As we get older it becomes apparent that certain days and events of our lives seem to stand out in our memory as clear as the day they happened. I relive one of those days every year around February 4th. Please forgive me, this subject is a little hard to read or for me to wright, but its one of those times I need to express myself in order to move on with my daily life again.
It was early Monday morning February 4th, 1974; my wife Pat and I were still asleep in bed when we were awakened by sirens. We lived in the relatively small town of Fort Oglethorpe Georgia; a town small enough to enjoy quietly on most days, but hearing sirens every now and then was not all that unusual, especially since we lived only a few blocks from the local hospital. What was unusual was the number of different sirens that interrupted our peaceful morning enough for us to sit up and take notice. We both were wondering what in the world was going on, then the telephone rang! As always my heart sank. I know that when my phone rings very early in the morning or late at night, its usually not good news. This time it was a call from the hospital and the news was bad, really bad!
The call was from my aunt Mary, she worked as a nurse at Hutcheson Medical Center (Tri-County back then I think?) and the words she spoke to me came crushing through the phone as she said, "Johnny...Barry's dead! He's been shot and you need to get down here as soon as you can." That's all I can remember of our conversation. At first I could not accept that my brother was gone. There was no way he could be dead! I wouldn't be able to accept the news until I arrived at the hospital emergency room a short time latter. The drive to the hospital took only a few minutes, yet it seemed to take a lifetime. I knew that I had to go, but I was holding back inside with everything I had because I didn't want to face the reality of it all. A few minutes after arriving a hospital employee walked over to me and handed me Barry's personal belongings; things like his wallet, a ring, and keys along with a few other items, then they walked away. As I held those remnants of his life in my hands and looked at them, that's when reality flooded my inner being and I felt my mind descend into a deep fog. It was a state of confusion and anger that would engulf my entire being and unknowingly to me back then, I would not come out of this fog for at least ten long years.
I soon found out that Barry had been shot by two paid assassins as he walked two little girls to his car to take them to school. These so called hit-men had stolen a car and were waiting for Barry to come out of his front door. How brave to lie in wait for someone that has no chance to fight back! Hollywood glamorizes these hit-men types when in reality they are cowards that hide in the shadows for money! Barry had told me a few days earlier that there had been a "contract" placed on his life and he had given me the name of the one responsible if anything should happen to him, but regrettably I thought it was just a scare tactic used to frighten him. I thought to myself, "This kind of thing does not happen in North Georgia! They're trying to scare him, that's all." Had I known this threat was for real I would have stayed by his side day and night at least for a while or until we felt it was safe. By not believing it was a true threat on his life, I've been haunted with the reality that I was not there to help him since that day and I guess it always will be in the back of my mind. I can't help but think that if we had been prepared and watched for these punks together, then maybe the outcome would have been different? I'll never know. But now it was too late, the worse had happened, but at least because he had threatened Barry's life before, I already knew who paid the money to have this done. In a short time through some law enforcement friends that I trusted, I found out the names of the two men that carried it out as well. The battle of my life and soul had just begun.
My shock at all of this soon turned to thoughts about what would be coming next. "Mother has a bad heart...how can I tell her? She can never take this news and she will die on the spot." (when my pastor and I told mother about Barry she did almost die of shock and had to be rushed by ambulance to the hospital) Again I remember thinking, "I have to call my sister in Nashville and it will devastate her." (I'll never forget her screaming and crying one-hundred and twenty-five miles away and there was nothing I could do to help her). My thoughts were bombarded with the continual thoughts of anger! "I've got to find a way to get the ones that did this to my brother...but if I do I'll end up in prison and my family will suffer even more." "What would Barry do if it had happened to me? He'd go after them I know! I have no doubt that Barry would take care of them!" I also had to ask myself the question, "As a Christian...am I justified to take a life in this situation?"
The next few years were horrible to say the least! It took a couple of years before an arrest was even made. I had already talked about the man that paid for the slaying to anyone in authority that would listen, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. Not trusting some of the law enforcement officials, I made sure that they knew that others had the names of those responsible in case something happened to me. My wife Pat was pregnant with our first son and she had to endure as I received phone calls of threatening nature. People would call wanting me to meet them in out of the way locations stating that they would deliver one of the people responsible to me...dead! The local newspaper was threatened for publishing notes from my dad that kept the case alive. Barry's grave was trashed on a few occasions and at night we would watch and wonder about any car that drove slowly past our home. It was a difficult time for all of us. To make things worse a few years later the Catoosa County courts had failed to bring justice due to some very obvious corruption within back then. The man responsible for Barry's murder was set free without having a 100% jury vote to do so. After all of this, inside I began to feel that it was somehow up to me. In my fogged state of mind I found out exactly where the man lived that paid for my brother's death. He was still roaming around free. As time past I became obsessed with that man.
I traveled a lot in my work back then and there were no cell phones so my wife never knew what time I would be returning home. I didn't want my wife to worry about what I was doing so I took advantage of those late night hours before going home. I would make it a point to go to the Dayton Boulevard address I had verified and while there I would park up the hill from this piece of trash's house and sit there for hours. I sat there in my car with a 30/30 rifle beside me and a pistol in my lap just hoping to get a glimpse of the coward that paid to kill my brother. I know now that it was by the grace of God I never saw him coming or going. During this time my mother suffered a stroke and latter died, a few years later my dad passed as well never getting over Barry's death. Neither of them ever really recovered from this heartless act. My sister has grieved for years and her life has been devastated through it all. Basically the back shooting cowards killed more than Barry, they killed his family as well. Life has changed for all of us.
As of February 4th its been 37 years since that terrible morning that resulted in Barry's going home to be with the Lord. I admit that I still get angry at the thought of what those people did to Barry and our family for money. Thankfully I've learned to move on with life even though I can never forget. Barry was only 28 years old when this happened. He was a decent guy that really cared about people, especially people he felt were being mistreated. Even though we had our fights and arguments as we grew up, I always looked up to him. I've missed the years we could have had together growing older. I miss having a brother to confide in and to bounce my crazy ideas off of. I miss his strength, knowing I could count on him in any battle. I miss playing the guitar with him and laughing together!
Justice has partially been served. Two of the three men responsible have died in prison; the man that paid and one of the killers. Ironically they were in prison for other crimes, not Barry's death, but God still got them in the end. As for the other man, I've not been able to find him, but God knows where he is. Some say he is in the "Witness Protection Program." I don't know but I'll keep researching the internet, looking, and asking till I die. I owe that to Barry.
I'm sorry to drag you through some of the hardest days of my life but maybe there can be some lessons learned? If you love someone, never take their life for granted. Maybe its time to stop shouting at each other and really listen to what the other person is going through. Young, old, and in-between all have value. We get caught up in what is good for ourselves or..."ME" "Me" is all we want to talk about most of the time, its "My way or the Highway" while others desperately want and need to be heard. Many kids are on drugs and alcohol simply trying to find someone to listen and treat them as human. If we really listen we might be able to help change the life of others for the good or even save a life. But if we must always be intent on having our own way, it may just lead to devastation for those we love. Loosen up a little...Hug your kids more than you strike out at them. Have boundaries, say "no" when you have to, but say "yes" as often as you can. Learn to say I'm sorry to your family and friends (Nobody's Perfect not even you! lol :-) Everything can change in a heartbeat leaving you with a lifetime of regrets! Of course these are all reminders to myself of my mistakes more than anyone else so don't take it too personal.
Sorry, I didn't mean to write a novel here. I'll end by saying that even though I didn't truly hear what Barry was saying to me just a few days before his death as I should have; the good news for me is that I know there has been forgiveness available to me for my mistakes. I also have the very real hope that within the next 37 years (probably much sooner) I'll be with Barry, Mother, Dad, my sister, and relatives that have gone before...and most likely some of you too. We will start all over with a clean slate. (Hopefully my wife and sons and grandchildren will all come much later. I want to be with them, but I don't want to rush them if you know what I mean. :-)
I know this was a long blog entry and some dropped out when I said "Hello". If you made it this far then...Thanks for listening! At least I feel better now. Its called decompressing...I think? :-) Life goes on and there are many good things ahead! Never give up!
John
