riot. The Sheriff had to calm things down, so they could implement their ultimate plan of killing Deron.
The first people that the Sheriff and Junior approached were the white people.
“Sheriff, what you going to do with these niggers shooting our boys up?” asked a local white man.
“Yeah, Sheriff, you can’t let these niggers get away with this,” said another white man.
Then, Mama Brooks weaved her way through the crowd. “Sheriff, please let my boys and my husband and Mr. Stevens go. They didn’t do anything.”
Junior was holding out his arms to separate the blacks from the whites and to protect his father.
“Wait!” The Sheriff shouted as he threw up both hands into the air. “Everyone back away.” He walked up to the top of the police station’s stairs and turned around to face the crowd. “Now, everyone calm down,” he ordered. “A tragedy happened last night, and we are investigating it.” He now directed his gaze to the white side of the crowd, spoke sternly, and pointed his finger at them. “Y’all need to go home right now. I can assure you that we are investigating the crime, and I can assure you that the people responsible will be properly punished.”
“Sheriff, you already have the niggers who did this in custody,” said the original white man who spoke. “What else do you have to do?”
“No, no, no,” repeated Mama Brooks. “My boys did not do this. They tried to hang my boy.”
“Bull shit!” shouted another white man.
“Stop it!” shouted the Sheriff. “All of you.”
“I’m not leaving until you release my family,” ordered Mama Brooks.
The Sheriff sighed. “Excuse me,” said the Sheriff while looking at Mama Brooks with a threatening look. “Look, your family has been arrested for the murders of three white men. You are in no condition to make demands on me.”
The Sheriff saw the state trooper and Goldstein pull up and get out of their cars. There was another person that pulled up and got out that had a camera. Oh no, thought the Sheriff. The other guy must be the Austin newspaper reporter.
Mama Brooks continued with her demands. “Sheriff, I’m not leaving until you release them.”
The Sheriff could see the newspaper guy taking pictures. Then he handed the camera to Goldstein, so the newspaper guy could take notes from his pad of paper that he pulled out.
“Well, then, you could be here for a long time,” the Sheriff replied to the Mama Brooks.
“Sheriff, don’t take shit from her,” said another white man from the crowd.
The Sheriff whispered to Junior. “Junior, go inside and tell Henderson to have someone get the noose and torch from the crime scene, and make sure someone is out there to guard the crime scene from now on.”
“Even at night?” asked Junior.
“Yes, even at night.”
Junior went inside, and the Sheriff turned back to the crowd. He figured his best strategy was to get rid of the white people first. They would listen to him because most, if not all of them, knew he was a powerful Klan leader. While looking at the white portion of the crowd, he said, “I’m not going to tell you again, but you better get your asses out of here in the next ten seconds. I can assure you that we are going to find the people responsible and punish them. Now, get out of here, right now.”
The white people hesitantly started to disembark. The Sheriff’s message must have gotten through because none of them said anything as they left the area.
The Sheriff patiently waited until the white crowd finally dispersed. He then turned to the black crowd. He wanted to pacify them for now—so the Klan could complete their mission. “Look, we will make a decision tomorrow whether we are going to press charges on your family,” the Sheriff said while looking at Mama Brooks. “We have forty-eight hours to decide and it only has been less then twenty-four hours.”
“Sheriff, Leon didn’t do anything,” pleaded Mama Brooks. “He was a
The first people that the Sheriff and Junior approached were the white people.
“Sheriff, what you going to do with these niggers shooting our boys up?” asked a local white man.
“Yeah, Sheriff, you can’t let these niggers get away with this,” said another white man.
Then, Mama Brooks weaved her way through the crowd. “Sheriff, please let my boys and my husband and Mr. Stevens go. They didn’t do anything.”
Junior was holding out his arms to separate the blacks from the whites and to protect his father.
“Wait!” The Sheriff shouted as he threw up both hands into the air. “Everyone back away.” He walked up to the top of the police station’s stairs and turned around to face the crowd. “Now, everyone calm down,” he ordered. “A tragedy happened last night, and we are investigating it.” He now directed his gaze to the white side of the crowd, spoke sternly, and pointed his finger at them. “Y’all need to go home right now. I can assure you that we are investigating the crime, and I can assure you that the people responsible will be properly punished.”
“Sheriff, you already have the niggers who did this in custody,” said the original white man who spoke. “What else do you have to do?”
“No, no, no,” repeated Mama Brooks. “My boys did not do this. They tried to hang my boy.”
“Bull shit!” shouted another white man.
“Stop it!” shouted the Sheriff. “All of you.”
“I’m not leaving until you release my family,” ordered Mama Brooks.
The Sheriff sighed. “Excuse me,” said the Sheriff while looking at Mama Brooks with a threatening look. “Look, your family has been arrested for the murders of three white men. You are in no condition to make demands on me.”
The Sheriff saw the state trooper and Goldstein pull up and get out of their cars. There was another person that pulled up and got out that had a camera. Oh no, thought the Sheriff. The other guy must be the Austin newspaper reporter.
Mama Brooks continued with her demands. “Sheriff, I’m not leaving until you release them.”
The Sheriff could see the newspaper guy taking pictures. Then he handed the camera to Goldstein, so the newspaper guy could take notes from his pad of paper that he pulled out.
“Well, then, you could be here for a long time,” the Sheriff replied to the Mama Brooks.
“Sheriff, don’t take shit from her,” said another white man from the crowd.
The Sheriff whispered to Junior. “Junior, go inside and tell Henderson to have someone get the noose and torch from the crime scene, and make sure someone is out there to guard the crime scene from now on.”
“Even at night?” asked Junior.
“Yes, even at night.”
Junior went inside, and the Sheriff turned back to the crowd. He figured his best strategy was to get rid of the white people first. They would listen to him because most, if not all of them, knew he was a powerful Klan leader. While looking at the white portion of the crowd, he said, “I’m not going to tell you again, but you better get your asses out of here in the next ten seconds. I can assure you that we are going to find the people responsible and punish them. Now, get out of here, right now.”
The white people hesitantly started to disembark. The Sheriff’s message must have gotten through because none of them said anything as they left the area.
The Sheriff patiently waited until the white crowd finally dispersed. He then turned to the black crowd. He wanted to pacify them for now—so the Klan could complete their mission. “Look, we will make a decision tomorrow whether we are going to press charges on your family,” the Sheriff said while looking at Mama Brooks. “We have forty-eight hours to decide and it only has been less then twenty-four hours.”
“Sheriff, Leon didn’t do anything,” pleaded Mama Brooks. “He was a
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