I Am a Fugitive from a Georgia Chain Gang!

XXII. Driven to Desperation

C H A P T E R X X I I Driven to Desperation HE DAYof my second hearing had arrived and I had pondered all of the angles of my case. The known facts were these: The sworn testimony of over a hundred responsible persons who knew me personally, testifying to my good character and reformation—this testimony augmented by the powerful and political individuals mentioned heretofore, who had written to the officials requesting my release. On the other hand, were the sworn affidavits of my wife, painting me as a criminal, but uncorroborated; the hazy, infinite intrigue from Chicago; the determined opposition of Boykin; the chagrin of the Prison Commissioners at not receiving the gratuities they expected; and the hosts of sectional traditions, prejudices, and precedents. Which would win? Regardless of the outcome, I had reached a definite and determined resolution. If I was not paroled, I would attempt to escape again, even though this attempt would result in death. For, to me, if I had to choose between calmly remaining in a Georgia chain gang for six, seven, or ten years, I would prefer the gamble with death. And if I lost, I would still be content, for perhaps death would free 198 T Driven to Desperation 199 me from a future that if known would be worse than death. I want the world to get this straight right here. While Georgia may saythat I escaped from justice, I emphatically state that I am convinced that I escaped from injustice, intolerance and the vengeanceof a society that is a hundred years behind the times. Let the reader decide which is correct. The day of the hearing had come and passed. It is customary for the Prison Commission to hear clemency cases on the first Monday of each month and to render their decisions to the Governor and the public about the twentieth or twenty-fifth of the same month. On the third Sunday in July, my mother visited me at£he camp. In a few days the commission would announce their decision. In the interval between the date of the hearing, July 9, and the third Sunday in July, my mother and brother had been extremely active among local political forces in trying to exert political pressure on the commission to decide in my favor. On this day when she visited me my mother was telling me the results of her efforts. She was positive that there was no doubt of the outcome. I disagreed with her. She said: "Elliott, do you mean to tell me that with all the facts, and the people working for you, that you still believe they won't let you go?" "Yes," I replied. Upon hearing this, she became greatly agitated and said: "Elliott, what will you do if they turn you down? I think they are trying to kill you and me, for if you have to stay 200 I Am A Fugitive here six or seven years more, it will kill me—of that I am sure." "Mother," I said, "all isnot lost. Courage and knowledge are all that are required to overcome any obstacle of life. I have a fair quantity of both and if I am turned down, I shall use both of these qualities to the utmost. I will escape again. I am preparing to put a plan of escape into action." "But Elliott, you can't escape. You'll never get away with it. They will kill you surely; besides, there has been so much publicity about you. Every newspaper in the country has your picture, and you'll surely get caught." "Mother," I said, "would you not rather see me dead, peacefully slumbering in some quiet, shady grave, knowing that my troubles were forever solved, than to know that I was going through the daily mental and physical torture of this damned chain gang and its visible horrors of injustice and intolerance? Regardlessof what you and Vincent may think, I am going to try to escape if I am turned down." The Prison Commission had rendered their verdict of the Cases they had heard during the month of July, but had made no mention of mine. My petition for clemency had been tabled. My mother, through inquiries, had not arrived at any definite conclusion as to when they would pass on my case. I said to her: "Mother, you know and have...