O. O. Edwards did little greeting and mixing around. He appeared to be preoccupied, not to say dedicated, and his look was grim.

  Into this scene and setting Frank T. Cannon made his entrance, and I mean entrance. You could hear people commoting around him as he came through the door. Cannon, Solicitor for the Court of Record of Duval County (Jacksonville), was Ruby McCollum’s new lawyer, replacing the recently disbarred P. Guy Crews. There were three more additions to this item. First, Frank Cannon had been born and raised in the vicinity of Live Oak. Therefore, he was being honored as a home boy who had matched his wits with the lawyers in the big city and made his mark. Then the looks of the man. Cannon is possessed of a challenging head of thick, wavy hair, an extra-handsome profile, becoming sun-tan, tall graceful body clothed in raiment of good taste and good quality. Then the man has what is known in the theatre as stage presence. Something exudes from him and grabs hold of the audience. So smiling voices called out to Cannon, and hands were extended. He was a one-man procession down the aisle. He had stolen the scene from the prosecutor.

  Perhaps in this commotion, I was the only one who looked to see what effect this had on his legal opposition. Edwards registered nothing, but I caught a brief look on the face of Black, that if that look had been a bullet, it would have worked Cannon three times before it killed him and five times afterwards. Nor, was I mistaken in my interpretation of it, for after the trial began, it came out that Black had not only attempted to have Cannon barred from the case, but Cannon publicly accused him of also trying to have him run out of town. A free translation of the reaction of Black to Cannon’s sudden entrance into the case read that Cannon, being who he was, had probably had things pretty much his way around Live Oak before he moved to Jacksonville to seize his share of success and glory there, and now, when this sensational case gave Black his chance at the center of the stage with national publicity, here comes that handsome, wavy-haired fool to hog the spotlight. Black had behaved little, but human. That is my impression of the incident.

  Court set at last, and Ruby McCollum was led in by a State Trooper. Then the place came really alive. I could tell that she had been given the opportunity to groom herself with more care this time. Her hair was pressed and hung in a long bob to her shoulders, but confined loosely by a net. It was parted on the left side neatly, and being December, she had on a coat, a camel’s hair coat bright green in color over a pale yellow wool dress. Her small feet were encased in low-heeled black pumps. She is small, and looked almost childish in her seat.

  She had walked in briskly with an expressionless face. She looked neither to right nor left as she moved to the Defense table and took her seat beside Cannon.

  In the course of the two sanity hearings, the balked first trial, and the real trial, I have striven to enclose my impression of Ruby McCollum in a sentence, but failed. A[s] to her physical appearance, I would say that she is attractive, but not beautiful. A sort of chestnut brown in color, with the breadth of face I think of as feline, though there was nothing sly or calculating in it that I could discern. Even under her terrible strain, she appeared to be possessed of dignity. As before, she seemed to set herself as she took her seat in a resolved position. Her right elbow rested on the arm of the chair, and her head resting on her hand, [s]lightly inclined to the right. I did have the impression that every muscle of her body was consciously set and locked in place as she sat lest they betray her disturbed condition. The only signs of nervous-strain that she exhibited was an occasional [s]win[g]ing of her crossed feet. Again, she would extend her right hand at full length and examine it in minute detail. Flex and extend the fingers and look at them very studiously; turn it and examine palm and back as if it were something new and interesting to her. Since it was the hand which had wielded the gun on Dr. Adams, I could fancy that she might be regarding it as having a separate existence, a life and will of its own and had acted without her knowledge or consent.

  There was one poignant, one heart-rending scene while Ruby was on the stand. She maintained her shut-in, expressionless mask through the questioning by State and her own counsel until one could say that Ruby McCollum was a woman without nerves until that time, as Cannon led her through her story to the moment of the actual slaying. Ruby did not break down and weep piteously; she did not scream out in agony of memory with her voice, but there was an abrupt halt in her testimony and something rushed forth from the deeps of her tortured soul and inhabited her face for a space. The quintessence of human agony was there. I witnessed momentarily the anguish of the hours, perhaps the days and weeks which preceded the slaying on August third, the indescribable emotions of the resolve to slay, to b[l]ot out from the world that which she had come to know and which tightened her hand upon the gun, and the memories of it all which lived down deep in barred cavities in the cellar of her soul with an eternal life which she could bestow but could not take away. What I beheld in the eyes of Ruby McCollum in that instant when she balked into silence, when the agony of her memories robbed her of the power of speech for a time, may God be kind and never permit me to behold again. In a flash, I comprehended the spacial infinity of the human mind, that mother of monsters and angels, and the ineffable glory and unspeakable horror of its creations.

  That illuminated minute was the hub and life of the trial for me. It gave sense and meaning to all that had gone before and everything that could possibly follow. Now, I could discern that what was going on in the courtroom was nothing more than a mask, and that the real action existed on the other side of silence. The defendant had freely admitted the slaying of Dr. Adams. She was in the hands of the law, and therefore, there was no reason for the legal machinery of Suwannee County and the State of Florida to be operating here on the case except to fix the degree of the guilt of Ruby McCollum.

  Yet, thirty-eight times Frank T. Cannon had attempted to create opportunity for the defendant to tell her story and thus throw light on her motives, and thirty-eight times the State had objected, and thirty-eight times Judge Adams had sustained these objections. My faith was in Judge Adams, and after that terrible minute, I looked at him confidently and said, almost audibly, no, Judge Adams will never allow this. He will never consent for any human being to be sent to their death without permitting the jury to hear their side of the story. He won’t! Judge Adams won’t! It was only when he exhibited anger and threatened Cannon with contempt of Court if he persisted, that I wilted back, first in my soul and then in my seat. My disillusionment was terrible. My faith had been so strong. Cannon’s words, uttered with tragic resignation, “May God forgive you for robbing a human being of life in such a fashion. I would not want it on my conscience.”

  But race had nothing to do with me. Had Judge Adams been as black as Marcus Garvey, and Ruby McCollum as fair as the lily-maid of Astolat, still I would have felt the same.6 And my discomfort increased when I then recalled that A. K. Black and Dr. C. LeRoy Adams were on the most intimate terms, and so it was hardly possible that he did not know all that Ruby had to tell already. He made no denial when Cannon charged directly, “And nobody knows this any better than the State.” (Black)

  This impression was deepened when Thelma Curry, the late Dr. Adams’ Colored receptionist, was called to the stand as a prosecution witness. Things went on very well until she tried to tell about a quarrel she overheard between Dr. Adams and Ruby a few days before the slaying. Immediately she was recalled from the stand by Edwards, and Adams added his bit by telling her, “Get down and go back where you came from!” Nor had she been allowed to tell what she knew about the letter.

  That letter! It is still my impression and ever will be that the motive for the killing was in that letter. The State based its whole case on that letter, maintaining that it was nothing more than a monthly medical bill for $116 and that Ruby shot Dr. Adams four times rather than pay it, still this letter was never introduced in evidence by the State. This added to my mounting feeling of horror. I could not avoid the conclusion that the omission had purpose, and that purpose was sinister. Therefore, I lacked the feel of solemnity I should have felt when Ruby stood and was sentenced to death by Judge Hal Adams. And her statement when she was asked if she had anything to say, and she said [simply], “I do not know whether I did right or not when I killed Dr. Adams,” held a mountain of meaning for me.

  I sum up my impressions of the trial of Ruby McCollum for the murder of Dr. C. LeRoy Adams in the clearest way I know how, now. It was as if I walked in a dream, somebody else’s dream, of fog and mist with occasional heavy drops of cold rain. Somewhere beyond me, and hidden from me by the enshrouding mists, the tremendous action of this drama of Ruby McCollum and Dr. Adams, and the actors in the trial went on. It was behind a sort of curtain, on the other side of silence.7

  Acknowledgments from the Editors

  Any volume such as this is indebted to the contributions of many. We appreciate the Zora Neale Hurston Trust entrusting us with this important project, and we stand on the shoulders of Hurston scholars who came before us, particularly Robert Hemenway, Hurston’s first biographer. We appreciate our team at Aevitas Creative for advocating for us and this project. Our editor at Amistad, Tracy Sherrod, lent her keen eye to shape the final vision for the volume.

  Archivists and librarians around the nation were generous and helpful as we sought to identify and collect published and unpublished writings by Hurston and worked to identify the many historical figures mentioned in them. For guiding us through collections, helping locate missing items and otherwise unidentifiable people, responding quickly to emails (even in the midst of a global pandemic, no less), arranging scans and processing payment, we are so very appreciative. Those who provided assistance include: Tara C. Craig, Head of Public Services Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Columbia University; Loretta Deaver, Reference Librarian, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress; Joellen ElBashir, Curator, Manuscript Division, Moorland-Spingarn Research Center, Howard University; Simon Elliott, Public Services, UCLA Library, Department of Special Collections; Kathy Lafferty, Reference Librarian, Spencer Research Library, University of Kansas; Tomaro Taylor, Head of Special Collections, University of South Florida Libraries; Florence M. Turcotte, Literary Manuscripts Archivist, Department of Special and Area Studies Collections, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida; Vianca Victor, Rare Book & Manuscript Library Public Service Specialist, Columbia University; Sonja N. Woods, Archivist, University Archives, Moorland-Spingarn Research Center, Howard University; Lewis Wyman, Reference Librarian, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress; and the staff of The University of Alabama Libraries Annex, including Kevin Ray, Institutional Records Analyst, Hoole Special Collections; and Jon Ezell, Coordinator of Creative Media & Instructional Design Librarian.

  Transcribing, editing, and annotating this volume was made possible by three creative arts and humanities research grants at Texas Woman’s University. Tracy Lindsay, Director of Operations, and Rocío Gutiérrez, Senior Grants Analyst, in the Office of Research and Sponsored Programs provided tremendous support. The funding supported smart and dedicated graduate research assistants in the department of language, culture, and gender studies. Each contributed to the project in important ways. Allyson Hibdon, MA in English, provided early support for the project, helping with organization and scanning that got the project up and running. Daniel Stefanelli, MA in English, transcribed, collated, and annotated texts and served as a valuable resource for thinking through the theoretical challenges posed by the materials. Jodi Meyer, MA in English, saw the project to completion—transcribing, collating, and annotating, as well as assisting with the apparatus. Elizabeth D. Headrick, MLS, in her role as a graduate research assistant in the Blagg-Huey Library’s digital services department, put her skills to good use with OCR software to help improve the quality of images we relied upon. We are so grateful for their assistance. Professor West dedicates her work here to Leland Evan Fager II, her late brother.

  Harvard University provided tremendous support as well. Julie Wolf, our stellar copy editor, helped us to blend our voices in the introduction. Abby Wolf, Executive Director, and Dr. Sheldon Cheek, Curator, Image of the Black Archive & Library, both at the Hutchins Center for African & African American Research, proved enormously helpful as we worked to identify intellectual property rights for the essays published here. It was a significant undertaking. Their time and insights are much appreciated. Professor Gates also extends a special thanks to his wife, the brilliant historian Marial Iglesias Utset and to Dr. Kevin Burke, Director of Research at the Hutchins Center.

  Acknowledgments from the Zora Neale Hurston Trust

  The trustees for the Zora Neale Hurston Trust gratefully acknowledge the contributions made by so many people who conducted extensive research to recover and compile relevant essays written by Zora Neale Hurston in order that they could be shared with Zora’s multitudes of fans and the reading public in the outstanding work, “You Don’t Know Us Negroes” and Other Essays.

  We are deeply indebted to Dr. Henry Louis Gates Jr. for lending his considerable editorial skills and literary talent to this project. It is because of his appreciation of Zora as an author, ethnologist, filmmaker, and critic that he has so ably undertaken the task of introducing these essays in a context that helps us to understand the historical period in which they were written as well as Zora’s perception of the realities of the time. We are also deeply indebted to Dr. Genevieve West, a professor of English who brought her talents in English and languages to bear on this project. Her research and presentation of Zora’s essays capture Zora as a prescient observer of universal thinking and behavior that exists throughout time.

  We want to acknowledge the many others who worked to bring these essays to light for today’s readers. We especially want to thank Tracy Sherrod, Amistad’s editorial director, and her staff, whose dedication to the success of “You Don’t Know Us Negroes” and Other Essays is evident throughout this work. In addition, we want to acknowledge Tara Parsons, Amistad’s associate publisher, and her staff for their contributions to the success of this outstanding compilation of essays. We also want to acknowledge Judith Curr, HarperOne Group president, for her continuing advocacy of Zora’s works. We especially want to acknowledge our agent, Joy Harris, and those in her agency who work tirelessly each day to assure the success of Hurston projects. We thank you for bringing “You Don’t Know Us Negroes” and Other Essays into the sunshine.

  We extend our heartfelt appreciation to Zora’s family of authors, journalists, teachers, academicians, scholars, literary reviewers, and her many legions of fans and readers whose continuing appreciation of Zora’s works has brought her name to its well-deserved place in the literary canon of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.

  Chronological List of Essays

  “Bits of Our Harlem,” 1922

  “The Hue and Cry About Howard University,” 1925

  “The Emperor Effaces Himself,” ca. 1925

  “The Ten Commandments of Charm,” 1926

  “Noses,” 1926

  “How It Feels to Be Colored Me,” 1928

  “Characteristics of Negro Expression,” 1934

  “Conversions and Visions,” 1934

  “Shouting,” 1934

  “Spirituals and Neo-Spirituals,” 1934

  “Race Cannot Become Great Until It Recognizes Its Talent,” 1934

  “You Don’t Know Us Negroes,” ca. 1934

  “Fannie Hurst,” 1937

  “Art and Such,” ca. 1938

  “Stories of Conflict,” 1938

  “The Chick with One Hen,” ca. 1938

  “Now Take Noses,” 1939

  “Ritualistic Expression from the Lips of the Communicants of the Seventh Day Church of God,” 1940

  “Lawrence of the River,” 1942

  “High John de Conquer,” 1943

  “The ‘Pet Negro’ System,” 1943

  “Negroes Without Self Pity,” 1943

  “The Last Slave Ship,” 1944

  “My Most Humiliating Jim Crow Experience,” 1944

  “The Rise of the Begging Joints,” 1945

  “Crazy for This Democracy,” 1945

  “Jazz Regarded as Social Achievement,” 1946

  “Review of Voodoo in New Orleans by Robert Tallant,” 1947

  “The Lost Keys of Glory,” ca. 1947

  “What White Publishers Won’t Print,” 1950

  “I Saw Negro Votes Peddled,” 1950

  “Mourner’s Bench,” 1951

  “A Negro Voter Sizes Up Taft,” 1951

  Ruby McCollum Series “Zora’s Revealing Story of Ruby’s 1st Day in Court!,” October 11, 1952; “Victim of Fate!,” October 11, 1952; “Ruby Sane!,” October 18, 1952; “Ruby McCollum Fights for Life,” November 22, 1952; “Bare Plot Against Ruby,” November 29, 1952; “Trial Highlights,” November 29, 1952; “Justice and Fair Play Aim of Judge Adams as Ruby Goes on Trial,” November 29, 1952; “McCollum-Adams Trial Highlights,” December 27, 1952; “Ruby Bares Her Love Life,” January 3, 1953; “Ruby’s Story: Doctor’s Threats, Tussle over Gun Led to Slaying!,” January 10, 1953; “Ruby’s Troubles Mount: Named in $100,000 Lawsuit!” January 17, 1953; “The Life Story of Mrs. Ruby J. McCollum,” February 28, March 7, March 14, March 21, March 28, April 4, April 11, April 18, April 25, May 2, 1953