Chasing the Scream: The First and Last Days of the War on Drugs by Johann Hari Read Free Book Online Page A

determined to stop them.

    A few years later, the Ku Klux Klan was marching through Elkton, a town of fifteen thousand people in rural Maryland. The men in white hoods were at the front, with sixty supporters in train, chanting, “Hey hey! Ho ho! Niggers have got to go!” Antiracist campaigners who turned up to counterdemonstrate were jeering and hurling objects like batteries at them and yelling abuse, but the Klan kept on going. And in the middle of the march, there was a proud Klanswoman in her white hood—Leigh Maddox.
    She had been helping to plan their marches and their picnics and recruiting people in the street for a year now. Near her, in another neat white hood, was the head of this Klan chapter’s chief henchman, a man who had committed murder twenty years before and been let off when he pled insanity. Leigh continued marching, through a hail of batteries.
    Her bosses told her that women couldn’t infiltrate the Klan because it’s too dangerous. But she insisted. She explained that she believed they were burning crosses outside the homes of African Americans in Elkton and threatening violence against them, so the police need somebody in there. Eventually, because she insisted for so long, her bosses gave in. But for Leigh, it was doubly risky, because she was going home from the Klan rallies to her black boyfriend.
    Her undercover Klan name was Rosa Leigh. Women rarely turned up at Klan rallies alone, so she had to invent a boyfriend who was living far away and couldn’t be with her. She was forced to find something to talk to these people about, so she burrowed hard to find something good about them, or at least something she shared. One of the Klansmen knew a lot about plants, and she liked nature, so they discussed that. Another liked Coors Light—she isn’t much of a beer person, but she imagined that if she were . . . Yes, this was hard going.
    But she was gathering intelligence that was vital to the safety of black people in this town. One day, in broad daylight, two of the Klansmen were driving through Elkton when a black guy pulled up next to them at an intersection with a white girl next to him. Her comrades from the Klan grabbed a length of lead pipe, dragged him from the vehicle, and beat him close to death. Leigh was able to identify them from the witness reports, so they were taken off the streets. And this went on. She was able to tell the police which vehicles to stop on their way to the rally that would contain illegal guns, drugs, and who was driving under the influence. She was giving intelligence almost in real time.
    The Klan soon began to panic. Is there a snitch? How else could the police know this much? Which one of you motherfuckers is telling the cops everything?
    After one Klan meeting, the men asked “Rosa Leigh” to stay behind and accused her. Outright. Of being a cop. Leigh knew these were felons and psychopaths with a history of violence and killing. She felt sick. All she could do to have a chance of surviving was to lash out.
    “You are a bunch of goddamn motherfuckers,” she yelled. “I can’t believe that after all this time and all I’ve done for this organization you would dare question my loyalty . . . I’m beginning to think you guys are a bunch of losers. I don’t even know why I hang out with you.” They started to insist. We want to see your house. We need to see your grandparents. Leigh had to think fast. “You guys want to come down see my house? Seriously? You wanna come down see my grandmother on a Sunday without notice? You know how ill my grandmother is, and you guys are not exactly the kinda guys she would want me to bring around!”
    But they insisted. She had to agree. There was no choice.
    “Fine, fine,” she said. She told them to follow her car—and then sped away faster than she had ever driven in her life.
    Leigh would always know she made a difference in Elkton, getting violent racists put away. Thanks to her, fewer Americans were