The Lynching of Roosevelt Grigsby

   Unlike some of the states of the Deep South, Missouri saw about as many white men as black men lynched during the late 1800s and early 1900s. This is not to say that blacks and whites were treated equally. No way! In the first place, even though the total number of whites lynched equaled or perhaps even exceeded the number of blacks lynched in Missouri, the proportion of blacks lynched as a ratio of the population was much greater. Also, black men were lynched more indiscriminately. Usually, when white men were lynched, there was pretty strong evidence against them and the offense of which they were accused was very serious. This wasn't necessarily the case with black men. They were often lynched on scant evidence and/or for relatively minor offenses, especially if the alleged offense involved a sexual advance toward a white woman. The lynching of Roosevelt Grigsby of Charleston, Missouri, is a case in point.
   About 6:00 p.m. on Thursday, December 18, 1924, Kathryn McFadden, a sixteen-year-old high school girl, started on foot with her younger sister from the confectionary store where Kathryn worked in Charleston to the girls' home a few blocks away. The girls were on North Elm Street just a couple of blocks from their house when a young black man jumped out from behind a fence and accosted them. He grabbed Kathryn and started dragging her across the street, but her and her sister's screams aroused the neighborhood and scared the attacker off.
   Kathryn had her dress torn and was in a "hysterical condition," according to the Charleston Times, when she was interviewed by law officers. However, she said she recognized her assailant because he had previously worked briefly at the confectionary where she was employed part-time. She identified the young man as Roosevelt Grigsby, who was about 21 years of age.
   Grigsby, who had previously served a stint in the state reformatory for an attempted assault on another young white woman in Charleston, was located at his home and brought to the Mississippi County sheriff's office in Charleston. Several other young black men were also rounded up for questioning. Grigsby admitted being in the vicinity of where the attempted assault had occurred, but he described two other young black men he claimed to have seen running from the area.
   Under questioning, Grigsby soon broke down and confessed, according to the local newspaper. About 8:30 p.m., after word of the alleged confession had spread throughout town, a mob, numbering at least 200, surrounded the sheriff's office. About half that number made a rush on the office and forcibly took Grigsby from the officers who were guarding him. The officers "attempted to interfere," according to the sheriff, "but were pushed aside."
   Grigsby maintained his composure and made no attempt to escape until after he was dragged from the room and into the street, where he began to scream and resist. Outside, he was attacked by several members of the mob as he was dragged to a tree on the east side of the sheriff's office. Someone produced a rope, and as the mob attempted to place the noose around Grigsby's neck, someone else struck him with the butt of a revolver, rendering him unconscious. One end of the rope was placed around his neck, and the other was thrown over a limb about fourteen feet off the ground. The victim did not appear to be conscious as he was drawn up.
   As the body swung back and forth, someone from the crowd fired a shot into it. After the body had hung for about thirty minutes, it was cut down, attached to the rear of an automobile, and dragged through the streets. With the mob traipsing along behind, the procession wound through the black district of Charleston, or the "bad lands," as local residents called the area. Several black families fled in fear after the lynching and the gruesome parade through their neighborhood.
   As the final act in the mob's cruel demonstration, Grigsby's body was tossed on a bonfire built near the intersection of Marshall and Elm and allowed to burn for some considerable time, with many in the mob hanging around until near midnight.
   Declaring that he planned to call a special grand jury, prosecuting attorney J. C. McDowell promptly launched an investigation into the lynching, but he got no cooperation. The mob was unmasked when they stormed the sheriff's office, and the sheriff and his deputies followed them outside when they dragged Grigsby from the office. However, the sheriff said it was too dark for him or his deputies to get a good look at any of the vigilantes and that he wasn't sure of the identify of any of them. A coroner's jury concluded the next day, December 19, that Grigsby had come to his death by lynching at the hands of a mob unknown to the jurors. McDowell enlisted the aid of the Missouri attorney general's office but to no avail. McDowell's successor, due to take office in January, announced that, on the advice of the circuit judge, he would not call a special grand jury but would, instead, wait for the next regular grand jury during the February term of court to take up the matter, since potential witnesses who refused to testify could not be punished while court was not in session. When the regular grand jury convened in February, it called at least twenty witnesses, but the jury announced after ten days that it had not obtained enough evidence to return a true bill against any of the lynchers. Thus, another lynch mob went unpunished.