Shooting in 1916 Grinnell

Unfortunately, shootings are much in the news these days. Grinnell is fortunate to be spared this phenomenon for the most part. Of course, that doesn't mean that there never were any shootings here. I've previously written about a 1914 shooting at the Grinnell Depot, a crime that was never solved. A 1967 incident at the west edge of town bears more similarities to the shootings we hear about these days: a young man shot and killed his girl friend, then turned the gun on himself.

Today's post reports on another Grinnell shooting that happened more than a century ago. Unlike many of today's shootings, the 1916 event was the result of a single shot; no rapid-fire assault weapons were involved. On the other hand, like some modern American crimes, race played a part in the events of 1916: a black man was charged with having shot a white man in a dispute about gambling. After a preliminary hearing, a local judge thought the evidence sufficient to send the accused to jail where he sat for a couple of months before a grand jury convened and surprised everyone, choosing not to issue a bill of indictment against the alleged shooter.

A 1909 Postcard Photograph of the then-new Grinnell Gas Plant
(https://digital.grinnell.edu/islandora/object/grinnell%3A10856)

But I'm getting ahead of myself; let's go back to the beginning and set the scene.

BACKGROUND  

In 1915 the Grinnell City Council decided to award a sizable paving contract to a firm headed by an Iowa City man, William Horrabin (1871-1923). Although a competing bidder had offered a lower total cost for brick paving, Horrabin based his bid on bitulithic paving, a surface that Grinnell had adopted when it began paving city streets in 1909 (Grinnell Register, June 7, 1915). Horrabin's 1915 bid provided for some 83,000 square yards of paving, along with curbing, gutters, etc. (Water & Sewage Works 48[1915]:64). The project was a big one, and involved several blocks of seventeen different streets in town (West Street, Fourth Avenue, Hamilton Avenue, First Avenue, Cemetery Hill, Fifth Avenue, Park Street, High Street, Third Avenue, Eighth Avenue, Seventh Avenue, Sixth Avenue, Ninth Avenue, Elm Street, Main Street, East Street, and State Street [Grinnell Register, June 7, 1915]). 

Photograph of Paving Broad Street (1909)
(https://digital.grinnell.edu/islandora/object/grinnell%3A6520)

A second city project operated alongside road paving: installation of cement sidewalks. A local African American contractor, John Spencer (1867?-1921), had won a sidewalk contract from Grinnell that spring, so that, while Horrigan's gang paved streets, Spencer's work force excavated and poured sidewalks (Grinnell Register, April 6, 1916). Both Horrigan and Spencer hired construction workers on a temporary basis—only for the length of the project—and both men employed African Americans who were part of the temporary expansion of Grinnell's population.

Newspaper Advertisement for John Spencer
(Grinnell Register, April 6, 1916)

These construction works brought to Grinnell a large number of men who had no regular residence or employment in town. To provide for (and perhaps take advantage of) these folk, a man by the name of J. A. ("Alabama") McCall opened a restaurant ("All Nations Restaurant") on Commercial Street. McCall also set up a large tent to provide temporary housing for the paving and sidewalk gangs. Situated adjacent to the new gas plant southeast of the railroad depot, the tent accommodated as many as thirty men, leaving small space between beds and a larger space in the center where in their leisure time workers could entertain themselves, playing poker or shooting craps on the tables occupying this space.

1940s Aerial Photograph of Grinnell with Gas Plant Indicated; Intersection of Broad and Third at Bottom 
(https://digital.grinnell.edu/islandora/object/grinnell%3A27169)

Unsurprisingly, the tent soon attracted not only street-paving and sidewalk construction workers, but also transients and others who, when not at work, fell into playing games of chance. In late June two police officers popped into the tent and there "found a full fledged poker game going on at one table and a crap game at another." As soon as the policemen showed up, the lights went out and most men fled; the officers managed to capture just one man who was taken to the Montezuma jail to await a grand jury (Grinnell Herald, June 27, 1916).

Gambling had been illegal in Iowa since the founding of the state in 1846 ("Legislative Guide to Gambling in Iowa," p. 1), so the men who gathered at McCall's tent to try their hand at craps or poker were definitely violating the law. Moreover, "polite Grinnell" had long opposed gambling. Grinnell's founder, a well-known opponent of alcohol, was also a long-time opponent of gambling. As Earle D. Ross points out, at the 1886 dedication of the Iowa State fair grounds, J. B. Grinnell (1821-1891) articulated a long and colorful list of activities he found objectionable and wanted excluded from the fair. Gambling headed the list:

I would bar the gates forever to gamblers, jockeys, whiskey venders, and oleomargarine frauds, and leave reptilian monsters, with acrobats, pigmies and fat women to the showman, Barnum ("Evolution of the Agricultural Fair in the Northwest," Iowa Journal of History and Politics 24[1926]:473).

The Grinnell College catalog also included gambling in a list of proscribed activities (Catalogue of Iowa College 1883-1884, p. 59). 

THE CRIME 

The law and polite society notwithstanding, gambling in Grinnell persisted. Late one Saturday night in July 1916 as many as twenty men—including at least a half-dozen African Americans—gathered around the craps table in McCall's tent. As the dice were passed around the table, a dispute arose over whether the dice belonging to a Black man were "loaded"—that is, crooked—or not. One of the disputants was Wylie Mack (1892-1963), an African American man from Arkansas who with his family had lived in Grinnell for the previous three years working odd jobs and who was then working on the paving project. After some argument between McCall, Mack, and another Black named Arthur Long, McCall finally told Mack to leave, which he did, but—according to some testimony—only after Mack had complained and threatened to get even with McCall. 

By this time Sunday had arrived, and while Christian Grinnell slept soundly in anticipation of attending church, the betting continued under the tent by the gas works. What happened next was later disputed, but around 1:45 AM someone shot into the tent. The lights went out and the gamblers, thinking that a police raid had begun, scrambled, several of them running right over fellow gamblers in an effort to escape. McCall, who later claimed to have had a wad of money in hand when the lights went out, stumbled out of the tent, the hat he'd been wearing still atop his head. 

Grinnell Train Depot (ca. 1900)
(https://digital.grinnell.edu/islandora/object/grinnell%3A20220)

Swerving as though drunk, McCall staggered downtown, following the railroad tracks. James Greene, an African American from Omaha who had earlier been in the tent with the gamblers, was by then sitting at the railroad depot, enjoying a bottle of locally-produced "Purity Soda."

Newspaper Advertisement for Purity Soda
(Grinnell Herald, May 4, 1917)

Observing McCall stumbling toward him, Greene thought the man drunk, and offered to help. McCall kept complaining that someone had knocked him out and stolen his money. Greene, noticing the blood on McCall's head, suggested that they find a doctor, so that, when they encountered a policeman—or, according to another account, when they reached the police room in the Beyer Building on Fourth Avenue—Greene asked the cop to find a doctor. Dr. E. E. Harris (1867-1938) was summoned. Once they had McCall inside a lighted room, it became evident that McCall had not been struck on the head, but rather had been shot. His hat showed a hole through which a bullet had passed. Harris had McCall taken immediately to the Grinnell hospital, and called two other doctors to meet him there. Dr. Harris later testified that, while operating upon McCall, he and his two colleagues had

found a number of portions of lead—possibly from a bullet or some other instrument...We found a hole on the left side of the head just on a level with the upper border of the left ear. From this hole was oozing a large amount of blood—some brain substance and there were a number of pieces of bone near the wound (Grinnell Register, July 13, 1916).

Police, meanwhile, interviewed whatever witnesses they could find (despite the fact that many men who had been in the tent had fled) and, having heard about the alleged threat from Mack, went straight to Mack's home at 607 Center Street where they found Mack in bed. Officers handcuffed him, and took him downtown to await the county sheriff, who had been called from Montezuma. While much of Grinnell prepared for Sunday morning church, the sheriff took Mack to the Montezuma jail. J. A. McCall, meanwhile, lay on a hospital bed, clinging to life. The end came Monday evening when McCall died, some thirty-six hours after having been shot in the head.

Site of Superior Court in 1916 Grinnell (815 1/2 Fourth Avenue, 2nd Floor) (2022 photo)

On Tuesday the sheriff brought Mack back to Grinnell for a preliminary hearing before Judge P. G. Norris (1878-1955) of Superior Court at 815 1/2 Fourth Avenue. Local attorney and former mayor, J. H. Patton (1856-1935), represented Mack, who was charged with the "willful and deliberate murder of J. A. McCall." The hearing occupied most of Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday morning. According to the informal transcript published in the Grinnell Register, H. G. Lyman (1880-1955), county attorney, called nine witnesses for the prosecution, two of whom were African American. J. H. Patton called eight witnesses (including the accused, himself African American) for the defense.

Undated Photograph of J. H. Patton, Attorney for Wiley Mack
(https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/59752409/john-harper-patton)

The prosecution's case depended primarily upon the testimony of a white man who was said to have been lying on one of the beds inside the tent when the shot was fired. William H. Carter, a Missouri man who, until a few days before, had been cooking for McCall at the All Nations Restaurant up town, claimed to have witnessed the crime.

I was lying there on my bed on my elbow. [Wylie Mack] raised the back end of the tent up to get in. I thought it was the Law when I seen the tent raise up and I kinda raised up to see who it was. He [Mack] walked right over there behind Tom Johnson [an African American] and fired the shot (Grinnell Register, July 13, 1916).

Despite some contradictory testimony, Judge Norris determined that the evidence was sufficient to hold Mack in custody pending the convening of a grand jury.

OUTCOME

As I noted at the beginning of this story, when the grand jury convened in late September, it surprised locals by declining to indict Mack. Because the proceedings are secret, we have no way of knowing exactly what the jurors heard or what questions they may have asked witnesses. We have only the informal transcript of the preliminary hearing, but it does provide some material that helps explain the decision not to indict Mack.

Headline from Article in Grinnell Register, September 25, 1916

The main problem for the prosecution, it seems, was the credibility of its star witness, William Carter whose testimony was overlain with racial bias, was uncorroborated and contradictory. When speaking with police later, for example, Carter twice used the n-word to describe the shooter, claiming that the man was "a n....r with blue eyes." Carter's language seems not to have surprised the court, including Wiley Mack's lawyer, who used the same word several times in asking Carter to confirm his testimony. However, if it was a blue-eyed African American who shot J. A. McCall, it could not have been Wiley Mack whose eyes were brown, as Mack himself said (and as other witnesses confirmed).  Mack's 1917 registration for the World War I draft describes his eye color as "brown."

Wiley Mack's 1917 Registration for the Draft
(Ancestry.com)

Carter also claimed that, while leaving the tent, Mack had said, "I'll get out, but I'll come back and get you" (Grinnell Herald, July 11, 1916). This language certainly gave officers reason to think that Mack had a motive for shooting McCall, and no doubt explains why police went straight to Mack's home to arrest him. At trial, however, Mack denied ever having made any threat against McCall. Moreover, the spoken threat that Carter claimed to have heard Mack make found no corroboration in other testimony, even though some twenty men were gathered around the craps table and were therefore close to the dispute. 

Worse for the prosecution was the fact that their witness had contradicted himself with earlier reports that he gave lawmen. Rollie Brewer, another white man who was employed at the Gem Restaurant on Park Street and who was present when officers arrived to investigate the shooting, testified that he 

heard Carter talking to Mr. Gray [the city marshal] and he said he was asleep when the shot was fired...Mr. Gray asked him did he see who it was and he said, 'No, it was dark and he couldn't tell who it was...he was asleep when he heard the shot and he couldn't tell who it was. This conversation was about four o'clock Sunday morning... (Grinnell Register, July 13, 1916).

Of course, Brewer's account was little more than hearsay, but Gray himself, when questioned by Patton, proved unable to contradict Brewer.

I don't know whether I heard Carter tell conflicting stories or not. We have had so many stories from different men that I can't keep them all straight. I hadn't had much sleep and was all tired out. I got so much dope on that it it [sic] pretty darn hard to remember it all (ibid.)

Because of these contradictions (or other problems we cannot know), the grand jury declined to indict Wiley Mack (Grinnell Herald, September 22, 1916; Grinnell Register, September 25, 1916), who soon left Grinnell, returning to Arkansas where he had been born. 

A final, unexpected twist to the story came with the attempt to send J. A. McCall's body to his home for burial. When no relatives responded to telegrams soliciting help, authorities shipped the body to Nashville, Tennessee. Newspaper reports explained that McCall would be buried in Chapel Hill, Tennessee, presumably at the suggestion of the dead man's wife, who had been hospitalized for some weeks prior to the shooting, but was by then living with Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Corrick at 222 West Street in Grinnell (Grinnell Register, July 13, 1916).

Grinnell Herald, July 25, 1916

Then came word from a Tennessee Justice of the Peace that the man known in Grinnell as J. A. McCall was in fact Tip Loftin and would be buried in Allisona, Tennessee where he had grown up (Grinnell Herald, July 25, 1916). So far as I know, Grinnell learned no more about this case of mistaken identity, nor was anyone else ever charged with the murder of J. A. McCall/Tip Loftin.

AFTERWORD

Grinnell a century ago was far from free of racial bias. Inasmuch as the gambling crowd at McCall's tent was multi-racial, it stands out as an exception in a town that did not provide many occasions for interracial mixing. Under McCall's tent both black and white men gathered around the craps table, exchanging bets and excitement. Of course the paving and sidewalk gangs were multi-racial, so the men present at the shooting were accustomed to working with one another, irrespective of race. 

Alice Renfrow (2nd row, left) With Classmates at South School, 1912
(https://digital.grinnell.edu/islandora/object/grinnell%3A6360)

But most of Grinnell could not make the same claim. No Blacks worked at the Glove factory, at the Washing Machine Factory, or at Spaulding's. No blacks clerked at the stores in Grinnell's downtown, and blacks were unwelcome at the town's fraternal societies, women's clubs, and organizations like Fortnightly, all of which helped weave together Grinnell society. Except for churches like the Congregational, where the Renfrow family worshipped, or the Methodist, where the Lucas family worshipped, or the public school classrooms which Grinnell's few African American children attended, socialization in Grinnell observed rather rigid racial lines. In this way, the events of July 1916 offer a surprising difference to main-line Grinnell: both black and white men occupied in the dirty work of paving city streets and sidewalks gathered around the same craps table to entertain themselves.

Photograph of a March 1910 Dinner at Odd Fellows Hall of All-White Tuesday Club
(https://digital.grinnell.edu/islandora/object/grinnell%3A6067)

However, the published, informal transcript of the preliminary hearing makes plain that the hearing's participants, like the rest of Grinnell, were acutely aware of race. Addressing the narrative to the town's overwhelmingly white readership, the Grinnell Register did not neglect to specify the racial identity of witnesses, beginning with the very first witness called by County Attorney Lyman on behalf of the state: "Dave Campbell, a young white man...Roy Adams, white, was the next witness...Tom Johnson, colored, was the next witness..." (July 13, 1916). Witnesses and court officers alike freely indulged in the language of racism.

And yet, not only did several white witnesses contradict the racially-tinged testimony of Carter and the casual racist language of the court's officers, the grand jury refused to indict Wiley Mack. Although Mack had been arrested and tried by white men on the testimony of a white man who seems to have seen African Americans through the prism of racism, the grand jury—almost certainly all white—declined to indict. In this instance, at least, racism in 1916 Grinnell did not overcome the evidence brought to court.