Where did the Dixie Mafia begin? It all began with the corruption of Phenix City, Alabama. In this video, Synova introduces you to the corruption of Phenix City.
For those of you who don’t believe in the existence of the Dixie Mafia consider this. Three full years before the R.I.C.O. act was used in New York to take down the Italian Mafia, it was used in Georgia to take down Dixie Mafia Kingpin John “J.C.” Hawkins.
Everyone has heard how the U.S. Attorney’s office used the R.I.C.O. act to attack the Italian Mafia and ultimately take it down. Although it still exists to this day, the Mafia isn’t nearly as powerful as it was back in the early 1970s. Even Wikipedia claims the R.I.C.O. act was first used in 1979 to take down the Italians.
While diving deeper into my research of the Dixie Mafia, I found a startling truth. The R.I.C.O. Act wasn’t used first on the Italians. It was used against a Dixie Mafia Kingpin named J.C. Hawkins out of Georgia three full years before the highly-publicized case in New York. Although the Dixie Mafia doesn’t have the structure and organization of the famous Italian crew, this grassroots criminal enterprise spans the southern states like weeds in a garden.
The term “Dixie Mafia” was coined in the 1960s by Mississippi State Police investigator, Rex Armistead. He hoped it would draw the attention of police and the media to the connections between the criminal factions. For decades everyone argued over the existence of the Italian mafia before it became indisputable. Now the same pattern is happening about the Dixie Mafia. While they have been called everything from the Cornbread La Cosa Nostra to the Hillbilly Mob, the fact that there is a criminal organization in the south should be indisputable. Why are people still arguing over this point? I contend Hollywood glamorized the Italian organization and they haven’t touched the southern counterpart.
More about the first RICO indictment:
The R.I.C.O. indictment case out of Macon, GA started with a rock group called the Allman Brothers band.
They were called the “Godfathers of Southern Rock,” but now drug dealers with ties to the Georgia faction of the Dixie Mafia will destroy what’s left of the band.
The Allman Brothers Band had reached the lofty heights of stardom by 1976, but those heights were hard to maintain with ties to Georgia’s faction of the Dixie Mafia. Drugs, band member disputes, lavish living, and one giant push by law enforcement spelled the end of the famous rock group. The band that would be later known for hits like Ramblin Man and Midnight Rider was formed by two brothers Gregg and Duane in 1969. The next seven years would be plagued with trouble, but they would finally scratch their way to the top. Things started falling apart, however, when the eldest brother Duane was killed in a motorcycle accident on October 29, 1971. The band somehow kept it together and seemed stronger than ever, but it wouldn’t last long.
Gregg Allman’s former bodyguard and now road manager, John “Scooter” Herring was allegedly supplying the band and others with narcotics. His activities and his ties to Dixie Mafia Kingpin J. C. Hawkins had come under scrutiny by law enforcement. Scooter’s supplier was a pharmacist Joey Fuchs. At one point Fuchs found his pharmacy stock so obviously low, that he staged a robbery to cover the drugs he had stolen and sold to Herring. Scooter Herring and Joey Fuchs were arrested and indicted on May 30, 1976. Witnesses were called in from around the music industry including Gregg Allman. Everyone in the band refused to “rat out” their friend, but Allman facing charges of his own agreed to testify against his former manager. This action was the final straw that broke up the group.
The feds were happy to take down Fuchs and Herring, but their main target was the big boss J.C. Hawkins. They would get their chance in a much-publicized RICO trial in July 1976. Hawkins and the crew were convicted of several racketeering charges, drug charges and much more. During the trial, the rockstar Gregg Allman had to be under heavy guard. Hawkins, who had a history of taking out witnesses, had put a price on Allman’s head. $100,000 was a lot of money back in 1976, and that’s what the kingpin was willing to pay if someone took out Allman.
Scooter Herring was convicted of five drug charges and sentenced to 75 years in prison. Herring who had also been a former bodyguard for J.C. Hawkins was now behind bars. He refused to snitch on anyone, but Fuchs and Allman didn’t share his sentiment. Viewing Allman’s testimony as an act of betrayal, the band officially broke up. They would reunite on a few occasions over the next few decades, but they would never achieve the same level of success as their first run in the early 1970s.
An appeals court later overturned Herring’s conviction. He would face another trial in 1979 where he would plead guilty to lesser charges and receive five years. Eventually, Scooter received a presidential pardon from Jimmy Carter, and he ended up serving only three years. Many believed he took the rap for Allman, but there wasn’t any proof. Several southern rock groups performed charity concerts and raised the money to foot Scooter’s legal bill. Scooter went on working in the music industry and was beloved by all who knew him. No one will ever know if the allegations were true or false, but Herring spent the rest of his life on the fringes of Rock and Roll as a manager for different bands.
Gregg Allman wrote a book titled My Cross to Bear in later in life. He says he was told by Scooter to pin everything on the big guy. Of course, there is no way to verify this claim. Was the ex-bodyguard still trying to protect the drug-addled celebrity, or was he actually guilty? Who knows? Whatever the case may be, the feds ended up taking down their man Hawkins with the first RICO trial.
THIS OF LINKS IS NOT AN ALL-ENCOMPASSING SOURCE CITING. ALL OF THE INFORMATION USED IN THIS ARTICLE CAN BE EASILY FOUND ONLINE. LINKS BELOW WERE USED AS SOURCES AND ARE RECOMMENDED READING FOR SYNOVA’S READERS. SYNOVA STRIVES TO CITE ALL THE SOURCES USED DURING HER CASE STUDY, BUT OCCASIONALLY A SOURCE MAY BE MISSED BY MISTAKE. IT IS NOT INTENTIONAL, AND NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED.
EACH WEEK SYNOVA HIGHLIGHTS OBSCURE COLD CASES ON HER BLOG AS A VICTIMS’ ADVOCATE WITH MISSOURI MISSING ORGANIZATION. SHE NEVER CHARGES FOR HER SERVICES. IF YOU’D LIKE TO SUPPORT HER IN THIS WORTHY CAUSE, PLEASE CHECK OUT THE AFFILIATE LINKS ON THIS PAGE. BY PURCHASING ONE OF HER BOOKS, OR USING THESE LINKS YOU WILL BE SUPPORTING SYNOVA’S WORK ON COLD CASES AND WILL ENSURE HER ABILITY TO CONTINUE TO GIVE A VOICE TO THE VICTIM’S FAMILY.
If you enjoy this content don’t forget to sign up for Synova’s Weekly True Crime Newsletter. You will receive exclusive content directly in your inbox. As a gift for joining you will also receive the Grim Justice ebook free.
“There is no other group anywhere in the country as mobile and as well organized as the Dixie Mafia” – Agent James Duff, Georgia State Organized Crime Intelligence Unit (1974)
Deep in the heart of Dixie lies a hidden evil. It’s tentacles stretch from state to state, from county to county. The Dixie Mafia has produced infamous outlaws, bank robbers, and murderers. The story contains tidbits from each of their lives and even includes the story of a famous sheriff, but this book is not about them.
Silenced by the Dixie Mafia is about a big sister who has fought for answers for over five decades. It’s about a father who was an ex-alcoholic turned into a gambling addict. A father’s decisions would lead to the death of his disabled son and eventually lead to his own demise. Now left alone to find answers and make sense of the chaos is a brave little southern belle named Phyllis.
Tying back to the ambush of Sheriff Buford Pusser on August 12, 1967, this story will change history as we know it. The world knew nothing about the Dixie Mafia until the murders of Judge Vincent Sherry and his wife Margaret in 1987. This public assassination brought this band of ruthless criminals into view, but the truth was still hidden until the death of the Andersons.
A portion of the profits of this book will go to support the Missouri Missing Organization.
The movie Walking Tall tells the Hollywood version of the real-life story of Sherriff Buford Pusser’s war with the Dixie Mafia. A two-hour film cannot possibly explain the entire story, nor can it relate the stories of all the secondary characters. Unfortunately, the story of murder, betrayal, and cover-ups didn’t end with the death of Sherriff Pusser. I will try to relate this massive tale to you, but it may take more than one post.
1967:
The Dixie Mafia was known as the State Line Mob and was led by Carl Douglas “Towhead” White. White was in prison when his lover, Louise Hathcock pulled a gun on Sherriff Pusser and was killed. Upon hearing the news, White called his friend Kirksey Nix, Jr and ordered the hit on Sherriff Pusser and his wife, Pauline.
August 12, 1967:
Sherriff Pusser received a disturbance call in the wee hours before dawn. Pauline Pusser decided to ride along with her husband as she had done on many occasions. The pair drove out to New Hope Road to check it out. The disturbance was a ruse to ambush the young sheriff and his wife.
Pusser passed the New Hope Methodist church looking for the reported disturbance but continued driving when he found the place quiet. A black Cadillac pulled out from behind the church and followed the sheriff with its lights off. As the two cars reached a narrow bridge, the Cadillac flashed on its headlights and came racing up beside the officer’s car.
The Cadillac’s passenger opened fire hitting Pauline in the head. The sheriff ducked stepped on the gas. The engine roared to life, and the car lurched ahead of the assassins. He sped up the road a couple of miles until he was sure he had lost his tail, and then pulled over to check on Pauline. Moments later the assassins again found their mark and gunshots rang out hitting Sherriff Pusser in the face and jaw blowing it apart. Somehow the sheriff would survive the attack, but Pauline was killed.
At first, Pusser declared he knew precisely who was responsible and named Towhead White, George McGann, Gary McDaniel, and Kirksey Nix. After 18 days in the hospital and a dozen surgeries to repair his face, Pusser declared he couldn’t tell who had shot him.
Was it the trauma that caused his amnesia or was the hard-nosed police officer going to exact his own revenge?
Time would witness the deaths of three of the conspirators, but Kirksey Nix would remain on the loose. Legends would be told about the great Buford Pusser, but the story didn’t end with his death in a 1974 car wreck. Kirksey Nix continued and became the head of the Dixie Mafia. By 1987, Nix would be embroiled in another major hit.
Here is where the side stories start creeping into this case. The Dixie Mafia and the State Line Mob were prevalent in the area due to the payoffs of local officials and the coverups by local police departments. This allowed the mob to rule without much interference. Although a few shady officers corrupted the police departments, other lawmen were threatened into silence. At this point in the story, I would like to interject one officer named Lieutenant Dan Anderson of the Harrison County Sherriff’s Department. Six weeks after the ambush of Sherriff Pusser on New Hope Rd, Lt. Dan Anderson’s son, Ronnie Anderson was shot and killed in his apartment. The case was immediately ruled suicide despite massive evidence to the contrary.
What happened to this 17-yr-old polo victim in leg braces?
What kind of threat could he really have been?
I will dive deeper into the case of Ronald Anderson next week and follow up with the murder of his father, Dan. Along the way, we will highlight the nationally publicized case of the slaying of Judge Sherry and his wife. All these bizarre murders are tied together with a delicate string. That string is the Dixie Mafia. Find out more next week when this cold case story continues.
She was known as the Queen of Bootleggers, but she ended up at the bottom of a septic tank piled under 100lbs of rock and debris.
Cleo Epps started as a school teacher with a big heart. Her students said she was more of a mother than a teacher. Born on a farm in Arkansas, the young Cleo not only finished high school but also finished college. Afterward, she moved to rural Oklahoma and taught school. Cleo’s first husband had a drinking problem that would eventually lead to divorce.
Cleo never drank alcohol but ended up marrying a man who became a bootlegger. That’s how a compassionate, soft-hearted school marm became a bootlegging queen. It’s also the beginning of the end for Cleo Epps. Although she eventually divorced for a second time, Cleo kept up the business.
During the 1940s and 1950s, Epps ran moonshine and had regular run-ins with law enforcement. Everyone loved her, even the police, and she would always continue business as usual. By April 1966, Epps was indicted on a multi-million dollar moonshine racket. Authorities claimed her business poured over 2,000 gallons of shine into the Tulsa area monthly.
Cleo Epps was making a lot of money, and it seemed no one could touch her. Although Oklahoma was a dry state, society shrugged off the law and continued to have shine delivered to their homes regularly. By the end of prohibition, Cleo had successfully funneled her illegal income into a legitimate business. Epps became a sort of bank for those people looking to buy a home. She would hold the mortgage and receive the interest payments and principal.
How did she meet such a horrible end?
Cleo Epps had one problem. Although she was a shrewd businesswoman, it seemed she had a problem in the area of relationships. She tended to fall in love with the wrong men, and one of those men would end up plotting her murder.
During her run as the Queen of Bootleggers, Epps had developed many working relationships with various criminals. Some of these men were members of the Dixie Mafia. Thomas Lester Pugh and Albert McDonald were two associates of the moonshine distributor. At one point, Epps had even considered marrying one of them.
On August 25, 1970, a local judge’s car blew up in his driveway in an assassination attempt. The dynamite had been borrowed from Cleo Epps by a man she thought she could trust. When he came by a few days earlier claiming to need dynamite for some tree stump removal projects on his property, she believed him.
Cleo was devastated when she heard the news. Luckily the judge survived, but all Cleo could think about was the judge’s little girl. What if his daughter had gotten in the car to tell her daddy goodbye before he left for work? It was too much for the soft-hearted former bootlegger.
Although she knew her life was at stake, Cleo agreed to testify to a grand jury. She came in complete disguise, and the authorities were supposed to protect her. That didn’t happen.
A short time later, Cleo disappears. Her body was found at the bottom of a septic tank. She had been shot twice in the head and tossed into the tank. Nearly 100lbs of rocks and debris were piled on top of her. Pugh and McDonald were charged with her murder, but somehow Pugh got off due to lack of evidence.
EACH WEEK SYNOVA HIGHLIGHTS OBSCURE COLD CASES ON HER BLOG AS A VICTIMS’ ADVOCATE WITH MISSOURI MISSING ORGANIZATION. SHE NEVER CHARGES FOR HER SERVICES. IF YOU’D LIKE TO SUPPORT HER IN THIS WORTHY CAUSE, PLEASE CHECK OUT THE AFFILIATE LINKS ON THIS PAGE. BY PURCHASING ONE OF HER BOOKS, OR USING THESE LINKS YOU WILL BE SUPPORTING SYNOVA’S WORK ON COLD CASES AND WILL ENSURE HER ABILITY TO CONTINUE TO GIVE A VOICE TO THE VICTIM’S FAMILY.
If you enjoy this content don’t forget to sign up for Synova’s Weekly True Crime Newsletter. You will receive exclusive content directly in your inbox. As a gift for joining you will also receive the Grim Justice ebook free.
Dixie Mafia Hitman, implicated in the Gypsy Camp Murder, never faces justice for the murder of Gypsy Queen Margie George. Bill Clubb, along with his cohorts, Kirksey Nix, Jr, and three others walk free after the state’s witness is found shot dead beside the road just outside of Shreveport.
William Mansker “Bill” Clubb was a 6’3″ good ‘ol’ boy from Dixieland. He seemed to be a polite, soft-spoken gentleman who loved custom suits and handmade cowboy boots. Those who crossed him knew of his darker side.
Bill Clubb was a highly skilled thief, safecracker, and hired hitman. He was one of five men to be implicated in the Gypsy Camp Murder, but he never faced justice for this crime.
February 18, 1969, five masked men stormed in into a gypsy camp of carnival workers. The band was parked in the Skeebow Trailer Court off of Lake Pontchartrain just outside of New Orleans.
Rumors swirled around the traveling carnival workers. Amid the carnie camp was a safe rumored to hold hundreds of thousands of dollars. This tall tale caught the attention of local Dixie Mafia members, and soon a robbery would be planned.
Mardi Gras was in full swing, and most of the camp’s men were away working, leaving the women and children alone and unprotected. Twenty four people were bound with chains, and their homes ransacked.
The armed gunmen came up with a few thousand dollars worth of cash and jewelry. Some reports claim the gypsies lost close to $40,000, but they claimed the amount was much smaller to avoid problems over unclaimed income.
Whatever the case, the total was much less than the Dixie Mafia crew expected. The Gypsy Queen, Margie George, was taken and beaten in an attempt to find the elusive safe. George refused to talk and became belligerent. Instead of realizing their error and leaving with the money, one robber hit the woman over the head with a hatchet. Another gunman shot her shortly after that to put her out of her misery. The poor woman was only 44.
A local Dixie Mafia thief was arrested almost immediately. Bobbie Gail Gwenn quickly spilled the story and implicated Dixie Mafia Kingpin, Kirksey Nix, Jr, Bill Clubb, and three other men.
Clubb was arrested two days later with $9,000 in cash and a loaded .38 caliber pistol. Police then raided his home and found several guns and an assortment of burglary tools. Some of the weapons were traced back to a home robbery in Ormond Beach, Florida.
Clubb fought extradition to Louisana and succeeded in stalling the process. He was eventually extradited to Louisiana, but it was too late. Just before Clubb was transferred, the stool pigeon was found shot dead beside the road.
One other hitman implicated in the Gypsy Camp Raid, Gary Elbert McDaniel, was found dead in the Sabine River. His death brought on a giant controversy. McDaniel was rumored to be involved in the ambush of Buford Pusser on New Hope Rd. Some wonder if the revenge filled Sheriff could have taken out the killer, or if he was silenced by his own people because he was rumored to be working with authorities.
After the death of Bobby Gwenn, the case against Nix and Clubb fell apart, and Clubb was released. He would continue to have run-ins with law enforcement for the next 13 years.
Clubb was a pilot and used his skills to run drugs throughout the Southern states for the Dixie Mafia. On June 5, 1982, his Piper Cherokee plane crashed just outside of Houston. The soft-spoken killer was dead at 55.
Deep in the heart of Dixie lies a hidden evil. It’s tentacles stretch from state to state, from county to county. The Dixie Mafia has produced infamous outlaws, bank robbers, and murderers. The story contains tidbits from each of their lives and even includes the story of a famous sheriff, but this book is not about them.
Silenced by the Dixie Mafia is about a big sister who has fought for answers for over five decades. It’s about a father who was an ex-alcoholic turned into a gambling addict. A father’s decisions would lead to the death of his disabled son and eventually lead to his own demise. Now left alone to find answers and make sense of the chaos is a brave little southern belle named Phyllis.
Tying back to the ambush of Sheriff Buford Pusser on August 12, 1967, this story will change history as we know it. The world knew nothing about the Dixie Mafia until the murders of Judge Vincent Sherry and his wife Margaret in 1987. This public assassination brought this band of ruthless criminals into view, but the truth was still hidden until the death of the Andersons.
If you enjoy this content don’t forget to sign up for Synova’s Weekly True Crime Newsletter. You will receive exclusive content directly in your inbox. As a gift for joining you will also receive the Grim Justice ebook free.
Every year Synova compiles the most popular blog post from the previous year into a case files book. In 2018, Synova Ink was filled with serial killer cases, cold cases, famous cases, and many obscure unsolved missing persons’ cases. Don’t miss this one.
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“I’d just as soon have Al Capone gunning for me as Louise Hathcock” – Deputy Peatie Plunk
She’s been called the Queen of the State Line Mob. She’s been called ruthless and bloodthirsty, and she definitely wasn’t a “Mob Moll.” Louise Hathcock was the mobster, and the local men were her companions.
Laura Louise Anderson was born on Wednesday, March 19, 1919, to Shelton and Bessie Anderson. After the stock market crash in 1929 and her father leaving in 1935, Louise was moved to McNairy County, Tennessee. By eighteen, Louise decided her life was going to be different. She refused to be dirt poor, and she would do anything to change it. With her mother’s help, Louise landed a job working as a bookkeeper for Nelson Timlake at the State Line Club. Tennessee would never be the same.
The precocious teenager flirted with every man that came near and found she liked the game of “conquering” men, but there was one that seemed oblivious to her advances; Jack Hathcock. Of course, forbidden fruit is always the most enticing, so soon Louise began pursuing Jack relentlessly. He too would fall prey to her feminine wiles, and eventually asked her to marry him. There was one problem with this proposal. She wasn’t sure she wanted Jack now. She had lost interest, but he was on his way to the top, and she wanted to be rich and powerful. Louise finally agreed to become Mrs. Hathcock.
Now we have a name change, but what changed Louise from a money-hungry, promiscuous teenager to the ruthless mobster? That process would take time, bloodshed, and a lot of pain. While Jack promised her a life filled with excitement, money, and good times, Louise Hathcock found bloodshed, brutality, male domination, and fear.
One of many breaking points came in February 1940. Louise had grown tired of Jack’s domestic abuse and his utter domination. Louise had been stepping out on Jack, and this time Nelson Timlake found out about it. Nelson was like a serrogate father to Jack after his own father died, so this infuriated him as if she had been cheating on his own son.
Nelson told Jack what happened and where to find his wife. Jack and a friend tore out of town to chase down the wayward bride. No one was going to make Jack Hathcock look like a punk. After a brutal ordeal, Louise was nearly killed and ended up in the hospital. Of course, the sheriff was paid off, and the beaten woman was “encouraged” to drop all charges.
After this brutal encounter with her husband and his friends, Louise knew she would not let herself get into such a situation again. No man was going to brutalize the 5’2″ Louise again. Fear kept her in line for a little while, but this prison wouldn’t hold the fire growing inside her. The bouncers would make sure Louise didn’t get to close to any of the customers and kept her under a watchful eye.
Instead of turning away from the violence, Louise began to embrace it, and her eager mind began soaking up the knowledge of the state line’s inner workings. It might take awhile, but eventually Louise Hathcock would become the mobster and the men around her would become her “prisoners.”
Fights, murders, and robberies were commonplace at the State Line Club, and Louise began carrying a small ball-pean hammer around in her apron to fix the pictures as they were knocked off the walls. Soon she began using the hammer on the heads of her clients as well. As a teenager, Buford Pusser actually witnessed her beat a client to death with that hammer. When the “paid off” sheriff arrived, he was told the man died of a heart attack.
In January 1949 Jack and Louise Hathcock acquired the State Line Club, the Rainbow Room, and Foam City from Nelson Timlake. She was now one step closer to her dreams of being out from under the thumb of domineering men. Her marriage was a sham and everyone, but Jack knew it, but Louise made sure no one could prove her extramarital affairs.
Louise worked hard to keep her affairs a secret until James Everett “Pee Wee” Walker came into the picture. While “Pee Wee” was married to a beautiful woman, the lure of the powerful Louise Hathcock drew him in. On the other hand, Louise found out what it was like to fall entirely in love with someone. Now she was in Jack’s shoes because although Pee Wee talked of leaving his wife for her, he really had no intention of doing so.
The affair carried on for over a year before Nelson Timlake found out about it. This would be the beginning of the end for Jack and Louise. Nelson called in some “boys” to take care of Pee Wee, and meanwhile, Nelson went had had dinner with Jack. While they were there, Jack happily talked about his plans for building a new club, and more importantly, there were plenty of witnesses to provide an alibi.
On June 13, 1957, Nelson’s thugs found Pee Wee and beat him to a bloody pulp before shooting him execution-style. Now no one in his right mind would ever mess with Louise again. This would be the final straw for Louise. Something inside her died along that dirt path with her lover. She quickly divorced Jack Hathcock and over a short period of time acquired part ownership in the Shamrock Motel.
Louise took charge of the infamous motel and at one particular business meeting told her employees how much she hated the “Yankees.” She said the south may have lost the Civil War, but as far as she was concerned if a Yankee walked into the Shamrock they were fair game and she wanted every cent they carried in with them. If her “girls” couldn’t seduce the men into the trailers out back or talk them into gambling away all their money, they would be beaten and robbed before their stay at the hotel ended.
If anyone complained to the police, their bodies would be found at the bottom of the lake. Louise wanted money, and she would do anything for it. As far as she was concerned “Yankees” were subhuman, and they deserved to lose every dime they had. While Louise’s power grew day by day, her mind and emotions began to deteriorate, and soon hard liquor was her constant companion. It had been her crutch since marrying Jack, but now it was all that seemed to keep her going. That, and her hatred for Jack Hathcock. She continually plotted ways to kill her ex-husband, and on May 22, 1964, Louise hatched her evil plan and nothing was going to stop her, not even a beating.
Louise literally had one of her men beat her up then she had someone call Jack to come over. He walked into an ambush, but the bruises on Louise won her a free pass of self-defense. Now Louise was in charge, and no one could stop her.
Murders, extortion, prostitution was commonplace, and soon the law enforcement was waging war on the state line. When Buford Pusser became sheriff, the war escalated drastically. Although he’s credited with cleaning up the state line, there were a lot of law enforcement departments trying to clean up the corruption, but B.P. would be the one to take out the ruthless Louise Hathcock in a blaze of gunfire.
Her life spiraled out of control in the years after Jack’s murder, and she was facing some serious jail time. There weren’t enough of “her people” in law enforcement anymore to buy her way out of it this time. By now her looks had faded, she was broken, and she probably figured it was about over. Maybe that’s why she pulled a gun on a sheriff. Perhaps it was one last act of defiance, or maybe it was suicide by cop. We will never know.
It was a stormy night when a couple of Yankees turned in to the Shamrock Hotel looking for a place to ride out the storm. They were welcomed in warmly, and something slipped into their drinks. Soon they were unconscious in their room when a dark figure moved inside. When they awoke in the morning, all of their money and her purse was missing. The couple hurried to the counter in a panic, hoping to find sympathy and support. Instead, they found a very drunk Louise Hathcock spewing out venom and curses. The terrified couple flew out the door when Hathcock reached into her apron. The police were called from a payphone.
February 1, 1966, Sheriff Buford Pusser, Deputy Pettie Plunk, and Deputy Jim Moffett arrived with warrants in hand to search the Shamrock. This wasn’t the first time they had complaints of robberies there. This would be the last time, though.
When the lawmen walked in, they were greeted with a barrage of cursing that would make a sailor blush. Intoxicated wasn’t a strong enough word for the firestorm that stood behind the counter. They tried to explain they were looking for a missing purse, but Louise started ranting about a car. She wasn’t making any sense. After a few moments, she asks Buford Pusser to have a private chat. He took the search warrants and followed her to apartment one. That’s where she lived. He had no idea what was running through her head as she fingered the cold metal object in the pocket of her sweater.
After isolating the big man, she turned on him with her snub-nosed .38 caliber and fired a shot at the sheriff. He seeing the glint of gunmetal dropped down onto the bed. In her drunken state, she missed his head, and the bullet ended up firing through the window and wedging itself into a post outside. She leveled her gun between the lawman’s eyes and fired again, but it misfired giving Buford time to draw is 41 Magnum and fire back. He didn’t miss, but she kept pulling the gun back up until she took three bullets and landed on the floor. There in the very spot where she plotted the bloodshed of her ex-husband, Louise Hathcock faded into history.
Some conspiracy theorists like to try and say Buford Pusser shot her of his own accord, but I tend to believe she was finished and she knew it. Louise loved being the big boss. She loved the finer things in life. She wouldn’t survive a lengthy prison sentence. To me, a non-local observer, it seems she committed suicide by cop.
A grand jury cleared the sheriff of any wrong-doing, and in a later interview, Pettie Plunk was quoted saying “I’d compare her with Al Capone. I’d just as soon have Al Capone gunning for me as Louise Hathcock.” Maybe that’s the type of legacy she wanted to leave behind. Who knows? What changed this poor girl desperate for money into a ruthless killer? We may never know, and I don’t claim to have the education in psychology to explain it. Whatever the case, Louise Hathcock’s name will be remembered.
THIS OF LINKS IS NOT AN ALL-ENCOMPASSING SOURCE CITING. ALL OF THE INFORMATION USED IN THIS ARTICLE CAN BE EASILY FOUND ONLINE. LINKS BELOW WERE USED AS SOURCES AND ARE RECOMMENDED READING FOR SYNOVA’S READERS. SYNOVA STRIVES TO CITE ALL THE SOURCES USED DURING HER CASE STUDY, BUT OCCASIONALLY A SOURCE MAY BE MISSED BY MISTAKE. IT IS NOT INTENTIONAL, AND NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED.
For those of you who don’t believe in the existence of the Dixie Mafia consider this. Three full years before the R.I.C.O. act was used in New York to take down the Italian Mafia, it was used in Georgia to take down Dixie Mafia Kingpin John “J.C.” Hawkins.
Everyone has heard how the U.S. Attorney’s office used the R.I.C.O. act to attack the Italian Mafia and ultimately take it down. Although it still exists to this day, the Mafia isn’t nearly as powerful as it was back in the early 1970s. Even Wikipedia claims the R.I.C.O. act was first used in 1979 to take down the Italians.
While diving deeper into my research of the Dixie Mafia, I found a startling truth. The R.I.C.O. Act wasn’t used first on the Italians. It was used against a Dixie Mafia Kingpin named J.C. Hawkins out of Georgia three full years before the highly-publicized case in New York. Although the Dixie Mafia doesn’t have the structure and organization of the famous Italian crew, this grassroots criminal enterprise spans the southern states like weeds in a garden.
The term “Dixie Mafia” was coined in the 1960s by Mississippi State Police investigator, Rex Armistead. He hoped it would draw the attention of police and the media to the connections between the criminal factions. For decades everyone argued over the existence of the Italian mafia before it became indisputable. Now the same pattern is happening about the Dixie Mafia. While they have been called everything from the Cornbread La Cosa Nostra to the Hillbilly Mob, the fact that there is a criminal organization in the south should be indisputable. Why are people still arguing over this point? I contend Hollywood glamorized the Italian organization and they haven’t touched the southern counterpart.
More about the first RICO indictment:
The R.I.C.O. indictment case out of Macon, GA started with a rock group called the Allman Brothers band.
They were called the “Godfathers of Southern Rock,” but now drug dealers with ties to the Georgia faction of the Dixie Mafia will destroy what’s left of the band.
The Allman Brothers Band had reached the lofty heights of stardom by 1976, but those heights were hard to maintain with ties to Georgia’s faction of the Dixie Mafia. Drugs, band member disputes, lavish living, and one giant push by law enforcement spelled the end of the famous rock group. The band that would be later known for hits like Ramblin Man and Midnight Riderwas formed by two brothers Gregg and Duane in 1969. The next seven years would be plagued with trouble, but they would finally scratch their way to the top. Things started falling apart, however, when the eldest brother Duane was killed in a motorcycle accident on October 29, 1971. The band somehow kept it together and seemed stronger than ever, but it wouldn’t last long. Gregg Allman’s former bodyguard and now road manager, John “Scooter” Herring was allegedly supplying the band and others with narcotics. His activities and his ties to Dixie Mafia Kingpin J. C. Hawkins had come under scrutiny by law enforcement. Scooter’s supplier was a pharmacist Joey Fuchs. At one point Fuchs found his pharmacy stock so obviously low, that he staged a robbery to cover the drugs he had stolen and sold to Herring. Scooter Herring and Joey Fuchs were arrested and indicted on May 30, 1976. Witnesses were called in from around the music industry including Gregg Allman. Everyone in the band refused to “rat out” their friend, but Allman facing charges of his own agreed to testify against his former manager. This action was the final straw that broke up the group. The feds were happy to take down Fuchs and Herring, but their main target was the big boss J.C. Hawkins. They would get their chance in a much-publicized RICO trial in July 1976. Hawkins and the crew were convicted of several racketeering charges, drug charges and much more. During the trial, the rockstar Gregg Allman had to be under heavy guard. Hawkins, who had a history of taking out witnesses, had put a price on Allman’s head. $100,000 was a lot of money back in 1976, and that’s what the kingpin was willing to pay if someone took out Allman. Scooter Herring was convicted of five drug charges and sentenced to 75 years in prison. Herring who had also been a former bodyguard for J.C. Hawkins was now behind bars. He refused to snitch on anyone, but Fuchs and Allman didn’t share his sentiment. Viewing Allman’s testimony as an act of betrayal, the band officially broke up. They would reunite on a few occasions over the next few decades, but they would never achieve the same level of success as their first run in the early 1970s. An appeals court later overturned Herring’s conviction. He would face another trial in 1979 where he would plead guilty to lesser charges and receive five years. Eventually, Scooter received a presidential pardon from Jimmy Carter, and he ended up serving only three years. Many believed he took the rap for Allman, but there wasn’t any proof. Several southern rock groups performed charity concerts and raised the money to foot Scooter’s legal bill. Scooter went on working in the music industry and was beloved by all who knew him. No one will ever know if the allegations were true or false, but Herring spent the rest of his life on the fringes of Rock and Roll as a manager for different bands. Gregg Allman wrote a book titled My Cross to Bear in later in life. He says he was told by Scooter to pin everything on the big guy. Of course, there is no way to verify this claim. Was the ex-bodyguard still trying to protect the drug-addled celebrity, or was he actually guilty? Who knows? Whatever the case may be, the feds ended up taking down their man Hawkins with the first RICO trial.
THIS OF LINKS IS NOT AN ALL-ENCOMPASSING SOURCE CITING. ALL OF THE INFORMATION USED IN THIS ARTICLE CAN BE EASILY FOUND ONLINE. LINKS BELOW WERE USED AS SOURCES AND ARE RECOMMENDED READING FOR SYNOVA’S READERS. SYNOVA STRIVES TO CITE ALL THE SOURCES USED DURING HER CASE STUDY, BUT OCCASIONALLY A SOURCE MAY BE MISSED BY MISTAKE. IT IS NOT INTENTIONAL, AND NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED.
EACH WEEK SYNOVA HIGHLIGHTS OBSCURE COLD CASES ON HER BLOG AS A VICTIMS’ ADVOCATE WITH MISSOURI MISSING ORGANIZATION. SHE NEVER CHARGES FOR HER SERVICES. IF YOU’D LIKE TO SUPPORT HER IN THIS WORTHY CAUSE, PLEASE CHECK OUT THE AFFILIATE LINKS ON THIS PAGE. BY PURCHASING ONE OF HER BOOKS, OR USING THESE LINKS YOU WILL BE SUPPORTING SYNOVA’S WORK ON COLD CASES AND WILL ENSURE HER ABILITY TO CONTINUE TO GIVE A VOICE TO THE VICTIM’S FAMILY.
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Follow the heart-rending cases Synova first wrote about on her blog in 2018. Filled with missing persons’ cases, unsolved homicides, and even serial killer cases, this book will give you a greater insight into the shattered lives behind every story. Cases Included in this book:Jayme Closs, Haley Owens, Josh Robinson, Timothy Cunningham, Carol Blades,Pam Hupp, Arthur Ream, Angela Hammond,The Springfield Three,Jennifer Harris, Danny King,Angie Yarnell, Jack Robinson, Madelin Edman, Alexis Patterson, Amber Wilde, Sandra Bertolas, Jennifer Casper-Ross, Crystal Soulier, Jody Ricard, Carmen Owens, Brandon Tyree McCullough &The I-70 Serial Killer.
A portion of the profits of this book will go to support the Missouri Missing Organization.
A seventeen-year-old boy spends his days exploring his family’s 122-acre property. Even at a tender age, Norman Ladner was an experienced outdoorsman. He loved hunting, fishing, and exploring the nature around him. Why then was he shot in the head and left in the woods to die? Did he witness one of the Dixie Mafia’s narcotics planes? Was the radio device found hanging in a nearby tree used to signal a drop? Thirty years later, these questions are still unanswered.
On August 21, 1989, Norman Ladner spent the day exploring his family land like he had done almost every day. Ladner was the oldest child and was very responsible. Everyone that remembers him tells of his dependability and his kindness. The Ladner family also owned the local country store. When Norman finished his day of exploring the outdoors, he would usually show up at the store to help his parents close up shop and prepare for the next day. You could set your watch by him. Norman always strolled in around 7 pm. On occasion, he would be closer to 7:30, but never later. On this night, his father began to worry when his son never showed up at the store. Norman Ladner Sr. hurried home to see if his son was in his woodworking shop in the barn. The teenager was nowhere to be found. Worried, but not frightened, the father gathered a few friends and together they formed a search party. Everyone thought the boy had gotten lost, or maybe injured. No one expected what they would find in those woods on that fateful night. Sr. stumbled upon his son laying beneath a tree. When he reached down and touched his boy, the chill of death shot through him. The distraught father sat with his son in the dark woods until his search party to could return to the house to call the police. Pearl County Sheriff Lorance Lumpkin arrived on the scene around 10 pm. There he found Norman laying on his back with his legs curled up underneath him. He was rolled partially to the side a gunshot wound in his temple. From the outset, the authorities began speculating the death was a horrible accident. Perhaps the teenager had jumped down from the tree and fell. Maybe the impact caused his rifle to go off. A few days later, the coroner came into the family store with two deputies to speak to the family about his results. He told the family that he was 90% sure it was a terrible accident. Strangely, when the official ruling came out a few days later, it was classed as suicide. The family was shocked. They couldn’t believe it. Nothing about it made sense. Norman was a happy child. If it were suicide, why did he have a large gash on the top of his head? The family went to the sheriff and tried to speak about the case, but the sheriff flat out said they were wrong. It was a suicide, and they were just grieving parents who refused to see the truth. Evidence Against The Suicide Theory:
Why did the boy have a gash on TOP of his head, and how does that relate to suicide? I wasn’t doing a handstand while trying to hold a rifle and shoot himself in the temple.
I was unable to verify this, but it was once reported that the head wound had live maggots while the temple wound held larva. This would lead one to believe that the head wound came first, and the temple wound was secondary.
The police never processed the scene as a crime scene. They didn’t find a bullet. The father would find one on his own later.
Norman’s gun was never tested or fingerprinted.
No one determined what type of weapon that killed him. They never checked because they believed it was his own gun from the beginning.
Norman’s wallet with $140 was missing. I’m sure he just stole his own money, threw away his wallet, and marched into the woods to shoot himself, right? I don’t think so!
The family repeatedly tried to get the sheriff to reopen the case, but he flat out refused. The father, desperate for answers went out into the woods to begin his own investigation. There in the dirt under where his son’s head would have been, they found a bullet with human blood and hair. It seemed to the father that his son was slumped on the ground rolled to the side and someone standing above him shot the boy through the temple. The bullet then traveled through the hair and skull and buried into the dirt. It makes sense. If the boy had somehow pulled the trigger on his own rifle, then the gun would have flown through the air and landed at another location. I should also mention that in some reports the boy was carrying a shotgun and other stories call it a rifle, so I cannot say what type of gun the boy had. I can tell you that it was most likely a shotgun. Either way, it isn’t easy to shoot oneself in the temple with a shotgun or a rifle. Still desperate for answers, the poor father took the bullet to the sheriff and was immediately dismissed. The police claimed that since they didn’t find the bullet, then they couldn’t prove it was the one who killed Norman. The father argued that they didn’t look for a bullet, but it was no use. Since he was getting nowhere with the local sheriff, Norman Sr. took the bullet to the state ballistics lab. He explained how the bullet was too long to fit in his son’s gun and asked the examiner to look over the bullet. The results came back inconclusive siting the same lines as the sheriff almost verbatim. To make matters worse, when the bullet was returned to the family, it was a different one than the bullet they had sent in. During their frequent trips to the coroner’s office, Norman’s mother was approached by a stranger. He asked if he could discuss her son’s case with her, so of course, the mother agreed to step away and speak with him. When the pair were out of earshot of her husband, the stranger turned and uttered a chilling threat to the poor mother. He told her that she had other children and she should just drop this investigation and raise them because they’d never find Norman’s killer. Frightened, she hurried back to Norman Sr. and told him about the threat. The man was gone before anyone could find him. Determined to find the truth, the now somewhat paranoid father makes another trip into the woods to find clues. Three hundred yards from his son’s position, he saw a strange object hanging in a tree. It was a homemade radio device of sorts covered in tape and wires with a small antenna protruding from the top. Of course, the father took it to the sheriff and was dismissed. Norman then turned to a neighbor and told him about the device. The neighbor put him in contact with a retired DEA agent who lived in the area. The DEA agent knew what the strange object was immediately and explained these devices transmit signals. The narcotics plans would fly over an area, and when the signal was picked up on their devices, then they would drop their load of drugs. Was this the answer the family had been looking for? Did their poor boy run up on a drug trafficker and a narcotics drop? To make matters worse, the sheriff would later be charged with dogfighting and other illegal activities. Although some believe he had ties to the local group of Dixie Mafia drug cartel, nothing has been proven. Norman Ladner, Sr. died in 2003, and the sheriff died in 2007. Thirty years have passed, and most of the witnesses are long gone. What evidence the family found is no longer available. Still, questions remain. What happened to Norman Ladner? Was it suicide or murder?
THIS LIST OF LINKS IS NOT AN ALL-ENCOMPASSING SOURCE CITING. ALL OF THE INFORMATION USED IN THIS ARTICLE CAN BE EASILY FOUND ONLINE. LINKS BELOW WERE USED AS SOURCES AND ARE RECOMMENDED READING FOR SYNOVA’S READERS. SYNOVA STRIVES TO CITE ALL THE SOURCES USED DURING HER CASE STUDY, BUT OCCASIONALLY A SOURCE MAY BE MISSED BY MISTAKE. IT IS NOT INTENTIONAL, AND NO COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT IS INTENDED.
If you enjoy this content don’t forget to sign up for Synova’s Weekly True Crime Newsletter. You will receive exclusive content directly in your inbox. As a gift for joining you will also receive the Grim Justice ebook free.
A very tidy 80-yr-old trudges out through his grassy lawn in his sock feet with his pants undone, shoots himself in the head, falls backward leaving an abrasion on the back of his head, and then flops over cutting his shin and bruising the top of his toes. If that wasn’t enough to question the suicide ruling then hold on, there’s more. Why did he have gun powder residue on BOTH hands when the hairpin trigger on his service revolver was easily manageable? Why did the blood splatter on his pants look as if he were kneeling? Why were the bullet casings destroyed a few days later WITHOUT the consent of family? Why was the daughter’s name forged on the consent form?
April 18, 2003: Around 4:30 pm, Lt. Dan Anderson supposedly walked out to his driveway and shot himself in the head with his service revolver. Anderson lived on a busy street, yet there weren’t any witnesses during rush hour traffic. Years later the police somehow drag up two people who say they heard a gunshot sometime in the afternoon, but no one can find these witnesses to re-question them. It seemed they appeared just in time for the FOIA request but disappeared again afterward. Who knows? All of that is merely speculation. I will let you speculate on your own time. Here are the facts of this case as I can prove from interviewing the victim’s family and working through the official autopsy. Ms. Learn told the police that Dan had sent her to the store to buy cigarettes, and when she returned, she found him in the driveway. The FOIA documents clearly state what she told the police. Learn told the investigator that she parked right behind Dan Anderson’s Cadillac and she confirmed that this car was still there when she moved out of the house later that day after the death of Anderson. I will tell you why that is significant later. Around midnight Phyllis received a phone call from her father’s attorney stating that Dan Anderson had committed suicide. She fell to the floor, devastated and screamed, “not again.” She packed up and went to Gulfport. When she got there the coroner, Gary Hargrove wouldn’t allow her to see her father’s body. Instead of showing some compassion for the grieving family, he chose to be rude and arrogant. Since she wasn’t getting anywhere with the coroner, Phyllis drove over to her father’s house. She expected to see some evidence of a crime. Instead, the house looked like nothing had happened. There wasn’t any crime scene tape, the driveway was clean, and there weren’t any bloodstains. She walked into the house looking for evidence of violence but found none. It was as if time had stopped, and this was a bad dream. Dan liked to keep everything neat and tidy, but the house looked as if it had been detailed. There wasn’t a speck of dust in the place. To make matters worse, Learn had lived there for a month, and there wasn’t any evidence of her left. Phyllis said she couldn’t even find a bobby pin. In the FOIA papers MS. Learn said she only lived there four days, but Phyllis had received a phone call about her two weeks before her father’s death, so we know that’s a lie. As Phyllis slowly took in her surroundings, she noticed something odd. On the nightstand by her father’s bed was a carton of cigarettes with four packs in it. She walked into the den where her father spent a lot of time, and there were two more packs on the end table. One pack was full, and the other was only missing four cigarettes. Why had Learn gone out for cigarettes when there were so many packs laying around the house? She also noticed that her father’s valuables had been taken. He was a 33rd degree Mason and had beautiful rings, but they were nowhere to be found. All the china and crystal in the house had been thinned out and the remaining pieces spaced out on the shelves so their removal wouldn’t be apparent. The more she looked, the more she noticed things missing. Also, the Cadillac wasn’t in the driveway anymore. Police would later claim that it had been sold months before her father’s death but remember the FOIA papers said that it was IN THE DRIVEWAY on the day of Anderson’s death. Now let’s move on to the autopsy report. If you aren’t already questioning this case and its suicide ruling the first few lines of the autopsy report will force you to question it. The autopsy diagnoses dated 4-19-2003 states the following:
One recent gunshot wound of the head entering the right temple, contact, exiting the left temple through the brain (no bullet in the wound)
blood spatter and powder particles on BOTH HANDS
Ok. It also states that his pants were unbuttoned and the zipper down. His socks were covered in dry plant material. It also indicates that his fingernails and toenails were neatly clipped and clean. Ok. Here goes the rant… Dan Anderson was a tidy person, and I’ve been told that wouldn’t go outside in his sock feet. If he wanted to, there was a driveway and a sidewalk to walk on. He was particular enough to have nice nails, but he ran outside with his pants undone? The documents say one hammerless Smith & Wesson 38 service revolver, four bullets, one shell casing, and one leather holster was recovered from the scene. No one recovered the spent bullet. The autopsy said it was a through and through wound, so why wasn’t it recovered in the grass? No ballistics testing was done to prove that this gun was the weapon used to kill Anderson. To make it even worse, the FOIA request shows the police department destroyed the bullets and shell casing four days after Anderson’s death. They sent Phyllis a copy of this release that she supposedly had signed. Phyllis swears she has never seen the paper before and the signature on the bottom of it was not hers. Who signed Phyllis’ name? Dan Anderson was 80, but he was a strong man and didn’t suffer from Parkinson’s disease. Why then would he have to use both hands to fire his service revolver? Remember the autopsy said there was gunshot residue and blood spatter on BOTH hands. Anderson showed no signs of suicidal tendencies. Now here comes the outline of the wounds found on Dan Anderson’s body, excluding the gunshot wound. To reconstruct these wounds, I got help from my son. I drew all the markings on his hands and legs with a washable marker and photographed them. This is what I found. Left index fingertip anteriorly (meaning the palm side) there was a fresh wound. The left middle finger dorsally (meaning the backside of the hand) over the proximal Phalanx was another wound. Proximal Phalanx means the backside of the hand down between the base of the finger and the first knuckle. The autopsy also states he had a large wound on the FRONT of his RIGHT shin and on the top of the right big toe. Lastly, it says he had an abrasion on the back of the left-hand side of his head just above the hairline. Dan Anderson had male pattern baldness. If Lt. Anderson somehow shot himself with both hands and fell BACKWARD, that would account for the wound on the back of his head. If this is the case, then why the scrape down his right shin and his right toe? If he fell FORWARD, he might receive a small abrasion on his knee, but not a large scrape, and he wouldn’t have a wound on the back of his head. My armchair conclusion is Lt. Anderson’s death should not be ruled suicide. It is highly unlikely that this man would suddenly decide to send off his housekeeper, undo his pants, walk out in his front yard and shoot himself using both hands on his snub-nosed revolver. He wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t suicidal, and he cared about neatness enough to keep both his fingernails and toenails groomed. The officials would like to make you believe this is what happened, and to add to the fairytale, he must have shot, then fell forward, dragged himself around the yard scrapping his leg up, then dropped down upon his back hitting the back of his head. If all of that makes sense to you, then I must add all the details of the missing items and the missing Cadillac. If you believe all of that, then I have some oceanfront property in Kansas that I would like to sell to you. After writing about this case a year ago, Phyllis has been blessed to find a forensic investigator willing to take on her case. This investigator has found many new details about this case, and witnesses have come forward to clear up some missing links. Now, there is some indication that the original autopsy might have been manipulated to bolster the suicide claims. Unfortunately, those details must be held close until after the trial, but you can bet your bottom dollar I will be writing more about it when I get the green light.
THIS LIST OF LINKS IS NOT AN ALL-ENCOMPASSING SOURCE CITING. ALL OF THE INFORMATION USED IN THIS ARTICLE CAN BE EASILY FOUND ONLINE. LINKS BELOW WERE USED AS SOURCES AND ARE RECOMMENDED READING FOR SYNOVA’S READERS. Synova strives to cite all the sources used during her case study, but occasionally a source may be missed by mistake. It is not intentional, and no copyright infringement is intended.
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A gambling addiction got him mixed up in something too big to handle, but impossible to escape. He held his tongue after the ambush of Buford Pusser although his car may have been used without his knowledge. He kept their secrets despite them killing his crippled son, and he fought valiantly to keep his daughter safe. Now, it was time to pay the piper and Lt. Dan Anderson knew it.
If you have been following my Mobster Monday posts, then you have heard the name Lt. Dan Anderson before. His story is interwoven throughout the entire series on the Dixie Mafia going all the way back to Buford Pusser up at the state line. By this point, it has been established that Anderson’s Cadillac was most likely the one used in the ambush of Buford Pusser and his wife on New Hope Rd. on August 12, 1967. Strangely, this car disappeared right after the death of Ronnie Anderson, Dan’s son.
For years, Phyllis, Dan’s daughter called the Gulfport police department begging them to look into her brother’s mysterious suicide case. They always refused to re-open the case and within minutes of her call to the police, Dan would call her and tell her to back off. This was the game for over thirty years until the fragile house of cards began to crumble one day in the fall of 2002. The sweet and sassy southern bell always visited her father over the holidays to celebrate his birthday. It was a tradition to go to the local waffle house and this year was no different. A chance encounter during this trip would bring down the house and culminate in the death of Dan Anderson.
During the meal, Phyllis noticed her father’s demeanor change drastically as he looked past her into the booth behind them.
“That Son of a $&%$%” he mumbled.
Startled, Phyllis started to turn and look but received a quiet rebuke from her father. A few minutes later the man strolled past the table glaring at Dan Anderson and his daughter. Dan waited a short while before speaking and then asked his daughter if she knew who the man was that just left the building? Of course, she had no idea.
“That’s the ol’ boy who killed Ronnie.”
Shocked, Phyllis sat watching her father as he visibly withdrew into a shell of a man. After 36 years her father had finally admitted what Phyllis had believed all along. She was shocked to find out that the killer was the roommate her brother had trusted and shared a house with. Dan Anderson had been constantly intimidated by the man for over three decades.What changed? Why would Dan finally drop such a bombshell? Was his son’s killer threatening to kill Phyllis too? We may never know.
After the holidays things began to escalate quickly. Late February or early March Dan’s attorney found a housekeeper to help around the house. He was always a tidy person who hated to have a cluttered space. A woman came to help out, but strangely never really cleaned anything. Aggravated by her, Dan called Phyllis and asked if she would come to throw out the housekeeper. Phyllis happened to have her leg in a cast all the way up to her hip but promised to come as soon as she could get it off. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be soon enough.
A few days later, Phyllis speaks with the housekeeper and tells her to ship out because she would be coming to Mississippi soon. Within days she would travel back to Gulfport, but not to throw out a housekeeper. She would be attending to her father’s final affairs.
April 18, 2003, around midnight Phyllis would receive the call that would tear her heart out. Dan Anderson was dead from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound.
“Not again!” was all Phyllis could think.
The official story:
Dan Anderson, 80 had sent the housekeeper out to buy cigarettes because they were out. She found him when she returned dead at the end of the driveway. His pants were undone and he was in his sock feet. The subsequent autopsy was full of strange details and discrepancies and recently more information has come out leading us to wonder if the entire report was fabricated. We will wait until next week to dive into the conspiracy surrounding the death of Dan Anderson and why Phyllis believes her father was a victim of a gangland-style slaying. Stay tuned folks. This ride’s not over yet.
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THIS LIST OF LINKS IS NOT AN ALL-ENCOMPASSING SOURCE CITING. ALL OF THE INFORMATION USED IN THIS ARTICLE CAN BE EASILY FOUND ONLINE. THE SOURCE LINKS ARE PLACED WITHIN THE BODY OF THE TEXT.
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