James M. Redwine

Posey County

You Can Go Home Again and Again

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JPeg Ranch in Indiana. Photo by Peg Redwine

For many satisfying years Peg and I made our home in Posey County, Indiana among friends and family. During those years we were blessed with treasured visits from friends and family from out west, mainly my birth state of Oklahoma. Now that we have returned to make our home in Osage County, Oklahoma, as we reconnect with old friends and fond memories, we are occasionally blessed with visits from friends and family from southern Indiana. It is not frequent enough for us but is sweet when it occurs.

Therefore, we were pleased when we received an email from Mt. Vernon, Indiana high school senior, Carlton Redman, saying he had read our book JUDGE LYNCH! that we published in 2008, and for which my sister Jane nee Redwine Bartlett wrote the poignant Foreword. Carlton asked if I would participate in a Zoom call with his English class to discuss the book’s exposé of the long hidden horrific murders of seven Black men in Posey County in 1878; we were gratified for his interest. Carlton’s Redman family has deep roots in Posey County and his grandfather, Carl J. Redman, is an old friend of mine. Carlton’s uncle, Robert Redman, served as my court bailiff for several years. Another of Carlton’s uncles, Martin Ray Redman, was not only a fine public servant but also one of my best friends. Carlton’s cousin, Greg Redman, played baseball and graduated with our son, Jim, from Mt. Vernon High School. And, Dave Pearce along with his wife, Connie nee Redman Pearce, have carried my newspaper column, “Gavel Gamut”, in the Posey County News for many of the column’s 32 years and over 900 articles. In other words, unbeknownst to Carlton before he contacted me, the fine Redman family and my family have many pleasant connections and his aunt and uncle’s newspaper has often helped tell the story of the 1878 lynchings.

But that’s not why Carlton contacted me. He had been assigned by his teacher, Mary Feagley, to do a classroom project and he chose to investigate Posey County’s long and interesting history by reading our book and then having me appear in his class via the Internet on December 16, 2022 to discuss it. I was honored to do so as our son received a fine education from the Mt. Vernon school system and we have only good memories from his time there and our time in Posey County.

Photo by Peg Redwine

Gentle Reader, I hope you have read or will someday read JUDGE LYNCH! which is a historical novel, but refers to much of Posey County’s rich history. That Ms. Feagley has guided her students to know their own history gratifies but does not surprise me. Mt. Vernon High School has had several excellent teachers, such as Jerry King, who know our future is determined by our past and we need to know it, both good and bad.

In fact, Jerry and his wife, Marsha, appeared in the movie we made in 2011 about the murders of 1878. They reenacted General and Mrs. Alvin P. Hovey and even furnished their wonderful Pioneer Village for sets for the movie, for which my brother, C.E. Redwine, did the haunting music. Numerous Posey County and Evansville, Indiana residents volunteered their time and effort in the movie to help bring the previously hidden and forgotten terrible events of autumn 1878 to light. In fact, that movie premiered in my hometown of Pawhuska, Oklahoma at the Constantine Theater on June 11, 2011 at the First Ben Johnson Film Festival and has been shown several times in New Harmony, Indiana and elsewhere since then. JUDGE LYNCH!, its sequel, Unanimous for Murder published in 2021 that incorporates history from both Posey County and Osage County, and the movie are available at the Alexandrian Public Library in Mt. Vernon and Capers Emporium in New Harmony, Indiana. In Oklahoma they are available at the Pawhuska Public Library, the Osage County Historical Society Museum and Woolaroc Museum. And then, of course, from our website, www.jamesmredwine.com.

Carlton, his teacher and his classmates are helping the community remember what we must not forget, ignore or repeat. Thank you Carlton and Ms. Feagley. I was honored to serve forty years as a Posey County Judge and was honored to have JUDGE LYNCH! used to help preserve and expose our history.

Now that we live in Oklahoma we occasionally get to re-visit southern Indiana and see family and friends there. These times are rare but valued treasures, just as we used to feel when we lived in Indiana and visited Oklahoma. What Peg and I have found to our delight is that if one lives in both Posey County, Indiana and Osage County, Oklahoma, you have two homes and you CAN go home again, repeatedly.

“The Veranda” at JPeg Osage Ranch. Photo by Peg Redwine

Game On

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Peg and I sat in our warm cabin on the Osage County, Oklahoma prairie recently and watched the live stream of the state high school semi-final football game between the Pawhuska Huskies and the Cashion Wildcats. Thank you www.kpgmtv.com!

It is not that we are only fair-weather fans; we have enjoyed attending the Huskies games in person since we moved from Posey County, Indiana to Osage County, Oklahoma two football seasons ago. However, this state semi-final match was played on a neutral field about 70 miles from our home so we opted for armchairs. It was still an exciting game, final score 35-31.

And while we truly appreciated the free live-feed, there were parts of the game that may have slipped our attention. So, if my observations are not 100% accurate, that is my excuse. That said, as Fareed Zakaria might say, “here’s my take” on the game.

The opening ceremonies affirmed both schools’ commitment to all that is good about high school sports. Then the hard-hitting play that followed had to make both fan bases proud. Neither team ever let up from an all-out effort on offense, defense and special teams. There were few penalties and none for unnecessary roughness, late hits, unsportsman’s-like conduct or taunting. There was no taunting, only two fiercely competitive groups of finely disciplined and talented, well raised and well coached young players. The game could be used in civic classes as an example of why high school sports are an important component of education.

These players likely all started in the summer of 2021 with two-a-day practices and sacrificed fun times for sweat and misery to be ready for this 48 minutes. High goals were set and achieved. Most significantly those goals included giving their best, not just in the game of football but in their examples of how sports can help mold character. It was unquestionable that each player on both teams wanted to win. However, Peg and I saw several players from both teams help their opponents up and even pat their adversaries on the back during the game. There were no fights or shouting matches or claims of bad calls. Football for football’s sake was the standard.

As a graduate of Pawhuska High School, I was gratified by the lessons these players so obviously had learned. The same would have been true had I gone to Cashion. So, thank you to the parents, coaches and teachers who set these young people on the right track and thank you to the players for a great game.

Sour Grapes

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Painting by Shirley (Smith) Redwine

Aesop (620–564 BC.) was a slave in ancient Greece who told morality tales. Aesop’s fables generally used irony and experiences from everyday life to illustrate their lessons. Negro spirituals provided the same type of psychological relief for slaves in America. Each Fourth of July as we celebrate our country’s freedom from Great Britain in 1776 we honor the principles of democracy handed down to us by those brilliant and courageous ancient Greeks. But the Greeks from c. 2500 years ago and our Founders from 245 years ago were seeking a perfect society, not establishing one.

Athena was claimed to have sprung full-grown from the mind of Zeus and the United States is often claimed to have been born free and equal when we adopted our constitution. However, the goddess of justice and justice in America were ideals not reality. We know there is more work to do and we are doing it. Independence Day celebrations are a good time to reflect on the hard work remaining.

Each Fourth of July our family, probably much as your family Gentle Reader, get together to renew and reminisce. This year we are gathering at the Constantine Theater in Pawhuska, Oklahoma on July 16 and 17 during the wonderful Cavalcade Rodeo event. Shirley (Smith) Redwine has graced our family for well over half a century after she competed as a queen contestant and barrel racer in the Cavalcade. You can see her in the painting she created. You go Cowgirl!

Shirley’s husband and our eldest sibling, C.E. Redwine, is a wonderful professional musician and is coordinating a family jam session at the Constantine. We will have saxophone, ukulele and guitar players of various persuasions as well as singers and talkers. We will not pay you to attend nor will you have to pay to come visit with Pawhuska High School graduates from 1954, 1955, 1960 and 1961 on July 17th from 2-4 p.m.

This same group got together at the Constantine in 2011 when we showed the movie we made of my historical novel JUDGE LYNCH!. That horrific tale of injustice and its brand-new sequel Unanimous for Murder involve the legacy of slavery, segregation and integration in Posey County, Indiana and Osage County, Oklahoma. Those sad stories also involve an Aesop-type irony from 2011. It reminds me of the bittersweet years when we had Colored Folks and White People.

 

When Peg and I wrote JUDGE LYNCH! I borrowed, with his prior permission, the name of one of my childhood friends. Travis Finley is a sports legend, minister and former Pawhuska City Councilman. I used his name for a character in JUDGE LYNCH! When we returned to Pawhuska from New Harmony, Indiana in 2011 to show the movie we made we invited Travis and his wife Edna to attend the premier. As I was up on the stage of the Constantine explaining the book and movie, I looked out in the audience to find Travis and Edna; they were not visible. After my introduction I searched the downstairs of the theater then went to the balcony. There, just the two of them, sat Edna and Travis. I went up to them and said, “What are you doing up here?” They reminded me of what America has been and what it was meant to be when they answered, “When we were kids we weren’t allowed to sit downstairs so now we don’t want to. Besides, you can see better from up here.”

Happy birthday, America. Let’s keep perfecting!

Distancing

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President Lincoln reportedly used to occasionally sit on the back steps of the White House and talk to old friends who might just drop by. President Truman used to play poker at his Key West, Florida White House with ordinary folks. President Jackson invited the hoi polloi to his inauguration and they came and trashed the White House. There was a time America’s leaders thought of Americans as equals, or at least not as persona non grata. Now there are fences and armed guards at the White House and the only time a president makes personal contact with Americans is to have a photo op. Democracy is now pretty much non-democratic.

Our politicians often ascribe the responsibility for this metamorphosis to need for security, that is, fear of contact with us. I suggest it has more to do with their desire to just pick up their tax payor funded paychecks while being left alone. Kind of like getting COVID-19 checks not to work. Anyway, my experience in working for the public has been that it has not been a concern for my security or anyone else’s that has brought about such distance between public servants and the public. But it comes more from a realization that there simply is very little difference between those who control the government and those who are controlled by it, and the controllers are afraid that will be found out. At least that is true with the judicial branch and the legal system. I invite you, Gentle Reader, to return with me to at least one incident from those “thrilling days of yesteryear” to help me illustrate my concerns about the loss of direct connection to our office holders.

When the State of Indiana used justices of the peace to process most minor legal matters such as driving offenses and small civil claims, the “courts” were often held in the homes or store fronts owned by the justices. One would appear before some non-formally trained person who would dispense justice in a relaxed atmosphere and at little cost. Then we “improved” the system by requiring legally educated and licensed judges and publicly financed court facilities. Everything became more complex, costlier and more distant.

In Posey County, Indiana the County Court that replaced the Justice of the Peace system in 1975 was jammed into a portion of the 1927 Memorial Coliseum Building. The original coliseum was built as a community center. It had a swimming pool, a gymnasium, a stage for shows and a pool table. The new County Court, including the judge’s chamber, took up three small rooms next to where the pool table was. And another feature was the closet in the approximately 20-foot by 30-foot courtroom where the Daughters of the American Revolution ladies kept their regalia to be used in their meetings that also were held in the courtroom.

When I was the Chief Deputy Prosecuting Attorney for Posey County, 1976-1978, I tried six-person jury trials in that courtroom. As we had no separate jury room we would try a case then leave the jury in the courtroom alone to deliberate on their verdict. Everyone in the courtroom could reach out and almost touch everyone else. Of course, there was little pretense of confidentiality. I know it sounds bizarre but it worked okay and no one, including the judge and the attorneys, could arrogate themselves into special status. Please let me tell you about one of my favorite cases from that halcyon time.

I was a little younger then and one of the cases I prosecuted involved a misdemeanor charge against a Billy ______ who was about my age. Billy represented himself in the jury trial. After Billy and I traded accusations and insults during final arguments the judge gave the case to the jury then ordered the courtroom cleared except for the jury. Billy and I stepped out to the adjoining room where both a soft-drink machine and the pool table were located.

As we attempted to ignore one another, Billy turned to me and said, “Hey, Jim, do you play pool?” As I grew up in Pawhuska, Oklahoma at a time when the only thing other than the ball field was the pool hall, of course I played pool.

“Yeah, Billy, I play pool and I can beat you at that too. By the way, I thought you did okay in court, but be prepared for the gavel to fall.” I was much more sure of myself then.

“Jim, do you want to put anything on the pool game?”

“No, Billy, that would be illegal; go ahead and break.” I did not mention that a portion of my tuition at Oklahoma State University came from non-legal lucre.

Well, we played as the jury was busy deciding they didn’t care if I thought Billy was a menace to society; they sided with Billy. Since that trial Billy and I have had several contacts of the legal variety and you may note Billy is still playing pool but now my pool table is in my barn.

In my opinion, America could use a reprise of some of that by-gone legal system where the people who are processed and those who do the processing are not separated by layers of convolution. As Eva Peron might say, ♫ I’ll keep my promise, don’t keep your distance.” ♫

It’s Complicated

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Sorry! Could not find a pic of 1956 Ford Fairlane Convertible-this one is a 1955. It will help you get the idea.

Gentle Reader, should you have read last week’s column you may recall it involved issues of how our legal system processes non-violent illegal drug users. Well, I know at least one person besides Peg read it as that person sent me an email outlining his views about my views. As I was surprised that anyone had read my article and had even taken the effort to respond to it, I carefully considered his positions. It also helped that the reader has been a good friend of mine for several years and is well informed and thoughtful on issues of public interest. Sometimes we agree; sometimes we do not. However, he, and, I hope I, always respectfully hear out the entire discussion.

To recap last week’s topic, it contained my chance encounter with a convicted drug dealer who is still on probation after doing four years in prison. He shared the details of his crime and current status on his “split” sentence with me after it came out in our generally casual discussion that I, as a trial judge, had the experience of confronting a defendant in court who had stolen my car twenty years earlier. That surreal coincidence developed as set out below.

In 1965 I had just received my honorable discharge from the United States Air Force and had moved to Indianapolis, Indiana with my wife and son. I found a job selling encyclopedias for P.F. Collier Company door to door. One of my co-workers was a young man I knew as Sam whose last name was of the three-syllable type and hard to forget. Sam and his wife were as poor as we were but he fell in love with my 1956 Ford Fairlane convertible. I had paid $350 for it but planned to replace it with a more family suitable model.

Sam implored me to sell him my car for cash with the promise he’d pay me $50 per week for seven weeks as we received our Collier paychecks, assuming of course, that we sold anything. I acquiesced, and gave him the keys and never saw the car again. The next time I saw Sam was when he appeared in front of me charged with a home burglary to which he offered to plead guilty per a deal he and his attorney had worked out with the Prosecuting Attorney.

When I read the pre-sentence investigation a dim light began to glow. In open court, in the presence of Sam’s attorney and the Prosecutor the following colloquy occurred:

            Judge:  “Mr. ( ), your first name is in the pre-sentence as ( ). Have you ever been known as Sam?”

            Sam: “Yeah, that’s an old nickname.”

            Judge: “Mr. ( ), the pre-sentence lists your residence as in the state of Oregon. Did you ever live in Indianapolis?”

            Same (somewhat surprised): “Yeah, but I left there pretty quickly.”

            Judge: “Mr. ( ), when you were in Indianapolis did you ever sell encyclopedias for P.F. Collier?”

            Sam (really surprised): “Yeah, I did.”

            Judge: “Mr. ( ), you stole my car!”

Naturally, I offered to recuse and get Sam another judge and I took a recess so Sam and his attorney could discuss the situation. But, as Sam had had about as much experience with our legal system as I had between 1965 and 1985, he just advised me that he only came to Posey County, Indiana to burglarize a home. Then he told me, “Judge, I just want to get out of your county jail and get back to prison as soon as possible.” After his attorney agreed and with the Prosecutor’s blessing, Sam got his wish.

This true story of how the system handled a defendant led the probationer I told it to to describe how his sentence had afforded him an opportunity to work and support his family versus simply serving out his entire ten-year sentence. In last week’s article I wrote approvingly of a system based more on forgiving 70 x 7 than long-term incarceration. My friend who disagreed with that approach supported his views with sound reasoning, albeit not as sufficient to persuade me.

When I prosecuted drug offenses for seven years my views were similar to my friend’s but after forty years of judging such situations, I find myself doubting the efficacy of spending $20,000 per year of taxpayer funds to house non-violent offenders. However, I do understand those who think the way I used to. I am glad I serve in a legal system and live in a country where all rational views can be fairly debated and tested; that does remain true, right? And I am glad to have friends with the fairness to discuss such matters with an open mind.

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