Eddie James Stewart

Age 22

A young Black cabinet maker and husband

Crystal Springs, Mississippi

July 9, 1966

Twenty-two-year-old cabinet maker Eddie James Stewart, a Black man, was shot by a sheriff’s deputy at his home in Crystal Springs, Mississippi.

On July 9, 1966, a bar owner phoned the Hinds County Sheriff’s Department and reported that Stewart had caused a disturbance, according to a Department of Justice memo on the case that relied heavily on documents from the sheriff’s office and from a later lawsuit. A deputy responded to the call and tried to arrest Stewart at the bar, but Stewart drove away. The deputy gave chase, and eventually Stewart crashed his car then fled on foot. He managed to get home but later returned to the crash site. The deputy recognized Stewart and again attempted to arrest him, the memo states, but Stewart fled once more.

Another officer later followed Stewart to his home, and the two got into a shootout. As more police arrived, Stewart appeared to surrender, and the officers took him inside the house, asking where Stewart kept his guns. The officers said a scuffle ensued and that Stewart grabbed the barrel of a gun held by a sheriff’s deputy, John Grant, who shot Stewart twice. Stewart fell to the floor and died.

Initial Investigation

On the same day as the shooting, a coroner’s inquest concluded the incident was a “justifiable homicide” because Stewart had resisted arrest after firing at officers. The Justice Department memo mentions no other substantive investigation by local, state or federal officials.

The month after Stewart’s death, his widow, Bertha, filed a $20 million lawsuit, in which she alleged her husband had been beaten on the head and then shot, without justification, while in custody of the officers. The suit was dismissed on January 31, 1967.

Till Act Status

The Federal Bureau of Investigation opened a review of the case in 2008 as part of the DOJ’s Cold Case Initiative. During its review, the FBI obtained reports from the initial investigation, contacted law enforcement officials, searched databases and archives, and reviewed documents related to Bertha Stewart’s federal civil suit.

The FBI also interviewed John Grant, of the sheriff’s office, by phone in 2009. Grant confirmed most of the details from the law enforcement reports, although he did not mention shooting Stewart a second time.

The DOJ closed the case in 2011, failing to find evidence contradicting the official narrative — that Grant had shot Stewart after Stewart tried to grab Grant’s gun. By then, the statute of limitations on any civil rights violations had run out.

Un(re)solved

Begin the full experience

About the Project

This multiplatform investigation draws upon more than two years of reporting, thousands of documents and dozens of first-hand interviews. FRONTLINE spoke to family and friends of the victims, and witnesses, some of whom had never been interviewed; current and former Justice Department officials and FBI agents, state and local law enforcement; lawmakers, civil-rights leaders and investigative journalists, to explore the Department of Justice’s reopening of civil rights-era cold cases under the 2008 Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crime Act.

In addition to an examination of the federal effort, the project features the first comprehensive, interactive list of all those whose cases were reopened by the Department of Justice. Today, the list stands at 151 names. Among the victims: voting rights advocates, veterans, Louisville’s first female prosecutor, business owners, mothers, fathers, and children.

The project consists of a web-based interactive experience, serialized podcast, a touring augmented-reality exhibit, documentary and companion education curriculum for high schools and universities.

A project like Un(re)solved would not be possible without the historic and contemporary contributions of universities, civil rights groups, and the press, particularly the Black press, who have ensured the ongoing public record of racist violence in the United States. To pay homage to these groups, the web interactive begins with a quote from journalist, activist and researcher Ida B. Wells, one of the first to document with precision the horrors of racial terror in America. “The way to right wrongs,” she wrote, “is to turn the light of truth upon them.”

At the outset of the project, FRONTLINE forged a relationship with Northeastern University’s Civil Rights and Restorative Justice Project (CRRJ), bringing them on as an academic partner. Launched in 2007 by Distinguished Law Professor Margaret Burnham, CRRJ is a mission-driven program of interdisciplinary teaching, research and policy analysis on race, history, and criminal justice. Their work has expanded beyond the names on the Justice Department’s list, archiving documents in over 1,000 cases of racially motivated homicides.

With support from the CRRJ, FRONTLINE reporters gathered what could be known about the individuals on the list, conducting interviews with family, friends and witnesses, delving into newspaper archives and gathering documentation including headstone applications, draft cards and archival photographs.

At the heart of the project has been a drive to center the voices of the families of those on the list. FRONTLINE partnered with StoryCorps to record nearly two dozen oral histories with victims’ next of kin, which are featured both in the web-based interactive and traveling AR exhibit. These oral histories will also be archived in the National Library of Congress.

To lead the creative vision for the web experience and installation, FRONTLINE partnered with Ado Ato Pictures, a premier mixed reality studio founded by artist, filmmaker, and technologist Tamara Shogaolu.

Shogaolu rooted the visuals in the powerful symbolism of trees. In the United States, trees evoke the ideal of liberty, but also speak to an oppressive history of racially motivated violence. In Persian myth, trees are humanity’s ancestors, while in Toraja, Indonesia, they serve as sacred burial sites.

“I was really inspired by looking at the role of the tree as a symbol in American history” Shogaolu said. “It’s been looked at as a symbol of freedom, we look at it as a connector between generations, and also there’s the association of trees with racial terror.” When designing the creative vision for Un(re)solved Shogaolu wondered whether she might be able to reclaim the symbol of the tree. “As a person of color, we’re often terrified of being in isolated places in the woods. And I thought it was kind of crazy that there are natural environments that instinctually give great fear because of this connection with racial terror and I wanted to reclaim that — to turn these into beautiful spaces.”

Un(re)solved weaves imagery of trees, which also recall family ties, into patterns and textures from the American tradition of quilting. Among enslaved African Americans forbidden to read or write, quilts provided an important space to document family stories. Today, quilting remains a creative outlet rich with story and tradition for many American communities.

We invite you to enter this forest of quilted memories — a testimony to the lives of these individuals, and the multi-generational impact of their untimely, unjust loss.

(Credits to come)