The 1935 lynching of Rubin Stacy in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. The story behind the lynching is as follows: Six deputies were escorting Stacy to Dade County jail in Miami on 19th July, 1935, when he was taken by a white mob and hanged by the side of the home of Marion Jones the woman who had made the original complaint against him. The New York Times later revealed that "subsequent investigation revealed that Stacy, a homeless tenant farmer, had gone to the house to ask for food; the woman became frightened and screamed when she saw Stacy's face."Florida is no stranger to racial adversity. Between 1967 and 1996, Florida has been the site of seven more race riots. All were initiated over the accusation of law enforcement taking sides based on race.
In 1923, an angry mob of about 100 to 150 whites, several who had come from out of state, attacked, tortured, and shot at the black residents of the little town of Rosewood, FL after it was rumored that they had helped a black man rape and kill a white woman. Much later, it was discovered that the married woman was most likely actually beaten up by her white boyfriend with whom she was having an affair, and not raped, nor killed. However, the crowd had been excited and would not turn back. While law enforcement and even the Governor of Florida ignored the riot, the little black town of Rosewood was burned to the ground and essentially wiped off the map, the surviving residents fleeing to other cities and states to escape persecution for their skin color. The full story can be found at: www.afgen.com/roswood2.html
Could Florida be the site of another riot, perhaps whites raging against other whites, over their support of a black presidential candidate? The 2008 landmark presidential election of a white man vs. a black has had an unusual outcome. It has brought out into the open the ugly pale underbelly of the south – the white supremacist.
The McCain/Palin crowd has not just become vocal, they’ve become violent. A Washington Post October 7, 2008 article reported that during a Palin rally in Clearwater, Florida on October 6, the crowd turned on the media after Palin blamed reporters, such as CBS news anchor Katie Couric, for making her look bad.
One attendee, further riled up, resorted to yelling racial epithets at a black sound man, then told him to, “Sit down, boy,” an term meant to demean an adult black male.
As Palin read off a “guilty by association” list of terrorists Obama has crossed paths with over the length of his entire political career, a man in the audience suggested:
“Kill him!”
White Barack Obama supporters have an interesting challenge. They will be voting “black” in a part of the country where having a son with a gay partner is more socially acceptable than having a white daughter married to a black man. It’s no wonder people are afraid to admit their allegiance to Obama, for there are still those in the south who say they would like to send all the blacks back to Africa.
This past weekend, I and several others volunteered for the Obama campaign to register voters at a street festival in Port Orange, a city in Central Florida. I wore my official Obama/Biden t-shirt, one of only three I saw while walking the entire length of the festival. As my friend Trish and I surveyed the crowd for unregistered voters, we handed out Obama stickers. I was surprised at the number of people who were nervous about wearing a sticker in public.
“That’s my guy,” whispered one woman to me.
“Would you like a sticker?” I asked.
“Oh no!” she shook her head and scurried away. I felt as if I was handing out something truly embarrassing, such as condoms.
A fireman told me, “My union’s voting Obama, but I don’t dare wear that,” he confessed.
Many people were willing to take a sticker, but not to wear them. In my rough estimation, women were about five times more likely than men to accept them, and out of those, about half were willing to put on and wear the sticker in public that very minute. Parents who would not wear a sticker themselves were happy to put them on their children instead.
“But they can’t vote,” said Trish.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “People need to get comfortable with the idea of a black man as president. The more people that wear the logo, the more people will feel comfortable voting for Obama,” I explained.
Older people were more likely to grimace when I offered an Obama sticker. I’ll never forget the look on one 80 year-old man’s face, as I offered him one. He opened his mouth in horror, then took his wife’s arm and led her away from me as quickly as her cane would allow her to walk.
It’s no wonder. Many older Americans were alive when lynching was a publicly acceptable form of vigilante justice and lynching photos were circulated on mass produced postcards.
Historian James Allen has assembled a collection of lynching postcards and photos on his website, www.withoutsanctuary.org. Particularly disturbing are the stories behind the lynching photos, some where the persecutors admit to getting the wrong man; others where white mobs broke the accused out of jails for the purpose of mutilating them, then killing them before they could even stand trial. Many photos show whites - standing around proudly, children in tow, laughing and smiling, the victim propped up and sometimes decorated like a hunting trophy.
Some postcards and photos date as recently as 1936, only 72 years ago. That means that my parents and my neighbors were not only alive, but were raised in an environment which advocated lynching as a form of keeping blacks “in their place.”
It is difficult for me to understand the mindset of racists. How is it possible that they can find the act of love between whites and blacks disgusting, but not the act of torturing and hanging up another human being to die?
Perhaps the angry crowd at VP Candidate Palin’s rally will go home and rethink their attitudes. Or, perhaps their public outcries will attract the extreme white supremacists from other parts of the country, eager to expend some energy. If I were Governor Charlie Christ, I would put the National Guard on standby. Palin is still in the state, after all.
