Nearly 100 years ago, a coldhearted Fort Lauderdalecrowd came to gawk at the body of lynching victim Rubin Stacy as he hung heavy from a tree.
On Tuesday, a much different crowd gathered not far from that same sad spot near Davie Boulevard and Southwest 31 Avenue — more than 70 of Stacy’s relatives along with prominent elected officials, community activists, teachers and students.
They came to remember Stacy and to condemn what happened that day on July 19, 1935 — a brutal crime, witnessed by dozens if not hundreds, that brought no trial and no justice.
Tuesday’s crowd also came to witness the unveiling of the first of dozens of street signs that will carry Stacy’s name along a 2-mile stretch of Davie Boulevard.
As dozens of Stacy’s relatives looked on with a mixture of pride and sorrow, his great niece Sandra Blackmon-Lane pulled away a black cloth to reveal the sign underneath: Rubin Stacy Memorial Boulevard.
The crowd, some in tears, erupted into jubilant cheers.
The sign unveiling ceremony, held at 1 p.m. at St. Thomas Aquinas High School’s Bienes Center for the Arts, drew more than 300 people.
Mayor Dean Trantalis, one of several speakers, said the memorializing of Rubin Stacy was long overdue, but an important step in helping shine a light on the wrongs of the past.
At the end of his speech, he looked out at the faces before him and told the family: “I’m sorry. I apologize on behalf of Fort Lauderdale for what happened to Rubin Stacy.”
A bittersweet day
Earlier in the day, the city hosted a reunion lunch for the Stacy family at the nearby restaurant Las Calenitas.
For many of his relatives, it was their first meeting.
Deneen Pettis, of Tamarac, came with her 75-year-old mom, Eloise Pettis, of Hollywood.
“Rubin Stacy was my mother’s brother,” Eloise Pettis said. “My mother told me he was a smart young man who loved his family. He was a nice-looking man. It’s a fine thing the city is doing to honor him. It’s a blessing, but it’s sad at the same time.”
Three days before Stacy was lynched by a mob of white vigilantes, he stopped at a white woman’s home to ask for a glass of water. She claimed he’d attacked her with a knife.
Stacy, a native of southern Georgia, was around 28 years old when he was killed, his family says. As word spread of the killing, hundreds of smiling white folk, children included, gathered to gawk.
Hanged while handcuffed, Stacy was shot 17 times. His body was left hanging for eight hours, blood dripping from his toes.
Eyewitness accounts later revealed deputies organized the lynching.
Anne Naves, Stacy’s niece, was eight years old at the time.
Naves, now 95, shared memories of her quiet but handsome uncle during Tuesday’s ceremony.
‘Something terrible happened’
He married her aunt. The couple and their toddler son lived with her family and grandparents in their four-bedroom bungalow on Northwest Second Street.
“Each day I remember my grandfather, father and uncle going out looking for work,” she said. “We were all living together. Things were very tough after the Depression.”
Then one day, things changed.
“My mother’s beautiful laugh stopped,” she said. “My father’s teasing stopped. We knew something terrible happened.”
It was only days later that Naves and her two sisters were told what happened to their uncle.
“It was the most painful thing in my life,” she told the Sun Sentinel. “We didn’t have a funeral. The body was just dumped at the funeral parlor and they were told to bury him. We never had a chance to have a funeral.”
Some compared Tuesday’s ceremony to a funeral. A student sang the traditional funeral song “Amazing Grace.” The school’s monsignor read a long prayer and family members were called up to speak.
But to Anne Naves, Tuesday’s ceremony was more like a chance for closure. “We are finally getting the truth put out there, a truth that was absolutely needed for all those years,” she told the Sun Sentinel after the ceremony.
Naves had this advice for the crowd gathered to honor Rubin Stacy on Tuesday.
“Teach your children the history,” she said. “Tell them the truth. History is the truth.”
Naves then addressed all the people who share the Stacy family history — her own family history.
“To my family I have not yet met, God bless you. And I hope to see you and meet you in the future.”
Jamal Naves, 29, watched his grandmother speak from the front row.
Naves, also of Lauderhill, says he only heard the disturbing story of Rubin Stacy’s lynching a few weeks ago.
‘Bringing us together’
By Tuesday, he knew the whole sordid story and was meeting cousins he never knew he had.
“It’s very emotional and very touching when you meet people under these circumstances,” he said. “But it’s also beautiful because it’s bringing us together.”
Naves stood tall and proud as several people eager to meet his grandmother made their way over to her, taking photos and sharing stories.
Naves said he plans to follow her advice to share the story of Rubin Stacy.
“I don’t have children yet, but when I do, I will tell them his story,” he said. “I will tell my children and my grandchildren.”
History was not always kind, Fort Lauderdale Commissioner Robert McKinzie noted on Tuesday.
Rubin Stacy was one of hundreds of men lynched in this country because of the color of their skin, McKinzie said.
“I’m feeling bittersweet,” he told the South Florida Sun Sentinel. “To know the story, it’s bitter. To see where we are as a city brings more joy and hope for Fort Lauderdale.”
There is no way to right the wrong that was inflicted on Rubin Stacy, McKinzie said.
“But what you can do is tell the story and play the story,” he said. “Tell the story. Many on our city commission didn’t know the story. Talking about it, we got here. It’s a good day. A long time coming, but a good day.”
Susannah Bryan can be reached at or on Twitter @Susannah_Bryan
