The Death of Louis Allen

Louis Allen was a proud man. He was also WWII veteran, a logger, and a landowner, something not many African Americans could say in Liberty, Mississippi in the early 1960s.

Death of Louis Allen

Louis Allen. Image via Wikipedia.

He was getting ready to leave Liberty soon, though. He had a lead on a job as a bulldozer operator in Milwaukee and he and his oldest son were planning to leave for Wisconsin on February 2, 1964. His wife, Elizabeth, and their other two children would stay with Elizabeth’s sister in Baton Rogue until things were settled in their new home. The move would be a welcome change for the family, not just because of the new career. Louis had experienced a lot of harassment over the past few years and they were eager for a fresh start.

Around 7:00 on the night of January 31, 1964, Louis went out to the home of a former employer to get a letter of recommendation while Elizabeth stayed home with their three-year-old daughter. Middle son, Henry, was out with his cousin.

Louis arrived at his former employer’s home and waited while the letter was written. After getting the letter and thanking him, Louis got back in his truck and headed home.

At 8:30, Elizabeth settled in to watch one of her favorite television programs. She would later recall this is when she heard something that sounded like gunshots. She didn’t go out to see what the commotion was about, though. Louis wasn’t home yet but he told her he wouldn’t be back until around 8:30 so she wasn’t concerned yet.

Henry and his cousin, John Horton, came home around 12:30 that morning, four hours after the shots were heard, and found Louis’ logging truck blocking the driveway. Henry called for his dad but got no response so he got out of the vehicle and walked to the drivers-side of the truck to move it. He stepped on his father’s hand.

Louis was lying in the driveway, underneath his truck, his head behind the front, drivers-side wheel. The truck’s lights were still on but the battery was almost dead.

Henry ran inside to tell his mother and called the police.

One source says that the boys drove straight to the home of Sheriff Daniel Jones to report the death, but soon you’ll see why that seems unlikely.

Regardless, Sheriff Jones and Dr. William Bridges arrived on the scene. They pronounced Louis dead almost immediately. It was obvious to the men that Louis had been killed by two loads of buckshot. The tire near his head was flat, presumably punctured by the same shots that killed him. Sheriff Jones stayed on the scene all night, securing the crime scene and questioning Elizabeth. When the sun came up, he performed a search of the crime scene and dusted the truck for fingerprints. No unmatched prints, shotgun shells, or other physical evidence was found.

Investigators wanted to know if Louis mentioned feeling threatened recently. His wife and sons said no, there had been no indication that he felt he was in physical danger.

They hit a dead end but they said they’d keep investigating.

54 years later, Louis Allen’s death is still a cold case.

The night of his murder wasn’t the first time Louis had been in the middle of a police investigation and it wasn’t the first time Sheriff Jones came into contact with Louis.

On September 30, 1961, two and a half years before his death, Louis witnessed the murder of Herbert Lee. Lee, a voting rights activist, was trying to register voters in Liberty, MS when he was killed by state representative E.H. Hurst, a staunch segregationist. Even before Lee’s murder, it was known among Civil Rights activists that Liberty, MS was not a safe place to do this kind of work.

Hurst and Sheriff Jones began harassing Louis and other witnesses, pressuring them to testify that Hurst had acted in self-defense. The FBI file states that Louis told the truth in his official statement (that Lee was shot without provocation) but Julian Bond, a Civil Rights activist and friend of Louis’, stated that he lied and told the FBI that Hurst acted in self-defense. It seems as though Louis initially planned on stating that Hurst acted in self-defense for fear that his life would be in danger if he told the truth, but decided to state the truth in the end.

Eventually, the case went to trial and the all-white jury found Hurst innocent, stating that he acted in self-defense.

When Sheriff Jones learned about Louis’ statement to the FBI, he began a campaign of harassment. On June 30, 1962, Jones arrested Louis for “interfering with the law.” Louis’ jaw was broken in two places during the arrest. The following month, Louis would give an affidavit to the Justice Department, describing the attack and arrest. An African-American man lodging a complaint against a white deputy was unheard of in 1960s Mississippi and took an unbelievable amount of courage.

In the end, the case was thrown out.

In August of the same year, Louis and two other black men attempted to register to vote in Amite County. Jones turned them away.

After his death, it would be reported that Louis had been involved in voter registration activities that may have resulted in his death. His wife, sons, and acquaintances denied that he had ever been involved in such activities. The FBI files on the case state that there had been no voter registration activities in the entire county since 1961.

Regardless, February of 1963 brought tragedy on an even bigger scale. Leo McKnight, his wife, pregnant daughter, and son-in-law died in a house fire. McKnight had previously worked for Louis Allen and some said that Jones had warned McKnight to stay away from Louis. While Jones was never irrefutably linked to the fire, many suspect it was part of his vendetta against Louis (although I will say that I don’t think burning down the house of a former employee and murdering four people is the way that most people would exact revenge on someone.)

At this point, I feel it’s relevant to tell you that in a 1964 letter from Amite County resident J.D. Smith to friends, he states that Sheriff Jones’ father is the head of the county’s chapter of the KKK. (The CBS article linked above corroborates this.) Predictably this information was not present in the FBI file on the case. He also states that klan activity in Amite County is “more lunatic than usual” and the chapter is part of a “radical split from the United Klans.” This branch of the klan was more violent, “an offspring of the old White Caps of the Reconstruction period, and operate as an old fashioned kill, kill, kill terrorist organization.”

In his letter, Smith also states that there have been seven unsolved killings of “Negroes” in Amite and surrounding counties since Louis Allen’s death earlier the same year.

Klansman in Pike County, MS

United Klans of America Imperial Wizard Robert Shelton speaking before a crowd in Pike County, MS, next to Amite County, in May 1964. Image via Jackson Free Press.

Back to Louis’ timeline: in September 1963, over a year after his arrest for “interfering with the law”, Louis testified before a federal grand jury about the arrest that resulted in his broken jaw. The jury declined to indict Sheriff Jones.

Two months later, in November of 1963, Sheriff Jones arrested Louis on charges of a bouncing a check and carrying a concealed weapon. He was told he’d serve 3-5 years for the charges but after three weeks, he was released on an $800 bond, paid for by the NAACP.

And just two months after that, Louis was gunned down in his driveway.

In the 2011 CBS interview, Hank Allen remembered the night his father died, stating, “He [Sheriff Jones] told my mom that if Louis had just shut his mouth, that he wouldn’t be layin’ there on the ground. He wouldn’t be dead.”

Louis Allen’s death is one of 100 Civil Rights-era cold cases that have been reopened by the Department of Justice.

No arrests have ever been made and as far as I can tell, no persons of interest have officially been identified. People in Amite County have their suspicions, though. As I do and I’m sure anyone reading this does. The Allen family is still offering a $20,000 reward for information regarding Louis’ death and in 2010, the case was put on the FBI’s Cold Case list. His grandson, Louis Allen Jr., has stated that the family believes the killer is still alive and that more than one person may have been involved.

Although it may seem like a 54-year-old case has no hope of being solved, it does happen. As a result of the DOJ opening these cases back up, other cold cases have been solved, including the 1964 kidnapping and murder of teenagers Henry Hezekiah Dee and Charles Eddie Moore. Their killer, James Ford Seale, was given two life sentences.

As of 2011, Sheriff Daniel Jones was still alive and living in Liberty, unwilling to talk about the case.

If you have any information regarding the death of Louis Allen, you can submit an anonymous tip online.


Northeastern University School of Law
FBI File on the Death of Louis Allen
Mississippi Cold Case: Louis Allen
J.D. Smith letter
Cold Case: The Murder of Louis Allen
60 Minutes clip on Louis Allen’s story
Civil Rights Era Murders Joint Initiative Yields Results
Violent Summer: When Klansmen and Tyranny Stalked Mississippi: ‘I’ll Shoot You In Two” from Jackson Free Press

Can You Pass the Acid Test?

1964. It’s the middle of what is looked back on as being, arguably, America’s most turbulent decade (at least the most turbulent right behind the 1860s).The Civil Rights Movement is underway, the war in Vietnam is escalating, and, with that, the anti-war movement is growing. The strict social mores of the 1950s are falling away but the counterculture of the late 60s has not yet arrived.

It’s kind of a weird time. But things can always get weirder.

Enter: Ken Kesey.

Ken Kesey

Well actually, by 1964, Kesey was already a well-known author, having published the wildly successful One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest in 1962. The book was inspired by Kesey’s time working in the mental health ward of a Menlo Park, CA hospital, where he witnessed patients being treated with LSD. Kesey volunteered for MKUltra, the CIA experiment in which subjects took hallucinogens like LSD and mescaline, and then began using LSD, which wasn’t illegal in the US until late 1966, recreationally.

Ken Kesey's Magic Bus

Further bus. Photo via CNN.

Sometime in 1964, Kesey purchased a 1939 International Harvester school bus. He and The Merry Pranksters, a group of like-minded creatives and early hippies, including writer Neal Cassady, painted the bus in Day-Glo colors, named it “Furthur”, and took it on an acid-fueled cross-country trip. (It’s worth noting that they picked up Allen Ginsberg in New York.) That’s the most abbreviated version of that story ever told and to be honest, it feels wrong to shorten it so much. The trip was immortalized in one of my favorite books, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test by Tom Wolfe and footage shot on the trip was finally turned into a documentary a few years ago. Both are fascinating and I highly recommend checking them out!

After completing their journey and returning to California, Kesey and his wife bought a home in La Honda, California, outside of San Francisco. Nestled in the mountains of northern California, Kesey painted the trees in the woods outside his home in Day-Glo colors and hid speakers around the forest. The Keseys began throwing parties where guests would take acid, sometimes unknowingly (not cool!), and wander through the woods, trying to survive the night as music emanated from the speakers. It was a wild ride.

While this sounds like an absolute nightmare to me, and some attendees would have agreed, the parties became popular. Even unexpected guests like the Hells Angels, whom Kesey met via Hunter S. Thompson, made appearances. Eventually, they became so popular that Kesey wanted a bigger venue. His home wasn’t cutting it anymore.

Before we go on, I want to make it clear that while Kesey undoubtedly turned quite a few people on to acid, he didn’t introduce it to California by any stretch of the imagination. It had been popular in fringe groups in the Bay Area since the early 60s and manufacturers like Owsley Stanley helped bring it more mainstream. (But not totally mainstream, it was still on the periphery of society.)

Cut to Thanksgiving 1965. Really, the day after Thanksgiving. The date of the first official Acid Test.

It was held in a ranch house called The Spread, home of Merry Prankster Ken Babbs. The event was “semi-public” and launched weekly Acid Tests as well as the career of a band called The Warlocks.

The Warlocks, later known as The Grateful Dead

The Warlocks, November 1965. Photo via

They later changed their name to The Grateful Dead. You may have heard of them.

Since the Test was held at Babbs’ house and the crowd was small, it was pretty similar to the parties Kesey had been having. The Pranksters were great at throwing parties, but not so great at marketing and event planning. They didn’t hire an event hall in time and their advertising was lackluster. In The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, Tom Wolfe wrote, “About all the advertising they could do was confined to the day of the Test itself. Norman Hartweg had painted a sign on some cardboard and tacked it onto some boards Babbs had used as cue signs in the movie and put it up in the Hip Pocket Bookstore. Can YOU Pass the Acid Test?”

Acid Test Flyer

Flyer advertising the first Acid Test at Babbs’. Photo via Postertrip.

At the Test, movies were projected onto the walls of Babbs’ house (where Day-Glo “decorations” were painted) and the Pranksters provided the LSD and the music, although Jerry Garcia and members of what would become the Dead were there. Eight hours in, Kesey and Allen Ginsberg were debating about the war in Vietnam. And it was magical.

But it wasn’t what they envisioned.

The second Test would take place the following week on December 4, 1965. They were a bit more organized and Kesey managed to secure a venue in San Jose: the home of a “boho figure” known as “Big Nig.” (I know, I know.) They even advertised! Some flyers were drawn up with “CAN YOU PASS THE ACID TEST?” on them and tacked to trees and light poles outside of the San Jose Civic Auditorium. The Rolling Stones were playing there that night. The idea was that after the concert, people would come to the Acid Test and bring some of the energy from the concert with them.

The night was chaotic and electric. One of Jerry Garcia’s biographers, Sandy Try, went so far as to call it a “watershed moment” for the counterculture. Tom Wolfe wrote,

“They come piling into Big Nig’s, and suddenly acid and the worldcraze were everywhere, the electric organ vibrating through every belly in the place, kids dancing not rock dances, not the frug and the –what? –swim, mother, but dancing ecstacy, leaping, dervishing, throwing their hands over their heads like Daddy Grace’s own stroked-out inner-courtiers–yes!”

According to Paul Perry, author of On the Bus, 300-400 people were crammed into Big Nig’s house that night.

The Grateful Dead, who had changed their name by this time, blew six fuses in the house, undoubtedly adding to the atmosphere. (Big Nig asked for “rent” to pay for the blown fuses.) The Dead liked playing the Acid Tests because they didn’t have a setlist and they didn’t have to play “beer drinker music” (jazz). As Tom Wolfe put it, “For Kesey–they could just play.” Jerry Garcia would later say, “When we fell in with the acid tests we a started having the most fun we had ever had.”

The next week, on December 11, 1965, they did it again, just up the coast in Muir Beach, California. The Tests were held on Mondays because, according to Wavy Gravy, Monday was everyone’s day off.

I love that because it’s the same reason you or I would have to get together with friends and have a few drinks or veg out. But unlike the cost of a drink today, people could pay around $1 to get stoned and hear The Grateful Dead. (And when you or I get together with friends, it’s certainly not a watershed moment.)

Acid Test Poster

Handbill advertising the third Acid Test in Muir Beach. The designs on the acid test posters and handbills were at the forefront of counterculture design. Photo via Postertrip.

The Muir Beach Test was special because that night Owsley Stanley, known as the “Johnny Appleseed of LSD”, was in attendance. He spent most of the night pushing a chair across the linoleum floor, making a horrible screeching sound. Despite distributing LSD up and down the California coast, no one in attendance had ever seen him take it before.

In that lodge on Muir Beach, where around 300 heads gathered, footage of the Pranksters’ bus trip was being projected while a strobe light flashed and people danced to…sounds. Carolyn Garcia, a Prankster with the nickname “Mountain Girl” who would go on to marry Jerry Garcia, said it…

“was a strange night. The poor band couldn’t get anything going…The lighting was bad in there and the band would go up and play for about 5 minutes and then they’d sit down; That was all they could do. “C’mon guys. Why aren’t you playing?”… ‘I don’t know. Why do we have to play?’  It was pretty funny. So then the Pranksters would play, and that was perfectly dreadful.”

Still, everyone had a great time…except Kesey. He thought things were getting too weird. Too many people. Too many bad vibes. The Acid Tests were done, he said.

Of course, they weren’t.

They continued through 1966 and spread south to Los Angeles and north to Oregon and Canada. There were also two three-day festivals, known as Trips Festivals, celebrating all things psychedelia. Of course, festivities included an Acid Test. The first of these festivals, held in January 1966, took place at Longshoremen’s Hall in San Francisco and is credited with bringing The Grateful Dead to the masses. Kesey had recently been busted for pot and had a warrant out for his arrest so he couldn’t just show up to the festival. In order to disguise himself, he dressed in a space suit, complete with helmet. He sat in the balcony and addressed the crowd over the PA system. The cops knew it was him but no one could find him.

A true Prankster.

And it was in 1966 that the phrase “electric kool-aid” came into existence. At the Watts Acid Test, Wavy Gravy…well, let him tell you. In a 2004 interview, he said,

“Although [Wolfe] did maintain that I put the acid in the Kool-Aid at Watts — and I still have mothers hit me over the head with umbrellas for that one — I didn’t. In fact, I spent a good part of the evening saying the Kool-Aid on the right is for the children and the Kool-Aid on the left is the electric Kool-Aid. Get it? Nudge, nudge. My big falling out with the Pranksters is that I didn’t think people should take LSD unless they knew they were taking it.”

Electric Kool Aid

You can see a bucket of “electric kool-aid” in the center. Kesey liked the effect dry ice gave and began adding it as early as 1960. Photo via High Times.

If this was an audio format, I’d insert a record scratch right here because on October 6, 1966, LSD became illegal in California. It was time to graduate from the Acid Tests.

The graduation was planned for Halloween night. Word got out that Kesey was planning one last Acid Test and on October 20, he was arrested. He told reporters, “taking acid is not the thing that’s happening anymore.” Never fear, Kesey got out on bail and the graduation went on as scheduled. Around 200 people showed up, along with numerous reporters and TV crews. In a strangely sad turn of events, The Grateful Dead had already committed to another gig and couldn’t be there. The Anonymous Artists of America played instead. There was a commencement ceremony where Neal Cassady handed out diplomas to veterans of the Tests. In his address, he stated, “It [is] time to move on; this doesn’t mean to stop taking acid, but to do something besides get stoned and go to rock ‘n’ roll dances.”

In the late 60s, Kesey and his family moved to Oregon, where he remained for the rest of his life. He continued to write, mostly articles and short stories. He allegedly hated the movie iteration of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. He had a stroke in 1998 and died due to complications from surgery in 2001. He was 66.

In February 1968, Neal Cassady attended a wedding in Mexico. Sometime after the reception, he went for a walk alone. He was found in a coma near railroad tracks the next morning. He was taken to the hospital but died four days later. He was less than a week from his 42nd birthday. To this day, his cause of death is unknown.

The Grateful Dead went on to…well, become The Grateful Dead. They’re one of the biggest American bands of all time. Unfortunately, Jerry Garcia died of a heart attack in 1995. He was 53. His former wife, Carolyn Garcia AKA Mountain Girl, is 71 years old. She has written books on marijuana cultivation and, as the San Francisco Gate put it in 1997, “She never got off the bus.”

Speaking of the bus, Furthur went to Oregon with Kesey, where it fell into disrepair. In 1990, Kesey had another Furthur made, this time from a 1947 International Harvester. In 2014, Further 2, restored by his family, toured the country to mark the 50th anniversary of the original Further’s cross country trip.

Ken Kesey and the Furthur bus

Ken Kesey and the original Furthur. July 17, 2001. Photo via The Oregonian.

Ken Kesey was the cultural link between the 1950s and 1960s. His Acid Tests, although a simple enough concept, changed the burgeoning counterculture in San Francisco. Some might say he was instrumental in creating it. 

And, of course, those acid-fueled parties brought us The Grateful Dead. What a long, strange trip it’s been…

Sources not linked in post

The Acid Test Chronicles (containing excerpts from The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test, On the Bus, and Captain Trips.)
Acid Tests Turn 50: Wavy Gravy, Merry Prankster Ken Babbs Look Back by Jesse Jarnow
From Eternity to Here by Charles Perry
The Psychedelic 60s from University of Virginia Library
Unforgettable photos of psychedelia and debauchery from the golden age of LSD by Thomas Page

US History Books You Probably Haven’t Read Yet (But Should)

I think it’s no secret that I favor modern history…that’s the whole premise of this blog! If you’re into the 20th century, check out these books! This post contains affiliate links but I wholeheartedly recommend the books in this post.

Best US History Books

 Can’t Find My Way Home: America in the Great Stoned Age by Martin Torgoff
I came across this book years ago (actually, probably about a decade ago!) via a documentary series VH1 and The Sundance Channel produced called “The Drug Years.” It chronicled drug use in American history and its impact on our history. Martin Torgoff was a frequent commentator on the series and it was so fascinating to me, I ordered a copy of his book. It did not disappoint. If you’re at all interested in the ways that drugs have impacted our society, this book is for you.

One Summer: America, 1927 by Bill Bryson
It turns out that the summer of 1927 was kind of a big one for America. Lucky Lindy made his historic flight across the Atlantic, Sacco and Vanzetti were executed, Babe Ruth beat his own home run record, and President Coolidge tried to busy himself during the Roaring 20s. It’s a lot but it’s all very interesting and Bill Bryson is such a good writer that he had me, emphatically not a baseball fan, excitedly reading about the Yankees’ 1927 season.

1969: The Year Everything Changed by Rob Kirkpatrick
Like One Summer: America, this book takes a look at 1969 as a whole. It’s the year we reached the moon and the year the counterculture reached its zenith with Woodstock and died with the Manson murders. 1969 also saw the Chappaquiddick incident, Richard Nixon becoming president, and the truth about the My Lai massacre coming to light. There is a lot to unpack but it’s all fascinating and important.

An Anatomy of Addiction: Sigmund Freud, William Halsted, and the Miracle Drug Cocaine by Howard Markel
This is not strictly US history, as you probably guessed by Freud’s name in the title. But William Halsted was one of the founders of Johns Hopkins and instrumental in bringing sanitary surgical procedures to the US. If you’ve ever had surgery and not died of infection, you should thank Halsted. Like Freud, he experimented with cocaine’s medical usage, specifically its use as an anesthetic. Unfortunately, this led to a serious addiction. An Anatomy of Addiction chronicles the theories and experiments both men put forth and conducted, as well as their careers as a whole. It’s a fascinating and, at times, horrifying, look at 19th-century medical practice.

When Everything Changed: The Amazing Journey of American Women from 1960 to the Present by Gail Collins
Ok, maybe you have read this since it was in my “What I Read in August” post. If not, what are you waiting for? As I said in my previous post, it’s eye-opening and should make every woman thankful for the strides that have been made. (I must have eye-rolled a hundred times while reading this book, though. Women have heard every excuse in the book while being denied equal rights.)

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Bobbi Gibb: The First Woman to Run the Boston Marathon

In 1966, 24-year old Bobbi Gibb became the first woman to run the Boston Marathon…except women weren’t allowed to run it.


Bobbi crossing the finish line at the 1966 Boston Marathon. Photo via Yarrow Kraner and NYT.

She watched the 1964 Boston Marathon and was entranced. She told herself, “I’m going to run this race.” She began training almost immediately.

At the time, it was thought that running distances over 1.5 miles was potentially deadly to women. Still, she pushed herself to run a little further every day. Oh, and she had to train in nurse’s shoes since shoe companies didn’t make athletic shoes for women. After her two-year training period, Bobbi submitted her application to the race and it was only then that she learned that women were not allowed to compete. The director of the marathon told her that women were not physiologically able to run the 26.2 miles and the liability was just too great. Not taking no for answer, she took a week-long bus ride from San Diego to Massachusetts and ran the race in her brother’s Bermuda shorts, a swimsuit, and a hoodie (photo above, minus the hoodie). Since she didn’t have a bib and race number, she hid in the bushes near the starting line, waiting for the starting gun.

When the race began, her fellow runners almost immediately realized that she was a woman. Gibb, already anxious about being discovered, became even more afraid that she would be pulled out of the race or even arrested. The men running the marathon assured her that if anyone tried to keep her from running, they’d put a stop to it.

After 26.2 miles, she came in #290 out of 415 men.


Gibb after the 1966 Boston Marathon. Photo via Yarrow Kraner and NYT.

The next year, she ran again. This time other women joined her.

The next year, she ran again. Even more women joined her.

In 1972, six years after Bobbi’s first time running the marathon, the Boston Marathon began allowing women to participate. (The Amateur Athletics Union permitted women to participate in marathons in the fall of 1971, after that year’s Boston Marathon.)


Bobbi at the 2015 Boston Marathon. Photo via Yarrow Kraner and NYT.

Bobbi Gibb is now 75 years old. Since the 1960s, she has earned a pre-med degree and attended law school. She is a member of the MA state bar and has worked with the University of Massachusetts Medical Center studying neurodegenerative diseases.

She’s also an accomplished sculptor and painter, with her works on display in the National Art Museum of Sport in Indianapolis. She has also exhibited her art at many temporary exhibits in museums and has been commissioned to create a bronze sculpture to be placed on the Boston Marathon route.

And because all of that isn’t impressive enough, she’s also an environmentalist, author, and documentary film producer.

The Incredible Story of Bobbi Gibb, the First Woman to Run the Boston Marathon by Brigit Katz, NYT
History of the Boston Marathon, Boston Athletics Association