There is honestly not an appropriate way to end this story. It began with a tragic event and ended without any justice or penalty. When I discovered the outcome of this story, I was simply sad. It seems impossible to me that no one was held accountable. However, I hope that after reading this heartbreaking story – you can find a renewed sense of appreciation for our law enforcement officers and military that place themselves in harm’s way every day.
May we never forget
Sheriff John Macon Poag
End of Watch – April 12, 1905
I periodically google “Sheriff J.M. Poag” and always tend to find the same information. Recently, I found an interesting excerpt from an eBook called “Nobody Knows Where the Blues Come From: Lyrics and History” about a musician from our area named Sid Hemphill.
If you follow the Mississippi Blues Trail, it will take you Sid Hemphill’s marker at Gabbert Park in Senatobia. Mr. Hemphill was recorded in 1945 by Alan Lomax. As Lomax and Hemphill discussed his music, Hemphill told a story of a man named Sam Howell (one of the members of the mob) who asked him to write a song. I was completely shocked when I read the words and listened to the song below:
The Strayhorn Mob
Them boys around Strayhorn, they didn’t have no job,
Went to Senatoby, they had a big mob,
Laid him low.
They went round to the jailhouse, “Jailer! We wants the key,”
Said, “Boys, if you gets the key, you gwine to have to murder me,”
“We’ll lay you low.”
Some walked round the jailhouse, stopped in at the gate,
Some of ’em made a shot with a thirty-eight,
They laid him low.
Well, you talk about some runnin’ then, all of ’em run just lake quails,
Oughta been there to see them run, seen Mister Will Sinquefield,
They laid him low.
Well, they’re talkin’ ’bout that mob, hasn’t been nary one since,
Talkin’ ’bout Mister Hunter, when he jumped the courtyard fence,
And laid him low.
Mister Norman Clayton, he told the boys, “Boys, now, if y’all all wait,
We’ll soon get back to Strayhorn if we can follow a trottin’ gait,”
They laid him low.
Senatoby boys was ragin’ mad, but they didn’t play so bad,
Scared to fool with the Strayhorn boys, Mister Sam Howell was bad,
He’ll lay you low.
These Strayhorn boys, tell you boys, tell you-all a certain fact,
The hounds got on their tracks, and they brought the boys back,
But they laid him low.
When they tried the Strayhorn boys, they did not try ’em here,
Tried the boys most everywhere, but they all sure come clear,
They laid him low.
When they tried the Strayhorn boys, did not try ’em alone,
Tried the boys most everywhere, but they sure come home,
They laid him low.
Mister Norman Clayton, told the boys again, “Boys, if y’all have a little wait,
We’ll soon get back to Strayhorn if we can follow a trottin’ gait,”
They laid him low.
When the boys got to runnin’ there, they didn’t run like quails,
Oughta been there to see ’em run, seen Mister Will Sinquefield,
Laid him low.