Chapter 18
JUDGE W. L. PARKS, by the evidence of his obituary, had not attended law school. That was not unusual in those days, when attorneys often simply apprenticed with practicing lawyers before taking the bar exam. I remember my father saying that Judge Parks had a reputation for being fair and that he “could have done worse,” a comment that was like him, for he was not the kind of man to blame others.
My father believed that Judge Parks chose him, rather than a Yankee lawyer, to defend Charles White as a way of demonstrating Southern self-sufficiency. In addition to my father’s growing reputation, Judge Parks also knew of my father’s law partner, Mr. Yarbrough, and the fact that this much older civic and business leader placed confidence in my father would have been reassuring to Judge Parks. The advocacy of a respected, if on the young side, trial lawyer from Enterprise, the son of one of Alabama’s progressives on race, along with the strict courtroom decorum that Judge Parks had promised to impose, would go far toward convincing skeptics that the trial of Charles White would be as fair as any colored man accused of raping a white woman could have gotten anywhere, even in New York.
Judge Parks gaveled the courtroom to silence and directed everyone to be seated. He did not say good morning, and his tone and demeanor were solemn as the indictment was read: “The Grand Jury of Pike County charge that Charles White, alias William White, alias Reeves White, whose Christian name is to the Grand Jury otherwise unknown, forcibly ravished Elizabeth Liger, a woman, against the peace and dignity of the State of Alabama.”
What was said by Judge Parks as he turned to face the jury does not appear in the transcript, but based on what my father said and the way things are done in court, he would have explained that what he had just read was what the law called an indictment: a formal charge of a crime but not evidence of a crime. Pausing to allow the distinction to sink in to each of the twelve jurors, all of whom he knew personally or through their families, he told them to base their verdict on evidence alone. Another pause, and then there was a change in tone; no longer warm, his voice held a warning.
In a moment, he told the jury, you will hear the opening statements of Mr. E. C. Orme of Troy, representing the people of the State of Alabama, and then of Mr. Foster Beck of Enterprise, who will represent the accused, Charles White. What the lawyers say in these opening statements, Judge Parks explained, will not be evidence. It will only be what the lawyers expect the evidence will be. And that is all they would say, he warned, or he would put a halt to it. Judge Parks gave each attorney a stern look, as if to reinforce to one and all that this was his courtroom, not theirs, and that he would brook no impertinence, holding their eyes until each nodded his assent. The lawyers would not be permitted to tell the jury the law. Judge Parks would do that.
Turning from the lawyers to the packed courtroom, Judge Parks said that the Alabama Highway Patrolmen everyone had seen would deal with any disturbances by the crowd outside. There would be no talking, and no stirring or commotion, inside, or he would have the sheriff clear the courtroom of the offenders.
Judge Parks paused for emphasis before saying, “Sheriff Reeves?” Sheriff B. R. Reeves considered rising up from his chair beside Mr. McCartha but decided it was not worth the effort. Everyone knew who he was. The sheriff contented himself with pressing down on the arms of his chair and straining to lift his posterior an inch or two before collapsing back on the seat.
“BE IT REMEMBERED that on the 14th day of July, 1938, in the Circuit Court of Pike County, Alabama, Hon. W. L. Parks presiding, the following proceedings were held,” Court Reporter McCartha recorded in shorthand, “ELIZABETH LIGER, a witness for the State, being first duly sworn to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, testified as follows on Direct Examination.”
“My name is Elizabeth Liger. They sometimes call me Cain Liger. I am twenty years old. I will be twenty-one this September 17.”
As most people in Troy knew, Elizabeth “Cain” Liger was the daughter of the family that owned the Liger grocery store in town. Although one of her arms was deformed, Elizabeth Liger was otherwise of a modestly athletic build, with straight-line hips, long, slender legs and undeveloped breasts. She looked a little younger than twenty going on twenty-one, but sounded a little older when she spoke. Some in Troy had told Foster she was “slow”; others said no, she was just “dreamy,” a “silly girl” who would be fine when she married and had some children. Everyone agreed she believed in fortune-tellers.
Solicitor Orme asked her if she knew Mary Etta Bray.
“I do know Etta. I have been knowing her about two years and have been seeing her all along.”
Solicitor Orme asked how long she had known Charles White.
“The first time I saw him was in the store last month. That is him sitting over there.”
“Indicating,” Mr. McCartha recorded in shorthand.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Solicitor Orme asked, “did Charles White do something to you?”
Foster tensed, but he did not object. The story was going to come in sooner or later; an objection to the leading question would look as if the defense was afraid for the jury to hear what had happened.
“Yes, Charles White did something to me. It was on a Tuesday down at Etta’s house where he was staying. When I got down there, Etta showed me to Charles White’s room.”
“Did you ask to see Charles White?”
“I did not ask for Charlie. She knew what I wanted and she led me to the room. Mary Etta did not go in the room with me. It was just he and I in there. Then he locked the room.”
“Please tell the jury what happened next.”
“I told him I came to have my fortune told. He said it would be twelve dollars and he was going to fix me up.”
“Miss Elizabeth, did anything else happen other than the fortune-telling?”
“After he got through telling my fortune he told me to come over to his side of the table where he was sitting. When I got over there he pulled up my dress and took some kind of salve and put it on me right down there . . .”
“Indicating,” the transcript recorded.
“On my private parts.”
“Did he do anything else to you that Tuesday?”
“He told me to get on the bed, he was going to fix me up, and I told him no he wasn’t going to fix me up there on the bed, and he got on top of me then. He pulled up my clothes and pulled off one part of my shorts. I cried but it didn’t do any good. I could feel something stinging down there—a stinging, and a funny and burning feeling down there, and I asked him to get off me but he would not do it, and every time I cried he put his hand over my mouth and he said, ‘If you tell anybody I am going to kill you.’ He was lying on top of me and he was just so big and fat he hurt me when he lay down on me.”
The State then asked the following question: “Did you see him undo his clothes?”
The defendant objected to this question as leading, the transcript recorded, but there was no ruling by the court.
“Yes, I saw and know what a man’s private parts are. Yes, I saw him do something about that. He got it out and then stuck it in mine. I couldn’t tell how far because you see I was looking the other way when he got on top of me. All I could tell was just when he was putting it down there was it would sting and it would feel funny and burn. I wasn’t in that position only about two or three minutes. That was about as long as I was on the bed. When I was on the bed his right arm was back of my neck. I think it was about that far . . .”
“Indicating,” the transcript recorded.
“Around my neck if I am not mistaked.
“Whenever I asked him to get off, he wouldn’t do it and he said he wanted to stay on there a little longer, that he wanted to get off. When he got off I got up. I put my shorts back on. I started to open the door. I didn’t know it was locked and I couldn’t get out and he pulled me back and he felt of my breasts and he said, ‘When this boy meets you he is going to feel your breasts like that
.’ ”
“Indicating,” the reporter noted in shorthand.
“He said, when the right one comes to meet me this is what he will do. That he would feel my breasts, and he said that would make them big. And then he unlocked the door and he opened it and let me out. I started home then. I saw Mary Etta and her girl in the house. Mary Etta was in the kitchen, I think, fixing dinner. I told her about what he was doing to me. She said, ‘He wasn’t going to hurt you,’ that ‘he was as good as gold.’ ”
The defendant moved to strike what was said about Mary Etta. The court ruled that what had happened could be shown, but not the details of the conversation.
The witness continued: “I went on home from down there. When I got home I saw Mr. Scarbrough down at the store. I told Mr. Scarbrough when I went to the store.”
“Nothing further,” Solicitor Orme said, and returned to his seat.
Chapter 19
“MISS ELIZABETH,” Foster Beck said on cross-examination, speaking softly. “I have just a few questions, if you please.” He had thought long and hard about whether to cross-examine Elizabeth Liger at all, and if so how, but he had decided there was no choice. Something apparently had gone on between his client and the young white woman, but he did not think for one minute that it was rape. And he was curious about her mention of salve.
“You first went to see Charles White on a Monday, the day before what you just described, not on Tuesday, isn’t that right, Miss Elizabeth?”
After some confusion about the days, Elizabeth Liger agreed that Monday was the first day she went to see Charles White. “He came to the store, he and that negro woman, Mary Etta. She called me out there on the front of the store and she told me he was a fortune-teller. She said, ‘That man in there was the best fortune-teller that had ever been put out in the state and he guaranteed it, and I wanted you to come down there and let him tell yours.’ And, of course, I said ‘All right.’’ I went down there to see him Monday.”
“You went alone?”
“I went by myself. I told him that I wanted to have three questions answered for a quarter. He said he could answer any three questions for a quarter. The first question was something about the right husband.”
“He said you would have a husband?”
“Yes, by the Fourth of July. I think the next question was whether I was going to have a pretty home and pretty furniture, and was I going to be happy, something like that, but I don’t remember what he said. I think the third question was to describe my husband and how he looked. He said he was tall and curly-headed and had black curly hair, and then I think after that, he told me to come over there a minute that he was going to fix me up.”
“That was on Monday?”
“That was on Monday. He told me to come over there and he would put some of that salve and rub on it, and he said it was about closed up now. He said he was going to fix it so this boy when he come could open it and have more fun.”
“And he rubbed salve on you that same day, that Monday?”
“Yes, he rubbed some salve on me then. That was the first time he rubbed any on me. He rubbed right down there—on my private parts. I stood up and he pulled up my dress and rubbed the salve on it. I was standing up. I had on my shorts then. He didn’t pull them off then, he just got them down there on this side and just rubbed it on.”
“On your private parts?”
“Yes, he got it up in there. I asked him what was that for. He said he was going to, you know, make it open wider.”
“What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything. I stood there I reckon about a minute or two. When he got through rubbing that salve I pulled my dress down. I knew that he gave a full reading. I told him I was going to come back Tuesday and let him give me a full reading.”
“And you said this after he put the salve on you?”
“That was after he had put the salve on me.”
“How long were you with him that Monday?”
“I was in the room with Charles something like forty-five or fifty minutes or an hour. I didn’t stay in there long after he rubbed the salve on me. I talked to him about a full reading. That was all I talked about.”
“And then?”
“When I came out of the room I stood there and talked to Mary Etta a little bit. I reckon I talked about ten or fifteen minutes to her. After that I went back home. I went to the store. Mr. Mance Scarbrough and my brother, Harold, run the store. Mr. Scarbrough is a clerk there. I told Mr. Scarbrough about going down there and having this fortune told, and I told him about paying the quarter and getting the three questions answered.”
“Did you tell him about the salve?”
“Yes, I told him about Charles rubbing the salve on me. I told him everything.”
“Did you tell your brother?”
“I didn’t tell anybody else about that, just Mr. Scarbrough.”
“When did you next see Charles White?”
“It was about the same time the next day when I went down there—about 2:30.”
“You brought him some money?”
“Yes, I had my dollar.”
“And where did you get that dollar?”
“I got it at the store. Mr. Mance Scarbrough gave it to me after I told him what I was going to do with it.”
This produced some chuckles and head-shaking in the audience; most people knew that Mance had never given away a dollar to anyone in his life.
“And then you went back to see Charles White with the dollar? Did he use any salve that time?”
“When he gave me the dollar reading he rubbed some salve on me. When he got through with the reading, he told me he was going to fix me up real good for twelve dollars. I told him that I wanted a husband and a home and two children, a boy and a girl, and that I didn’t want my brother and my mother to be mad with me, and he said he could get that. I asked him how much he would charge and he told me it was twelve dollars. I told him I would go home and get what I had, that I didn’t have but only ten dollars and he told me that would be all right and to bring the ten dollars and owe him two dollars, and after that I said to him, ‘No, I haven’t got but $8.65,’ and he said, ‘Well, that will do, just bring me what you have.’ When I came back nobody showed me how to go in the room there . . .”
At this point, the transcript reflects that the witness began weeping, but the court instructed that the examination proceed.
“I don’t remember how long I was in there the second time [on Tuesday]. When I gave him the $8.65 he did not [sic] take an eye-water dropper and make a cross on me. He took that and put it on my breasts.”
“With an eye-dropper?”
“Yes, sir, with an eye-dropper. He said some kind of a prayer or something. Yes, this man got on top of me. That is all I know, what I told you a while ago.”
“And you spoke with Mary Etta when you left?”
“When I left there I went out of the house the back way. I saw Mary Etta in the backyard at the washtub. I think another woman was in the house. I don’t know. I wasn’t talking to anybody but Mary Etta.”
“You know Mary Etta’s daughter, Carrie Louise. Did you speak to her?”
“I don’t remember passing Carrie Louise. I saw Mary Etta. I told her he got on top of me and told her what he done to me. I told her that he had just told me I was going to have a husband and children and I was going to get a husband before the Fourth of July, but I don’t remember what else I told her. I might have told Carrie Louise good-bye. I don’t remember.”
“Did you make a complaint to Etta or Carrie Louise?”
“I did not make any complaint to them.”
“You were not crying then?” Foster hoped Elizabeth would confirm that she was not crying; Carrie Louise had told him that Miss Elizabeth was not crying, and he didn’t want to have to put a teenaged colored girl’s word against a white’s.
“I was not crying then. I cried after I told Mr. Scarbrough. I told Mr. Scarbrough that this man to
ld me he was going to fix me up, that I was going to have a husband and two children, and I told about him rubbing the salve on me and putting me on the bed and getting on top of me and that was when he took the phone and called up Harold.”
Foster then asked the witness the following question: “How did he tell you that he was going to fix you up? With a husband and home, didn’t he, and that was what he meant, wasn’t it?”
The State objected to this question and the court sustained the objection.
“You didn’t talk to your brother about it at all?” Foster asked.
The State objected to this question but there was no ruling, and the witness answered, “No, sir.”
The defense then asked, “Miss Elizabeth, I will ask you again if this isn’t a fact that this negro was polite and courteous to you all the time that you were there?”
The State objected to this question and the court sustained the objection. Mr. McCartha recorded that the defendant reserved an exception to the ruling.
“You have anything else before we go to lunch, Foster?” Judge Parks asked.
Foster did not want to stand between the jury and lunch. “Let me think about it while we all have lunch, Judge, if I may. But I do want to reserve an exception to your last ruling . . .”
“Already noted. We’ll resume at one o’clock sharp,” Judge Parks announced, bringing down his gavel.
“All rise,” sang out the assistant clerk in his signature Boston accent, and all stood respectfully, moved by the drama they had just witnessed.
Chapter 20
MY FATHER was a prudish man, so I am not surprised that he never said anything to me about a “salve.” Most likely, he did not know anything about the alleged application until Elizabeth Liger took the stand. As a lawyer who has been surprised by what a witness said in a deposition or in court testimony, I can well imagine what transpired during the brief meeting my father was afforded with his client, before the two had separate lunches.
My Father and Atticus Finch Page 8