An excerpt from the book, “Some Gave All,” available on Amazon
By Mike Simmons
On May 23, 1911, Florence Adams gave birth to Len Burt[1]. They called him Burton, or Bert for short. Bert was likeable – very likeable. He had an infectious smile that made him the life of the party. Everyone wanted to be around him.
He was one of those guys. He attracted people. He was also ambitious. As a young man, he made the decision to go to college, something that was unusual for someone from Smithdale. Further, he chose to move to Pensacola, Florida, 245 miles away. That was a day’s drive from Smithdale. Bert was on his own.
In 1958, he landed a job working for Sheriff Emmitt Shelby as a deputy sheriff. Bert worked anywhere in the county he was assigned, but he liked working the west side the best. One of the reasons was that he could work with Leslie Brock, another deputy. Leslie was younger than Bert. While Bert was 57, Leslie was only 31. Bert was kinda like his big brother.
Sunday, June 15, 1958, 10:00 PM: Mr. and Mrs. Pierce Jernigan lived in the community of Bellview in rural Escambia County. It was a dream – a farmhouse on some land, sounded great! And life was great. Their pride and joy was Wesie, the nickname for their daughter. Wesie was a beautiful – no, a stunning – young lady. In 1950, she won the “Sweetheart of Pensacola Little League.” It was an understatement to say that the Jernigans were proud of her.
As with most young people, however, things became rocky at home. Wesie had a boyfriend, Ed Golden, a local used car salesman. But he was more than just a boyfriend. The two young people had made up their minds that they were going to get married. As a matter of fact, they were supposed to have tied the knot the day before, on Saturday, June 14, but it didn’t happen.
Ed was from good stock. His family, the Goldens, were prominent in northern Santa Rosa County. He lived in Jay, Florida, where a lot of farmers had discovered oil on their property and, just like the Beverly Hillbillies, struck it rich.
But Mr. Jernigan didn’t like him. He and Ed didn’t see eye-to-eye. Ed, Mr. Jernigan believed, wasn’t right for his daughter. So when, on the night of June 14, Ed and Wesie didn’t come home, Mr. Jernigan was furious. They searched, called, and searched some more – without success. When they pulled into their driveway that evening, Ed’s car was there, and two people were sitting in it.
Ed and Wesie had been out all night. It wasn’t something she was familiar with, and she knew her father would be angry. She was right. When his car pulled into the driveway and blocked Ed’s car in, she knew trouble was brewing. Mr. Jernigan got out, looked past Ed to his daughter, and demanded that she get out of the car. She refused. He kicked out the closed car window, reached in and tried to pull her out of the car. Ed intervened and grabbed the old man’s arm. Mr. Jernigan then made reference to getting a shotgun and coming back. Wesie and Mrs. Jernigan and their son, Raymond, pleaded with him not to. Ed, not to be outdone, produced a handgun. Of course, this made matters worse. Wesie became more worried than she was. Raymond got the shotgun away from his father, but Ed continued to wave the gun around and threaten. Raymond, in obedience to his father, went inside and called the sheriff’s department. He was told that the deputies were on their way.
Deputy Leslie Brock’s father was riding with him that night. He did that from time-to-time as a civilian. That way, he could spend time with his son. A ride-along was usually interesting as well. The two Brocks were with Deputy Adams at a local drive-in restaurant enjoying a break when the call went out. Bert, an outstanding deputy, had only been with the sheriff’s office four months[2].
Leslie answered it. The call was about a family disturbance on Saufley Field Road in Bellview. Family disturbances are potentially one of the most dangerous situations for lawmen. Further, the dispatcher said that the man inside the car had a gun. Suddenly, the danger level ramped up. Leslie responded that he was on his way. Bert radioed in that he was going to back up his comrade. Within minutes, both cruisers arrived on the scene.
As Leslie got out of the cruiser, he saw a man and woman outside a car arguing with the occupants. He immediately took control. He approached the car and asked the angry young man if he was okay. Then, as Bert was approaching, he said, “Son, give me the gun.” The young man answered by suddenly producing the .32 caliber handgun and shooting at Brock. The round struck him in the neck. The next shot hit the approaching Deputy Adams in the head. Both lawmen went down.
Ed jumped out of the car and began chasing Mr. and Mrs. Jernigan into the house. They ran through the house as far as they could go into the bedroom. Ed shot again and again and again at the couple. He fired four rounds, striking Mr. Jernigan in the arm and grazing Mrs. Jernigan’s arm. Then he fled into a wooded area behind the house. As he was running, Raymond Jernigan picked up Deputy Brock’s dropped gun and fired at Ed three times but missed. Ed got away into the woods.
Brock’s father, seeing his son gravely injured, threw him into the cruiser and started for the hospital. The younger Brock pleaded with his dad to go back so he could check on Bert Adams, but the older man sped toward Baptist Hospital. The City Ambulance Service arrived almost immediately and picked up Deputy Bert Adams, who was critically injured.
Within minutes, forty law officers surrounded the woods, intent on finding the killer. Every inch was searched by the deputies and officers, but Ed Golden was not located. That didn’t stop the determined lawmen, though. They kept up the search relentlessly.
Have you ever thought about what it would be like to have your life shattered to bits within a few minutes? Just imagine the peaceful Adams home with Mom and the three sons enjoying a Sunday evening, waiting for Dad to come home, which was never to happen. A notification, a frantic drive to the hospital, the terror of the story, a few hours of crying…waiting…praying. Then it came, just before midnight. Deputy Adams had succumbed to his injuries. In a moment, Mrs. Adams became a widow, and the three boys would finish their childhood fatherless. All because of a senseless act by a selfish young man.
The next morning, as deputies were still persistently searching for Golden, he was spotted at a telephone booth on Mobile Highway, not far from the murder scene. At such a moment, performing the job of a professional law enforcer and overcoming the urge to assail vengeance upon a cop-killer is one of the most difficult tasks in existence. But the deputies maintained their composure and took the felon into custody without incident.
Ed Golden didn’t resist, but he didn’t turn himself in. He willingly accompanied the deputies to the Sheriff’s Office where he gave a full and complete confession. He seemed genuinely sorry for his actions. His father, who seemed like a decent man, could only say, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
The funeral was – like all funerals – sad and reverent. And, like all officers-killed-in-the-line-of-duty funerals, it was well attended, with crisp uniforms and shiny leather, guns, and badges. Blue lights galore were present during the drive to the cemetery. It was a sendoff second to none…but it didn’t bring Bert back.
Len Burt Adams’ Funeral
The Goldens may have been sorry, but they wasted no time in forming the dream team to defend their son. Joe Harrell, perhaps the most respected attorney in town, Forsythe Caro, longtime Pensacolian and former county solicitor, and Curtis Golden, distant cousin, and future State Attorney, made up the team.
Were they making a name for themselves? Were they diligently doing a job? Did they believe he was innocent? Or maybe, as has often been said, were they simply prostitutes, representing whoever gave them money? The role of an attorney is often misunderstood. You see, all three of the men were upstanding, honest, straight-shooters. It is their job to see that their client – the defendant – receives adequate defense. Did the jury know the whole story? They no doubt had read what was printed in the local papers. But that was simply the reporter’s version of the witnesses’ statements and what the report said. Had anyone heard the story from the defendant’s side? Probably not.
Monday, October 21, 1958, 9:00 AM: The county courthouse was full that morning. Full of Television and newspaper reporters, Escambia County deputies, police officers, spectators, court officers, and especially…jurors. Just before 9 AM, 37 jurors were escorted into the large courtroom and seated. Immediately, the dream team started looking them over intently. Scrutinizing just as closely was the team of prosecutors: State Attorney Ed Wicke, Assistant State Attorney Gillis Powell of Crestview, and R. H. Merritt, who was representing Sheriff Shelby.
To begin the Voir Dire (the questioning of the prospective jurors), all prospects were placed under oath. Of the 37, ten challenges (options to excuse) were used up by the defense and nine by the prosecution. Six others were excused for cause. In all, eleven men and one woman were chosen.
Both sides conducted opening arguments. Ed Wicke and Joe Harrell went head-to-head like the professionals they were. Wicke was determined to prove pre-meditation and Harrell was determined to convince the jury that there was no pre-meditation by Golden.
The prosecution went first, as is normal. The veteran attorneys placed before the jury what looked like a slam-dunk guilty case. From the picture they painted, Golden made up his mind to shoot both officers and both parents present. Every element was there for the defense to have to dismantle. If they were going to get a Not Guilty verdict, they were going to have to work for it.
And work for it they did. Between the three high-powered attorneys, they countered every element the prosecution built. From the defense point of view, Golden was a scared boy who was simply defending himself and his girlfriend from the abusive father, unkind mother, and violent deputies.
Finally, the jury was given the case and retired to the jury room. Now came the guessing game. What were they discussing? Were they convinced he was guilty? Probably. But…maybe something was said or done that made them question it…after all, they only needed a reasonable doubt. Maybe…
At first, everyone waited outside, hoping for a quick turnaround. One hour went by – nothing. Slowly, one-by-one, the people waiting started to amble off. Some went home, some to work, but most went to lunch. Two hours, three hours. Some came back to sit and wait. Four hours – still nothing. Finally, at five hours, the knock came on the door.
“Your Honor,” said the bailiff to Judge Stuart Gillis as he stuck his head in the jurist’s office. “The jury has a verdict.”
The judge ordered everyone to be notified and to take positions in the courtroom. After everyone, including Ed Golden, was seated, the judge nodded to the bailiff to bring in the jury. They filed in without looking at anyone, even the defendant. Is that good or bad?
“Have you reached a verdict?” Judge Gillis asked the foreman.
“We have, Your Honor,” came the answer. Silence.
The foreman handed the bailiff the verdict form, who handed it to the judge. Judge Gillis looked read it silently, then gave it to the bailiff and said, “Read the verdict and have it recorded.”
The bailiff took the form, turned toward the courtroom, and professionally announced “Not Guilty.”
Like the crescendo during a symphony, yells, screams, sighs, groans, all together sounded. The judge called for order in the court. Then an outcry was heard. “Not Guilty?!” said the widow, Mrs. Adams. She broke into sobs.
Joy, anger, hurt, celebration – they were all felt. One thing was sure – not many people were in that courtroom without emotion.
Ed Golden was eventually acquitted of the attempted murder of Bert Adams’ partner, Leslie Brock. However, on the charges of shooting Mr. and Mrs. Jernigan, Ed was convicted and sentenced to ten years in prison. He served two years before he was released.
Escambia River Friday, April 4, 1975, 11 AM: If a person were to drive east from Century to Jay, Florida along State Highway 4, he would find himself driving through a thick, swampy wooded area stuffed with pines, junipers, and oaks. In its own way, it is a beautiful drive. Alonzo McCain and his son, Joe Frank, lived in Atmore, sixteen miles away as the crow flies. They were driving along Highway 4 between Century and Jay. When they crossed the bridge over the river, they noticed a body lying in about four feet of water. Ed Golden was dead. A gun was lying nearby. Ed had been shot in the head and died instantly.
[1] WWII Draft Cards Young Men 1940-1947, https://www.ancestry.com/discoveryui-content/view/12436796:2238?tid=&pid=&queryId=51ad029fa1cdb47d975051ebd5cfe8ae&_phsrc=mYm2772&_phstart=successSource. Acquired 10/02/2022
[2] Pensacola News Journal, June 18, 1958. Acquired 10/02/2022