Mary Turner and The May 1918 Lynchings

  • This entry of Black History 365 has situations of graphic violence. Reader discretion is advised.

This true crime story I’ll be presenting in this entry Black History 365  is an event in history that I for one didn’t know about and you might not have known. The horrors of slavery and Jim Crow segregation complied an array of racial terror attacks that were brutal and some of them did make it front-page news i.e. Till murder.  This true-crime story in Black History I’m going to present was one of the many deaths that served as in the inspiration for Billie Holiday’s song “Strange Fruit”. With that said, onto the events that occurred on the date of May 19th 1918 in Southern Georgia, United States. 

May 19th 1918 in Southern Georgia, United States was a terrifying day that ended in the gruesome murders of a group of black individuals in the form of lynchings. The most notable death was a woman by the name of Mary Turner. Not much is know about Mary Turner’s background, but what is known is that she was a soon to be a mother before her murder. 

Mary Turner, a black woman who was eight months pregnant, was lynched by a white mob from Brooks County, Georgia at  Folsom’s Bridge 16 miles north of Valdosta for speaking publicly against the lynching of her husband the day before. What I’m about to say is going to be graphic, so you’ve been warned. When the white mob captured Turner, they bound her feet, hung her upside from a tree, threw gasoline on her, and burned her clothes. The mob took their heinous actions and brutality to the extreme that led to the still alive Turner’s abdomen being torn by a mob member’s butcher knife, resulting in them cutting the unborn baby from her. Brace yourself for what you’re about to hear. Once the baby fell from Mary Turner, a member of the mob crushed the crying baby’s head with his foot. Afterward, Mrs. Turner’s body became target practice for the mob. They went to riddle her body with hundreds of bullets, killing her. 

I’m going to backtrack to what caused and led to Mary Turner’s capture and death. Mary Turner’s husband Hayes Turner had been lynched the day before. Hayes Turner was accused of being an accomplice in the killing of a notorious white farmer, Hampton Smith, who was well known for his abuse of black farmworkers. Mr. Smith would bail black people accused of petty crimes out of jail and then require them to work off the fine at his farm. Avoiding jail time to work off his fight might seem like the better deal, but Sidney Johnson, a black man working to pay off a legal fee for “rolling dice” or simply gambling confessed to killing Mr. Smith during a quarrel about being overworked. Police officers killed Johnson in a shootout. When news reached the white community, Mr. Turner and other black farm workers who had been previously accused by Mr. Smith were targeted and accused of conspiracy. 

Many black people during this time were lynched based on mere accusations of murder against white people. The same was true here, at least seven confirmed black individuals were lynched by the white mob in response to Hampton Smith’s death, inflicting community – wide racial terror and violence.

Mrs. Turner was grieving and spoke out against her husband’s death, promising to take legal action. Enraged by this, the white mob made an example of Mrs. Turner, despite having not to fear actual legal repercussions from her promise, as black people at that time were afforded judicial processing. The lynching of Turner and her unborn child from the white mob’s perspective was to maintain white supremacy, silence her, and communicate to the black community that no dissent from the racial order would be tolerated. To no surprise, no member was ever held accountable for the lynching of Mary Turner and her unborn baby. 

The grotesque execution of a black woman eight months pregnant reveals a great deal about how  black women were dehumanized with impunity. There has been a documented number of 594 racial terror lynchings between 1877 and 1950 in the state of Georgia. Brooks County had the third – highest number of documented racial terror lynchings.

Leave a like if you learned something new from this piece of history. Also, give my page a follow so you stay up to date with my future posts. As always peace and keep it real.

You can be my new home (Darklines)

The moon is frozen and dawn is emerging soon

Eyes glued to the sky, wondering if I’ll be able to sneak a peek at sunshine’s hot boom

But it wasn’t meant to be because it never showed from my perspective

an hourglass nailed to the table, the last trail of incense smoke fills my room

the time has come; the last gust of air inhaled from an open window

The curtains close

Hell hounds on my trail ready to growl, pounce, tear, and send me on a one way trip to an eternal brimstone fryer

Blinking tortured tears 

But knowing the inevitable is much amusement

Will I return to my vessel?

Or make home in a new one?

So many options, so many possibilities,

after my return so many eyes made contact with me and you just did so I chose you!

Female Possession 29 GIF | Gfycat

Démons | Supernatural Wiki | Fandom
Best Supernatural Exorcism GIFs | Gfycat

A Ghouls Mansion (Short story)

  • I haven’t written a shorty story that I’ve published in a long while, so if you enjoy this please leave a like and comment if you’d like to chime in. Peace and keep it real.

Chasing criminals and sticking the law up their ass in Chicago was elementary to homicide detective Malik Foley, but this long night was one he wished to never remember. Foley held tight on his pistol as his police badge stabbed into his hipbone. The cold mist from the afternoon rain and fog made the forest a labyrinth or in other words a playground ready for predators to swiftly capture their prey. He entered the forest where he believed the criminal he was searching for fled to. Suddenly, he heard the sound of laughter which caused him to turn in circles so fast he felt the onset of vertigo. As he came closer to where he heard the laughter the sight of what in front of him caused him to freeze. A woman was lying on the ground. She got up quickly and began running away from Foley.

“Wait!” Foley called out. “Don’t go! I’m not going to hurt you!”

She turned around and began walking back towards him. Her clothes were covered in blood. She was holding a large knife.

“Jesus, what happened to you?” The woman looked at Foley smiling, “It’s Zalmora she said”.

“Where is the man who did this to you”? asked Foley

Zalmora laughed, shaking her head.

“Done this to me?” Zalmora asks. “Is this some sort of lawman fantasy? I had a run-in with a vampire, that’s all.”

“A vampire?” Foley ask. “There’s no such thing as vampires?”

“Yes there are,” Zal said nodding.

“I’d know if a vampire had done this to me” she pleaded

“What happened? Where are the injuries? How bad is it?” Foley asked

“I’ll explain it all when we get to safety,” Zal says.

“But can you look after my back? My shoulder’s wounded, and I can’t use it to carry my weapon any longer. Also, my knife hand is injured.”

“Sure,” Foley said

Zalmora leaned her languished body onto Foley, and they walked forward. He was doing his best to keep her standing upright. Time passed and eventually the sun set.

“We need to find a place to sleep for the night,” Zalmora says.

Foley recalled the old mansion that had been abandoned for years on the edge of town. It was not safe, but it was better than sleeping in the open.

“Let’s go,” Foley say.

Foley led Zalmora to the mansion, and opened the large door to let her inside. The mansion was dark and desolate. He hoped nocturnal creatures weren’t a problem . He headed back outside, and looked for somewhere comfortable to lay down. Soon, he fell asleep searching for stars beyond the gray clouds.

Foley awakened in the early hours of the morning by someone entering the mansion. He sat up, raising his pistol.

“Get up” a man’s voice said

Foley pointed it at the dark figure that stood in front of him. The figure held his hands up, and Foley recognizes him as sheriff Wyatt of Cook county.

“Shit, Wyatt,” Foley says.

“I didn’t think you’d come here.” “What are you doing here?” Foley asked.

“You’re supposed to be keeping the peace in the town.”

“I wanted to,” sheriff Wyatt said as he lowered his hands

“I could use some back up,” Wyatt said.

“If you come with me, I think I can take care of this myself but more faster and efficiently . If not, then I’ll need to bring in reinforcements from the town.”

Foley contemplated for a moment. Sheriff Wyatt might have been able to handle whatever problem he had on his own, but he no doubt be able to handle it better with some back up. Still, Foley considered him to be reasonable man, but he still had his doubts. Foley was at a crossroads on whether to help out the injured Zalmora or the sheriff, the question kept repeating in his mind, who do you want to help more? Foley moved closer to the sheriff, lowering his voice.

“Why do you need back up?” Foley ask.

“What’s going on out there?”

The sheriff looked down, seemingly embarrassed. He breathed deeply before looking back up at Foley. His eyes seem different, as if they are brimming with a hidden pain that he wasn’t letting anyone see. “There are… monsters running around,” he says. “Ghouls. They’ve been raiding the town, and they’ve been acting strange. Two of them came into my office while I was sleeping.” Foley raised an eyebrow, keeping his guard up. The sheriff sighed.

“There are worse things than ghouls running around out there,” Foley said. “Worse things than people.”

He stared at Foley for a moment, as if trying to read his thoughts. Foley stared back, trying to will himself to be strong enough to see through his eyes, to see what he sees. But he couldn’t do it. Finally, the sheriff seemingly accepted the fact that Foley couldn’t see through his glamour, and he shrugs slightly.

“Nothing I can do about it,” he says, pulling out his gun and turning away from you quickly. “I need to take care of these two before they kill us all.”

He raised his gun and fires. The bullet went through the head of one of the two men who approached him slowly and dutifully, each clutching a side of his jacket. The two men collapse forward without a sound, and the sheriff kicked them aside as if they were just sleeping men. The second man approached more quickly, his hands raised in surrender. The sheriff raised his gun and fired again, hitting the ghoul in the chest and sending him backwards through the air and to the ground with a broken neck. He twitches once before going still.

“One down,” Wyatt said calmly.

“This one isn’t human.” Foley looked up, realizing that the second ghoul is indeed something else. It has a human skull for a face, complete with eyes set deep into the sockets for vision, but otherwise it is just skin stretched over a gruesome skeleton. It reached out towards Foley with long, bony fingers, and he leaped backwards a kicking it in the face as he fumbled to grab his gun from his pants. The momentum caused him to land on his butt among some furniture but he felt momentary relief because he kept his distance. The sheriff stared at him calmly, shaking his head.

“Shoot it!” Foley shouts at the sheriff.

“Stay where you are!” the sheriff shouts back at you, his pistol raised in both hands. Foley cursed under his breath. The sheriff kept his focus on the ghoul, who stumbled after him with flailing arms. He took careful aim, and fired. The bullet hit the creature in the forehead, and it’s skull collapsed inward from the force of the impact and falling to the ground with a thud. It made no more noise after that.

“Dead,” the sheriff says with a nod.

“Let’s get out of here.” Foley stood and followed him out of the mansion, into the dawn light, but not before what once was Zalmora who is now a vampire stood in the doorway hungry for fresh blood. She rushed toward the two cops for her first of many immortal meals .


Forest of horror by LuckyFrame on DeviantArt

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