Tuesday, February 5, 2013

D.C. BLACK




The Great Escapee



D.C. Black couldn’t stay in one place for very long, especially behind the iron bars of a cramped, dank and dark jail cell. So from the very first moment he was captured by Laurens County authorities, D.C. Black began to plot his escape from the Laurens County jail. Sure enough, just as he had done many times before, this fleeing felon escaped his captors in short order. This time, his freedom was ephemeral when he was recaptured by two state patrolmen and a Georgia National Guard colonel.

D.C. Black, already known as an “elusive escapee,” participated in a mass unauthorized exodus of at least twenty-eight others from the state prison near Reidsville on April 16, 1943. Black joined his compatriot and fellow escape artist, Leland Harvey, on a crime rampage. Within ten days, all but four of the escaped prisoners had been recaptured. Black and Harvey, two of the most illustrious felons anywhere in Georgia, were captured in Arkwright, near Macon, on April 25. Both men were asleep in their car and did not resist their arrest.

Just two days later, Black, who was serving one to twenty years on robbery charges, was on the lamb again. Harvey and Black, dressed in civilian clothes, easily overwhelmed a Bibb County deputy, calmly took the elevator down from the fifth story jail in the courthouse, quietly stole a car, and westwardly raced at speeds of more than 85 mph toward Vineville. Black and Harvey’s easy escape was blamed on woefully ineffective and possibly corrupt Bibb County deputies.

On May 12, the skipping scoundrel was encountered by a pair of Atlanta detectives who sprayed his path with warning rounds toward the back of the barn where he was hiding just outside of Morrow, Georgia. Not chancing another escape from a less than secure county jail, Black was returned to the state penitentiary in Reidsville for a long tenure on the chain gang.

Black was serving a 41 to 45-year sentence in a Ware prison, when he staged yet another in a long string of escapes. Black attempted to rob a hotel in Macon on Thursday, May 10, 1956. Within a few hours, he was spotted by six alert Dublinites, who recognized the tag number while they were returning from work at Warner Robins Air Force Base. One of the men called the State Patrol. Meanwhile the others tailed the suspect until patrolmen arrested him, but not before Black attempted to wreck their cars. A shootout took place behind the Shamrock Court Motel, which was situated across Highway 80 from the Dublin VA Center.

After an intense interrogation, Black finally admitted that his name was not A.J. Allen and that he was wanted on outstanding robbery charges. Almost proud of his crimes, the running rascal admitted that he stole a few items on his flight from Macon.

Just about eight o’clock on Saturday morning, county jailer Art Sapp went into the cell area and opened the door. Suddenly, the strongly built Black grabbed Sapp and wrested his gun away and forced the jailer into the cell. Black ran behind the Speed Oil Company and then across East Jackson Street. After stealing Carl Allen’s 1954 Chevrolet with a quarter of tank of gas in it, Black headed west along Highway 80 before turning southeast through a maze of dirt roads. The car took the skipping scoundrel as far as a wooded area northeast of Rentz, where it was reported found by Highway Patrol Sergeant, B.A. Snipes. Then the departing dastard set out on foot.

Sheriff Carlus Gay issued an order for a countywide man hunt by sheriff’s deputies, Dublin and East Dublin police, State Patrol officers, and GBI agents, which totaled more than one hundred men. Governor Marvin Griffin called in the National Guard for help.

While running through the woods, the vanishing villain got a whiff of Mrs. Millard Coleman’s cooking. After identifying himself as a wanted man, Black demanded that Mrs. Coleman cook him a meal and fix himself some sandwiches in exchange for not hurting her. After Black skedaddled, Mrs. Coleman called family friend and attorney Bill White, who alerted Sheriff Gay.

By the late hours of Monday evening, a pack of bloodhounds and their handlers arrived from Milledgeville to join in the chase. The hunt continued until Tuesday morning when Black was spotted by National Guardsmen Donald Maddox, Pete Wicker, H.T. Lindsey, and Bobby Ennis.

Just before dawn on Tuesday the exhausted escapee, bruised and scraped, fell to the ground. He begged his captors, Corporal W.B. Garr, Trooper J.T. Cauthen, and Col. W.B. Crowley, not to shoot him, indicating that Jailer Sapp’s gun was in his hip pocket of the overalls he had stolen earlier in the day some two and one half miles from the Coleman home. Although his skin was scratched and his clothes torn by briars and brambles, Black was closely shaven, his stolen razor still in his pocket.

Black, always the deserting degenerate, was shackled and brought back to the county jail on the southeast corner of the courthouse square. To make sure Black’s stay was a longer and uneventful one, Sheriff Gay placed the frequent fugitive in the “death cell.”

Black commented on his failed escape by stating that the next time he escaped, he would get a taxi and get a hotel room. He told reporters that the officers were so close to him several times that he could hear transmissions over their walkie-talkies. When asked by a Courier Herald reporter how it felt to be hunted for three days, Black responded, “It is about like a rabbit being hunted.”

To make things worse for the Sheriff’s deputies while the search for Black was intensifying, nine prisoners escaped from the Public Works Camp on Sunday night and set out on a mass string of robberies and thefts. With little sleep after an all night manhunt, deputies answered a call about a cracker salesman who was robbed in Orianna by persons fitting the description of the escaped prisoners.

Warden Coleman said the nine men simply vanished without a trace. The escapees scattered in all directions and stole cars, one belonging to Dr. Nelson Carswell and another to O.L. Colter. Within four days, more than half of the men were recaptured at various points around the state.

Additional charges of attempted robbery, automobile theft, escape, and breaking and entering were issued against Black. It wouldn’t be the last time Black, alias Allen John Billingsley, would escape. He ran his total escapes to seventeen, including possibly his last one in 1975 , when and his old escaping ally, Leland Harvey, both near the age of seventy, walked out of a correctional facility up the road in Hardwick, Georgia, one designed for aged and infirmed criminals. The duo was caught in Mississippi when Black’s stolen Cadillac sideswiped a bridge railing and crashed. But it was here, a mile east of Rentz, Georgia that D.C. Black, the disappearing desperado, saw the end to one of his last great escapes.

P.S. I wasn't able to find a picture of D.C. Black.  Apparently, he never stood still long enough to have one made.


OTHO AND HAROLD



Two Bright Spots In the Nighttime


There was a time long ago in the days of Jim Crow when evil men pulled robes over their heads and skulked through the darkness with meanness on their minds. Such was the case on a frosty Thursday evening in the Mount Airy Community of Dodge County on March 2, 1950. Out of the brilliance of a near full moon lit night appeared two shining stars of good and right, who liberated an innocent man from the wrongful vengeance of a miscreant mob.

Flogging of both black and white people had been on the rise in the early months of 1950. Johnny Graham, white, and Riley Dykes, black, were beaten by persons unknown. Little or no efforts were made by local law enforcement to apprehend the perpetrators.

Sixteen-year-old Harold Barrentine, (Above left)  who later would become a Dublin accountant and businessman, was on his way to a party near his home. He had heard the rumors about floggings, but paid no mind to them as he had more important thoughts like any sixteen- year-old boy would. While he was attending the party, Harold fortunately noticed a caravan of vehicles carrying some twenty-five or more hooded men who were headed toward the farm house of Jesse Lee Goodman, a farm hand who worked for Otho Wiggins. Harold ran as fast as he could to warn Mr. Wiggins of his fears about Jesse Lee.

Meanwhile, a hooded squad of scoundrels forced open the lock on the front door of the Goodman home and burst into the first bedroom, where they found Clydie Mae Goodman and her two children shivering in fear for their lives. Then the horde descended upon another bedroom where they found Goodman and another child asleep. Allowing Goodman to put on only a few clothes, the fiendish throng drug him into the wintry woods.

Goodman remembered the leader, whom he called "the King." "He had a large red shoulder patch and a big cross or star on his sleeve," Goodman testified. "He was the boss. He gave the orders," Jesse Lee told law enforcement officers. Jesse went on to tell how the leader asked about some oil he had. Goodman told his captors that he had gotten the oil from his boss, Mr. Otho Wiggins. Without any regard for the truthfulness of Goodman's statements, the assaulters began to mercilessly beat and flog ol' Jesse. After a momentary pause, the whipping was about to resume.

That's when Otho Wiggins showed up.

Otho loaded his .22 caliber rifle, dismounted his truck, and focused his spotlight on the source of the commotion. Seeing cars and some people he thought he recognized and with full comprehension of what was unfolding before his eyes, Wiggins opened fire and kept on discharging his rifle until its chamber was empty. He reloaded and began firing again, some sixteen shots in all. Cowering behind Fords and Chevrolets, a few poltroons fired back without hitting their marks.

"When Mr. Otho started shootin' the man next to me shoved me in a car and jumped in on top of me," Goodman recalled. "Then he made me get in the seat and stay down low," Jesse stated before his antagonists dumped him out of the car and fled the scene. Goodman told authorities that his captors promised that they would seek revenge against Wiggins.

Wiggins would later say, "When I began firing, both men and cars took off in every direction."

N.A. Barrentine, Harold's father, accompanied Wiggins to report the incident to Dodge County Sheriff, O.B. Peacock. Apparently afraid of the Klan's retribution against himself, Sheriff Peacock stated the matter was none of his business and that they should report the case to the F.B.I. Peacock later jokingly told the editor of the Eastman Times-Journal, "I don't want the Klan getting after me. Otho didn't ask me to go. He just told me about it."

Editor Edwin T. Methvin, a long time opponent of the Ku Klux Klan, blasted Sheriff Peacock for his apathetic handling of the matter. Methvin, in cooperation with the F.B.I., launched a personal crusade to rid the county of the barbarian organization. Methvin did praise Wiggins in an editorial by stating, "We regret the marksmanship of Otho Wiggins was not better and that he succeeded in only dispersing the mob of hooded and robed men that attacked his Negro farm hand in Dodge County the other night. Mr. Wiggins made a gallant try, though, he deserves congratulations."

Also incensed with the violent acts was Superior Court Judge Eschol Graham, who called the Grand Jury into a special session to deal with the Klan, bootlegging and some problems with the local school board, the former two not being related to the latter. Wiggins, Goodman, and Barrentine all testified about what they saw and heard that night.

Harold Barrentine in identifying a 1939 Chevrolet belonging to Alfred Crumbley testified, "I see those cars almost every day and I would know them anywhere." Jesse Lee identified a 1949 pickup owned by Theo Lewis. Otho Wiggins confirmed the testimony of Barrentine and Goodman that the culprits were Klansmen by saying, "We saw the white robes and they had hoods over their heads." Their testimony led to the arrest of Crumbley, Lewis and a third suspect, one F.M. Smith.

Overnight, Otho Wiggins and Harold Barrentine became heroes to many. Sadly, they became scoundrels to others. Their fear of reprisals was real and warranted.

Otho Wiggins, who never had a single moment of remorse for his actions, wrote a letter to editor Methvin, which he promptly published to bolster his crusade. In thanking the members of the hooded order Wiggins wrote, "Since you have become the ones who have taken the law into your own hands, I don't suppose your wives and children will suffer nervousness or loss of sleep from such an occurrence." Otho sarcastically complimented the bravery of a mob of white men who would go into a person's house, regardless of race or creed, and drag him from his bed and beat him. Wiggins concluded his mocking missive by apologizing, "I extend to you loyal members of the hooded brotherhood my humble apology for being such a poor shot with my rifle. Hope to see you soon. Signed Your neighbor, Otho Wiggins."

It was on that cold, cold night more than sixty years ago when Jim Crow flew away into the starry skies where Otho Wiggins and Harold Barrentine shined as the brightest spots of mercy and kindness in the Dodge County nighttime.

JAMES JACKSON RUNS AMUCK




James Jackson Runs Amuck

COCHRAN, GA. - July 14, 1915 - No one alive knows why James Jackson ran amuck and killed a deputy, an overseer, and a young farmer. Those who did know what happened, could not or would not tell the whole story of James Jackson and why he killed three men and then was shot at and later blown up by a staggering posse.

The sun was scorching the fields of W.O. Peacock in Bleckley County, some three statute miles from the county seat of Cochran. James Jackson got on the very bad side of his field boss, Mr. Lem W. Sanders. Boss Sanders reprimanded Jackson and sent him back to his quarters in not too good of a mood. Hearsay repeaters swore that Sanders told Jackson that he would have to start working or quit his job on the farm. The rumor mongers consistently maintained that Sanders slapped Jackson, who stomped off in a huff. Some say he went back to get a gun, but the pervasive account is somewhat different.

It was nearly pitch dark when Sanders went to the Negro quarters to deliver some medicine to one of his sick workers. Sanders just happened to pass by Jackson's shack. After a long hard day in the hot fields, Sanders took a seat on the side of Jackson's front porch. Sitting with his back toward Jackson, Sanders' pistol was visible in his back hip pocket in the dim porch light.

Suddenly, and with no warning, Jackson sprang from his seat, grabbed his boss's gun, and pointed it point blank at his antagonist. Sanders, according to Hollis Blackshear, an occupant of the house, begged Jackson not to shoot him. Jackson grabbed Sanders by the arm and held him with one hand. And, with two shots into his heart, killed Lem Sanders dead with the other. Noticing that Blackshear had witnessed the murder, Jackson turned toward the trembling Blackshear and pulled his pistol trigger three times, all misfires. Jackson then fled to the home of one Peter Fambrough.

Fambrough took Jackson to the home of Jackson's brother, who lived near about three crow fly miles from Hawkinsville. When word got out that overseer Sanders had been shot, a small, but highly incensed, posse was organized by night marshal, W. Sumpter "Sump" Hogg. Oscar Lawson, a young farmer, went along with Sump Hogg up to the house to convince Jackson to give himself up.

Marshal Hogg approached a window of the shack and demanded the fleeing felon give himself up. Oscar Lawson went around to the back of the house. Jackson fired an instantly mortal rifle shot straight into the marshal's chest. Jackson walked across the interior of the house and fired a second mortal shot into an eye of Oscar Lawson, who never knew what killed him. Another member of the posse returned fire and temporarily disabled Jackson.

It was about that time when Bleckley County Sheriffs J.A. Floyd and Pulaski County Sheriff J. R. Rogers arrived with a very large posse of law enforcement officers and ordinary citizens. One of the officers grabbed Peter Fambrough and through the most persuasive acts of coercion, forced the terrified accomplice to go to the house and remove the corpses of Jackson's victims. All the while, Jackson kept up his fire from the inside of the embattled abode.

After dragging the dead men out of the line of fire, Fambrough was compelled to crawl under the house with a bundle of dynamite, which had been rushed in from a Hawkinsville store. When it appeared that Jackson was never going to give himself up voluntarily, the dynamite was ignited and Jackson's fortress was blown into various sized smithereens. The posse swarmed the shattered shanty, firing as thy approached. The point men found Jackson dead. Despite reports to the contrary, the Cochran Journal reported that James Jackson's death came at the hands of legally authorized law enforcement authors and not a lynch mob. Some reports suggested that Jackson was dragged from the splintered ruins of the flattened fortress and strung up in a tree by a vengeful mob of as many as six hundred men.

In the passion of the moment, Peter Fambrough and Jackson's brother were also killed when they resisted arrest. One published report maintained that the men had a shot gun, a pistol, and plenty of ammunition.

Lem Sanders, W.O. Peacock's 42-year-old trusted overseer, was buried with honors by the Woodmen of the World the next afternoon. Young Lawson was laid to rest in the cemetery at Antioch Church the next morning. Sump Hogg was known as one of the best officers of Bleckley County, whose sole fault was that he was too careless with his own safety. Mrs. Ludie Hogg and her three children sobbed as her husband was buried in the Weeping Pine Cemetery that afternoon.

Reports of the tragic events were often contradictory. Names of the principals were often misspelled or interchanged. One thing was for certain. Six men were dead. And, many Bleckley Countians were grieving as they closed their business houses for the three funerals.

Although there appeared to be no connection to the killings, the Bleckley County Sheriff announced his resignation within days after Marshal Hogg was killed. Sheriff Floyd stated that he could no longer perform his duties because he was unable to stand the financial strain. "During my first term, I wore out a good horse and buggy and a good automobile in the service of the county, and so far as I could determine, without any adequate financial return," the sheriff wrote.

Floyd maintained that his fees were based on sixty year old costs of operating the jail. He enjoyed his term as sheriff but urged the county to develop a more equitable form of salaries for sheriffs.

The exploding of a desperado by Bleckley County lawmen wasn't confined to James Jackson. Just four days before Christmas, some two and one half years later, Frank Hall was killed by Pomp Wiley. Hall reportedly attempted to break up a fight between Wiley and another man. Enraged at Hall's interference with his business, Wiley fired three true pistol shots into Hall's heart, killing him instantly.

Sheriff Jones and a band of fifty citizens located the accused felon, who had barricaded himself in the home of his brother-in-law. As soon as the posse came into the range of his weapon, Wiley opened fire, striking and wounding Vicar Meadows and Dewitt Morris.

While the main force kept a steady fire in Wiley's direction, a small group of men snuck around to the rear of the house. Sheriff Jones directed the men to place a charge of dynamite under the house just as his predecessor had done to keep James Jackson from killing any more people. And, not surprisingly, the plan worked with similar results - Pomp Wiley was blown up and would never, ever kill again.






WHEN DEATH CAME KNOCKING AT THE DOOR


When Death Came Knocking At The Door


It all started long before that fateful Friday, one hundred Aprils ago. Steve Thompkins and Ella Doston, it was said by those who knew them well, enjoyed the company of each other. Ella's sons, the Dean boys, increasingly grew tired of Thompkins and his bothersome ways, or so they said. It all ended with four people shot, one dead, one dying, and two hurting. All those who survived the fracas agreed on one thing, that there had been an argument. But, that's when the stories of what transpired began to differ.

Thompkins and his family lived very close to the widow Doston and her sons along the Laurens and Montgomery county line. It appeared the families got along well, especially John Dean and Sallie Thompkins, who were engaged to be married later in the year. There was this one time when Thompkins and his daughter's suitor got into a scrap, but all enmity between the two men appeared to have died out.

The Dean boys, Edgar, John, and Arthur, had entered into an arrangement with Thompkins to raise beef cows and equally split the profits. Thompkins showed up at the Dean house on a room-temperature, fair Friday afternoon just before sundown to discuss the division of the revenues.

Edgar Dean testified that his brother John got into a fuss about a different matter. Dean stated that Thompkins stomped off to the smokehouse, took the key, and proclaimed that he would sell the meat inside to satisfy the debt owed to him. Thompkins left the premises. All appeared to be settled, at least for the time being.

Mrs. Doston began the preparations for supper, while the boys discussed the matter most upmost at hand. After supper, the sons of the late James Dean sat around the fireplace discussing their next course of action. John Dean made a remark that he would not allow himself to be "run over that way all the time." It was at that very moment, just about 9:oo o'clock on that moonless evening, when Thompkins, standing by a window, was said to have stated, "You are liable to be run over worse than that right now."

Edgar Dean stated that Thompkins first went to the back door, but was refused admittance to the house. Edgar later stated, "I was lying down at the time that Thompkins spoke." Dean said, "I got up and put my pistol in my pocket and invited Steve Thompkins to come inside." The eldest of the Dean boys, in justifying his actions, maintained that he told John's future father-in-law to put up his gun as he did not want any trouble.

Edgar Dean swore that Thompkins came up the steps, his cocked pistol in his hand, and stated, "I come to play Woolfolk with the family." Thompkin's alleged remarks were a reference to the murder of nine members of the Woolfolk family in Bibb County a quarter of a century before in 1887. Those murders still rank today as the largest mass murder of a Georgia family.

Purportedly, Thompkins took aim at his antagonist, John T. Dean. Ella stood between the two combatants. Thompkins was frustrated at his attempts to shoot around his good friend Ella. After making some insulting remarks toward Ella, Thompkins was stated to have renewed the attack on John Dean.

Edgar Dean pulled out his pistol and fired at Thompkins, striking him in his shoulder. Thompkins, hardly disabled, returned two effective shots, hitting Edward in the chest, breaking his breast bone and a collar bone. Edgar fired back. Thompkins spun around and blasted John Dean and Ella Doston, both of whom were unarmed. John Dean was dead when he hit the floor. Mrs. Doston, struck with a mortal wound in her left lung, lay on the floor, paralyzed from the neck down.

After regaining his strength, Edgar Dean knocked Thompkins down onto the wooden floor. The two men wrestled until Edgar, with the aid of sixteen-year-old Arthur Dean, threw Thompkins onto a bed. Edgar and Arthur took Thompkins' .45 pistol and escorted him to the front porch, where they threw him over the banisters onto the ground. Shot, bruised and in no mood to continue the fight, Thompkins retreated back through the darkness to his home.

Laurens County Sheriff J.J. Flanders and Dublin City Court Sheriff, B.M. Grier were summoned to arrest Thompkins on charges of murder and attempted murder. The suspect told his captors that Edgar Dean shot him during the argument and that he went for his gun in self defense. He maintained that the Deans attempted to wrestle his pistol away from him and it was during that struggle that Edgar Dean, John Dean and Mrs. Doston were hit by unintended gunshots.

Two Fridays elapsed while Ella Doston lingered near death. On Friday, April 20, 1912, Ella Doston became the second victim of the highly regrettable incident. Edgar Dean, however, made a quick and remarkable recovery.

In those days, trials were amazingly swift. Within three weeks of the incident, Steve Thompkins stood trial before a jury on April 25. On the night before the trial, Sheriff Flanders narrowly averted an attempt to lynch Thompkins.

When street rumors of a lynching reached the courthouse, Sheriff Flanders personally took Thompkins out of the city under the cover of darkness. Flanders then announced that Thompkins was no longer in jail. Sure enough, and just as the sheriff expected, two of the suspected ringleaders of the lynchers showed up on the front porch of the jail just after it was good and dark outside. After satisfying themselves that Thompkins was not inside, the men left and made their way back to the river bridge were as many as one hundred accomplices were congregating.

Observers reported that the seventeen-year-old courthouse had never been more crowded. The highly sensational, all day trial lasted until ten o'clock in the evening, when the case was sent to the jury for deliberation. The jurors considered the evidence until midnight before being sequestrated to their hotel rooms. Within a hour of reconvening their deliberations the next morning, the jury sent word to the court that they had reached a unanimous verdict.

Thompkins was found guilty of two murders. As he heard the verdict against him, Thompkins stood motionless. The emotionless felon was sentenced by Judge Hawkins to be hanged by the neck until dead on Friday, May 24, 1912. Thompkins' attorneys immediately moved for an appeal to the Georgia Supreme Court. Had he been hung, Thompkins would have been only the second white man ever hung in Laurens County, the only other being Jackson Terry, who was convicted of murder in 1840.

After three successful challenges to his grand jury indictments, Thompkins stood trial for the fourth and final time on November 19. Fifty one defense witnesses would not alter the jury's decision as to his guilt, but the jury did find that Thompkins did not kill John Dean and Ella Doston with malice aforethought and that he should be guilty of manslaughter.

Judge Kendrick J. Hawkins excoriated the jury's decision calling the verdict as contrary to the facts of the case and one which was handed down because of sympathy for Thompkins family. Judge Hawkins cited sympathetic verdicts as the reason that Georgia had more murders and homicides in one year than any other state and more than the entire United Kingdom.

A second attempt to lynch Thompkins was thwarted just before Christmas while Thompkins was serving on the chain gang in a camp at Garetta, Georgia, near the geographic center of Laurens County.

When word came to the guards at the local prisoner of work camp that another lynching was going to be attempted, Thompkins was put aboard a train and transported to Eastman for safekeeping. The threat was real for shortly after Thompkins was put aboard the evening train, several buggies filled with revenge-seeking men descended upon the camp. The prisoner returned to the camp the following day and no further attempts to exact revenge were ever reported.

Eventually, Thompkins was moved to Telfair County to serve the remainder of his twenty year sentence.

Thus ended one of the bloodiest chapters in the history of Laurens County when death came knocking at the door.



DEAR UNCLE FRANK: AN INVITATION TO DIE




Dublin, Ga. Dec. 13th 1912.

Dear Uncle Frank,



Alonzo and the children is planning to go and getting ready to go to Wilkes Co next Tuesday, they will be gone three days you don't know how desolate it is out here when me and the baby is left alone. We cant all leave on account of our stock. We have plenty of lightwood ready cut. You can come In your wagon every day and get a load I will give you a good, good good dinner. Please come visit me in my loneliness. You will never regret the time. 

Alice Lynn

Route 6
Dublin, Ga.



Frank Hightower had seen death before.  As a twenty-five-year-old lieutenant in the 49th Georgia Infantry, Hightower had seen the slaughter of thousands at Gettysburg and on  the killing fields of Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville and Spotsylvania in Virginia.  When he inscribed his name to enlist in the Confederate army on March 4, 1862, Frank knew that he may die.  But, when he received an invitation to come stay with his lonely niece, Alice Lynn, Francis Marion Hightower, he never dreamed what was about to happen.

On a cool clear Tuesday morning, Frank Hightower set out to visit his niece Alice.   The Hightowers had known the Lynns for quite a while.  J.F. Colley, brother of Hightower's wife Mary, had adopted the orphaned Alice and treated her like his own daughter.  Alice married Alonzo Lafayette Lynn, a blacksmith and engineer, in 1900.  By all accounts, the Hightowers and Lynns were good friends.  Not a bad word was ever known to have been spoken between them until just a few weeks before when Mr. Hightower uttered a remark which offended his niece.  Those who heard the remark saw no reason to classify it as a reason to murder the old gray rebel.  

When Hightower arrived in his wagon at the Lynn farm house, some seven miles east of Dublin, he spoke to Tom Hart, the Lynns' neighbor.

Hightower told Lynn that he came to pick up a load of lightwood and to deliver some flour and lard as his niece had requested.

From that point on, the accounts of that day differ.  According to Mrs. Lynn, Hightower drove up to her house and she invited him in.  Lynn stated, "He took off his coat and laid it on the bed together with his hat." The seventy-four-year-old took a seat to rest in a rocking chair between the bureau and the shed kitchen door.  As she was passing by the chair on her way to the kitchen to cook dinner, Alice Lynn alleged that Hightower took her hand and commenced to insult her with the most vile suggestion.  Fearing for her safety, Alice, understandably nervous and excited,  maintained that she reached for the bureau, took a five-shot pistol and fired it until it was empty, though she could not remember just how many times she shot.   Later Alice Lynn testified, "When he came, he asked me where my husband was.  I told him he was in the field picking cotton.  He said, 'I had an excuse to come here for a load of lightwood, but I came for something else and I intend to have it.'" Alice added, "Don't bother me, you see my condition.  He then caught my hand and I shot him."


The Defense's theory - an unwarranted assault on Mrs. Lynn


It was then when Tom Hart, who was working on a well,  heard the scared screams of Mrs. Lynn about 30 minutes past noon.  Hart, along with his son,  ran as fast as they could, only to discover the horrible sight of Hightower lying on the floor,  his snow white hair saturated with bright crimson blood, his brains oozing  from  five gaping wounds to the back of his head.  Blood covered at least a third of the bedroom floor.  Interestingly, two more frontal entrance wounds were found  in his abdomen.  Hart screamed, "How did this happen?"!  Mrs. Lynn replied, "I shot him.  I had to do it; he attempted to assault me."  

Hart called out for Alonzo Lynn, who came running toward his home from a nearby cotton field across the branch.  The Lynns went to another neighbor's house to await the arrival of the sheriff.  Mrs. Lynn was already in a delicate position as she was in her last months of a pregnancy with her son Joseph.  During his trial, Lynn stated that he and Hart took Alice out of the house and began to bathe and clean her face with camphor.  Lynn testified that when his wife regained her composure she said, "I had to do it.  It looks mighty bad for Uncle Frank to impose on me as he did. I knew nothing from the time I began to shoot until I found myself seated in the chair in the yard with my husband and the neighbors gathered around me in a group."  

Lynn later told his jury that in response to his wife's story to the sheriff,  Flanders responded, "Any man who would undertake to overpower a woman, no matter what her condition, ought to be hung up and shot full of holes." 
        
Hart called Hightower's son, long time Dublin Chief of Police, J.B. Hightower.  Chief Hightower procured an automobile and asked Sheriff J.J. Flanders to accompany him to the murder scene.  Hightower immediately began to doubt his father's alleged overtures toward his adopted cousin.  The Laurens Herald called the victim "one of Dublin's oldest and most respected citizens."  Hightower was known to have lived a pure and blameless life and was one who had the respect of all who knew him, particularly for his generosity and love of little children.  Initially, Chief Hightower and those who knew his father believed that Mrs. Lynn had a nervous reaction to an innocent brush against her as she passed by.


Dr. J.L. Weddington was called to examine Hightower's body.  The doctor found five entrance wounds at the base of back of his skull and the top of the victims' neck.  All five rounds exited the body through the front of his face and throat.   

Sheriff Flanders found empty shell casings in back of the chair where Hightower was sitting and two  other shells in front of and to the side of the chair, indicating that the victim may have been shot from two different angles.  The evidence at the crime scene indicated that the shells behind the chair were splattered with blood, a clue that Hightower remained upright for a short time before falling, or being pushed, to the floor.  No evidence of a struggle could be found.  Hightower's hat was right where it was when he entered the room.  

Three days later, Frank Hightower was buried with Masonic honors near the front gate of Northview Cemetery, just up the street from his former home.  

The Lynns secured the services of George B. Davis and Stephen Parker New, two of Dublin's newest and most promising attorneys to represent them against the charges of murder at a commitment hearing on January 8, 1913. More than two weeks after the shooting, Alice Lynn was arrested.  Davis and New attempted to get their clients out of jail on  bonds.

In support of their motion, the attorneys introduced the affidavit of Lanthers Lynn, the couple's eleven-year-old daughter.  Miss Lynn swore, in a completely self-serving affidavit, that her father was in a cotton field and could not have been present at the time of the shooting.  To contradict Miss Lynn's testimony, Tom Hart signed an affidavit stating that Alonzo Lynn would have had the time to escape from the rear of the house and come  back to be the first person he saw near the house.  Hart firmly believed that neither Lynn nor anyone else could have run that fast from the cotton field, where Lynn maintained he was at the time of the shooting.  In his sworn statement, Hart recalled seeing the impression of a hand or arm in the middle of the bed as if it had been resting on the bed.   




To prove his case, Sheriff Flanders had  Detective C.W. McCall  fire four rounds from inside the Lynn house.  Flanders stood at a point, much closer than a Negro girl or Lynn were when they claimed they heard the shots being fired.  Flanders told the court that he could not hear any reports of gunfire. Superior Court Judge Kendrick J.  Hawkins found that it was Alonzo Lynn who actually wrote the  letter asking Hightower to come out to stay with his wife, who actually signed the letter.  Judge Hawkins  remanded the Lynns back to jail and set Mrs. Lynn's bond at $5,000.00 on account of her delicate condition.  




Hundreds of spectators gathered inside and outside of the Laurens County Courthouse on the Tuesday  afternoon of February 5, 1913.  Messers Davis and New immediately filed a motion to quash their clients' illegal indictment by the Grand Jury.  More than one hundred white male jurors were voir dired before a dozen were impaneled.  Arthur Graham, B.M. Lewis, A.K. Hawkins, R.M. Arnau, J.M. Jones, D.B. Bass, B.A. Hooks, John Ellington, Jerry Ussery, W.E. Silas, John Daniel, and Calvin Tyre took their seats in the crowded courtroom.  On the morning of second day of the trial, Juror Tyre fell ill.  Owing to the urgency of continuing the case, the parties agreed to proceed with eleven jurors.  

One of the state's earliest and most critical witnesses was Raymond Blash, who testified that he was in the field near the Lynn house when he saw Mr. Lynn go into his house about five minutes before the sound of gunfire.  Blash testified that after he saw Lynn run out of the house, he heard two more gunshots.    George Davis relentlessly cross-examined the damning witness.  Col. Davis attempted to show that Blash was simple-minded, a fact which was stipulated by the state.  In an attempt to  prove his claim, Davis handed Blash a watch and asked him to tell him what time it was. Blash quickly gave the correct time.  Davis continued to hammer the witness by asking, "Do you know where people went who told lies?", to which Blash quickly responded, "They will go to Hell."  Spectators in the room erupted in laughter and accord with the witnesses' profound answer.  Both sides put up witnesses to solidify or attack the character of Blash.  The state showed that he knew the value of money and that when he was not confronted, Blash could speak normally.  The defense produced one witness after another who said Blash was an undependable idiot.  



Davis and New even attacked the character of the deceased by producing witnesses who testified that they heard that victim was a deserter during the war and that this caused much consternation among the local camp of Confederate veterans.  

The state hired surveyor and city engineer, M. J. Guyton,  to survey and plat the site of the crime.  Guyton took with him a photographer from the Guarantee Photography Studio in Dublin to take photographs of scenes recreating the prosecution's theory of the murder.   The photographs you see are the actual original ones used by the state in the case. 

During their time in jail, the Lynns were subjected to subterfuge when Detective McCall secretly installed a dicta graph machine in their cell.  Listening in on their privileged conversations, McCall later told the jury that he overheard Mr. Lynn tell his wife that she should have told the authorities that Hightower held the other hand instead of the left.  McCall also stated that Mrs. Lynn said, "Oh, God!  I wish I hadn't told a lie about it."  The detective said to the jury that when he confronted the  defendants with the damning evidence, neither one of them denied his assertions.  The Atlanta detective's eavesdropping machine didn't work as well as planned.  Only a few disjointed sentences could be heard when the recording was played back, forcing McCall to testify as to what he personally heard.  

Lynn and his wife remained calm throughout the hoopla and the entire trial.  Lynn was frequently seen smiling while conversing with his attorneys.  Court room observers spotted no discernable reaction on their faces during the testimony of Dr. Weddington, who spoke of the gruesome details of Hightower's corpse.



The testimony continued through Saturday. The defense called several medical experts to prove that  Hightower was suffering from dementia.  Alonzo Lynn took the stand to make an unsworn  statement, one which could not be cross examined by the state.  In one of the longest ever made by a defendant, Lynn carefully, calmly and methodically spoke to the details of the charges against them for two hours.  He lambasted the way he was treated by Sheriff Flanders and others in the jail.  Lynn spoke of his long and solid friendship with Frank Hightower and that he would trust him anywhere at any time.   In answer to the allegation that his letter to Hightower was a lure to kill him, Lynn stated that his wife asked him to write the letter to help her during his absence, but that when the time came, he stayed home because he was too fatigued to travel.  Lynn reiterated his alibi that he was in a nearby cotton field picking cotton with his children; Lanthers, Aaron, Annie, and Janie.  He claimed he helped a Negro man roll a log in the field.  Lynn attempted to contradict the testimony of a Mr. Gibbs, who told the jury that he was in the field between the hours of ten and eleven on the morning of the shooting, by stating that he was behind a barn and could not be seen.  



Lynn went on to describe his dash to the house and his conversation with Tom Hart.  "He told me that his wife had killed Mr. Hightower to which I asked, 'which Hightower?"  When Hart replied that it was Frank Hightower, Lynn said, "Lord have mercy! I wouldn't have had it done for anything."  In closing, Lynn blamed Hart's damaging testimony as his way of acquiring Lynn's land and blamed the actual shooting on a Negro, a claim which did not coincide with his wife's claim of self-defense. 

Alice Lynn calmly made a very short statement.   She repeated her claim that her uncle attempted to sexually molest her.  Mrs. Lynn further accused Florence Flanders, the wife of the sheriff, of attempting to coerce her into confessing by threatening that she would be hung for the murder of Mr. Hightower. 

Dr. Sidney Walker was called by the state to rebut the allegations of Hightower's dementia stating that he had personally examined the victim and that he exhibited no signs of senility nor sexual insanity.  Sheriff Flanders and Charlie Hart once again repeated their testimony that during a test,  they could not hear any gunfire from the spots where witnesses testified they did hear the shots. B.A. Garrard testified that Mrs. Lynn told him that she did not know how to unbreech, load, or unload a gun and had only fired a gun once in her lifetime.  Mrs. Lynn's attorneys requested that she be allowed to demonstrate that she could do just that, which she did.  The court allowed the jurors to be excused on Sunday to attend a church as a group.  

The closing arguments began on Monday morning and  lasted more than ten hours.  All those present agreed that they were among the  most powerful pleas ever delivered in the Laurens County courthouse.  Judge John S. Adams, mesmerized the jury as he spoke only to the eleven men, detailing all of the facts of the case and applying the law to them.  Adams urged the jury to uphold the law and put justice over sympathy  for the defendants.  Davis was equally eloquent in his delivery of an oratorical gem.

For two days the jury remained hopelessly deadlocked.  After one recharge after another, the jury appeared to experts to be leaning slightly in favor of a conviction of both defendants.  


The State's theory of the murder with Lynn as the shooter from behind. 

At two o'clock  on February 13, after a week of testimony by fifty-seven witnesses and a seven-day trial, solicitor E.L. Stephens, Sr. arose from his seat, walked over to the jury foreman J.M. Jones, took and opened the folded piece of paper, and read the verdict, "We, the jury, find the defendant A.L. Lynn, guilty of murder and recommend life in the penitentiary. We find the defendant, Mrs. A.L. Lynn, not guilty."  Both defendants sat motionless.  Mr. Lynn appeared to smile just for a moment as his attorney spoke to him.  Mrs. Lynn's one instant of relief on her part was promptly replaced by contempt for the process.  Before Judge Hawkins dismissed the jury, he thanked the men for their service and their righteous verdict, one in which he wholeheartedly concurred.  


Judge Hawkins commanded Mr. Lynn to rise.  The judge, reluctantly bound to accept the jury's recommendation,  pronounced the sentence of life in prison.  After a few minutes the once teeming courtroom was quiet.  Lynn's attorneys filed a motion for a new trial.  Judge Hawkins' ruling denying a new trial was appealed to the Supreme Court of Georgia, which affirmed the trial court's decision in late July following its usual precedent of upholding the discretion of the trial jury unless unusual circumstances dictated a reversal.

Lynn would not concede his guilt.  A move was made to indict Blash for perjury in the case.  When the Grand Jury refused to issue a bill of indictment, nearly all hope for a new trial had evaporated.  An attempt was made to appeal the Georgia Supreme Court's affirmation of the verdict to the United States Supreme Court, a tactic that never materialized.  Alonzo Lynn was sent to Toombs County to spend the remainder of his life on the chain gang eighteen months after his conviction.  Alice Lynn moved to Atlanta before 1920, when she was shown as a widow in the census.  Alice lived there until her death in 1960.  



The only eye witness to the shooting was the infant Harrison Lynn.  No motive, and certainly no premeditated motive,  for murdering Uncle Frank was ever attributed to A.L. Lynn.  The verdict, by today's standards, was questionable in that it was based partly on circumstantial and often contradictory evidence, which was bolstered by now illegal eavesdropping evidence of a legally protected confidential conversation between a husband and wife.  

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In the end, it appears that the split verdict was a result of sympathy for a fine man and the expectant defendant.  Today, Uncle Frank Hightower lies in peace under the shade of  an ancient moss-draped oak.   His name and the date of his death have all but eroded away from his slab.  But, if you look closely, you can still see  scrawled in concrete,  his final engraved invitation, an invitation to die. 

     




THE LAST PUBLIC HANGING IN LAURENS COUNTY


HANG HIM

One hundred and twelve years ago  John Robinson was the most hated man in Laurens County.  His was a most depraved and horrific crime.  No man or woman, regardless of the color of their skin, could ever forgive John Robinson.   On May 24, 1901 Robinson was working on the farm of J.M. Reinhardt.  Bertha Simmons came to the field to bring lunch to her husband, Dock Simmons.   With a fishing pole in hand, Bertha announced her intentions to fish in a nearby creek that afternoon.  Robinson pointed her toward the creek.  A short time later Robinson quit working and left in the same direction.  He appeared flustered when he returned an hour later. Robinson then  went home with his wife to change clothes and head for Dublin.

Bertha Simmons didn't return home Friday night.  A search was initiated.  S.L. Padgett found her in a swamp on his adjoining plantation with a flour sack tied around her neck.  She had been strangled and had apparently been molested either before or after her death.  Robinson's knife, the most damning piece of evidence, was found by her side.

Justice of the Peace John C. Register held an inquest. The jury decided that Mrs. Simmons had been murdered by John Robinson.  Padgett's son remembered someone screaming for help that Friday afternoon.  A warrant was issued.  Gov. Candler offered a $200 reward for Robinson's arrest.  Robinson spent the night in Dublin, possibly at the home of Robert Andrews.  His wife was arrested and charged with being an accessory after the fact. While Robinson never confessed to his wife, she instinctively believed that something was wrong and that her husband was indeed the murderer. 

The largest number of cries calling for Robinson's capture came from members of the Black community.  A crowd took Robert Andrews down to the pavilion near the water works where he was whipped in order to get a confession.  The beaten man continued to deny any knowledge of Robinson's whereabouts.  The mob was still not satisfied.  Fearing for his safety, Andrews agreed to show the men where Robinson was hiding.  When it became apparent that they were being lead on a false trail, they took Andrews to the jail.  With no reason to hold him, the Sheriff allowed Andrews to go free.  Dan Williams, chairman of the local Republican party, called for a public meeting.  He urged "all colored and white citizens of our county to meet at the courthouse on June 7th to devise some means to capture Robinson."    

For two weeks the elusive Robinson remained at large.  On the 17th of June,  word got out that Robinson was down in the branch at Reidsville.  Reidsville was a neighborhood in the area around Academy Avenue and Dudley Street.  Shot after shot rang out in the midnight air.  John Robinson was gone, if he was ever there.  Alleged sightings of Robinson came in daily from all parts of the city.   Many thought that Robinson had fled immediately after the murder.  

Robinson, traveling as Zach Morgan, was arrested in Savannah in late June.  Robinson went there to seek the aid of a former railroad co-worker, Lewis James.  James went to the authorities when he discovered that his friend was a wanted man.  Sheriff J.D. Prince and Policeman J.J. Flanders traveled to the coastal city to bring the prisoner back for trial.  Robinson was quite talkative until the train reached Brewton.   Robinson was rendered speechless when he was strongly jeered by his own people at the depot.  

A slow rain began to fall as a large crowd gathered at the train depot in Dublin on the first day of July.  They all came to catch a glimpse of the villainous John Robinson.  The best seats were on top of box cars on the side tracks.  The crowd stretched from South Jefferson to Franklin Street and back up Franklin to the jail on the courthouse square.  When the train crossed the river, Robinson and the lawmen were met by Chief J.A. Peacock.  Chief Peacock personally took Robinson in a carriage directly to the jail.  The crowd rushed in.  Cries of "Thank God he's caught” and “you've got the right man" rang out.  Mrs. Robinson, with tears streaming down her face, ran to within two feet of her husband.  Robinson was stoic, refusing to look in her direction.
  
Robinson was tried and convicted on July 25th.  The verdict was never in doubt.  Judge Hart sentenced him to hang on Aug. 23, 1901.   W.S. Holly was paid a few dollars to construct a crude gallows on the M.D. and S. Railroad property near the power house.  Judge John C. Hart denied a new trial, a decision which was upheld by the Supreme Court of Georgia.   At Judge Hart's request, Judge B.D. Evans came to Dublin and ordered  Robinson be hung on January 3, 1902 between 10 and 4 o'clock.  On November 19th, jailers caught Robinson, who had broken parts of his shackles.  Rev. Norman G. McCall came to comfort Robinson on the day before his death. Robinson continued to deny his guilt.  His attorney E.L. Stephens applied to the pardoning board.  The final appeal was denied.

  It was January 3rd, John Robinson's last day on the Earth. The gallows had stood empty for nearly a half year since Robinson's trial.  Executions were supposed to be private, but  though no fence was constructed around the gallows until just days before the hanging at 10:30.  Robinson was taken from the jail  to the gallows near the pavilion on lower East Madison Street.  Around noon Robinson was led up the steps by Sheriff E.E. Hicks.  Within a few minutes it was all over.  John Robinson was dead - hanging by his neck.  Robinson's sister-in-law climbed the gallows, not out of sympathy, but for want of notoriety.  It was the last public hanging in Laurens County. 

Robinson's body was taken to the pauper's cemetery at the county poor farm where it was buried in an unmarked grave.  The next day the body was reportedly dug up and taken to Moore's Station and  put on a train.  From that point Robinson’s body may have been taken to the Atlanta College of Physicians and Surgeons for scientific study.  Poor Farm superintendent A.W. Davidson doubted the truthfulness of the reports, citing that the coffin had not been removed and there was no evidence of any disturbed soil.  No one alive today knows what ultimately happened to John Ro