Warning: This writing contains discussions of sensitive topics which include descriptions of violence and racial discrimination.

On March 21, 1981, police in Mobile, Alabama responded to a call that a body had been placed on Herndon Avenue in the downtown section of the city. First responders arrived to find the severely mutilated body of Michael Donald (1961-1981) which had been tied to a tree. The crime was horrific and left residents of the city stunned. But as police investigated the crime and more information surfaced, Mobile’s dark past would also come into focus, with a spotlight on racial terror under Jim Crow in the South. I placed a disclaimer at the top of the page because this book will affect you. Although the author does not focus extensively on acts of violence, incidents are discussed to emphasize the level of danger black people found themselves living with. Black Alabamans had come to accept that justice was not blind, and if you were not white, your life did not matter as much. However, that would change with Donald’s death. 

Prior to reading the book, I did not know about Donald’s murder, so this was my first time learning about the case. However, the book is more than a discussion of a tragic homicide. In fact, it is a valuable tool for insight into the long struggle for equality in America and the sacrifices made by the people on the front lines who gave their lives so that others could live in peace. After the initial shock of the crime subsides, the focus shifts to the culprits. And we are introduced to Bennie Jack Hays (1915-1993), his son Henry F. Hays (1954-1997), and James “Tiger” Knowles. Of all the books I have read, these men by far are among the darkest figures I have come across. In fact, Bennie was beyond dark, completely unrepentant and the personification of evil. And to remove all doubt, this quote by his own attorney sums it up:

“Bennie was one of the most truly evil people that I’ve ever come across,” says Mays. “Even in my criminal law practice, I’ve had few people I’ve represented who you could say basically were born without a conscience. Bennie Hays had no conscience. None.”

It should be noted that the men were not lone soldiers but members of the United Klans of America (“UKA”), and subordinates to its leader Robert Shelton (1929-2003) who reappears later in the story during civil ligation. Initially the case was cold, but a surprise break by federal agents leads to the arrests of the murderers. And more surprisingly, there is a confession by Henry. But that is far from the end of the story. And though Henry would be convicted of capital murder, the Donald family’s journey had more ground to cover, and this is where we learn about the family’s lawyer Morris Dees. I was familiar with Dees’s name but personal story I did not know. Having finished the book, I can now say that he is one of the most important people in civil rights litigation and the Southern Poverty Law Center (“SPLC”), an organization he co-founded, remains an icon in the never-ending battle for equality. But as readers will see in the book, Dees was not always the crusader for racial justice. In fact, his own odyssey from a “good old boy” to game changing litigator as told in the story is as surreal as the criminal case itself. However, people can and do change. 

In the wake of the criminal case, Dees approaches Beulah Mae Donald (1920-1988) and asks if he can represent her in a civil suit against the UKA. She is initially hesitant, not believing a jury would ever find the UKA responsible for her son’s death. But Dees was determined, and she agrees, and the book takes another turn but one back into time to examine the history of Alabama and Dees’s life. Readers from Alabama do not need a history lesson I am sure, but for those of us who have not lived in the state or are unfamiliar with the contents of the book, you are in for a difficult yet redeeming journey in which we are provided a front row seat to the dark side of human nature and the influence of former Alabama Governor George C. Wallace (1919-1998).  Readers should be aware that the incidents discussed are difficult to accept and seem unbelievable today. However, they happened, and in many cases, the perpetrators of violence escaped punishment. Interestingly, I did notice one source of paranoia for supporters of segregation and discrimination which left me shaking my head in disbelief. I do not want to issue any spoilers, but readers will notice it too as the book progresses. 

The section of the book which focuses on the civil rights era and events in Alabama is haunting. It is hard to put into words how deadly the 1960s was in America and the climate of death which followed civil rights leaders and activists. The violence became so intense that it warranted the involvement of the Federal Bureau of Investigation (“FBI”) and J. Edgar Hoover (1895-1972) himself. And at the top of the chain of command in Alabama there was Wallace leading the fight against integration. Frankly, the story is horrifying but it will also make you realize that there are rights we have today which should be protected at all costs. Wallace was a chameleon in many ways but undeniably responsible for violence which engulfed Alabama. His personal story is equally as dark, but the concluding chapter of his life is a complete 180 degree turn from when he proudly declared “segregation now, segregation tomorrow and segregation forever!”. An irony I noticed in the book is that the most unsavory characters were also the most tragic and their lives did not end well. Karma never forgets. 

Eventually, the civil trial arrives in which Shelton must take the stand and defend the UKA. He is confident of victory and his arrogance seeps through the pages. However, times had changed, Alabamans had seen too much violence and racial terror, and being a Klan member no longer afforded the level of protection that it once did. As someone who works in litigation now, the discussion of the proceedings hit close to home, and I felt overwhelming satisfaction when the jury announced the verdict. The UKA was financially finished, but its members did not disavow their beliefs overnight, and some never did.  But Mobile’s black residents finally had faith that justice was indeed blind. Of course, nothing is perfect, and the case did not eliminate discrimination, but it did show that hate comes with a hefty price tag. In 2006, the City of Mobile renamed Herndon Avenue to Michael Donald Way and made it clear that his name would never be forgotten. And this book by Laurence Leamer ensures that his murder and its impact on Alabama can be studied in the present and by future generations. 

ASIN‏ :‎ B0151VIAKO
Publisher‏ : ‎William Morrow; Reprint edition (June 7, 2016)