Appalachian Tales: The Murder Trial

  I was watching a movie the other night about a notorious murder trial in Louisiana in which the family of the victim paid to have a prominent big-city attorney assist the prosecutor in the proceedings.

  “I’ve actually seen that done,” I said to The Lady of the House.

  “Shhhh,” she said, “Tell me when the movie’s over.”

  It was almost forty years ago back in the hills and hollows of Appalachian coal country.  I was the full-time newsman and morning announcer at a radio station in a little town I won’t name.  I’ll also change the names in the story…to protect me.

  The Thompson family had the new car dealership in town and they did quite well at it.  You rarely saw Tommy Sr. at the lot, his son Tommy Jr. ran things even though he had gone off to Vanderbilt and studied to be a lawyer.

  And then there was Teddy Thompson.

  No one seemed to know if Teddy had a job or not.  Teddy spent his time “bon-vivanting” around town, raising hell, driving any one of the sportier new cars off the lot from the family dealership.

  And Teddy was a bully.

  The community grapevine was always alive with tales of Teddy kicking somebody’s butt at a bar in Bristol or Teddy sweet-talking his way out of a speeding ticket or Teddy beating up anyone who dared to look at his girlfriend-of-the-week.

  So while tragic, it was no surprise when the grapevine crackled alive one morning with the news that Teddy had been airlifted to a big city almost 200 miles away…two bullets in him, one in his head.

  Teddy lay in a coma for two weeks with a shattered skull…the bullet had entered right between his eyes.

  Then he died.

  Details began to emerge.

  Teddy had been harassing a guy who was dating Bessie, his sister.  While Bessie enjoyed the company of her new gentleman caller the Thompson family thought the boy wasn’t good enough for their Bessie.

  Word was that every time Teddy saw Bessie’s beau around town he’d turn his car around and follow the guy, tailgating him, blowing the horn and yelling crap at him.

  On that fateful day Teddy spied Bessie’s beau in traffic.  Teddy spun around in his car and started the usual hassling of the guy.  Teddy followed him to the guy’s apartment where the boy got out of his car and started walking to his place, all the while ignoring what Teddy was saying about him, about his mother, about his ancestry, etcetera.

  Then Teddy went and picked up a big rock, one he needed to carry with two hands.  Teddy hefted the big stone over his head.

  In court, Bessie’s beau testified that Teddy yelled, “YOU SEE THIS ROCK, MOTHER#$%KER?  I’M A-GONNA TAKE THIS AND BASH YOUR #$%KING HEAD IN YOU DUMBASS!”

  Bessie’s beau went into his apartment, got out his .38 caliber H & R revolver, walked out the door of his apartment and stood at the top of the stairs.

  There was Teddy walking up, the big rock still hefted over his head.

  “WHAT ARE YOU GONNA DO, P#@SY?  SHOOT ME?” Teddy yelled.

  Bessie’s beau pulled the trigger.

  The bullet hit Teddy in the shoulder.  The stone fell.

  “YOU SHOT ME, YOU SHOT ME!” Teddy yelled, according to testimony.

  Teddy turned and ran out to the parking lot.

  Bessie’s beau followed, pistol in hand.

  Bessie’s beau told the court how Teddy hit the ground and went crawling under this car and that.

“I looked for Teddy,” Bessie’s beau told the court, “And when I finally saw him under a pickup truck I shot him again.”

  The bullet hit Teddy right between the eyes.

  "I shot him again because I knew if he had the chance he'd kill me," Bessie's beau told the court.

  Who knows why the Thompson family paid to have a prominent attorney from the county seat assist the prosecution of Bessie’s beau…was it because they had no faith in the Commonwealth’s Attorney?  Was it because they wanted to assure a conviction?

  I don’t know how courts work but the court would only allow the jury to consider one charge:  First degree murder.  It would be first degree murder, nothing else.  Not second degree murder, not manslaughter.  If the jury didn’t find the guy guilty of first degree murder he would walk free.

  The jury was out for two days…

  …and returned with a verdict of “not guilty.”

  The jury knew wrong had been done, but not enough wrong for a first degree murder conviction.

  Tommy Jr., who had been there day after day, who would occasionally turn to me or the reporters from the area papers and say, “Be sure you report that,” when something he thought was important was brought up in court, Tommy Jr. stood up and hollered at Bessie’s beau, “YOU BETTER RUN, BOY.”  To which the judge pounded his gavel and threatened Tommy Jr. with contempt of court.

  And Bessie’s beau left the area.

  I’ve forgotten his name.

  I often wonder what happened to him.