Some call it “the middle of nowhere.” Others call it “God’s Country.” Walnut Hill is situated in the extreme northwest corner of Escambia County, Florida – right on the Alabama line.
On Sunday, July 3, 1938, Leonard Bynum, Eddie Wright, and a bunch of other guys were enjoying the long 4th of July weekend in Walnut Hill. They all had been drinking some, but Eddie was into it so much that he was more than tipsy – he was wasted.
The friends, who were all scheduled to play a game of baseball, loaded up in a truck to make the 20-mile trip to Pine Barren where the game was to be held.
“No, Eddie, you’re not going,” said Leonard, who was 46 years old. “You’re too drunk.” The truck sped off, leaving the younger Eddie to stew in his spirits.
After the game, the group gathered at Leonard’s step-sister’s house. Everyone was in good spirits…well, almost everyone. Eddie was sore about being left out of the truck ride to the game. What began as an argument with Leonard quickly progressed when Eddie pulled his knife out. What he didn’t count on was the 12-gauge shotgun that was close by. Leonard grabbed it and let go with a load of 00. Eddie died instantly.
Leonard knew it was coming. He didn’t even try to resist. Two days later, Constable Clint Rigby showed up at Leonard’s house and took him into custody. An August 4 trial date was set.
As the day approached, State Attorney Forsyth Caro felt it might be better for all concerned, since this was such a serious charge, that it first be brought in front of a Grand Jury. The trial was held off.
Sure enough, after hearing the evidence, the Grand Jury indicted Leonard on First-Degree murder charges. Seemed steep for what looked like it might have been self-defense.
The day finally arrived. On November 16, 1939 – four months after the killing – Leonard walked into the courtroom, flanked by his attorney, D. Webster Berry, ready to present their side and the claim of self defense. The trial went back and forth, with testimony from witnesses conducted by both Caro and Berry. At the end of the day, Judge L. L. Fabisinski gave it to the jury.
“We are deadlocked, Your Honor,” said the jury foreman. Judge Fabisinski declared a mistrial. Not free yet, but one step closer. The state would have to determine whether or not to retry Leonard.
And retry him they did. On January 20, 1939, Leonard and Webster again gathered in Judge Fabisinski’s courtroom, with Forsyth Caro seated at the prosecutor’s table. Late that night, after seven hours of deliberation, the jury came back with a decision. But they sealed it and waited until the next morning to make it public.
This time was different. This one didn’t go Leonard’s way. He was found guilty. At his sentencing on January 25, Judge A. G. Campbell said, ““You should have gotten the electric chair.” Instead, he got 40 years in state prison.
Makes you kinda feel sorry for a guy that was simply trying to defend himself…
Until the next year, when he stood trial again and was convicted again. Apparently, Leonard was not happy with his housekeeper, so he shot her twice. When she collapsed, he emptied the revolver into her. Another life sentence.
Mike