Sons of Mississippi: A Story of Race and Its Legacy

I am a fifth generation Mississippian, still residing in Mississippi. My grandfather was a klansman. I remember as a little boy sneaking into his study to read with fascination his books on holocaust denial, books linking Meredith et al. to Marxist subsersive groups, books decrying the destruction of Anglo-Saxon society by the mud peoples and the Jews. I was the first generation of my family to be educated in a public school, and the striking contrast between the familiarity I had with Americans of African origin and the images portrayed in these books touched me to the core. Unfortunately, in Mississippi, one does not gain this familiarity without reaching out. Mississippi is two distinct societies living side-by-side, in constant contact with each other, but seldom interacting socially, and never mixing. This book strikes right into the heart of Mississippi, a land only one generation removed from the epic civil rights battles of the 1960's, a land of people who can tell you where their grandfathers were in 1860 but are quick to forget what their fathers were doing in 1960. One chapter ends with two truths coalesced into one sentence, both of which may seem trite to someone who has never come to understand Mississippi: "In Mississippi, nothing ever changes, and everything always changes, and sometimes it seems God put Mississippi on earth purely for our moral and confounding contemplation." I don't consider this book a tale of Mississippi, I consider it a piece of Mississippi, and I consider the author a Mississippian. The book is a must-have for students of the struggle for civil rights, fans of Mississippi history, or people who love a riveting story artfully laid out in lyric prose.

It's at once a simple and brilliant premise: take a photo that is a literally a snapshot from our country's recent history and use it as a springboard into examining the soul of a region. Paul Hendrickson's "Sons of Mississippi" works on many levels. It is an examination of James Meredith's integration of Ole Miss in 1962, of the state of Mississippi 40 years ago and today, it is a look at ordinary people swept up by extraordinary events. It is all that and so much more.Hendrickson has taken a famous photo published in Life magazine of a group of Mississippi sheriffs just prior to demonstrations on the Ole Miss campus surrounding Meredith's entry and examined the lives of those in the photo and their progeny.I was apprehensive about the book, concerned that it would be dry reading. Fortunately I couldn't have been more wrong. The author's exploration of the sheriffs, their families their communities their homes, is written in an engaging style that draws the reader into the Mississippi of yesterday and today. Much credit must go to Hendrickson for his ability to get interview subjects to speak so freely.I'm often surprised at what books do or do not receive prestigious awards. I'd be shocked if "Sons of Mississippi" does not garner several honors.Highly recommended for everyone, particularly those with interests in Civil Rights, race relations or Mississippi.

Author Paul Hendrickson has written a very well researched book on racism in Mississippi while concentrating on seven Mississippi sheriffs photographed on the campus of the University of Mississippi during the fall of 1962 when James Meredith was to be enrolled at the University. The author spends Part One of the book painting very unflattering portraits of the bigoted men in the picture. Part Two emphasizes the past and present life of James Meredith who appears to be somewhat difficult to understand. As one of Meredith's sons says in Part Three, "My father has an overwhelming need to be famous and so will do whatever he thinks will provide that and get him attention--Jesse Helms, David Duke, you name it, even if it's only for a day...I'll call it his eccentric philosophy. This is my theory. He does these things--almost as a kind of offensive strike to throw you off...For instance, supporting David Duke. Why in hell would you even support a racist like David Duke if you're James Meredith? Well, maybe he knows he's going to get all these articles and letters about that, condemning him. And that somehow gives him the energy to do what he wants to do next." In addition to speaking to Meredith's children in Part Three, the author also visits two of the sheriffs in the picture that were alive at the time (one died shortly after) in addition to some of their children and grandchildren. A number of these offspring are working in law enforcement or in other jobs in which they must relate with fellow workers who are African Americans. The book is slightly more than 300 pages long. Part Three may have told me a little more than I cared to know about the lives of the descendants of the bigoted sheriffs pictured on the cover of the book. I guess we can say these men were a product of their time, and their descendants have become more enlightened through the passage of time. Bigotry is a learned behavior and through the passage of the generations progress can continue to be made.

"Sons of Mississippi" illuminates Charles Moore's photograph of a group of Mississippi sheriffs gathered at the University of Mississippi prior to the admission of its first black student James Meredith in 1962. A subtext is how the story of the murder of Emmett Till reverberates to this day in Mississippi. Hendrickson spins his narrative from interviews, research of documents from the era, and literature about the time and place. Most compelling are his interviews with the sons and grandsons of the sheriffs and with Meredith's son Joe, probing their psyches as it relates to their experiences with race and racism. Near the end of the book on page 291, the author Paul Hendrickson quotes Mark Strand on Edward Hopper's paintings: "The shadow of dark hangs over them, making whatever narratives we construct around them seem sentimental and beside the point." Here he critiques his own contribution by advising the reader that although he has spun a story around a compelling photograph, he understands that the power of the photo, the shadow of dark that hangs over it, is more profound than the fascinating narrative he has attached to it.

The genesis of Sons of Mississippi is a photograph taken in 1962 on the campus of Ole Miss. A group of sheriffs gathered below a tree. They came to stop the registration of James Meredith, the first black student at the university. The sheriff in the middle of the photograph is swinging a bat. The others are standing in support. One sheriff on the left side of the photo is smiling in glee. He looks like the archetype redneck.Hendricks seeks out the men in the photos and their descendants in order to find out "what has come down" from what that photograph represents. What is the legacy of race in Mississippi and for these men and their families? Is their any redemption, any guilt, or are has nothing changed?Only two men in the photograph were still alive for Hendrickson to talk with, and despite hours of interviews they didn't say much about the big questions. No sign of regret. Too, polite he doesn't ask these men if they are still the people in the photograph - or their children for that matter. We are told that they weren't in the Klan. But then maybe they were.The truth is that the men in the photograph probably never wrestled with these questions - or the past - like Hendrickson does - and takes his readers do on the trip that he takes them. Most people are content to live the lives that they want to lead and if that means seeing other people suffer they learn to accept and live with that. That's just the way it is. When Hendrickson goes to the store that Emmit Till was murdered at he bumps into a man who says "the past is the pay and why stir it up and get folks thinking about things that can't be undone?"That is the attitude that most white southerners have about the history of race relations. In the town that I live in there were Civil Rights demonstrations and marches that were akin to what happened in Birmingham. There was a day called "bloody Sunday" and Martin Luther King came to town. He left in defeat so the story isn't told in most narrative histories of the Civil Rights movement. We are approaching the 40th anniversary of that summer. There is no marker to the marches or the beatings. In a poll our newspaper did last week they asked what should the city do for the 40th anniversary of the local civil rights demonstrations. 63% of the respondents said nothing.Hendrickon's book shows how in many ways attitudes have not changed since then. The times have changed. But the deep South isn't much different than anywhere else. There is always something somewhere that people find that they need to look away from. But by looking you learn something about the human condition. Suffering builds perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope. One person in the book makes the comment that the racists of Mississippi hated as a way to focus on something other than their own suffering. That meant turning away from their own humanity and becoming depraved. That is why this is a book worth reading.