Isaiah Henry

Age 38

A Black bus driver who helped neighbors study for voting tests

Greensburg, Louisiana

July 28, 1954

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Isaiah Henry’s case is a rare entry in the list of cases reexamined as part of the Department of Justice’s Cold Case Initiative, in that Henry did not die in the incident that was investigated.

Henry was a 38-year-old Black school bus driver and farmer in Louisiana. He and his wife, Lillie, helped neighbors study for voter registration tests. On July 28, 1954, one day after Henry had voted in a primary election, he was found severely beaten on the side of the road in St. Helena Parish, Louisiana. He was taken to a hospital and had a metal plate placed in his head. 

According to a 2007 article published in The Advocate, which drew heavily on an interview with Henry’s son, he never fully recovered from the beating. Henry died on May 2, 1973. 

Initial Investigation

According to a DOJ memo, which cites the Advocate article, in August 1954, Police Juror Lester Hornsby and Saint Helena Parish Sheriff’s Office Deputy Carl Womak were arrested and charged with the kidnapping and attempted murder of Henry, but neither was ever indicted. Womak worked at the polling place where Henry had voted the day before he was beaten. Henry’s son believed his father’s political involvement triggered the assault. Hornsby died in 1981 and Womak died in 1996.

Till Act Status

The FBI initiated a review of the case in 2008. According to the DOJ memo, although Henry was severely beaten, he died of unrelated causes more than 20 years later. As such, the five-year statute of limitations on non-death resulting violations of the federal criminal civil rights statutes would prevent a prosecution. Additionally, all identified suspects in the case had died.

The case was closed in 2012. 

Case Status closed

Closed 05/21/2012

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)