Without Sanctuary

Studying these photos has endangered me in a profound distrust of the masses and the notion of right and wrong. Inhumane, horrid acts of cruelty on the minorities of race or religion seemed to just happen with no regrets by the men who committed them.
In these photos and postcards, naked men are defaced publicly before being killed; helpless and hanging they became a symbol of the power that the mob of white men had. These pictures are horrific, haunting; I had to turn my eyes away. The hanged men are dangling in such ordinary places, bridges, trees and poles. They are hanging from otherwise beautiful trees. I cannot imagine walking by a street lamp and standing under a horrifically choked man, or smelling the pungent odor of burnt human flesh.

These images remind me of Hughes’ Blue Bayou, with young boys hanging from bridges, trees and such. These dehumanizing acts which flaunt mob power and victimize blacks were common as a way that the mobs took the law into their hands. Seeing these images of hanged men touched me in a way different from simply reading about the same acts of violence. Reading entails visual cues and details, and the words should stir feelings of shock and sadness, but it seems easier to take than actually seeing the violence. The tangible images show real men, people I could have known, people I could have loved. The men who committed these appalling murders were caught up in the fury, ignoring their morals, and that current of mob power is something I now fear and profoundly distrust.

we'll see if this works

well this is just great.