the streets of Clanton were gridlocked. Deserted cars, vans, and buses were scattered haphazardly through parking lots and along the quiet residential streets. A steady stream of blacks walked toward the square from all directions. Traffic did not move. Driveways were blocked. Merchants parked blocks away from their shops. The mayor stood in the center of the gazebo, wringing his hands and begging Ozzie to do something. Around him thousands of blacks swarmed and yelled in perfect unison. Ozzie asked the mayor if he wanted him to start arresting everybody on the courthouse lawn.
Noose parked at a service station a half mile south of the jail, and walked with a group of blacks to the courthouse. They watched him curiously, but said nothing. No one would suspect he was a person of authority. Buckley and Musgrove parked in a driveway on Adams Street. They cursed and walked toward the square. They noticed the pile of rubble that had been Jake's house but said nothing. They were too busy cursing. With state troopers leading the way, the Greyhound from Temple reached the square at twenty minutes after nine. Through the dark windows, the fourteen passengers stared in disbelief at the carnival around the courthouse.
Mr. Pate called the packed courtroom to order, and Noose welcomed his jury. He apologized for the trouble outside, but there was nothing he could do. If there were no problems to report, they could continue deliberations.
"Very well, you may retire to the jury room and get to work. We will meet again just before lunch."
The jurors filed out and went to the jury room. The Hailey children sat with their father at the defense table. The spectators, now predominantly black, remained seated and struck up conversations. Jake returned to his office.
Foreman Acker sat at the end of the long, dusty table and thought of the hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Ford Countians who had served in this room and sat around this table and argued about justice over the past century. Any pride he may have felt for serving on the jury of the most famous case was greatly overshadowed by what happened last night. He wondered how many of his predecessors had been threatened with death. Probably a few, he decided.
The others fixed their coffee and slowly found seats around the tables. The room brought back fond memories for Clyde Sisco. Prior jury duty had proved lucrative for him, and he relished the thought of another handsome payoff for another just and true verdict. His messenger had not contacted him.
"How would y'all like to proceed?" the foreman asked.
Rita Mae Plunk had an especially hard and unforgiving look about her. She was a rough woman with a house trailer, no husband, and two outlaws for sons, both of whom had expressed hatred for Carl Lee Hailey. She had a few things she wanted to get off her large chest.
"I got a few things I wanna say," she informed Acker.
"Fine. Why don't we start with you, Miss Plunk, and go around the table."
"I voted guilty yesterday in the first vote, and I'll vote guilty next time. I don't see how anybody could vote not guilty, and I want just one of you to explain to me how you could vote in favor of this nigger!"
"Don't say that word again!" yelled Wanda Womack.
"I'll say 'nigger' if I wanna say 'nigger,' and there ain't a damned thing you can do," replied Rita Mae.
"Please don't use that word," said Frances McGowan.
"I find it personally offensive," said Wanda Womack.
"Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger, Nigger," Rita Mae yelled across the table.
"Come on," said Clyde Sisco.
"Oh boy," said the foreman. "Look, Miss Plunk, let's be honest, okay. Most of us use that word, from time to time.
I'm sure some of us use it more than others. But it's offensive to many people, and I think it'd be a good idea not to use it during our deliberations. We've got enough to worry about as it is. Can we all agree not to use that word?"
Everyone nodded but Rita Mae.
Sue Williams decided to answer. She was well dressed, attractive, about forty. She worked for the county welfare department. "I didn't vote yesterday. I passed. But I tend to sympathize with Mr. Hailey. I have a daughter, and if she was raped, it would greatly affect my mental stability. I can understand how a parent might crack in that situation, and I think it's unfair for us to judge Mr. Hailey as if he was supposed to