Carie Brumfield
Age 53
A Black Louisiana shipyard worker
Franklinton, Louisiana
September 10, 1967
Carie Brumfield was a 53-year-old shipyard worker found dead in his car on September 11, 1967, in a rural area of Franklinton, Louisiana. According to a newspaper report from the time of his death, Brumfield’s car was reported by a local resident who noticed that it had been parked in the same spot overnight. When police arrived to investigate, they found Brumfield’s body. He had been shot once in the chest at close range with a .22 caliber revolver, which was also found in the car.
Initial Investigation
When Washington Parish deputies arrived on the scene, they first suspected suicide, according to a Department of Justice memo about the case. Based on the position of Brumfield’s hands, however, which were under the steering wheel, they concluded he had been murdered. A local newspaper reported at the time that the state crime lab director was called to the scene for fingerprints, and an autopsy was done, but neither the news report nor the DOJ memo include details of what those analyses yielded. The article further stated that there was an ongoing investigation into the case, but the DOJ memo provides no additional details. No arrests were made in connection with the crime.
Till Act Status
The Southern Poverty Law Center referred the case to the Department of Justice, and the FBI reopened it in 2007.
That year, the FBI interviewed one of Brumfield’s brothers. He believed Brumfield had been shot by a coworker, who robbed and killed him after Brumfield had given him a ride. At that time, the brother did not believe the crime had been racially motivated. The suspected killer was later arrested on another murder charge and confessed to killing Brumfield. The suspect, whose name was redacted in FBI documents, was never charged for Brumfield’s murder.
After unsuccessful attempts to find original files related to the case or to uncover new information, the case was closed in 2013. According to the FBI, the crime was not determined to have been motivated by race and could not be prosecuted under civil rights laws. Additionally, the only subject identified was already deceased.
In the Department of Justice memo closing the case, Brumfield’s first name is spelled “Carrie.” A draft card and headstone application identify the victim as “Carie.”
Case Status closed
Closed 09/24/2013
Themes
- Closed All Subjects Deceased
- Closed Cases
- 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)