Contempt of Court: The Turn-of-the-Century Lynching That Launched a Hundred Years of Federalism - Brossura

Curriden, Mark; Phillips, Leroy

Brossura

ISBN 10: 0385720823 ISBN 13: 9780385720823

Casa editrice: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group, 2001

Riassunto

In this profound and fascinating book, the authors revisit an overlooked Supreme Court decision that changed forever how justice is carried out in the United States.
In 1906, Ed Johnson was the innocent black man found guilty of the brutal rape of Nevada Taylor, a white woman, and sentenced to die in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Two black lawyers, not even part of the original defense, appealed to the Supreme Court for a stay of execution, and the stay, incredibly, was granted. Frenzied with rage at the decision, locals responded by lynching Johnson, and what ensued was a breathtaking whirlwind of groundbreaking legal action whose import, Thurgood Marshall would claim, "has never been fully explained." Provocative, thorough, and gripping, Contempt of Court is a long-overdue look at events that clearly depict the peculiar and tenuous relationship between justice and the law.

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Informazioni sull?autore

Mark Curriden holds a B.A. in history from Tennessee Temple University and a J.D. from the Woodrow Wilson Law School in Atlanta. He’s a senior writer at ABA Journal and at the Texas Lawbook. He’s written for the Dallas Morning News as well as the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, and was the Writer in Residence at the SMU Dedman School of Law.
 
Leroy Phillips Jr. was born in Cattanooga in 1935 and graduated from the University of Tennessee College of Law in 1960. He practiced law for 44 years before retiring in 2005. His book, Contempt of Court, co-authored with Mark Curriden, won the American Bar Associations Silver Gavel Award for excellence in media and the arts in 2000. He died in 2011.

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Contempt of Court

The Turn-Of-The-Century Lynching That Launched 100 Years of FederalismBy Mark Curriden

Anchor Books

Copyright © 2001 Mark Curriden
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780385720823

Chapter One

A PLEA FOR JUSTICE

ON MARCH 17, 1906, Noah Walter Parden stood at the steps of the U.S.Capitol in Washington, D.C. It was early Saturday morning, barelydawn. The temperature was cold, just above freezing. The fog wasthick and thc rain intermittent. He could barely see the top of thedome.

    With a colleague at his side, Parden marched up ninety-five marblesteps. He was about to do something no black man had ever donein the United States: argue a case before a justice on the United StatesSupreme Court.

    The heavy metal door was already open. Inside, armed securityguards searched the two men and their briefcases for weapons;sidearms were specifically prohibited. The security officers recognizedParden's companion and did not stand in their way any longer. Themen made their way through a maze of hallways and spiraling stairways.

    Finally, room 38. Offices of the U.S. Supreme Court.

    They were directed to a waiting room for people desiring to seethe justices on the days when the Court was not in session. The roomdoubled as a robing area for the justices when the Court heard arguments.Adjacent to the courtroom, the waiting room was basically along, elaborate hallway. The walls were marble. Three large windowsabout eight feet apart extended from the floor to the ceiling twentyfeet above. Against the left wall in the middle of the room was a fireplace.Two padded couches and six leather chairs lined the walls.Paintings of past justices hung between windows. The Supreme Courthad moved into this area of the Capitol, commonly referred to as theOld Senate Chamber, in 1860, when the Senate moved to its moreplush, expanded chambers down the hall.

    At one side of this hall were two desks, from which three womenanswered the telephone, took messages, made appointments, processedpaperwork, and accepted court briefs. They also served as gatekeepersto whoever sat in the next room.

    Parden introduced himself and his co-counsel, prominent blackWashington, D.C., lawyer Emanuel D. Molyneaux Hewlett, to thereceptionist. The lawyer explained they had called ahead about animportant case from Tennessee that required immediate consideration.A man's life was at stake, he said. They had filed the necessarypaperwork the day before and were told to return this day to answerany questions the Court might have in determining the request. Thesecretary nodded, jotted down their names, and pointed the two mentoward a couch in the middle of the hallway.

    The wait was long. Parden's hands trembled as beads of sweatoutlined his receding hairline. His dark-gray suit and white shirt hadbeen perfectly pressed, but his shoes were damp from walking nineblocks in the rain. He had come 700 miles by rail in hopes of findingmercy and justice, in hopes of saving his client from a horribledeath. Back home, Ed Johnson sat in a jail cell, hours away from anappointment with a hangman's gallows. The folks back in Tennesseewere thirsty for blood. They demanded that punishment bedelivered.

    But Parden knew the truth: Ed Johnson was innocent. His clienthad not raped the young lady. He was at least a mile away at the timeof the vicious crime. A dozen witnesses were his alibi. Despite this,Johnson had been arrested, convicted, and condemned to die.

    Three different state and federal courts had rejected Parden'sefforts to appeal. He claimed he had overwhelming evidence to showthat his client had not gotten a fair trial. The defendant was merely anuneducated Negro laborer who had been railroaded by a judge and asheriff who were more interested in getting re-elected than in administeringjustice.

    With the clock ticking on Johnson's life, the race was on. Authoritiesback in Chattanooga were rushing to get the noose around Johnson'sneck; Parden was hustling to intercept the executioners. Thistruly was Parden's court of last resort. There were no more appeals, nomore emancipators with whom to plead. If this attempt failed, Godwould have turned his back on Johnson.

All morning, people came and went from the office. I spent a great portion of that day praying, studying my legal application, and praying some more.

Mr. Hewlett and I were the only Negroes present, except for the man handing out towels in the bathroom. He sure seemed surprised when I walked in. He looked at my new suit and new shoes and just smiled. Never had I felt so far away from home.

I was afraid to leave the couch even to get a drink of water or lunch. I didn't want them to call for me and I not [to] be there.

As the day expired, I prepared my soul for failure. Then I convinced myself this effort required nothing short of a miracle. It was late in the evening and I had all but given up. I folded my hands and asked God for guidance on how to tell Ed Johnson's family that I had failed.

    Parden read and reread his court briefs. He practiced what he wouldsay and how he would say it. But would he even get the chance? It hadbeen years since the nation's highest court had stayed an execution orreversed a murder conviction. And no one could remember a singleblack man the justices had ever saved from the gallows. If getting on thedocket was a long shot, obtaining a favorable ruling was unthinkable.

    The intermittent rain only dampened his spirits further. As ifpreparing to accept his failure, the black lawyer folded his hands andbowed his head as he had been taught at the orphanage where he grewup. He begged God for mercy and for strength.

    Many back home in Chattanooga believed Parden had missed histrue calling. He often sounded more like a preacher than a lawyer. Andsometimes he seemed like both. But no one doubted his ability topractice law. Having graduated at the top of his class, Parden knew thewords in the law books by memory, and he felt the spirit of the law inhis soul. He fought vigorously for his clients. Parden was so zealousthat he made very few friends at the courthouse. Prosecutors oftenreferred to him as a "troublemaker."

    White lawyers believed that Parden was too emotional, that hetook defeat in the courtroom too personally. The black lawyer was frequentlyseen kneeling in the back of the courtroom praying with hisclients before a court hearing or crying with the family of a client whohad been sentenced to prison. Many attorneys considered such conductunbecoming an officer of the court. And the judges felt he wastoo young, too inexperienced to challenge their decision-making inopen court and in subsequent appeals.

    Their concerns and objections, of course, were less about who hewas or what he did than about the color of his skin.

    "What can a Negro lawyer know that a white lawyer does not?" thetrial judge in the Johnson case had asked him. "Do you think a Negrolawyer could possibly be smarter or know the law better than a whitelawyer?"

    Yet Parden enjoyed true success in the courtroom. He won scoresof jury verdicts for his clients that were deemed unachievable by otherattorneys. "Even though he's black and they're white, Noah Pardendevelops a bond with a jury faster than any lawyer I have ever seen," awhite lawyer told a newspaper. "He makes jurors like him and trusthim, and in return, they like and trust his client."

    Indeed, Parden was such an extraordinary speaker that even hiswife believed God had called him to be a preacher. His voice could bepowerful. His words were filled with meaning. To illustrate a point, healways had a story to tell. Most of the time, it involved the missteps ofa client or some experience he had growing up in an orphanage.Preachers around town were constantly asking Parden to speak at theirservices. He knew the Bible, too. He would frequently cite completechapters from the book of Psalms or Proverbs or use parables from theNew Testament in arguments to juries.

    Like innumerable lawyers before and after him, Parden loved towrite. Many of his articles were printed by black newspapers and magazinesaround the country. For a short time in 1904, he published hisown weekly newspaper. Though he loved writing, he quickly learnedthat printing a newspaper was expensive and time-consuming. It alsotook too much time away from his law practice.

    But to people in Chattanooga's black community, he was simplyone of them, a local who had grown up poor. In thirteen years of practicinglaw in Chattanooga, Parden had developed a reputation amongthe black community as a person who would stand up for their rights.He was the lawyer black people called when they had no money to paya white lawyer. Many times, a home-cooked dinner at the residence ofa defendant's mother, grandmother, or spouse was about all he couldexpect as payment.

    At age forty-one, Parden was in the best physical shape of his life.Gray was lightly sprinkled through his curly hair and full mustache.Cheap wire-rimmed glasses fit loosely on his nose. He was married buthad no children. His family had consisted of the parents and brothersand sisters at the orphanage who discovered him one afternoon abandonedon their doorstep. He had spent his teenage and early-adultyears working days in the tobacco fields and nights in a factory tryingto save money for law school.

    After studying two years at Central Tennessee College in Nashville,Parden returned to Chattanooga to open a law firm with his mentor,former Tennessee Representative Styles L. Hutchins. Hutchins wasthe first black person to be elected to a state office from Chattanooga.The two men were exact opposites. As deliberate and cautious as Pardenwas, Hutchins was flamboyant and rebellious. Together, they representedmost of the black people who found themselves in troublewith the law in southeastern Tennessee. This case that brought Pardento the nation's highest court was the biggest either man had everhandled.

    All that said, this also was a case he didn't want. Twice Parden hadtold Ed Johnson to find another lawyer. He rejected requests by whitelawyers and leaders within the black community to get involved inJohnson's defense during the trial. Even after Johnson had been condemnedto die, Parden initially turned away Johnson's father, whopleaded for help in saving his son's life. But Hutchins insisted theyaccept the case. The older lawyer saw it as their duty and eventuallybrowbeat his young associate into handling the appeal.

    Parden's public message was usually low-key and gentle. He seldomraised his voice, except at the stupidity of his own clients. Publicly,he sought justice or mercy from the courts for his clients andnever wavered as an advocate for the people he represented. Privately,he chastised his clients for their wrongdoings and tried to help themmend their ways. Though Parden never backed down from a fight, hecertainly didn't go looking to pick one, either. Even when disagreeingwith a prosecutor or a judge, Parden seemed reluctant or embarrassedto challenge their authority.

    "Mr. Hewlett. Mr. Parden."

    The voice was startling. It came from across the room, where thesecretary stood in the doorway. She nodded for them to step forward.

    "Yes."

    "He will see you now."

    Nervously, Parden picked up his briefcase, cleared his throat, andwalked toward the open door. Hewlett patted him on the shoulder andfollowed him into the room. Above the thick wooden door was a sign:

SUPREME COURT CONFERENCE ROOM

    The justices' courtroom was directly above their old chambers,which they had called home for the eighty years before their 1860move. Their new space was elegant, but not as expansive as the Courtdesired. None of the justices had his own office. Instead, they shared aconference room, a robing area, a law library, and the courtroom. Anew Supreme Court building was in the planning stages, but it wouldnot be completed until 1935.

   This was a moment few lawyers ever experience. Parden had noidea what to expect. He thought maybe two or three of the justiceswould be there. Or possibly all of them.

    The conference room was huge, larger than Parden's entire house.Law books packed dark oak shelves that lined every wall from thefloor to the ceiling twenty feet above. The only light in the room was agas-fueled chandelier hovering above a long table. Shades over a largewindow were drawn shut. This was the room where the justices metregularly to discuss cases among themselves and decide how theywould rule.

    Nine wooden chairs were neatly fitted around the table. About adozen more chairs lined the walls. The floors were of hardwood andgave under Parden's step. A cigar on the table left a trail of whitesmoke.

    "Mr. Justice," said Hewlett, "it's an honor, sir. I'm E. D. Hewlett,a member of the bar of the Supreme Court, and this is Noah Parden, alawyer from Chattanooga, Tennessee."

    Parden was starstruck. He was here, standing before a justice ofthe United States Supreme Court. All of the chairs were empty exceptone. At the far end of the long, grandiose oak table, behind a stack ofpapers and law books, sat an old man with barely a red hair or two onthe side of his head. He was studying a document and did not evenlook up as he waved them over. There was no friendly welcome toWashington, D.C. There was no handshake or apology for the daylongwait.

    Even though the cantankerous codger was seated, Parden couldsee that he was a large specimen, about six feet two inches tall andwell over 260 pounds; he had not missed many meals. His face wasstern and red. The buttons on the black double-vested suit and theblack bow tie that choked his white collar strained to gather in hisflesh. A few feet behind him, several black robes hung on thin woodenhangers.

    To Noah Parden, this man needed no introduction. He was U.S.Supreme Court Justice John Marshall Harlan, a legendary member ofthe Court who has frequently been overshadowed by Justice OliverWendell Holmes. Known as the "Great Dissenter," Harlan had a reputationfor being bombastic and somewhat pompous from the bench.His words were biting, and many who appeared before the jurist consideredhim a grumpy old man.

    Justice Harlan never hesitated to tell lawyers appearing before theCourt that they were doing an awful job and that their clients shoulddemand a refund for ineffective assistance of counsel. He wouldopenly berate his fellow justices in the strongest of terms. He oftenviolated the Court's judicial decorum; once he had pounded his fist onthe desk and waved his finger in another justice's face while reading adissenting opinion from the bench. His scathing written and oralattacks upon litigators and fellow judges were legendary.

    The other justices joked that Harlan suffered from "dissent-ery.""He could lead, but could not follow. His was not the temper of anegotiator," said a former U.S. attorney general. In a court ruling, JusticeFelix Frankfurter described Harlan as "an eccentric exception."

    Yet Justice Harlan's written opinions, though colorful andhaughty, delivered a clear message: he was a friend to the poor, theunderprivileged, and the people of color in our society. He believed inequal rights and equal protection under the law. The most obviousevidence of his views came in 1896, in a case called Plessy v.Ferguson. The Supreme Court was reviewing an appeal by Homer Plessy, aman from Louisiana, who complained about the state's law compelling segregationof the races in railroad coaches. Plessy, who was one-eighthblack, said he wanted to be able to sit in the passenger cars reservedfor white people. The Louisiana courts ruled against Plessy, whoappealed to the Supreme Court. In deciding the case, the Court, ledby Justice Henry Brown, said that the fallacy in Plessy's argument wasin his "assumption that the enforced separation of the two racesstamps the colored race with the badge of inferiority." However, JusticeBrown said that if the law branded black people as inferior it was"solely because the colored race chooses to put that construction uponit." Six other justices signed off on Justice Brown's opinion that segregationdid not and should not stigmatize black people. In doing so, theSupreme Court gave its stamp of approval to Jim Crow laws and thepublic policy of "separate but equal."

    Only one justice dissented in the Plessy case: John Marshall Harlan.He blasted his fellow members of the Court for being disgracefullybigoted in their decision-making. He argued that all men are createdequal and insisted that no one—black or white—should bediscriminated against or awarded preferential treatment because of thecolor of his skin.

In the view of the Constitution, in the eye of the law, there is in this country no superior dominant ruling class of citizens. There is no caste here. Our Constitution is color-blind, and neither knows nor tolerates classes among citizens. In respect of civil rights, all citizens are equal before the law. The humblest is the peer to the most powerful. The law regards man as man and takes no account of his surroundings or of his color when his civil rights as guaranteed by the supreme law of the land are involved.

    Justice Harlan said that "separate but equal" operated under the"guise of giving equal accommodation for whites and blacks" but instead"compelled the latter to keep to themselves." Harlan was correct in hisprediction. The high court's decision opened the door to unprecedentedsegregation through the acceptance of Jim Crow laws across the South.

    As confrontational as Justice Harlan was on the bench, he wasequally approachable in person. Most of the great mustachioed justiceswho sat on the Court were considered haughty and aloof, butHarlan was a man of the people. Justice Holmes called him the last"tobacco chomping justice." Harlan was known for leaving theSupreme Court chambers in the afternoon and walking around thecapital. He would stop at a fruit stand to buy apples for himself andanybody else standing nearby—white or black. If lawyers thought hewas a tyrant, the laypeople who met him felt the exact opposite way.

    Now, a decade after the infamous Plessy decision, here was Parden,a black man from the South, standing before Justice Harlan seekingemergency relief. Parden was one generation removed fromslavery, yet he was across the table from one of the most powerful menin the United States. He might not have been the first black attorneyto enter the U.S. Supreme Court building, but he certainly was thefirst to sit before a justice with such a sober purpose. Only once beforehad a black lawyer from the old Confederacy taken a petition to thenation's highest court.

    Back home, Parden was given little chance of winning relief forhis client. Instead, he was viewed as a community agitator. Justanother Negro trying to stir up trouble, misusing the court system todelay the inevitable, people said. Most white people, especiallylawyers and court authorities, laughed at Parden and Hutchins whenthey announced they would take their case to Washington. Thenagain, most lawyers back in Chattanooga never thought Parden wouldeven get an audience with a Supreme Court justice. Even manyprominent black leaders had tried to persuade Parden to turn theappeal over to a white lawyer, who they believed might be moreeffective or at least better received.

    The federal courts had never been a friend to the black man inAmerica. Just decades earlier, this very Supreme Court had publiclystated, as a matter of law, that there were no rights belonging to a blackman that white people were bound to respect.

    For Parden, just being in the room was intimidating. He struggledto keep his focus. He needed to make the strongest argument he couldand not forget any key points. He must remember that he was therenot for himself but for his client.

    "I represent Ed Johnson, the condemned man," said Parden.

    "Mr. Parden, Mr. Hewlett," the old man responded without standingup and without stating his own name, "tell me why the UnitedStates Supreme Court should care about this case?"

    The justice's hands continued to grasp a document. Parden wasunsure if it was the request for writ of error and petition for habeas corpusthat he had filed a day earlier, asking the Court to stay Johnson'sexecution and grant a full review of his case. He also was unsure if thejustice had read his petition or how much he knew about the case.

    "Your Honor, never has there been a more obvious injustice thanin this case," Parden began. "Here we have a defendant who is certainlyinnocent, but who has never been afforded the presumption ofinnocence."

    "Why do you think this Negro is innocent?" Justice Harlan interrupted.

    "Because he told me so," Parden responded. "I have met withhim, I have met with his friends, I have reviewed the evidence. Ibelieve he is telling the truth."

    "All criminals claim they're innocent." Harlan smirked, displayingthe only glimpse of emotion Parden would see.

    "But Ed Johnson is telling the truth," Parden answered. "The evidenceunequivocally supports his plea of innocence."

    The Chattanooga lawyer took this as an opportunity to make hispitch. He told Harlan that neither of the key witnesses against hisclient was to be believed. The victim admitted she had not gotten agood look at her attacker. In fact, the man who claimed he saw Johnsonin the area of the attack carrying a leather strap like the one usedagainst the victim came forward only after he was offered a $375reward. And other witnesses put his credibility in doubt, Parden toldJustice Harlan.

Miss Nevada Taylor was raped by someone, but who it was she could not say. On the night the outrage was committed, several officers were called to the home of the young woman and the first question propounded to her was if she knew who her assailant was. She said she did not know. Then she was asked if he was white or black, and she said she did not know, as it was too dark for her to tell.

    "I'm not here to retry this case. A jury has already done that," JusticeHarlan again interrupted. "Was the trial flawed? Was the defendantdenied some constitutional right?"

    Parden said there were specific violations of the Fourth, Fifth,Sixth, and Fourteenth Amendments. Two of the lawyers appointed todefend Ed Johnson had never handled a criminal case before. Theywere denied enough time to investigate adequately and research properlythe case against their client.

Continues...

Excerpted from Contempt of Courtby Mark Curriden Copyright © 2001 by Mark Curriden. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Dettagli dell?edizione

• Editore: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
• Data di pubblicazione: 2001
• ISBN 10: 0385720823
• ISBN 13: 9780385720823
• Rilegatura: Copertina flessibile
• Lingua: Inglese
• Numero di pagine: 432
• Contatto del produttore: non disponibile