Ernest McCormack's Murder of William Hallack

On the night of September 14, 1922, someone shot and killed twenty-one-year-old service station attendant William Hallack as he was getting ready to close the Standard filling station where he worked at the corner of Jefferson and Center (i.e. Central) in Springfield. William McCormack, a twenty-two-year-old Springfield man, was quickly identified as a suspect, and he was arrested the next morning at his parents' home on East Monroe. Taken to the Greene County Jail, McCormack made a full confession later the same day.
He said he was with another young man, Harold Willey, on the afternoon of the 14th when the idea came to him to rob the filling station, because he wanted money to go to Kansas City the next day with Willey and his family. However, he said he never mentioned his plan to Willey and that he went back to the station that night alone with plans to hold it up. When he told the attendant to put up his hands, Hallack started to comply, then laughed and dropped his hands, saying "You can't fool me." McCormack panicked and shot the man with a .45 Colt pistol. He then started running without taking time to try to get any money. He raced north, threw the weapon into Jordan Creek as he crossed the trestle on Benton Avenue, and proceeded to his home on Monroe.
McCormack's account of what happened, however, conflicted with several reports from eyewitnesses. According to at least one or two of the reports, two men in a car had stopped near the filling station about the time of the holdup, the passenger got out while the driver remained in the car, and the passenger soon jumped back into the car as it took off.
A day or two after the crime, it was reported in a Springfield paper that McCormack was recently discharged from the US Navy. In fact, according to military records, McCormack was a deserter, having absconded while stationed in the state of Washington. Later it was also reported in Springfield that McCormack was on parole from a robbery charge in the state of Washington. So, it's possible that the arrest for robbery had something to do with why he was listed as a deserter in Navy records.
Investigators soon discounted the eyewitness accounts suggesting that McCormack might have had a getaway driver, because the shooter's insistence that he left the scene on foot was corroborated by other witnesses. Witty was nonetheless arrested as an accomplice to the crime after McCormack changed his story and admitted that he had discussed the idea of robbing the station with Witty ahead of time and that he obtained the pistol he used in the crime from Witty. Also, McCormack now claimed that he had discharged the gun accidentally when he killed Hallack.
Nevertheless, when his case came up in November, he pleaded guilty to first-degree murder. A Springfield reporter remarked at the time on how unusual it was for a person to plead guilty to a first-degree murder charge. Defendants often pleaded guilty to second-degree murder, especially if they had originally been charged with first degree murder, but rarely did anybody admit to first-degree murder.
At Witty's preliminary examination in December, McCormack, whom the prosecution was counting on to be its star witness, changed his story again and said he'd lied about discussing the idea of robbing the station with Witty ahead of time. He did admit that he borrowed the gun from Witty, but he said Witty did not know what he wanted it for. Considering McCormack's testimony, the state dropped its charges against Witty.
In January 1923, McCormack was sentenced to life in the state penitentiary at Jefferson City. He was paroled, however, in 1943 after serving a little over twenty years. He was discharged altogether in 1948, and he got his citizenship restored the next year.

A Voodoo Murder?

I think I've remarked on this blog before that one of the ways discrimination against black people manifested itself in the 1880s and early 1900s was the disproportionately small amount of coverage that events involving exclusively black people was given in newspapers. When I remarked on this phenomenon before, I used being the victim of a crime as a glaring example. If a white person killed or assaulted another white person it was usually big news, and if a black person killed or assaulted a white person, it was also big news, with the thrust of the story often being a portrayal of the black person as a brute. This was especially true if a black man assaulted or molested a white woman. However, if a white person killed a black person, the incident was usually not as widely reported, and when it was reported, the story sometimes was written in such a context as to justify the white man's action. And when a black person killed or assaulted another black person, the incident might not even make the news at all. The attitude often seemed to be, "So what?
An incident that happened in Springfield in early 1929 will serve as another example of this. On February 1, a 38-year-old black man named Charles Nunley, who lived on the west side of Fassnight Park, accused his wife of being unfaithful and started "running amuck." He first shot and wounded Ross Cook, a black man who lived in the neighborhood and who might have been the man Nunley suspected his wife was cheating with. Nunley next shot and killed his wife and then turned the gun on himself, shooting and seriously injuring himself.
I could find no mention of this incident in Springfield newspapers at the time it happened. I only learned the date of the incident and a couple of other details mentioned above because I found a very small story about the incident in another Missouri newspaper.
The Springfield newspapers only picked up on the story after Nunley had been convicted in mid-March of second-degree murder in the shooting death of his wife and sentenced to 10 years in the state prison. And seemingly the only reason the story was given much print even at this time was that a novel and sensational element to the story had allegedly been uncovered, which gave the reporter an opportunity to poke fun at the black people involved and to make light of the whole incident.
"Strange tales of a negro voodoo doctor and of mysterious haunts and charms invoked by him for a growing following of Springfield negroes came to light today," said the reporter, "following the recent trial here of Charles Nunley, young negro, for the murder of his wife."
The reporter went on to explain that many blacks were convinced that strange "ha'nts" produced by an old black man named Anderson Carr, who lived on East Division Street, were indirectly responsible for the slaying of Nunley's wife. The rumor was that Nunley, having heard whisperings of his wife's infidelity, forced her to accompany him on the night before the shooting to Carr's home, where he obtained two bags of herbs as charms to discourage the illicit friendship. About the same time, Nunley's  neighbor Ross supposedly placed some spells on Nunley's well water and his milk bottle. Either Ross's "ha'nt" was stronger than Nunley's, or else Nunley's attempt to ward off his wife's infidelity with charms backfired. At any rate, many of the black people of Springfield were convinced that Nunley, who they said was a longtime practitioner of voodoo, killed his wife at least partly because of his involvement in the mysterious religion, with its spells and charms.
Nunley himself, however, denied that "old man Carr" had anything to do with what happened. Nunley said Carr was just "an old herb doctor" that used to help him with his rheumatism. When the reporter broached the subject of voodoo, Nunley didn't want to talk about it. He did say, however, that if justice had been done in his case, he wouldn't be in jail. He also added that no one should blame him for killing his wife.
Nunley was received at the state prison in Jeff City on March 26, 1929, to begin serving his 10-year stint. He was paroled by the governor on June 15, 1933, after serving a little over four years of his term. Two years later, he got his citizenship restored.

The Murder of Eben Brewer and Hanging of James McAfee

Saturday, July 31, 1897, was payday for the miners of Joplin, and the downtown area swarmed with people. James McAfee was among those roaming the streets. A “tough character,” McAfee had been a miner himself until he strained his back the previous Tuesday and “took a layoff.” Perhaps his lack of work prompted the desperate plan he devised that night. Sometime during the evening McAfee proposed to an acquaintance, Ben Shoemaker, that they team up and rob Joplin storekeeper Eben Brewer when Brewer started home later that night.

Shoemaker ostensibly agreed, but instead of carrying through with the crime, he reported McAfee’s plan to deputy constable Frank English. The constable, in turn, revealed the scheme to Brewer, who suggested that he and the police lay a trap for McAfee. Brewer would close up and start home as normal, but, unbeknownst to McAfee, he would be armed and the officers would also be lying in wait for the robber. English advised against the plan, telling the storekeeper that the police force was short-handed, but young Brewer insisted, explaining that he would enlist the help of his father-in-law, Joe Shelver.

Constable English went back out on the streets and stayed busy until late in the evening. He’d promised Brewer to take up a position near the store by eleven o’clock, but it was a quarter after by the time he arrived at the business, located at 1213 Main Street. Another man, whom English didn’t recognize, came in about the same time he did, purchased a pack of chewing gum, and then went to the water pail to get a drink. While the man was drinking, English asked Brewer in a hushed tone whether McAfee had made an appearance. The storekeeper winked and motioned toward the man at the water pail, who left about that time through the back door.

English offered to escort Brewer home and again tried to talk him out of his scheme to catch McAfee red-handed. Brewer insisted that the “matinee should come off at once.” Explaining his plan, he said he would leave the store accompanied by his father-in-law. Brewer would have a revolver concealed in a paper sack, and Shelver would have a double handful of red pepper to throw in the robber’s eyes. If McAfee ordered Brewer to throw up his hands, he would raise them with the sack in his hand and shoot through the sack while his father-in-law threw the pepper in the crook’s eyes.

English thought it was a dangerous plan, but Brewer still insisted. Agreeing to take up the best position he could, English left and hid at the south end of the alley behind the store. Meanwhile, officer Ben May, along with Shoemaker, the police informant, stationed themselves at the north end of the alley. Brewer and Shelver left by the front entrance when they closed the store. They then walked to the south side of the building, where they turned east across a vacant lot toward the alley. Brewer’s home was located on the west side of Virginia Avenue adjoining the alley and almost directly behind the store, but just as he and Shelver reached the alley, McAfee stepped out from behind an outhouse blocking Shelver’s path. Shelver tried to throw the pepper in his assailant’s eyes, but a gust of wind blew it back in Shelver’s own eyes. He took off running, and McAfee fired an errant shot at him. The robber then turned and fired at Brewer, hitting him in the side. Brewer staggered across the alley to the turnstile leading into his backyard, where he opened fired on McAfee but missed. 

Immediately after the first shots rang out, Constable English saw a shadowy figure racing toward him in the alley. English called “halt,” and when the man obeyed, the constable recognized him as Shelver. Looking down the alley toward the scene of the crime, English saw McAfee fleeing north about eighty feet away. He fired two shots at the suspect but missed. Upon reaching the north end of the alley, McAfee encountered Shoemaker and Officer May, who fired a hail of bullets at him, but he managed to “run the gauntlet” and make his escape.

Very soon afterwards, however, McAfee was arrested on suspicion because of blood on his shirt and other incriminating circumstances. English identified him as the man who’d been in the store just before the shooting, and Shoemaker said he was the man who’d tried to recruit him to help hold up Brewer. Still, McAfee denied his guilt.

Doctors who treated Eben Brewer after the shooting held out little hope for his recovery, and as word of the deadly assault spread, a mob formed and talked of lynching McAfee. He was taken for safekeeping to the Jasper County Jail at Carthage, where he finally broke down the next day and confessed the crime. The victim died a day or two later, and McAfee was charged with first-degree murder.

McAfee’s case came up in the circuit court at Carthage in late April 1898, and the jury came back on May 4 with a guilty verdict. The judge sentenced McAfee to hang, but the execution was stayed pending an appeal to the Missouri Supreme Court. The high court affirmed the decision of the lower court in early March 1899, and, after a gubernatorial stay, the execution date was set for July 6. About mid-morning on that date, McAfee was led from the jail, by means of a stairway through a window, directly onto the scaffold, which had been erected inside a stockade on the courthouse grounds. Crowds of curiosity-seekers milled around, but only about fifty people were allowed inside the stockade to witness the hanging. McAfee was positioned on the trap door, and the sheriff sprang the trap launching him into eternity at 9:52 a.m.
Like my last three blog entries, this one is condensed from a chapter in my new book, Midnight Assassinations and Other Evildoings: A Criminal History of Jasper County, Mo. The book is available at your online superstore, or if you live in the Joplin area, at Always Buying Books.

First Legal Hanging in Jasper County

The past couple of weeks, my blog entries have been condensed from chapters in my latest book, Midnight Assassinations and Other Evildoings: A Criminal History of Jasper County, Mo. This week's entry is also condensed from the same book. It concerns John Able's killing of John “Wick” Lane, which actually occurred in McDonald County in 1874, but, after a change of venue, the crime ultimately led to the first legal hanging in Jasper County in February of 1878. Able’s execution was also the only truly public hanging ever held in Jasper County.

Able had married a pretty young girl named Martha Dewitt in Indiana in 1867 when he was a forty-nine-year-old widower and she was just sixteen. They came to Missouri shortly after the marriage and settled in western McDonald County about 1872. Described by one observer as “a fascinating, buxom, plump little creature,” Martha “did not lean to ‘virtue’s side’ but ran off in the opposite direction.” She soon tired of the old man and sought the embrace of younger suitors. 

In the spring of 1874, Martha ran away with a married man from the neighborhood named Neil Dodson, and Able suspected that another young man, John “Wick” Lane, was in on the scheme and knew the whereabouts of the runaway lovers. Lane denied it and offered to help the old man track the pair down, if Able would pay him. Able had no horse of his own; so, he and Lane set off together taking turns riding Lane’s horse. They went northeast into Newton County and beyond but turned up no sign of the missing couple. Upon their return to McDonald County, Ables again grew suspicious of Lane, thinking he had led him on a wild goose chase in order to give Dodson and Martha more time to escape. Able and Lane were seen together in the vicinity of Big Sugar Creek in eastern McDonald County on April 16, and the next day, Lane’s dead body was found not far from where he and Able had been seen together. The dead man had been shot twice, and his revolver was missing from its holster. The position of the body suggested that the killing had been done execution style, in cold blood. At least, that was the theory pursued by the state in subsequent legal proceedings.

Suspicion toward Able mounted when he sold a horse and tried to sell a pistol that were identified as belonging to Lane. Able fled to Indian Territory but was soon captured there by the McDonald County sheriff and brought back to Missouri.
Able was indicted in McDonald County but received a change of venue to Jasper County. Although Able insisted he did not kill Lane, he scarcely cooperated with his court-appointed attorneys, and he was found guilty of first-degree murder at Carthage in March of 1875. The Supreme Court overturned the verdict, but Able was again convicted on retrial in October 1877. Able's lawyers again appealed, but this time the high court sustained the lower court's verdict. 

The execution was set for January 18, 1878, and the evening prior to that date, Able finally gave a full confession, admitting that he had killed Lane claiming he'd done so in self defense when he and the younger man got into a violent argument. The reason he had not admitted the truth from the beginning, he said, was that his lawyer in McDonald County had told him to keep his mouth shut and he thought, even after his case had been moved to Jasper County and he'd been assigned new attorneys, that he should continue to heed that advice. 

His argument with Lane, Able said, resulted when he demanded to know where Martha was and the younger man lied to him. Lane told him another young man named Andy Fleming had taken Martha to Texas, but Able knew that was not true because Fleming was still at home when Able and Lane had set out in search of Able's wife. During the ensuing argument, Lane finally admitted that Dodson had taken Martha to Arkansas and that Fleming was planning to meet her down there. The two men scuffled as the argument grew even more heated, and Able ended up shooting Lane when he made a lunge for a pistol he had dropped during the scuffle.

Jasper County authorities, including the sheriff, tended to believe Able's story, and they tried to intercede with the governor on the condemned man's behalf. A temporary reprieve was granted and the hanging reset for February 15, but the governor ultimately refused to pardon the convicted killer. In the early afternoon of February 15, Able marched onto a scaffold that had been erected west of the jail on the courthouse grounds and dropped to his death before about 8,000 gaping spectators, who'd gathered for the execution as though it were a festive occasion.  

At the time of the hanging, according to a Carthage newspaper, young Martha was living in Indian Territory in an adulterous relationship with Andy Fleming, the man who'd instigated the string of tragic events that led to Able's execution.