HONORING
HERMAN: Tribute made to by US Congressmen Conyers,
Richmond, and Scott II Mural and Banner
in North Carolina
II Mumia Abu-Jamal's
Message for Herman's Memorial
We Speak Your
Name
(A3 Coalition Newsletter, Oct. 13, 2013)
Yesterday, Herman Wallace was laid to
rest after a memorial service befitting his liberation roots. New Orleans
supporters, friends and family came together to create a magnificent send off
for Herman, just the way he wanted it.
As a proud black man who struggled
for justice for himself, his comrades, his people and all people, Herman wanted
the remembrance to be in a community space and to provide a forum for many of
his supporters to speak and most importantly to bring people together. As
you'll see from the photos below, it was a memorable occasion. You can also
read the statement that Albert Woodfox wrote for Herman, featured below.
Join Amnesty for the second line
parade in honor of Herman in New Orleans on Saturday, October 19, at 2:00 pm,
starting at St. Augustine Catholic Church, 1210 Governor Nicholls Street, and
concluding at the Louisiana Supreme Court, 400 Royal Street.
Rest in peace and in power Herman
Wallace - the struggle continues.
Herman Wallace...
We Speak Your Name & Those of the Ancestors
Essay by Mariame Kaba
Photos by Ann Harkness
(click on photos to view full size
/ higher resolution)
Herman Wallace would have turned 72
years old today. Instead on October 4th, he died in his sleep, his body ravaged by liver cancer. Wallace
had just been released from a Louisiana prison three days earlier after having
spent over 40 years in solitary confinement in a 6 by 9 cell.
Among his final words, he is reported to have said: “I am free. I am free.” It’s a minor
miracle that he was able to die surrounded by friends instead of in a prison
hospital. A judge overturned his 1974 conviction for the murder of a guard at
Angola prison and ordered his immediate release. Only a couple
of days later, while he lay dying in his hospital bed, the state of Louisiana
filed charges to re-indict him. There was actually a question as
to whether he might be re-arrested. Louisiana was determined that Wallace
should die in prison by any means necessary.
Yesterday, Wallace was buried and
I’ve been thinking again about the fact that some of his final words before
dying were about being “free.” Is death the only way for black people to be
“free?” As Wallace’s family continues to raise money to cover the expenses
incurred by his funeral, one has to wonder if even death can liberate blackness
from captivity.
This brings me to the story of Prince
Mortimer who I have been thinking a lot about since hearing of Herman Wallace’s
death. Mortimer died in 1834 in Wethersfield State Prison. He was 111 years
old. Prince Mortimer arrived in America when he was 6 years old from Guinea in
West Africa. He was enslaved in Middleton Connecticut and imprisoned at 87
years old for attempting to poison one of his masters, a man by the name of
George Starr.
If not for a brief mention of him in
an 1844 book by Richard Phelps titled Newgate of Connecticut : its
origin and early history, Prince Mortimer’s story would have been lost to
us. Instead, a lawyer turned writer named Denis R. Caron wrote a book about his
life titled A Century in Captivity: The Life and Trials of Prince
Mortimer, a Connecticut Slave. Frankly the book does a much better job at
describing early American prison history than it does at painting a
comprehensive picture of Mortimer’s life and of slavery. This is mostly because
primary source material about Mortimer is almost non-existent. Regardless, it
was through this book that I first learned of him.
When he was 103 years old, Mortimer
was transferred from Newgate prison which was being permanently shuttered to
Wethersfield State Prison. There, he spent his final days in solitary
confinement in a 3 1/2 by 7 cell without water or heat. He was still expected
to work even at his advanced age. When Prince Mortimer died in 1834, he was
buried in the prisoners’ cemetery in an unmarked grave.
And so I’ve been thinking about
Herman Wallace in his tiny cell for over 40 years and of Prince Mortimer who
spent 105 years in captivity. I’ve been thinking about the connections between
their lives 140 years apart. Mortimer died incarcerated in 1834 and Wallace was
sentenced to life in prison in 1974. In the brief account about Mortimer in
Phelps’ 1844 book, he writes:
“He appeared a harmless, cleaver old
man, and as his age and infirmities rendered him a burden to his keepers, they
frequently tried to induce him to quit the prison. Once he took his departure,
and after rambling around in search of some one he formerly knew, like the aged
prisoner released from the Bastille, he returned to the gates of the prison,
and begged to be re-admitted to his dungeon home, and in prison ended his
unhappy years.”
As an enslaved black man in America,
Mortimer had been prepared for his prison existence. After all, he’d already
spent 81 years in bondage & captivity before he set foot inside Newgate
prison. Wallace also understood that as a black man, he had been born into a
captive society in a state of confinement where his opportunities were
curtailed. Yet, there was something in Wallace’s spirit that always refused to
be caged. I’d like to think that perhaps Prince Mortimer was by his side
whispering, “Hold on, son. Don’t let them break you.”
Maybe Mortimer lived & died so
that Herman Wallace could experience three days of freedom before his passing.
My mother likes to say that as black people living today, we’ve already been
paid for through our ancestors’ suffering. I don’t know if I agree. But I do
know that Herman Wallace stands on the shoulders of Prince Mortimer. And that I
stand on Wallace’s which means that I can see more of the horizon than either
Mortimer or he could.
Prince Mortimer & Herman Wallace,
I speak your names in the hope that those who will stand on my shoulders make
it closer to true freedom.
I speak your names…
I speak your names…
I speak your names…
Rest in Power!
--Mariame
Kaba is the director of Project NIA.
Farewell Herman
By Albert Woodfox
Well, the old man has decided to
leave us! I am sure it was a very hard choice for him, who will I serve, the
ancestors who have called me home, or humanity whom I love so much?
Old man, was my term of endearment -
it had to do with the age of everything - to do with his heart and soul. Herman
"Hooks" Wallace was not a perfect human being, and like all men, he
had faults and weaknesses, but he also had character! He could make me so mad,
that I wanted to rip his head off! Then he would melt my heart with a word, or
act of kindness to another human being.
On October 1st sitting in a hospital
room, with the other part of my heart (Robert H. King), I tried to will a
miracle and it was granted, not the miracle of life that I wanted but the
miracle of freedom! After 42 years of tireless struggle against evil, he
was a free man!
I wanted so badly to witness his walk
to freedom, but it was not to be, I had to leave, but after losing my mother,
sister and brother in law to cancer, I was at peace!
I had a chance to say goodbye to my
comrade in the struggle, my mentor in life, my fellow panther and most of all,
my friend. Herman taught me that a man can stumble, even fall, as long as he
gets up. That it's OK to be afraid, but hold onto your courage. To lose battle,
is not the loss of a war!
Herman Wallace's greatest pride was
joining the Black Panther Party for self defense! He believed in duty, honor
and dedication. He never broke the faith of the party, his comrades or the
people. As I bent to kiss his forehead, my heart said goodbye - I love you
forever - my soul said - separated but never apart - never touching, but always
connected. He was the best of us, as long as we remember him, he lives on.
All Power to the People!
Albert "Shaka Cinque" Woodfox
(Photos of
banner and mural from North Carolina)
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