That Night at the Palace (39 page)

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CHEROKEE COUNTY COURTHOUSE

RUSK, TEXAS

1:15 p.m., Sunday December 7, 1941

When Irwin and his two companions rolled into Rusk, there were already at least a hundred people out in front of the courthouse. His driver didn’t bother finding a real parking spot; instead he opted to leave his truck in the middle of the street. By the time they got halfway to the front of the building, a dozen more trucks had done the same.

When they reached the front steps of the courthouse, one of the men with Irwin shouted, “This is the father of the poor little girl that kid butchered!”

In a moment’s time the entire crowd, which previously had been composed of little groups, gathered into one large, angry, shouting mass. All the while more and more trucks pulled into town to the point that the streets were no longer passable.

The men with him kept urging Irwin to speak, but he really didn’t know what to say. Suddenly, for reasons that he no longer understood, he was now the center of a lot of attention. In all honesty he didn’t know if he wanted that Rose kid to pay for Jewel’s killing or not. The fact was that he had no idea who killed her or why. Everyone said Rose did it, but he didn’t know why they seemed to be so sure. The truth was that he still had a terrible headache and really wanted to be home with his four bottles of Old Crow.

Before he realized it, he was standing on the top of the courthouse steps, and the angry crowd quieted, waiting for him to speak.

Irwin looked around at the crowed and said, “I don’t know what to say. All I know is that my little girl is dead.”

“And that judge wants to let the kid who done it go free!” Shouted someone from the crowd.

It took nothing else to light the flame. The mass of angry men rushed up the steps past Irwin and into the courthouse. The deputy tried futilely to hold the door shut and get it locked, but it was way too late, as he was no match for the power of the mob pressing against him. Within seconds they had rushed into the building and down the staircase to the jail.

Jesse and Gemma and Shakes had just finished their lunch. The day before one of the deputies had shown Gemma where they kept metal plates and flatware for the prisoners. At first she was afraid of the man in the cell across from Jesse, but there was something kind and gentle about his eyes. The night before Jesse had told her how he was a nice man who had fallen on bad luck during the depression. Jesse suspected that Shakes had gotten arrested on purpose to get a few good meals. Her mother always made way too much pot roast anyway, so it was no problem to bring enough for three. She even opened his cell, so he could sit with her and Jesse.

They actually had a nice time. Shakes led them in a blessing, and then as they ate he told funny stories about life on the rails. Gemma had almost forgotten all about the newspaper and the angry crowd outside. She finished washing their plates and had just walked back into cellblock when she heard people coming down the stairs and bursting into the sheriff’s office. There was really nothing she could do. The entire area was suddenly packed with men. She found herself pushed back into a corner of Jesse’s cell. All she could do was watch while the throng poured into the cellblock. A moment later she caught a glimpse of Jesse as the mob carried him out of the building.

When she stepped out of the cell the area was eerily quiet. Shakes rushed to her side, “Are you okay?”

She simply nodded.

The prowler came to a screeching halt a block from the courthouse square. Jefferson had done a masterful job racing into Rusk. For the first time in his career he got to use the siren and lights, which made it easy to get past many of the cars and trucks headed into town. But the highway was narrow and it was difficult to pass more than just a few trucks at a time. Even worse, a number of the trucks seemed to purposely try to keep them from passing.

When they got to the square the streets were blocked with cars and trucks.The two law officers got out of the prowler and began running toward the square. When they got to the lawn surrounding the courthouse, a line of trucks came rambling into town from behind them. These trucks made no effort to stop. Instead, they drove up onto the sidewalks, plowing past anyone in the way. The lead truck was a large pulpwood hauler that simply shoved aside anything in its path.

Irwin was dumbfounded as he watched the mob come out of the courthouse shouting and dragging Jesse Rose. The boy looked terrified, but Irwin didn’t really care.

He must have done it. Everyone seemed to know that the Rose kid was the one who killed Jewel.

The crowd carried Jesse to the street corner where someone had already thrown a rope over a streetlight. They had punched and kicked him over and over all the way from the cell to the street. His ears had been boxed so many times that he couldn’t hear. When they got to the light pole, Jesse was hunched over on his knees with bruises and cuts all over his face and blood streaming from his nose and mouth.

The two men who had driven Irwin to Rusk, whose names he still didn’t know, grabbed him by the arms and led him to where Jesse was kneeling.

“Is this the one who murdered your daughter?” one of the men asked.

The crowd quieted.

Irwin looked at Jesse.

The kid had to have done it; even the newspapers seemed to know it
.

Irwin looked at the crowd and then back down at Jesse and then nodded.

Gemma followed Shakes out of the courthouse and stood in horror as the angry mob put a noose around Jesse’s neck. Across the street Judge Buckner was fighting his way through the mob.

“Stop this!” he yelled over and again to the mob that seemed to neither listen nor care.

Shakes leaped from the courthouse steps and ran into the mob and grabbed the rope just as the crowd began pulling Jesse up off his feet. One of the men in the crowd hit Shakes with a club, but he held on, keeping Jesse from being pulled up. Then more men began clubbing and hitting Shakes until he lost hold of the rope and fell to his knees.

Suddenly, just as Jesse was lifted off his feet, the new line of trucks came plowing into the square. The streets were blocked with cars, but these new trucks pushed their way though, knocking other vehicles out of the way. At one point they drove onto the sidewalks to get around the blockage. Finally, as they entered the square, they jumped the curb and drove onto the courthouse lawn. In the back of each truck stood two or more men, all holding shotguns. The lead driver started honking his horn as the mob began jumping out of the way of the oncoming truck. One of the men on the truck-bed fired a shotgun into the air.

The crowd stopped everything as the line of trucks pulled to a stop on the lawn between the courthouse and the street. All the men in the back of the trucks were black. Each of them pointed their shotguns at the crowd.

Jesse was swinging with his legs some five feet off the ground.

Gemma watched in horror as the entire square grew silent. To her right, Corporal McKinney came running across the lawn with Chief Hightower close behind. Across the way Judge Buckner fought through the mob to where Jesse was hanging.

“Stop this! Drop that man!” Buckner ordered.

Corporal McKinney rushed into the open space between the black men in the trucks and the crowd holding Jesse.

“Enough!” he ordered as he pulled his big Colt .45 from under his coat. “Let the kid go!”

The men let go of the rope and Jesse fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

“I’m Brewster McKinney of the Texas Rangers. The next man who fires a gun dies,” McKinney yelled.

The judge helped Jesse to his feet and pulled the noose from his neck while Cherokee One-Leg climbed out of the passenger side of the lead truck. One of the men in the back of the truck threw a white man from the bed of the truck onto the ground. The black man then leaped from the truck bed, took the white man by the collar, and dragged him to Judge Buckner.

Cherokee stepped up to the judge. “Here’s your killer.”

Gemma looked in shock as she could clearly see her Uncle Richard on his knees before the judge.

The street grew silent to the point that Gemma could hear her own heartbeat.

Judge Buckner looked down at the man kneeling before him and then at Chief Hightower, who had his gun drawn, and asked, “Chief is this the man?”

“That’s him, Judge.”

“Did you kill those two kids in Elza?” Buckner asked, looking down at Crawford.

Crawford looked at the judge and then at Cherokee and then looked back at the judge and nodded.

Crawford then looked at Jesse with venom in his eyes, “That kid and his friend murdered my brother.”

As the words came out of Crawford’s mouth, Jesse looked up at the courthouse steps and saw Gemma staring at him.

Dave Roberson of
The Jacksonville Statesman
had not wanted to make the drive down to Rusk. For the past hour they had been getting wire reports about an attack on the United States Naval Base at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Still, the Elza killings were his story, and he had gotten a tip that there might be an attempt to lynch the kid who did it. So duty called, and he made the drive south.

He was shocked when he pulled into town and found all the streets blocked. He found a place to park and got to the square just in time to see the line of pickups barreling over sidewalks and lawns to get to the courthouse.

He stayed back next to Dixon’s Drug Store and watched with his notepad in hand. While he stood there, Cherokee County Attorney, the Honorable Nathaniel Cockwright, Esq. walked up beside him and stood watching in amazement while a man confessed to the Elza murders.

In the next few minutes the crowd began to disperse.

Roberson then looked at Cockwright, who had not yet noticed him, and said, “Well, Nate, it looks like your case just blew right out the window, along with your dream of running for Governor.”

Cockwright looked at Roberson and asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that a man just confessed. The kid didn’t do it, just like everybody’s been telling you. It’s a shame, too, with the news from Hawaii and all.”

Cockwright just stared at him.

“What news from Hawaii?”

“The Japs attacked this morning. We’ll be at war by nightfall. Otherwise this world-class blunder of your would have been my lead story tomorrow. It would have been a dandy, too. I’d write all about how a C.A. nearly got a kid lynched because he wanted to run for office.”

Cockwright stomach tightened, but before he got to respond, Roberson continued, “But be assured if you ever run for office again, you can bet that what happened here today will be my cover story.”

The crowd had spread by the time Cherokee got to Jesse.

“You, okay, kid?”

Jesse nodded, but he was clearly in some pain. His eyes were blackened and swollen and he was holding his side.

Chief Hightower took Richard by the arm and led him up the courthouse steps.

Buckner looked at Jesse and said, “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up. You may need to see a doctor.”

As Buckner led Jesse toward the courthouse, McKinney tucked his pistol back into its holster and looked at Cherokee.

“Cherokee, you sure know how to spoil a lynchin’.”

The old man smiled as McKinney helped him up the steps. Ahead, Jefferson had Richard by the arm as he led him past Gemma to the courthouse door.

Richard stopped next to his niece. “He did it, Gemma. He murdered your daddy.”

Gemma watched as Hightower shoved Crawford through the door. After they had passed, Jesse stepped up to her. The two looked into each other’s eyes.

Buckner stopped and looked at Jesse. “You two take a few minutes.” He said as he went inside.

McKinney and Cherokee both nodded in respect to the girl but walked on by without speaking. They knew the kids needed a moment.

“You knew,” she said when they were alone. “You knew what happened to my father?”

Jesse just stared at her, searching for words.

“Is it true? Did you kill him?” she asked with tears in her eyes.

Jesse tried to answer, but there was nothing to say. He just nodded.

Tears began running down her cheeks. “All this time. You knew. Way back when mom and me and Jettie would cry for hours wondering why daddy had been out on those tracks, you knew? You were there? You told me that he drove you home that night. All this time you’ve been lying to me. Why?”

“We were kids and your dad…” Jesse paused. He couldn’t tell her the truth.

“That’s it?” She said, near sobbing. “That’s all you can say? What happened that night?”

Jesse’s mind was racing, but he had nothing to say. If he told her what had happened, he’d have to tell her about the lynching in Jacksonville and all about Sarah Stoker and about what kind of man her father was.

“Gem, I can’t,” is all he could think to say.

“Would you have married me knowing this secret?”

Jesse just looked at her with tears in his eyes.

Gemma looked at him as her broken heart suddenly cooled with bitter hatred. She slapped him as hard as she could on the face and ran down the steps and off to her car.

Thirty minutes later Jesse was sitting in Judge Buckner’s office. The judge was in his normal spot behind his big desk. Next to Jesse sat Cherokee-One-Leg. Behind him sat Brewster McKinney and Chief Hightower. To the left sat an annoyed County Attorney Nathaniel
Elbridge Cockwright.

“Well, Jesse, it looks like the State of Texas owes you an apology,” Judge Buckner began.

“Your honor,” Cockwright protested.

“
Nathaniel
, shut up,” Buckner said, cutting the attorney off. “Your antics almost got this poor kid killed. I realize that this is irregular, but Jesse did nothing wrong. This should never have gone to trial.”

“Judge you know that man’s confession won’t hold up; he’ll be screaming duress.”

“No, he won’t,” Cherokee interrupted.

Buckner’s face showed respect as he looked at the old man. “You seem quite confident, Mr. Bradford.”