unseemly. Lynching is not. Got it.” Lizzie fought to tamp down her anger.

  “Our family wasn’t high society, but my father was a teacher at the local school and went to the local church. The newspaper may have thought they were sparing them from a scandal. Eliza was having such a hard time dealing with it after it happened that the family could certainly have used the break. Maybe the newspaper had a little compassion.”

  “It just feels like they ignored her. This is hopeless.”

  Gertrude sighed. “I know it doesn’t seem right. It isn’t. Don’t stop yet though, dear. One thing to realize about research like this is that you usually have to piece together many hints and clues. Rarely does your answer show up in one document. There may be another mention. We have to just keep looking.”

  “It’s just so foreign to me. They mentioned it like a line item between the farm report and the classifieds.” Lizzie rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I’m going to grab a drink. I’ll be right back.”

  She needed to take a break. Sitting in the dark room looking at microfilm was stressful on her body and straining on her eyes. It was taking an emotional toll on Lizzie as well as a physical one. A small break would work wonders for her spirit and drive.

  Lizzie had finished her coffee, so she walked out to the foyer of the library to the drink machines. She eyed the sugary choices in front of her and decided that plain bottled water would be best. The beautiful weather caught her attention as she walked past the library’s picture window.

  “Some sun will fix everything,” she whispered.

  Lizzie walked over to the small bank of benches that sat directly outside the library doors and took a seat. Stretching her legs out along the length of the bench, Lizzie closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She took just a minute to let the heat of the sun wash over her. It felt marvelous, and a smile glided across her face. She did something that she hadn’t done in a long time. She just breathed.

  “How are you holding up, dear?”

  Lizzie looked up to see Abi standing near her. Shading her eyes with her hand, she looked up at her dear friend. “I’m doing all right, Miss Abi. I just wish I’d find out more about Eliza and Eldridge. It’s so frustrating not to see them get justice for what happened.”

  “That’s the funny thing about family history research. Sometimes you find your story. Other times you simply find the mystery or, in this case, the horror. You’ll get there. Keep searching. Your motives are honest and true. It will pay off.”

  “I hope so. I just feel like they deserve more. They deserve vindication or acknowledgement. Something.” Lizzie sighed. “I guess we should be back at it.”

  “Let’s get inside, then.” Abi gave her a hug.

  Lizzie turned toward the parking lot. “I’m going to grab my jacket from the car. It’s a little chilly in the microfilm room.”

  “Hazard of the job, my dear,” Abi said with a wave of her hand as she entered the library doors.

  Lizzie stood and stretched her arms above her head. Putting her hands into pockets, she took off toward the car. Lizzie was surprised at how cool it was in the library. As she crossed the parking lot, she saw a familiar face.

  “Well now, look who you run into when you come to town during the day!” Lizzie slid up behind Thomas Abernathy and put her arm around the elderly man’s shoulders. “It’s so nice to run into you.”

  “Miss Lizzie, look at you. I’m so glad to see you in town. Have I introduced you to my grandson, Avery?” Thomas gestured with a hand to the young man who accompanied him.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Avery,” she said as she extended a hand. “I’m Lizzie. Your grandfather is a favorite of mine at our church. Are you in town for a visit?”

  Avery Abernathy was a handsome man. In his early thirties, he was well dressed with a sparkling white smile. By the look of his clean khaki Dockers and his leather loafers, Lizzie could tell that he wasn’t a man used to hard physical labor.

  “Nice to meet you, Miss Lizzie,” Avery said as he reached to return her handshake. “I’m here on a reconnaissance mission. I’m thinking of moving back to town. It would be nice to have family back in the area again, right Gramps?”

  “It would be wonderful. I think you’d be quite happy here. Generations of your family have been after all. So, Lizzie, dear, how are the kids treating you at the community center? Are they here on a field trip today?” Thomas stood leaning on his familiar wooden cane. His smile lit up his face as he looked at Lizzie.

  “It’s just me today. I’m taking some vacation time this week to hang out with my Gran. We’re digging into a little family history mystery. It’s exciting.”

  “Gertrude has to be in heaven. You’re making your granny very happy, young lady. Is this something you learned about when you were at the church the other day for the meeting?”

  “Yes, sir. Did you happen to see the diary that was with us at the table? It turns out that it was my great-grandfather’s. He used it to record his thoughts about an event that involved his younger sister, Eliza.”

  Lizzie didn’t notice, but a look of concern flashed on Thomas’ face. He made a quick inhalation which caught Avery’s attention. Without losing composure, Thomas nodded and said, “Why, yes, I remember Miss Eliza. She was older than me, but I knew her from around church.” He reached out a hand and patted Avery on the back. “Family is important, isn’t it, son?”

  “Yes, sir, it is. That it is.” Avery followed his grandfather’s lead but remained concerned that there was more to the story.

  “I better get back inside. Gran and her friends are holding my seat at the microfilm reader. Those newspapers aren’t going to search themselves,” Lizzie giggled. She gave Thomas a friendly hug and turned to Avery. “Enjoy your visit here. Hopefully our paths will cross again. I’d love to introduce you to my husband, Jack. Maybe we’ll see you at church on Sunday.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Nice to meet you, too.” Avery gave her a glistening smile. As his new friend walked back into the library, he turned to his grandfather.

  “So, Gramps, are you going to fill me in on what that was about? Who was Eliza?”

  “She’s the reason that I do what I do, son. She’s why your mama left town. She’s also the reason that I never could.” Thomas wiped tears away from his eyes, hoping that his grandson wasn’t able to discern the pain that he felt at hearing Eliza’s name.

  Confused, Avery patted his grandfather on the back. He looked in Lizzie’s direction to be sure that they were alone.

  “Why don’t we grab lunch and talk for a minute,” Avery said.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Thomas and his grandson entered the small diner and took a seat in a booth near the window. After ordering lunch, Avery leaned back into the banquet seat and looked at his grandfather. The older gentleman fiddled with the edge of the worn cloth napkin that sat folded by his coffee cup.

  “Lizzie seemed nice,” Avery said, starting the conversation with an easy topic.

  “She is. I’ve watched her grow up. I’ve watched many in her family grow up. I guess that’s what happens when you are one of the oldest in the church. You see generations grow up before you like weeds.”

  “You’ve know her family for a while then?”

  “I’ve known both sides of Lizzie’s family all my life. You heard me tell Lizzie that her great-aunt was someone I knew from church. You don’t have to beat around the bush with me,” Thomas said.

  “You’ve got me,” Avery said with a smile. “Who was she?”

  “Eliza was the sweetest girl that I knew. She was older than I was, so it wasn’t like we were friends. I guess I was a little sweet on her like all little boys are sweet on those older girls who take an interest in them.” He continued to fiddle with the edge of his napkin until the hem curled in his fingers. The waitress brought their lunch and scurried
off to take care of another customer.

  “Are you okay to talk about this?” Avery asked.

  “You need to know. It’s part of your history.” Thomas stirred a packet of sugar into his tea. “It never is sweet enough. Anyway, Eliza was a good girl. She would sometimes sneak me a piece of peppermint at Christmastime. I know that it had to be a sacrifice for her because her family was just a farming family like mine. We didn’t have money for candy, and I know they didn’t have much to spare either. She was special, that one. She died, Avery, and I caused it.”

  Avery set his fork down on the side of his plate. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and tried not to choke on his last bite of food. “I don’t understand, Gramps. What did you do?”

  “One day we were at the church. My father was mad at the pastor for something, so he had to go tell him about it. He had a violent temper, that man. I was just a young boy and had accompanied him there. I liked looking at the stained glass windows so I usually begged to go with either of my parents or older siblings when I had the chance. That day, I overheard a man praying for his sister. He said things that I was unable to understand. I was a child after all. After he left, my dad came out from speaking with Pastor. It was then that I made the most devastating mistake of my life.”

  Avery waited as his grandfather took a sip of tea. He could see his grandfather’s hands shaking. “We don’t have to talk about this if it is too much. We can wait until later.”

  “No, no. I’m fine. The truth has to come out,” Thomas continued. “You see, I heard Eliza’s brother talking in church, but I didn’t understand what he was praying about. I was a young boy, so I did what young boys do. I asked my father. I didn’t realize the implications, Avery. I didn’t mean it.” Thomas fought back tears. Setting his hands in his lap, he dropped his face and his voice. “My daddy made me tell him everything that I heard Alston say. All my father cared about was that the neighboring black boy was doing something that he shouldn’t.”