Ernest Jells
Age 21
A young Black man who had been out with friends
Clarksdale, Mississippi
September 20, 1963
Ernest Jells, a 21-year-old Black man, had been out with friends on the night of September 20, 1963. Sometime after 11 p.m., he went to a grocery store in Clarksdale, Mississippi, where the store owner accused him of stealing a banana. The store owner reported that after he retrieved a banana from Jells’ pocket, Jells “reached back as if to grab a weapon.” The store owner said he then put Jells in a “head-lock,” shoved him out of the store and called the police.
According to a Department of Justice memo citing local news reports from the time of the incident, about a half-hour later, Clarksdale Police Lieutenant Henry Petty, Patrolman B.F. Moore Jr. and Assistant Chief John Mitchell saw Jells on a street corner holding a rifle. The three officers gave chase, at which point Jells climbed up to the roof of a building, reportedly ignored orders to drop his weapon and instead aimed his rifle at the officers.
Officers Petty and Moore fired, hitting Jells in the neck, left shoulder and left arm. Jells fell off the roof and landed on power lines. Sometime later, the grocery store owner, accompanied by Clarksdale police officers, saw Jells lying dead on the street near his store, with a rifle lying nearby.
Initial Investigation
According to the DOJ memo, a coroner’s inquest was held the day after the shooting. A Black witness testified she saw Jells running with a rifle, while the officers chased him and told him to stop. The inquest returned a ruling of justifiable homicide.
Two days after the shooting, a county judge held a preliminary hearing. At the hearing, members of Jells’ family protested after hearing testimony that he had held the rifle on his right shoulder, since he had been left-handed. The judge dismissed all charges against the officers.
Till Act Status
In 2008, the FBI initiated a review of the circumstances surrounding Jells’ death.
The FBI interviewed multiple witnesses who knew Jells but were not present at the shooting. The FBI learned some people believed Jells wasn’t killed due to the incident in the grocery store but because he dated a woman who also dated white men. Witnesses also told agents that Jells’ rifle disappeared on the night of the shooting.
The FBI sought records from the Mississippi Bureau of Investigation, the Mississippi Attorney General’s Office, the Clarksdale Police Department and the Coahoma County Sheriff’s Office, but none had any relevant files. Agents also sent letters to the Southern Poverty Law Center and the NAACP, but according to the DOJ memo, they received no response.
Citing the deaths of the officers who shot Jells, as well as a statute of limitations, the FBI closed the case in 2010.
Case Status closed
Closed 04/16/2010
Themes
- Closed All Subjects Deceased
- Closed Cases
- Deaths Involving Law Enforcement
- 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)