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  • Hi Im Emmett. Emmett Till. Im dead, a 14 year old dead kid and i'm here to tell you how I died
  • Im in heaven in case you haven't noticed.
  • My precious baby Emmett
  • I was born July 25, 1941 in Chicago Illinois. I was the first and only child
  • I grew up In a thriving Southside Chicago community full of black owned businesses. Since my dad wasn't around much, I held down the house and my mom worked 12 hours a day.
  • My mom is Mamie Till and my dad was Louis Till, he wasn't around much because he was a soldier.
  • Come on in and get yo hair didLadiesMenBabiesWe welcome All!!
  • Pam and Herbs Hair Salon
  • My father Louis Till was executed in 1945 when I was 3, after being accused of murder and rape.
  • Im Dr.King
  • Segregation and racism was thriving all through the 40's and 50's but so were civil rights activist like Martin Luther King, Rosa parks, A. Phillip Randolph, and Gloria Richardson. They all dedicated their lives for the freedom and equal rights of black people, until they took their final breaths.
  • Im Gloria Richardson
  • The amount of racism is part of the reason I am now deceased and my story motivated these activist to fight even harder
  • I'm A. Phillip Randolph
  • I'm Rosa Parks
  • Whitesonly
  • One night me and my mom had a conversation about going down to Mississippi with my Uncle Mose and cousin. The conversation went something like this...
  • Now baby you know how racist it is down there. I don't want you around all that
  • Momma pleeeeaaasssse let me go visit uncle Mose and cousin
  • Listen to me and listen real good. If you go down there you bette be on your best behavior
  • I promise momma, I promise.
  • And that was that. We were off to the train station so I could head down
  • I love you more momma, I promise I'll becareful
  • I love you baby, Please, Please be careful
  • That day August 19 was the last day I ever say my mother
  • I can wait to see uncle Mose and cousin. I gotta be careful though, real careful.
  • I arrived in Money, Mississippi and I stayed with uncle
  • Im cousin and He's Uncle Mose
  • Segregation laws or Jim Crow laws were thriving so marrying outside your race, ILLEGAL, school and stores were segregated, communicating with other races could get you beat up, and if you were caught by the police you would be fine, thrown in jail, and worst care scenario, KILLED.
  • Let me tell you briefly about some segregation laws in Mississippi
  • Whites Only
  • NEGROES enter through back
  • GroceryMART
  • Me cousin and some friensdecided to go and hang out one day but this is where the story gets spun.
  • On August 24, 1955b I was accused of whistling at a white woman. Some stories say I whistled and some say I actually touched her. None of this happened but here's an idea of what people heard.
  • *Whistles* Bye Baby
  • OMG You just insulted me
  • What really happened was I brought some 2 cent gum and left.
  • I was raised to respect everyone, so I was thanking the grocery clerk, never talked to that woman in my life. By the way her name is Carolyn Bryant
  • Thank you!
  • So on August 28, 1955 Carolyn Bryant's husband Roy Bryant and his brother J.W. Milam forced me out of my uncles home and took me down to the Tallahatchie River.
  • This is Mississippi so calling the police or doing anything could have resulted in way more deaths than just mine. I was scared to death and I prayed for god to watch over me.
  • Give us the boy or we'll leave both of you in cold blood!!!
  • We got em now!! Kill Him
  • They took me down to the Tallahatchie and did the Mose inhumane and sick things imaginable. It shows how evil people be just because you look different from them.
  • They beat me senseless. They shot me in the head, gouged, out my eye, before tying me up to a 75 pound fan which they made me carry before beating me. They tied me to the fan using barbed wire around my neck and threw me in the river hoping the fan would keep me under. Now I reside in peace in heaven and I can only hope that things will change and get better. It has to get better.
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