Cold Case“Wednesday’s Women”
Original Airdate: Oct 12, 2008
Amanda - TwoCents Reviewer
amanda@thetwocentscorp.com
Well, I never thought I’d see an episode of “Cold Case” where Lilly Rush is the character they use to lighten things up, but I also never thought I’d see Vera become a Tupperware lady, nor did I ever think be privileged enough to hear Tracie Thoms sing on the show, but “Wednesday’s Women” proved me wrong on all counts. In addition to all this, we explore the moving and inspiring case of a woman who gave her life during the Civil Rights movement.
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[photo: Ron P. Jaffe / CBS]
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Cold Case
ReplyDelete“Wednesday’s Women”
Original Airdate: Oct 12, 2008
Amanda - TwoCents Reviewer
amanda@thetwocentscorp.com
Well, I never thought I’d see an episode of “Cold Case” where Lilly Rush is the character they use to lighten things up, but I also never thought I’d see Vera become a Tupperware lady, nor did I ever think be privileged enough to hear Tracie Thoms sing on the show, but “Wednesday’s Women” proved me wrong on all counts. In addition to all this, we explore the moving and inspiring case of a woman who gave her life during the Civil Rights movement.
In this episode, Lilly reopens the case of Miriam Forester, a Philadelphia housewife found dead from a hit-and-run in 1964. Although her death was originally ruled an accident, Miriam’s sister became suspicious when she unpacked some of Miriam’s Tupperware and found a threatening note. An examination of the scene photos shows a strange puncture wound on the back of Miriam’s neck that’s inconsistent with a hit-and-run. The plot thickens when the detectives discover that Miriam and three other women (the African-American Belinda and Ella, and the Jewish Violet), were involved in a group called Wednesday’s Women. These women, under the guise of selling Tupperware, would travel to Hazelton, Mississippi during Freedom Summer to assist in the Freedom Schools. Although this assignment was dangerous, Miriam, in a touching scene, declared to her friends that it wasn’t about her, it was about all of them, and the world telling them they couldn’t be friends.
The case sends Kat and Jeffries to Mississippi to interview Belinda, who’s still working at the last Freedom School (now a school for the arts), and also Jim and Kitty, the brother-and-sister team with whom Miriam stayed when she went to Mississippi. Kat’s memories of family vacations to the South lead her to realize that the burrs and red clay found on Miriam’s body came, in fact, from Hazelton, not Philadelphia, meaning that she died there and was brought back to Philly. The investigation briefly centers on Cordell, an African-American worker in the schools who resented Miriam’s presence and who proved to be the source of the threatening note. He blamed her and other meddling whites for the recent uptick in school bombings; if the whites weren’t there, he reasoned, the KKK wouldn’t know where the schools were located, showing her the threatening note as proof that their enemies were serious. The point was driven home further when a Molotov cocktail was thrown through the window of the school.
Back up North, Scotty realizes that the puncture wound on Miriam’s neck was caused by the hood ornament, but a car would have been too low: a truck, however, would not have been. He digs up DMV records to determine that Jim owned a pickup with a sharp hood ornament, and, at the swamp where Miriam’s body was dumped, Jim confesses that he joined the KKK that year, found out Miriam’s true purpose for being in Hazelton, and lured her to the swamp along with some of his buddies. Miriam, however, stuck to her Tupperware story, and the KKK buddies decided she didn’t know anything about the Freedom Schools. Enraged not at her politics, but at the way she embarrassed him in front of his friends, Jim mowed her down, then lured her friends to the swamp to find her body. This scene was utterly heartbreaking, as was the last scene where the three surviving women, having driven back to Philadelphia with their friend’s body, tried to report the crime to the police, but the officer there made it clear that racism, although perhaps not sanctioned, was every bit as alive up North as it was down South.
On the lighter side, Lilly goes bowling. No, seriously. Saccardo decided they needed to go on a real date, which, in his world of appletinis, Timberlands, and coffee drinks for which one needs a spoon (thanks, Scotty!), apparently, is bowling. Lilly, to her credit, seemed to be having a blast, until Saccardo got the dreaded phone call: his assignment for the Feds is set to begin, and he ships out later that night. He’ll miss Lilly, and she’ll miss him, but I can’t say that I will. I love that Lilly’s smiling again, but I think she can smile without him, too. We’ll see if I’m right. If she doesn’t smile at Vera and the Tupperware, though, she’s got no sense of humor at all. Vera, in a recycled plotline that is nonetheless hilarious every time they use it, started out hunting through the fridge for his cinnamon roll, moved on to griping about the filthy condition of said fridge, initially complaining about the uber-aggressive tactics of the Tupperware ladies he interviewed, and then embracing it to the point where he bought a whole bunch of it, tried to sell some of it to Jeffries, and ended up using it to reorganize the fridge.
And I’d be completely remiss if I neglected to mention the fine job cast member John Finn (Stillman) did in directing this episode, and of course the beautiful rendition of “This Little Light of Mine” sung by Tracie Thoms (Kat Miller) during the end montage. That beautiful moment with Kat and her daughter at the end absolutely made the episode for me.
So that’s my two cents, which, in 1964, would have bought you maybe three or four slices of bread. What did you think? Were you even aware of the Freedom Schools? (I wasn’t). Is Tupperware really all it’s cracked up to be? Will you miss Saccardo? I welcome your thoughts!
Yes, I enjoyed this episodes. I appreciate the plot of Cold Case because I am a sociologist and it educates people about this country's history...good and bad. We in the south knew that anything below Canada was the "Mason Dixie Line". Now, it's anything below the Arctic Circle. Disguised differently but still alive and well.
DeleteYeah it was a good episode. I've been enjoying Lilly's little romance. I'm sad to see him go.
ReplyDeleteI didn't know anything about the Freedom Schools. Still not really clear what they were about (guess I'll have to google it!).
Yes Tupperware is pretty great. I believe they come with a lifetime guarantee. It was funny how she went on about it..."the signature burp...." especially considering what was really on her agenda!
The song at the end was sweet. I had to rewind the tape to make sure that was really Kat!
That's my half crust (probably what you could get for two cents nowadays)!
Hey, Jenny, thanks for stopping by and leaving your half crust! I'm glad they decided to use the Tupperware as a running gag. It lightened both the detectives' interactions and, in a way, the case itself. That moment where Vera opened the fridge to reveal the cleaned, organized, Tupperware-sorted contents was just a thing of genius.
ReplyDeleteAccording to Wikipedia, Freedom Schools were alternative schools for African-American youngsters to help educate them to be instruments of social change. It's sad that it takes a TV show and some internet surfing to learn about something so important, but, on the other hand, many props to Cold Case for bringing this little-known chapter of American history to the nation's attention!
http://wimsfilmproject.com/ Wednesday's Women was a real group (but not with Tupperware) ...such an interesting episode
ReplyDeleteENJOYED EPISODE& REALISM OF WHAT WENT ON BACK THEN!
ReplyDelete