Fresh Air - A Love Story At The Center Of The Civil Rights Movement

Episode Date: April 18, 2025

MSNBC host Joy-Ann Reid tells the story of Medgar Evers and his wife Myrlie. Medgar was the NAACP field secretary in Mississippi, a state that lynched more Black people than any other. The risks of the job created a lot of tension in their marriage — and after Medgar's 1963 assassination, Myrlie's fury drove her to be an activist herself.And film critic Justin Chang reviews Sinners, the new supernatural thriller by director Ryan Coogler, starring Michael B. Jordan.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

Support for NPR and the following message come from Yarle and Pamela Mohn, thanking the people who make public radio great every day and also those who listen. This is Fresh Air. I'm David Bianculli. How to be a civil rights widow is one chapter title in a book by Joy Reid, the former MSNBC Evening Show host. The widow is Merle Evers. Her husband was Medgar Evers, a civil rights

activist who served as the NAACP's Mississippi field secretary and risked his life to push for voting rights, desegregation, and freedom. Reed's book is called Medgar and Merle and is now out in paperback. Medgar and Merle were both from Mississippi. Merley constantly worried about the safety of her husband and their children, with good reason. Their house was firebombed. Later in June 1963, Medgar was assassinated just outside the door of their home. Murley had heard the gunshot and found her husband bleeding out. His was the first in a series of high profile assassinations in the 1960s.

Next came President John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Martin Luther King Jr., and Robert Kennedy. Joy Reid describes her book, Medgar and Murley, as a love story, between two black people in Mississippi, their love for their children, and the higher love it took for black Americans to love America and to fight for it, even in the state that butchered more black bodies via lynching than any other. The love story between Murley and Medgar Evers also is fraught with tension,

with Murley objecting to how much he was away from home, leaving her wondering if he loved his work more than he loved his family. He often left her alone to deal with the constant phone calls threatening the lives of her family. After her husband's death, Murley became an activist, an in-demand public speaker, and executive director of the NAACP. She gave the invocation at President Obama's second inauguration. Joy Reid spoke with Terry Gross last year. Joy Reid, welcome to Fresh Air. Oh, thank you, Terry.

It is so wonderful to be here. It's a pleasure to have you here. You think, and rightfully so, I think, that Medgar Evers hasn't really gotten the recognition he deserves as an important figure in the civil rights movement. I think he's more famous for getting assassinated than for the work he actually did. That's true. I think he's more famous for getting assassinated than for the work he actually did.

D.L. That's true. I think that's true. And, you know, I think part of that is because of the just momentous year in which he was murdered, 1963. So many things happened in 1963 that kind of overwhelmed knowledge of what happened, of what he did. You start with this landmark speech that President Kennedy gave hours before Medgar was assassinated in front of his home, a speech in which John F. Kennedy, the President of the United States, was echoing the language that Medgar Evers, a fellow World War II veteran, was using in order to push for civil rights and change in Mississippi. Then he is assassinated. The world paid profound attention to it for that moment. But then later that summer, you have the March on Washington, the bombing in Birmingham that killed four little girls.

And then at the end of that year, you have the assassination of the President of the United States. Those things alone overwhelmed the knowledge of Medgar Evers just in the moment. And then you have two years later, Malcolm X being assassinated. And then five years after Medgar, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. is assassinated. And then in between, you've got Freedom Summer

and the assassinations of Goodwin, Schwerner, and Cheney. So there's so many events that happened both in Mississippi and nationally that his legacy sort of became overwhelmed. Give us an overview of the work that he did. So you start with Emmett Till at the time, most high-profile lynching that had taken place in America. This was a 14-year-old boy who had family in Mississippi, had roots in Mississippi, but lived in Chicago, came down for the summer to be with his cousins. He's murdered for

sassing a white woman. It is only because of Medgar Evers that there was ever a trial. Because typically in the South, when a black person was murdered by a white person or white people, nothing happened. It wasn't, in fact, illegal, in a sense, to kill black people. You could kill at will if you were white, because the justice system would never hold you to account. But Medgar really believed that people should be held to account for killing black people, for destroying black bodies and black lives. He is the one who went into the Delta to compel terrified sharecroppers, including Emmett Till's uncle, to testify against white men.

He of course then had to spirit those people out of the state of Mississippi. But it is only because of him that the world really knew about this case and that case ever went to trial. You talk about Kennedy's speech. Kennedy is literally echoing the man who had been repeatedly telegraphing him from Mississippi, Medgar Evers, who was demanding, begging for federal troops to come to Mississippi because Mississippians were being denied the basic right to vote. And then there's James Meredith. And Medgar Evers had applied to Ole Miss, the University of Mississippi.

And of course, he was denied admission because he was black. They were not accepting black students. So when James Meredith applied, testing desegregation, it was Medgar Evers who went right to his support. What did he do to help Meredith get in? Well, James Meredith actually made the call to the NAACP, to Thurgood Marshall, from Medgar and Murley Evers' home. So he calls and, you know, it is Medgar that gets him representation from the NAACP after, you know, James Meredith is, he's a very special guy. I interviewed him for the book and he's very caustic. And he gets into this argument on the phone with Thurgood Marshall and hangs up on him. And it's Medgar that says, you know what, we might want to call

him back. And he talks James Meredith down, which was not easy to do, but his brother Charles was similar in temperament, so he knew how to deal with someone like him. And he manages to call back and get James Meredith, the NAACP lawyers that actually successfully get him through the court cases that get him admitted in a very violent riot induced way into Ole Miss. Danielle Pletka Medgar-Evers was the Mississippi field secretary for the NAACP, but his approach often diverged from the organizations. The NAACP under Roy Wilkins defined its work as being work through the courts.

But Everest didn't always want to work through the courts. He appreciated that the work was being done in the courts, but he thought more was needed. What were the kind of protests that he helped organize? Well, and in addition to being the field secretary, he was actually the first field secretary. They created the position for him as, in part, a way to discourage him from reapplying to Ole Miss. They saw in him an activist who had potential, but they really didn't want him to make this

application himself. They were like, come and work for us. He went to New York, he interviewed with Roy Wilkins, and they gave him the job. What they told him to do was go back to Mississippi and register people for NAACP memberships and register them to vote. But what he understood is that people weren't going to register to vote if they were being terrorized. You know, not only could you be evicted from the plantation where you lived if you tried to register to vote, you could be lynched for it. And so people were too scared.

And he understood that what you needed first was people to develop the courage to move forward and demand their citizenship. So a lot of people in Mississippi were too afraid to register for the NAACP or to, you know, call out racism. But the people who were willing to do that were the high school students and the college students. And so Medgar Evers wanted to work with them. What did the NAACP say to that? They said no, quite simply. They said, this is not what we want. And Medgar was threatened with being fired multiple times because he

believed that the courage that was needed was found in the youth. It was young people, quite frankly, like James Cheney, who as a 15-year-old was expelled from school for pinning an NAACP membership sticker on his lapel. He was part of these NAACP youth councils that Medgar was setting up all over the state. And so he's nurturing these young people who wanted liberation now. They didn't want to wait for court cases to be listened to by white people. They believed that they could get their liberation for themselves. And that courage absolutely existed in college students from Tougaloo and Alcorn and from high school kids. And that courage absolutely existed in college students from Tougaloo and Alcorn

and from high school kids. And he believed in them. And his bosses said, unacceptable, we're wasting money bailing them out of jail. Stop. Danielle Pletka I think it's interesting the way you get to some divisions within the civil rights movement at the time, not only between Evers and the NAACP, but Evers and groups like the Student Nonviolent Coordination Committee and CORE, the Congress on Racial Equality, groups that were coming down to Mississippi. He was concerned about the Freedom Riders coming down to Mississippi because he thought it would jeopardize the work that Mississippi civil rights workers and activists were already

doing. What was he worried about? Well, I think part of it was that he had this fundamental belief that people needed to fight for liberation for themselves. They didn't need the courage imported in from the North. And that only when Mississippians themselves were fighting for their liberation, would that liberation be real? Because those northern activists were going to go home. When they were finished with their freedom summer, they could go back. Now, that didn't always happen. Obviously, Goodman and Schwerner never went home, and they were taking risks, tremendous risks as well. But he just fundamentally

believed it had to come from within the Mississippi community. He also believed that they were just going to relearn the same lessons he had already learned. He had already worked in the Delta. He already had lived in the Delta. And they were just going to show up in these communities and find out how terrified people were, and they would have the same results he did, not being able to register people to vote. And that's exactly what happened. Danielle Pletka Expand on that. What happened? Danielle Pletka So, Bob Moses and other activists came down. Of course, Bob Moses was this brilliant activist from New York and a math genius. And he comes

down and he winds up working in the Delta, actually using some of the infrastructure that Medgar had helped to set up in these NAACP satellite offices. And some of those same activists joined and helped out, but there were a lot of northern activists that were working there as well. But when the numbers came in from how many people were actually being registered, the numbers were actually quite low. And Medgar was frustrated that he had already known that and felt that the northern activists didn't quite understand the kind of terror that they were dealing with.

On the other hand, like the Freedom Riders brought so much national attention to what was happening in the South. It absolutely did. And you know, it's interesting because the Freedom Riders themselves really wanted Dr. King to be on those buses with them because they thought that they needed his notoriety in order to get the attention. But it turned out white Southerners did the work for them by firebombing buses, by reacting with such tremendous violence and vehemence. It turned the national spotlight on the South. And the original destination of the Freedom Rides was New Orleans, but

they didn't get through Alabama and Mississippi without tremendous headlines that were caused by the violence that was meted out upon them. Danielle Pletka Medgar Evers fought in World War II. He was actually on Omaha Beach on D-Day. After he returned home, how did he see the U.S., and in particular Mississippi, differently than he'd seen it before? Well, you know, what's fascinating about Medgar Evers and all of those black men who fought in World War I and World War II is that when they returned, they had traveled more widely than most white Americans had. He had seen Europe a place where there

was no de jure segregation, where he could have a white girlfriend, and he did, in France, whose parents completely approved of the relationship. He could walk around freely without fear of lynching. And despite the fact that their units were still segregated and white officers and commanders still spoke to and treated black servicemen as second-class citizens, they officially could not enforce Jim Crow in Europe. And when Medgar came back, he was already someone who was interested in the world. He was kind of fascinated with the anti-colonial movements in places like Kenya. He came back even more convinced that Mississippi was not only not the world, it was an aberration in the world and

that black people were meant to live the way he had been able to live freely in Europe. And while that didn't mean that he could bring his white girlfriend home to Mississippi, he certainly could not. It meant that he ought to be able to be treated as a man. And when he arrives back in Decatur, Mississippi, he gets on the bus in his full uniform and is told to go to the back of the bus. And he says, I'm not going to do that. I was willing to die for my country overseas, and I'm not going to come home and be treated

as a second-class citizen. And he took the beating of his life, he said, but he was a different man after that. Danielle Pletka I want to get to an early part of his life's story when he is exposed to a lynching of his father's friend. I think this is a real like significant story. Tell us what happened. So, the Evers family knew a man named Mr. Tingle who lived in town, in the town of Decatur. And when Medgar was either 7 or 11, depending on whether he or Charles Evers, his brother, who was a very ostentatious fellow, was telling the story, they were walking to school and they saw the, passed by the bloody clothes of this gentleman who had been lynched for sassing a white woman, which was something that could

get you lynched in the South and particularly in Mississippi. And they had actually seen this gentleman being dragged through the streets earlier in that morning. And he was beaten. He was shot. His body was shot full of holes. And the clothes were left behind in the Decatur Fairgrounds as a message to every black Mississippian that this could happen to you if you stepped out of line in any way. And that made an impression on him. He never forgot it. And it was his father who collected the body and brought him to the funeral home. Yes, his father's uncle had a funeral home. And so his father, who they called Crazy Jim, because he was one of the few blacks who did not bow down to white people, which made white people think he was insane, and they called him Crazy Jim, He picked the body up, took it to the funeral home, and Medgar asked

him, could you be lynched that way? And his father, who again was the strongest person he knew, was a tough guy who would stand up to white people. He said, absolutely, I could be lynched. And it gave Medgar this sense of a lack of safety, that his strong, big, you know, tall dad also couldn't protect him, couldn't protect him any more than Willie Tingle could be protected. And it terrified him. And the thing that really enraged him was the silence, the fact that there were no marches, no protests. This gentleman was not spoken about in church on Sunday. He was sort of forgotten as if he just vanished. Let's talk about how Medgar and Murley first met.

They both went to the historically black college Alcorn A&M, which later became Alcorn State University. He was 25 because he had already come back from the war, and she was 17. So that at the time seemed like a very big age difference. They were in different places in terms of fighting for equality. Describe her background. So, Merle Evers, Merle Louise Beasley was her original last name. She grew up in Vicksburg, Mississippi, which was a rural town, obviously very segregated,

just like all of Mississippi. And she was raised by her grandmother and her aunt, whose name was also Murley. Her grandmother in particular was a huge influence on her. They taught her to be prim, to be proper, to speak properly, to play the piano. And so she was taught to be a good girl. And her grandmother and her aunt gave her three prohibitions when she went to college. They said, you are not to date an upperclassman, a football player, or a veteran. Medgar was all three. Danielle Pletka When she and Medgar Evers started seeing each other, he said, you're going to be the mother of my children.

I'm going to shape you into the, you're going to be the mother of my children. I'm going to shape you into the woman I want you to be. That made me very uncomfortable. I don't like it when men decide they want to be involved with women who they can mentor, because that ends up being a very unequal relationship. You don't want to be your boyfriend or your husband's student. You want to be their equal. So what was your reaction when you heard that? Well, it's funny because Merle's reaction was, you got a huge job ahead of you, buddy. She was actually angry that he said that. It made her angry. And he would say things all the time that would annoy her, right? Like, he was challenging to her in one sense, is that, you know, he would talk to her about the world,

about, you know, about Kenya, about the Mao Mao who were, you know, fomenting revolution to get out from under the British Empire. And he would talk about the world and about the world beyond America, about Europe. And so, in that sense, she was intrigued by him. But he also infuriated her. And he would say things like that. Those are the things that would annoy her. But you have to remember, this was also the 1950s, when the idea of women being the equal of their husbands was not a thing. It was not a thing for white women, and it was not a thing for black women. And so while it did infuriate and annoy her, it wasn't a dealbreaker.

And that's in part because of the era. And she said, we argued like crazy. They fought over his work. What were her objections? Well, you know, Murley really did aspire to be a 1950s housewife. When she fell in love with this man, she thought they would go off into the sunset and he'd be an insurance salesman. And in fact, he literally got a job as an insurance salesman.

And she thought, you know, she didn't want to be where they were living, Mount Bayou, which was in the Delta, which she hated. The bugs, the heat, she just couldn't take it. She wanted to be in the city. She was bored. She was miserable. She was lonely because he was out selling insurance all day. But she was terrified because while he was selling insurance for

TRM Howard's insurance company, and TRM Howard was a hugely influential man among black civil rights activists, he was an activist but also a businessman and a wealthy man. And she hated the fact that he was risking his life selling freedom and civil rights with insurance and telling these Delta residents, listen, you have rights accruable to you as citizens while he's saying you also need to have these policies so that your family can survive economically. She was terrified and she was angry that she felt he was choosing this work and this civil

rights work over her and their children. Joy Reid spoke to Terry Gross last year. Her book about Medgar and Murley Evers, titled Medgar and Murley, is now out in paperback. We'll continue their conversation after a short break. And later, Justin Chang reviews the new supernatural thriller, Sinner. I'm David B. and Cooley, and this is Fresh Air. Support for NPR and the following message

come from Yarle and Pamela Mohn, thanking the people who make public radio great every day and also those who listen. One of the fights Medgar and Murley had was over dinner guests because he was always bringing home people from the NAACP and sometimes celebrities like Lena Horne and she was expected to cook an extra dinner for them. She said, we do not have the money for this. We're struggling. He accused her of not knowing how to manage the money well, which just infuriated her because she was very, very careful with money.

Is this the time that they actually came to blows? Absolutely. This is one of the most striking and volatile parts of their marriage. So at one point, she says to him, we're poor. We don't have the money to do this. And he accused her of not managing the money well. And she got so angry that she hauled off and she grabbed a fry pan and hit him with it.

And he struck her back. And she was so shocked at this slap that it kind of made both of them stunned into silence. And this was the low point of their marriage. They wound up driving to her aunt and her mom's house. They were at that point living together because her grandma was getting older. And they were talking about divorcing. And they were at the point where they thought maybe we can't do this. And it was a member of the senior NAACP leadership who was like a father to them, who actually counseled them as like a marriage counselor and surrogate father. And so there was a point at which

they just decided they were going to try to make it work. And she decided she was going to try to make it work and support his work. And that came at the very, very end, really not long before he died. The final year of his life was when she finally accepted that this was his mission. One day or night, I forget which it was, when Medgar was working, Murley was at home with the children and the house was fire bombed. A Molotov cocktail was thrown through the window. She was pregnant at the time. How did she respond when she realized what was happening and the house started to catch on

fire? Well, Merle, you know, is starting to doze off. she hears this crash and goes out and sees fire on her front lawn. Obviously, she's incredibly startled. And there had been these cars that would pass by slowly rolling in front of the house day after day after day. And this time someone had thrown a Molotov cocktail out of one of them. So at first, of course, she was terrified. Her next-door neighbor, who was a good friend of hers, Jean Wells, runs out and the two of them start turning the fire hose on the flames and they put them out. Luckily, the children didn't even wake up. But it really did bring home to her that the death threats were really coming to roost.

And this was just weeks before Medgar was actually assassinated. So it was a horrible premonition. But then she felt angry because when the police arrived, the white police officers, they questioned her, looking at the gas can and essentially accusing her of doing it as a publicity stunt and faking it and then writing it off as just a joke that somebody had played. There was no empathy. There was clearly no determination to investigate. And it just brought home to her once again that there was no justice for black people in Mississippi. Danielle Pletka When President Kennedy gave his speech asking Congress to enact what basically became the Civil Rights Act of 1964 after Kennedy's assassination.

So when Kennedy gave this speech, asking Congress to enact legislation giving all Americans the right to be served in facilities that were open to the public and to seek greater protection for the right to vote and more fully enforce the Supreme Court's ruling to desegregate the schools, that just like flared up racist attacks in the South. And so it was a win for Medgar Evers and the movement, but it also increased the threats, right? Absolutely. And, you know, the Klan absolutely sent a message in assassinating Medgar Evers literally hours after that speech. The thing that President Kennedy said that I think stung the racist South the most is that he said not only did he believe that black citizens had the right to equal treatment and to equal access to accommodations, but that he planned to make

it so with legislation. He promised to pass a bill. Now, Medgar had actually been preparing his testimony to go to Washington to testify before the House Judiciary Committee about pushing for such a bill. Part of the work that he was doing and part of the constant telegrams to DC were demanding that they do something. And one of the things they wanted done was a bill. And so, you know, the message that was sent in the hours after that speech was that we're going to exact retribution. And there were actually three attacks that took place, or at least one that did not come to fruition. But they did them so close in time that the FBI believed that these multiple attacks were a message from the Klan, including the assassination of Medgar Evers.

The assassination happened one night while Murley and the children were home. They were in bed. She was expecting her husband. She hears this loud gunshot. She, you know, she recognizes this is trouble, you know, runs to the door and finds her husband's body at the threshold of the door. And he's bleeding and it looks like he's bleeding out, which he was. Tell us more about what you know about that night. Well, you know, the children were, they got to stay up, you know, the three average children. Well, Van was a baby, he was only three, but the two older children were allowed to sit up and watch President Kennedy's speech. And they were so proud to hear the speech because it used and echoed some of the language

that their own dad had given in his landmark speech that he gave on Mississippi television, which had never happened. People had never seen a black person, you know, speak on television before. And to hear President Kennedy echoing their father's words felt so great to them. And so they were excited and they were allowed then to stay up a little later, the older two, who were nine and eight, to watch a little bit more TV, a little bit of entertainment TV before their dad came home. And a little after midnight, they hear their father's car pull up, and they're excited because he would normally bring them home sweets or Cracker Jacks, you know, something, a little gift when he would come home.

And so they were excited thinking, oh, what's he going to bring us? And all of a sudden they heard the shot. And it wakes Merly up, who had been lying down on her bed. They were all in her room watching TV. And she was holding Van and he had all, she had started to doze off. It startles her awake and all of the family kind of go to the door. Now, at first the kids did what they were trained to do. They went to the floor. They did what their father had taught them. But when they hear their mother scream as she makes it to the door

and sees her husband lying in the carport, this horrifying scream makes all the children run to her. And so they're all standing there watching him try to drag himself in this tremendous pool of blood that's later described as if somebody had butchered a hog. And he's got his key out in his hand, and he's trying to get to the door, but he can't. And she's got her little children standing there screaming, you know, begging him to get up.

And then they heard a second shot, which they thought might be the gunman coming to kill them all. But it turns out that was Mr. Wells, the next-door neighbor, shooting in the air to scare the gunman away. And Mr. Wells and their neighbor across the street, whose husband was Murley's other best friend, they come with another neighbor and they put Medgar on the mattress of Rena, the little girl's bed, and they put him on that mattress and take him to the hospital. And Merle never saw or spoke with him again until she saw him in a casket. AMT.

There was a really large funeral procession after he died. And there was nearly a police riot because there were so many people. Would you describe that? You know, it was a tremendous outpouring. You know, some 5,000 people came and they packed into the auditorium, the space where they usually did their mass meetings, but it was over capacity. It was blazing hot, almost 100 degrees in Mississippi. And people were outside who couldn't get in. And then afterward, they

had gotten permission, the organizers of the funeral, to do a peaceful march with him because his body was going to be taken to a train station so that it could be sent to Washington, D.C., so he could be buried at Arlington National Cemetery, something that also caused lots of rage among white supremacists in the United States. But this peaceful procession quickly turned violent when some of the young people who were marching at the back began to sing freedom songs. Danielle Pletka They were prohibited from singing at this funeral procession. Danielle Pletka Absolutely. They were told they could only do a quiet, mournful march and they were not to sing freedom songs at all. But these young people started singing

This Little Light of Mine, and it was Medgar's favorite freedom song. And once that started, the batons started flying and the police reacted violently and started beating marchers who then started running toward downtown Jackson. And before long, it was nearly a riot. Joy Reid speaking with Terry Gross last year. Her book about Medgar and Merle

Evers is called Medgar and Merle. More after a break, this is Fresh Air. You have a whole chapter called the rules for a civil rights widow. What were the quote rules she had to learn or play by or create? Because she was like the first famous civil rights widow. Right. So, Merle Evers, you know, had to write this playbook for herself because Medgar Evers was assassinated two years before Malcolm X and five years before Dr. King. So there really wasn't another person that she could, you know, use as a template. The only thing closest to it was Mamie Till Mowgli, but Mamie Till was a mom, not a widow. And, you know, she also wanted to ensure that she

was able to establish Medgar's legacy. And so anything you did, if you weren't dressed in certain way, if you weren't properly demure, if you seemed angry rather than just in grieving, if you seemed too loud or too soft or too anything, you know, but especially too angry, she knew that it would derail what she genuinely believed that Megger deserved, which is to have his legacy established for the sacrifice that he had made. AMT. NIEPORENTURA She both became famous, you know, very quickly of the assassination and also very depressed. It's a difficult combination to deal with,

depression and fame at the same time. And she's, of course, in mourning. Absolutely. And, you know, living in that house made it worse, right? Because, you know, that house had been designed for security. It's the only house on this block that used to be called Guyin Street at the time. And it was designed with no front door, specifically for security. You had to come in the side door so that they could see who was coming. And so she already lived with this constant threat, this fear of threat. And then it happened. The thing they had feared the most happened. And she had to deal with that publicly because she's now a public figure.

You know, she'd walk out her front door and Dan Rather would be standing there with old CBS Group wanting to interview her. They were constantly in her house, in and out of her house. She had a Life magazine photographer following her all around as she's preparing to bury her husband. She couldn't bury him in the small plot that they had bought in Mississippi. a Life magazine photographer following her all around as she's preparing to bury her husband. She couldn't bury him in the small plot that they had bought in Mississippi. It had to be done in D.C. so he'd be this sort of publicly buried person where she couldn't just go and sit with him. And it was painful for her. And she some days didn't want to

get out of bed. She was using sleeping pills to try to get to sleep at night. And she was just lost in this sea of anger and rage and depression. And there were moments when she couldn't get out of it. But she does kind of overcome the depression. She becomes an activist. She becomes an in-demand public speaker. Eventually, she becomes the board chair of the NAACP. And she gets a lot of accolades.

She's like Woman of the Year in Ms. Magazine in 1998, one of the 100 most fascinating black women of the 20th century in Ebony in 1998. What came first for you? Wanting to write a book about the Evers or meeting Murly Evers and deciding I should write a book? Meeting Murly Evers. Murly Evers Williams now. She did fall in love again, but Medgar Evers was clearly the love of her life. And that's what she told me that actually was the impetus for this book. The profundity of that love, the intensity of it, even 60 years later, is actually kind of mind-blowing when you talk to her. And I thought that was worthy of writing more about. And I also do feel that Medgar Evers is given short shrift in our historical memory. This was a great man.

This was an incredibly brave man. And we live in an age of so much cowardice as people refuse to stand up for our democracy in even small ways because they're afraid of a tweet, you know, a mean tweet. And these people were facing the Klan, a statewide spy agency, and the constant threat of being destitute. And they did it. And they were 20-somethings and 30-somethings who had this incredible courage. And so I wanted to write a book about love and about courage, and hopefully that's what I did. Joy Reid, it's been great to talk with you. Congratulations on your new book,

and thank you so much for coming to Fresh Air. Thank you for having me. Joy Reid spoke with Terry Gross last year. The former MSNBC host's book is called Medgar and Merle, Medgar Evers and the Love Story that Awakened America. It's now out in paperback. There's a little light on mine

I'm gonna let it shine There's a little light on mine I'm gonna let it shine There's a little light on mine I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine Everywhere I go I'm gonna let it shine Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine This little light of mine I'm gonna let it shine

Oh, this little light of mine I'm gonna let it shine, baby, this little light of mine. I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine. I've got the light of peace and love. Coming up, Justin Chang reviews a new supernatural thriller from director Ryan Coogler. This is Fresh Air. Our film critic, Justin Chang, says the new supernatural thriller Sinners is one of the more interesting and audacious movies to emerge from a major studio so far this year. It's the latest collaboration between director Ryan Coogler and actor Michael B. Jordan,

who worked together previously in Fruitvale Station, Black Panther, and Creed. Sinners also features Hailee Steinfeld, Delroy Lindo, and Jack O'Connell, and opens in theaters today. Here is Justin's review. You can be a fan of Creed and Black Panther, I certainly am, and still feel a sense of relief that the director, Ryan Coogler, has left franchise filmmaking behind, at least for now. With those earlier movies, Coogler brought a distinctly personal touch to familiar genre material.

His latest effort, Sinners, is a genre movie too, with some pulpy narrative beats you'll recognize. But it's also his first original script in ages, and it feels wicked and sexy and darkly entrancing in ways that he hasn't been able to fully embrace until now. Sinners is set in 1930s Mississippi, and it's awash in gorgeous music, turbulent romance, Pan-African spiritualism, and by the end, buckets of blood. It's an awful lot of movie, and it makes most of the year's other studio releases so far look anemic by comparison. Sinners also finds Coogler reuniting with Michael B. Jordan, whom he's worked with consistently since their 2013 drama Fruitvale

Station. They double down on their collaboration here, quite literally. Jordan plays twin brothers, named Smoke and Stack, who are notorious fixtures of Chicago's criminal underworld. It's 1932, and they've just returned to their hometown of Clarksdale, Mississippi. As one of them wryly suggests, the North isn't all that much less racist than the South. Smoke and Stack plan to open a juke joint, where other black men and women can drink, dance, and gamble the night away. Coogler spends roughly the first half of the film fleshing out this world and its characters, and showing us the tremendous group effort it takes to launch a business.

Miles Katen is a standout as the twins' cousin Sammy, a gifted blues musician who's recruited to perform. He's thrown together with Delta Slim, a harmonica and piano virtuoso played by a delightfully irascible Delroy Lindo. And Wunmi Musaku is wonderful as Annie, a local medicine woman whom Smoke loved but abandoned years earlier. After some verbal sparring and reconciliatory sex, she agrees to cook for the grand opening. Sinners is so atmospheric, richly textured and gorgeous to watch, see it in IMAX if you can, that it's almost a disappointment when it veers into supernatural

territory. But if the horror beats prove a touch derivative, Kugler builds suspense with shivery assurance, and he waits until just the right moment, the juke joint's grand opening, for all hell to break loose. In this scene, Annie realizes that the bouncer, played by Omar Benson Miller, is acting strangely. He's standing right outside the door, and won't enter unless someone invites him in. She recognizes this as a classic tenet of vampire lore. What y'all doing? Just step aside and let me on in now. Why you need him to do that? You being strong enough to push past us?

Well, that wouldn't be too polite now, would it, Miss Annie? I don't know why I'm talking to you anyway. Don't talk to him. You're talking to me right now. Why you can't just walk your big ass up in here without an invite, huh? Go ahead. Admit to it. Admit to what?

That you dead. Smoke, you listening to this? Now we out here playing games, telling ghost stories, in place of doing what we ought to do. And what is it we supposed to be doing? Being kind to one another. And being polite. Coogler is clearly paying homage here to the legendary horror filmmaker George Romero, Hoogler is clearly paying homage here to the legendary horror filmmaker George Romero, not only in his exuberant B-movie splatter, but also in the way he gives the action a sharp sociopolitical edge. Even before the carnage begins, the director is clearly fascinated by the racial dynamics

of the period. Li Zhenli and Yao play a couple who own a grocery store, one of many such Chinese-run businesses that served black communities in the segregated South. Haley Steinfeld turns up as Stacks' former flame, and although sparks soon reignite, the movie harbors zero sentimental allusions about how their ill-fated interracial romance will play out. The entire film can be read as a grimly fantastical parable of Black survival. At one point, someone wonders if vampirism might actually be preferable to white supremacy.

It's not a facetious question, and Smoke and Stack themselves might disagree on the answer. They're fairly similar as twins go, but Michael B. Jordan subtly captures their crucial difference in temperament and worldview. Stack is the gentler, more trusting one, while Smoke is far wearier and more guarded. How they both choose to confront evil will change and define them forever. I've forgotten to mention that, on top of all that, Sinners is practically a full-blown musical, with a hypnotic blues-heavy score by Ludwig Göransson and a blunt yet potent message about the spiritual power of song. Early on in the juke-joint, the characters give themselves over to the

ecstasy of Sammy's music, and Coogler follows suit with an imaginative, dream-like sequence that bridges eras and continents, placing the West African dancers of the ancient past on a continuum with the hip-hop artists of the future. Music, Kugler reminds us, can collapse boundaries between time and space. So, it turns out, can some movies. Justin Chang is a film critic for The New Yorker. He reviewed Sinners, the new thriller starring Michael B. Jordan. On Monday's show, actor Noah Wiley of the popular TV series The Pit about drama and chaos in a Pittsburgh hospital emergency room. The show has earned a following among ER doctors

for the accuracy of its portrayals of emergency medicine. Wiley plays a veteran doctor plagued by PTSD from the early days of COVID. I hope you can join us. To keep up with what's on the show and get highlights of our interviews, follow us on Instagram at NPR Fresh Air. Fresh Air's executive producer is Danny Miller. Sam Breger is our managing producer.

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