Blatant Murder, Denied Justice & the Town's Demise: Navigating Through Trauma

By Sherry Lewis Henry, Aubrey Harness and Benjamin Treece

"BLATANT INJUSTICE" became the decision of the officials and townsfolk, in the aftermath of a very decent lady's murder, just a few days before Christmas of 1964. Olive Lewis was preparing her husband's lunch when she was shot in the head. As officials sat in her living room, viewing her dead body and her grand-babies' Christmas outfits on her s

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Oct 9, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649900562

Sherry Lewis Henry

Author Sherry Lewis Henry, Ph.D., MSW, is a licensed clinician who has worked in private practice, social service agencies and group therapy settings. She is an expert on Survivor Syndrome - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and has worked with the military in California, Hawaii, Texas and Japan. Her doctorate research paralleled the effects of domestic violence with survivors of the Jewish Holocaust and included consults with Drs. Viktor Frankl in Vienna, Austria and Paul Tournier in Geneva, Switzerland. She presented her findings at the 2nd World Congress of Alcoholism and Drug Abuse in Ramat Gan, Israel and did Volunteer Service in the Israeli Defense Force. Her primary presentation topic is, The Survivor's Mission.

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Endorsements

Sherry’s quest for truth is a compelling account of children living in fear and a loving wife’s submission to the alcoholism of her husband, yet it is more than that. It shows the spiritual and intellectual growth of the author as she channels her own pain, fear and oppression into a ministry to help others. This book clearly conveys how being a victim does not equate into victimizing others - rather, life can be rewarding and productive, even after such a loss as ‘murder in the family.’

Michael Latimer, Attorney, San Antonio,Texas

This is an excellent illustration of how one’s life course can be determined by the events that occurred in childhood. Childhood abuses leave lasting scars along with an implicit need to resolve and master overwhelming experiences. Sherry’s work reads like a mystery novel, weaved in social corruption, personal gult, anguish and intrigue.

Anne Course-Johanson, Ph.D., Cerritos, California

Most of what is worthy and of value is either born of pain or strongly associated with it. Through her personal and profound pain, Dr. Sherry Lewis has elucilated, distilled and explained a syndrome distinct and differentiated, that identifies the horrific experience of a particular category of victims. The term, ‘Survival Syndrome’ explains what for many sufferers has been wordless, captivating, enslavement. With Dr. Lewis’ seminal work, the victim and the treating clinician are given the conceptual tools, the optimism and a poignant and inspirational example of recovery. I highly recommend this book to those serious in their study of the devastations of trauma.

Robb Johanson, Ph.D., Cerritos, California

There is no greater existential struggle in life, than the pulling free from the dysfunctionalities of one’s own family. Dr. Sherry Lewis’ shocking autobiography is one such heroic struggle.

Robert M. Anthony, Ph.D., Oakland, California

Acknowledgments:

Tremendous gratitude is ever extended, to those very special individuals, who reached out - decades later, to volunteer valuable bits of Truth, to my family’s continuing, gnawing need for Justice.

Those individuals include: Sam Shannon, his sister Marie Shannon Edwards, Martha Jean Kidd, R.N. and Eva Pate, followed soon after by her son, James Cecil.

The National Organization of Murdered Children and Other Survivors of Homicide Victims, were wonderful in their overall support and alignment with Second Opinion Service and out-of-state pathologists.

Psychiatrists, psychologists, social workers and Pastors, who were paramount in my personal and professional quest, include:

Rev. Jimmy Swaggart, May 19, 1964,Madison, Tennessee. (Even Me, poem).

Dr. Robert H. Schuller and his Garden Grove Community Church-transforming into The Crystal Cathedral, and his ministry of, ‘Putting Strong Wings on Weary Hearts."

Dr. Robert Merkle, Supervisor, Christian Counseling Services: Crystal Cathedral.

Drs. Stan Terman and Rex Rook, of Orange County, California.

Dr. Viktor Frankl of Vienna, Austria.

Dr. Paul Tournier and Dr. Andre Weiss of Geneva, Switzerland.

BLATANT MURDER,

DENIED JUSTICE

&

THE TOWN’S DEMISE

BLATANT MURDER,

DENIED JUSTICE

&

THE TOWN’S DEMISE

Based on

Is It Still Murder?

When Someone Is Killed and Officials Refuse to Investigate,

by: Lewis, Maurer, Harness

Sherry Lewis Henry, Ph.D., MSW,

Aubrey J. Harness, B.S., Benjamin Treece, M.B.A.

Made in Charleston, SC

www.PalmettoPublishingGroup.com

Blatant Murder, Denied Justice & the Town’s Demise

© 2020 by Sherry Lewis Henry, Ph.D., MSW

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be repro-

duced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written

permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a

book review.

ISBN-13: 9781641118019

ISBN-10: 1641118016

Table of Contents

DEDICATION

MY 1-2-3/MY A-B-C

INTRODUCTION

1. FAMILY SETTING … OF … MURDER

2. PSYCHOTIC CULTURE

3. NEWS INCIDENTIALS

4. THE GOVERNOR - AGAIN

5. SCHOOL (?)

6. UP AND AWAY

7. RETURNING FOR EXHUMATION

8. WITNESSES AND REVISIONS

9. THE COMFORT ZONE

10. COMMUNITY DIAGNOSIS

11. ACCOMPLICES

12. DARE TO APPROACH?

13. THE SYSTEM

14. A NEW GOVERNOR

15. UNREACHABLE

16. EXPANDED HOME-FRONT

17. SOCIOPATHY

18. SUBMISSION

19. FINALITY

20. SURVIVOR SYNDROME

DEFINITIONS OF SYMPTOMS

INTRODUCTION TO POETRY

POEMS: Table of Contents

1. People Have Troubles

2. People Are Disappointments

3. My Old Rocking Chair

4. My Heroes: Roy and Dale

5. Neighbors in Apple Valley

6. To Dale, in Sympathy

7. Young Love

8. Forgive

9. Even Me

10. My Mother Lives

11. Missing You

12. Individual

13. I’ll Never Forget

14. Thou Knowest How

15. I Really Can’t Complain

16. Commitment

17. You and Me

18. Holy Ground

19. True Happiness

20. Early This Morning

21. ’Tis Why

22. Captivity Turned

23. Loneliness

24. The Gamble

25. My One in Three

26. My Special Friend

27. Gratitude

28. Resist the Devil

29. Truth, Our Real Friend

30. God’s Calling

31. I’m Coming to Know

32. Unexpressed Refuge

33. Alone

34. I Didn’t Know

35. God: The Judge

36. The Politics of Bigotry

37. Rest

38. Bestow Thy Peace on Me

39. Existential Thanksgiving

40. The Grand Finale

41. I Believe

42. Understanding and Forgiveness

43. Mom’s Best Loved

44. Aubrey’s Poem

45. My 1-2-3/My A-B-C

46. The Two Dear Ladies of ’64

SONGS: Table of Contents

1. TIME FLOWS FREELY

2. WORTHWHILE

3. THIS MIGHT BE THE MOMENT

4. ONE LOVE

5. A MOTHER LIKE MINE

6. VICITORY IN THE NIGHT

7. I WAS THERE

8. OUTSIDE THE DOOR

9. THOU HAST ANSWERED

10. HIS GOLDEN WAY

Dedication

Olive Stephens Lewis…Mrs. Cecil Lewis

She died two months after her fiftieth birthday, her thirtieth wedding anniversary, and her third Christmas as an excited grandmother to her babies, Cecelia and Aubrey, her two- and three-year-old granddaughter and grandson.

She loved her relationship with Jesus Christ and would recall being ‘born again’ as a teenager during a summer Bible school camp at the Martinville, Christadelphian Church near her home in Choctaw, Arkansas. She could still recite, in order, the names of the Bible’s sixty-six books, and she spoke often of various scriptural prophecies, including Armageddon. However, she only occasionally attended church with her family, believing that the church’s emphasis was on pretty clothes and social events. She regularly drove the children to Sunday School, knowing that was utmost important.

But when evangelistic revivals came to town, she loved to hear real preaching and wonderful singing. She appreciated her quiet time at home alone, while the family attended one of the local churches (her children enjoying the social events) in town.

She was ecstatic upon learning that her daughter had recently been, ‘born again,’ in such a revival while living out of state with her own family—just seven months before Olive’s death.

Olive Lewis enjoying a Christmas morning at home.

Olive had related how she was given peace following her own mother’s demise, after a period of grievous loss: One night I dreamed of visiting with her in heaven; she walked me all around, viewing such lovely, lovely scenes of the most beautiful flowers ever. And she’d say, ‘And oh, Olive, just look at these over here. You’ve never seen such amazing loveliness as this, have you, Dear? She would smile in gratitude for that visit.

She lived the golden rule and was consistently forgiving of others’ misdeeds, even in earlier violent years, insisting, He’s a good man. It’s the alcohol that’s to blame, not the man. She shared God’s own perspective of looking beyond one’s actions, to the person’s heart.

Yet, even she would have been amazed, at the churchgoers’ priorities in the aftermath of her own death, when no one in the town gave heed to the values of truth, justice, or compassion. Instead, the townsfolk, took cover.

Why? Why? Why? would become the never-ending, torturous mental dialogue of her daughters, abandoned, as was she, by those previously known as friends and relatives.

It would become a slow and arduous journey to the answers, because posttraumatic stress disorder was unknown at the time of this occurrence, in 1964, and this would be the realm the two young mourners would enter. The Jewish Holocaust had occurred, however, and the survivors’ experiences in those concentration camps cast a light through the long, dark tunnel to hope and healing. Much gratitude is owed to these people—their suffering was not in vain.

These pages include the journey into and through that hideous tunnel.

My 1-2-3/My A-B-C

I’m thankful this day, For my own ABCs,

For each is especially unique to me.

First, came the Aubrey—the big-brother guy…

The one so creative while a little bit shy;

He imagines the hows, the wheres, and the whys;

Fascinated with science and experiments to try.

Next, there is Benji – a sweetheart, no doubt;

He heartedly shares with others about.

He loves, and he cares, and he gives, with ne’er thought…

Though he’s the one who’s often without.

Cecelia easily persuades them her way,

With simply a smile, in her sweet Celia sway.

She’s cute as can be, A sharp little gal;

They both love her dearly—they’re all three special pals.

To me, they’re all great, still playful and small,

Though I’m oft’ reminded…

They’re a half century, all.

That seems to suggest that I could be…old?

Naw, I’m just happy…and proud as can be

For my three special blessings,

My A, B, and C.

Cecelia and Aubrey, pre-schoolers

Cecelia and Aubrey, U.S. ARMY

Aubrey and Cecelia 79 Reunion

Sherry and grandchildren, Mark Oliver and Jackie Nicole at Sherry’s childhood home.

Baby Benji

Young Adult

Cecelia and Benji

Older Benji

U.S. Air Force Benji

Benji, Aubrey and Sherry, at Corvette Diner, San Diego

Roy Rogers, King of the Cowboys

Roy with best Pal, Trigger

Roy, King of the Cowboys and Dale, Queen of the West

He righted the wrongs of the bad guys and achieved justice in the end.

Introduction

Once upon a time, there was a small town in Arkansas where everyone considered themselves neighbors. They were basically kind, responsible, and caring folks who would go out of their way to help one another, whenever help was needed. Most folks went to church regularly, and those who didn’t had a basic respect for the church and particularly for those who did attend regularly. None was particularly wealthy, but some were considered more fortunate and/or more comfortable than others, and yet they didn’t put on airs and were equally just nice folks in the little, cohesive Arkansas town.

The elementary school and the high school were located on opposite sides of the football field. Sports were a primary interest in the town, and high school athletes were admired, especially the football players. One year, two seniors—best friends and equally skilled players—were offered football scholarships to the University of Arkansas. To the surprise of most everyone, one of the boys joined the Air Force instead. The other one turned down the scholarship but went on to enroll at the university anyway; his parents paid his way.

Soon after the first student’s Air Force commitment ended, he became married to, in his mother’s words, a little sweetheart of a gal.

When a ghastly, horrendous event occurred in this quiet, tight-knit little Southern town, the entire community joined together in a way that had never before been seen nor heard of. It would take years, even decades, for it to be fully understood, why this entire community of kind, churchgoing folks would consistently and permanently turn its back on the innocent victims of an unfathomable crime that had stoically shocked everyone.

The following pages will detail the journey of one of the victims, who first had to relive her family’s early days: her childhood with an autistic, alcoholic father (before autism was known and AA was available), whose idiosyncratic intoxication (a little-known variant) led to domestic violence (an unspoken subject). Despite this, her childhood was pleasant and wholesome, and both parents were responsible, loving, and supportive.

Afterward, she struggled with posttraumatic stress disorder (long before this term existed). She desperately delved into school and single parenting, and she eventually started researching the Jewish Holocaust with survivors in order to understand her own plight. Eventually, she obtained documentation pertaining to those specific subjects’ symptomology, shared it with a professor she trusted, and from there began to get the therapeutic assistance that would begin to restore her emotional and mental deficits lost to personality change, or Persönlichkeitswandel.

Simultaneously, she began to ask, seek, and knock for the recklessly scattered puzzle pieces that she needed, to understand her own family’s holocaust.

Friends, neighbors, and relatives had all turned their backs on her dilemma, offering only their redundant advice to, Put this behind you and go on with your life!

They had apparently done so. Why could she not?

This process would require myriad cross-country trips, detectives, lawyers, and eventually the exhumation of a murdered family member, of whom orders had been given, to ‘not speak of.’ Then there would be the governor and the state police. Why the numerous lies and conflicting stories of the account? Why was this survivor the only one seeking out these services and paying for them personally? Where were the local and state officials? Where was the justice system?

Eventually, all these questions would be answered. Only after one man in the town had died, did his wife, who had remorse for the silence he had imposed on her, seek out the author to share some secrets. Then she suggested the author speak with her own son, who had lived out of state throughout the passing decades. This one family broke the case, which had never really been a case but a town secret. Pity the town.

The last puzzle piece was eventually given, nonchalantly, a half century later. By this time, absolutely no one in the quiet, close-knit little town could be, in any way, threatened by implication, embarrassment, unkindness, or apathy. Most of them were deceased. Certainly, this one specific family had produced the one remorseful lady who had been inspired to come clean. She apologized for what the town had done.

By this point, only one question remained, there was no reason to expect it would ever be answered. Only after this one kind lady’s demise did this specific answer surface—and only then as an incidental summary fortuitously given by the one kind lady’s daughter. Ironically, this one small family had both originated and concluded the lengthy, confounding mystery.

With this astounding puzzle completed, perhaps the absolute most essential concern of all concerns surfaces and ever demands our attention:

In whom do we put our trust?

We have free will. We are not robots. We have choices. We have time (although how much time, we cannot know), to decide in whom to put our trust.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. had thirty-nine years.

Marilyn Monroe had thirty-six years.

Princess Diana had thirty-six years.

John F. Kennedy had forty-six years

John F. Kennedy Jr. had thirty-eight years.

Elvis Presley had forty-two years.

Kobe Bryant – forty-two, and daughter Gianna – thirteen years.

And Abe Lincoln had fifty-six years

What difference does it make, in whom we put our personal trust, while we’re alive?

Only a life of happiness in this life and throughout eternity…which is a very, very, very long while…

1

FAMILY SETTING … of … MURDER

Cecil Lewis was an introverted, methodical, honest, hardworking, and responsible young man who graduated high school in the small town where he’d lived most of his life. He would be marrying another graduate of the same school, a pleasant, friendly, socially outgoing young lady who recognized his honesty, his good grades, his kindness, and his sense of responsibility. She highly respected him. Plus, both were attractive, which is generally of interest to the young romantics.

Mr. Lewis was already experienced in the business of his father, that of the lumber business, which required intense physical exertion, about which he never complained; in fact, he rather welcomed it. His bride-to-be was a nurturing individual who had considered a nursing career, but, lacking funds for advanced schooling, she decided that being a homemaker with her own husband and children would make for an ideal and totally satisfying career.

They made plans to marry and to scurry off to another state to work in the apple orchards and earn money for their own home. They did just that. They married, left their families behind, and had a meaningful first year of marriage, just picking apples and enjoying their adventure as brand-new adults and newlyweds in the faraway land of Tacoma, Washington. Eventually, they returned home and settled near his parents’ home, where he established his own business, adjacent to his father’s.

Cecil worked hard, and his wife, Olive—so proud of him—strived not only to establish a pleasant and comfortable home for them both, but she was even more focused on nurturing him, out of love and respect. When she observed him, becoming quietly frustrated or agitated as, for example, he would come to lunch and have to wait, she learned to be prompt with his meals and to cook the foods he preferred regularly. She was happy to be a devoted wife to the man she loved. He was a grateful husband to the girl he had married, and he was happy to work hard to provide for them both. They eagerly awaited their first child, which they had agreed to name after Cecil. Unfortunately, the baby was born one day when Olive was home alone; no one knew of her emergency, and she was unable to call for help. It is unfathomable what this experience of giving birth alone—to her first but stillborn baby—held for that young mother. Certainly, trauma was not a term used so much in the twentieth century. The baby was beautiful but had failed to survive. They sadly buried their lovely daughter, named Cecilia.

They were young, however, and both continued working in their respective roles and looked forward to their future together. In a short time, they were blessed with a son, whom they named Cecil Jr. He, too, was a lovely child, but he lived only a few days and was buried beside his sister, Cecilia. The doctors concluded that Olive’s future children would be cesarean births.

Certainly, if Olive suffered what in today’s world is referred to as postpartum depression, it might have gone undetected by others, perhaps leaving a degree of fear or anxiety regarding mothering, overall. Ironically, a devoted but autistic spouse would hardly acknowledge a deficit, much less compensate, for a subsequent temporary deficiency of mothering skills and baby-nurturing needs. It’s merely feasible.

Nevertheless, within the next year, their third child was born, and Ellis became their first child to survive as well as the first grandchild on both sides of the family. Since Cecil and Olive both had many siblings, Ellis was adored by uncles and aunts and both sets of grandparents alike. Two years later, their first daughter, Sherry, was born, and she, too, was welcomed by all. The family unit was a happy one, with both parents extremely responsible, good-hearted people devoted to each other and to their two children.

Five years later, when a third baby was expected, Cecil told Olive, I think we could use a bigger house, and since I’m in the lumber business, it will be inexpensive to build—we’ll use our own lumber, and the men can work on it when they aren’t busy otherwise. Olive was excited, and together they planned their future home, literally drawing up the design they would choose, and anticipated it would be ready by the birth of the new baby. Ellis and Sherry played in the framed rooms of the new house, enjoying it so much that it didn’t matter to them when it would be finished since they had a comfortable home to live in as well as a large playhouse to enjoy when the carpenters weren’t working on it.

Their second daughter, Robin, was beautiful, and when she was born, Olive exclaimed, "At last! My baby favors me, with her big, beautiful brown eyes(!), so, she gets my name, Olive Robin."

Soon, the family moved into its new, larger home and dismantled the small home behind it. Olive had noticed Cecil’s increased agitation as the home was being built, and she’d also experienced her own additional stress enduring her fifth pregnancy, so she