1920 Minnesota Lynching 2020
Elias Clayton
Elmer Jackson
Isaac McGhie
George Floyd
Whisper their names as sacred prayer.
Again, we are painfully aware:
Justice rides a sad and lazy-dead horse.
No peace or protection from the police force.
No matter the year, date, or time:
Being a Black man in America is its own crime.
Three circus workers caught unaware
Hauled off to jail in deep despair
A single white girl crying: “They raped me!”
Yet, the doctor said that couldn’t possibly be:
No sign of assault or rape could be found.
But the mob was already standing ground.
Like hot angry vultures ready to kill—
Not for justice, but for the thrill.
The Duluth Herald - The Duluth Herald (June 1920)
Three black bodies swung that 1920 spring day;
Postcards on sale for all who will pay.
Thousands came that dreadful night.
Racism and murder feeding their sheer delight.
When the mob called out for three Black men,
The police lightly guarded the door to let them in.
A thousand in a blood thirsty mob wanted to see
The lamppost serving as the hanging tree.
Screams can still be heard at First Street and Second Avenue:
A tragedy generations can never undo.
Today no rope around the neck:
A two-hundred-pound knee brutally pressed.
A 2020 lynching on a spring day in May:
“I can’t breathe!” is all George Floyd could say.
With blood from his nose and pants full of pee,
He died at the hands of brute savagery.
His human face scraped on hot black asphalt
Choking for air, no way to breathe, spit or cough.
“A Man Was Lynched TODAY!”
A mama’s son dying in the worst way.
“Mama!” He whimpered as a child…
Under the knee to neck pressure of a cop gone wild.
Whisper his name in sacred prayer:
George Floyd
Forever.
Charles Chavis
