The Northwest enterprise. [volume] (Seattle, Wash.) 1931-1952, 1933-05-04
THAT Black Thing"
Continued from Page One

AA0MA aBE AnE
at the pathetic. soiled little hand
kerchief in her hands. Her boz
som rises and falls heavily and
she leans against the window
weakly.
When the Jackson County pros
ecutor finishes she looks at him
wonderingly. There is no hatred
In her eyes: only the look of one
terribly hurt who does not know
why. of one dazed by this vim
dictive bitterness on the part of
the white man who two years
has tried to burn her son in the
electric chair.
Beibowitz rises. He is the big
northern lawyer she has heard
about who was going to help the
International Labor Defense save
her boy. His voice is soft. re-
strained. She leans forward, an
xious not to miss a word. He is
appealing to men of reason"
pleading that they forget her
sons skin Is black and give him
a fair trial. Her hands are clasp
ed together. The knuekles of
her hands show the intensity of
her emotion. The handkerchief
is buried between her palms.
Leibowitz's arms are appraised.
His long, four-hour summation
is ending. He is making a last
plea to the jury to forget race
and color and religious preju-
dice aroused by the prosecution.
For Jew and for Gentle. For
white man and for black man"
The words fall upon hushed
spectators. Even some of the
whites who have beer
LISTING for the blood of this boy
on trial for his life are wiping
their eyes.
The tears are running down
her face. She is crying despair
ingly.
This white lawyer would soon
finish. And then there would
be nothing more to say. The ju-
rors would go into the very room
where she now stood and decide
whether she was to have her
son alive-or dead.
A tense silence hangs over the
courtroom when Leibpwitz fin
ishes. The mother slumps into
a chair. The jury's faces are
If their hearts have
been touched they do not show
it.
Attorney-General Knight rises
to conclude for the state. He
karps on the clothes of Ruby
Bates and Lester Carter. Clothes.
That is all he talks of in his
sharp bitter voice.
He points a finger at Patter-
son.
Il am not a murderer! L
would let him loose in two min
utes il | were not convinced that
he is guilty. That is why l ask
that you look at this black thing
The Encouragement is shrewd
He does not want these white
jurors to forget that Patterson
is after all a Niger"
The mother rises at this con
temptuous phrase that carries
with it all the ruling class pre-
JUDGES of the South against this
black man.
BLACK thing" The words echo
and re-eeho through the court
room.
stand up!" Knight shouts.
The "black thing" stands up,
looking helplessly and despair
irgly at the prosecutor who is
venting his hatred upon him as
the symbol of a race protesting
its oppression.
The mothers tears are no
longer running now. Her lace is
suffused with anger. Her fists
clench. This white man demand
ing her sons life is using every
means possible to prejudice the
jurors against him.
BLACK thingl"
There is little said about the
boys guilt or innocence. There
is little said except appeals to
sectional, state, racial, and re-
ligious preiudices deeply engrain-
ed in the hearts of those sitting
il judgment on this boys life
BLACK thing!"
Over again the prosecutor has
said, these two words stand out
with all their implications.
The little white handkerchief
is erumbled in fury. Forever
and ever she will understand
what the black man is to the
white rulers of the South: