How High the Moon Page 19

  It would be seventy years before he was exonerated, his trial and sentence declared a sham.

  Of course, How High the Moon is a work of fiction. George and his family’s relationship with Myrna and hers was entirely made up for the sake of this story. With the exception of the Stinney family, all characters in the story are fictitious. While the story’s location is Alcolu, South Carolina, where George Stinney resided and the murders took place, the location in the book is more of a blend of the Wando, South Carolina, that my mother grew up in the 1940s, and a completely fictional town. I spent time in the Clarendon County area of South Carolina, combed my mother’s and my aunt’s memories, and read a lot of articles related to the case, most of which came with the new trial in 2014.

  George Frierson, a local historian who grew up in Alcolu, challenged the conviction and fought for a retrial, which would be supported, in large part, by the testimony of the Stinney siblings. Testimony that was never heard before. In the initial trial, the prosecutor relied, almost exclusively, on George’s “confession.” That single piece of evidence was not recorded or signed. George, a fourteen-year-old child, was deprived of counsel or even parental guidance. The defense lawyer didn’t even call witnesses. I came to the conclusion of many: that George’s confession was coerced and that an innocent boy was sent to the electric chair. Still, the exact truths cannot be known for certain. We do know that he was not given a fair trial, and barring that, it’s like he was sent to his death without a second thought. As if his life did not matter. As if he had no worth in this world. As if the world was to forget the name of George Stinney.

  But I imagined Ella would not forget. Nor would her friends. Nor has anyone who knows his story. This is a story of family and self-discovery, but it is also the story of three young people who would grow up and remember. In the 1950s and 1960s, they would find their voices and demand the common decency that should be the right of all people, their civil rights, to be treated as equals.

  And, if you pause to listen, you can hear them now.

  Karyn Parsons

  Acknowledgments

  To all my friends, family, and acquaintances who have offered support and encouragement over the years, you have brought me here. Thank you.

  As for this particular journey, I would like to say thank you…

  To my dear friend and agent, Marc Gerald, for remembering, always believing, and making my dream something real. I cannot thank you enough.

  To my wonderful editors Michael Strother and Naomi Colmhurst for your sharp talent and for always being so encouraging and reassuring as you guided me through the frightening and rigorous process of turning a messy early draft into a published book. You made me a better writer along the way.

  Special thanks to Alvina Ling, Nikki Garcia, Ruqayyah Daud, Siena Koncsol, Victoria Stapleton, Rosamund Hutchison, Sonia Razvi, Shreeta Shah, and everyone at Little, Brown and Penguin Random House UK, for your support, enthusiasm, and wisdom throughout the process. Thank you for taking a chance on me.

  Thank you to Meredith Miller for your work in the UK.

  To Jaime Chu for your incredible insight, clarity, and some needed direction.

  To Brian Dunn for your willingness to read and discuss at every stage. Your brilliant (and sometimes brutal) input helped me through the bumpy patches and sludgy bits.

  To Jim Krusoe for lighting the fuse in the first place.

  To Leola Phillips for generously reaching way back and offering up gems from the past.

  To my beautiful children, Lana and Nico, for being my brightest lights. You inspire me every day.

  To my husband, Alexandre Rockwell, for always being my biggest champion. Your love and encouragement make me invincible. Without your wisdom, time, and attention (and so much love), throughout this process, I couldn’t have written this book.

  And…

  To my mom, Louise Parsons, for enchanting me with the story of your childhood and then taking my hand and guiding me down your memory lane. I love you.