Authors: Gerald W. Darnell
This was Sunday and traffic was light.
The white Ford truck stayed well behind me until I left the Humboldt city limits and then it quickened its’ pace – so did I.
My speedometer showed the Ford was traveling over 90 when we went through Fruitland, and it was obvious that the white Ford truck was not going to be able to keep pace – so I slowed down!
The truck was within 50 yards of my rear bumper when we entered a long flat straight stretch of road about 2 miles north of Fruitland.
In my rearview mirror I could see two men in the cab and another standing in the bed on the passenger side – he had a shotgun! Their plan was to pull into the passing lane and give me some of the same medicine they had given Joe; I didn’t intend to let that happen.
I speeded up again to give me some distance and make sure they had a full head of steam when they came at me.
When they were about 40 yards behind and coming fast, I pulled straddle the white line and slammed on my brakes – they didn’t expect that!
Instinct caused the driver to swerve left to avoid an uncontrolled collision, which was a bad mistake on the slick road.
They quickly ran out of pavement and the driver tried to correct his mistake by turning back to right, which was an even worse mistake, because the truck began to slide sideways on the wet grass.
It turned its’ nose toward me, before it began a barrel roll down the shoulder of Hwy 79.
The poor guy who was riding in the bed of the truck never had a chance.
He separated from the truck and his shotgun, as he began his own personal barrel roll down Hwy 79 – only he was doing it on the pavement!
Bringing the Ford to a stop in the middle of the highway, I lost count of the number of flips the white Ford truck made before finally ending up on its roof.
Somewhere in the process, both doors had come open and then off – tossing its’ passengers out and under the tumbling vehicle.
Simply put, it was a mess.
The misty air seemed to magnify the steam as it rose from the overturned and destroyed vehicle.
I parked the Ford on the shoulder and located the two passengers who had been thrown from the cab.
One was dead already and the other breathed for a few moments before meeting his maker.
I didn’t bother checking on the passenger who had continued to travel down the highway under his own power.
He had left parts and pieces for 20 or 30 yards before finally ending up in the middle of the road.
A southbound delivery vehicle was first at the scene.
I gave him my name and asked him to get to the nearest phone and report this to the sheriff.
I told him I was a witness and would remain at the accident site until authorities arrived.
Then I got back in the Ford and realized my clothes were once again soaking wet!
More Bad News
I
n less than an hour, this small stretch of highway was full of ambulances, wreckers, police cars and other emergency vehicles.
Deputy Jeff Cole was first to respond to the call and his radio alert summoned everyone else.
The EMTs had already placed fatality sheets over the three victims and they seemed in no hurry to remove the bodies, their work was finished before it ever started.
The rain finally stopped, but it didn’t make any difference.
My clothes were completely soaked already and I was trying to remember how good a pair of dry underwear would feel!
I was standing on the shoulder of the road talking with Deputy Cole when Captain Chip Falstaff of the Tennessee Highway Patrol pulled up, got out of his car and walked over to join our conversation.
“There’s my Ford, Captain.
It doesn’t have a mark on it!” I pleaded, pointing at my car.
“Then, I would say you are a lucky man.” Chip then turned to Jeff, “Do you have identification on the fatalities?” he asked.
“The two fellows over there near the truck are Billy Joe Bobbitt and his younger brother, Larry Wayne Bobbitt,” Jeff answered. “Those parts and pieces in the middle of the highway belong to Sonny Blurton.”
“The husband of that murdered girl, Tammy Blurton?” Chip exclaimed.
“Yep, that’s him,” Jeff said with a shrug.
“And is that a shotgun I see laying in the highway?” Chip pointed.
“Sure is,” Jeff acknowledged, “and it’s loaded.
I decided to leave it there until we can get a full set of crime scene photos with everything just like we found it.
We’ll be rerouting traffic for another hour until we can get this mess cleaned up.”
“Sounds interesting, I’ll read Leroy’s report.
And speaking of Leroy, where is he?” Chip asked as he looked around.
“He’s back at the office keeping tabs on the crowd we have demonstrating on our sidewalk,” Jeff answered.
“Oh, yeah.
Well, I’ll let you get back to work.” Chip turned and grabbed me by my arm, “Carson, you got a minute?” he asked.
We walked away a few steps and Jeff headed toward Donnie Graves, who was hooking his wrecker cable and preparing to turn the white Ford truck back on its wheels.
“Carson, I got Leroy’s message and I’m going to have some troopers in town tomorrow, but what’s your take on the situation?” Chip asked.
“Chip, it’s a powder keg and we can just hope nobody lights the fuse.
What you see here is a part of it, and I wish this were all of it – but it isn’t.
These hotheads tried to kill me and almost succeeded in killing Joe.
Who knows what they have already done or would have done if this hadn’t happened?
But there are more problems in town and that’s what scares me.
We’ve got demonstrators trying to prove a point and the locals letting their racial attitudes get in the way of rational thinking and actions.
Hopefully, if we can get through this preliminary hearing and keep Henry protected, then everyone will get tired and go home and let the law do its job.”
“Carson, who murdered that girl?” Chip frowned. “Certainly not these guys.
Did Henry Walker do it?”
“I don’t believe he did, but I haven’t been able to prove otherwise – yet.
Henry’s scared, and I don’t blame him.
He’s scared for himself, he scared for his family and he scared because most of this town wants his head on a platter, believing he murdered and assaulted a white girl.
I’ve known Henry since we were kids, and when you’ve known someone that long it’s hard to believe their capable of committing a crime like that.
I’m working some leads and I had hoped to have something for Jack Logan before the preliminary hearing tomorrow, but that’s not going to happen.
However, before I leave this circus and return to Memphis, I’ll either be satisfied that Henry is guilty or find out who is, and turn them over to Leroy.
I owe Henry that much.”
“Anything I can do?” Chip offered.
“Just make sure that Henry makes it safely from Leroy’s jail to the hearing and then the city jail.
After that, it’s up to the demonstrators and the Humboldt community as to what happens next.
Jack has obtained a ‘protective order’ from the state, so I think the mayor and his police force will see that Henry gets treated fairly,” I answered.
“We’ll do our best to control the crowds tomorrow.
I told Leroy to make sure he had plenty of jail space, because if we see anyone so much as litter, they will spend the night at the courtesy of the county!”
Chip nodded.
“Thanks for your help, it is definitely appreciated.
Now, if Jeff will let me go, I’m headed to Chiefs and see if I can’t find myself a drink and some dry clothes!”
We walked back over to where Jeff was watching Donnie Graves hook up his wrecker.
“Hey, Carson,” Donnie yelled. “I hope you stick around, you’re good for business!”
“Very funny,” I said to no one.
“Did you get Joe’s car fixed yet?” I yelled back.
“Fixed!” Donnie laughed. “The only way to fix that car is to BURY it!
You tell your buddy I’m declaring it totaled, and he can find himself a new one.
Sorry.”
I turned to Jeff. “Jeff, if you are finished with me, I’d like to get out of here and find some dry clothes.
Is that okay?”
“Sure, go home or go to Chiefs or wherever it is you go.
We’ll get this mess cleaned up soon and reopen the highway.”
I turned the Ford around and pointed it toward Humboldt; I was glad to leave that mess behind.
Unfortunately, I was going to find another one before the day ended.
~
P
arking in front of my cabin, I wondered which I wanted worse – dry clothes or a drink.
I decided on the drink.
Chiefs was almost empty and I found my usual stool at the end of the bar.
Flo was busy working on a full mouth of gum when she walked up behind me.
“My goodness, ‘Hon’, she giggled. “You been swimmin’?”
“Yes, and you should try it sometimes.
Swimming fully clothed is a pleasure that very few people get to experience.”
“Oh no, ‘Hon’.
I prefer swimmin’ ‘nakid’, now that’s a REAL pleasure!” Flo offered as she walked behind the bar.
“I’m sure it is,” I nodded. “Perhaps I’ll try that next.
Could you see if you can find me a Jack and Coke back there somewhere?”
“Sure thing, ‘Hon’, but, I think Miss Nickie has a message for you.
Let me go find her,” she said as she walked away.
I wanted a drink, not a message!
Sometimes the world wasn’t fair!
Nickie emerged from somewhere and sat down on the stool next to me. “You been swimming?” she asked.
“I’ve already had that conversation, thank you.
And if I could just get a drink first, I plan on finding some dry clothes.
Is this still a bar?” I was getting in trouble.
“Yes, smart-ass, and the proper procedure is for the patron to place an order and then we do our best to accommodate.
Are you familiar with that process?” Nickie snapped.
“I have already placed the order, now I am waiting on that accommodation!”
“Jeez,” Nickie blurted, getting up and walking behind the bar. “I can see you are in a good mood today.
I’ve been out back taking a meal to your girlfriend and you come in here with an attitude!”
“I’m sorry, Nickie, I’ve just had a rough morning and need to get into some dry clothes.
Thanks for looking after Colleen, and she’s not my girlfriend, just a friend.
But, she needs to stay away from her home and out of sight for a couple of days.
I knew you would be happy to help.” I was trying to make up.
“She seems like a sweet girl,” Nickie said as she sat my drink on the counter. “Is she in real trouble?”
“She’s not in trouble, but there’s trouble all around her.
I just feel better knowing she’s here and safe,” I added.
“We’ll take care of her, you know that.
Maybe your mood will be better after you have a drink and find dry clothes, but I do have a message for you.”
“Thanks, who called?” I asked sipping my drink.
“Your long-legged stewardess, she said for you to call her when you showed up,” Nickie answered. “I suggest you do that!”
I left Nickie standing at the bar and went out front to use the pay phone.
Liz was feeling better and I promised to be over shortly with some Bloody Marys.
She thought that was a good idea and suggested I hurry because she would be scrambling eggs to go with our drinks!