If you’re a first-time visitor to this site, note that chapter 1 of the book is posted just a few screens down from this entry.
I’m flying to DC this week to appear as a guest on the Diane Rehm Show, which is produced in the studios of WAMU FM and aired there and on many other NPR affiliates. Showtime (eastern time) is 11 AM to 12 Noon, live, on Wednesday, June 16th.
The topic: the 50th anniversary of To Kill a Mockingbird. I’ll be there (in part) to offer input on what cases like the trial of Tom Robinson were really like back in the 30s and 40s. I’ve read the book a few times, of course, so I’ll be yapping away about the main subject at hand. Should be a great time. For more information on this excellent radio program, go here:
Later that day in Baltimore, I’ll be a guest on Michael Eric Dyson’s Show, which originates on the campus of Morgan State University. Not sure yet when that will be broadcast.
Just writing to remind friends and relatives in the Mississippi and New Orleans spheres of influence that I’ll be there the week after Memorial Day, all week. Here’s the Jackson, Miss., rundown. If you’re in one of other towns I’m hitting, email me and I’ll give you more precise info. firstname.lastname@example.org
Thanks to everybody who helped me put this trip together. You know who you are.
Tuesday in Jackson
12 Noon at the Mississippi Department of Archives and History building, 200 North Street, downtown Jackson.
Go to the main entrance and there should be more exact information about where to head once you’re inside. I’ll be presenting a talk and slide show about the Willie McGee case, with guest-shot heroics from my friend Dr. Luke Lampton, who researched the case years ago as a college student and generously shared his taped interviews with me.
5:30 P.M. at Lemuria Books
202 Banner Hall
4465 I-55 North
More of the same that afternoon at Jackson’s coolest bookstore!
I’m in Oxford on Wednesday (Overby Center at Ole Miss at 9 A.M., and Square Books that afternoon, at 5 PM), Greenwood on Thursday at Turnrow Books, Laurel area on Friday (no scheduled venue there, alas, but I’m still hoping and working on it), and New Orleans over the weekend, with a Sunday afternoon appearance at Garden District Books.
Fun times ahead . . .
I’ll be in Mississippi and environs the week after Memorial Day, with campaign stops in Oxford, Greenwood, Jackson, and New Orleans. I’m also trying to set up an event in Laurel itself, but that’s been tricky. The McGee case, obviously, is still a sore subject there.
Full schedule to follow, but I’ll be starting out in Jackson on Tuesday, June 1st. At noon, I’ll do an event at the Mississippi Department of Archives and History in downtown Jackson. That night, I’ll be at Lemuria Books, a great bookstore on Jackson’s north side. At both places, I’ll be bloviating and presenting a slide show of archival images from the case. At MDAH, I’ll be joined (I hope) by Dr. Luke Lampton, a Mississippi physician who taped interviews with several principals in the McGee case back in the late 1980s, and who was kind enough to share these.
Looking forward to being in Mississippi again!
Review and Q & A on Art Taylor’s book blog. Great questions. As you’ll see, we soon get into my thoughts about the weird way this case has been factually mangled over the years. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
Review of and Q & A about The Eyes of Willie McGee today on Purple State of Mind, a great Web site devoted to finding “common ground” in political and social discussions. Smart questions from Purple State’s John H. Marks. Go here.
My friend Jim Leeson—to whom The Eyes of Willie McGee is dedicated—died earlier this week, in a manner that left hundreds of people who knew and loved him shocked and saddened but not completely surprised. Jim took his own life, and his body was found in the countryside close to where he lived, in a beautiful home he’d designed and built himself on a woodsy ridge south of Nashville, Tennessee. Part of Jim’s famously independent nature was a dread of becoming an invalid, of having to be taken care of and losing control of his own fate. He’d been suffering various health problems for a while, and he had a nagging sense that his memory was eroding, so he obviously decided the time was now. Many people who knew him assumed he might go out this way at some point. We just didn’t think it would be so heartbreakingly soon. You can read a lot more about him at this great page set up by E. Thomas Wood, a Nashville journalist and a former student of Jim’s.
As for my two cents . . . It’s hard to describe Leeson to anybody who didn’t already know him, but he was a man who influenced a huge number of lives through a unique combination of personality, humor, contrariness, talent, caring, and generosity. I met him in 1978 at Vanderbilt University, where he served throughout the seventies and into the eighties as the advisor for student publications. His role was pretty loosely defined: He came in twice a week in one of his wrinkled suits, smelling like hay or manure (back then, he lived on a bigger piece of property where he kept cattle and horses) as he held court in a small office that was always full of magazines, newspapers, and students.
Leeson didn’t have formal control over what we wrote or published, though he would offer advice any time you asked for it. People often remember him for preaching the value of pure objectivity in journalism and nonfiction. What I remember is his emphasis on the value of letting us screw up, making our own mistakes and dealing with the consequences. I made plenty of them, so I should know. At various points during my student-journalism career, I OD’d on the attention you could get by using the blunt tool of being bratty and offensive. Outwardly, I would laugh off the criticism I received. Inwardly, I was bothered by it. Jim, true to form, saw through my posturing and quietly helped me come to terms with the fact that I had some growing up to do.
Since I stayed close to Jim over the years—we even went on a couple of restaurant-binge vacations together, including one to New Orleans just before I started working on the Willie McGee project—people would sometimes ask if I regarded him as a father figure.
No, not really. I had a father who worked just fine as a father figure, and it was he who changed my life by suggesting out of the blue one day that I transfer to Vanderbilt from the state college I was attending in Kansas. My dad, Dr. Kenneth M. Heard, grew up in Oxford, Mississippi, and went to Ole Miss, so like many Southerners he knew that Vanderbilt had a reputation for housing a top-notch English department. Since English seemed to be what I was interested in—however vaguely—he broached the subject one day, during a typically not-wordy conversation between us that went something like this.
“I think you should apply to Vanderbilt. You seem like you want to be a writer, and they have a real literary tradition there.”
“Okay.” Pause. “Where is it?”
My dad was losing a battle with lung cancer at that time, so it was no small thing that I went off to a school so far away. (I now think it was generous of him, selfish of me.) When he died in 1979, I was, as it happened, at Leeson’s farm, taking part in a springtime picnic and softball game that he hosted for students every year. My family had been trying to find me all day—no cell phones, of course—and they finally called Leeson’s place and got him on the line.
Once he knew the basics, he came out and pulled me off the softball field, took me inside, and gave me the news with a mix of understanding and compassion that I’ll always remember. No, he wasn’t my father—he was a friend and mentor who just happened to be 27 years older than me. But on that day—and on a lot of days—he treated me like a son.