ABC News
ABC News
“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth is the only sure foundation for just judgment,” said Ida B. Wells.
More than a century ago, Ida B. Wells lifted up a truth that remains relevant today: justice cannot exist without truth. When it comes to Black life in America, too often do facts appear inconsistent and questions remain unanswered, leaving Black communities to reconcile contradictions on our own.
On Monday, Sept. 21, 2026, a Jackson County, Mississippi, grand jury reached a decision in the death of Nolan Wells, an 18-year-old Black boy from Ocean Springs, Mississippi.
Wells took a boating trip to Horn Island with friends on the Fourth of July. While his friends returned to the mainland, Wells never returned home. Instead, his body was discovered days later near the shoreline to the horror of his family and community.
The grand jury determined that no criminal charges would be filed in connection with his death and concluded that his death was consistent with drowning.
But questions remain, and the whole truth is not obtained.
Concerns surrounding the case include the lack of communication and transparency from Nolan Wells’ friends who were with him on the island: cellphone data, audio recordings from the day of the incident, witness testimony and conflicting questions about the medical findings.
Of particular concern are Wells’ autopsy and the forensic examination of his cellphone.
The medical findings have become an important point of discussion surrounding the case.
Attorney Liza Park, a member of Wells’ legal team, said during a Sept. 24 press conference in Orlando, Florida, that the medical examination did not find water in Wells’ stomach, lungs or throat.
Park also said that the state’s medical examiner’s report classified Wells’ cause of death as undetermined. According to Wells’ legal team, both the private autopsy and the state medical examiner’s report reached an undetermined conclusion.
The questions surrounding Wells' death have sparked an outcry from the Black community.
A question that many have is: How did the grand jury ultimately conclude that Wells' death was consistent with drowning when the medical examination did not identify water in his stomach, lungs or throat?
This leaves another pressing question: Is it really so easy to write off another Black life without providing the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Why is that truth so forcefully withheld from Black people?
For Black Americans, particularly in the deep south like Mississippi, these questions exist within a much longer history.
According to the Federal Judicial Center, Mississippi recorded more lynchings of African Americans than any other state between 1877 and 1950. The violence of that era was not separate from the legal system.
In many cases, Black Americans were denied meaningful protection under the law while perpetrators of racial violence faced little or no accountability. This history has contributed to a complex and painful relationship between Black communities and the institutions responsible for administering justice.
That history is precisely why transparency matters.
Justice for Nolan Wells begins with recognizing that his life has value. Wells is someone's son, someone's friend and a member of a community grieving his loss. His death cannot simply become another case number or another conclusion that the public is expected to accept without understanding how it was reached.
Justice begins with a simple concept: the truth.
The truth about what happened to Wells. The truth about the evidence. The truth about what investigators found, what they could not determine and what questions remain unanswered.
This returns the question that Ida B. Wells' legacy demands we continue to ask: Why do we not deserve the truth?
And more specifically, why should the pursuit of truth become any less urgent when the person seeking it is Black?
“The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth is the only sure foundation for just judgment,” said Ida B. Wells.
More than a century ago, Ida B. Wells lifted up a truth that remains relevant today: justice cannot exist without truth. When it comes to Black life in America, too often do facts appear inconsistent and questions remain unanswered, leaving Black communities to reconcile contradictions on our own.
On Monday, Sept. 21, 2026, a Jackson County, Mississippi, grand jury reached a decision in the death of Nolan Wells, an 18-year-old Black boy from Ocean Springs, Mississippi.
Wells took a boating trip to Horn Island with friends on the Fourth of July. While his friends returned to the mainland, Wells never returned home. Instead, his body was discovered days later near the shoreline to the horror of his family and community.
The grand jury determined that no criminal charges would be filed in connection with his death and concluded that his death was consistent with drowning.
But questions remain, and the whole truth is not obtained.
Concerns surrounding the case include the lack of communication and transparency from Nolan Wells’ friends who were with him on the island: cellphone data, audio recordings from the day of the incident, witness testimony and conflicting questions about the medical findings.
Of particular concern are Wells’ autopsy and the forensic examination of his cellphone.
The medical findings have become an important point of discussion surrounding the case.
Attorney Liza Park, a member of Wells’ legal team, said during a Sept. 24 press conference in Orlando, Florida, that the medical examination did not find water in Wells’ stomach, lungs or throat.
Park also said that the state’s medical examiner’s report classified Wells’ cause of death as undetermined. According to Wells’ legal team, both the private autopsy and the state medical examiner’s report reached an undetermined conclusion.
The questions surrounding Wells' death have sparked an outcry from the Black community.
A question that many have is: How did the grand jury ultimately conclude that Wells' death was consistent with drowning when the medical examination did not identify water in his stomach, lungs or throat?
This leaves another pressing question: Is it really so easy to write off another Black life without providing the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Why is that truth so forcefully withheld from Black people?
For Black Americans, particularly in the deep south like Mississippi, these questions exist within a much longer history.
According to the Federal Judicial Center, Mississippi recorded more lynchings of African Americans than any other state between 1877 and 1950. The violence of that era was not separate from the legal system.
In many cases, Black Americans were denied meaningful protection under the law while perpetrators of racial violence faced little or no accountability. This history has contributed to a complex and painful relationship between Black communities and the institutions responsible for administering justice.
That history is precisely why transparency matters.
Justice for Nolan Wells begins with recognizing that his life has value. Wells is someone's son, someone's friend and a member of a community grieving his loss. His death cannot simply become another case number or another conclusion that the public is expected to accept without understanding how it was reached.
Justice begins with a simple concept: the truth.
The truth about what happened to Wells. The truth about the evidence. The truth about what investigators found, what they could not determine and what questions remain unanswered.
This returns the question that Ida B. Wells' legacy demands we continue to ask: Why do we not deserve the truth?
And more specifically, why should the pursuit of truth become any less urgent when the person seeking it is Black?