Civil Rights Events

Emmett Till -- Part Two

 

The town was rife with talk about the incident at Bryant's store. On Friday, August 26, Carolyn's husband Roy returned from Texas, where he had been hauling shrimp.  That afternoon at his store, a young black customer told Roy Bryant what "the talk" was all about, and identified a visiting teenager from Chicago as the offender.  …  Returning home, Roy asked Carolyn if there was something she wanted to tell him.  Her denial angered Roy, and he demanded to hear his wife's version of what had happened inside the store.  She told him the version of events she would later repeat in his trial.

 

Bryant's half-brother, John W. Milam, readily agreed to help.  The two men operated businesses together, played cards together, drank together, and were described in the [2004] FBI's investigation as being "particularly close." According to historian Hugh Whitaker, who interviewed dozens of Mississippians who knew Bryant and Milam, the two "were invariably referred to as 'peckerwoods,' 'white trash,' and other terms of disappropriation" (Linder 3). 

 

William Bradford Huie’s account of Emmett Till’s abduction from Preacher Wright’s house August 24, 1955, was based on information he had gathered from Till’s abductors and the black occupants of Wright’s house.

 

The Negroes drove away; and Carolyn [Bryant], shaken, told [her sister-in-law] Juanita [Milam]. The two women determined to keep the incident from their "Men-folks." They didn't tell J. W. Milam when he came to escort them home.

 

By Thursday afternoon, Carolyn Bryant could see the story was getting around. She spent Thursday night at the Milams, where at 4 a.m. (Friday) Roy got back from Texas. Since he had slept little for five nights, he went to bed at the Milams' while Carolyn returned to the store.

 

During Friday afternoon, Roy reached the store, and shortly thereafter a Negro told him what "the talk" was, and told him that the "Chicago boy" was "visitin' Preacher." Carolyn then told Roy what had happened.

 

Once Roy Bryant knew, in his environment, in the opinion of most white people around him, for him to have done nothing would have marked him for a coward and a fool.

 

On Friday night, he couldn't do anything. He and Carolyn were alone, and he had no car. Saturday was collection day, their busy day in the store. About 10:30 Saturday night, J. W. Milam drove by. Roy took him aside.

 

They agreed to find Till and take him away.

 

J. W. "Big Milam" is 36: six feet two, 235 pounds; an extrovert. Short boots accentuate his height; khaki trousers; red sports shirt; sun helmet. Dark-visaged; his lower lip curls when he chuckles; and though bald, his remaining hair is jet-black.

 

He is slavery's plantation overseer. Today, he rents Negro-driven mechanical cotton pickers to plantation owners. Those who know him say that he can handle Negroes better than anybody in the country.

 

Big Milam soldiered in the Patton manner. With a ninth-grade education, he was commissioned in battle by the 75th Division. He was an expert platoon leader, expert street fighter, expert in night patrol, expert with the "grease gun," with every device for close range killing. A German bullet tore clear through his chest; his body bears "multiple shrapnel wounds." Of his medals, he cherishes one: combat infantryman's badge.

 

Big Milam, like many soldiers, brought home his favorite gun: the .45 Colt automatic pistol.

 

"Best weapon the Army's got," he says. "Either for shootin' or sluggin'."

 

Big Milam reached Money a few minutes shy of 2 a.m., Sunday, August 28. The Bryants were asleep; the store was dark but for the all-night light. He rapped at the back door, and when Roy came, he said: "Let's go. Let's make that trip now."

 

Roy dressed, brought a gun: this one was a .45 Colt. Both men were and remained -- cold sober. Big Milam had drunk a beer at Minter City around 9; Roy had had nothing.

 

There was no moon as they drove to Preacher's house: 2.8 miles east of Money.

 

Preacher's house stands 50 feet right of the gravel road, with cedar and persimmon trees in the yard. Big Milam drove the pickup in under the trees. He was bareheaded, carrying a five-cell flashlight in his left hand, the .45 in the right.

 

Roy Bryant pounded on the door.

 

Preacher: "Who's that?"

 

Bryant: "Mr. Bryant from Money, Preacher."

 

Preacher: "All right, sir. Just a minute."

 

Preacher came out of the screened-in porch.

 

Bryant: "Preacher, you got a boy from Chicago here?"

 

Preacher: "Yessir."

 

Bryant: "I want to talk to him."

 

Preacher: "Yessir. I'll get him."

 

Preacher led them to a back bedroom where four youths were sleeping in two beds. In one was Bobo Till and Simeon Wright, Preacher's youngest son. Bryant had told Preacher to turn on the lights; Preacher had said they were out of order. So only the flashlight was used.

 

The visit was not a complete surprise. Preacher testified that he had heard of the "trouble," that he "sho' had" talked to his nephew about it. Bobo himself had been afraid; he had wanted to go home the day after the incident. The Negro girl in the party urged that he leave. "They'll kill him," she had warned. But Preacher's wife, Elizabeth Wright, had decided that the danger was being magnified; she had urged Bobo to "finish yo' visit."

 

"I thought they might say something to him, but I didn't think they'd kill a boy," Preacher said.

 

Big Milam shined the light in Bobo's face, said: "You the nigger who did the talking?"

 

"Yeah," Bobo replied.

 

Milam: "Don't say, 'Yeah' to me: I'll blow your head off. Get your clothes on."

 

Bobo had been sleeping in his shorts. He pulled on a shirt and trousers, then reached for his socks.

 

"Just the shoes," Milam hurried him.

 

"I don't wear shoes without socks," Bobo said: and he kept the gun-bearers waiting while he put on his socks, then a pair of canvas shoes with thick crepe soles.

 

Preacher and his wife tried two arguments in the boy's behalf.

 

"He ain't got good sense," Preacher begged. "He didn't know what he was doing. Don't take him."

 

"I'll pay you gentlemen for the damages," Elizabeth Wright said.

 

"You niggers go back to sleep," Milam replied.

 

They marched him into the yard, told him to get in the back of the pickup and lie down. He obeyed. They drove toward Money.

 

Elizabeth Wright rushed to the home of a white neighbor, who got up, looked around, but decided he could do nothing. Then, she and Preacher drove to the home of her brother, Crosby Smith, at Sumner; and Crosby Smith, on Sunday morning, went to the sheriff's office at Greenwood.

 

The other young Negroes stayed at Preacher's house until daylight, when Wheeler Parker telephoned his mother in Chicago, who in turn notified Bobo's mother, Mamie Bradley, 33, 6427 S. St. Lawrence.

 

Their intention was to "just whip him... and scare some sense into him" (Huie 6-10).

 

According to Hugh Whitaker, master’s thesis student at Florida State, Milam had threatened Preacher Wright.

 

Milam asked Wright if he knew anybody there.  Wright replied, “No, Sir.  I don’t know you.”   

 

Milam: “How old are you?”

 

 Wright: “Sixty-four.”

           

Milam: “Well, if you know any of us here tonight, then you will never live to get to be sixty-five” (Whitaker 1).     

 

Simeon Wright, Emmett Till’s cousin, gave a different account.

 

When [my father] opened the door, he saw two white men standing on the porch.  One of them - J. W. Milam, we would learn later – was tall, thickset, and balding; he had a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other.  The second man was almost as tall but not as heavy; he was the one who had spoken, Roy Bryant.  A third man stood behind Bryant, hiding his face from Dad.  Dad believed he was a black man, someone who knew us.

 

The white men entered the house through our front guest room, where Wheeler and Maurice were sleeping.  Dad woke Wheeler up first.  Milam told Dad that Wheeler was not the boy he was looking for; he was looking for the fat boy from Chicago.  Then I heard loud talking in my bedroom.

 

In my half-conscious state, I had no idea what was going on.  Was I dreaming? Or was it a nightmare? Why were these white men in our bedroom at this hour?  I rubbed my eyes and then shielded them, trying to see beyond the glare of the flashlight.  The balding man ordered me to go back to sleep.

 

Dad had to shake Bobo for quite a while to wake him up.  When he finally awoke, the balding man told Bobo to get up and put his clothes on.  It was then that I realized they had come to take him away.  It wasn’t clear to me what was going on and why they wanted just him.  At first I thought they had come to send him back to Chicago, but that didn’t make sense at all.

 

I was lying there, frozen stiff and not moving, when my mother rushed into the room.  She began pleading with the men not to take Bobo.  I could hear the fear in her voice.  She broke into a mixture of pleas and tears as she practically prayed for Bobo, asking the men not to harm him.  The men ignored her, urging Bobo to hurry up and get dressed.  He was still somewhat groggy and rubbing his eyes, but he quickly obeyed.  My mother then offered them some money not to take Bobo away.  I was now fully awake but still not moving.  It was now crystal clear to me that these men were up to no good.  They had come for Bobo, and no amount of begging, pleading, or payment was going to stop them.  Although Dad had two shotguns in his closet, the 12-gauge and a .410, he never tried to get them.  If Dad had made a break for his guns, none of us would be alive today.  I believe Milam and Bryant were prepared to kill us all at the slightest provocation.  I am glad that Dad didn’t do anything to put us all in danger.

 

Suddenly, the same panic I had felt after Bobo had whistled at Mrs. Bryant returned, and it was all I could do to stop trembling with fear, realizing that Bobo was not only in trouble but in grave danger.  My fear soon escalated into terror, and I was still frozen stiff in my bed, unable to move or to say anything.  My mother’s pleas continued as the men pushed the now-dressed Bobo from the room.  Bobo left that room without saying one word.  There is no way I could have done that.  Everyone along Dark Fear Road would have heard my screams.

 

At the time I didn’t know what happened next, but according to my dad, the men took Bobo out to a car or truck that was waiting in the darkness.  One of the men asked someone inside the vehicle if this was the right boy, and Dad said he heard a women’s voice respond that it was.  Then the men drove off with Bobo, toward Money....(Wright 1).

 

Author Douglas O. Linder presented a third narrative.

 

On the evening of the 27th, Bryant and Milam, along with Carolyn Bryant and Johnny Washington (a black man who performed odd jobs for Bryant) set off in a pickup looking for their target.  Spotting a black teenager walking home with some molasses and snuff, Bryant ordered Washington to throw the boy in the back of the truck, and Washington did so.  When Carolyn emerged from the truck to tell Bryant, "That's not the nigger! That's not the one!", Bryant ordered Washington to throw him out the truck.  The teenager landed head first, losing his front teeth.

 

Within the next few hours, Bryant and Milam somehow learned that the wolf-whistler was staying at the home of "Preacher" Moses Wright.  At 2:30 a.m., a vehicle with headlights off pulled up in front of Wright's home east of Money.  Till and his relations had arrived home after a night of drinking and looking for girls in Greenwood, Mississippi, but were asleep when a voice called out, "Preacher, Preacher!"  When Wright went to the door, the man identified himself as Roy Bryant and said that he wanted to talk to "a fat boy" from Chicago.  Standing on the porch with Bryant were Milam and a black man, hiding his face, who (according to his own later admission) was Otha Johnson, Milam's odd-job man.  The men searched the occupied beds looking for Till.  Coming to Till's bed, Milam shined a flashlight in the boy's face and asked, "You the niggah that did the talking down at Money?"  When Till answered, "Yeah," Milam said, "Don't say 'yeah' to me, niggah.  I'll blow your head off.  Get your clothes on."  Warning the Wrights they'd be killed if they told anyone they had come by, Milam and Wright ushered Till out of the house and to their parked vehicle.  Standing on the porch looking out into the dark, Moses Wright heard a woman's voice--possibly Carolyn Bryant's--from inside the vehicle tell the abductors they had found the right boy (Linder 14)

 

Works cited:

 

Huie, William Bradford. “The Shocking Story of Approved Killing in Mississippi.”  Look, January 1956.  Web.  <http://famous-trials.com/legacyftrials/till/confession.html.>

 

Linder, Douglas O.  “The Emmett Till Murder Trial: An Account.”  2012.  Web.  <http://famous-trials.com/legacyftrials/till/tillaccount.html.>

 

Whitaker, Hugh.  “Two Accounts of the Abduction of Emmett ("Bobo") Till.”  A Case Study in Southern Justice: The Emmett Till Case.  Web.   < http://famous-trials.com/legacyftrials/till/abduction.html. >

 

Wright, Simeon.  “Two Accounts of the Abduction of Emmett ("Bobo") Till.”  Web.  http://famous-trials.com/legacyftrials/till/abduction.html.