The following day Juanita paid a visit to the First American Bank of Jacksonville Texas where she discussed the value and potential sale of “The Farm Produce Store.” The bank assistant manager, Mr. Grover Beckwith, not only helped the pretty lady assess the value of the store, but out of kindness, he found a local businessman to take the store off her hands.
Juanita, of course, was no fool. She knew before walking into the bank what price she expected to get for the store, and she also knew that, looking her most attractive, she would get a senior representative who would do his best to “lend a hand” and help her find a buyer who would give her a “fair price.”
The businessman that Mr. Beckwith introduced Juanita to took a good look at the store and several good looks at Juanita and made an offer that was considerably more than the price the banker thought the store was worth. Juanita, to Mr. Beckwith’s surprise, smiled broadly and declined the offer, to which the gentleman naturally countered. The negotiation continued over a delightful lunch at the only steakhouse in Jacksonville, where Juanita eventually agreed to a price that was ten percent more than she had hoped and thirty percent more than the stupid banker thought the store was worth.
Juanita split the proceeds three ways. Twenty-five percent went to Sarah and twenty-five percent went to Marie since the two of them had managed the business and, frankly, were the reason it had done so well. The other half went to an account Juanita kept for Mr. Horace McCracken Hamilton. Again, Juanita was no fool. One does not skim on business partners, especially those who claim to be in the lumber business but were actually bootleggers.
Sarah and Marie were given a month to find a place to go, but for the time being they could continue living in the apartment while they helped the transfer of ownership. Juanita, of course, had to go back to her real work. Businesses like The Farm didn’t manage themselves.
A little before midnight on the same day the sale was finalized, “Miss Delilah’s Tomato Farm” was raided by Texas Rangers, Texas state highway patrol officers, and United States Treasury investigators. Everyone in the house was taken to jail. As it turned out, Mr. Horace McCracken Hamilton, who happened to be in the house at the time, was the subject of an ongoing investigation into his finances. Mr. Hamilton, of course, had legal representation and was released on bail almost immediately.
The ladies who worked at the farm were not quite so fortunate. Because Mr. Hamilton had been making some headlines as a result of his bootlegging connection, the judge was not so quick to let them go. Normally they might spend a night or two in jail, but under the circumstances each of the ladies of “The Maydelle Tomato Farm” were sentenced to six months at the Goree Unit of the Texas prison system outside Huntsville.
Almost all of the men arrested at the raid were released within hours, the judge not wanting to destroy any of their reputations for a simple lapse of good judgment. Only two men received any jail time, and those two, Peterson and Richard Crawford, would have been released had they not tried to escape from the raid by attempting to fight off the officers. Assaulting an officer of the law would have gotten both of them at least six month to a year in the state penitentiary, but after hitting a state patrolman Richard grabbed a Texas Ranger from behind while his brother smashed a wooden chair across his face, breaking his nose. As a result the two were given five years each in the Eastham Unit near Weldon.
For Juanita, the consequences of the raid at the farm were far worse. Though Mr. Hamilton received half of the profits as the Treasury Department Investigators concluded, the title to the property was in her name, and therefore the business belonged to her. That did not stop the Treasury Department from confiscating all of her property and bank deposits in their investigation of Hamilton. Thus she had no money for representation. So, two weeks to the day after the raid at “The Maydelle Tomato Farm,” Juanita Carrillo Burney pleaded guilty to charges of prostitution and money laundering and was given a ten-year sentence at the Goree Unit of the Texas Prison System.
Sarah, upon hearing about the raid, tried repeatedly to visit her mother in jail, but Juanita refused the visits in an effort to shield her daughter from any connection to the farm. But then, three months after arriving at the little prison farm, Juanita received her first and only visitor during her incarceration. Eduardo Carrillo made the trip to the Goree unit to see his daughter. During the visit Juanita sat stone-faced across a table while her father told her how disappointed he was in her and that he hoped she realized how much shame she had brought upon the family. He continued to tell her that there would be no help from her family when she was released.
She never mentioned to Mr. Carrillo that he had a beautiful granddaughter.
Twenty-four hours later Sarah Burney received a telegram informing her that her mother was dead. She made repeated attempts to get someone at the prison to tell her what had happened to her mother, but she was simply told that her mother had taken her own life.
With the money Sarah and Marie got from the sale of the store, the two women settled in the small but prosperous town of Elza, south of Jacksonville and east of Rusk. On Main Street across from the movie theater they opened another produce store. Sarah went to all of the neighboring farmers and cut deals to sell their crops. This business was much smaller than the one in Jacksonville, but they made enough money to survive and live comfortably in the apartment above. The two women attended church on Sundays, and on Saturdays they walked across the street to see the movies. Life, for a time, was good.
One afternoon a new farmer walked into the store asking to do business. He was quite a few years older than Sarah and seemed extremely shy. This behavior baffled the girl who had little experience with men, especially potential suitors, and even less with shy ones. He explained that he had recently been discharged from the army and had moved into his parent’s old place on the edge of town. She naturally signed the man up and began selling his corn, potatoes, and collard greens.
For the next two years he came into the store at least once a week. He always had on clean overalls with his hair slicked back, and he always kept his head down and had trouble looking Sarah in the eye. Marie saw from the start that the man was in love, but Sarah couldn’t believe that it was possible given that he had hardly spoken more than a dozen words since she’d met him. Still he continued to come, and finally one day he swallowed up all of his nerve and asked Sarah to go to the movies with him. The following Saturday night Sarah Burney and Irwin Stoker went on their first date. Four weeks later, when he walked her across the street after their fourth date, he asked her to marry him.
Sarah didn’t know what to say and asked if she could have a few days to think about it. She immediately ran upstairs to tell Marie, who had already surmised that it would happen. Sarah was terrified, but Marie argued that he was a good man who worked hard and would take care of her into her old age. So the next Saturday night Sarah agreed to become Mrs. Irwin Stoker, and two months later at the courthouse in Rusk the two, with Marie as a witness, became husband and wife.
Before they married, Irwin insisted that Sarah would not work, so she and Marie began the process of closing. Marie made arrangements to go live with her sister in Houston. They each shed many tears and promised to stay in touch. They exchanged letters every few weeks until about a year later when Sarah received word that Marie had passed away.
A few days before the wedding, a woman had come to town to buy the store building. Her name was Anna-Ruth Crawford. She told Sarah that her husband was away in the army, and she wanted to open a dress shop so that when he got out they would have a little business to get them started. Sarah sold her the building and promised to come by and visit right after she and Irwin got settled in.
About a week after the wedding day, Sarah dropped by with some freshly picked cucumbers to welcome Anna-Ruth to Elza. Anna-Ruth had not yet opened her store but had moved into the apartment, and she invited her new friend up for a cup of coffee. As
they sat at the tiny kitchen table sipping coffee Sarah noticed a picture hanging on the wall. Her heart stopped. She felt a cold chill run through her and almost dropped her cup. Somehow she kept her composure enough to not reveal her feelings as she looked at the picture of Peterson Crawford. Anna-Ruth saw Sarah looking at the picture and took it off the wall and showed it to her. She said that it was her husband who was away in the army.
Sarah had never made the connection with the last name of Crawford. She had probably seen it in the paper, but it never occurred to her that he was Anna-Ruth’s husband. She did know that he wasn’t in the army. After the raid at the farm, she and Marie had kept an eye on the newspapers. One article mentioned the two brothers who were sentenced to five years for assaulting a Texas Ranger. Above the article were two small pictures of the men. At the time she was relieved because she knew that she and Marie would move and she’d probably never see Richard and Peterson Crawford ever again.
Sarah tossed and turned all that night. Sooner or later the two men she feared most would be right there in little Elza. She was fraught with despair. Should she tell Irwin? He would surely protect her, but then she would have to tell him about The Farm. Would he understand that she never worked there? Would he believe her?
After two sleepless nights she sat her new husband down and told him where she grew up. Irwin was infuriated. She never got to the part where she told him about Mr. Crawford and his brother. From that moment on he hated her and everything about her. He began to drink, and from time to time, in fits of anger, would strike her. Their life was that of two people who shared a house and a bed but never love. She did all that was expected of a farm wife, and he put food on the table. He worked the fields and rarely spoke to his wife.
A little over a year later Jewel Stoker was born. Irwin, who had so little love for his wife, had nothing but love for his baby girl. Sarah, who until then had so little reason to live suddenly had every reason to live.
That same day, unbeknownst to Sarah, Peterson Crawford and his brother Richard were paroled from prison.
Chapter 10
301 RED OAK AVE. ELZA TEXAS
12:00 p.m. November 19, 1941
Jesse and Gemma slowly climbed the steps to the porch and approached the front door of the house. Jesse was wearing the same jeans and t-shirt he’d had on the day Brewster and Jefferson arrested him. Gemma was wearing her best Sunday dress. There were some cars out front, and Jesse prepared himself for what he knew was going to be a difficult encounter.
The two days with Cherokee-One-Leg had mostly been spent trying to figure out what had happened and who had killed Cliff. Both he and Cherokee missed their friend and had shed some tears, but they also knew that there was work to be done; they knew that business they had hoped was long-since behind them had come back and cost Cliff his life. Cherokee blamed himself. Deep down he knew that the things from the past weren’t finished. The boys had been too young at the time to understand, but he knew better. Inside he knew that they should have told everything to the Texas Ranger years ago, but that would have hurt the two people Jesse cared for most`, so he wouldn’t allow it then, and he wouldn’t allow it now.
It was Cherokee who had come up with a plan. Jesse was determined to be at Cliff’s funeral and, of course, so would the C.A. and some sheriff’s deputies.
After Jesse left his office with Corporal McKinney, and after the C.A. had left, Jefferson went to Gemma and told her that Jesse was hiding. She didn’t have to think about it to know where he was. Cherokee-One-Leg was Jesse’s one and only hero. Whenever Jesse had a problem, no matter how big or small, he always went to Cherokee.
It had taken several years for Gemma to understand the relationship Jesse had with the old black man. In a small East Texas town in the 1930’s, you rarely saw a young white boy even speaking to old black men, let alone run and hug them as if they were long lost uncles. But as Gemma began to see the relationship Jesse had with his parents, she slowly understood. In the same way that Cliff’s dad had taken the place of a father to Jesse, Cherokee took the place of a grandfather. She had heard, through the Elza gossip mill, how Jesse’s real grandfather had killed himself before Jesse was born because he’d had some connection to a prostitution business. Naturally, as a boy, Jesse was drawn to the old man who was part Indian and had fought in wars, not to mention that he wore an alligator’s tooth around his neck. As they grew to adulthood, Jesse and Cliff had come to love the man as if he was family.
Gemma, of course, was a little afraid of an old man who rarely smiled and always seemed a bit gruff. He was kind to her, of course, but distant. She especially could not understand why Jesse put so much faith in him. But Jesse was steadfastly insistent upon spending as much time as he could with the old soldier rather than with his father’s lawyers. On that point Jesse was unyielding. He constantly reassured Gemma, “Don’t worry, Cherokee will know what to do.”
Jesse was nervous when he reached for the doorknob. He expected there to be lawyers, of course. It was possible that there would be sheriff’s deputies. Sooner or later he was going to have to face them, but what made him the most nervous was that behind the door was his mother.
Gemma had come by Monday after seeing Jesse to tell them, as per his specific instructions, that she had heard from him and that he was okay and would come home soon. He had specifically told her not to say that she had seen him. If she did, his mother and his father’s lawyers would not leave her alone. None of this information sat well with Garvis, but there was nothing she could do, which irritated her all the more.
Gemma knew that she wasn’t one of Garvis Rose’s favorite people. Garvis was always exceptionally kind and polite when Gemma was around, but venom has a way of working its way out, and Gemma had felt the bite of Garvis Rose more than once. When she was younger Gemma tried especially hard to be accepted by Garvis, and it bothered her that Mrs. Rose seemed to look down upon her. But in time she had learned that Jesse had little regard for his mother’s opinions. Conversely, he had the highest regard for Cliff’s parents’ opinions, and Mrs. Tidwell treated Gemma like she was a daughter.
Sure as he expected, when he opened the door, Garvis wrapped her arms around him, sobbing and insisting that he should not have hidden out from them. Jesse simply accepted the rebuke. He’d been dealing with Garvis all of his life and knew that there was no point in fighting over something as minor as this. There would be other fights before the day was over.
Also as expected, the house was full of lawyers, all anxious and happy to meet Jesse and all assuring him that he had little to worry about. The C.A.’s case was far too weak, and they were confident that they could keep him from spending a single night behind bars.
Jesse went upstairs to take a bath and dress for the funeral while Garvis and Gemma made sandwiches for Murdock and the lawyers. When Jesse returned, he grabbed a quick bite and then announced that he and Gemma were leaving for the funeral. Garvis, naturally, protested. She insisted they would attend the service as a family, and afterward he would surrender to the sheriff or C.A., with his lawyers present, of course. The lawyers would negotiate with the C.A. to allow Jesse to return home and await the arraignment and, heaven forbid, trial.
Jesse had other plans.
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TIDWELL FAMILY FARM
ELZA, TEXAS
3:54 p.m. November 19, 1941
Cherokee County Attorney Nathaniel Cockwright was furious. Nothing had gone as planned. First, the family of the deceased refused to allow him into their home before the funeral. Cockwright had met with this poor family immediately after that stupid Texas ranger and idiot police chief had let the murderer run away right out of their jail. Actually, that wasn’t an accurate description of what had happened. Those two fools released him and sent him away as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Then, during his first meeting with the family, as Nathaniel assured t
hem that the kid who had killed their son would get the electric chair, the father, in an excellent display of how the uneducated think, insisted that the fugitive was not the killer and that Nathaniel was after the wrong man. The father seemed to think that somewhere out there was some unknown assailant. Obviously he had been talking to that incompetent police chief, even though he claimed he hadn’t. Nathaniel, naturally, understood the delusion the man was under. In all small towns, Elza being no exception, everyone knew one another. It was understandable that they would have trouble accepting that one of their own was capable of committing such a crime. From all the interviews that his two deputies had conducted, not a single person in Elza believed that this Jesse kid was responsible, even though almost half of them had heard him threaten to do it just a couple of hours before the murder. In his years as Cherokee County C.A., Nathaniel had run across this kind of backwoods mentality before, but never to this great of an extent. The people of Elza were so confident in their belief that they began to refuse to even talk to the deputies.
Then came the funeral. Nathaniel had planned every minute of the event. First he was going to arrive with the family in a limousine rented at the C.A. office’s expense. That part went out the window when the family had refused to see him or let him into their house.
Nevertheless, the day could still be salvaged.
He had spent more than an hour the previous day with the pastor and the funeral director. The funeral director agreed to help the C.A. make sure that the funeral went smoothly and without any problems. By smoothly, the C.A. meant that if the murderer happened to show up, which was unlikely, the pastor would have someone point him out to one of the two C.A.’s office deputies who would be discretely standing in the back of the church. The brutal killer would then, again very discretely since it was a funeral, be taken into custody by one of the sheriff’s department deputies.
That Night at the Palace Page 22
