Henry Marrow
Age 23
A Black father of two known as "Dickie" to his friends
Oxford, North Carolina
May 11, 1970
Henry Marrow, a Black man known as “Dickie,” grew up in Oxford, North Carolina. At 19, Marrow joined the Army and was stationed at Fort Bragg but often came home to Oxford to visit. When he was discharged in 1968, he moved home, married Willie Mae Sidney, and soon they had two children. The story of Marrow’s life and his killing are detailed in Timothy Tyson’s book Blood Done Sign My Name and was reported in several news outlets at the time of his death.
On the evening of May 11, 1970, Marrow was walking to a local shop to buy a soda when, according to multiple local newspaper reports, Marrow spoke to a white woman, Judy Teel, with her husband standing next to her. Marrow argued at the time that he was speaking to Black women standing nearby. The woman’s husband, Larry Teel, reportedly yelled, “That’s my wife you’re talking to,” at which point two other men, Larry’s father, Robert Teel, and Larry’s half-brother, Roger Oakley, went into a nearby shop and retrieved weapons.
Larry Teel swung at Marrow with a piece of wood and missed, at which point Marrow reportedly produced a knife. Robert Teel and Oakley reemerged from a shop carrying guns. Marrow ran, and according to the account in Blood Done Sign My Name, all three of the white men gave chase, with Robert Teel and Oakley both firing two shots at Marrow, knocking him down.
The three men began to beat Marrow. One of the witnesses, a childhood friend of Marrow’s, said in Tyson’s book: “They took the butt of the shotgun and started beating him in the face. I guess they did that for about five minutes.” One of the men shot Marrow a final time. Witnesses carried a still-conscious Marrow to a local hospital, where he died later that night.
Initial Investigation
Robert and Larry Teel were both charged with first-degree murder in the killing of Henry Marrow. Oakley, who was not charged, testified during the trial that he participated in beating Marrow and was the one who fired the fatal shot, although he said he had done so accidentally, according to the Raleigh News & Observer. An all-white jury found both Robert and Larry Teel not guilty.
Marrow’s death sparked weeks of protest in the county and outbreaks of violence. Bomb threats were called into both predominantly Black and white schools, and street fights were an almost nightly occurrence. Oxford’s mayor instated a six-day curfew in an attempt to quell the violence. Following the not-guilty verdict, additional protests ensued.
Till Act Status
Marrow’s name appears on a list of cases being reviewed by the FBI. According to a report to Congress by the U.S. attorney general in 2019, the review is part of the Emmett Till Unsolved Civil Rights Crimes Act, and the case remains open.
Case Status open
Themes
- Men
- Open Cases
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)