Alabama police beat a black woman to death in 1945: her grandchildren finally know the truth

The Jim Crow era in America is littered with stories – some told and many unspoken – about violations of civil rights and the basic humanity of black people.

One such story is that of Hattie DeBardelaben, who was killed by law enforcement officers in Autaugaville on March 23, 1945. Details of Hattie’s death remained a mystery to her grandchildren for nearly 80 years.

Mary DeBardelaben always wondered what happened to her grandmother and why her family never talked about Hattie’s death.

Those answers finally came on October 26, after Mary received federal documents related to her grandmother’s death and the alleged cover-up that followed.

Mary and her brother Dan told AL.com how the documents finally gave them closure around Hattie’s death. Mary said that while she was happy to finally know the truth, it was extremely painful to read about what happened to her grandmother.

“I cried for a few days because I couldn’t believe what had happened to my grandmother,” Mary said.

While the documents revealed the truth about Hattie’s death, they also discovered why Mary and Dan’s relatives never talked about their grandmother’s death.

Mary and Dan said their father, Hattie’s son Bennie, never talked about her death, even when they would visit her grave.

Several of Hattie’s children and relatives witnessed her beating and eventual death at the hands of officers.

“The case was so big, and we never knew how big it was because her seven children, who were still alive, never said a word about what happened to my grandmother, or to any of their children,” Mary said.

“And all her children had children, and I checked with them all and they all said their parents never talked about what happened to their mother.

“But it was my mother who kept telling us a story. All she could tell us was that my grandmother had been murdered by police officers who came to see if they were selling liquor.’

‘A person whose breath was cut off’

According to testimony from Edward Underwood, Hattie’s youngest son and witness to her death, four officers came to their home on the afternoon of March 23, 1945.

The officers were Clyde White, John Barrenbrugge, JC Moseley and LO Smith. White was an Autauga County deputy and the other three were alcohol enforcement officers.

The men claimed they were looking for illegal whiskey in Autauga County and Hattie agreed to have her home searched after they denied having whiskey.

As officers tried to search the house, one of them punched Hattie’s cousin after they said he ignored an order to sit down.

Hattie intervened and told the officer to stop. The officer began assaulting her, causing her to fall against a pot of boiling water she was using to wash clothes.

Another officer punched Hattie several times before putting her in a chair. According to Edward’s statement, he called his two older brothers, Bennie and Johnni, who were working in the fields.

Officers with guns drawn ordered the two boys to sit on the ground.

White proceeded to check the house for whiskey. Edward said that during this time his mother sat still and “gasped and grunted like a person whose breath has been cut off.”

After the search ended, officers said they were taking Hattie to jail and Edward, who was 15 at the time, would accompany her. Her 7-year-old grandson got her shoes.

While in the car, Hattie started vomiting. Police ignored her pleas to stop and get water. Edward started using her dress to catch the vomit before they finally stopped.

After she stopped, Hattie continued to throw up. An officer told her to sit back in the seat. Hattie protested, saying she was sick, but Edward pulled her back into the chair.

Hattie fainted and muttered, “That’s my baby,” referring to Edward.

Those were the last words she would speak.

By the time they arrived at the Prattville County Jail, Hattie had died with her “baby” sitting next to her.

Hattie was 46 when she died.

‘He never said a word’

After reading this, Mary and Dan said they understood why their grandmother’s death was never discussed by her children.

Hattie’s story is like many stories from the Jim Crow period: never officially or accurately recorded and never spoken out loud due to trauma and fear.

“My father and his brothers and cousins, you know, had to witness what actually happened,” Dan said.

“I’m sure it was so traumatic for my father to see that, and it was one of the reasons he never said a single word, nor did he and his other six sisters and brothers ever have a conversation with told us what was needed. place.

“It was a combination of fear and just the trauma of being traumatized by an event like that.”

Mary said fear and the threat of retaliation caused their father to change his name and move to Birmingham a month after Hattie’s death.

Mary and Dan said one of the most shocking things about the documents was that Edward sat in the car and had to watch his mother die while the officers showed indifference to her condition.

An investigation leads nowhere

A statement from the funeral director revealed that Hattie’s head fell back each time her body was picked up, indicating that her neck was broken in the attack.

Despite the examination, the white doctor said the cause of death was a heart attack.

After her death, Hattie’s husband filed an affidavit with the NAACP, and the organization began contacting the Department of Justice. Assistant U.S. Attorney General Tom Clark sent a letter asking FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover to investigate.

The NAACP also contacted then-Alabama Governor Chauncey Sparks, who provided information about the case to the state’s attorney.

A grand jury heard the case in October 1945, but declined to bring charges and none of the officers were ever arrested.

White later became the sheriff of Autauga County.

Mary said the documents clearly reveal a cover-up that protected the officers.

“It’s disturbing that people could be so cruel back then,” Mary said.

“Not only the people who killed her, but also those who were in official legal positions, could clearly see that she was killed by these officers, but they preferred to cover it up rather than prosecute their own people .”

Mary and Dan said they hoped their grandmother’s name would be cleared of any criminal record. Mary also hopes that those involved in Hattie’s death can be charged posthumously.

‘You couldn’t help saving your mother’

The reason why Mary and Dan were finally able to obtain this information is due to the Civil Rights Cold Case Records Collection Act of 2018.

The law was a bipartisan piece of legislation signed into law by President Donald Trump in 2019.

The bill established a review board, independent of the FBI, made up of private citizens. The board was not staffed until 2022, after President Joe Biden submitted nominations approved by the U.S. Senate.

The review board is tasked with accelerating the review and release of civil rights cold case data under government control from 1940 to 1979.

Working with the National Archives and Archives administration, the review board contacted Mary before the documents were made public to confirm whether she would like to receive them.

Review board member Gabrielle Dudley said Hattie’s case was different from others at the time because she was not involved in any civil rights activity, yet was still a victim of violence at the hands of law enforcement.

“She was just living her daily life, and unfortunately she was confronted with this violence and a violent death that was very typical of interactions with law enforcement during this time in the Jim Crow South,” Dudley said.

Dudley said stories like Hattie’s are also unusual or not widely known because most stories from that era often focus on men and public figures.

Mary and Dan said they are grateful for the work the review board and NARA did to release Hattie’s records. They were also grateful to the NAACP and those who advocated for officials to investigate her death.

The siblings also want other families who may have similar cold cases to never give up hope and continue to believe that they will get information about their loved one’s stories.

While the siblings are happy to finally know what happened to their grandmother, they still reflect on the eerie silence of their relatives.

“They never said a word,” Dan said.

“To me it reflects how traumatic it was, you know, to be able to sit there and know that you couldn’t help save your mother, the only option was to get shot or killed yourself.”