Blood at the Root: A Racial Cleansing in America

One night, Patrick Phillips took a break from researching the bubonic plague in London to type into an internet search engine “1912” and “Forsyth,” the county in Georgia where he grew up.Those two words led to an "Atlanta Constitution" photo of militia guards standing behind six African-American prisoners. The photo impelled the author to learn everything he could about the girl, the men and the boys who “peered across the century, frozen there beside the train tracks. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the image came to me bearing not just a secret but an obligation.”The obligation took him back to Forsyth County to research the events that led to the kangaroo court trial of the two boys and the creation of a totally white county sustained by violence and fear for 75 years.What he found was a near complete suppression of Forsyth’s history of racial cleansing. “The signs that African Americans once lived there,” the author writes, “had already begun to fade, and the remnants of that old world were visible only to those who knew where to look.” He tells the story of one woman who kneels down to inspect the “faint inscriptions on the stepping-stones” leading up to a friends front door. She realizes the stepping stones are grave stones taken from a long ago black cemetery.Leafing through records at the court house, he finds the trial record of the two black boys in the photograph is marked by a piece of hangman’s noose. Landmarks remain without explanation, like a burned out chimney and piles of moss covered rocks-- all that remain of a community of blacks who had built churches and managed to acquire property after the Civil War.The white neighbors appropriate the land, livestock and crops left behind by the exodus of their black neighbors. Generations later, some Forsyth citizens defended their whites-only policy on the grounds that people have a right to choose their neighbors--conveniently not mentioning the terror, arson and dynamite that drove 1098 of their black neighbors from their homes.Looking to the corners of the story, I was intrigued to find that the wage of fear did exact a price from the whites—although nowhere near as obvious as for the blacks. A local doctor recounts how men, involved in those long ago events, were burdened with remorse at the end of their lives. “As they grew older, their minds [were] burdened by having had a part in the killing…this thing they knew, was wrong.”This is an important book with lessons to be learned by the different trajectory that the neighboring Hall County, where a brave and principled Sheriff immediately cracked down on night riders. In contrast, Forsyth, whose sheriff turned a blind eye, remained a racist pariah until a group of extraordinarily brave civil rights marchers, including the author’s parents and sister, in 1987 set out to march to the Forsyth County Court House, beginning the process of integration.This is an important and beautifully written book that preserves the human elements of Forsyth’s racial story. The author is to be commended for tracking down and recording oral memories passed down by generations of blacks dispersed to the diaspora and those white descendants willing to help, before those memories are lost.

Growing up in North Georgia, I had the feeling that the state's most interesting history took place further south—in Atlanta or Savannah or mid-state. But Patrick Phillips proves me wrong. Forsyth, the North Georgia county where he grew up, was all white from 1912 until 1987. It didn't become that way accidentally. The county experienced two ethnic cleansings—one of the Cherokee, who were pushed onto the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma in the 1830s, and the second a bloody purging early in the 20th century of African Americans that is the topic of this book.Ironically, Reconstruction had brought some remedy after the Civil War to freed slaves in the county. A few became landowners, and some of those became truly prosperous. But of course Reconstruction was an affront to the prevailing supremacist ethic of most white men. As the Freedman's Bureau closed up shop, black families were more vulnerable.The beginnings of the story, which center on the attack and subsequent death of a young white woman and the resulting lynchings of young black men accused in her death, are almost unbearable to read. Phillips is a poet, and he has an eye for the drama. We see the sister of a young man lynched shortly after the attack turn state's witness against another brother and a cousin. We see lawyers and county officials carefully set up a quick trial and executions and watch passively as a mob burns down a fence meant to screen out bloodthirsty spectators.(Some of these same characters will soon be involved in permitting the lynching of Jewish factory owner Leo Frank in nearby Marietta.)Eventually, black families are forced off their land by threats to their lives, whether or not they are associated with attacks on whites. Many fled to more tolerant surroundings in Gainesville and Tate, Georgia.The descendants of both the Forsyth perpetrators and the victims are around today, and Phillips doesn't flinch from mentioning names. He tracks down black family members who can recall the stories their elders told of being forced to leave their homes and land with no chance for adequate compensation. And he reports on the unrepentant satisfaction the descendants of the segregationists in keeping the county free of any black residents. No reparations appear to be offered even now.Not until 1987 does anyone challenge this all-white territory that defies federal law. A newcomer and local business owner decides to take on the issue. He plans a march that finds support with civil rights activists in nearby Atlanta. People gather for the march, and the police shield the marchers for a while but urge them to get back on the bus. Even Hosea Williams, who was a close associate of Martin Luther King, Jr., remarks on the vitriol of people in Cummings, the county seat.Eventually, though, Forsyth County and Cummings realize they can no longer resist black citizens. The area is now an exurb of Atlanta, and the city's employers need a place for a diverse work force to live. For those who hold land (both that they bought and that they confiscated from absent black owners) this is a great opportunity. Neighborhoods with impressive homes sprout, and, Phillips speculates, the occupants probably have no idea of the history of the land they live on.So much of the behavior Phillips describes echoes in the racial tensions across our nation today. We see how the status quo supports outrageous infringements on innocent lives and how difficult it is to change course once a precedent is established. There were other "sundown" communities in America where anyone who wasn't white knew they had to leave before the sun set or face deadly force, but this is the first I've learned about in Georgia, and I recommend this book to anyone who cares about racial justice.

I grew up in Atlanta, and as a young child I remembered hearing family always talk about "you'll die in Forsyth County" but never understood what was meant until 1987. I was 15 then and saw the Brotherhood March footage on TV. I'd thought those days were behind us. The first time I set foot in Forsyth County was in 1999, when a white co-worker drove me to his house that he was selling and moving back to New York. When I saw the Cumming exit sign I flipped out and demanded that he drive us back to work. He didn't understand the history of that area, and I told him about the little that I knew and he literally broke out into tears.This book is excellent, as it embellished the information I already knew from being a black person in Atlanta, and added much more I had no idea about. Halfway through the book I'd already recommended it to people in my book club. I highly recommend this to anyone.

This is a story that needs to be told, a history that should never be repeated. It is good to know that the people of this area changed, sad that it took so many decades for that change to happen.

This book should be required reading for every high school student in Georgia - and all high school students, for that matter.It was obvious the author did extensive research into a shameful series of events that continue to affect our nation today. I especially appreciated reading the names and the narratives of the black citizens. So often their specific stories are generalized often due to a lack of documentation.The author's personal connection to the place creates a compelling narrative and addresses those who, despite claiming, "I wasn't there then," still benefit from white privilege, albeit, unknowingly.A compelling, can't-put-it-down read.

What can you say about a new book? Is in perfect condition and I look forward to reading it

A history book which is as easy and exciting to read as a true crime story

des dizaines de pages ont été arrachées de ce livre

Compelling reading that I couldn’t wait to keep going with each day.The book itself feels amazing to hold and just look at. I am a book worm that appreciates the tactile nature of a hard copy book and this one ticked the ‘fully satisfied’ box!

Good