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IM-010 Impostor · Alabama 1991

Forrest Carter — a Klansman who wrote as a Cherokee orphan

The persona
Forrest Carter, a gentle Cherokee orphan and storyteller
Fooled
Readers, reviewers, and a generation of educators
Unmasked
The New York Times in 1976, and conclusively by Dan T. Carter in 1991
Status
Exposed

Summary

"Forrest Carter," the soft-spoken Cherokee storyteller whose 1976 book The Education of Little Tree was sold as the true memoir of an orphaned boy raised by his Indian grandparents in the Depression-era mountains, was Asa Earl Carter — a Ku Klux Klan organizer and segregationist speechwriter from Alabama. The connection was reported by The New York Times in August 1976, when Carter was still alive, and was documented conclusively by the historian Dan T. Carter in The New York Times on 4 October 1991, after the book became a paperback best-seller. The tender chronicle of Cherokee wisdom had been written by a man whose documented public life had been devoted to white supremacy.

Asa Carter's record is a matter of plain historical fact. Born in Anniston, Alabama, on 4 September 1925, he ran a segregationist radio program in the 1950s, founded the paramilitary "Original Ku Klux Klan of the Confederacy," and was associated with extreme violence: members of his Klan group attacked the singer Nat King Cole on a Birmingham stage in 1956, and in 1957 six of his followers abducted and castrated a Black man, Edward Aaron. Carter wrote speeches for Governor George Wallace and is credited with Wallace's 1963 line, "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever." After a failed 1970 run for governor — to Wallace's right — he reinvented himself.

That reinvention was the imposture. Carter moved to Texas, took the name "Forrest" (after the Confederate general and early Klan leader Nathan Bedford Forrest), claimed Cherokee ancestry, and wrote Westerns and then a fake memoir. The Education of Little Tree appropriated a Cherokee identity and voice to tell a gentle story of Indigenous wisdom — written by a man whose career had been built on racial hatred, and whose "Cherokee" detail Cherokee readers later judged inaccurate and stereotyped.

The deception was exposed twice and survived the first exposure by years. The 1976 Times report did not stop the persona; Carter publicly denied being Asa, kept writing, and died in 1979 still claiming the invented life. Only in 1991, when Little Tree topped the paperback list and won a booksellers' award as cherished nonfiction, did the full account land — after which the Times moved the book from its nonfiction list to its fiction list, registering that the memoir was an invention.

Timeline

4 September 1925
Asa Earl Carter is born in Anniston, Alabama
He will become a radio broadcaster and political organizer on the segregationist far right.
1953–1955
Segregationist broadcasting
Carter runs a syndicated radio program in Birmingham promoting white supremacy and attacking integration.
mid-1950s
He founds a paramilitary Klan
Carter organizes the "Original Ku Klux Klan of the Confederacy," a violent splinter group.
1956
The Nat King Cole attack
Members of Carter's Klan group assault the singer Nat King Cole on stage in Birmingham.
1957
The castration of Edward Aaron
Six members of Carter's group abduct and castrate a Black man, Edward Aaron, in one of the era's most notorious racial crimes.
1963
"Segregation forever."
As a speechwriter for Governor George Wallace, Carter is credited with the inaugural line "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever."
1970
He loses a race for governor
Running to Wallace's right as an open white supremacist, Carter is badly beaten in the Democratic primary.
early 1970s
The reinvention
Carter moves to Texas, takes the name "Forrest Carter," and begins claiming Cherokee ancestry.
1972–1973
A Western under the new name
He publishes The Rebel Outlaw: Josey Wales (reissued as Gone to Texas), later filmed by Clint Eastwood as The Outlaw Josey Wales (1976).
1976
The Education of Little Tree is published
Marketed as the true memoir of a Cherokee orphan boy raised by his grandparents in the mountains.
August 1976
First exposure
The New York Times reports that Forrest Carter is Asa Earl Carter; Carter denies it and continues the persona.
7 June 1979
Carter dies in Texas
He dies still maintaining the Forrest Carter identity.
4 October 1991
Conclusive exposure
Historian Dan T. Carter documents the full record in The New York Times as Little Tree tops the paperback list; the Times later moves the book to its fiction list.

The documented life of Asa Earl Carter

Before there was a Forrest Carter there was Asa Earl Carter, and his life is one of the better-documented careers on the violent American far right of the mid-twentieth century. Born in Anniston, Alabama, in 1925, Carter emerged in the 1950s as a segregationist broadcaster, running a syndicated Birmingham radio program that mixed anti-integration politics with antisemitic and white-supremacist themes. He moved from rhetoric to organization, founding the "Original Ku Klux Klan of the Confederacy," a paramilitary Klan group separate from and more extreme than the established Klan structures of the day.

That group's record is brutal and on the record. In 1956 men associated with Carter's Klan attacked the singer Nat King Cole during a performance in Birmingham. In 1957 six members of his group abducted a Black handyman, Edward Aaron, at random and castrated him — a crime intended as terror. Carter himself was charged in connection with shooting two members of his own group in a dispute, though the charges were dropped. He published a white-supremacist periodical and built a public identity entirely around the defense of segregation.

Carter's reach extended into mainstream Alabama politics through George Wallace. As a speechwriter for Wallace in the early 1960s, he is credited with the most famous sentence of segregationist oratory — "Segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever" — delivered at Wallace's 1963 inauguration. When Wallace later moderated his public posture, Carter ran for governor himself in 1970 as an unreconstructed segregationist and was crushed. From that political dead end the second self emerged. None of this background is in dispute; it is the verifiable foundation against which the gentleness of his later persona must be read.

The making of a Cherokee storyteller

The reinvention was deliberate and pointed. Carter left Alabama for Texas, set aside "Asa," and took the first name "Forrest" — a choice that, however he framed it, echoed Nathan Bedford Forrest, the Confederate general and early Klan figure. He let it be understood that he was of Cherokee descent, a man of the Western outdoors and Native heritage, and he turned to fiction. His Western The Rebel Outlaw: Josey Wales (1972), reissued as Gone to Texas, was adapted into Clint Eastwood's well-regarded 1976 film The Outlaw Josey Wales, lending the new name commercial credibility.

Then came the masterstroke of the imposture: a memoir. The Education of Little Tree, published in 1976, was presented as Forrest Carter's own boyhood — an orphaned part-Cherokee child sent to live with his grandparents in the Tennessee mountains during the Depression, learning Cherokee ways, mountain self-reliance, and a gentle, anti-materialist wisdom. The book's voice was tender, its values communal and ecological, its grandfather and grandmother dispensers of Indigenous insight. It was, on its face, the antithesis of everything Asa Carter had publicly stood for, which is precisely why so few connected the kindly narrator to the Klan organizer.

The appropriation here is twofold and worth naming directly. Carter took a Cherokee identity he did not possess and used it to manufacture authenticity for a sentimental fable; Cherokee readers and scholars later noted that the book's "Cherokee" words and customs were inaccurate and its Indigenous characters stereotyped. A white supremacist had borrowed the cultural authority of a Native people to sell a feel-good memoir to the very liberal, multicultural audience his earlier career had despised — and the borrowing worked because readers wanted the wisdom the persona seemed to offer and had no reason to suspect its source.

Two exposures and a list that told the truth

The first exposure came early and failed to stick. In August 1976, The New York Times reported what Alabama insiders already knew — that Forrest Carter was Asa Earl Carter, the Klansman and Wallace speechwriter — and the connection was reinforced by his own public conduct, including a television appearance in which his manner and accent struck those who knew his past. Carter simply denied it, insisting he was a different man, and lived out the Forrest Carter identity until his death in 1979. The persona's survival through a Times exposé is itself instructive: a denial, delivered confidently, can outrun a true report when audiences prefer the comforting figure to the documented one.

The second exposure was the one that held, and it came years after Carter was dead. When the University of New Mexico Press paperback of The Education of Little Tree became a sensation, climbing to the top of the paperback list and winning the first American Booksellers Book of the Year (ABBY) award in 1991 — honored as beloved nonfiction — the historian Dan T. Carter, a scholar of Wallace and the segregationist South and no relation, published a definitive account in The New York Times on 4 October 1991. He laid out the full record: the Klan organization, the violence, the Wallace speeches, the "Forrest" reinvention. This time the evidence was overwhelming and the author could not deny it from the grave. The most telling institutional response was bibliographic. The Times moved The Education of Little Tree from its nonfiction best-seller list to its fiction list — a quiet, exact admission that the memoir was a fabrication. The book kept selling, often to readers who valued it as a novel or who set the author's biography aside, but the public record had been corrected: a treasured "true" account of Cherokee childhood had been written by a man who organized for white supremacy.

The Five Factors

01
Redemption is the story we want to buy
A hardened racist writing tender Cherokee wisdom is a conversion narrative too satisfying to interrogate, and audiences reached for the gentle author rather than the documented Klansman. The hope that people transform makes us credulous toward evidence of transformation. A persona that offers redemption disarms the scrutiny that would expose it.
02
The memoir's claim of lived truth
Marketed as autobiography, Little Tree asked to be believed as testimony, and testimony is read with sympathy rather than skepticism. The label "true story" converts fiction into evidence and shields it from the checking applied to ordinary claims. A false memoir borrows the authority of having been there.
03
Appropriated identity as instant authenticity
By claiming Cherokee heritage, Carter gave his story a credential no white Alabama segregationist could otherwise have held, and readers accepted the heritage as proof of the wisdom. Assuming a marginalized identity manufactures authenticity on demand — and does so by occupying a voice that belongs to others, which is the deception's deepest harm.
04
A denial that outran the report
The 1976 exposure existed and was ignored because Carter flatly denied it and the public preferred the kindlier figure. A confident denial, repeated, can neutralize a true account when no one has the will to insist on the record. Exposure is not the same as acceptance; a fact must be enforced, not merely published.
05
Counter-stereotype as camouflage
Carter was hidden by the sheer distance between the racist organizer and the gentle Indian sage; the two seemed too opposite to be one man. We assume people are consistent, so a persona that contradicts the author's known character escapes suspicion precisely because it contradicts it. The best disguise is the opposite of the truth.

Aftermath

The Education of Little Tree survived its unmasking commercially and pedagogically, which is part of what makes the case enduring. For years after 1991 it remained in print, was taught in schools, and was adapted into a 1997 film, even as its true authorship was a matter of public record; many readers continued to embrace the book as a novel or to separate the writing from the writer. The episode became a standard reference in debates over whether and how a work can be read apart from the documented life and intentions of its author.

For Cherokee people and for scholars of Native representation, the harm is specific and lasting. A white supremacist appropriated a Cherokee identity, populated a best-selling "memoir" with inaccurate and stereotyped versions of Cherokee language and culture, and taught a mass audience to receive that counterfeit as authentic Indigenous wisdom — all while the actual Cherokee Nation had no part in it. The case is now cited alongside other impostures of Indigenous identity as an example of how appropriation can pass for tribute, and how a marketplace hungry for "authentic" Native voices can be served a fabrication built by someone hostile to the people he claimed. The most honest summary the record permits is blunt: the gentleness on the page was real as craft and false as testimony, and the man who produced it was, by his own documented history, an organizer of racial terror.

Lessons

  1. Read a memoir's "true story" label as a claim to verify, not a guarantee; the autobiographical frame is exactly what a fabricator exploits.
  2. Be wary of redemption narratives that flatter your hope that people change; the more satisfying the conversion, the more it warrants checking.
  3. Treat claimed membership in a marginalized group as a fact to confirm, especially when that identity supplies the work's authority.
  4. Do not assume a true exposure has stuck; a confident denial can outlast a correct report until the record is actively enforced.
  5. Notice when a new persona is the precise opposite of a documented past; sharp contrast can be camouflage, not transformation.

References