Tennessee artist brings little-known but historic Thurgood Marshall trial to life
No one knows exactly who fired the shots.
But on a cold February night in 1946, an angry mob threatened the black business district in Columbia, Tenn., and the violence that ensued caught the attention of the entire country.
Six white men, including four officers, were hit. More than 100 black men were arrested.
And, as the result of urgent calls from scared community members, future U.S. Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall traveled from New York to join renowned Nashville attorney Z. Alexander Looby along the rural backroads of Tennessee in search of justice.
In a historic civil rights case long forgotten, they fought for the freedom of 25 black men indicted for attempted murder and tried in front of an all-white jury.
Seven decades later, at a time when many communities around the country are grappling with whether to remove Confederate statues and memorials that represent a divisive time in history, a small town in Tennessee is taking steps to honor African-American leaders.
The little-known but important trial will be commemorated with a new piece of art by Bernice Davidson. The painting will be housed at the Lawrence County Courthouse and will travel to schools and churches throughout the community.
“I hate what’s going on in our country right now and the division we have,” Lawrence County Executive T.R. Williams said. “And to have something that our county’s been a part of — something that actually has justice — it’s totally the opposite of what we are seeing in our culture today.
“I never understood segregation, and I never understood racism. I think this painting will bring awareness. The story deserves recognition.”
Soldiers in the Jim Crow South
The uprising is known as a riot to some, a rebellion to others.
It began as a disagreement over a broken radio at a Castner-Knott electrical appliance shop on Main Street in Columbia.
In the 1940s, Columbia was a town of 12,000 people, located in Maury County 45 miles south of Nashville. A region rich in horse farming and large plantations, the county’s edges were rimmed by the properties of poor white farmers.
It also served as home to a small community of black families who formed their own residential and business district known by the county’s white residents as “Mink Slide.”
In 1946, shortly after the end of World War II, black soldiers had just returned home to the Jim Crow South. They had become accustomed to equality and fair treatment in the military and hoped to find new acceptance and acknowledgment of their freedoms.
But, in Tennessee, segregation and prejudice still flared.
Accounts from newspaper articles across the country detailed the events as they were later described by witnesses and in court proceedings.
Riots and arrests
Gladys Stephenson, a black woman from Columbia, went to pick up her broken radio around midmorning on Feb. 25, 1946. As she collected the item, she had a disagreement with the store repairman William Fleming, a white man.
Fleming reportedly slapped Stephenson. In retaliation, Stephenson’s son, a 19-year-old Navy veteran who had accompanied her to the store, pushed Fleming, who crashed through the store window.
Fleming was not seriously injured, but it was the beginning of a significant racial clash. By evening, both Stephensons were in jail and a white mob gathered outside to condemn them. Police moved the Stephensons secretly to safety, but the angry crowd found a different target, converging on Mink Slide.
Many of the black men armed themselves and stood guard. And, as the threat grew, shots were fired, whether for retaliation or aggression it is not known.
Four white officers were hit and a violent clash ensued. Plate glass windows were shattered and grocery produce was thrown from shelves as people scrambled for safety from flying bullets.
Word of the chaos spread quickly across the state. Fearing more brutality, Tennessee’s governor ordered action.
By daybreak, 100 highway patrolmen and 500 members of the State Guard walked the streets, seizing weapons. More than 100 African-Americans — a substantial portion of the black male population of Columbia — were incarcerated in the Maury County Jail. As the dust settled, 68 black men remained, held on charges ranging from disorderly conduct to assault with attempt to commit murder.
Only two white men were arrested. They were quickly released.
The FBI was called in to investigate. And the NAACP provided four defense lawyers, including the young man named Thurgood Marshall who would later change history many times over.
Painting injustice and horrible tragedy
Though buried in the history books, the story of the decades-old trial captured the attention of a Lawrence County artist who has dedicated her life to pieces that illustrate social injustices.
A vibrant woman with spunky silver hair, bright pink-rimmed glasses and a tie-dyed painting smock, Davidson has been a teaching artist and activist for decades.
A graduate of Yale and longtime professor at Martin Methodist College, she paints scenes from lynchings and the Trail of Tears, calling attention not only to injustice and tragedy but also to the heroes and leaders who stand for change.
“I was very reluctant at first,” she says, her bright eyes darkening for a minute. “No one wants to think about this.”
But, at a period in modern history when race continues to be at the forefront of many conversations, the trial offered an early glimpse of two lawyers — Marshall and Looby — who would win national recognition a decade later in a battle against segregation.
Davidson felt that was important, particularly now.
“It’s a really heavy time, isn’t it?” she reflects, sitting on the couch of her sun-filled home art studio in Summertown, Tenn. “It’s a time we never imagined.”
In ways, she says, it’s like the former days of civil rights struggles revisited.
“I thought we resolved this already,” she says.
Rural roots of justice
Marshall’s most famous legal case, Brown v. Board of Education, was still to come.
He would strike down the principle of “separate but equal” in American education, secure the desegregation of schools and go on to become a revered justice of the U.S. Supreme Court.
All starting with the rural roots in a fight for justice.
Marshall first built a case for abatement, positioning that a fair trial could not be held in front of an all-white jury. Looby questioned more than 200 black men — most of whom were businessmen in Columbia — to demonstrate that none had ever been called for jury duty.
“For a half-century, Negroes have been denied their rights, it has become a tradition,” Looby told the court. “… I am trying to show that the custom is to segregate the races, and that service on juries would necessarily bring them together, and that is the reason they are excluded.”
After a month of testimony, the judge approved the defense’s motion for a change of venue. But in a surprise move, he chose a county favored by the prosecution.
The trial would be held in Lawrence County, south of Maury County, near the Alabama state line.
Unexpected outcome
The defense team balked. Lawrence County was a place where black men and women were not permitted to eat in any of the town’s restaurants or use the water fountain in the courthouse.
But Marshall’s team was prudent and determined in their quest for justice. They pressed on.
This time, a few black men were called to be part of the jury, but none were selected. Instead, a group of white men would decide the fate of the 25 defendants.
Spectators in the courtroom hurled insults and threats at the attorneys. Marshall fell ill, hospitalized in New York and unable to attend most of the trial. Looby took the lead.
And, on Oct. 4, after all arguments had been presented, lawyers on both sides were shocked when all but two of the 25 black men were acquitted.
The two others, William Pillow and Lloyd Kennedy, were charged with attempting to murder Tennessee Highway Patrolman Ray Austin during February’s racial disturbances.
In a separate trial, which took place back in Maury County in November, Pillow was acquitted. Kennedy was convicted but served only four months in jail before being pardoned by the governor.
A place in history
Davidson named her painting “Justice Served.”
On the left side sits a collection of black men, the accused. On the right, an all-white jury to judge them.
A troubled mom and a scared girl are in the forefront. Angels, those who had fallen victim to racial violence, watch from overhead. Gladys Stephenson, the woman whose broken radio sparked the riots, sits on the witness stand.
And in the middle stands Looby, arms outstretched, making a case for justice.
For Davidson, the art serves as a way to heal divides and unite the community.
“I want to take something unjust in the world,” she says, “and help people understand what is right.”