Harvest of Thorns

by Paul E. Wootten

  Thankfully it might be the last night Grover stayed at their house. As much as Levi deserved to stay in jail, his presence in the house was preferable to Grover Petty’s.

  The sun was going down when Grover emerged out the back door after another trip upstairs with Mama. “Get in the house, boy,” he smirked. “Coyotes gonna get you out here.” Earl watched Grover enter the barn and start banging around in one of the back stalls, probably the same one Harvester Stanley hid in the night Earl first saw him.

  Mama was in the kitchen. Her face was red and she’d been crying. Unsure what to do, he hugged her tight around the waist, his head coming to rest on her belly.

  “It won’t always be like this,” she said, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. “Someday we’ll leave here and go someplace else.”

  “Daddy too?”

  “No honey, just you and Mama. Maybe we’ll move over to Chester or down to Perryville. Maybe even farther away. I think I can get myself hired at one of the shoemaking plants. We’ll get ourselves a house and eat dinner on the front porch every night.”

  “Even in the winter?”

  Mama laughed. Her real laugh. Hearing it made his heart soar, bringing hope that they could someday run away from the pain.

  SIXTEEN

  The explosion shook Earl’s bedroom walls. Mama’s scream shook his soul.

  Fire illuminated the room through the front window as he jumped from bed and tore through the hall into Mama’s room. She was sitting up, staring wide-eyed out the window, her face reflecting the orange glow.

  The first thing to cross his mind was that they were going to die.

  The second was that Grover Petty was involved.

  “Mama, let’s get out!” She squeezed his hand, but didn’t move.

  “Our house ain’t on fire. It’s over there.” She pointed out the window to the northwest.

  Mama was right. The fire was across the island. Huge flames climbed the sky.

  Mary Dobson’s house?

  No. Closer to Grebey Creek.

  “Mama, we gotta do something.” He ran back to his room and threw on his pants and shirt. When he returned, Mama was already dressed.

  “We’ll take the truck.”

  ###

  Levi thought the morning was going about like it was supposed to. Dwayne Scales had paraded the four highway patrolmen to the stand. Each said the same thing. The Highway Patrol had received a tip that one of the Negro houses on Grebey Island was going to be torched. The informant knew the date, time, everything.

  The patrolmen certainly looked impressive. Clean-shaven men in well-fitting uniforms. Their manner of speaking was clipped and official, at least until Brett Baines starting hammering away at them. They started to slip when put on the defensive. One even cursed when Baines questioned his eyesight by going to the back of the courtroom, holding up a coin, and asking the trooper to identify if it was a nickel or quarter. “Cast just enough doubt to allow jurors a way to find you innocent,” Baines said before court.

  Still, their stories on the main issues were consistent. They heard the men’s arrival, observed them approach the property on foot, pour gasoline on the house, and prepare to set it ablaze. Two of the patrolmen even observed Levi spill gas on his pants.

  When asked to identify the informant, all responded that the identity had not been made known to them. Baines seized upon this, going so far as accusing the troopers of attempting to set the fire themselves. It was, Levi thought, as good as some of the traveling shows he’d seen at the county fair. The only difference being that the cost of this show could be his freedom rather than the three cents the carnival barkers charged.

  After the prosecution rested, Brett Baines called a half-dozen friends and acquaintances of the defendants to testify. Five of the six were Saxon County Knights. All spoke highly of the defendants. Halbert Young aroused muted laughter in the packed courtroom when he described Levi as one of the best farmers he knew. In each case, Prosecutor Scales’ cross-examination did little to punch holes in their puffed-up praise.

  To close out the defense’s case, Baines called the three defendants to the stand. Their testimonies were rehearsed to the point of total consistency. Levi went first.

  “Were you and the other defendants at the home of Aldus Dobson on the night of September 5?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you attempt to set fire to the home of Aldus Dobson?”

  “No.”

  “What reason did you have to be at the Negro Dobson’s house on the night in question?”

  “The three of us were in my barn when we heard some cars pass by. This was unusual for that time of night, so we went to investigate. We found the highway patrol surrounding the house. We surprised them and they turned on us.”

  Prosecutor Scales tried to find inconsistencies in the defendants’ story, but to no avail. He started with Levi, pointing to the gas cans displayed on an evidence table.

  “Mr. Manning, are these your gas cans?”

  “They used to be. They was getting rusty and I took ‘em to the dump.”

  “How did they wind up in your possession at Aldus Dobson’s house?”

  “You’d have to ask the Highway Patrol. They already had ‘em when we showed up.”

  Knox Bradshaw was the only one who took a hit. The owner of Saxon County’s only drinking establishment had to admit under oath that he had a prior criminal record for bootlegging. There was, it turned out, an arrest warrant waiting for him in Warren County. Even if they were found innocent, Knox would stand trial on the bootlegging charge.

  One thing that wasn’t brought up was the overnight fire that burned a Grebey Island house to the ground a few hours before. It was the talk of the courtroom before the trial started, as people from all corners of Saxon County could see the flames dominating the night sky, accelerated when the fire reached a gasoline storage tank, causing the thunderous boom that awakened everyone within ten miles.

  Brett Baines had insisted that Cora and Earl be in the courtroom. He seated them on the first row with the other defendants’ families. Earl was sad about missing school. He and Mama were dressed like they were going to church. Levi smiled at them a few times, but Earl never smiled back. He hoped the judge would send him away for a long time. Sure, that would leave Grover Petty, but Earl wasn’t scared of Grover anymore.

  He knew something about Grover that nobody else did.

  ###

  “The defense rests, Your Honor.”

  Brett Baines appeared smug as he took his seat. He had played the jurors like a fiddle, and Levi could tell they’d taken a liking to him.

  All eyes turned to Judge Wilbert Sayer. Like Baines, the judge was an outsider; his circuit included Saxon, Sainte Genevieve, and Jefferson Counties. The base of his support came from the latter. Jefferson County always had the votes to elect the circuit judge of their choice, and for the past eleven years, that was their favorite son, Wilbert Sayer. The man had no ties to Saxon County whatsoever.

  As the jury waited for the judge’s final instructions, few noticed the bailiff slip a scrap of paper in front of Dwayne Scales, nor the abrupt straightening of the prosecutor’s slouching posture.

  Judge Sayer faced the jury. “Gentlemen, I am—”

  “Your honor!”

  Miffed at the interruption, Judge Sayer scowled at Scales.

  “Mr. Scales? This is important, I hope.”

  “Yessir, we have a witness who made a very long trip to be here today. If it pleases the court—”

  “It does not please the court, Mr. Scales. I think by now you know how I run my courtroom and that I do not appreciate—”

  “With all due respect, Judge, I believe it’s in the court’s best interest to hear this witness.” Levi could see that Scales was pushing his limits. He hoped the judge might shoot him down good, maybe even have the bailiff restrain him or something. Anything to break the tedium of the past hour.

  “Approach the bench, Mr. Scales
. Mr. Baines, you come too.”

  Levi watched as the judge gave Dwayne Scales a muted, but effective tongue-lashing while Baines stood by, trying to hide his smirk. A few words from Scales, however, and everything changed. Judge Sayer turned ashen. Brett Baines’ smile disappeared as he quietly argued some unheard point. The judge listened to both lawyers, alternately nodding and shaking his head before shooing them away. Baines returned to his seat, angrily tossing his notes on the table.

  “Call your witness, Mr. Scales.”

  “The prosecution calls the Governor of Missouri, the Honorable Guy Park.”

  A buzz filled the air as a well-dressed, gray-haired man entered and strode up the aisle, his face recognizable from news clippings. Everyone knew the name. It was indeed the governor.

  After being sworn in, Governor Park situated himself in the witness chair. Even Judge Sayer seemed in awe. Levi glanced to his right, where Baines had retrieved the stack of papers and was busy jotting notes.

  “Did you know he was—”

  “Shhh!” Baines admonition left no room for argument. Levi shrugged and returned his attention to the witness stand, where Prosecutor Scales stood a few feet from the Governor.

  “Please state your name.”

  “Guy Brasfield Park.”

  “And your vocation?”

  “Attorney by trade. Currently I am serving at the pleasure of the people of Missouri as their Governor.”

  Scales paused to let this sink in.

  “Governor Park, you’ve heard about the disparaging remarks being made about the Missouri Highway Patrolmen who testified before this court, is this right?”

  “Yes, Mr. Scales. I arrived in Adair early this morning and have been receiving regular updates about this case.”

  “And it is the nature of these remarks that have brought you here today?”

  “It is indeed. I wish to personally refute each and every negative comment about these four Highway Patrolmen.”

  “How well do you know these men, Governor Park?”

  Governor Park leaned forward slightly. “Honestly, Mr. Scales, I don’t know them at all. What I do know is the process that goes into choosing the fine men who serve on our Highway Patrol. Their service comes only after a thorough check of their backgrounds. Currently we have eighty-five troopers around the state, all of them are men of high moral standard and integrity. Many are military veterans who chose to continue their service to our people. I would trust them with my life.”

  “Objection, your honor!” Baines wasn’t even to his feet before Judge Sayer motioned him to sit.

  “Don’t interrupt the Governor!”

  Scales pointed to the defendants. “Governor Park, what would you say to the three men who want this court to believe that the fire was about to be set by the Missouri Highway Patrolmen who were at the location?”

  The Governor removed his glasses and faced Levi and the others. His steely eyes were filled with disdain, like he was staring down a gun barrel at a brood of snakes. His words filled the courtroom, and sealed the fates of Levi, Bradshaw, and Reese.

  “I’d say they’re liars.”

  “Anything else, Governor Park?”

  “Yes, Mr. Scales, there is one more thing.” Governor Park continued to glower at the defendants. “I understand there was an actual fire in the same area last night.”

  “Yes sir, on Grebey Island.”

  “And this time the arsonist was successful?”

  “Yes, Governor. The house was burned to the ground.”

  “And the target was a white man?”

  Scales took a deep breath. “Yes sir. Archie Mueller, a local farmer and Saxon County Commissioner. He and his wife escaped the house, but were badly burned. They were taken to Desloge Hospital in St. Louis.” Scales stopped again, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and daubing at his eyes.

  “Latest word, Governor, is that neither made it through the morning.”

  Moans of sadness and angst filled the courtroom. Levi felt a twinge of remorse. Sure, Archie had quit the Knights, and even been friendly with the nigras, but he had farmed next to Levi going back to when Levi’s father was still alive.

  Governor Park allowed the emotions of the room to subside before continuing.

  “I understand the perpetrator or perpetrators of this heinous act have not been caught. Well, make no mistake, they will be caught and punished to the full extent of the law.”

  Throughout the courtroom, people voiced their agreement, even Judge Sayer.

  “You need the support of the men of the Missouri Highway Patrol to aid and provide assistance to local law enforcement. You need them, and quite frankly, they need to know you trust them.”

  The governor turned his attention to the jury. “You as jurors need to see through the smokescreens and discern the truth. You’re determining the guilt or innocence of three men accused of setting fire to a Negro’s house. I ask you this – what if you take the coward’s way out and let these men go free? What will happen next time, when the target is a white person? Will the same standards of law be used, or something different?”

  Governor Park’s comments sucked the air out of the courtroom. All was still until Prosecutor Scales spoke quietly.

  “Governor, are you knowledgeable as to the identity of the informant who provided details leading to the arrest of these men?”

  He nodded.

  “Was that informant Archie Mueller?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “The prosecution rests.”

  Judge Sayer nodded at the defense table. Levi watched Baines flip through his notes, his face drained of any color. Finally, he stood.

  “Governor Park, you indicated that you do not know the four Highway Patrolmen?”

  “That is correct.”

  “They why, Governor, with all due respect, should your testimony even be considered?”

  It took two minutes for Judge Sayer to regain control, as Brett Baines became the target of the gallery’s disdain. Boos and catcalls rained down.

  “He’s the Governor!”

  “You can’t talk to him like that!”

  “Get back to Cape County where you belong!”

  “Lock the lawyer up with ‘em!”

  When a modicum of order was restored, Judge Sayer politely excused the witness. Governor Guy Brasfield Park returned down the center aisle and out the door through which he’d entered. It had taken less than ten minutes to put the final nail in Levi’s hope of walking away

  He looked back at Cora. She didn’t meet his gaze, concentrating instead on Earl, who was whispering something in her ear.

  ###

  “I know he did it Mama. I heard him getting the gas cans from the barn.”

  “You don’t know for sure, Earl. If you’re wrong, it’ll come back on us.”

  “I’m not wrong. I know what I heard. It was the new gas cans Daddy bought. If you look in the barn, you’ll see they’re gone. Grover took ‘em and set the fire at Mr. Mueller’s”

  “I think we should stay out of it.”

  “Mama, I can’t. I’ve got to say something or he’ll just get away with it.”

  ###

  “Bailiff, take the prisoners away.” Judge Sayer rapped his gavel, a satisfied look on his face. Three armed guards appeared and roughly pushed the defendants through a side exit.

  “Is there further business that needs to come before this court?”

  Earl knew he should say something. It was now or never. Meekly he raised his hand. Judge Sayer scowled at him. “What is it, boy?”

  Getting to his feet, Earl felt like his insides might explode. Any courage he had was quickly ebbing away. The courtroom seemed much bigger.

  “Sir... Judge... I... at the Muellers... I know who—”

  “Out with it, son. What’s so important that you need to take the court’s time?”

  “I know who—” The rear door burst open, cutting Earl off. A Negro man was shoved heavily into the cou
rtroom, his hands tied behind his back with baling wire. His momentum and the slick polished floor conspired to send him tumbling. With no way to stop his fall, he hit the floor face first. Earl leaned into the aisle just in time to hear the dull thud and see the splatter of blood. Rushing in behind him, pulling the Negro’s bloody face up for all to see, was Grover Petty.

  “I got your murderer right here, Judge. His name’s Dobson, and I found the evidence in his truck.”

  “He set the fire that kilt the Muellers.”

  SEVENTEEN

  SAXON COUNTY WEEKLY TELEGRAPH

  September 19, 1934

  THREE SENTENCED FOR ATTEMPTED ARSON

  Your Reporter: Richland Rice, Editor

  The Saxon County Courthouse in Adair was the center of attention Monday when court was convened for the trial of three local men on the charge of attempted arson.

  After a full day of testimony, twelve Saxon County men spent less than thirty minutes deliberating before arriving at the finding of guilt. The sentence was announced by Honorable Wilbert Sayer, Circuit Judge.

  Knox Bradshaw, 45; Gilbert “Gib” Reese, 35; and Leviticus Manning, 32 were each sentenced to ten years in prison for the attempted arson of a house on Grebey Island belonging to a Negro farmer.

  The highlight of the trial was the appearance in the courtroom of the Honorable Guy Brasfield Park, Governor of Missouri. Several jurors told Your Reporter that it was the Governor’s testimony that persuaded them to vote for a guilty verdict.

  Bradshaw, Reese, and Manning are members of the recently organized group referred to as the Saxon County Knights. Your Reporter has learned that the group lost a large number of its members the day after the trial, and the group’s future is in serious doubt.