William Piercefield

Age 42

A Black husband and father in Louisiana

Concordia Parish, Louisiana

July 24, 1965

William Piercefield, 42, lived with his wife and children near the riverside town of Ferriday, Louisiana. On the evening of July 24, 1965, Piercefield, who was Black, reportedly became involved in an argument with his in-laws, leading his family to call for help. According to a Concordia Sentinel article published in 1965, by the time officers arrived at Piercefield’s house, he had barricaded himself inside with his 11-year-old son.

Police launched multiple canisters of tear gas into the house, the newspaper reported, and Piercefield fired a gun. His son was shot in the hand during the commotion, allegedly by Piercefield. Piercefield’s brother, who approached the house to reason with William, was injured by a bullet that grazed his head. The standoff lasted about three hours before police kicked down the door and shot Piercefield to death.

Initial Investigation

Piercefield’s son and brother survived their injuries. In a later interview with the FBI, Piercefield’s daughter said she was also in the house at the time of the shooting and that her father was not responsible for the injuries. She said her brother and uncle had been shot by police from outside the house, according to a Department of Justice memo about the case. She specified that her brother had been standing near a side door, trying to breathe fresh air, when he was hit.

Piercefield’s daughter also identified two officers, Concordia Parish Sheriff’s Office Deputy Frank DeLaughter and a Ferriday policeman whose name is redacted from the DOJ memo. It is unclear whether either officer, or the shooting itself, was investigated in 1965.

Till Act Status

The FBI opened a review of the case in 2008 and interviewed Piercefield’s daughter. In addition to her statement about the injuries and the two officers, she told the FBI she had heard someone yelling for her father from outside the house, using a racial epithet, and saying that he would die. According to the DOJ memo about the case, she said her father recognized the voices of “Big Frank,” meaning Frank DeLaughter, and another officer.

The FBI also interviewed the Concordia Parish clerk of court, who said he was not familiar with Piercefield’s case and that many of the court’s records had been destroyed at the direction of former Concordia Parish Sheriff Noah Cross. The FBI wasn’t able to locate records from the Louisiana State Police, the Concordia Parish Sheriff’s Office or the Ferriday Police Department. The bureau determined that DeLaughter died in 1996.

According to the memo, the DOJ said it could not prosecute DeLaughter because he was dead, and it did not have enough evidence to prove the other officer named in the case had shot Piercefield. Moreover, the memo said, the statute of limitations had run out. The department closed the case in 2013.

While he was never prosecuted in Piercefield’s death, DeLaughter had known ties to the Ku Klux Klan and was implicated in at least two other civil rights cases that have been investigated by the FBI. He was convicted of police brutality in 1970 and sentenced to a year in prison.

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)