Before Breonna Taylor, there was Alberta Odell Jones
In 2007, Congress authorized the United States Department of Justice Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act, funneling more than $10 million to the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the DOJ Civil Rights Division to investigate and prosecute racially motivated, unsolved murders that occurred prior to the 1970s. The legislation was reauthorized in 2016, extending the time frame prior to the 1980s.

According to the DOJ’s most recent report to Congress regarding investigations pursuant to the Act, the DOJ has opened 132 cases involving 151 people. Of these 132 cases, 116 have been prosecuted, referred, or closed. This data is not of much use because it does not note how many prosecutions translated to convictions, and witness testimony in these cases may not be viewed reliable because so much time has transpired. The death of a witness or officer assigned to the original case presents more challenges to securing a conviction.

‘Heaven and hell’

Black women have never held higher positions than a White woman in the racial hierarchy, regardless of political prowess. White women have long represented sanctity and purity in the American consciousness. Lynch mobs routinely murdered Black men accused (usually wrongfully) of sexually assaulting them, violating this understanding and code of conduct that White women were off limits.

Flora Shanklin, Jones’ younger sister who still lives in Louisville, is convinced the state’s disposing of Black women is why the murderer has never been brought to justice.

Shortly after the River Bank mural of her sister was revealed in 2017, she told the Washington Post, “Because things were still so segregated then, I believe, if she had been a White woman, they would have turned over heaven and hell to solve this.”

Jones, left, at her graduation from Howard University School of Law in 1959. (Photo Credit: WHAS11)

Shanklin’s concerns are not without merit: police departments have long histories of aiding and abetting racial terror against Blacks, particularly in the South. It was not uncommon for police officers, judges, attorneys, or even doctors to double as members of domestic terrorist organizations like the Ku Klux Klan. The Federal Bureau of Investigation confirms white supremacists have invaded police departments to aid racist agendas in a 2006 report, released unredacted two months ago.

Lee Remington, a professor at Bellarmine University in Louisville, also believed law enforcement was nonchalant. In 2013, Remington, a White woman, was conducting research for a book about Jones’ life when she discovered overlooked clues.

Local and federal law enforcement had already collected extensive evidence. Blood samples were collected from her car, found several miles from where her body was found. A fingerprint was found in the car belonging to a man who was seventeen years old at the time, but a lie detector test performed decades later proved dismal, and the man was let go without charges. Three years later, her purse, with all of its contents, was found hung from the Sherman Minton Bridge.

Remington later developed a relationship with Shanklin and other family members. In 2016, after Jones’ cousin filed a public records request, Remington reviewed the case files and told the Post she found several discrepancies.

“[…] they said all the detectives who worked on the case were dead, which is not true.”

Double trouble

Both a trailblazer and political threat, not much has changed since Alberta Odell Jones was one of the first Black women to pass the bar exam in Kentucky. According to the Reflective Democracy Campaign, a national think tank that conducts political and policy research and data analysis with a focus on race and gender, White people represent 95% of all U.S. prosecutors. Women of color, specifically, represent between 1% — 2%. The percentage of Black women prosecutors is probably even more slim.

Jones would come to represent another Louisville native: Cassius Clay, better known as Muhammad Ali. Jones far predicted the issue of financial mismanagement in sports. To prevent Ali from squandering his funds, she and the Louisville Sponsoring Group set up a trust fund Ali could not access until age 35. The LSG’s contract provided Ali with financial assistance, covered training expenses, and assisted in finding a manager.

Jones was an unsung leader in the fight for voting rights and racial justice.

In 1965, the Kentucky Court of Appeals upheld an ordinance banning racial discrimination in public accommodations in Commonwealth v. Beasy, which was one of the earliest ordinances in the nation to do so. Simultaneously, national efforts sought to outlaw structural barriers to voting access for Blacks.

Jones founded the Independent Voters Association of Louisville, because political freedom, she believed, required that Black people divest from both the Democrat and Republican parties. Both parties would need to fight for the support of one of the most crucial voting blocs in America today. Using rented voting machines, the organization helped more than 6,000 Blacks register to vote.

In early September of this year, local activists announced the creation of the Alberta Odell Jones Independent Voters Association. The organization aims to help non-incarcerated and formerly incarcerated persons with voter registration. (Photo Credit: the National Urban League)

One can reasonably deduce that her murder was both racially and politically motivated. States largely relied upon voter registration rolls to determine jury duty eligibility ⏤ and they still do. All White juries were notorious for their erroneous convictions of Blacks. If the racial makeup of a jury pool could shift from all White to mixed-race, court outcomes might shift in favor of Blacks. Jones also spent several months charging White men accused of physically beating their wives.

Jones’ efforts matter now more than ever. In 2013, the Supreme Court decision of Shelby County v. Holder struck down Section 5 of the Voting Rights Act, which outlined pre-clearance requirements. States such as Arizona and Georgia needed to receive federal approval to change voting procedures, such as moving polling places or redistricting. In the time since, courts have found some states like North Carolina purposely used voter identification laws to suppress the Black vote.

Unfortunately, she would not see the Act pass: President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the bill into law August 6, 1965, the day after Jones’ death.

On the work ahead

The Movement for Black Lives has done an excellent job of interrogating and rejecting the “perfect victim” narrative. Be them the first Black woman prosecutor, an EMT, or the drug-addicted mother struggling to feed her children, all Black women are deserving and worthy of visibility without condition. Black women are not only as valuable as their labor, but it is striking that a groundbreaking bearer of justice could not receive it in death while they fought for it in life.

The DOJ admits that investigating and prosecuting cold cases is an uphill battle. The Louisville Metropolitan Police Department and federal government did exhaust many resources to Jones’ case, and one could argue that these efforts undermine the idea that she was ever forgotten. That the federal government ⏤ which is itself guilty of orchestrating highly sophisticated efforts to undermine civil rights work ⏤ even invested funds into these efforts, is proof that America is trying to bend the proverbial moral arc in favor of Black women.

The #SayHerName demand, however, did not arise out of thin air. It is a politic, a direct response to government, both inter- and intra-racial conflict, and individual actors who are responsible for the disposal of Black women. Post-election coverage and coronavirus surges dominate the news cycle. Taylor’s story is a distant memory with each day that passes.

One day, what happened to Breonna Taylor could be as distant a memory as to what happened to Alberta Odell Jones. We must demand a shift in the role the media plays in telling the stories of Black women. As we move forward, let us say the names of Breonna Taylor, Alberta Odell Jones, and countless other Black women whose lives must be affirmed in lift just as much in death.
['Prophesier Sanctity']
['Racial Justice', 'Criminal Justice', 'Louisville', 'Breonna Taylor', 'Black Women']