Caliph Washington's life was never supposed to matter. As a black teenager from the vice-ridden city of Bessemer, Alabama, Washington was wrongfully convicted of killing an Alabama policeman in 1957. Sentenced to death, he came within minutes of the electric chair-nearly a dozen times. A Kafka-esque legal odyssey in which Washington's original conviction was overturned three times before he was finally released in 1972, his story is the kind that pervades the history of American justice. Here, in the hands of historian S. Jonathan Bass, Washington's ordeal and life are rescued from anonymity and become a moving parable of one man's survival and perseverance in a hellish system. He Calls Me by Lightning is both a compelling legal drama and a fierce depiction of the Jim Crow South that forces us to take account of the lives cast away by systemic racism.
Wow...what a story. One can only imagine the countless number of people who went through the same thing Mr. Washington went through but never got justice. Thank God for the various organizations, and good people who helped secure Mr. Washington's freedom, and those who continue to fight for justice today.
I read two harsh books at the same time (via Kindle - City of Thorns) and via book He Calls Me Lightning. The unfairness, suffering, and torture was overwhelming. What horrible actions humans will take against each other often feeling justified; and without any pangs of remorse or ethical conscious. I kept wondering what kind of man Caliph would have grown to be if circumstances would have been different. I am also thankful for the bravery of the people that did help him. One o'clock in the morning is not a good time to finish a book like this, but I could not put the story down and will probably be thinking of it the rest of the night.
A very thought-provoking book. It tells the story of a 17 year old black youth in Bessemer Alabama whose real life is a story of Greek tragedian proportions. It begins in 1957, a coal mining town as the name "Bessemer" alludes to, where the population is white and black and the division between the races runs wide and deep.
The wonder is that this young man endured three trials, sat on death row for over 5 years where his sentence was stayed more than a dozen times by no less a segregationist than the legendary George Wallace. Washington was finally convicted in 1970 but the decision was overturned and he finally went free although his case remained open until 2001 when it was finally dismissed. Caliph died on May 24, 2001 and the dismissal was signed June 21, 2001.
The law, law enforcers, politicians, judges and the white citizens of the State of Alabama all conspired actively and/or passively against Caliph Washington (and around the country thousands like him) but in the end he found God and turned to helping those like himself who came from the greatest ignorance and poverty.
If only we could say that the country has moved forward significantly from the "Jim Crow" era.
My rating is probably about 2.5 stars. Took me forever to read because I never really found it compelling enough to really dig into. If you are the least bit familiar with the Jim Crow South, this book doesn't break any new ground. On top of that, I didn't find Caliph Washington all that sympathetic of a character. Yeah, he got the shaft from the judicial system, and the police initiated the precipitating event. But I never felt it was clear cut that Caliph Washington didn't commit the crime of which he was accused. With that sort of doubt hanging over my thinking, it dulled the impact of the legal chicanery. I think it's vitally important--now more than ever--that we continue to unearth the stories of racism and systematic oppression that are the foundation of incidents like Charlottesville and the rise of our current president* so people might understand and empathize with the plight of racial and ethnic minorities. I just don't think this story is the one to do it.
Ugh. I tried so hard to stay with this book. It just got to the point that the author was going way too far into detail about things that really had little to do with Washington’s story. Like, do we really need minute details about a prison Washington never stayed at? Or the life story of the creator of Alabama’s Electric Chair?? The narrative was much more interesting when the author stayed on topic.
I wanted to find out what happened but I just couldn’t waste anymore time trying to get through the mundane parts.
I'm glad I read this--a story well worth telling, horrifying as it is. The material is almost too rich--the author can't help taking bird walks to describe every lady colorful character--and sometimes I was impatient with the lack of a stronger narrative through line. We'd lose track of Caliph for pages and pages while we learned about Bessemer elections and police corruption. And the author doesn't use past perfect when it's necessary, but that's a quibble. It's a fine book, the writing is usually very lively, and it tells a forgotten history worth remembering.
It took me multiple tries to get through this book. Essentially it tries to do too much with too little. Caliph Washington is a passive character in his own story, which, while not his fault as he's trapped in jail, is made even more boring and slow by the narrative's meandering from one topic to another. There are too many points of focus, too many characters great and small, and just not enough heart and soul in any of it. I'm pretty disappointed, considering this book is very timely, as we watch Alabama once more try to implode itself (this time by choosing a pedophile) rather than allow progress. Overall slow, disjointed, and too wide a focus with far too much detail into legalese that is probably an interesting read to a law student but left this reader bored and skimming. Not a book on civil rights issues that I could recommend to anyone, which is disappointing because I think underneath the drudgery is a good study of ugly history and abuse.
I feel like Caliph Johnson's story got lost in this book, just like his life and case got lost (not cared about) in the Alabama justice system. This book had way too much "other stuff" going on. I still don't get the connection between Caliph and the corpse of Hazel Farris. The author's note actually made me bump this up to 3 stars. He explained how hard it was to really go back and research Caliph Johnson, that all he really had to go by were court records. I'm glad we got a glimpse at Caliph's story, but that's all it was.
I bought this after Timothy B. Tyson’s review in the May 19 New York Times. I quite agree with Tyson’s point that you can’t have too many books about the civil rights movement, but we could ask for better editing. It’s not that I dislike the interruptions in the story to tell the larger story of Bessemer, AL—in fact some of the most interesting parts of the book are about the history of the town, the corruption of its political life, its violence, and its labor struggles. It’s just that sometimes I felt a bit lost in the detail.
The story of the civil rights movement in Birmingham is told remarkably well in 'Carry Me Home,' but was the case of Caliph Washington at the center of the story in nearby Bessemer, or was it the case that kept falling through the cracks because of limited resources on the part of the NAACP, the ACLU, and the individual lawyers? Washington clearly wasn’t guilty of first degree murder, but North or South, if a cop gets killed, almost always someone is made to pay. Whether they’re guilty or innocent usually seems almost irrelevant. Finally, a group of people came together specifically around the case of Caliph Washington, and raised money and paid lawyers. Alabama never formally dropped the charges while he was alive, but the relationship of forces made it less and less likely that they could win another conviction.
The civil rights movement had a huge impact, but when it comes to the legal system, there are huge numbers of unarmed working people killed by cops, with a disproportionate number being African American. And the US has the dubious honor of having the largest number of prisoners in the world, both overall, and as a percentage.
Solitary confinement is still with us, as is the death penalty. Liberals have remarkably short political memories, but
“With majority support from both parties in Congress, [William] Clinton signed legislation that expanded mandatory federal prison sentences and increased their length, reduced protections against arbitrary search and seizure by cops and courts, increased property seizures before trials, and financed a record increase of more murderously armed cops on the streets. In the process, Clinton advocated and signed legislation expanding the number of federal crimes subject to capital punishment, laying justified claim to the shameful designation, the ‘death-penalty president.’
“Even before entering the White House, at the opening of the 1992 Democratic Party presidential race, the Clintons—Bill and Hillary arm in arm—took time off from stumping in the hotly contested New Hampshire primary to fly back to Arkansas, not to commute the death sentence of brain-damaged prisoner Ricky Ray Rector but to demonstratively preside over his grisly execution.”
The above is from 'The Clintons’ Anti-Working-Class Record.' I also recommend 'The Cuban Five Talk About Their Lives Within the US Working-Class' and 'Malcolm X, Black Liberation, and the Road to Workers Power.' Then there’s the misnamed 'The New Jim Crow,' which has good factual information, but which is too mired in liberalism to offer any real solutions.
I recently saw someone try to blame the frame-up of The Central Park Five on Donald Trump, because he had offered a reward, but the fact is most of the liberal press was howling for blood too, despite the fact that the only evidence was coerced confessions.
How can one make interesting the life and experiences of a benighted soul who wasted a decade of his life on death row in an Alabama prison? Jonathon Bass has done exactly that, and here’s how. His book is a study of the inequities of the criminal justice system in 1950s Alabama, where many police held memberships in the White Citizens Councils and the Ku Klux Klan and were hopping mad about the Brown v. Board ruling, the NAACP, the Montgomery bus boycotters, and Autherine Lucy—all of whom were challenging white supremacy. Describing the inequities of criminal justice in detail, as Bass did, without sensationalizing them gave them an even greater impact. For example, the police search for the renegade Washington resulted in death for three innocent black citizens and wreaked thousands of dollars of damages on innocent black householders. The disregard for black lives was indiscriminate and inescapable.
Bass painted portraits of the Alabamans, black and white, who populated this morality tale. It was enjoyable to learn of some of the less heralded blacks in the vanguard of the civil rights movement in Alabama, like the lawyer who defended Caliph Washington, David Hood, and the fearless union organizer and socialist, Asbury Howard. He gave a short dissertation on the history of convict leasing, which Alabama was the last to abandon in 1928, as well as the eventual movement in the state to build prisons like Kilby near Montgomery and the Atmore Prison Farm on an isolated tract in Escambia County, 50 miles north of both Mobile and Pensacola, Florida. He offered a thorough description of same-sex sexual activity and the subsequent same-sex relationships at the Atmore Prison Farm. He gave a history of electrocution as punishment for capital crimes and described at length how Alabama’s first electric chair, Big Yellow Mama, was crafted by hand.
He wrote a whole chapter on the accession of George Corley Wallace to the Governor’s seat in 1963 in Montgomery. It turned out that the hardline segregationist governor had a soft spot in his heart for death row inmates, and he reprieved Washington’s sentence 13 times. You will have to read the book to find out if Caliph Washington ultimately got strapped into the electric chair.
This review is not an endorsement of amazon.com or any business owned by Jeff Bezos. Books for my reviews were checked out from a public library, purchased from a local brick-and-mortar book shop, or ordered from my favorite website for rare and out-of-print books.
A must read in understanding the current state of Alabama politics and the continued life breathed into Jim Crow mentality through policy and power. It exists to this day, not because people keep "dragging up" the topic and the pain of the past, but because it NEVER left the dna of Alabama. Sadly, it never will.
Caliph Washington was still sitting in prison when I was a baby in the early 70's! I was taught in primary Alabama education that Jim Crow was a "thing of the past." Right.
I didn't know much of the specific history of Bessemer other than a frustrating personal experience in trying to reinstate my AL DL there after living outside the State for 20 years. Many DMV offices in the area were closed down due to "financial" reasons. It felt much more like reducing valid ID access to thwart voting participation. A classic AL tactic. I had to go far out of my way to find a DMV location with a relatively short waiting line. I was astounded at how broken and forgotten the downtown Bessemer area felt. The hard edge and dilapidation of Bessemer is obvious by simply driving the streets. The skeletons of the past are on full display. It was both fascinating and excruciating all at once. I'll never forget the impact of that experience.
I ran across this book title in looking for books on Alabama history. I saw the reference to Bessemer and decided to read it based on my own personal observations of the city. It explains so much about the city's reputation. Unplanned, I started reading this book before the final stages of the Ahmaud Arbery trial were televised. The verdict was announced before I finished this book. I couldn't help but see parallels between the cases in the way racism continues to hold on in our legal system, in plain sight. We pray to always see real justice succeed in such cases. This book proves that true justice is more often delayed.
Caliph Washington's family were not "as fortunate" as the Arbery family. Their "resolution" in justice leaves one wanting something more concrete. What does that say for us to this day? There will always be work to be done and we must remain vigilant for equality in the face of continued racist laws and policy.
Rest in Peace, Rev. Washington. Thank you for being a testament to hope in the face of blatant racism and injustice in Alabama.
The story itself wrenched my heart out of my chest, that we could treat other human beings in this manner and yet, I couldn't help but notice the parallels from the late 50's to the early 60's with today's climate. The only issue I had with the book was that sometimes there was more history or explanation than there was story, particularly the story of trying to integrate the jails. The only thing that had to do with Caliph Washington was that his "brand" was used to further the fight, but integration didn't come about as expected and did nothing for Mr. Washington, himself. And it bogged down the book with all the explanation. Every time I read one of these books, I am literally shocked that white folks cannot seem to understand the terror the black folks felt when police were near. It just boggles my mind that they would expect black folks to have the same sort of relationship they enjoy with the police and then be all bent out of shape when someone says, yeah....no. Even in 2017, some white folks say, well if he had just stopped or followed the law or whatever...seriously? If you have been persecuted all your life by the actions and words of white folks, would you seriously not think twice about stopping for a white cop? Even if you did nothing wrong?
Justice delayed is justice denied. Caliph was found guilty of murder of a racially motivated Police Officer that certainly sounded like self-defense or man slaughter at the worse. The Window even had a second trial that found the incident an accident so that she could get the insurance money from her husband’s death. The author builds the long drawn out emotional story of Jim Crow South intimidation of Caliph who the law system saw as an inferior black man without full rights who struggled through hopelessness and despair forgotten by his legal council locked up as a victim to the system and the times as he awaited his appeal and retrials over decades. Even after he finally got out of prison, the real possibility of getting pulled back into prison due to his open case always hung over his head and weighed on his soul. His case wasn’t ever fully settled until after his death when his case was officially dismissed shortly after his death.
As a resident of Birmingham and a devoted history fan I loved this book. Bass is an excellent writer. I agree with some other commenters that I am uncertain on whether Caliph is actually guilty or not. But honestly that's neither here nor there. The lawlessness of the police in the Jim Crow South is staggering. My only criticism is when introducing new characters (for lack of a better term) Bass sometimes tells us too much about them. But he is a History professor and that's the nature of the profession. Let me reiterate his prose is simply beautiful.
The material here is interesting and tragic, but unfortunately it isn't told in a very compelling way. The author rambles a fair amount and it gets rather tedious at times. The writing is rather sub-par. To see how Southern civil rights history should be written, check out Gilbert King books such as Devil in the Grove or The Execution of Willie Francis. No matter what level of interest you have in the subject, I guarantee King's prose will draw you into the events and people involved.
Very eye opening book. Gives a real picture of race injustices and the issues that surround segregation. How slow the wheels of justice turn but not always with the best intentions. This is a true story that is well documented and well written. I recommend to anyone who feels we have come a long way toward mending racial bias - because we have not- we have only begun to acknowledge the issues. Now is time to do something.
This book felt like it could have been accomplished in a long-form magazine article. So much was unnecessary and felt like it was just being included to make the book longer. The one thing that kept me reading was to find out was how Caliph finally made it out, and then that part was just glossed over at the very end. Sadly, this book just goes to show how little has changed, both in the criminal justice system and with regards to police brutality.
I am very glad I read this book. The author does a good, meticulous job, of telling the story of Caliph Washington’s arrest in 1957 in Bessemer, Alabama for killing a police officer. It is a story that reveals the shame and racism of structures of injustice. Over and over throughout this story one sees not only the 50s through the early 2000s, but one sees our own day and age. I’m very grateful for the witness of this book.
This book portrays the despair of the Jim Crow legal system for many Americans who did not happen to be white. Caliph Washington fought this despair and was a pawn in the vast mechanisms of the both the Alabama and federal systems. The author does a superb job of looking at all of the trials in the context of the time and grants the reader a view of the emotions and not just the legal aspects of the case.
I just finished the audiobook for this incredible story, finally told in its entirety by the great S Jonathan Bass! The story of Caliph Washington and his life's far-reaching effects on Alabama law (and US law too!) was fastidiously researched and extremely well thought-out; but it was also heart-rending, educational, uplifting, funny at times, condemning, and inspiring as well. I cannot recommend it enough, and am so honored that I got to learn from the author during my time at Samford.
Fills in some gaps in understanding how Jim Crow worked in the Justice system (way beyond the convict lease issue).
When you read about all the missteps in the case, and the clear bias at times, it really makes you think about the disproportionate representation of people of color on death row and in our correctional system at large.
Not at all compelling, in fact mostly boring and a slog to get through. Caliph Washington was just not the person around whom to build a case for the gross injustices of the Jim Crow south. A much better book on the same theme is Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson. Skip this book and read that one. You won’t be disappointed.
We must be compassionate to the trials and tribulations of others, and hope for a better world because we have tried to understand how we came to cross paths in living together. This book explores one black man’s oppression and should be a part of everyone’s education when striving to improve life for mankind.
Enlightening and sad story about Caliph Washington's fate in Alabama's legal system of the 1950's - 1970's . My only complaint about this book is that it was super heavy in case law and history - by the end I was skimming some sections.
There were (and are) many interesting stories in the well researched and well written story. But the one that sticks out is that it was Governor George Wallace who granted Mr Washington 13 stays of execution because of his own discomfort with the death penalty. Who knew?
This ended up being a sort of rambling history of every politician and related case to civil rights in Alabama. It could have been done well, but the random devolving into entire careers of people made it tough to stay engaged.
It's an interesting story but not a particularly surprising one if you know anything about racial justice in the 1950s South, and nor particularly well told.