The Sedalia Bazoo was one of the most prominent practitioners of yellow journalism in Missouri in the late nineteenth century. The editors of the Bazoo liked nothing better than a gory murder case, a public hanging, or a juicy scandal. They found a scandal in July 1883 when James Heflin of the Beaman neighborhood north of Sedalia filed charges on July 24 against Milton Fall, his brother-in-law and near neighbor, for assault with intent to kill.
Sensing a sensational story, a Bazoo reporter set about ferreting out the facts behind the assault charge. What he learned was that Fall and Heflin had been good friends until recently. Heflin was married to Fall's sister, and the two men lived about a quarter mile from each other. They both had several kids, and the two families frequently visited in each other's homes. In the spring or early summer of 1883, however, Fall began to suspect that Heflin, who was about 35 to 40 years old, was "paying too much attention" to Fall's 23-year-old wife, Flora.
On July 10, Fall was working in his field when he saw Heflin approaching his (Fall's) house. Suspecting that Heflin had come to pay a visit to Flora, Fall sneaked up to his house, looked in a window, and caught his wife and his brother-in-law "flagrante delicto," which translates roughly to "in the act" or "red handed." What followed was "a scene beyond the power of the reporter to describe."
During the angry confrontation, Heflin and Mrs. Fall vehemently denied any undue intimacy, and Heflin even threatened Fall's life if he publicly accused Heflin of seducing his wife. In due course, Heflin retired from the fray, leaving Flora to deal with her angry husband. The next day, Fall left his wife and went to stay with his mother, who, of course, was also Heflin's wife's mother.
On July 15, Heflin came to visit his mother-in-law, and when Fall saw him coming, he pulled out a revolver and fired four shots at his brother-in-law. Although none of the shots took effect, Heflin filed charges against Fall on the 24th, and Fall's hearing was set for July 30.
It was thought that "all the dirty linen would receive an airing" at that time, but, instead, the charge against Fall was dropped. Friends and family members had persuaded Heflin to withdraw his complaint, convincing him that "further investigation" would only increase the ill feeling between family members and neighbors.
It was now claimed that Heflin was "not guilty of criminal intimacy with Mrs. Fall" and that the story to that effect was merely "concocted to justify Fall's shooting at Heflin." The Bazoo reporter, thus, concluded that the scandal was now a thing of the past.
Fall did, in fact, return to his wife a few days later, claiming now that the reason he'd left her was that he didn't think she loved him "as she should." He thought Flora allowed herself to be too much influenced by her mother, who lived with the couple. So, Fall let his mother-in-law know that "her departure at the earliest possible moment would be agreeable news to him," and she "at once vacated his house."
Sunday, March 2, 2025
Saturday, February 22, 2025
The Athletic Dennis Weaver
I think I've briefly written about Dennis Weaver on this blog before but only to comment in a general way about his fame as an actor and the fact that he was from Joplin and has a street named after him here. One thing I did not comment on was the fact that, when he was in high school and junior college in Joplin in the early forties, he was known as a good athlete. I had read this somewhere once before, but I recently ran across a newspaper article that shows he was more than just good--he was an outstanding athlete.
After starring at Joplin High and Joplin Junior High, Weaver entered military service and became a fighter pilot during World War II. When the war ended, he enrolled at the University of Oklahoma as a drama student. At the same time, he also resumed his participation in sports as a track athlete.
In the spring of 1947, Weaver, who was then known as Bill (having not yet adopted the name Dennis), competed for Oklahoma in the decathlon at the Kansas Relays. At the end of the first day, encompassing the first five events, Weaver was in second place with 3,610 points. His strongest events the first day were the high jump, where he cleared six feet, two and a half inches, and the quarter mile, which he ran in 51.3 seconds.
The second day, Weaver won the 1,500-meter race in a time of 4:32.8 and placed third overall in the final standings after all ten events were completed. Weaver's best finishes were maybe not world-class, but they were pretty darn good for a college decathlete in the 1940s. This is especially true considering that Weaver had apparently trained very little for the decathlon. The Joplin Globe reported that many of the events in the decathlon were "total strangers" to Weaver but that he had decided to "give it a whirl anyhow."
The same report noted that, during his time as a drama student at the University of Oklahoma, Weaver had played leading roles in "Kiss and Tell," "Uncle Harry," "The Late George Apley," and "Private Lives." As soon as the school term was over, Weaver had plans to move to New York City with his wife, the former Gerrie Stowell of Joplin, to further his drama training. He would, of course, go on to become famous for his roles in such TV series as Gunsmoke, Gentle Ben, and McCloud, as well as roles in a number of movies.
After starring at Joplin High and Joplin Junior High, Weaver entered military service and became a fighter pilot during World War II. When the war ended, he enrolled at the University of Oklahoma as a drama student. At the same time, he also resumed his participation in sports as a track athlete.
In the spring of 1947, Weaver, who was then known as Bill (having not yet adopted the name Dennis), competed for Oklahoma in the decathlon at the Kansas Relays. At the end of the first day, encompassing the first five events, Weaver was in second place with 3,610 points. His strongest events the first day were the high jump, where he cleared six feet, two and a half inches, and the quarter mile, which he ran in 51.3 seconds.
The second day, Weaver won the 1,500-meter race in a time of 4:32.8 and placed third overall in the final standings after all ten events were completed. Weaver's best finishes were maybe not world-class, but they were pretty darn good for a college decathlete in the 1940s. This is especially true considering that Weaver had apparently trained very little for the decathlon. The Joplin Globe reported that many of the events in the decathlon were "total strangers" to Weaver but that he had decided to "give it a whirl anyhow."
The same report noted that, during his time as a drama student at the University of Oklahoma, Weaver had played leading roles in "Kiss and Tell," "Uncle Harry," "The Late George Apley," and "Private Lives." As soon as the school term was over, Weaver had plans to move to New York City with his wife, the former Gerrie Stowell of Joplin, to further his drama training. He would, of course, go on to become famous for his roles in such TV series as Gunsmoke, Gentle Ben, and McCloud, as well as roles in a number of movies.
Saturday, February 15, 2025
Smith-Parker Feud of Iron County
On Monday, July 28, 1913, Jim Smith and his father, John, went to the home of B. Lunsford at Bixby, Missouri, in the western edge of Iron County, where they confronted 23-year-old Richard Parker. Pointing at Parker, Jim Smith, 24, told his father, "There he is; do what you want to."
When John Smith stooped to pick up a couple of rocks, Parker pulled a gun from his pocket and shot the younger Smith, who fell to the ground. Parker started to flee, but he'd taken only a few steps when the mortally wounded Smith raised up and unloaded a shotgun at the retreating man. Parker collapsed and died almost instantly, while Jim Smith lived another six hours.
Both of the deceased young men worked in the timber camps of southeast Missouri, and it was assumed that there had been prior trouble between them, but exactly what that trouble might have been was not brought out at the inquest held over Parker's body later on the same day as the killings. It was expected that John Smith would be charged as an accessory before the fact in the death of Parker.
The uproar over the double murder had scarcely calmed when a report surfaced that the feud between the Parkers and Smiths had erupted into violence again, resulting in what was described as a "cold-blooded and brutal murder." On August 5, barely a week after the first incident, John Smith supposedly shot and killed Richard Parker's younger brother at Greeley, about 20 miles from Brixby in neighboring Reynolds County. Only 16 or 17 years old, young Parker had heard that Old Man Smith was making threats against him, and he left Iron County. However, John Smith started in pursuit and overtook the kid at Greeley. The boy begged for his life, but Smith gunned him down with a Winchester rifle.
It was revealed at the time that both the Parker family and the Smiths were originally from Crawford County and that the trouble between them had apparently started with a dispute over ownership of a cow. Shortly after the cow dispute, the mother of the Parker boys had found Old Man Smith asleep at a picnic "--presumably the worse for liquor--and hit him over the head with a club." For this, John Smith and his son vowed revenge.
The stated cause of the feud between the two families is perhaps accurate, but the problem with the story about the elder Smith shooting and killing the teenaged Parker is that it seemingly never happened. There appears to be no further mention of such an incident in any regional newspapers after the initial report. However, John Smith was tried in late December 1913 for being an accessory to the murder of Richard Smith. He was convicted of manslaughter, sentenced to two years in the Missouri state pen, and released after a year and half under the three-fourths law.
When John Smith stooped to pick up a couple of rocks, Parker pulled a gun from his pocket and shot the younger Smith, who fell to the ground. Parker started to flee, but he'd taken only a few steps when the mortally wounded Smith raised up and unloaded a shotgun at the retreating man. Parker collapsed and died almost instantly, while Jim Smith lived another six hours.
Both of the deceased young men worked in the timber camps of southeast Missouri, and it was assumed that there had been prior trouble between them, but exactly what that trouble might have been was not brought out at the inquest held over Parker's body later on the same day as the killings. It was expected that John Smith would be charged as an accessory before the fact in the death of Parker.
The uproar over the double murder had scarcely calmed when a report surfaced that the feud between the Parkers and Smiths had erupted into violence again, resulting in what was described as a "cold-blooded and brutal murder." On August 5, barely a week after the first incident, John Smith supposedly shot and killed Richard Parker's younger brother at Greeley, about 20 miles from Brixby in neighboring Reynolds County. Only 16 or 17 years old, young Parker had heard that Old Man Smith was making threats against him, and he left Iron County. However, John Smith started in pursuit and overtook the kid at Greeley. The boy begged for his life, but Smith gunned him down with a Winchester rifle.
It was revealed at the time that both the Parker family and the Smiths were originally from Crawford County and that the trouble between them had apparently started with a dispute over ownership of a cow. Shortly after the cow dispute, the mother of the Parker boys had found Old Man Smith asleep at a picnic "--presumably the worse for liquor--and hit him over the head with a club." For this, John Smith and his son vowed revenge.
The stated cause of the feud between the two families is perhaps accurate, but the problem with the story about the elder Smith shooting and killing the teenaged Parker is that it seemingly never happened. There appears to be no further mention of such an incident in any regional newspapers after the initial report. However, John Smith was tried in late December 1913 for being an accessory to the murder of Richard Smith. He was convicted of manslaughter, sentenced to two years in the Missouri state pen, and released after a year and half under the three-fourths law.
Sunday, February 9, 2025
St. Robert, Missouri
There are numerous examples of towns that grew up in the early days of our country around bodies of water, mineral ore deposits, mineral springs, railroads, or highway crossroads; flourished for a while; and have since disappeared or almost disappeared. In other words, these were towns that started early and fizzled. Much less common are the opposite type: towns that started late and have done nothing but grow and thrive. St. Robert in Pulaski County, Missouri, is one example of the latter type of town that comes to mind.
St. Robert probably would never have come about if it had not been for construction of Fort Leonard Wood near Waynesville at the beginning of World War II. At the time, the only Catholic church in Pulaski County was located at Dixon about 20 miles away. Some of the Catholic soldiers and their families who were stationed at Fort Leonard Wood commuted to Dixon, but they asked about having services closer to the fort. Responding to the request, the Catholic church began holding mass in a theater in Waynesville each Sunday.
After the war, to serve the growing number of Catholic families in the area, a new church was built between Waynesville and Fort Leonard Wood and dedicated in 1951. Father Robert Arnold, the parish priest at Dixon at the time, was instrumental in building the church; so, it was named St. Robert in recognition of his contribution and in honor of St. Robert Bellarmine, a 16th century Jesuit cardinal and scholar canonized in 1930, who was chosen as the parish's patron saint.
The community that grew up around the church also came to be known as St. Robert. At the time it was incorporated in late 1951, the town had a population of about 500, but today it is a thriving town of over 5,000.
Sunday, February 2, 2025
The Freeman-Bible Murder Case
I usually don't write about incidents that happened in the past 25 or 30 years, but when you're writing about Murder and Mayhem in Northeast Oklahoma (https://amzn.to/3Q1Tt7i), it's hard to ignore the Freeman-Bible murder case from 25 years ago, one of the most publicized criminal cases in the history of the region.
In the early morning of December 30, 1999, a woman's body was found in the burning rubble of a mobile home near Welch, Oklahoma. She was identified as Cathy Freeman, and the body of her husband, Danny, was soon discovered in the debris as well. There was no sign, however, of the Freemans' 16-year-old daughter Ashley or Ashley's best friend, Lauria Bible, who'd spent the night with the Freemans.
Arson was suspected, and authorities announced a couple of days later that the victims had been shot prior to the fire. Whoever had killed the Freemans had apparently also abducted the girls.
A region-wide search for the girls was launched, and numerous tips were investigated, but no sign of them was found. One of the few good leads, an automobile insurance card found near the murder scene, was ignored.
The case was highlighted on America’s Most Wanted, but none of the tips generated by the show panned out. But the Bible and Freeman families, especially Lauria's mother, Lorene, did all they could to prevent the case from going cold. Despite their efforts, the investigation gradually came almost to a standstill.
After 18 years of chasing tips that led nowhere, authorities finally got a break in the case in 2017 when the Craig County sheriff found some long-overlooked materials left by a previous sheriff's administration. The following year, authorities announced during a news conference that 66-year-old Ronald Dean Busick had been arrested and charged in the murders of Danny and Cathy Freeman and the abduction and subsequent murders of Ashley Freeman and Lauria Bible. Two other suspects in the case, Warren Philip Welch II and David A. Pennington, had died in 2007 and 2015 respectively.
According to authorities, the three men had gone to the Freeman home around midnight December 30, 1999, to collect a drug-related debt when the girls walked in unexpectedly. Welch was thought to be the leader of the gang and the trigger man who killed Danny and Cathy Freeman, while the other two men set fire to their trailer.
The three men abducted the girls and took them to Welch’s trailer home in Picher, where they tortured and raped them over a period of days before strangling them to death and dumping their bodies in a local mine pit. It was revealed at the time of the news conference that the case could have been solved very early on if authorities had followed up on the auto insurance card found by private investigators just a day or two after the murder of the Freemans, because it would have led them to Welch.
Although Busick got off with a light sentence in a plea deal in which he promised to help find the bodies of the missing girls, they have never been found, and the quest to bring the girls home continues to this day. New searches are undertaken as new leads come to light. Anyone with information that might be relevant to the girls’ whereabouts can contact authorities or contact the Bible family through a Facebook page entitled Find Lauria Bible-BBI.
In the early morning of December 30, 1999, a woman's body was found in the burning rubble of a mobile home near Welch, Oklahoma. She was identified as Cathy Freeman, and the body of her husband, Danny, was soon discovered in the debris as well. There was no sign, however, of the Freemans' 16-year-old daughter Ashley or Ashley's best friend, Lauria Bible, who'd spent the night with the Freemans.
Arson was suspected, and authorities announced a couple of days later that the victims had been shot prior to the fire. Whoever had killed the Freemans had apparently also abducted the girls.
A region-wide search for the girls was launched, and numerous tips were investigated, but no sign of them was found. One of the few good leads, an automobile insurance card found near the murder scene, was ignored.
The case was highlighted on America’s Most Wanted, but none of the tips generated by the show panned out. But the Bible and Freeman families, especially Lauria's mother, Lorene, did all they could to prevent the case from going cold. Despite their efforts, the investigation gradually came almost to a standstill.
After 18 years of chasing tips that led nowhere, authorities finally got a break in the case in 2017 when the Craig County sheriff found some long-overlooked materials left by a previous sheriff's administration. The following year, authorities announced during a news conference that 66-year-old Ronald Dean Busick had been arrested and charged in the murders of Danny and Cathy Freeman and the abduction and subsequent murders of Ashley Freeman and Lauria Bible. Two other suspects in the case, Warren Philip Welch II and David A. Pennington, had died in 2007 and 2015 respectively.
According to authorities, the three men had gone to the Freeman home around midnight December 30, 1999, to collect a drug-related debt when the girls walked in unexpectedly. Welch was thought to be the leader of the gang and the trigger man who killed Danny and Cathy Freeman, while the other two men set fire to their trailer.
The three men abducted the girls and took them to Welch’s trailer home in Picher, where they tortured and raped them over a period of days before strangling them to death and dumping their bodies in a local mine pit. It was revealed at the time of the news conference that the case could have been solved very early on if authorities had followed up on the auto insurance card found by private investigators just a day or two after the murder of the Freemans, because it would have led them to Welch.
Although Busick got off with a light sentence in a plea deal in which he promised to help find the bodies of the missing girls, they have never been found, and the quest to bring the girls home continues to this day. New searches are undertaken as new leads come to light. Anyone with information that might be relevant to the girls’ whereabouts can contact authorities or contact the Bible family through a Facebook page entitled Find Lauria Bible-BBI.
Saturday, January 25, 2025
The Girl Scout Murders
Another chapter in my Murder and Mayhem in Northeast Oklahoma book https://amzn.to/3Cp6apB concerns the infamous murders at the Camp Scott Girl Scout camp near Locust Grove in 1977. On Monday morning, June 13, three little girls, ages 8 to 10, were discovered dead near or inside their tent. They had been bludgeoned, and at least two of them had been sexually molested.
One day after the photos were published, three women from southwestern Oklahoma were identified as the women in the pictures. The photos had been taken at a wedding in the Mangum-Granite area in 1968. How did such photos turn up 300 miles away nine years later near the site of a brutal crime?
The answer came when it was learned on June 23 that Locust Grove native Gene Leroy Hart had developed the photos while incarcerated at the Granite Reformatory almost ten years earlier. Hart, a convicted rapist who’d been at large ever since his escape from the Mayes County Jail in 1973, was promptly named as the prime suspect in the murder of the three Girl Scouts. Authorities speculated that he might have been hiding out in the rugged hills surrounding the Girl Scout camp ever since his escape because he knew the countryside well, was considered a “real backwoodsman, and had friends in the area who might have sheltered him. A thirty-three-year-old “huskily built Cherokee Indian,” Hart was described as a “seven-time loser” whose run-ins with the law dated to his youth.
Hart continued to elude lawmen until he was finally captured on April 6, 1978, near Bunch, Oklahoma. At his trial in March of 1979, the prosecution called an Oklahoma state chemist who testified that hair taken from the body of one of the dead girls microscopically matched hair samples taken from Hart after his arrest. Another expert witness said that sperm samples taken from Hart’s underwear after his arrest were very similar to swabs taken from the bodies of the murder victim. Also, items taken from the tent of a counselor at the Girl Scout campground about the time of the murders were later found in the cabin where Hart was arrested. The defense countered that law officers made up their minds early on that Hart was guilty, that they never adequately investigated other possibilities, and that they might even have planted evidence against the defendant.
The jury returned a quick verdict of not guilty, and the courtroom erupted into pandemonium as Hart’s many family members and other supporters jumped up shouting and applauding. Officers involved in the investigation, on the other hand, were shocked and dismayed by the verdict. The county sheriff, for instance, said he did not intend to re-open the investigation because “we had the right man.”
Although he’d been acquitted of the Girl Scout murders, Hart was transported to the state prison at McAlester to resume serving sentences totaling 145 to 305 years for rape, kidnapping, and burglary that he faced at the time of his escape from the Mayes County Jail.
On June 4, 1979, barely over two months after his acquittal, Hart collapsed and died from a massive heart attack after exercising in the prison yard.
Despite Hart’s acquittal, most, if not all, law enforcement officials associated with the case remained convinced that Hart was guilty, and years later, DNA forensics strongly suggested that authorities did, indeed, have “the right man.”
This is a greatly condensed version of the chapter in my book.
The remaining girls at the camp were sent home, as an investigation into the murders was launched. No suspects were identified in the immediate aftermath of the crime, although authorities were working from the theory that one person, a man, committed the heinous deed. An official who was not directly involved in the investigation further revealed that lawmen had their eye on a man with a history of child molestation, but he would not name the person.
Investigators theorized that the killer had entered the campground on foot and that he was familiar with the area and the layout of the camp. However, no solid leads were developed during the first week or so after the killings. Lawmen then released for publication two tattered pictures, containing the images of three women, which had been found near the site of the murders, and they asked for the public’s help in identifying the women in the hope that the pictures might have been left by the killer.
Investigators theorized that the killer had entered the campground on foot and that he was familiar with the area and the layout of the camp. However, no solid leads were developed during the first week or so after the killings. Lawmen then released for publication two tattered pictures, containing the images of three women, which had been found near the site of the murders, and they asked for the public’s help in identifying the women in the hope that the pictures might have been left by the killer.
One day after the photos were published, three women from southwestern Oklahoma were identified as the women in the pictures. The photos had been taken at a wedding in the Mangum-Granite area in 1968. How did such photos turn up 300 miles away nine years later near the site of a brutal crime?
The answer came when it was learned on June 23 that Locust Grove native Gene Leroy Hart had developed the photos while incarcerated at the Granite Reformatory almost ten years earlier. Hart, a convicted rapist who’d been at large ever since his escape from the Mayes County Jail in 1973, was promptly named as the prime suspect in the murder of the three Girl Scouts. Authorities speculated that he might have been hiding out in the rugged hills surrounding the Girl Scout camp ever since his escape because he knew the countryside well, was considered a “real backwoodsman, and had friends in the area who might have sheltered him. A thirty-three-year-old “huskily built Cherokee Indian,” Hart was described as a “seven-time loser” whose run-ins with the law dated to his youth.
Hart continued to elude lawmen until he was finally captured on April 6, 1978, near Bunch, Oklahoma. At his trial in March of 1979, the prosecution called an Oklahoma state chemist who testified that hair taken from the body of one of the dead girls microscopically matched hair samples taken from Hart after his arrest. Another expert witness said that sperm samples taken from Hart’s underwear after his arrest were very similar to swabs taken from the bodies of the murder victim. Also, items taken from the tent of a counselor at the Girl Scout campground about the time of the murders were later found in the cabin where Hart was arrested. The defense countered that law officers made up their minds early on that Hart was guilty, that they never adequately investigated other possibilities, and that they might even have planted evidence against the defendant.
The jury returned a quick verdict of not guilty, and the courtroom erupted into pandemonium as Hart’s many family members and other supporters jumped up shouting and applauding. Officers involved in the investigation, on the other hand, were shocked and dismayed by the verdict. The county sheriff, for instance, said he did not intend to re-open the investigation because “we had the right man.”
Although he’d been acquitted of the Girl Scout murders, Hart was transported to the state prison at McAlester to resume serving sentences totaling 145 to 305 years for rape, kidnapping, and burglary that he faced at the time of his escape from the Mayes County Jail.
On June 4, 1979, barely over two months after his acquittal, Hart collapsed and died from a massive heart attack after exercising in the prison yard.
Despite Hart’s acquittal, most, if not all, law enforcement officials associated with the case remained convinced that Hart was guilty, and years later, DNA forensics strongly suggested that authorities did, indeed, have “the right man.”
This is a greatly condensed version of the chapter in my book.
Saturday, January 18, 2025
The Murder of Prosecutor Jack Burris
Another chapter in my Murder and Mayhem in Northeast Oklahoma book (https://amzn.to/3CrArEa is about the murder of Mayes County prosecutor Jack Burris at his home near Locust Grove on Saturday night, June 7, 1952. Using headlights from a utility tractor to see by, the thirty-five-year-old Burris was working on an air conditioner beside the house when someone who'd been lurking in the darkness fired a shotgun blast that struck him and killed him instantly.
His wife, Melba, heard the blast, discovered the body, and hysterically telephoned for help. Lawmen arrived to investigate, and they found a spent shotgun shell about 13 feet from the body near a corner of the house. The only theory anyone could offer as a motive for the crime was that Burris had prosecuted someone "too hard," because he was well liked by everybody else.
Investigators found a spent twelve-gauge shotgun shell about twelve or thirteen feet from the body near the southeast corner of the house, which was thought to be the spot from where the assassin fired the gun. The ejector markings on the brass casing of the shell were considered an important clue that might help authorities identify the murder weapon.[v] (Insert Images 042 & 043)
A dragnet was launched in the vicinity of the crime, and bloodhounds were brought in, but these efforts yielded no suspects and few clues. The Oklahoma State Crime Bureau soon entered the investigation. Burris's office safe at the county courthouse was opened, but the papers and other items found offered no definite leads as to who might have wanted the prosecutor killed.
The investigation eventually focused on illegal liquor and gambling activities in the Grand Lake resort area that Burris had been trying to clamp down on in the months prior to his death. On the night of June 26, agents seized a pickup in Miami, Oklahoma, that matched the description of one seen in the Burris neighborhood on the night of the murder. Immediately afterward, they raided seven businesses in the Afton area searching for contraband and possible evidence in the murder case. One of the places raided was owned by T. H. Bluejacket, who also owned another night spot that had been blown to bits four nights earlier, and lawmen thought there might be a connection between the explosion and the murder of Burris. The raiding officers confiscated a number of slot machines and other gambling devices and arrested a few suspects but turned up no solid evidence to point them toward Burris's killer
A Tulsa newspaper published multiple articles complaining about the lack of progress in the Burris case and questioning why certain angles of investigation had been dropped. Why, for instance, had C. E. Dawson, the "slot machine king" who had been linked to the pickup seen in the Burris neighborhood, not been more vigorously pursued as a suspect?
His wife, Melba, heard the blast, discovered the body, and hysterically telephoned for help. Lawmen arrived to investigate, and they found a spent shotgun shell about 13 feet from the body near a corner of the house. The only theory anyone could offer as a motive for the crime was that Burris had prosecuted someone "too hard," because he was well liked by everybody else.
Investigators found a spent twelve-gauge shotgun shell about twelve or thirteen feet from the body near the southeast corner of the house, which was thought to be the spot from where the assassin fired the gun. The ejector markings on the brass casing of the shell were considered an important clue that might help authorities identify the murder weapon.[v] (Insert Images 042 & 043)
A dragnet was launched in the vicinity of the crime, and bloodhounds were brought in, but these efforts yielded no suspects and few clues. The Oklahoma State Crime Bureau soon entered the investigation. Burris's office safe at the county courthouse was opened, but the papers and other items found offered no definite leads as to who might have wanted the prosecutor killed.
The idea that the murder might have been a vengeance killing was more than idle speculation, because Burris had received threats in recent months related to his duties as prosecutor.
The investigation eventually focused on illegal liquor and gambling activities in the Grand Lake resort area that Burris had been trying to clamp down on in the months prior to his death. On the night of June 26, agents seized a pickup in Miami, Oklahoma, that matched the description of one seen in the Burris neighborhood on the night of the murder. Immediately afterward, they raided seven businesses in the Afton area searching for contraband and possible evidence in the murder case. One of the places raided was owned by T. H. Bluejacket, who also owned another night spot that had been blown to bits four nights earlier, and lawmen thought there might be a connection between the explosion and the murder of Burris. The raiding officers confiscated a number of slot machines and other gambling devices and arrested a few suspects but turned up no solid evidence to point them toward Burris's killer
The crime bureau chief said C. E. Dawson, an Afton man known as “the kingpin slot machine operator in the Grand Lake area,” was the owner of the suspect pickup at the time of Burris’s murder. Dawson also owned at least one of the raided nightclubs, but curiously enough, Dawson was not among the men arrested in the sting as possible suspects in the Burris murder
All the men who were arrested in the sting were soon released, and investigators were left floundering for leads in the case. They were still operating under the assumption that the killing was related to gambling and other illegal activities in the Grand Lake region and that it was likely a murder for hire, but they had "no real suspect in the case.” Even the supposed link between the pickup seen at the scene of the crime and the one confiscated in Miami “fizzled” as a lead. In mid-July, the state crime bureau closed the temporary office it had set up in Pryor, the Mayes County seat, shortly after the murder.
A Tulsa newspaper published multiple articles complaining about the lack of progress in the Burris case and questioning why certain angles of investigation had been dropped. Why, for instance, had C. E. Dawson, the "slot machine king" who had been linked to the pickup seen in the Burris neighborhood, not been more vigorously pursued as a suspect?
The case stalled but was a revived in 1953. Dawson was questioned again at that time, but he denied involvement in the Burris murder and was soon released.
Even though investigators with the crime bureau virtually admitted that they knew who had killed Burris, the case gradually went cold for lack of solid evidence, and it officially remains one of Oklahoma's biggest unsolved murder cases, even to this day.
This is a greatly condensed version of the chapter in my M&M in NE OK book.
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