Alphonso Harris
Age 36
A Black activist and singer known as "Bear" for his friendly warmth
Albany, Georgia
December 1, 1966
Alphonso Harris — known as a warm, friendly person nicknamed “The Bear” — was an active member of the Southern Christian Leadership Council (SCLC) in Georgia. His sister, Rutha Harris, was one of the original Freedom Singers, and in 1966 Alphonso signed his own contract with a recording company.
That year Harris, who was Black, joined the historic March Against Fear through Mississippi. After marchers encountered a flaming cross, he publicly condemned the KKK symbol as “a disgrace,” the Associated Press reported at the time. Harris’ name also appeared in media coverage of the subsequent Grenada Freedom Movement for desegregation, during which he reportedly led a march in Grenada, Mississippi. Although the march itself was peaceful, participants were reportedly harassed by white people throwing rocks, bottles and firecrackers.
Early in the morning of December 1, 1966, Harris was at the Les Ames Club in Albany, Georgia, when a man approached his table and asked for help, according to an old newspaper article cited in a 2010 Department of Justice memo about the case. The man had bumped into a girl at the club and then argued with her boyfriend.
He told Harris and two others at the table he was worried he was about to be shot. The group accompanied the man out of the club and ran into the boyfriend outside. The boyfriend, who was also Black, was armed with a pistol and fired a shot into the ground, according to the DOJ memo. Harris tried to take the weapon, but the pistol discharged twice during the struggle, wounding Harris in the stomach and the other man in a thigh. Harris died before he could reach a hospital.
Initial Investigation
According to the 2010 DOJ memo, the SCLC alleged that Harris might have been killed for his activism in Grenada. “The life he had he gave to the Movement,” the organization wrote in a 1966 notice about Harris’ death.
The man who shot Harris survived. A court clerk in Dougherty County, where Albany is located, told the FBI that the man was charged in 1967 with carrying a weapon without a permit. Although the clerk could not find the docket sheet with his plea, she said the man had paid a $200 fine and $45 in court costs, according to the DOJ memo. The memo does not clarify whether the charge was directly related to Harris’ death.
Till Act Status
The FBI reviewed Harris’ case starting in 2008. During the review, an agent contacted police officials and a court in Albany, as well as the Marine Corps Logistics Base, also located in Albany. The Albany Police Department told the FBI it had purged its old investigative reports. Neither did the FBI find any relevant records at the Marine Corps Logistics Base, although agents did find a local newspaper article and a copy of Harris’ death certificate.
The Department of Justice closed the case again in 2010 without prosecuting anyone. By then, the federal statute of limitations had long run out. Moreover, the man who shot Harris had already been prosecuted and sentenced for a state offense, and the federal government would not be able to meet the legal conditions to prosecute him a second time, the Department of Justice said in its 2010 memo. Per the memo, those conditions included proving, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the man had shot Harris due to his race. “Based on the available evidence it appears clear that the government could not meet its burden in this case,” the memo concluded.
Case Status closed
Closed 04/12/2010
Themes
- Closed Cases
- Closed with Living Subject
- Men
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)