On June 22, 2013, Brooke went to a bonfire party with her sister and some friends. It was the end of the school year bash that promised a fun-filled summer. Unfortunately, Brooke would never make it home. We know where she was last seen and who she was with but somehow after all of these years, we still do not know what happened to Brooke Farthing.
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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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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.
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.
After shooting down a prominent businessman, the killer looked up and gazed at the people in the factory windows. Why would a hitman do this? Was he confident, arrogant, or was he backed by the Mafia and knew he was untouchable? Whatever the case, Wolf Rimann lay dying in his car, and the killer got away. Seventy years later we have a full description of the killer, but no arrests.
Wolf Rimann, 43 was a marked man. He had been warned. Perhaps he thought he was too powerful in Kansas City to be taken out so easily. Rimann was a Deputy Sherriff in Jackson County. He was neck deep in corruption and thrived. Rimann was a golf professional and the manager of the Hillcrest Country Club. He also owned the Western Speciality Company which supplied jukeboxes and pinball machines to area businesses. Rimann was known to slip a few strategically placed slot machines in as well. It was a well-known fact that Rimann would use his badge to force tavern owners to install his slot machines. If the bar owner refused, Rimann would decide to enforce the county’s “dry” laws and shut the bar down. At one point there were four other officers on Rimann’s payroll for this sole purpose.
The local Mafia kingpin, John Blando had exclusive rights to the Schenley Liquor products and was making a boat-load of money on the deal. Rimann decided he wanted a piece of the action and bypassed Blando. He went directly to New York and was given permission to sell Schenley liquor. This obviously upset Blando, so he sent word for Rimann to back off, but Rimann refused and continued to stock a warehouse full of the product.
On March 24, 1949, Wolf Rimann was walking towards his car on the corner of 14th & Chestnut when a black Ford peeled around the corner. One man stepped out and stood as a century. Another man stepped out firing a pistol. Rimann was riddled with bullets as he opened the car door. He slumped across the front seat of his car as the shooter approached. The hitman’s final bullet met its mark in Rimann’s skull. Then the killer did something very odd. He turned and looked at the factory windows full of witnesses exposing his face to the crowd. If this were a Hollywood film, he probably would have tipped his hat. After the strange moment passed, the two men jumped back into the Ford and raced away.
The sketch above says the Ford was parked, but early reporting of this case say the Ford never stopped and the two men who exited the car had to jog to catch back up to it. The getaway car was found ten blocks north of the crime scene. The vehicle was traced back to a St. Louis car dealership. It was recently purchased by an Italian man claiming to be from Denver. He paid with cash and asked to borrow a couple of license plates. He never picked up the car title. He apparently had other plans for the car. The mysterious Italian was never found.
After his death, Rimann’s illegal business dealings came to light and exposed how deep the corruption had become in Kansas City. Although the case was never solved, the Kansas City Crime Commission was formed because of the murder of Wolf Rimann. Everyone knows the mob killed Rimann, but the triggerman was never found, and the crime boss of K.C. was never convicted of hiring the hit.
All photos used in this article are from the Kansas City archives. I do not own the copyright on any of these and no infringement is intended. This article is for informational purposes only,All photos used in this article are from the Kansas City archives. I do not own the copyright on any of these and no infringement is intended. This article is for informational purposes only,
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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“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.
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 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.
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.
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.
The battle raged for ten long years, but two warriors refused to abandon the case. Lynn Sherry Sposito and FBI agent Keith Bell kept fighting until justice was served for the murders of Judge Vincent Sherry and his wife Margaret.
How did this criminal enterprise finally crumble? Although it would take a decade to find justice for the Sherry murders, the foundations began to erode when investigators learned of the Dixie Mafia’s involvement. The first clue came in rather quickly after a neighbor spoke to Lynn Sposito about a strange car in the area on the night of her parent’s murder.
The Greenwood Commonwealth reported on the abandoned car believed to be the getaway car. It was found on September 22, 1987, within a couple of miles from the Sherry house. This 1981 Ford Fairmont would lead straight back to the Dixie Mafia and would get the case rolling.
Not only was this vehicle found close to the murder scene, but it also matched the description given by the neighbor. Strangely, the dome light had been purposely dismantled and the bulb removed. Whoever was driving this car did not want to be seen when he opened the car door.
The car had been stolen off a lot shortly before the murder. Some reports say it was stolen the day before, but in the book Mississippi Mud, it says the car was stolen on the same day. This is not the only discrepancy reported in the book and newspapers. You must remember that both the newspapers and the book were written as the story broke, so they could only write what was known at the time. It is easier to write a story decades afterward in my opinion.
The license plates on this stolen car were registered to another abandoned vehicle from three years earlier. This stolen Firebird had been abandoned in front of an apartment complex. A known Dixie Mafia member named Lenny Sweatman had stripped the car for parts before it was towed away. That tangled web is what led the investigators to the doorstep of the Dixie Mafia. Sweatman would lead to the club owner, Mike Gillich. Gillich would lead back to Kirksey Nix and his Lonely Hearts scam.
The scam was on the police radar for a while and investigators wondered if the murder was connected, but they had no proof. It would take a couple of snitches, a little legal wrangling, and a lot of patience to bring down the killers.
Bobby Joe Fabian was serving a life sentence in Angola prison when he decided to work with investigators in hopes of shortening his sentence. Fabian was the informant who would officially link the scam to the murders. He told of Kirksey Nix’s involvement and implicated Pete Halat. He also told authorities that known hitman, John Ransom was the triggerman. This would later be proved false, but it was enough to get the ball rolling.
Bill Rhodes, an associate of Ransom turned states evidence and claimed he had been hired to drive the getaway car. He claims to have met with Mike Gillich and Pete Halat several months before the murder. Rhodes was to drive and Ransom was to kill the Sherry’s, but this plan fell through when John Ransom was arrested five months before the death of the Sherrys.
As it turns out, Ransom provided the weapon used to kill the judge and his wife, but was not the triggerman as first alleged. Eventually, investigators persuaded Mike Gillich to turn informant. When he finally told his side of the story he spoke in great detail even telling how the hitman put superglue on his fingers so he wouldn’t leave prints behind in the house. He also gives the name of the actual triggerman. Thomas Leslie Holcomb was offered $20,000 to kill the Sherrys.
Nix and the crew were indicted in May 1991, but Pete Halat somehow escaped the noose. It was difficult for investigators seeing the Mayor’s smiling face on the news knowing he was involved in murder, but knowing they didn’t have enough evidence to charge him. Finally, their day came when Gillich spilled the beans and Pete Halat was convicted in 1997.
Halat was working with Nix’s former girlfriend Sheri La Sharpe. Together they would stash the money in a safety deposit box, but Halat got greedy and moved the money to a different safety deposit box that only he had access to. Conveniently there was one other name on the box. Judge Vincent Sherry. Sherry had been Halat’s law partner before he left to become a judge. This would give Halat an “out” when Nix eventually noticed the money was missing. Now Halat could blame the innocent judge for the theft and Halat could get off scot-free.
Although the Sherrys got justice, this story will continue next week with the only man to have inside information on this case. His knowledge would eventually lead to his death and his murder would be labeled suicide. Find out more about Lt. Dan Anderson’s connection to this case and his murder next week.
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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. LINKS BELOW WERE USED AS SOURCES AND ARE RECOMMENDED READING FOR SYNOVA’S READERS.
Do legends die, or do they get distorted over time until no truth remains? The legendary lawmen Buford Pusser was killed in a fiery crash on August 21st, 1974. Although everyone in town knew he had a price on his head, the case was closed quickly and the records were sealed by court order. Why?
In Buford Pusser case, the controversy surrounding his life was insane enough, but now his detractors are pouring manufactured facts, rumor mill stories, and manipulated truths into the story trying to defame a rough-and-tumble lawman.
On August 20th, 1974, Buford Pusser and his daughter Dwana went to the McNairy County Fair. Earlier that day, Pusser had announced he had just signed a contract with Bing Crosby Productions to portray himself in the next Walking Tall movie.
Many locals saw him at the fair. He played basketball with some of them and seemed fine around 7 p.m. However, by 10 o’clock that night, some people noticed he began to slur his words a little bit and wondered if he had been drinking. The people at the food stand remember him ordering two BBQ sandwiches and a fish sandwich along with two glasses of water. He was seen carrying around this disposable cup most of the evening, but the only thing he was known to order was water.
Another witness claimed he saw Buford Pusser leave that evening and he tore out of the parking lot like some rowdy teenager. Although Buford Pusser drove his souped-up Corvette at high rates of speed, he was never that reckless. Others notice at the fair that Buford seemed a little off the longer the evening wore on. These witness statements and others lead people to believe that perhaps Buford Pusser had been poisoned.
One investigator who later would be completely discredited claimed to have proof he had been poisoned with a rare South American Indian poison called Cuare. Like with everyone else who went up against the Dixie Mafia, this investigator was publicly discredited and humiliated. Strangely, this investigator would wind up being shot execution-style a short time later. Everyone was quick to point out that it had nothing to do with the Pusser investigation. I think otherwise.
Just after midnight, Dwana and Buford decide to leave the fair. Dwana gets a ride with a friend and leaves shortly before her father. A few miles down the road Buford Pusser caught up with them and passed them at a high rate of speed. It took a few miles to catch up to the Corvette, but by then it was too late.
Some reports say the car was already on fire, but others say it started a few minutes later underneath the hood. The legendary lawmen lay on the ground near his beloved Corvette with a broken neck. Could he really be gone? It didn’t seem possible.
Rumors began immediately after his death. The tie rods had been sawed in two. The brake lines had been cut. He was poisoned. Investigators say Buford Pusser was drunk and driving to fast he wasn’t wearing a seat belt and he was ejected from the car no foul play, but no one in the town believed it several stateliners had contracts out on Buford Pusser and this was a well-known fact.
Some estimated car was traveling close to 100 mph others say it was a 120 mph. Whatever the case, why would he fly past the car he knew his daughter was in like a maniac? Wouldn’t that put his child in danger? It didn’t seem like Buford Pusser was really in his right mind that night.
This was the argument many people claimed proved poison theory. At the time of his death, Buford Pusser’s blood-alcohol level was 1.8. For a giant of a man 6 ft 6 in tall 250 lb that would not have affected him very much.
Rumor had it the brake lines had been cut on his car but if this was the case why were there 545 feet of skid marks left down the highway?
The manufacturing company investigated the wreckage and said there was no manufacturing default, and it didn’t look like it had been tampered with. Of course, if there had been a default, would they have admitted it? I doubt it. They would have to take responsibility for killing a legend. Besides all of that, if you look at pictures, there isn’t anything left of this vehicle. How could they tell if it had been tampered with? They said the tie rods were broken, but they think they were broken upon impact.
The accident was reconstructed and mapped out using photographs. The low flying machine had crossed into the opposite lane, crossed the grassy ditch, and passed an old gas station. Then it crossed the side road and slammed into an embankment. The big man was ejected from the vehicle and broke his neck upon impact. The legend had just enough strength left to whisper his daughter’s name.
Was Buford Pusser murdered? We may never know. Many have fought and spent thousands of dollars trying to find the truth, but this secret is buried deep in the Tennessee dirt.
What is the purpose of mankind? Humanity’s purpose is to serve others and leave a mark on this world. Whatever your opinion of this great lawman you must agree on one point. He definitely left a mark in history. He inspired thousands of people to stand up for what they believe in. Many people credit their law enforcement careers to his inspiration. What can you say? Have you done anything remarkable with your life? Walk on Buford the Bull.
I cannot possibly fit the entirety of this story in a blog post, so be watching out for a book. I will be writing about this famous lawman, his family, his enemies, and the stories that shaped McNairy County, Tennessee. When reading about this man’s exploits, an old Elvis Presley song came to mind. I would like to quote the lyrics here.
When you walk through a storm Hold your head up high And don’t be afraid Of the dark At the end of a storm Is a golden sky And the sweet silver song Of a lark Walk on through the wind Walk on through the rain Though your dreams be tossed And blown Walk on, walk on With hope in your heart And you’ll never walk alone You’ll never Ever walk alone Walk on, walk on With hope in your heart And you’ll never walk alone You’ll never Ever walk alone
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.
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.
Long before the phrase “Dixie Mafia” was coined by law enforcement officials, there was the State Line Mob. Like it’s successors, the S.L.M. were a barely organized band of
criminals that would do anything and everything to make money. They ran their criminal enterprises along the Mississippi and Tennessee border; hence the name. This deadly group would spawn a cast of characters like Jack & Louise Hathcock, Carl Douglas “Towhead” White, and even launch the legend of Sheriff Buford Pusser.
While Hollywood would catch wind of the infamous sheriff and create a series of “Walking Tall” films, they were highly exaggerated. The truth of the State Line Mob and the man who waged war against them was insane enough without extra dramatization. Over the course of the next few weeks I will dive into this tale. Corinth, Mississippi got a reputation in the 1940’s as a hideout for some Chicago Outfit members, and that continued for several decades.
This story weaves back and forth throughout the history of the south, but I will start our tale with one infamous hotel: The Shamrock Hotel & Grill.
This photo courtesy of the The Tennessean · 12 Aug 1973, Sun · Page 164
This rough and tumble establishment straddled the Mississippi/Tennessee state line and was owned by Jack and Louise Hathcock. While Jack was ruthless in his own right, his wife was the southern, hammer toting spitfire. Every vice known to man could be found at this little Dixie getaway. Murders and muggings were commonplace on the grounds of the Shamrock. Eventually, both owners would be killed there, but that’s a story for another day.
While much of the story of the State Line Mob is urban legend and can’t be officially documented, the crimes at Shamrock were well documented in police reports. It was said that visitors would be lured in by a cheap breakfast and then robbed of their valuables. If anyone complained to the police, they would wind up at the bottom of the river wrapped with logging chains.
Here’s one legend that I cannot debunk or verify, so I will let you decide:
At the age of 17, Buford Pusser witnessed Louise Hathcock literally beat a sailor to death with a ball-peen hammer. When the dirty cops arrived, they immediately took Hathcock’s suggestion that the man died of a heart attack. Supposedly this is why Pusser would later become a sheriff that refused to take bribes. Who knows? I’ll let you decide on that one, but I’ll be diving into the legendary lawman more next week.
Another character in this tale is Carl Douglas “Towhead” White. He was a southern outlaw with a goal. He wanted to become more infamous than Al Capone. Although he was a thief, assassin he never quite attained the reputation of his idol. Towhead was later rumored to be a lieutenant in the Dixie Mafia.
Louise Hathcock preferred Towhead over her husband Jack, and together they conspired to kill him. On May 22, 1964, Louise Hathcock killed her husband on the grounds of the infamous hotel. Of course, the story of self-defense was accepted, and no one was ever charged with the murder of Jack Hathcock.
Next week I will get into the war that raged between the State Line Mob and Buford Pusser. Don’t forget to check out my Mobster Monday posts each week along with my cold cases on Fridays.
The following links are for the benefit of Synova’s readers and are not an all inclusive source listing.
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Each week Synova highlights obscure cold cases on her blog as a victim’s advocate with the Missouri Missing organization. She never charges for her services. If you’d like to help support Synova in this worthy cause, please check out the affiliate links below and on the sidebar of 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. Thank you.
Photo courtesy of the 
This photo courtesy of the 
