Pomona, Missouri, located about halfway between Willow Springs and West Plains on Highway 63, started out in the 1880s as little more than a big fruit farm located along the line of the Memphis branch of the Frisco Railroad. When the town was platted and a post office established at the location in 1894, it was named Pomona after the Roman goddess of fruit trees.
The place became known for its fruit growing, mainly apples, and the town grew fairly rapidly. By the middle of the first decade of the 20th century, Pomona had a bank, a two-year school, at least one church, and several businesses.
When a Springfield newspaperman visited the place in early 1913, he estimated the town's population at about 700. Apple growing had slowed by this time, and Pomona was known more for its berries, especially strawberries. Among the town's businesses was at least one general store, a blacksmith/woodworker, a livestock dealer, a real estate agent, a doctor, and the bank. The newspaperman reported that Pomona was a "dry territory" and that the law was rigorously enforced.
Pomona has gradually dwindled in population over the years, and today its population is estimated at less than 200. The town no longer has a school of its own, but it does still have a post office and is still a fairly thriving place. For instance, the West Plains Municipal Airport is actually located at Pomona, midway between Howell County's two principal towns.
Friday, July 31, 2026
Saturday, July 25, 2026
Nixa, Missouri
When I was growing up in Fair Grove in the 1950s, Nixa was not a whole lot bigger than Fair Grove was. Fair Grove had a population of about 250, and Nixa had maybe a couple of hundred more than that. But Nixa has completely outstripped Fair Grove (and most of the other towns in the Springfield area) in population growth over the past 60 or 70 years. Nixa's biggest growth spurt occurred during the 1990s, when it ballooned from a population of less than 5,000 to well over 12,000, an increase of almost 160 percent in just ten years. The rapid growth has continued, as the town's population stood at over 23,000 in 2020 and has no doubt surpassed 25,000 by now.
The irony is that Nixa is a relatively new town compared to Fair Grove and some of the other towns around Springfield. The first residence was not built in the future town of Nixa until 1873, and the place got its first post office in 1878. The post office took its name after the store in which it was located, Faught's store, which had come into existence not long before the post office. The place, therefore, became known as Faught. Although the post office served between 150 and 200 families living in the surrounding area, Faught was still not an actual village at this time. However, it became a stopover point for travelers between Arkansas and Springfield as well as a gathering spot for locals.
In 1881, the citizens of the fledgling community decided to come up with a new name, and they decided on Nixa in honor of a local blacksmith named Nicholas, whose middle initial was "A." The name Nixa was formed by combining a pluralized form of the man's nickname (Nick's or Nix) and his middle initial. The post office also changed its name at the same time. The village was not platted as a town, however, until 1889, and it was incorporated in 1902.
A Springfield newspaperman visited Nixa in early 1912 to report on the place. Interestingly, it took him two hours traveling "directly south on South Street" to reach Nixa from Springfield. At this time, Nixa had fifteen places of business, a hotel, and one church (Christian), according to the reporter. You could get a room at the hotel for one dollar per day. Land in the Nixa area was mostly improved and sold for anywhere from $45 to $100 an acre.
For a more complete history of Nixa, check out the one compiled by Paul Johns and Wayne Glenn that appears on the city's website: https://www.nixa.com/nixas-history/.
The irony is that Nixa is a relatively new town compared to Fair Grove and some of the other towns around Springfield. The first residence was not built in the future town of Nixa until 1873, and the place got its first post office in 1878. The post office took its name after the store in which it was located, Faught's store, which had come into existence not long before the post office. The place, therefore, became known as Faught. Although the post office served between 150 and 200 families living in the surrounding area, Faught was still not an actual village at this time. However, it became a stopover point for travelers between Arkansas and Springfield as well as a gathering spot for locals.
In 1881, the citizens of the fledgling community decided to come up with a new name, and they decided on Nixa in honor of a local blacksmith named Nicholas, whose middle initial was "A." The name Nixa was formed by combining a pluralized form of the man's nickname (Nick's or Nix) and his middle initial. The post office also changed its name at the same time. The village was not platted as a town, however, until 1889, and it was incorporated in 1902.
A Springfield newspaperman visited Nixa in early 1912 to report on the place. Interestingly, it took him two hours traveling "directly south on South Street" to reach Nixa from Springfield. At this time, Nixa had fifteen places of business, a hotel, and one church (Christian), according to the reporter. You could get a room at the hotel for one dollar per day. Land in the Nixa area was mostly improved and sold for anywhere from $45 to $100 an acre.
For a more complete history of Nixa, check out the one compiled by Paul Johns and Wayne Glenn that appears on the city's website: https://www.nixa.com/nixas-history/.
Saturday, July 18, 2026
Fordland, Missouri
Fordland, located about 25 miles east of Springfield on U.S. Highway 60, was founded as a stop along the Kansas City, Fort Scott and Memphis Railroad. The town was platted in 1882, when the railroad was constructed through the area, and it was named after J. S. Ford, a railroad official. The community also got its first post office in 1882. It was incorporated the following year, 1883.
When a Springfield newspaper columnist visited Fordland in August 1911, he estimated the town's population at about 500 and said it was growing rapidly. The town served as a shipping and receiving point, and it was a trade center for folks living within an eight to ten-mile radius. Besides being home to a number of businesses, Fordland also had a bank, a canning factory, a roller mill, a high school and four churches.
The Fordland School served grades 1-10, and according to the newspaperman, it had the largest graduating class in Webster County during the prior year, and the class also achieved the highest average grade of all the schools in the county. I find the first claim a little hard to believe, since Marshfield was over twice as populous as Fordland at this time.
The newspaperman said it had been six years since he'd last visited Fordland, and the going price for land surrounding the town had doubled since his last visit from an average of about $20 an acre to about $40 an acre. He thought the advance in price during the next five years would be equally great.
If the Springfield man's estimate of Fordland's population in 1911 was accurate, then the town must have started losing residents fairly rapidly after 1911, because its official population in 1920 was only 248. It has gradually rebounded since then and now boasts about 800 residents.
Saturday, July 11, 2026
Debra Carson and the Battered Woman Syndrome
Bobby Dean Hibbs, 47, had physically and emotionally abused his live-in girlfriend, Debra Carson, throughout their sixteen-month relationship, but when he called her a whore during an altercation near Allendale, Missouri, on Monday night, July 10, 1989, 28-year-old Debra had had enough.
The Worth County sheriff admitted that abuse probably played a part in the shooting, because Debra had bruises around her neck and her face was swollen when she was arrested. She told the sheriff at the time that Hibbs had beaten her in a drunken rage.
The charge against Debra was reduced to second-degree murder, and her trial began at Grant City in September 1990. The prosecutor called several witnesses, including Debra's daughter, and he got the girl to admit that she thought the keys to the pickup were in the ignition when her mother went for the rifle, presumably trying to plant the idea that Debra could have gotten the girl and fled in the vehicle instead of retrieving the weapon. On cross examination, however, the daughter corrected herself to say she didn’t think the keys were in the ignition.
When it came time for the defense to present its case, a whole parade of witnesses took the stand to testify to the abuse Debra had suffered at the hands of Bobby Hibbs. A Kansas City psychologist who conducted an in-depth evaluation of the defendant testified that Debra suffered from “battered woman syndrome” when she shot Hibbs. One of the behaviors typical of this syndrome is what the psychologist called “traumatic bonding,” in which a victim becomes thankful when the abusive person stops beating them rather than being mad at the person. Debra also testified in her own defense, repeating the story of abuse she'd told the newspaperman.
The prosecution called two or three rebuttal witnesses to try to refute the defense’s portrayal of Hibbs as a violent man, but the jury found Debra not guilty by reason of self-defense. The case was something of a landmark decision, because it was one of the first times that the "battered woman syndrome" defense was successfully employed to get a defendant acquitted.
According to later testimony, Hibbs and Ms. Carson had been together most of the afternoon on the day of the shooting. Hibbs had been drinking and became intoxicated by nightfall. He and Debra had been hunting from a pickup truck, using a .22 rifle. Around 10:00 p.m. they got into an argument in front of the farmhouse they’d recently rented southeast of Allendale, and Hibbs accused Debra of being unfaithful. Hibbs starting choking and striking Debra, but she broke free, ran to the pickup, and retrieved the rifle. After threatening Hibbs with the gun, Debra and her eight-year-old daughter, who was with the couple when the fight broke out, started walking up the road away from him. When he came running after them, Debra told him to stop and fired a warning shot into the air, and Hibbs fell to his knees. “Don’t shoot me, please,” he allegedly said. “I love you, but you are a whore.”
“I won’t take that anymore,” Debra snapped as she opened fire with the semi-automatic rifle. One of the shots struck Hibbs in the chest, and he collapsed and rolled to the side of the road.
Debra and her daughter hopped in the pickup, and Debra drove to a neighbor’s house, from where authorities were summoned. Hibbs was lying dead at the side of the road when officers arrived.
“I won’t take that anymore,” Debra snapped as she opened fire with the semi-automatic rifle. One of the shots struck Hibbs in the chest, and he collapsed and rolled to the side of the road.
Debra and her daughter hopped in the pickup, and Debra drove to a neighbor’s house, from where authorities were summoned. Hibbs was lying dead at the side of the road when officers arrived.
Debra Carson was arrested, charged with first-degree murder, but then released on $50,000 bond. While out on bail, she moved to Kansas City, where a newspaper reporter interviewed her in early August. She'd lived a hard life even before she met Hibbs, and she said her relationship with him was "punctuated by bizarre sexual and religious experiences" and that he often got drunk and beat her. She said she still loved him, though, and always would. She didn't think she should have been charged with anything other than self-defense.
The Worth County sheriff admitted that abuse probably played a part in the shooting, because Debra had bruises around her neck and her face was swollen when she was arrested. She told the sheriff at the time that Hibbs had beaten her in a drunken rage.
The charge against Debra was reduced to second-degree murder, and her trial began at Grant City in September 1990. The prosecutor called several witnesses, including Debra's daughter, and he got the girl to admit that she thought the keys to the pickup were in the ignition when her mother went for the rifle, presumably trying to plant the idea that Debra could have gotten the girl and fled in the vehicle instead of retrieving the weapon. On cross examination, however, the daughter corrected herself to say she didn’t think the keys were in the ignition.
When it came time for the defense to present its case, a whole parade of witnesses took the stand to testify to the abuse Debra had suffered at the hands of Bobby Hibbs. A Kansas City psychologist who conducted an in-depth evaluation of the defendant testified that Debra suffered from “battered woman syndrome” when she shot Hibbs. One of the behaviors typical of this syndrome is what the psychologist called “traumatic bonding,” in which a victim becomes thankful when the abusive person stops beating them rather than being mad at the person. Debra also testified in her own defense, repeating the story of abuse she'd told the newspaperman.
The prosecution called two or three rebuttal witnesses to try to refute the defense’s portrayal of Hibbs as a violent man, but the jury found Debra not guilty by reason of self-defense. The case was something of a landmark decision, because it was one of the first times that the "battered woman syndrome" defense was successfully employed to get a defendant acquitted.
The story above is condensed from a chapter in my book Gangster Queen Bonnie Parker and Other Murderous Women of Missouri https://amzn.to/4pc3gbK.
Saturday, July 4, 2026
The Story of Evelyn Shire
The prosecution and the defense largely agreed on the events surrounding the Evelyn Shire murder case. In the wee hours of Sunday morning, August 7, 1988, Evelyn, 45, entered the home south of Lebanon, Missouri, where she and her estranged husband, John, had alternately been staying in recent weeks. When she found John, 46, in bed with his girlfriend, Judith Perryman, she shot him in the head with a .20-gauge shotgun. The only real question at Evelyn’s trial sixteen months later was whether she was so emotionally distressed at the time as to constitute temporary insanity.
John Shire had filed for divorce from Evelyn in October 1987, and he started dating Judith Perryman shortly afterwards. The divorce decree was issued in July 1988, but Evelyn, upset that she was not awarded custody of her sixteen-year-old son or possession of the farmhouse where they had lived, appealed the divorce settlement. The divorce was, therefore, not finalized, and the couple was still legally married.
At odds over terms of the divorce, Evelyn and John often argued in the weeks leading up to the shooting. Evelyn said later that Shire mocked her, sometimes beat her, and tampered with her automobile and other personal belongings. All the while he was openly dating Judith Perryman and going out with mutual friends, which humiliated Evelyn and added to her mental anguish.
One of the things the estranged couple particularly argued about was possession of the house, located ten miles south of Lebanon on Highway HH, and they more or less took turns living there. Evelyn claimed she had been staying at the Shire home in early August 1988, but when she drove there on the night of the 6th, she was surprised to find John there with Judith Perryman.
According to Judith's version of events, John had gone to bed early that night, and she'd joined him later. About 3:30 a.m. she was awakened by a light in the bedroom, and she saw Evelyn Shire standing near the bed. “Honey, Eve’s here,” Judith told John, but before he could awaken, Evelyn shot him just beneath the nose with a shotgun blast that killed him instantly. Evelyn left, and Ms. Perryman, who was uninjured, called authorities. Evelyn was arrested about an hour later at her daughter’s home in Lebanon.
Evelyn was charged with first-degree murder, and she pleaded not guilty at her preliminary hearing a month later. After a court-ordered examination to ascertain her mental fitness, her trial got underway in December 1989 in Lebanon. Judith Perryman repeated her story for the prosecution, and Evelyn took the stand in her own defense. She claimed to have blacked out and didn't really remember what happened after she saw her husband in bed nude with Perryman.
The jury deliberated for three hours before reaching a compromise verdict. They found Evelyn guilty of second-degree murder and recommended a sentence of life imprisonment but with the possibility of parole. Evelyn appealed the verdict, but the Missouri Court of Appeals upheld it, and she is still incarcerated 35 years later.
John Shire had filed for divorce from Evelyn in October 1987, and he started dating Judith Perryman shortly afterwards. The divorce decree was issued in July 1988, but Evelyn, upset that she was not awarded custody of her sixteen-year-old son or possession of the farmhouse where they had lived, appealed the divorce settlement. The divorce was, therefore, not finalized, and the couple was still legally married.
At odds over terms of the divorce, Evelyn and John often argued in the weeks leading up to the shooting. Evelyn said later that Shire mocked her, sometimes beat her, and tampered with her automobile and other personal belongings. All the while he was openly dating Judith Perryman and going out with mutual friends, which humiliated Evelyn and added to her mental anguish.
One of the things the estranged couple particularly argued about was possession of the house, located ten miles south of Lebanon on Highway HH, and they more or less took turns living there. Evelyn claimed she had been staying at the Shire home in early August 1988, but when she drove there on the night of the 6th, she was surprised to find John there with Judith Perryman.
According to Judith's version of events, John had gone to bed early that night, and she'd joined him later. About 3:30 a.m. she was awakened by a light in the bedroom, and she saw Evelyn Shire standing near the bed. “Honey, Eve’s here,” Judith told John, but before he could awaken, Evelyn shot him just beneath the nose with a shotgun blast that killed him instantly. Evelyn left, and Ms. Perryman, who was uninjured, called authorities. Evelyn was arrested about an hour later at her daughter’s home in Lebanon.
Evelyn was charged with first-degree murder, and she pleaded not guilty at her preliminary hearing a month later. After a court-ordered examination to ascertain her mental fitness, her trial got underway in December 1989 in Lebanon. Judith Perryman repeated her story for the prosecution, and Evelyn took the stand in her own defense. She claimed to have blacked out and didn't really remember what happened after she saw her husband in bed nude with Perryman.
The jury deliberated for three hours before reaching a compromise verdict. They found Evelyn guilty of second-degree murder and recommended a sentence of life imprisonment but with the possibility of parole. Evelyn appealed the verdict, but the Missouri Court of Appeals upheld it, and she is still incarcerated 35 years later.
This post is a condensed version of a chapter in my book Gangster Queen Bonnie Parker and Other Murderous Women of Missouri https://www.amazon.com/Gangster-Bonnie-Parker-Murderous-Missouri/dp/1467170925/ref.
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