Jasper Greenwood

Age 50

A Black man who ran a nightclub in his hometown

Vicksburg, Mississippi

June 29, 1964

Jasper Greenwood ran a nightclub called the Jasper Lounge in historic Vicksburg, Mississippi, near the Louisiana border. He grew up in the city and at one time babysat for the family of neighboring civil rights icon Medgar Evers — although, according to local law enforcement, Greenwood, who was Black, had no known involvement with the movement.

Greenwood disappeared at age 50, allegedly after leaving his nightclub with two white men on June 21, 1964. His body was discovered eight days later on a “lover’s lane” in Vicksburg, off the city’s Main Street, according to a 2010 Department of Justice memo about the case. Greenwood was unarmed, and a purse with $61 was found in his nearby car. His body was so decomposed, a coroner’s inquest could not determine how he died, according to the memo.

Initial Investigation

Within days of the discovery, the FBI opened a federal investigation based on the allegation that Greenwood was last seen alive with two white men. The city’s police chief, however, said that although local police suspected foul play, “the racial issue was not a factor in Greenwood’s death,” the Clarion-Ledger reported in 1964. The Vicksburg Police Department alleged Greenwood had last been seen with a married Black woman named Flossie Lee Minor, whose husband was said to have threatened Greenwood for dating his wife.

The local police department arrested Flossie Lee Minor, and she reportedly admitted that she had met Greenwood “for a tryst,” according to the 2010 Department of Justice memo. Minor denied foul play, claiming Greenwood had died of an apparent heart attack, and that she then fled the scene.

According to the DOJ memo, the FBI looked into reports that Greenwood had been shot or stabbed, based on a hole in his throat. One of the funeral home workers who prepared the body told the FBI that the hole was likely caused by “nature and the worms.”

Till Act Status

The FBI opened a review of the case in 2008, conducting multiple interviews and trying to find records about Greenwood’s death. The bureau also tried to locate Minor, but a record for someone in Missouri with the same name showed that person had died in 2005.

Without evidence to contradict that Greenwood had died of a heart attack while in Minor’s company, the Department of Justice closed the case again in 2010.

Un(re)solved

Begin the full experience

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)