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Bud Kennedy

When a Texas school hung effigies to scare Black teens away, Davis led us all forward | Opinion

If Fort Worth had a Mount Rushmore, you can guess who’d be there. I’d say Amon Carter, Van Cliburn, Ben Hogan and Sid Richardson.

But I also could make an argument for this version: basketball-star-turned-business-leader James I. Cash, Judge Clifford Davis, banker “Gooseneck Bill” McDonald and Opal Lee.

Until Lee’s heroic late-in-life stardom as the “Grandmother of Juneteenth,” Davis was the city’s best-known civil rights champion. He is the courtroom leader who brought freedom and equality to all Fort Worth, and then mentored dozens of young lawyers to follow him.

The news stories about his passing last week at 100 talked about his career as a trusted lawyer, district judge and model of true justice in the legal community.

But the stories didn’t talk about the effigies.

In 1956, a white mob rioted in Mansfield and hung three effigies — one on Main Street and two at the high school — to scare Black students away.

Judge L. Clifford Davis shares a smile with the crowd gathered in his honor on August 18, 2002 during the dedication ceremony of the new L. Clifford Davis Elementary School in Fort Worth.
Judge L. Clifford Davis shares a smile with the crowd gathered in his honor on August 18, 2002 during the dedication ceremony of the new L. Clifford Davis Elementary School in Fort Worth. Jill Johnson Star-Telegram archives

An Episcopal priest got shoved.

A Tarrant County prosecutor got roughed up.

The segregationist mob took and smashed the gear of a camera operator for a national news service.

Davis was the lawyer for Black students Charles and Floyd Moody and Nathaniel Jackson. They had won their constitutional right in court to go to school in Mansfield instead of riding a Trailways bus every day to downtown Fort Worth.

Davis told them not to confront the armed mob.

He won in the long run. But it took years.

An effigy, the second at the school, was left hanging from the roof over the door of Mansfield High School Aug. 31, 1956. It hung there for days and only white students enrolled during a school desegregation incident.
An effigy, the second at the school, was left hanging from the roof over the door of Mansfield High School Aug. 31, 1956. It hung there for days and only white students enrolled during a school desegregation incident. Fort Worth Star-Telegram Collection UT Arlington Special Collections

“They put the effigy figure on the flagpole ... We were not going to go up there on that campus,” Davis said in a 2019 Star-Telegram interview.

Actually, there were three effigies.

One was dangled by a noose over Main Street downtown with a sign reading, “This negro tried to enter white School. This Would be a Horrible way to Die.”

Another effigy was hung from the school flagpole, and another from the roof over the door.

Principal Willie Pigg and Superintendent R.L. Huffman said to leave them up. Texas Rangers calmed the mob but ignored the effigies.

Rev. D.W. Clark of St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church is escorted away from the mob at Mansfield High School after he was shoved Sept. 4, 1956, during the Mansfield school desegregation incident. Texas Ranger E.J. Banks of Dallas is escorting Clark.
Rev. D.W. Clark of St. Timothy’s Episcopal Church is escorted away from the mob at Mansfield High School after he was shoved Sept. 4, 1956, during the Mansfield school desegregation incident. Texas Ranger E.J. Banks of Dallas is escorting Clark. Wilburn Davis/Fort Worth Star-Telegram Collection UT Arlington Special Collections

Accounts dispute whether the effigies were meant to represent Davis or the Moodys, sons of the Mansfield NAACP leader.

But in 1999, when Star-Telegram columnist Bob Ray Sanders interviewed one of the participants, the man said he and a city official’s son hung the effigy on the flagpole. He called it a prank.

In 1956, the man was 36. His own 14-year-old son wanted to hang an effigy too, so the boy made another one and hung it over the school door.

Boys stand near a tree looking at an effigy, the first of two hung at Mansfield High School as only white students enrolled during a 1956 desegregation incident.
Boys stand near a tree looking at an effigy, the first of two hung at Mansfield High School as only white students enrolled during a 1956 desegregation incident. Fort Worth Star-Telegram Collection UT Arlington Special Collections

For Davis’ 100th birthday, U.S. Rep. Marc Veasey told the House how Davis grew up in small-town Arkansas and was accepted to the University of Arkansas law school but didn’t go.

He was told he had to pay cash up front because he was Black. So he went to Howard.

“He integrated the Mansfield Independent School District,” Veasey said in the House. “Judge Davis received threats. They hung an effigy of his image up in the school ... He received so much hate mail and threatening mail.”

Students Gracie Smith, Hattie Neal, Floyd Moody, John Hicks and Charles Moody were not allowed to enroll at Mansfield High School during the 1956 desegregation incident.
Students Gracie Smith, Hattie Neal, Floyd Moody, John Hicks and Charles Moody were not allowed to enroll at Mansfield High School during the 1956 desegregation incident. Fort Worth Star-Telegram Collection UT Arlington Special Collections

Veasey thanked Davis “for the risks he and his family took to help make this country better.”

Davis’ interviews in ensuing years have been consistently modest and optimistic.

He later filed a lawsuit and led the effort to desegregate the Fort Worth schools. It took years, but Davis was consistently complimentary of school officials.

“Let me say this: We did not have the resistance in Fort Worth that many other Southern communities experienced,” Davis said in a 2014 interview.

“There were people of good will in Fort Worth that would respond to our efforts to bring about fair play and opportunity.”

Davis said in a 2014 oral history interview that his only regret is that “we have been unable to get the masses of white people to understand that [civil rights] impacts them, too. ... All of us need to be working for the mutual benefit of all of us.”

Even when a Fort Worth elementary school was named for him and he was credited with desegregating the schools, Davis shied back.

“I don’t claim to be solely responsible for all this,” he said in a 2024 WFAA interview. “I helped bring these changes.”

He bravely led us toward a better Fort Worth.

Gordon Yoder, a Dallas camera operator for a national news service, aims his camera at Tarrant County assistant district attorney Grady Hight as angry Mansfield men surround them Aug. 31, 1956, during the Mansfield school desegregation incident. Seconds later, Yoder’s camera was smashed as he was roughed up.
Gordon Yoder, a Dallas camera operator for a national news service, aims his camera at Tarrant County assistant district attorney Grady Hight as angry Mansfield men surround them Aug. 31, 1956, during the Mansfield school desegregation incident. Seconds later, Yoder’s camera was smashed as he was roughed up. Bob Bain/Fort Worth Star-Telegram Collection UT Arlington Special Collections
Boys stand near a tree looking at an effigy, the first of two hung at Mansfield High School as only white students enrolled during a 1956 desegregation incident.
Boys stand near a tree looking at an effigy, the first of two hung at Mansfield High School as only white students enrolled during a 1956 desegregation incident. Fort Worth Star-Telegram Collection UT Arlington Special Collections

This story was originally published February 21, 2025 at 5:34 AM.

Bud Kennedy
Opinion Contributor,
Fort Worth Star-Telegram
Bud Kennedy is a Fort Worth Star-Telegram opinion columnist. In a 54-year Texas newspaper career, he has covered two Super Bowls, a presidential inauguration, seven national political conventions and 19 Texas Legislature sessions.. Support my work with a digital subscription
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