A Book A Week

Last spring, I traveled to Washington, DC, to celebrate my birthday. With its convenient public transportation, incredible food scene, and deep historical roots, it’s a city that’s both easy to navigate and endlessly fascinating. It had been nearly a decade since my last visit, and one of the stops I was most eager to make was the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. During my previous trip, the museum was still under construction, so finally experiencing its vast collection was something I had anticipated for years. The exhibits are extensive and impossible to take in fully in just one day.

Tucked into a quiet corner of the museum is a small room designed to resemble a Southern chapel. At its altar rests the original coffin in which young Emmett Till was laid to rest. Standing in that space, I was overwhelmed with emotion, completely transported to one of the darkest moments in American history. A photo inside the coffin shows Till’s brutalized face, nearly unrecognizable, while soft hymns play in the background. Elsewhere in the museum, a vandalized metal sign commemorating Till’s murder, riddled with bullet holes, serves as a chilling reminder that the hate that took his life is still alive today.

Wright Thompson understands the deep-seated history of racism in the South all too well. His family farm in the Mississippi Delta sits just 23 miles from the site of one of the most infamous and consequential murders in American history. In The Barn, he digs into the hidden truths surrounding Emmett Till’s death, exposing a long-standing system of deception and silence that has protected those responsible for generations. As Thompson reveals, the true story is even more complex and harrowing than many realize.

Money, Mississippi, has long been marked as the place where Till was killed, but the exact location of the murder has mostly been erased from the history books. The crime took place in a barn owned by one of his murderers, nestled in a six-square-mile stretch of land officially designated as Township 22 North, Range 4 West, Section 2, West Half. It is steeped in Delta history and myth, not far from the legendary Dockery Plantation. That barn still stands today, an unassuming relic of an unspeakable atrocity. The current owner now uses it for storage, keeping Christmas decorations in the very space where Till’s body once hung, a stark and unsettling contrast to its horrific past.

Through his deep ties to the region, its people, and its culture, Thompson meticulously reconstructs the true events of that fateful night. He holds accountable those who committed the crime and the system that shielded them from justice.

The Barn expands our understanding of the Emmett Till case, shedding new light on the circumstances that led to his tragic and inevitable death. It is a stark reckoning with America’s legacy of racism and a sobering reminder of how a single lie can spiral into irreversible consequences. I was stunned by how much of this history I had never been taught. Growing up in South Texas, Till’s story was only briefly mentioned in my school history lessons. The full weight of it only became apparent as I sought the truth on my own. Thompson’s account is unflinching, often uncomfortable, but undeniably essential. What struck me most is just how recent this history is. This isn’t some distant past. Many of the people involved are still alive. The Barn is a necessary read, both as a reflection on our past and a warning of how easily history can repeat itself.

For more information, visit the author's website, Amazon, and Goodreads. 

(2025, 17)