Hey friends, BT here light before We're going to look at some ugly stuff in this episode.

This one in particular, contains some scenes of racial violence as well as some really racist language.

Just letting you know, thanks for listening.

We bring you today to Forsyth County, Georgia, just thirty miles north of Atlanta, which in the past few weeks has gained the reputation of being a hotbed of racism.

In case you can't tell, that's Oprah talking, This is audio pulled from her TV show way back in nineteen eighty seven.

Back then, she wasn't the superstar we know her as today.

In nineteen eighty seven, she'd only been on the national airwaves a few months.

This particular episode was the first time Oprah took her show on the road, traveling from her studio in Chicago to the country back roads of Forsyth County, Georgia.

Here are just some of the images of Forsyth County in past weeks that were broadcast around the globe.

They're showing a bunch of cars and protesters jamming a road near downtown coming.

They're helicopters overhead, Guys wearing clan robes and tall white Pointy clan hats and tons of Confederate flags.

I doubt Oprah's crew had any idea what they were getting into.

There's no niggers here.

Why should they even come?

You know, they asked for They got it so wanted to come back.

You know.

This guy's from forsythe County.

Barrel chested, white guy, Viking beard, aviator, sunglasses, camo jacket, camo hat.

Why'd they come back?

He asks?

It's tough to make out here, but they're chanting no King Holiday.

After this, Oprah and her crew take the show inside.

They're in a big room with about one hundred residents of forsythe County.

Oprah's right in the middle of them all.

She's got her mic in hand and a big eighties here.

Somebody tell me where did the people who can't come from who were shouting nigga go home?

They came from weirdly, yes, ma'am, they came from.

My name's Frank Shirley.

I'm the head of the committee to keep for scythe in Dawson County, Whitey.

This guy's very clean cut, white, wearing a charcoal gray suit, about forty years old, big thick caterpillar mustache.

When he it produces himself as the head of the Committee to keep for scythe in Dawson County White.

He's met with a mix of cheers and booze.

He leans back with his hands in his pockets, huge grin.

Let him speak, Please, let him speak.

He has the right to speak.

Okay, the news media is covered up.

There were thousands of white people that came out to join our white people's protests.

There's the largest white people's protest against communism and race mixing in the last thirty years, and news media is deliberately covered up the nature of the Brotherhood marchers, many of whom are common outright communist and homosexuals, and our organization was the only one that dared take a stand against them.

They march, Bryant, I'm not just anti black, you're also anti gay.

Two.

I'm opposed to communism, race mixing, and low morals, and homosexuals are of low morals in my opinion, Communists, race mixers, and homosexuals, He says, a truly wicked trinity for backwards Southerners in nineteen eighty seven, So what happened in nineteen eighty seven to cause hordes of angry bigots to flood the streets of Forsyth County.

And why did Oprah of all people travel seven hundred miles south to stick a microphone in the face of racists?

Well, to understand that, you've got to understand the terrible events that happened here seventy five years earlier.

October of nineteen twelve.

It's month number twenty two in our story, And I'm really glad you're here.

You're listening to episode thirteen of catlic A white Man's County.

When I last left you, it was October second, nineteen twelve.

Six young African Americans were being escorted by one hundred and sixty seven Georgia militiamen through the streets of downtown Atlanta.

They were in route north to the town of Coming in Forsyth County.

Four of the six were charged with attacking two white him in several weeks earlier.

The other two were being held as witnesses for the state.

After boarding a train at Downtown's bustling Terminal station, the procession of prisoners, troops, journalists, and lawyers began their journey north to forsythe county the trial would start the next day.

The locomotive hissed and sputtered as it pulled out of the station, beginning its journey thirty miles north.

After a few minutes, the Atlanta skyline shrank behind them.

The pavement and glitz of the city gave way to rural Georgia farmland, speeding by at seventy miles per hour.

After several stops along the way, the train finally arrived in the little town of Beauford, Georgia.

From here, the Cortege would walk the remaining thirteen miles to forsythe county.

As you'd imagine, marching thirteen miles with a group of two hundred people was neither quick nor discreet.

They traversed muddy roads, wooded paths, and rolling hills.

As they marched through one small town after another, Locals pushed open their screen doors, came out on their porches, and gawked.

Surely, the six black detainees felt their scorn.

The Georgia guardsmen pulled in a bit tighter around the prisoners.

By dusk, the procession reached the outskirts of coming As the sun dipped behind the trees, the men set up camp in a field, pitching their tents and lighting several small fires.

Throughout the night, The captives were closely guarded and lookouts were stationed around the perimeter of the encampment.

The threat of a moonlight ambush was very real, so they took no chances.

Around midnight, the silence of the night was punctured the sound of breaking twigs and the silhouettes of men coming from a nearby stand of trees.

Halt a nervous sentry barks.

Five white faces emerged from the darkness.

But these aren't men in overalls.

These are men in suits.

They raise their hands cautiously, approached the century and explain their business.

They're allowed in.

Within minutes, the men are conducting a private meeting with the prisoners.

Now these weren't just ordinary men.

These were some of the local movers and shakers of forsythe county.

Amongst them are two we've already met, Judge Knut Morris, who would be presiding over the trial, as well as Sheriff William Reid.

Yes that's the William Reid who'd abandoned the jail as the lynch mobs were howling for Rob Edwards head and it was the William Reid who would eventually join the local KKK chapter many years later.

Now, the specifics of this private meeting between these influential white men and the black prisoners aren't fully known, but we do know there was a special conversation held with the lone female of the group, Jane Daniel.

If you remember, Jane was the wife of the late Rob Edwards, the man the proscythe County mob had lynched weeks earlier.

After several minutes of hushed conversation, the prisoners were dismissed back to their tents.

The white men left the camp and disappeared back into the night.

So what was discussed in this midnight meeting More on that later.

The next morning, city officials woke early to prepare for the day's big trial.

In the previous weeks, legal teams had been assembled for both sides.

The prosecuting attorneys represented some of the best around, seasoned, silver tongued litigators, eager to get in on a blockbuster trial that would be an easy win.

The defense was another story.

No one wanted to be one of the poor fools who had to defend the black perpetrators.

Nevertheless, several local attorneys were conscripted into service, and they were truly pathetic.

None of them had experience in a big criminal trial.

These were guys who'd spent their legal careers in the boring work of land deeds and property taxes, and at twenty one years old, one of them was a total rookie, in way over his head and utterly unprepared for a highly charged trial like this.

On the morning of the trial, another order of business was the selection of jurors.

A pool of eighty four people, all white men, of course, was whittled down to a final twelve.

Court records noted that eleven of the twelve were local farmers and one was a merchant.

It's worth pointing out here than in the nineteen twenties several of the names of these jurors would be found on a roster alongside the name of Sheriff William Reid.

That roster, of course, denoted me membership in the local chapter of the KKK.

With legal teams and jurors in place, it was time for the prisoners.

Word was sent the prisoner escort broke camp, and the group began its final march into the city On that brisk October morning, downtown Coming was packed.

One paper reported that it was quote crowded as never before in its history.

Quote.

People poured in from miles around, hoping to be a part of whatever drama emerged from the long awaited trial.

As the feet of the six prisoners shuffled along the paved streets of Coming, they were met with a howling swell of hisses, booze, and threats.

If the six black captives had any dreams of a civil reception, they were instantly crushed.

Despite the crowds bluster, no one dared oppose the rolling columns of stern faced troops now marching through the streets on this particular day.

The optics of lethal force had been shrewdly planned, with each soldier toating not one, but two weapons Slung over one shoulder a Springdale carbine rifle with the bayonet mount and on the opposite hip a pistol.

Like before, this was a martial law situation, and each of these one hundred and sixty seven troops was authorized by the governor to shoot anyone looking to cause trouble.

As they made their approach, troops fanned out across the courthouse grounds.

One company of men escorted the prisoners inside.

Another formed a human wall around the stately brick building.

Other men lined the stairwells and blocked the windows of the courthouse.

The remaining detachments patrolled the surrounding roads and alleyways.

This display of military might was found clearly designed to strike fear in the hearts of any would be lynchers.

Inside the buzzing courtroom for scythe county's most prominent men took their seats.

Among them was Coming Mayor Charlie Harris.

It's safe to assume that Harris and the other well dressed men of the county were desperately hoping for a smooth and speedy trial.

Remember, for years, these men had been courting the state's top railroad officials, hoping to entice them to extend a line to their town of Coming.

They knew that if the locals weren't happy with the outcome of the trial, things could get ugly, really fast, and the last thing they needed was a nightmarish lynching pr fiasco.

No railroad magnate in his right mind would take Coming seriously as long as gangs of lawless mountaineers were calling the shots.

As the last few observers shuffled their seats.

Judge Knut Morris wrapped his gavel.

The whispers and chitchat faded.

Court was in session.

Judge Morris began with a lecture about proper court decorum.

He explained that the first order of business would be the trial of Earnest Knox and after that Oscar Daniel.

It was assumed that things would move fairly fast.

Worried about bias in the courtroom, well you shouldn't, according to Judge Knut Morris that day he offered full assurance that things would be fair and impartial, and that he was committed to quote upholding the majesty of the law ute.

With that assurance in place, it was time to begin.

The first person called to the stand was Bud Crowe, the father of the slain eighteen year old white woman May Crow.

Mister Crowe share a heartbreaking story about his daughter and her final days.

Observers wept after that.

Two doctors who treated Macrow took the stand in vivid detail.

They described the brutality, the animalistic cruelty of May's attack.

Within minutes, the prosecution's strategy was obvious.

Mortify the jurors early with heartbreaking and graphic descriptions of Macrow's injuries.

The next person called to the stand was ed Collins, one of the six black prisoners that had been held down in Atlanta.

He testified that on the night of the attack, Ernest Knox and Rob Edwards had borrowed a lantern from him.

Prosecution made the case that after smashing Macro in the head with the rock, the two men borrowed the lantern and went back to rape and unconscious may Crow.

Next Marvin Bell, Bell, as it turns out, was the leading citizen who coaxed Ernest Knox into his car and extracted a confession.

Of course, when Bell took the stand and told his story, he failed to mention anything about the mock lynching he'd subjected Ernest Knox too.

After a brief break for lunch, the prosecution called a surprise witness, Miss Jane Daniel.

No one had expected this.

The timid black woman took the stand and offered a shocking account of what had happened that night.

Here's what she said.

Knox had in fact bludgeoned Macrow and summoned others.

She had been forced to come along for one disturbing reason.

To hold the lantern while the boys took turns raping Macrow.

The courtroom let out a collective gasp, forcing Judge Morris to regain order.

It was at this exact moment one reporter wrote that Ernest Knox's fate was sealed.

Knox might as well accept his quote departure from coming to Hell quote hyperbole aside.

This testimony was very, very bad for Ernest Knox.

Now it's at this point where we need to revisit that mysterious midnight meeting between Jane Daniel and those influential white men from Coming just one night earlier.

Many have speculated that they offered some kind of deal to Jane Daniel, a negotiation, if you will remember, there was lots of pressure for this trial to be quick while also satisfying the blood lust of the locals.

The prosecution needed some devastating testimony from a star witness, and it's likely they found that person in Jane Daniel.

Remember, four of these black prisoners were transported up from Atlanta, and the intention initially was to try all four.

However, at some point the plan changed.

The prosecution zeroed in on just two of the suspects, Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel.

Those who've studied this case if theorized that Jane's deal likely went something like this, Listen, Jane tell the jurors that Ernest and Oscar did it, and we'll spare everyone else, including you.

If you don't, then they'll probably hang all four of you.

Sacrifice too to save two.

Jane's testimony would be the prosecution's silver bullet.

It would guarantee two certified, state sanctioned executions while ensuring a speedy trial that wouldn't linger in the news for too long.

Well, if that was in fact their plan, it worked.

After Jane Daniel's testimony, the defense didn't even attempt to cross examine her, which is a grave injustice in and of itself personally speaking.

The jury was then dismiss Nineteen minutes later, they returned at four o eight pm, the verdict was read.

Sixteen year old Ernest Knox was declared guilty of raping and murdering may Crow.

There was an audible cheer in the courtroom.

Many of the onlookers were then dismissed, eager to get home before dark.

However, there was still unfinished business.

The trial of Oscar Daniel, Jane's brother.

It was, as you can imagine, only a formality.

Jane Daniel again was called to the stand.

She told the same story as before, this time highlighting Oscar's role in the crime.

Oscar was not the primary perpetrator, but he was certainly an accomplice.

I can't imagine what Oscar must have been thinking as his sister spoke.

He must have known her words were a death sentence.

Several other witnesses took the stand, but it didn't really matter.

Everyone knew where this was going.

Around eight pm, the jury began their deliberations and an hour later delivered their verdict.

Oscar Daniel was found guilty as well for his role in the attack on May Crow.

Tired and ready to go home, Judge Morris summoned everyone's attention one final time.

They all were to return first thing in the morning for the formal sentencing, and just like that, it was done.

Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel were found guilty in double trials that lasted less than twelve hours.

Everyone filed out of the courtroom and into the dark and quiet streets of downtown Coming Ernest, Oscar and Jane were escorted to the basement of the court house, where they'd stay the night, surrounded by armed troops.

Papers reported that violent thunderstorms moved into Forsyth County at night, soaking the encamped militiamen down to their skin.

By nine am.

The next morning, court was back in session.

Judge Morris made a point to heap praise on the attending soldiers after that the sentencing.

It didn't take long his words.

You will be hanged by the neck until you are dead, and may the Lord have mercy on your souls, he said.

October twenty fifth is the official date of the double hanging.

Just an hour after the sentencing, the two hundred person brigade was back on the muddy roads of hers scythe county as they began their long journey back to Atlanta.

In his book Blood at the Root, Patrick Phillips recounts a really sad story from that march to Buford.

At one point, Ernest Knox spoke up, which was fairly unusual.

He was known as being a man of few words.

Though he was handcuffed to Oscar Daniel, he asked one of the officers if he could be released so that he could make a run for it.

Why would Ernest make such a ridiculous request, Well, knowing he was surrounded by skilled marksman, Knox was likely hoping they just shoot him as he ran, thus sparing him the torture of returning to the gallows of Forsyth County.

The officers laughed off his request and they all kept marching.

When the group arrived back in Atlanta, Ernest Oscar and Tony Howell were shown to their cells in the Fulton Tower.

However, the others, including Jane Daniel, must have been shocked when their handcuffs were removed and shown not to a cell, but to a door.

Just like that, the three bewildered black residents of Forsyth County were released into the streets of Atlanta, where they likely began the search for their now displaced families.

Now, all this went down in early October nineteen twelve.

While the drama of the trial faded, the terror of the night Riders certainly did not remember.

This wasn't just a Halloween scare campaign.

This was a systematic plot to terrorize the black citizens of forsythe county to the point where they would leave all of them.

By mid October, the night Riders began expediting their efforts by a simply mailing black residents a threatening letter stipulating the exact date they had to be gone or else.

The Night Riders also had a plan for the black holdouts being sheltered by their wealthy white employers.

Those employers were also sent threatening letters demanding that their black help vacate the county asap or their homes would be torched in the night.

It was now clear that Forsyth County was no longer a place for any black residence or their white sympathizers.

Now around this time, some of the more dignified residents of Forsyth County decided they'd had enough, so they hosted a meeting and coming where they officially condemned the night Riders and called on the governor to intervene.

Among them was A.

J.

Julian, one of the more well respected and wealthy planters of Forsyth County.

He wrote a letter to Governor Brown down in Atlanta.

Here's what it said.

There is a gang of night marauders here.

They have run off about all of the negroes, and they are bold in their operations.

It seems the sheriffs are cowards and fearful.

Last Sunday week, five men went to a Negro house.

When they found the men gone, they went up and ordered the women to leave, one with a baby in a pouring rain.

After they left, they shot the dogs, took all their furniture, clothes in betting, piled it out in the yard, then set fire and burned it all.

It gets worse.

In nineteen fifteen, an investigator interviewed several Forsyth County residents about what happened back in October nineteen twelve.

One of those investigators interviewed a white farmer who told him this old man Roper, had a black man he well nigh couldn't live without.

Knew every stone and stump on the farm.

The boys warned him time and again to get rid of him, but Roper would keep him on.

So one night they just had to put a stick of dynamite under the black men's house.

No, it didn't kill him, but it started him for Hall County, right smart, I reckon they won't be back.

You see, the young fellers are growing up sort of with the idea that this is a white man's county, a white man's county that was the goal, and they were hell bent on achieving it, even if it meant dynamiting the home of black sharecroppers in the middle of the night.

Now, Governor Brown mostly ignored the police for help from the concerned citizens of Forsyth County.

In his response, he stated very plainly that this was a matter for local officials.

He threw them the meagerest of bones by offering a paltry fifty dollars reward for information leading to the arrest of the night Riders.

By the second or third week of October, it was all but official the work of the Night Riders was complete.

A newspaper in neighboring Lumpkin County confirmed it.

A gentleman of Forsyth County who was here last week said every Negro who lived in it was gone.

Not a single one is left to tell the tale.

The ten percent of the Forsyth County citizenry that was black had officially been reduced to by the last week of October, with the county completely purged of its black residents, preparations were being made for the executions.

At the sentencing Judge Morris highlighted two preconditions for the double hanging of Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel.

Number one, it must take place no further than one mile from the county courthouse.

And number two, the hanging must be a private affair witnessed only by guards, clergy, doctors, and relatives of the victims.

With these two conditions in place, he authorized Sheriff William Reid to manage all the logistics leading up to October twenty fifth.

Sheriff Reed was eager to get started.

His first order of business was identifying the ideal location for the double hanging.

It didn't take him long.

Less than a mile from the court house, he found the perfect spot, a pasture owned by a local doctor.

As Reid surveyed the site, he eyed the gently sloping hills surrounding the field on three sides.

It would later become evident what Sheriff Reed saw that day not a pasture, but a venue.

Next the issue of privacy, Reid had a plan.

The gallows would be constructed at the center of the meadow, and around that he'd built a wall that would block the gaze of spectators.

Within hours, timber was purchased and woodworkers from all around forsythe county were summoned Their job was to build a wall fifteen feet tall in a square formation around the scaffolding.

For days, the sounds of hammers and saws filled the air, but as the men worked, they noticed the eyes peering, staring and looking down at them from the surrounding hills.

The locals were watching, and they didn't like what they saw.

By October twenty fourth, everything was ready.

Word was sent to Atlanta to transport the two condemned prisoners north for the second time in a month.

Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel were summoned from their cells and the Fulton Tower.

When they were escorted outside, they were met again by the sight of several hundred armed troops from Georgia's Fifth Regiment.

Like before, they'd march through the streets of Atlanta to Terminal Station, where they would board a train north to Beauford.

From Beauford, they would get off the train and walk the final somber thirteen miles to the town of Coming.

By midnight, their all day odyssey was nearly complete, and about an hour the beleaguered party of Souls would set up camp on the outskirts of Coming.

But as they walked to the moonlit gravel roads.

They noticed an eerie orange glow in the distance in the direction of coming.

As they got closer, the unmistakable smell of a bonfire grew stronger.

By one thirty am, the men arrived at the designated camping spot.

As the exhausted troops set up their tents, Sheriff William Reid appeared in their midst He sought out their leader, Major I.

Catron, and delivered the unfortunate news.

Shortly before their arrival, a mob had snuck into the pasture, tore down the fence, doused the timber and kerosene, and struck a match.

Within minutes, the wall designed to block voyeuristic eyes from watching the execution, had gone up in smoke.

By sunrise of the next day, word of the fence burning had made its way to Judge Knut Morris.

Angry, he ordered chaffreed to have it rebuilt immediately.

Several hours later, Reid returned to him with bad news.

He couldn't find a man in the county who would sell him the timber he needed to rebuild the wall.

It was October twenty fifth.

The prisoners were there.

The militiamen had traveled all this way Sheriff reed strongly recommended that they proceed as planned.

Judge Morris reluctantly agreed.

By mid morning, everyone in the county had heard about what had transpired overnight, and with the wall gone, the spectacle was on.

A steady caravan of horses, wagons and cars streamed in for miles around.

Excited spectators claimed their spots in the hills surrounding the gallows.

From their elevated positions, everyone had a perfect view.

It was exactly as Sheriff William Reid had imagined.

As the anticipation grew, one witness said the mood was like a quote circus parade.

Women cradling their babies gathered in small groups and caught up on local gossip.

Teenage boys jockeyed for the best seats, and older children played tag.

Newspapers from all over the state covered the events of that day, and they reported conflicting numbers regarding the size of the crowd.

The smallest estimate was about two thousand and the largest was around five thousand.

Either way, this was a lot of people down in the pastor.

The men of the fifth Regiment were busy stringing barbed wire around the wooden gallows.

While certainly not blocking anyone's view, at least it provided a barrier between the crowds and the two young men condemned to die.

Reporters, local law enforcement, doctors, clergy, and a small number of troops were allowed inside the barbed wire enclosure.

As the executions drew closer, the anticipation grew even more.

Emboldened by his growing audience, Sheriff William Reid's true colors really began to show.

Reports from that day show that Reid's actions went far beyond the judges's orders.

He was staging a great theater where he was the director.

This was his coliseum, and he was the emperor.

We know all this thanks to the official report filed by Major Katron.

Major Katron was in charge of the fifth Regiment, so he was one of the few objective witnesses not from Forsyth County who observed everything that happened that day.

Here's what he had to say about Sheriff Reed's conduct.

He was boisterous and went out where everybody could see him.

He was constantly yelling to the people around the fence outside.

The sheriff so conducted himself that if the sentence of the court could have been carried out without him.

I would have placed him under arrest for inciting to riot.

He was openly in accord with insurrection.

He's boisterous, he's yelling, he's running back and forth like a maniac, getting everyone pumped up.

This guy is the worst.

After an hour or so of this, the time had come from the edge of the pasture, a small group of soldiers emerged.

Walking behind them were budd and Azy Crow, the parents of the murdered may Crow.

In stride behind the two parents were their eight remaining children.

The crowd grew silent as the Somber family filed through an opening in the barbed wire fence.

Directly in front of the scaffolding.

A row of tin chairs awaited them.

Next, the prisoners, Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel followed Deputy Gay Lummus up the stairs and onto the raised wooden platform.

Two nooses hung before them.

This was the moment the citizens of Forsyth County had waited for, but before the executions, in true Southern style, a moment of prayer.

Theo Wills slowly ascended the wooden steps and walked out onto the scaffolding, taking his place next to the two teenage boys.

Wills, the pastor of comings First Baptist Church, had been asked to pray for God's blessing over the proceedings.

The crowd fell silent, men removed their hats, children stood still, women bowed their heads, a bizarre moment of grace before the gore of blessing, before the blood of silence, before the slaughter.

Like Jesus theo Wills stood before a hungry crowd of five thousand.

But this crowd wasn't hungry for food, their prophet said Amen.

Once Wills exited the stage, Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel took their places atop a square shaped trapdoor cut into the raised wooden platform.

One of the most tragic aspects of this moment was how utterly alone these two guys must have felt.

No family, no advocates, no one else with their skin color who could offer a glance of shared sadness.

There were no black citizens left in Forsyth County in this horrible moment.

All they had was each other.

From author Patrick Phillips quote, the last thing Knox and Daniel saw before black sacks were placed over their heads was a hillside dotted with thousands of white faces, young and old, rich and poor, men, women and children.

Squinting into the midday sun, they would have seen the rooftops of the fine houses on Kelly Mill Road, the spires of a dozen little churches poking up through the treetops and on the edge of town, and the hazy gray distance the familiar humpbacked silhouette of Sawny Mountain Ute.

Unsurprisingly, Sheriff William Read designated himself as the executioner.

He would be the hero of this moment.

As the bells of a nearby church struck noon, Read raised a hatchet high into the air, paused, and flung it down on the rope from the Brunswick News.

As the trap was sprung by the sheriff, the crowd cheered, and the cheers lasted several minutes.

While the two forms dangled in mid air.

The crowd roared sinister approval for several minutes.

Get noted finally the people of forsythe county, had gotten exactly what they wanted.

Once the cheering faded, doctor Arnold Lindorm climbed a ladder stethoscope in hand.

At twelve eleven pm, Knox and Daniel were declared medically dead.

They were cut down and laid beneath the scaffolding.

As the two bodies were loaded into a single pine box, Sheriff William Reid climbed the same ladder and cut down the nooses Using his knife.

He began to dismember each noose, cutting them into neat one inch segments.

He then walked outside the barbed wire enclosure and began distributing the pieces to eager onlookers.

Men and boys gathered around, excited to get their hands on a souvenir physical proof that they were there.

Since there was no one to clean the bodies of Knox and Daniel, and local officials feared they might be burned, the decision was made to transport their remains to Atlanta.

Once there, the anonymous bodies were donated to a local medical college.

In the aftermath of the public executions in Forsyth County, reactions across Georgia were fairly mixed.

Some papers praised the people Forsyth for delivering justice.

Others brought the hammer, decrying the barbaric spectacles staged by Sheriff William Reid.

Governor Joseph Mackie Brown was particularly incensed, publicly calling William Read a quote jellyfish sheriff for not ensuring the privacy of the executions.

A couple weeks later, The Atlantic Constitution published a scathing rebuke of what had happened in Forsyth County.

The op ed writer proposed a new state law authorizing the governor to fire derelict local officials from the article.

Had such a law existed, the state would not have been disgraced as it now appears to have been by the sheriff of a county actually cooperating with a mob in violating the law, which stipulates that capital punishment shall be administered in private.

In this particular instance, it is evident that the official was jockeying for local political advantage.

The finer citizens agreed that this was a big black eye on the state of Georgia, and it certainly wouldn't be its last.

With the hindsight of history, it's easy now to see the utter tragedy of this whole situation.

It's multiple tragedies.

Actually, it's a tragedy that someone beat and murdered may Crow.

It's easy to overlook this in light of the injustice of the lynchings.

It's a tragedy that so many black men were terrorized with false imprisonment.

It's a tragedy that Rob Edwards was lynched by a mob without any due process.

It's a tragedy that the due process afforded to Ernest Knox and Oscar Daniel was so haphazard and hasty.

It's a tragedy that these two teenagers, likely innocent, died at the hand ends of such evil people.

And perhaps the greatest tragedy was that more than a thousand black residents of Forsyth County were violently driven off their land and from their homes in the fall of nineteen twelve one thousand, ninety eight to be exact.

While many of these victims were poor, penniless sharecroppers, some were not.

Some were successful landowners who lost so much.

Author Patrick Phillips highlights one such family, the Kelloggs.

Joseph and Eliza Kellogg, had tirelessly worked, saved, and reinvested their earnings to the point where their small family farm had grown into a sprawling two hundred acre estate at the base of Sawny Mountain.

At the time of their racial terror in nineteen twelve, the Kelloggs were the largest landowners amongst forsythe counties eleven hundred black residents.

Like the others, their land eventually fell into the hands of Forsyth's white land predators.

Per Georgia law, the process to take control of these lands was fairly simple.

All you had to do was fence in the abandoned land in question, wait a while, register a new land deed to the county clerk, pay your taxes, and wailah, it was yours.

In this way, most of the land owned by black residents was acre by acre, unethically transferred to white ownership in the local officials of Forsyth County never questioned it.

It's incredibly unjust when you think about it.

You don't believe that people of other races have the right to live here.

Once again, this is the Oprah Winfrey Show, an episode from nineteen eighty seven where she's interviewing residents of Forsyth County.

She asks the question, then extends the microphone towards a already something white lady, lots of blush, bright blue jacket, big white earrings, of the shape of triangles.

They have the right to live wherever they want.

To, but we have the right to choose if we want a white community.

Also, did you catch that she said, we have the right to choose if we want a white community.

Also, this is crazy when you think about it.

In America, a country driven by the free market, how exactly do you plan to keep your community all white without violence or threats of violence.

She's essentially saying that if a black family buys a house there, they have the right the right to run them off.

Oprah handles this with total grace.

Listen, I believe excuse me.

Why is it that there are people in this county, obviously, who are afraid of black people.

She walks across the room to interview another guy.

He stands up, tall, burly, light brown hair, and an enormous, bushy brown beard.

What is it you are afraid black people are going to do well?

I mean, that's what I'd like to know.

I'm I'm afraid of them coming to for psychany.

I lived in Atlanta.

I was born in Atlanta, and in nineteen sixty three the first blacks were bust to Westfold and Nice Scale.

And I go down there now and I see my neighborhood and my community which was a nice community and nice neighborhood, and now it's nothing but a red infested slum area because they don't care.

They don't care.

Thank you.

The crowd collapse.

He takes his seat.

Now sent up, what said you know, you know Hopeh's not having it?

He stands back up.

Do you mean they us the entire black race, the entire black race X and you have niggers here we go.

All white people in the South have heard this argument.

By the way, what's the difference between a black person and the nigger?

To you, I've talked to black people.

Black people.

They don't want to come up here.

They don't want to cause any trouble.

That's a black person, and nigg wants to come up here in college trouble all the time.

That's the difference.

That's the difference.

He says.

I've got to admit Oprah's composure in the face of these bigots is pretty amazing.

Later in the clip, a narrator says that Oprah and her crew made sure to be out of the county before sundown.

And this all this leaves me wondering, is it possible that the horrifying events of nineteen twelve spawned these vile comments seventy five years later.

Also, if none of the accused black men of Forsyth County killed may Crow, then who did?

And would they kill again?

And finally, as nineteen twelve turns to nineteen thirteen, what would happen when some of Forsyth Counties exiled black residents attempted to move back.

We're going to answer those questions, wrap up this story and kick off story number three that's next time on Catlic.

Catolic is recorded in Atlanta's historic Cabbagetown neighborhood.

Executive producer walnut Ridge Harmon.

Original music and sound design by Doucey l Cover art by Rachel Eleanor Catolic store manager Brett Harmon.

Catolic Instagram Follower of the Week, Cody L.

Thomas, Catholic Instagram Promoter of the Week, Paula jay Lange Catolic Hater of the Week Shelley B.

One two nine, who says the podcast would be way better without BT's quote politically correct preachiness end quote.

Shelley B.

One two nine, Thanks for listening, and please remember that retelling and talking about stories of injustice from the past has absolutely nothing to do with politics or being politically correct.

Catlic Apple Podcasts reviewer of the week Julia Geese, who says, quote Catlic is a captivating podcast that any enthusiast of history, true crime, civil rights, and Atlanta should listen to.

It always leaves me on the edge of my seat.

His dedication to telling the truth on the matter and not romanticizing Atlanta's or America's past is what people need to hear.

Enquote, It's more like it.

Oprah Audio comes from the Oprah Winfrey Network and used via fair Use.

Be sure to check out oprah dot com to hear the full clip.

Did you know there are already or bonus many episodes waiting for you inside the vault.

It's true.

We've got one on the Atlanta race rite of nineteen oh six, one on the art Heist of the Century, one on the Mystery of the Headless Torso, and our latest, which dives into the shady history of Southern night writers.

Now these are all premium episodes just for Catholic Vault subscribers.

Hundreds of other Catholic fans have already gotten their vault, and I'd like to invite you to join them.

Just go Tocatlic dot com and click on vault.

That's catlic dot com.

Vault.

One more time, that's catlic dot com.

Just click on the button that says fault.

And finally, Catolic is independently written and produced him me bt Harmon.

Signing off, I'd like to remind you to save old buildings, build bike lanes, and vote for public trains.

We'll see you in the next episode.