Victims and Scapegoats in Atlanta: Charging Leo Frank, and Introducing a major figure in the case: Old 'Massah' Tom Watson. This is the case of Mary Phagan's Murder--TWO.

People give pain, are callous and insensitive, empty and cruel...but place heals the hurt, soothes the outrage, fills the terrible vacuum that these human beings make.

--Eudora Welty

We last left Leo and the Atlanta Police detectives at the National Pencil Co., on the morning of April 27th.

He was then taken by police, to the factory cellar, in order to view the body. He was visibly anxious, but then who wouldn't be? Many of his family and friends later described Leo as being rather highly strung, so perhaps his reaction wasn't atypical. I mean, its' hardly proof, right? But, this was the biggest problem with the whole tragedy: circumstance, physical demeanor, and here-say, were used by the police and prosecutors as a 'smoking gun.'

After retiring to Leo's office, detectives quickly determined that he had been the last person to see Mary Phagan alive (remember, that he'd given out her wages?). This fact, plus Leo's anxiety-ridden demeanor, unfortunately rendered him immediately suspicious to the detectives, according to their later statements, but he was not arrested that day. Watch and wait, right?

Well, I'm afraid Leo was out of luck. He was arrested on April 29, 1913, as a suspect in the murder of Mary Phagan. Police also held on to Newt Lee, and another factory janitor, Jim Conley--both African American. Remember Conley, OK? He was arrested, mainly because someone had seen him washing some "rust stains" out of his shirt, but this story is suspect.

Conley remains an interesting figure in the case. He was known for constantly borrowing money from employees, and coming to work, drunk. There was also a rumor that Conley was being paid a higher salary than most of the other employees. If this was true, then why was this man (whom many other employees said rarely did any work) even there at the factory?

With Frank's arrest, the story surrounding the crime went 'viral.' People accepted Leo's guilt almost without question, from the beginning.

Newspapers would play a huge part in the drama surrounding the murder:

Did you ever watch anybody pick up a newspaper and read the headline PLANE CRASH KILLS THREE HUNDRED? How horrible! says the reader. But look at him when he hands you the paper. Is he horrified? No, he is interested. When is the last time you saw anybody horrified?”
― Walker Percy, Lancelot

Atlanta's newspapers quickly jumped on to the sensational bandwagon, with really balanced articles like this:



F*&k me. Let's take a closer look, 'kay?



Um, dost thou see any problems here? Anyone? How about "we have the strangler"? "In my opinion, the crime lies between two men...." Holy shit, Sherlock.

It gets worse, folks.








Now, these clippings came from the same newspaper, "The Atlanta Constitution," yet it gives you a good idea of the type of 'yellow journalism' permeating the Leo Frank case.


These next are from "The Atlanta Georgian," and guess who owned this little ole newspaper? Oh, I bet you already know..yup, our ole buddies from the Hearst Corporation.




Uh, this was the day after his initial arrest. The dudes employed by Randy-baby were obviously imbued with psychic powers.




The reporters working on the 'Georgian' were mostly from larger northern cities, like NYC. Bored out of their minds with the slow pace of news life in Atlanta at the turn of the century, they immediately seized on the more sensational aspects of the case, shamelessly hyping every single aspect of the tragedy.







Jesus. Nothing like balanced reporting, right? And, folks, these news stories were published months before Frank even went on trial, so how could any prospective juror remain unbiased?


Clearly, Heart's assh&les (sorry, 'boys') had plenty to do now.

Ah, but it got still more gruesome. Somehow, someway, autopsy photos were leaked to the press. I’m just gonna show you one, OK?

I know. It’s a terrible image. A little girl now becomes fodder for every sick twisted bastard out there who is like those drivers who just have to slow down to see an accident on the freeway. But, we’re all lookeloos on some level, right? 

Somehow, the case wasn’t about Mary Phagen anymore, but became something dehumanizing; and rather disgusting.  I’m talking about hate. Why do we always seem to disconnect from the victims in the assignment of blame?

“For nothing is lost, nothing is ever lost. There is always the clue, the canceled check, the smear of lipstick, the footprint in the canna bed, the condom on the park path, the twitch in the old wound, the baby shoes dipped in bronze, the taint in the blood stream. And all times are one time, and all those dead in the past never lived before our definition gives them life, and out the shadow their eyes implore us.”

                        Robert Penn Warren, All the King’s Men

There was someone who was worse than Hearst if that’s possible, in the manipulation of public emotions: the Bastard of the Universe, Uncle Tom Watson, f&%kface extraordinaire! 

So, who was Tom Watson? And, more importantly, why would we care?

Note: Remember, Dear Reader, this is my little ole blog, and contains my opinions and analysis. Just thought I'd remind/warn you...again!

Alright cowboy (or should I say 'cow-them'? we are gender respectful around here folks), let us proceed:

He was born on Sept. 5th, 1856. On a plantation. Tommy-boy was the second oldest of seven kids, whose parents were John Smith Watson (are you f*&*king kidding me?) and Ann Eliza Maddox. And, would you believe that these guys were the descendants of Quakers? Gag me with a spoon--the infamous anti-slavery group of all time, on a slavery farm? Ye Olympian Gods. But, the attitudes towards the social other would remain fixed in Tom's imagination throughout his life, whatever he did. It is therefore important to keep that in mind, OK Dear Reader? : ).

After attending a typical one-room school, Tommy boy went on to Mercer University, around 1872. He was an adequate student, but folks, the money ran out from the parent bank, after two years. Tom had to leave school. His family had lost their plantation in the economic southern depression created by the policies of Reconstruction. The truth is, that few northerners cared little about living conditions of the former Confederates. Remember those pictures of Atlanta I showed you in the first installment of this case? Sufficient evidence, eh?

Remember that this plantation was located in Georgia? Sherman's march? Yeah, you get the picture.

The Tommy Gun (oops, I meant Tom Watson) essentially went on to study law by mail, and passed the bar in 1877. Remember that folks, alright? He went on to establish a law practice in Thomson, GA, which did quite well--Tommy's proficiency in the law was, well, rather adroit. He married and had three children with his wife Georgia Durham (Jeez, could you get more southern than that name?).

As he advanced in the legal community, his (brutal) efficient tactics in the courtroom quickly won him the admiration of his colleagues. He became interested in Georgia's politics. In public forums, Tommy-gun (OK, I don't like this dude, I'll admit it.) spoke about the ancien regime--the 'old order' of the South in reverential terms, to attentive audiences. He argued to rapt fellow southerners that the industries of the North would destroy their culture (Oh! Was he perchance referring to Slavery? What a d i*k).

Watson eventually ran for Georgia's state legislature, and won. Here's where it gets pretty f-ing weird, Dear Reader--during his election, he discovered that he needed black votes to win, and this led him to support some, uh, issues that weren't exactly consistent with his personal views, such as: ending peonage (convict labor leasing), public schooling, and supporting the political rights of sharecroppers (black and white).

Tom didn't stay for his full term however. He hated the impossibly s l o w pace of passing laws, as well as growing support among the legislators for policies that favored industrializing the South. This last was too much--Watson was always too much in love with the old farming economy of the old system. He quickly resigned.

Now, come the really eccentric, weird, odd, off, and transendentalist part of his story--after the legislature, Tom became involved in a growing agrarian movement, known to us as 'Populism'. So, what in hell was that? OK, let's see what our mighty Oxford dictionary says (note to students--don't EVER EVER quote from an encyclopedia or a dictionary! : ) But, I'm gonna! Frankly, I liked its' definition.):

Populism is a political approach that strives to appeal to ordinary people who feel that their concerns are disregarded by established elite groups.
(you can view source here, if you like)

For a man who liked to champion the needs of poor farmers, this political evolution was natural, I suppose. Populism was, truly, the red-headed stepchild of American politics: its' platform included no paper money, no national banks, no speculation of crop futures, and a radical lowering of taxes for the poor.

In 1890, Tom ran for, and won, a seat in the U.S. Congress. Yeah, I know, right? And, he wasn't half bad as a congressman. He faithfully advocated for the various goals of his political base. One of his pet projects, was a piece of legislation to establish free mail delivery to extremely rural areas. He was successful in this goal.

It was in 1896, that Watson found himself in the heady realm of presidential politics. In that year, the Democrats selected William Jennings Bryan (a man from Nebraska who ended up running for the office 'billions and billions and billions of times). There was a great deal of support among the Populists to 'add' their platform to that of the Democratic party. Watson was embroiled in this plot, thinking somehow that he'd be put on the ticket.

Dreamer indeed, eh?

I think you can guess what happened next: yeah, some other guy was put on the ticket, the Democrats lost, and Republican candidate William Mckinley won. Watson would run in other presidential elections, but let's face it: the Populists were D A D (dead as a door-nail!). But, Dear Reader, let us return to Georgia....

Inside his home territory, Watson continued to flex his muscles, even helping Hoke Smith (uh, "Hoke"? Really?)

OK. So, its' the 1890s, and Tom has, um, 'retired' to his 'modest' estate "Hickory Hill." Apparently, this is when he began to write history. Oh dear, really?




Oh shit. Sorry, that's not the right house. It's Hickory Hill, not this pathetically elaborate tribute to one man's ego!









Here is the 'champion of the poor', the 'knight of the sharecroppers', posing in his modest (cough) foyer.




Hack.

Wheeze.

Watson wrote some stuff on French history, and some biographies on Jefferson (whoa, big stretch there), Napoleon, and Andrew Jackson (whoa there Nellie, are we beginning to see a despot pattern here?).  He also wrote a novel entitled Bethany:  A Story of the Old South.  It's a book that attempts to paint an idyllic picture of the Old South.  Through the characters, Watson tries to give 'voice' to the values and patterns of life in the now vanished southern social system, that had been built on the institution of slavery.  The story is incredibly complex:  confederate soldier meets southern belle.  Falls in love.  Looses girl.  Regrets it.  I know, really Tolstoy-esque, ain't it? 

However, if you really, really want to, you can read the thingie online here (for free):

https://archive.org/details/bethanyastoryol00watsgoog/page/n14/mode/2up

I found a quote from Watson's forward, that's kind of interesting.  

Human nature is often a sorry old thing at best; and we are not always as virtuous in chastising the sins of a neighbor who has made us angry as we suppose ourselves to be. At any rate, it is considerably easier to administer heroic doses of medicine to an enemy than to a friend.

                                --Thomas E. Watson, Bethany, a Story of the Old South, introduction

I know, it's strange, and kind of wise, right? But, that's the thing about Watson:  He's a creature of contrasts.  If one reads further into the novel's introduction, you can see what Watson thinks about the three decades leading up to 1860, putting a lot of blame for the sectional divide, on guys like John Quincy Adams (whaaaaaa?), and (oddly) Andrew Jackson.  But, he doesn't exactly point the finger at morons like John C Calhoun-ee baby.  But, no mention of slavery, noooooooo why would we write that, eh Tommy? Holy Crap, Batman.  

Sigh.  And, you're not gonna believe this, guys:  it's still in print.  Ah.  You don't believe me? 

told you so

It was around 1904, that Watson's views began to harden into the kind of virulent racism one associates with the Jim Crow South.  It might be said, that the prominence and power of African American leaders like Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. DuBois facilitated this process.  One can track this gradual transformation, by examining his popular publication, Watson's Jeffersonian Magazine.  

Sigh, now we have to look at some of that poisonous stuff:

Leo Frank was a typical young Jewish man of business who loves pleasure, and runs after Gentile girls. Every student of Sociology knows that the black man's lust after the white woman, is not much fiercer than the lust of the licentious Jew for the Gentile.

                                            ----Watson's Jeffersonian Magazine, January, 1915

Oh, it get's worse:

He was haunted by the dead girl who lay in the basement. To save his soul, he could not get her off his mind. The gruesome thing possessed him, held him, tortured him. Thundering in his brain, all the time, were the terrific words, "Be sure your sin will find you out!''

                                           -----Ibid.

During the dreadful hours that followed Frank's return to the factory, his agitated mind cast about for a theory, a scape-goat, that would keep the bloodhounds off his own trail. 

                                            ----Ibid.

And, this little gem:

If Frank had killed a Jew...would these Jewish millionaires be so lavish with their money and their abuse?

                                            -----Ibid.

Sigh.

And, this, also from a later issue that same year (look at the description underneath the portrait):

that's from a different magazine.

Jesus.

I wish I could tell you that these brief examples were unique among Watson's considerations of the case, but they weren't.  His articles about Frank are filled with wily racist invective.  Quite a distance from where he started, right?

Alright, Dear Reader, that's it for this entry.  Next week, the conclusion!

The end of man is knowledge, but there is one thing he can't know. He can't know whether knowledge will save him or kill him. He will be killed, all right, but he can't know whether he is killed because of the knowledge which he has got or because of the knowledge which he hasn't got and which if he had it, would save him.”
― Robert Penn Warren, All the King's Men