I did it to myself, I suppose. A while back, for a treat, I took a trip
downtown, to the Big Library, as opposed to the smaller, local one I
normally use. I like to go the library with specific intent. I carry
with me a list of books gleaned from recently read reviews. Sometimes I
have a list of authors I've been reading so that I might find their
other works. Not to be rigid, I remain open to the off chance I might
see something eye catching and in turn thought provoking. The Big
Library has succumbed to the old video store metaphor and instituted a
"New Release" section. That day, glaring at me from the shelf was George
Jackson, the Head Soledad Brother, convict, killer, best-selling author,
dead 53 years this summer. I had to get it.
The name of the book is "The
Road to Hell". It's by Paul Liberatore. The book is about two men,
Jackson and Steve Bingham, the white, New Left attorney, who remained a
fugitive for 14 years after Jackson was killed in an abortive,
murderous, suicidal escape attempt using a smuggled 9mm automatic inside
of San Quentin. The gun surfaced minutes after a meeting between Jackson
and Bingham in a private visiting room. Bingham was the logical suspect.
Me
I read the book in turmoil. I take too much pride in my left-wing views
and wish at times I had been of age so as to join the outspoken,
radical, New Left of the 60s. Then, my other personality asserts
itself. I spent my twenties working in a prison, aware that we have a
fucked-up criminal justice system but also aware that there are people
you better be glad are locked up. With whom could I sympathize? I am (or
was) the man, a pig, in George Jackson's world and yet myself a despiser
of the smug system which builds more prisons than schools?
The book gives solid biographical information on Jackson and Bingham.
They were white and black. One matriculated at prep school and Yale, the
other in reform school and Soledad. The author, Liberatore, excels as he
lays out the story, capturing the heady radicalism of the time without
being seduced by it.
George Jackson
George Jackson was convicted at age 18 of robbing a gas station of $70.
It was his third serious offense and he was sentenced to a 1 year -Life
sentence. While in prison he became increasingly militant and discovered
he had a real talent for one thing, writing. He became famous for a
collection of his letters published as "Soledad Brother." His world
started to crumble in 1969 when he and two other inmates were accused of
killing a guard. His younger brother was killed when he supplied weapons
to convicts who were at the courthouse to testify at a trial involving
Angela Davis. A famous photograph was taken of one of them aiming a
pistol at a judges head during this incident which ended with the judges
death as well as that of Jackson's brother. Less than a year later, on
the eve of his trial, Jackson was killed. During the events surrounding
his death, two guards and two white inmates died with their throats cut.
Jackson killed another guard by shooting him in the head as he knelt on
a bed. Liberatore skillfully explains the relationship between Jackson,
The Black Panthers, and the white radical movement centered in Berkely.
Steve Bingham
Steve Bingham was a member of that movement. From a wealthy East Coast
family (his grandfather discovered Machu Pichu in the Andes) he had an
impeccable leftist background. Bingham spent the Freedom Summer of 1964
in Mississippi. He served in the Peace Corps in Africa for two years
after graduating from law school. His entire legal career prior to his
flight was spent in public and private agencies for the poor and
underprivileged. He was radical enough to make two clandestine trips to
Cuba and to assist in the takeover of part of the Berkely campus.
Liberatore does a great job reporting on the events of the shootout. He
deftly follows Bingham's trail out of the US to Europe. The next 14
years of Bingham's life are covered in detail. The story reaches its
climax when Bingham returns to the US to surrender and face trial.
I finished this book at 2:20 am. Not once did I nod off, nor did I
require coffee to maintain the stamina needed for this long start to
finish literary marathon. If you have any remote interest in the radical
politics of the era, this book is for you. If you have any interest in
American crime and punishment, this book is for you. If you like good
writing, this book is for you.
