Joseph Hill Dumas

Age 19

A young Black man who helped his family move into a new home

Perry, Florida

May 5, 1962

Joseph Hill Dumas was a 19-year-old Black man helping his family move into a new home when he was shot in the back by a white constable in Perry, Florida.

According to statements given by surviving family members and recorded in a Department of Justice memo, the family was returning from dropping off some items to a house they had recently rented on May 5, 1962, when they were stopped by Constable Henry Sauls. The driver got out of the truck and was asked by Sauls for his driver’s license and to write his name on a piece of paper. As the driver finished writing his name, Dumas also got out of the truck and walked over to Sauls and the driver.

Members of the family later told federal officials that Sauls looked at Dumas and asked: “What’s that Black son of a b**** looking at me for? I’m going to teach you damn n***** some sense.” He told Dumas to return to the truck, which Dumas began to do, with his hands in his pockets. Sauls ordered him to put his hands in the air. Sauls searched Dumas’ pockets and, according to the driver’s witness statement, found a closed switchblade. The witnesses said Sauls told Dumas, “N*****, if you move, I’ll kill you,” and then, while Dumas stood still with both hands in the air, Sauls shot him in the back with his pistol. Dumas fell to his knees and said: “Mr. Sauls, why you want to shoot me? I haven’t did anything.”

Sauls would later tell a jury that he had stopped the family because he was investigating a case of forged checks and wanted the driver’s signature to compare with evidence. His testimony contradicted the witness statements, in that Sauls said he’d found the switchblade open and that, as he was conducting the search, Dumas had lunged at him, throwing him off balance and causing him to accidentally discharge his gun.

Sauls asked for help getting Dumas into his car to be taken to a doctor, but that attempt was unsuccessful. Instead, Sauls called an ambulance. Dumas was pronounced dead at the hospital.

Initial Investigation

Within weeks of Dumas’ death, a local grand jury was assembled and declined to indict the constable.

The NAACP then brought the matter to the FBI, which opened a federal case and obtained statements from some, but not all, of the witnesses. A federal grand jury indicted the constable for violations of civil rights, after which the governor of Florida suspended Sauls from duty. The case went to trial, and Sauls testified on his own behalf. The federal jury found Sauls not guilty.

Till Act Status

The Department of Justice initiated a review of the case in 2008. They obtained the initial investigative reports, docket log, testimony and many of the filings from Sauls’ federal trial, as well as Sauls’ death certificate, among other reports. They did not find a death certificate for Dumas, nor was it clear if an autopsy had been performed.

The Department of Justice closed the case in April 2010, citing Sauls’ death in 1974. Had Sauls still been alive, the memo stated, a new trial against him would not be prosecutable: Because Sauls had already been tried and acquitted in federal court, to try him again would constitute double jeopardy. Further, the applicable statutes could not be retroactively applied, the memo stated.

Un(re)solved

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About the Project

This multiplatform investigation draws upon more than two years of reporting, thousands of documents and dozens of first-hand interviews. FRONTLINE spoke to family and friends of the victims, and witnesses, some of whom had never been interviewed; current and former Justice Department officials and FBI agents, state and local law enforcement; lawmakers, civil-rights leaders and investigative journalists, to explore the Department of Justice’s reopening of civil rights-era cold cases under the 2008 Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act.

In addition to an examination of the federal effort, the project features the first comprehensive, interactive list of all those whose cases were reopened by the Department of Justice. Today, the list stands at 151 names. Among the victims: voting rights advocates, veterans, Louisville’s first female prosecutor, business owners, mothers, fathers, and children.

The project consists of a web-based interactive experience, serialized podcast, a touring augmented-reality exhibit, documentary and companion education curriculum for high schools and universities.

A project like Un(re)solved would not be possible without the historic and contemporary contributions of universities, civil rights groups, and the press, particularly the Black press, who have ensured the ongoing public record of racist violence in the United States. To pay homage to these groups, the web interactive begins with a quote from journalist, activist and researcher Ida B. Wells, one of the first to document with precision the horrors of racial terror in America. “The way to right wrongs,” she wrote, “is to turn the light of truth upon them.”

At the outset of the project, FRONTLINE forged a relationship with Northeastern University’s Civil Rights and Restorative Justice Project (CRRJ), bringing them on as an academic partner. Launched in 2007 by Distinguished Law Professor Margaret Burnham, CRRJ is a mission-driven program of interdisciplinary teaching, research and policy analysis on race, history, and criminal justice. Their work has expanded beyond the names on the Justice Department’s list, archiving documents in over 1,000 cases of racially motivated homicides.

With support from the CRRJ, FRONTLINE reporters gathered what could be known about the individuals on the list, conducting interviews with family, friends and witnesses, delving into newspaper archives and gathering documentation including headstone applications, draft cards and archival photographs.

At the heart of the project has been a drive to center the voices of the families of those on the list. FRONTLINE partnered with StoryCorps to record nearly two dozen oral histories with victims’ next of kin, which are featured both in the web-based interactive and traveling AR exhibit. These oral histories will also be archived in the National Library of Congress.

To lead the creative vision for the web experience and installation, FRONTLINE partnered with Ado Ato Pictures, a premier mixed reality studio founded by artist, filmmaker, and technologist Tamara Shogaolu.

Shogaolu rooted the visuals in the powerful symbolism of trees. In the United States, trees evoke the ideal of liberty, but also speak to an oppressive history of racially motivated violence. In Persian myth, trees are humanity’s ancestors, while in Toraja, Indonesia, they serve as sacred burial sites.

“I was really inspired by looking at the role of the tree as a symbol in American history” Shogaolu said. “It’s been looked at as a symbol of freedom, we look at it as a connector between generations, and also there’s the association of trees with racial terror.” When designing the creative vision for Un(re)solved Shogaolu wondered whether she might be able to reclaim the symbol of the tree. “As a person of color, we’re often terrified of being in isolated places in the woods. And I thought it was kind of crazy that there are natural environments that instinctually give great fear because of this connection with racial terror and I wanted to reclaim that — to turn these into beautiful spaces.”

Un(re)solved weaves imagery of trees, which also recall family ties, into patterns and textures from the American tradition of quilting. Among enslaved African Americans forbidden to read or write, quilts provided an important space to document family stories. Today, quilting remains a creative outlet rich with story and tradition for many American communities.

We invite you to enter this forest of quilted memories — a testimony to the lives of these individuals, and the multi-generational impact of their untimely, unjust loss.

(Credits to come)