1906 lynchings grew from tensions, racism — Thriving black community died

The story of the 1906 lynchings begins years before Horace Duncan, Fred Coker and Will Allen died on Springfield's public square.

Its roots — like those of hundreds of lynchings in the United States — laid in economic tensions, a culture of white supremacy and xenophobia, and plain old Jim Crow racism.

In addition, a series of area murders as well as the rise of black political and economic power in Springfield had set the stage for the lynchings that would forever change the city.

Springfield, of course, was a different place in 1906. Its estimated 25,000 residents lived in a growing city roughly bordered by present-day Grand and Kearney streets, Kansas Expressway and National Avenue.

The Queen City of the Ozarks served then, as now, as a regional center for business and commerce. Area residents came to what's now downtown to bank, trade, worship, catch up on the news, and see and be seen.

They shopped in black-owned businesses. They met black city leaders and professionals.

Schools, churches, theaters and social groups remained segregated, but black citizens held seats on the city council and the school board, positions with the sheriff's department, post office and, at times, police force.

The city boasted black doctors, lawyers, ministers, teachers and tradesmen, a dentist and a pharmacist and several business owners. Hardrick Bros., the largest grocery store in town, was one of many black-owned businesses.

One of the few "horseless buggies" in town was built and owned by Walter Majors, a black bicycle mechanic and violin repairman. Majors was one of Springfield's estimated 2,300 black citizens — about 10 percent of the population. In the aftermath of the lynchings, that percentage was halved, and continue to decline for many years.

OZARKS LYNCH MOBS

Grizzly as it now sounds, Ozarkers were certainly accustomed to death by public hanging a century ago. It was the most common form of legal execution.

Mob hangings, too, were not uncommon in the Ozarks in the late 1800s, when sheriff's departments could be a full day's ride from rural backwoods of some counties. Vigilante justice was sometimes the preferred method of dealing with accused thieves, rapists and murderers — black and white.

Data compiled by the NAACP shows 81 lynchings — including some that did not end in death — between 1889 and 1916 in Missouri. At the beginning of that period, whites were more likely to be lynched. After 1897, black victims predominated the list.

Editorials in both the Springfield Republican and the Springfield Leader encouraged "good negroes" to take notice of lynchings, lest they befall the same fate.

RACIAL TENSIONS

High-profile events closer to home also made headlines.

In August 1901, a white woman was found with her throat slashed in Pierce City. Two black man were arrested and one, William Godley, was lynched.

The mob then began shooting and torching houses in Pierce City's black neighborhood, home to about 300. Two men were killed. Within a day, the entire black population had fled, never to return.

Less than two years later in Joplin, a mob lynched a black man accused of fatally shooting a white police officer. Again, many blacks left town.

Springfield was regarded as a tolerant city for blacks, and many sought refuge here from less hospitable towns.

But that sentiment began to break down in 1904, when Nina Brake, wife of Springfield police officer Jesse Brake (both were white) gave birth to a mixed-race son.

After the birth, a black man named John McCracken (likely the father) was arrested after visiting the Brake home. Later that night, several hundred white men, led by Officer Brake, swarmed the county jail. But the sheriff, anticipating violence, had already moved McCracken to the Christian County jail.

Months later, McCracken was sentenced to 30 years for burglary and attempted assault.

In December 1905, two black men were arrested for the murder of a white Springfield tailor.

January 1906 brought the shooting death of a white Confederate Civil War veteran. Two more black men were jailed.

Just one week before the lynching, incumbent police chief J.R. McNutt, a Democrat, narrowly lost an election to a Republican candidate.

At the time, most of Springfield's black voters were registered Republicans. Newspapers speculated that the city's all-white police department would soon employ blacks — like Greene County Sheriff Everett Horner, a Republican, already did.

INNOCENTS ACCUSED

One or all of these events may have been on the minds of Springfieldians the day Mina Edwards took a buggy ride with Charles Cooper.

Edwards, a 20-year-old white woman, had recently left her husband. She had been in and out of Springfield for about a month, seeking work.

On April 13, 1906 — Good Friday — Edwards met up with Cooper, 22, whom she described as an "old friend." What happened after that is unknown.

A story in the next morning's paper said Cooper told Springfield Police he and Edwards were attacked at Phelps Street and Main Avenue, by two black men in masks.

The attackers, he said, had knocked him unconscious and robbed him, dragged Edwards to a nearby pasture and raped her.

Saturday morning, police arrested Horace Duncan, a black man Cooper said he recognized — despite the masks he had said his attackers wore — and Fred Coker, simply because the two had been together Friday night.

Twenty years old, Duncan had never been in trouble with the law. He lived with his parents and worked with his lifelong friend, Fred Coker, at the Pickwick Livery and Transfer Co. Coker, 21, lived with his grandfather, King Coker, a respected leader in the black community.

Duncan and Coker were taken to the city jail as suspects in the attack. They were set free after their white employer came and said they'd been at work at the time of the attack, loading stage sets several blocks away at the Baldwin Theater.

After Duncan and Coker were released, Cooper filed a robbery complaint, claiming Duncan had stolen his watch.

Duncan and Coker were re-arrested Saturday evening on robbery charges. They were taken to the county jail, which stood behind the sheriff's residence on North Robberson, near the current site of the Greene County Commission building.

Rumors of a lynch mob persisted throughout the day. Sheriff Horner dispatched his deputies around town to check the peace.

Despite assurances that all was quiet, a large group of men and boys gathered at the city jail by nightfall, looking for Duncan and Coker. Convinced the two were not inside, the rowdy crowd headed back to the square and up Boonville.

Sheriff Horner met the crowd at the door threatening to fire into it if the men did not disperse. The mob of hundred responded with jeers and fired their own guns into the air, storming the jail's doors and window with tools.

After some time, the mob broke through the jail door and into the cells, beating and binding Duncan and Coker, who were dragged down Boonville to the square by a mob of now 2,000.

Sheriff Horner later testified that no city police — save one who happened to be walking near the jail — responded to telephoned pleas for back-up.

In 1906, Gottfried Tower, a metal structure several stories high, stood at the center of the square, with a wooden bandstand 12 feet up.

Duncan and Coker were taken to the foot of this tower, where the crowd had grown to an estimate 3,000. Ropes were placed around their necks. One by one, the men were hoisted into the air.

Boxes and kindling were then piled beneath the tower. The hanging bodies were doused in coal oil, and all was lit afire. Flames soon burned through the ropes, and the bodies fell into the fire below.

The mob, "Overcome with their orgy and filled with exultant frenzy over their success," said the Springfield Republican, returned to the county jail, where they found most other prisoners had escaped, including one suspected of the Confederate veteran's murder. Another suspect, Will Allen, remained locked in his cell. He was soon broken out and marched to the square.

On the bandstand, Allen was given a mock trial as Duncan and Coker's remains smoldered below. He proclaimed his innocence. The crowd shouted "Hang him." A rope was produced, and Allen, too, was doused in coal oil.

Some accounts claim Allen jumped from the bandstand. Others claim he was pushed. All agree his neck broke before the rope snapped and he fell into the embers. Allen's body was rehung on the tower, then burned with the others.

Mayor-elect James Blain mounted the tower and said, "Men, you have done enough. You have had your revenge. You would better go home." The crowd dispersed, taking bits of rope, clothing and bone as souvenirs.

Easter morning brought thousands of onlookers to the square. White men, women and children, dressed in Easter finery, flocked to the charred bandstand, where lively talk continued all day.

Black folks, however, were scarce on public streets, although some quietly went to church. Newspapers reported the train station was crowded with blacks, ready to leave town, while others left by wagon or on foot. Personal accounts tell of others seeking protection on the outskirts of town, or in the homes of compassionate white residents.

MARSHAL LAW

As rumors of further violence arose, the mayor sent out a call for volunteer policemen. He had 150 men deputized.

Sheriff Horner telephoned the governor, who dispatched five companies of the Missouri National Guard to restore the peace in Springfield.

The first troops, including a 22-man company from Pierce City, arrived by train late Sunday night. The 66 soldiers were met by the police chief and a crowd of hecklers, who followed the troops as they marched to the square. At one point, the soldiers were ordered to fix bayonets on their Krag-Jorgensen rifles.

Sheriff Horner met the troops on the square and declared, from Gottfried Tower, that the city was under martial law — the first time since the Civil War. The troops remained in Springfield for a week, camping on the square and in a field adjacent to the county jail.

The lynching was recounted in newspapers across the country, though it fell off the front pages later that week, when San Francisco was destroyed by earthquake and fire.

CALL FOR JUSTICE

A judge called a grand jury and summoned dozens of witnesses and suspected leaders of the mob. Edwards and Cooper could not be found for questioning.

The grand jury reported that Duncan and Coker were not guilty of assault.

It declared Sheriff Horner had done all in his power to stop the violence. The police department, on the other hand, "seemed to have no appreciation of their duties and responsibilities as officers of the law," the grand jury report read.

In all, 18 men identified as leaders of the mob were indicted for the lynching, with charges ranging from murder in the first degree to perjury. Included was former policeman Jesse Brake. Several others had connections to the police department and the Democratic party.

It took several weeks to seat a jury for the first trial, in which blacksmith "Doss" Galbraith, was tried for murder. The jury selected included some of Galbraith's friends.

The trial was held in August, in a courthouse overlooking the square. Despite grand jury testimony, white witnesses could not place Galbraith at the lynching, while black witnesses claimed to have seen him carrying a human skull, with some flesh attached, Easter morning.

After 24 hours of deliberation, the jury was still was hung, voting 10 to 2 for acquittal.

Charges against the other suspects were eventually dropped.