Gwendolyn Glover

Age 28

A Black mother of three from Texas

San Antonio, Texas

April 8, 1969

Gwendolyn Glover, a Black woman and mother of three, was found dead in a field on April 8, 1969. A public worker discovered her body near a power station in San Antonio, along with sunglasses, a $5 bill and 35 cents. Someone had sexually assaulted Glover and shot her four times in the face at close range. The exact date of her death is unknown, although a close friend told police that Glover had been seen alive two days earlier. While a Department of Justice memo identifies the victim as Ann Thomas and references Gwendolyn Glover as another name by which she was known, her legal name was Gwendolyn Glover.

Initial Investigation

The San Antonio Police Department investigated Glover’s murder and questioned one possible suspect, a 33-year-old Black man called Stanley Roberson. People who knew Glover told officers they suspected Roberson because he was known to assault women he believed were prostitutes. Glover had been arrested for either prostitution or vagrancy at least 26 times, most recently two days before her death, according to a Department of Justice memo on the case. One witness also told police that Glover had gotten into a car similar to the one Roberson drove days before she died.

Roberson denied being involved in Glover’s murder and offered to take a polygraph test. The police report did not give more details about the investigation into Roberson, who died in 2002.

Till Act Status

The FBI began a review of the case in January 2009, based on old newspaper articles about Glover’s death and records from the homicide unit of the San Antonio Police Department.

The case was closed on April 15, 2010, with a DOJ memo citing a lack of evidence that Glover had been killed due to her race. Moreover, the relevant statute of limitations had run out, and no suspects had been identified, other than Roberson, who was dead.

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)