by BobA. Troutt
*****
Sycamore Tales
Plea of Not Guilty
It was the summer of 1948 in Sycamore Creek, Mississippi in Anderson County. The town was so small; if you didn’t have to slow down for the bump in the road, you would miss the town. It had turned hot early that year. The spring rains were few and far apart; we needed rain badly. I remember that summer was so hot and humid that you could hardly bare it. Late in the evening we would either sit out on the porch or by an open window hoping to catch the cool summer breeze that blew in after the sun went down. At night you could hear the crickets and frogs; it was such a relaxing sound. We, the children, would catch lightning bugs and play hide-n-go seek. We loved to catch June bugs; we’d tie a string around one of their back legs and let them fly above our heads as we held on tightly to the other end of the string.
We lived back off from the main road. There was an old wagon road we used as our drive. It was used to bring cut timber from the back of the farm to the main road during logging times. Just above the house was another road that cut down through the field leading to the creek. The old log road, our drive, that went down behind the house had been closed for years. We drew our water from a well, gathered our own eggs from our chickens and our milk from the cows. In the early summer, we would pick poke salad and hunt for ginseng to use and sale. We didn’t have much nor did anyone else, at that time, in Sycamore Creek because it was one of the poorest towns in Mississippi. There weren’t any factories, only a few businesses and very few people. Why we stayed there I’ll never know. I’m sure it was because Mama and Daddy was born and raised there. Times were hard; we grew most of our food in the garden. We ate some and canned some for the winter. Daddy and some friends cut wood for winter heat. We bought lard, salt, flour and meal at the country store located not too far from the house. We’d use what little money we had to pay for it or we would trade eggs, picked berries or even ricks of wood to help pay for it. In the winter, we killed hogs and smoked the meat. We had shoulders, hams and bacon in the smokehouse behind the house. We would eat all of the hog including the chitterlings and pigs feet. Daddy would also make sausage. He’d cook the fat off the meat to make lard and make cracklings out of the skin. Mama made souse meat out of all the remaining scrap pieces; I didn’t like that too much. But, that was the south back then. We wore hand me downs, went barefoot and played in the creeks. Late at night, in the summer time, you could hear coon hunters running their dogs in the distance.
I remember the night that changed our lives like it was yesterday. Everyone was asleep when the sirens pierced through the darkness creating a haunting sound that sent chills down our spines. I wondered what it was and what on earth had happened. In only a matter of minutes, I heard the police cars as they sped down the main road and turned off onto the old wagon road leading to our house. The other police cars and ambulance took the road through the field above the house. Word spread like wildfire that a half naked white girl was found laying in the small creek that ran through the back of our farm. The police cars stopped at our house. Mama and I were already out on the porch. They got out and began asking questions; questions I didn’t like. Mama told me to go get Daddy. When I went to get him, he wasn’t anywhere around. We hadn’t seen him since supper. The officers proceeded with their questions. I asked them why they were asking all the questions. The officer let me know real quick that he was the one asking the questions. The other officer was looking around the house and peeping in the windows. Within a few minutes, he came from around the back of the house and Daddy was with him. When I saw Daddy, I ran to him and hugged him; I started crying.
Daddy looked at me and said, “Don’t cry, Butterfly, everything will be alright.”
“Where have you been, Jeremiah?” asked the officer.
Daddy looked over at him and replied, “I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.”
“Where did you go, Jeremiah?” the officer questioned.
Daddy replied back, “Down behind the house and headed back home. When I heard the sirens, I cut through the garden behind the house from off the road.”
“Can anyone verify your story, Jeremiah?” he asked.
“No, sir,” he replied. “I was alone.”
The officer shined his flashlight at Daddy’s feet. Daddy’s shoes and the bottom of his pant legs were wet and muddy.
“How did your shoes get so wet and muddy?” asked the officer.
Daddy took a deep breath and sighed, “It must have happened when I cut through the garden behind the house.”
“We haven’t had any rain in a while, Jeremiah,” he stated.
“Well,” he said, “late this evening I watered the garden from the well.”
“My Daddy is telling the truth,” I yelled.
“I understand, Butterfly, but we have to question all the possibilities,” explained the officer.
Mama stepped up behind him and said, “Jeremiah is telling the truth. I helped him water the garden.”
“Is that right, Jeremiah?”
Daddy didn’t say anything at first, but then he put his arm around Mama’s shoulders and said, “That’s right.”
I stepped up to Daddy’s defense once again, “My Daddy ain’t no liar.”
“What exactly are you insinuating?” Mama inquired. “Is he being charged with something?”
“No ma’am,” assured the officer. “But, some coon hunters found a dead woman in the creek on your land,” he said.
“Wait a minute, are you accusing Jeremiah of that girl’s death?”
“No ma’am,” interrupted the officer. “Nobody is accusing anyone of anything. We are simply asking questions at this time. We are checking around in the area to see if anyone heard or seen anything out of the ordinary,” replied the officer, “that’s all. Thank you for your time. We will be in touch,” he said as they left.
“Oh, Daddy,” I cried. “Surely they don’t suspect you.”
“Jeremiah, where in the world have you been?” questioned Mama.
“I took a walk,” he answered. “Is there anything wrong with that?”
We didn’t know it at the time, but Daddy had gone back down to the creek where he found the woman’s body. No one was there but he sensed he was being watched so he left and came back home.
“A walk in the middle of the night!” she scolded him.
“I have done nothing wrong,” he answered with a stern voice. “It’s not against the law to take a walk at night.”
It was early the next morning when I saw the police cars go down the road through the field; there were several of them. I assumed they were going to search the crime scene to see what they could find. It was around dinner when I saw them coming up through the field back to the main road. Daddy and Mama didn’t say much to each other. But, they did understand the unfortunate situation that we were in. A dead white girl found on the property of a black family stirred a lot of talk in Anderson County. It made it even worse that she had been raped. It was like waking up in a bad dream, not knowing what would happen next. Some of the neighbors came to offer their help, if we needed it, and some of them quit coming around at all because they didn’t want to get involved. But, besides it all, we would have to face it on our own. I was afraid, especially for Daddy. It was but a few days when the police came knocking on our door and asked for Daddy. I’ll never forget that day as long as I live. They put Daddy’s hands behind his back and placed handcuffs around his wrists. I started crying and holding onto him, but another officer pulled me off him.
Mama cried out, “Take your hands off our child!” As tears filled her eyes, she turned to Daddy, “Jeremiah it’s going to be alright.”
I held onto Mama as they escorted him to the police car. The policeman told Mama that they were taking him in for questioning and he was not being charged at the time with anything. As Mama and I stood in the yard watching them leave, I knew from it all
that things would never be the same again.
Mama fell to her knees and cried, “Oh, my God.”
I tried to comfort her; I knew she would never let it go. From that day on, my Daddy turned hard against life. I guess, in some ways, I did too. But, I always believed my Daddy was innocent and I didn’t care what evidence they had. In my heart and eyes, it would be easy for him to make a plea of not guilty.
They interrogated Daddy and held him until the next day. The police had found Daddy’s pocket watch at the creek near her body. It was the watch I gave Daddy last Christmas. The watch was found partially covered with mud on the bank of the creek and the broken chain dangled in the water. Daddy told them he must have lost it when he was hunting for ginseng. The watch was splattered with drops of blood and her blood was on the ground everywhere. There was a cut on her forehead, but that wasn’t the cause of death; her throat had been cut. Her name was Billie Duncan, the daughter of Jimmy Duncan. According to the obituary, they had just moved to Sycamore Creek a few months before she was killed. She had been murdered around 8:45 that Friday morning. The coon hunters found her body around eleven o’clock that Friday night. The girl had a fractured skull; the police assumed she was hit in the head with a rock from the creek, but the rock was never found. She was bound; her hands and feet had been tied. She was also gagged. Her breasts were covered with bite marks and her nose had been broken.
The police received an anonymous phone call which helped the investigation. The caller stated that he had seen Daddy running out of the woods toward his house around 8:15 that Friday morning. The caller said he was driving down the road when he saw Daddy running and as long as he had known him he had never seen him move so fast. The police presented the startling new evidence to the DA and they arrested Daddy. He was charged with second degree murder.
It’s true; Daddy was in the woods that day when the girl was killed. I found that out when I visited him in prison; he was hunting ginseng down by the creek. He heard someone coming through the woods so he ran and hid behind some trees and bushes. When he peeped out, he saw three white boys and a white girl. She was blindfolded, gagged and her hands were tied behind her back. The boys were laughing and acting like they were on something, probably drunk. They horsed around with her as they pushed and knocked her around. He then looked down the stream trying to figure out a way to get out of the situation. When he saw them turn the other way, he got the opportunity to slip back up the creek. He didn’t think they saw him, but they must have. He was afraid to tell me what happened after that. He was sure the girl was still alive when he left. Only the Lord knows what happened after that. Daddy said he was extremely troubled after that, even to the day he died; he was never quite the same. The haunting of the girl paid a big toll on him. He told me he was raised to stay out of other people’s business, especially white people’s trouble. There ain’t too many white people who would listen to a black man’s advice. But, Daddy told me many times if he had it to do over, he would have done things differently. That night Daddy went for a walk he was bothered by what he had seen earlier in the day. He made the second trip down to the creek to see if she was still there. When he arrived, she was all alone. The upper part of her body lay on the bank and the other part was in the creek. He said he cried out for God to forgive him. Then he said he heard some dogs coming and he took off running back to the house. When he reached home, the police were there; it was 11:30 that Friday night.
The next few weeks were terrible. It seemed like they was rushing through things to get the trial over with. The trial date was set and it rolled around so quickly. Daddy’s lawyer didn’t have enough time to prepare a proper defense for him. They had already started selecting a jury. Daddy’s court appointed lawyer didn’t act like he had too much sense. Mama and I tried to get enough money to retain a good lawyer for Daddy but they were so expensive; we couldn’t afford it. Yes, the trial was the talk of the town. A black man had raped and killed a white girl. The trouble was everyone was so busy running their mouths that they didn’t want to hear the truth,
I didn’t know until years later that one of the white inmates had threatened Daddy. He told me that certain people were watching him and us, his family. And that a group had their eyes and ears open on how Daddy was going to handle the trial. He let him know how pretty Mama and I were; he told him he hoped nothing happened to us. Daddy was terrified and feared for our safety as well as his. He didn’t have time to respond to the white inmate before the jailer came in and told the man he was free to go. Daddy told me as the man left he turned and told him that he would see him around and that he was counting on him. Daddy knew where he was coming from. Inside he hurt over it all, but he knew he had to be careful. He didn’t want to jeopardize me and Mama. He told me if anything ever happened to me and Mama he wouldn’t be able to bare it because we were all he had in this world. He said he thought many times about what his daddy always said and that was to stay out of white people’s business. He respected his daddy and understood. But how in the hell can a person stay out of it when they put you in the middle of it. Then he reached up for the bars and cried out.
“Oh, my God, what in God’s name am I going to do?”
Daddy also told me, when I visited him in prison, that the cards were stacked against him. He had heard the judge and DA were members of the Klan, but he had no way of proving it. It was the judge’s grandson, Larry Gene, the DA’s boy, Douglas Neal and some other boy by the name of John Allen that brought the girl to the woods that day. But, Daddy didn’t see them kill her. I wanted to tell everything he had told me so bad to help set Daddy free, but he made me swear not to tell anyone, not even Mama. I always respected him. I told him I loved him and I wouldn’t tell a soul. He told me that no matter what happened to take care of Mama. As I cried, I kissed him and hugged him tight because I knew it wouldn’t be good.
The days passed and the day of Daddy’s trial finally came. The courthouse was filled to the brim. They had moved the trial to the county seat in Tupelo. People came from miles around; they were even standing along the walls of the courtroom. Daddy and his lawyer, Jimmy Bennett, sat at the table to the right and the DA, Douglas Martin, sat at the table to the left. Mama and I sat in the courtroom and nervously waited for the trial to start. Finally, the bailiff entered the courtroom.
“All rise,” he stated, “Honorable JB Clark presiding. Hear ye, hear ye the state of Mississippi vs. Jeremiah Williams is now in session, docket #7325421-0. You may be seated; please remove all hats.”
As the lawyers went forth to the judge’s bench he talked to them both. We don’t have any idea what was said. But when they returned to their seats, the DA opened the trial with his opening remarks.
“Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, we have here before us Jeremiah Williams. He is on trial for the brutal murder of Billie Duncan, a young girl who had her whole life before her. We have evidence that her life was ended too soon by the hands of Mr. Williams. She was a pretty girl and well liked. She is greatly missed by her family and friends, she was so much like our own daughters; she was full of life and vigor. She had the world at her fingertips. Her life was suddenly cut short by the hands of a sick man, Mr. Williams. Jeremiah, who claims to be innocent, was seen by an eyewitness running from the murder scene. Not only that but the police found his pocket watch only inches from her body, an engraved pocket watch with his daughter’s name on it and inscribed with To Daddy with love, Butterfly. My job is to present you with the facts and evidence of this case. I hope that you will agree without a doubt that Jeremiah Williams is guilty of aggravated second degree murder. I only ask that when you have heard all the evidence that you will show no mercy on him, just like he showed no mercy on Miss Billie Duncan. Oh, yeah, I failed to mention Miss Duncan’s head was bashed in and her throat was cut which was the cause of death. Thank you, jurors, for your time.”
Mr. Ben
nett stood and went before the jury for his opening remarks. You could tell he was nervous and it appeared he hadn’t done this too many times.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my client, Jeremiah Williams, is a good and decent man. He has lived around here all of his life and has never been in trouble with the law before. So, why on earth would he do it now? Well, he wouldn’t and he didn’t because he is not guilty of the charges that are set before him. Yes, Mr. Williams was in the woods that day; he was hunting ginseng, not murdering Billie Duncan. Yes, his watch was found but we all have lost things before. Yes, it was a Christmas present from his daughter, it’s no denying that. But, I do not agree that he murdered Billie Duncan just because his watch was found near her body. Like I say, such as the watch, time will tell as we get to the bottom of this case. The truth is that Jeremiah Williams is not guilty and should go back home with his family. Everyone has doubted his plea of not guilty. But, I appear before you, jurors, to study the evidence of this case with an open mind so that the truth will come forth and be revealed. Then Mr. Williams and his family can go home, put this tragic event behind them and hopefully return to their normal life while the real killer or killers is found and brought to justice. Surely, the right thing can be done here in this courtroom today. Thank you.”
“Is the prosecution ready to call its first witness?” asked the judge.
“Yes, your Honor, I am,” replied the DA. “But first I would like to present evidence A-1, the blood splattered pocket watch of Jeremiah Williams, to the court. The hawkbill pocket knife, the murder weapon, and the rock were never found. Now, your Honor, I call Jimmy Duncan to the stand.”
(He was sworn in).
“Mr. Duncan, what relationship are you to Billie Duncan?” asked the DA.
“I’m her father,” he replied.
“Now, Mr. Duncan on the day Billie’s body was found (Friday I believe), did you see her that day?” the DA asked.
“No, sir,” he replied. “I left that morning before she got up and she didn’t come home that night.”
“Did you know where she was?” asked Mr. Martin.
“No, sir, not really,” he replied. “But it was unusual for Billie. She always let me know what she was doing and where she was going, except that day.”
“You and Billie moved here not long ago,” the DA stated, “after your wife died.”
“I object,” said the defense. “Mr. Martin is fishing and I don’t know where he’s leading the witness.”
“Objection overruled,” replied the judge. “Make your point, counselor.”
“Your Honor, I am trying to establish that Billie Duncan was a good girl, well liked and from a good family background who fell prey to an animal.”
“I object,” cried the defense. “He is summing up my client with his own opinion.”
“Objection overruled,” replied Judge Clark.
“No further questions, your Honor,” said the DA.
“You can cross examine, Mr. Bennett.”
“I have no questions for Mr. Duncan. But, for what it’s worth, I do believe Billie was a good girl, Mr. Duncan,” he said. “That’s all, your Honor.”
“Prosecution, you may call your next witness.”
“I call Officer Wendell Gray.”
(He was sworn in.)
“Now, Officer Gray on the night in question, did you go to Mr. Williams’ home?” asked the DA.
“Yes, we did,” he said.
“What did you find?” the DA probed.
“Well, when we arrived Mr. Williams was not at home. We talked with his wife and daughter,” he stated. “But, they didn’t know where he was,” he said.
“Did Mr. Williams finally show up?” asked the DA.
“Yes, sir,” replied the officer. “When we asked him where he had been he said he had taken a walk because he couldn’t sleep.”
“And what time was that?” questioned the DA.
“About 11:30 p.m.,” replied the officer.
“Was there anything unusual about him?” asked the DA.
“Yes, sir, he had mud on his pants and shoes and the bottom of his pants were wet,” answered Officer Gray.
“I object,” yelled Mr. Bennett. “The DA is calling for a conclusion.”
“Objection sustained,” replied the judge. “Mr. Martin, rephrase your question.”
“Was it raining that night or had it rained earlier in the day?” the DA asked.
“I object!” shouted Mr. Bennett.
“No further questions,” replied the DA.
“You may cross examine, Mr. Bennett,” said the judge.
“Officer Gray, you said you saw mud and water on Mr. Williams’ clothes and shoes,” stated Mr. Bennett. “Did you see any blood on him?”
“No, sir,” replied the officer.
“If my client had raped and murdered Ms. Duncan, don’t you think there would have been some traces of blood somewhere?” Bennett questioned.
“Yes, sir, I guess,” the officer replied.
“One other question for you Officer Gray, you said that Mr. Williams had no blood on him. Yet, there was blood on his pocket watch. My theory is Mr. Williams lost his watch when he was ginseng hunting down by the creek. The watch was splattered with Ms. Duncan’s blood when she was killed, not by my client, but by someone else.”
“I object,” cried the DA. “He’s leading the witness.”
“Objection sustained,” replied Judge Clark. “Be careful, counselor, don’t put words in his mouth.”
“No further questions at this time,” said Mr. Bennett. “But, if needed, I may call him back for further questioning.”
The trial went on and on, as each lawyer called their witnesses. Finally, the judge called for a recess. We got a short break for lunch but it was hard to relax. I saw Daddy as he was getting up; I blew him a kiss. I think it cheered him up because a slight smile came across his face. He looked so alone and abandoned during the trial. I could tell he had all that he could bare at the time. Mama and I tried to be strong for him, but sometimes the burden seemed more than we could bear. After lunch, around one o’clock, the court reconvened.
The DA’s first witness after recess was one of the coon hunters. There was no need to call the other coon hunters because all their stories had been collaborated. And that was that they had come up on the girl’s body at the creek, where they were running their dogs. I didn’t I know the coon hunters and the three boys were the same people. Larry Gene, the judge’s grandson, Douglas Neal, the DA’s son and John Allen, a close friend. It was John Allen who made the anonymous tip. He reported that he saw Daddy running from the woods about 8:15 that morning. The DA called John Allen to the stand.
(He was sworn in.)
“That morning when you were coming down the road, you said you saw Jeremiah Williams running out of the woods toward his house,” said the DA.
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “He was getting it.”
“Did you see anyone else with him?” asked the DA.
“No, sir,” answered John Allen.
“About how far was it from where you saw Jeremiah running out of the woods to where you found the body?” asked the DA.
“It wasn’t far; I would say only a few feet,” he answered.
“Objection, your Honor, Mr. Allen is no expert on this matter, it is all speculation,” cried Mr. Bennett.
“Objection sustained,” replied Judge Clark. “Have that last remark stricken from the records.”
“No more questions, your Honor,” said the DA.
“You may cross examine, counselor,” instructed the judge.
“I have no questions,” replied Mr. Bennett. “But, your Honor, I’d like to call Sheriff Roger Long to the stand. He is my only character witness.”
(He was sworn in.)
“Sheriff Long, you deal with all kinds of people in your line of business,” stated Mr. Bennett.
“Yes, I do,
” he replied.
“From the best of your ability and your experience dealing with criminals, off the record, how does Jeremiah Williams appear to you?” asked Mr. Bennett.
“I don’t believe he would be capable of committing such a crime,” he stated. “However, I do believe he knows more than he’s telling.”
“I object,” shouted the DA. “First of all Sheriff Long is not a criminal psychiatrist. He is speculating the ability of Mr. Williams which is his opinion. If I’m not mistaken, he has been friends with Mr. Williams for years.”
“Objection sustained,” said the judge. “Sheriff Long is only a character witness and he is friends with Mr. Williams. Let the record show that Sheriff Long is only a character witness, not a professional witness. You may go on, Mr. Bennett.”
“That’s all I have, your Honor,” responded Mr. Bennett.
“Do you have any questions for Sheriff Long?” the judge asked the DA.
“Just one,” replied the DA. “With your experience, Sheriff Long, in the criminal field, have you ever been wrong about a person?”
“Yes, I have but…,” he replied.
“It is a yes or no question,” stated the DA. “Answer one or the other.”
“Yes…I…,” he replied.
“No further questions, your Honor. The prosecution rests.”
The trial went on for three days and at the end of the third day, the jury went out to deliberate. During the trial, Mama had become sick and was bedridden. I tried to take care of her and support Daddy at the trial. But, it was hard. During the trial, I watched the juror’s faces as the lawyers presented their cases and so did Daddy. I often wondered what was going through their minds. What they would believe was my million dollar question. Mr. Bennett did a lot better job than I thought he would. It only took the jury an hour and a half to reach the verdict. That definitely was not a good sign. When the jury came back into the courtroom, I felt a cold chill from within me. I expected the worse and it was. The jury foreman stood, along with Daddy and his lawyer as the verdict was read. Daddy was found guilty of aggravated murder in the second degree. My heart stopped and my eyes filled with tears as I screamed out for Daddy. He turned toward me but the court officer grabbed him by the arm and led him back to the jail. My legs trembled and my hands shook as my heart cried out oh, my God, why. God didn’t answer; I was dumbfounded. All I could hear was the sound of the courtroom doors swinging as the people left. Daddy’s fate rested in the hands of twelve jurors, eight men and four women, all white; two of them were members of the KKK. It would be several years later when I learned that Daddy’s guilty verdict hinged on the sway of two votes.
Two weeks later, I saw Daddy again at his sentencing hearing. The judge gave him twenty-five to thirty years for aggravated second degree murder. He would be eligible for parole in twenty years.
After Daddy went to prison, it turned him hard toward life. He let it eat at him; it almost destroyed him. I knew in my heart Daddy was innocent and I was determined that I was going to clear his name, regardless of what it would take. I hired Mr. Bennett to help me clear my Daddy’s name. But, he wouldn’t take any money. He, too, believed Daddy was innocent. He could only work on it in his spare time, but he said he would find out the truth.
Mama’s health was failing; each day she went down more and more. She could never let go of what happened to Daddy. In a way, she just gave up; she didn’t want to live without Daddy. I’ll never forget the day she died. I had just picked some beans from the garden and I was out on the front porch breaking them when Auntie Mae screamed out for me. It was a blood curdling cry. Auntie Mae was Daddy’s sister; she had come to live with us to help take care of Mama. I dropped the beans and ran into the house. Mama was gone; she had taken her last breath. She lay so still and peaceful. I began to cry, but I knew she was better off; Auntie Mae came over and held me in her arms in what seemed like forever. She comforted me and repeatedly told me that Mama was at peace and resting now. That she was in God’s hands. I’ll always remember the summer of 1956 when Mama died.
Auntie Mae and I got in touch with Daddy; he took Mama’s death hard. He was filled with so much anger and hatred that he couldn’t let go of his tears. After Mama’s burial, I went to live with Auntie Mae.
I went as often as I could to visit Daddy. We were always glad to see each other. We talked about a little bit of everything, especially what had happened. Daddy had been in the hole several times. They tried to break him, but they couldn’t. In 1951, Daddy finally decided to come forth with the truth.
Mr. Bennett worked on Daddy’s appeal, but it was a slow process. Every time he presented Daddy’s appeal before the Board of Appeals, he was always turned down by some technicality. It was like they were holding him there to keep the truth from coming out. He even tried to make a motion for a new trial, but it was denied. When the word got out that Daddy was ready to talk it opened up a can of worms and also cost him his life. In 1958, Daddy was killed in a fight in the laundry room. Two men jumped him and stabbed him several times. Rumor had it that the KKK set it up for him to be killed, to keep their secrets hidden. But, they didn’t know Daddy had told me a little about what he had seen that day at the creek when I visited him. Unfortunately, I didn’t believe it was enough to be concrete. I told Mr. Bennett everything Daddy had told me and he got to work on it immediately.
It would be two more years after Daddy’s death when we got the big break we so longingly hoped for. John Allen, one of the three boys at the creek that day, came to me and Mr. Bennett with the truth of what had happened the day Billie Duncan was killed. He told us that he couldn’t live with the murder and lies anymore. He let us know that it was Larry Gene, Douglas Neal and him that killed Billie Duncan. Daddy was at the creek when they were coming through the woods. He took off running when he saw them and Billie was still alive when he left. Larry Gene and Douglas Neal were young members of the KKK. Their daddies, Judge Clark and the DA, Mr. Martin, were high officials in the KKK at the time and took care of them. Even two of the jurors were members. Daddy never stood a chance. I had heard earlier, before the trial, that the KKK sent threats to Daddy threatening to harm me and Mama. I didn’t know for sure, at the time, if it was true or not. But, John Allen’s statement verified that it was so. After we met with John Allen, Mr. Bennett contacted the authorities and an APB was put out for Larry Gene and Douglas Neal.
With the new evidence, Mr. Bennett went to Jimmy Duncan, Billie’s dad, and explained exactly what had happened. Jimmy was relieved to finally know the truth and have some peace. He apologized to Mr. Bennett and me. He and Mr. Bennett had been friends for years until he represented Daddy at the murder trial. He held it against him for representing Daddy. But, at last they were friends again.
It was early one morning in 1960 when Mr. Bennett was getting ready to leave to go to the state attorney office in Jackson. When he got into his car and turned the key, it blew up; it killed him instantly. When Mr. Duncan heard the news, he knew what had happened. Luckily, Mr. Bennett had given me a copy of all the paperwork on the case just in case something happened to him. After Mr. Bennett’s death, Mr. Duncan told me that Mr. Bennett had been receiving threats every since the day he took Daddy’s case. Mr. Duncan and I rode up to Jackson where the NAACP had an office. We went to them with Mr. Bennett’s file on the case and filled them in on everything we knew for sure. In a matter of hours, the NAACP had taken action. John Allen was already in custody and they saw that Larry Gene and Douglas Neal were brought in.
The new trial for the murder of Billie Duncan was held in Jackson, Mississippi at the State Building. In 1961, Larry Gene, Douglas Neal and John Allen were found guilty of aggravated first degree murder, kidnapping and rape. Larry Gene and Douglas Neal received the death penalty and John Allen, by coming forth with the truth, received life without parole. Larry Gene was executed in 1963 and Douglas Neal w
as scheduled for execution in 1964. The bombing of Mr. Bennett’s car went unanswered. The two men who killed Daddy were transferred to another facility and were later found dead; their deaths were ruled accidental.
***
Two years later, after Butterfly cleared her Daddy’s name she died peacefully in her sleep. She was laid her to rest beside her Daddy and Mama in a small graveyard in Sycamore Creek, Mississippi. Mr. Duncan took care of the arrangements and the following inscription was engraved on her marker.
Kathleen “Butterfly” Williams
1936-1965
The proud daughter of Jeremiah Williams
Mr. Duncan visited the graveyard often and brought flowers.
*****
Beyond the Truth
A Cry in the Wind
Thistles and Thorns
Dead Limbs and Leaves
Troubled Waters
When Autumn Falls
When Time Was
Bittersweet
