Digging Up the Dirt

CHAPTER XXII 
DIGGING UP THE DIRT 
ON JUNE 4, 1954, about mid-afternoon, a successful young Birmingham lawyer, who had the world by the tail, rode the elevator to the ground floor from his offices in the Title Guarantee Building. He carried a sheaf of papers under his arm. He walked briskly the three blocks to the Molton Hotel where he rode the elevator to the eighth floor and strode confidently into Room 802. 
During his brief journey, the attorney stopped to chat with acquaintances. His usually cheerful face broke into quick smiles at the slightest opportunity. He was a husky, pleasant, personable chap with an open, honest-looking countenance. 
Most of the people with whom he talked asked him for an opinion on the Attorney General's race, the run-off between Phenix City Attorney Albert Patterson and Gadsden Attorney Lee (Red) Porter having been held only three days earlier. The results still were in doubt, although Patterson was leading as he had done in the first Democratic primary against Porter and another candidate. 
The run-off election was close. Exceedingly close. 
Even three days after the election, final determination of the winner was in doubt. Errors could have been made in the unofficial tabulations and the official statewide count was not to take place until the following week. Patterson had led his nearest opponent in the first primary by 70,000 ballots. Now, in the all important second race, he was struggling to retain a lead of between 1,000 and 2,000 votes. 
Despite the thrill of a close and hard fought political race, the individuals who talked with the young Birmingham attorney were excited by other facts. Both candidates had claimed the other was supported sub rosa by the Phenix City gambling crowd. Up until the final days of the campaign, Governor-Nominate James E. Folsom had not taken an active part in the Attorney General fracas. 
He was enjoying his own triumph of a month earlier in which he had trounced six opponents. Then, in the last week of the run-off, Folsom declared his backing of Porter. 
Could the popular Folsom swing the election to Porter? Could Porter overcome a deficit of 70,000 votes? Who, in truth, did have the Phenix City brigades behind him? 
These were meaty questions and the young attorney was on his way to learn some of the answers. He was anxious for the day to end because on the following afternoon he and his family were off to Panama City, Florida, for a much anticipated vacation. Since January, as chairman of the Jefferson County Democratic Executive Committee, A. Lamar Reid had wrestled with political problems. Candidates discussed their woes with him. Voters sought his advice. Newspapers wanted information. There were a million and one details to be expected. 
Now the election was over. His committee, the day previously, had met and certified that in Jefferson County Patterson polled 23,858 votes to 23,060 for Porter. Reid was not too pleased with the outcome in his county for he not only had endorsed Porter personally but had made television appearances in Porter's behalf. Nevertheless, an election was an election. Reid himself bad been beaten a month earlier in a post he had sought, and he knew the taste of defeat. 
As Reid entered Room 802 of the Molton, a clean-faced, bespectacled man with an owlish expression came hastily up to greet him. 
"Hello, Lamar,'' he said, extending his hand in a quick, nervous gesture, "You got here fast. Are those the papers you have under your arm?" 
"Yes, sir." Lamar laid them out on a coffee table. "I have all three official returns here." 
The man with the owlish look stepped in to study the figures, and his mind began to click. The Attorney General of The State of Alabama, Si Garrett, was not one to waste time thinking to himself and in a flow of words, drawing documents from his ever-present briefcase, he began to unfold a scheme that widened the eyes of his visitor. The Attorney General was a good lawyer. He won his case with Reid. 
He should have been less persuasive. The chain of fraud being forged about the state had added its weakest link. Within seven days the structure began to creak and moan. 
As the first damage appeared, a crew of appraisers hastened in to determine the extent. What they discovered amazed them. One of the most thrilling cops and robbers chases in the history of Alabama was ready to unfold. Before the pursuit was finished, the Governor of the state, Gordon Persons, was to hear from irate demands that his office take decisive action in Phenix City. 
The "appraisers" were the eighteen members of the Jefferson County Grand Jury, then in session under the foremanship of George Samuel Willcox, Jr., district sales manager for Pure Oil Company. 
Directing the Jury's meetings were Circuit Solicitor Emmett Perry, who already had a reputation as a fearless, fighting public official, and his chief assistant, Deputy Solicitor Willard McCall, a rough and ready courtroom lawyer. As the Jury went further into the series of events, another man was called in to lend a hand. He was Private Investigator Fred J. Bodeker, of the Bodeker National Detective Agency in Birmingham, one of the best known and most capable private eyes in the Southeast. 
This combination of fighters for justice began from scratch. 
On June 8, first intimation that someone had tampered with the official figures in the Jefferson County returns between Patterson and Porter came to light. An anonymous tipster advised Leroy Simms, chief of the Alabama Bureau of the Associated Press, and one of the authors that Porter's official Jefferson County total had been upped from 23,060 to 23,660, an increase of six hundred. The newsmen verified the information and wrote stones for their respective organizations. 
Birmingham Attorney Albert A. Rosenthal, one of Patterson's foremost supporters, also was informed of the change and blew a fuse. He asked for and received an almost immediate hearing before the Grand jury, giving that group its first report of the vote steal. 
The Grand Jury was almost ready to adjourn, but here was something new and important. It was extremely difficult for them to believe that anyone actually would change votes on official tabulation sheets or that even one vote could be stolen, much less six hundred. But the accusation was made and it clearly was up to the Jury to learn whether there was justification for the claim. The Grand Jury began summoning witnesses: officials who worked at the boxes on election day; members of the county committee who had made the official count; newsmen who were looking into the matter and many others. 
Jurors learned promptly that the alteration had, indeed, taken place. Now their task took on direction. The problem was who had done the changing and when had the falsification occurred. 
At this point the jurors considered it wise to consult with Reid, the county chairman. The twenty-eight-year-old lawyer was the head of the county Democratic machinery and should be able to throw much light on the situation. As chairman, he would or should know where the three official tabulations returns had been from June 3 until one finally reached State Committee Chairman Ben F. Ray a week later. 
By this time, however, Reid was on his vacation in Panama City. His brother-in-law and business associate, Bruce White, was keeping an eye on things and was advising Reid about what was taking place in Birmingham. 
The pressure became too great. Reid couldn't afford any longer to ignore the Jury action and on June 14 he returned home voluntarily and went before the inquisitorial body. Once again the jurors were amazed, this time by the story that Reid related to them. 
Reid said that on June 4, Attorney General Garrett and Solicitor Arch B. Ferrell of Russell County had telephoned him at his office, saying they wished to speak with him. Shortly they appeared and asked to see the official returns from Jefferson County. Reid produced the three copies of the certificates. While Reid was discussing results with Garrett and Ferrell, a call came from a garage, telling him that his car, which he had left to be serviced in preparation for his vacation, was being returned. He was asked to give the driver a lift back to the garage. 
Reid excused himself, leaving the documents with his guests. After all, they were public officials, one of them holding the exalted title of Attorney General. When Reid came back in about twenty minutes, the two gentlemen were in his office still but in a short while they thanked him and departed. Reid hastily put his office into "leave alone" shape for two weeks, completed a dab of paper work, departed, leaving the three official papers on top of his desk. He did not think of them again until he had arrived in Panama City at which time he long-distanced White to see that the proper distribution was made of the documents: one to the state chairman, one to the Sheriff's office; one to be kept by Reid. Reid's opinion, expressed to the jurors, was that any changes which had been made on the three sheets took place during the time he left Garrett and Ferrell alone in his office. 
The conclusion appeared a reasonable one. Garrett and Ferrell were familiar with the procedure of election returns. Then, too, it seemed admirable of Reid to be so forthright in his exposure of them even though he might face disapproval of the jurors on a charge of carelessness. 
Reid was even further accommodating. He revealed that on the night of June 11, he and Bruce White had met Garrett at the Albert Hotel in Selma. His purpose, he said, was to ask Garrett what had happened to the returns while Garrett and Ferrell were alone in Reid's office. Garrett, to what Reid said, was his great surprise, admitted that he and Ferrell had doctored the official figures, but he tried to put Reid at ease, assuring him that everything would be all right. He talked at length about his powers as Attorney General and pointed out that he could supersede Circuit Solicitor Perry before the jury if matters became too uncomfortable. 
With Reid back in town, members of the election committee of the County Democratic Executive Committee called a meeting on June 16 and invited Solicitor Perry to join them. They were disturbed by the fraud and thrashed the puzzle out among themselves for several hours. 
They knew, of course, that Reid had testified before the Grand Jury, but they knew nothing of his visit to Selma nor the details of his Testimony and Solicitor Perry was bound by law not to reveal what Reid had described. 
The committee decided to issue a public statement, which said in part: 
"The alteration of the figures was unknown to the members of the committee or the chairman, secretary, or clerk thereof, at the time of certifying the results thereof to the State Democratic Executive Committee, and it is the conclusion of this committee that said alteration was made by a party or parties unknown." 
Members of this group besides Reid himself, consisted of H. A. (Gus) Thompson, the clerk, and Earle J. Ellis, William C. Brannon, H. A. Bowron, Chief Deputy Sheriff Clyde Morris of Bessemer, and Sidney Smyer Jr., the latter being a relative of Reid's by marriage. 
Perry, unable to tell what he knew, was startled by the committee decision and warned members they would live to regret such action, 
"Lamar Reid," Perry said, "had all three official tally sheets in his possession. Each of you say the results were changed. I say that Reid either changed them or knows who changed them. He's either the dumbest man in the world or a crook.''
 While ignoring Perry's advice, the committee followed his suggestion that Private Detective Bodeker be employed to conduct a thorough investigation. Mr. Thompson had been trying to do that for three days but Bodeker had been out of town. 
From this meeting, Solicitor Perry went to his office on the sixth floor of the Courthouse. Reid went with him. Perry, succeeded in reaching Bodeker at the latter's office. The solicitor traced events tip to the moment and told the detective it was important to the success of the Grand Jury's investigation that the real facts of the meetings in Selma between Garrett, Reid, and White be uncovered. Reid took the telephone and assured Bodeker that his services were needed, As chairman of the county committee, Reid added, he had authority to hire Bodeker for the committee and was authorized to pay him $1,500. 
The fee was considerably lower than Bodeker ordinarily received but, evaluating the importance of the case along with the fact that the committee was not wealthy, Bodeker took the assignment on the basis stipulated. He left Birmingham that afternoon, Reid and White accompanying him, to ascertain what had transpired at the Albert Hotel in Selma. Reid talked to Bodeker at length during the ninety mile trip. He said he had come from Florida, Garrett from Oak Hill, Alabama, and White from Birmingham, to hold the powwow in Selma. As a lawyer, Reid explained, he could visualize that unless Garrett would substantiate his story about how the vote change was accomplished, he, Reid, would be in serious trouble. 
To Bodeker, as he had to the Grand Jury, Reid explained that Garrett had tried to impress him with the fact there was no cause for worry. 
"You're just a young fellow," he quoted Garrett as saying, "This vote thing comes up all the time. If necessary, I'll send Perry up to North Alabama on a five dollar cow stealing case, and take his place before the Grand Jury myself. By that, time, it'll all blow over. You've got nothing to worry about.". 
The hotel visit proved that Reid, White and Garrett all had been there on June 11, but there was one important addition. Reid had registered under the name 'Frank Long," He said Garrett had suggested it. The real Frank Long, a young lawyer just out of the University of Alabama School of Law was living in Jasper, but traveling the entire state for his knight in shining armor— Jim Folsom. Long then was president of the Alabama League of Young Democrats and was in the midst of purging chapters which were not solidly behind his idol. "Frank Long" was a name that was to appear repeatedly. It was used by Garrett as a pass word, as a ready means of knowing that a close associate wanted to get in touch with him on a matter of importance. 
Returning to Birmingham, Bodeker carried the same conviction that had smote the jurors; that Reid was telling the truth throughout. Bodeker relayed his findings to Perry who subpoenaed the Selma hotel employees to tell their stories to the Grand Jury. Free to reflect upon the situation at large, Bodeker theorized that if Garrett and Ferrell had telephoned Reid before visiting at his office on June 4, they may have been in town overnight or during the day. His next step, to test the logic of that thought, was to canvass Birmingham hotels, and right here the puzzle began to take on shape. A strange pattern emerged. 
Bodeker discovered that at the Molton Hotel on June 4 at 1:01 P.M., "Frank Long and Party" had registered in rooms 802 and 804. The "party" was Si Garrett. Frank Long, in this particular instance, was the real Frank Long. The trailing candidate for Attorney General, Lee Porter, had signed in at the Thomas Jefferson Hotel, with his wife, at 1:18 P.M, In a fourth hotel, the Bankhead, thirty-four-year-old state senator-elect, Neil Metcalf, had registered at 3 P.M, with Solicitor Ferrell. 
The converging arrival of these individuals could, of course, have been nothing more than coincidence. If that was so, however, it was yet more coincidental that none of them had registered at the Redmont Hotel, where Garrett generally was given the Governor's Suite, and where both Ferrell and Porter often had stayed in times past. 
Now began a check of telephone calls made from the rooms of the newcomers. These revealed another presumably interlocking arrangement, in that they had telephoned back and forth among themselves. Equally important was the disclosure that several of them had been in touch with Reid, both at his home and at his office. The crack in the organization widened a bit, for Reid insisted he had heard from Garrett and Ferrell only once by phone on that day of June 4. 
There was more to come. Bodeker learned at the Molton that about 4 P.M. that same afternoon someone from room 802 had sent to the lobby for an adding machine. Then came the information that Reid had visited the hotel not only on June 4 but again the following day. By this time it was obvious that Reid's original yarn to the grand jury was as full of holes as a sieve. 
The Grand Jury had not been idle while Bodeker carried on his phase of the probe. From witnesses it gathered constantly more data and supplied Bodeker with new leads. The Jury also had been in contact with Garrett and made arrangements for him to appear as a voluntary witness on the morning of June 18. 
Garrett was fully cognizant of the testimony which Reid had given the jurors and came prepared to dispel the clouds of doubt which were settling about his mantle. Walking boldly into Solicitor Perry's office, he loudly proclaimed his purpose in being present was to clear his name of insinuations. His testimony, he emphasized, was voluntary and he planned lo prove his innocence by documents in every important detail. The fact that a Birmingham newspaper that morning had reported that two unnamed out-of-county officials had changed the vote did not upset Garrett in the least. He said he found no fault with the account. 
Garrett pounded into the Grand Jury room like a lion after a fawn and the door shut behind him for what turned out to be an all day session. 
Garrett is a marathon talker. He goes into minute explanations over non-essentials. He jumps from subject to subject like corn popping in a hot pan. He is obsessed with the pronoun "I" and before he finished his testimony at 5 P.M., the jurors were worn to a frazzle. The first idea Garrett attempted to get across was that he had authority to discharge the Grand Jury or to remove Solicitor Perry. He cited the example of a former Attorney General who had done just that in Mobile. He read from law books. In short, he tried to convince the jurors that he was an important man. He did not succeed. 
"Do you," asked Solicitor Perry, "plan to remove me or discharge this jury?" 
"Oh, no," Garrett said. 
Garrett was of little if any help to the Grand Jury. About the only item which proved of some benefit was his statement that Reid had long-distanced him from Panama City to Oak Hill the week after June 4. Reid had called in the name of "Frank Long." 
Never one to keep all of his plans a secret, Garrett volunteered the information that when he finished before the jurors he was going back to his home in Montgomery. The day being done at the Courthouse, Deputy Solicitor McCall dropped Garrett off at the Redmont Hotel. Going up to the desk clerk, Garrett asked for his key and for any messages and told the clerk he was ready to leave. 
Bodeker, who was sitting in a chair in the lobby, overheard this remark. It was perhaps an unfortunate occurrence that he did so. Bodeker's intention had been to rent the room next to Garrett's for the night, having learned that it was vacant. Hearing Garrett's remark, Bodeker changed his mind and in a few minutes left the hotel for home, Garrett did not. 
He met Frank Long who was with some friends. Disliking to be alone at any time, the Attorney General invited Long, Long's friends and their wives to be his guests for dinner in the Governor's Suite. The invitation was accepted, the crowd gathered, dinner was ordered, and drinks began to flow. Garrett avoided the hard liquor but consumed quarts of sparkling water. He has been known to drink six quarts in the course of an evening. Fun and joviality were the watchwords as the party progressed under the benevolent auspices of the Attorney General. 
While festivities continued in Birmingham, at 7:49 P.M., a party in Phenix City— where it was an hour later— tried to reach Garrett at his home in Montgomery. The party calling said he was using Telephone Number 8-6028, the office phone of Solicitor Ferrell. The transaction consumed three minutes. 
At 7:53 P.M. someone using the same Phenix City telephone contacted the Redmont Hotel and asked for Frank Long. This conversation lasted four minutes, and Long later said the caller was Solicitor Ferrell. 
Again at 8:01 P.M. an incoming Phenix City long distance caller asked for room 720, the Governor's Suite, at the Redmont, and this time the proceeding required thirteen minutes. Long claimed that this, too, was Ferrell and that Ferrell talked with Garrett. 
When the conversation was completed, Albert Patterson was dead. 
Telephone lines around the state began to hum. Neil Metcalf, at Geneva 198, contacted Long at 8:50 P.M. in a conversation requiring thirteen minutes. At 9:30 P.M., Long telephoned a Montgomery number and asked to speak with Representative-elect T. K. Selman of Jasper. Following a two minute chat. Long next reached Garrett's home and asked for Selman again and this time the chit-chat required twenty-five minutes. At 10:07, Metcalf in Geneva called Ferrell at 8-7377 in Phenix City. At 10:15, Garrett telephoned Ferrell at the same number. At 10:44, Long was back in touch with Metcalf at Geneva 177J. 
These weren't the only calls made from or to the Governor's Suite that night. Contact was established with Tuscaloosa, Mobile, Auburn and other cities, 
Garrett's hotel bill for the one night stand came to slightly more than $180. The next day, instead of going home, he went to Phenix City. This was properly in keeping with his status as chief law enforcement officer of Alabama. 
On Monday, June 21, Perry and Bodeker conferred with office. They reviewed their findings up to that time and agreed that Reid had been less than truthful with them. A telephone call to Reid resulted in a meeting between him and Bodeker in the detective's offices at the Frank Nelson Building. Bodeker informed Reid that the Grand Jury was now convinced he had lied in his previous appearances. Reid denied the allegation. 
"Lamar," Bodeker said, "I know you haven't told me the truth and I'll tell you why I know you haven't. You told me, and the Grand Jury, that the only time you saw Si Garrett and Arch Ferrell on June 4 was in your office. You know that you went to the Molton Hotel and went to rooms 802 and 804 and that you took the official tabulation sheets with you. You were also in the same hotel room with Garrett, Ferrell and others on Saturday, June 5." 
For the first rime, Reid lost his composure. "How'd you find that out?" he asked in amazement, dropping his shield of innocence. 
"That's my job," Bodeker said. 
"Well, Mr. Bodeker," Reid said, "it looks like you've got the dope on me. This thing's nearly run me crazy." 
Bodeker told Reid that, as an attorney, of course he knew his rights, but a full statement of the facts would be welcomed. Reid said he realized he had made a fool of himself and agreed to tell the whole story. 
Thus was reached the turning point in the life of a young man who had taken the wrong road at a critical moment in his existence. Reid had been raised by an uncle who had placed full confidence in him and worshiped him as a son. He had married into one of Birmingham's most respected families, had been given an office in the family's law firm, and through the guidance of an uncle-by-marriage had achieved chairmanship of the County Democratic Committee. He was financially secure, prominent socially, and promising politically Within a few weeks, he was ruined socially, and finished politically. 
With Reid's admission, Bodeker was curious about one item. 
"Why'd you hire me to conduct this investigation when you knew you'd helped to steal the votes?" he asked. 
"To tell you the truth, Mr. Bodeker," Reid said, "I didn't think you'd be able to find out about it.''
 Bodeker and Reid made an appointment to meet Perry at the latter's home, where the detective informed the solicitor that Reid was ready to sign a confession. 
"Is that right, Lamar?" Perry inquired. 
"Yes, sir." 
"Do you want any lawyers here?" 
Lamar called his brother-in-law, White. "Bruce," he said, "I'm over at Judge Perry's house. The jig's up. Come on over here.'* 
Perry called the Grand jury shorthand reporter, J. W. Dickinson, to hurry to his house with pad and pencil. When all the parties were assembled, Reid made a complete statement which, when typed, came to sixty-eight pages. 
"Don't sign it,*' Perry advised when the bill of particulars was ready, '*until you show it to your lawyer. You've told one lie about this thing. Let's make sure this one's correct." 
When Reid returned with the confession signed, he went before the Grand Jury once more. 
"I've been to see my minister," he said. "I've told my family. I've made peace with the man upstairs. I didn't know I was dumb, but I must have been the dumbest man in the world." 
The ordeal had taken its physical toll of Reid. He was drawn, haggard. 
"What'd they offer you to change those votes?" a Grand Juror wanted to know.
"Well"— Reid smiled painfully. "I wouldn't expect you to believe this, but I'm going to tell you the truth. Garrett and Ferrell convinced me I was doing a great service for the state. I can laugh about it now. It's the first time I've been able to laugh in a long time, but they actually convinced me that Mr. Patterson was head of the gamblers in Phenix City. I thought two wrongs would make a right. I thought by making the change it would be the right way to get rid of the Phenix City gangsters." 
With Reid's assistance from this point, investigators were better able to unravel the mystery of the vote change. Piece after piece of the jigsaw fell into pattern. This was no amateurish attempt by two or three misguided individuals to alter an election. It was a vote steal on the grand scale, reaching from the little man to the big, to all parts of the state. 
Early on the morning of June 4, Garrett's secretary in Montgomery called Reid's office in Birmingham to say that the Attorney General was on the way to see him. Garrett telephoned Reid between 1 and 2 P.M. and asked Reid to come to room 802 at the Molton, and to bring the official county election returns with him. Upon Reid's arrival, he was greeted by Garrett and later by Ferrell, and before he departed sometime later, Lee Porter and Frank Long. It is likely that Long was not familiar with what was taking place. 
In another room asleep and not in on the change was Senator Metcalf. It was Metcalf who earlier had sent for the adding machine. And it was he who ran the tally of results in the Attorney General's race in Jefferson County. 
Garrett was a rambler and was at his rambling best, 
"I got up from a sick bed," he declared, "to win this race for Porter. I conducted a master campaign for him, a master campaign. I pulled him up from a deficit of 70,000 votes. That's a helluva lot of votes, young fellow, and I don't intend to lose now," 
He reached into his briefcase and fished out a sheaf of papers. 
"Patterson's crowd's stolen the election, Lamar. We've got to steal it back," Garrett continued. "That Patterson's the biggest crook to ever walk the face of this state. Why, can you imagine what it'd be like with him as Attorney General? That Phenix City crowd'd be walkin' in and out of his office carrying bags of money out in the open. Out in the open, you understand? Look at this," he ordered, opening some of the papers from his briefcase. 
The records showed quite truthfully that Patterson at one time had represented some Phenix City gamblers in court cases. There were other papers indicating that Porter was a fine, upstanding man whose past life was exemplary. 
"We've got to get this election," Garrett said to Reid, "Is there some way you can make an error of 2,000 votes so it'll give the election to Porter?" 
Unofficial returns, complete from all counties, had Patterson in front by some 1,400 votes. A heavy alteration of 2,000 votes in one county would reverse the picture entirely and, since each candidate had been talking publicly of contesting the election if he lost, the burden of bringing the contest would fall on Patterson rather than Porter. 
Reid was coy. Two thousand votes was a big change. It would be detected. But Reid was vulnerable now and it became opportune for Garrett to throw in his clinchers, to convince Reid of his importance and show him the weight Garrett carried all around the state. 
Garrett led off with a story of how he could have been appointed to the State Supreme Court the previous year when a vacancy existed. The Governor was ready to name him to the post but Garrett rejected the idea. Instead, he submitted to Governor Persons the names of five individuals whom he thought qualified and recommended that the Governor choose one of these men. Persons, he said, selected State Senator Preston Clayton although Garrett contended that Clayton was the weakest possible appointment on the list. The first time Clayton ran for the office he was defeated. 
Garrett's story was true in part. The Governor was prepared to do Garrett a favor by naming him to the high tribunal but a justice of the State Supreme Court intervened. The judge wrote Garrett's father, Coma Garrett, requesting him to persuade the Governor that the appointment of Si would be a mistake. Coma Garrett fulfilled the request 
Garrett's arguments were imposing and to lend weight to his position he periodically made long distance telephone calls while in conversation with Reid. 
One such call went to E. C. (Bud) Boswell in Geneva County. By one of those truth-is-stranger-than-fiction coincidences, a representative from Patterson's office entered the Geneva County Courthouse just as Boswell hung up the telephone after talking with Garrett. The Patterson man, Albert (Hawk) Howard, had come to find out why Geneva was so slow in reporting election returns. Boswell did not see Howard, as he hung up the phone and turned to members of the County Democratic Committee, 
"I've just talked to Si," said Boswell. "He said to take ten or fifteen from every box and that probably still won't be enough." 
Boswell then noticed Howard behind him and quickly changed the subject, 
In the hotel room, Garrett had won Reid over but could get him to agree to a change of only 600 votes rather than 2,000. Ferrell agreed that 2,000 was too many to risk, that it would not be "smooth" to make the alteration so blatantly. 
Reid took his leave, departing without any of the three official copies of the election returns he had brought to the hotel. Reid returned the next day, was shown where the additions had been made in a dozen boxes to increase Porter's votes, exchanged pleasantries with his fellow conspirators, and walked confidently back to the Title Guarantee Building to prepare for his vacation. 
With these facts laid out accurately before them, members of the Grand Jury were primed for Garrett upon his next appearance on June 23. Garrett had spent the week end in Phenix City, talking much, entertaining, going long hours, but from all visible signs he had accomplished nothing toward solving the Patterson murder. 
Garrett, testifying again, recalled that he received quite a few telephone calls from Reid in Panama City. Everyone of them, he said, had been placed in the name "Frank Long," but jurors were more interested now in Garrett's connections with the murder investigation and vote change. 
"Did you," asked a juror, "receive a call from Mr. Ferrell about Patterson's death?" 
"No, sir." 
"You got no telephone call?" 
"Not from Mr. Ferrell about his death." 
"At the time that you all were in the Molton Hotel there in the room on Friday afternoon, June 4," someone inquired, changing the subject, "I'll ask you to state whether or not you had an adding machine up in that room that afternoon?" 
"We did get an adding machine up there. It was never in the room Mr. Reid was in while I was there."
A juror inquired whether Garrett's "henchmen" were in the room with him. 
"I prefer," said Garrett, "that you not refer to them as henchmen." 
"Co-workers or anything you want to call them," the juror apologized. "I withdraw the word henchmen." 
"It's all right for you to use it if you want to," Garrett said, "but to me it's offensive." 
For ten and one-half hours Garrett remained with the jurors. He declared, upon being released as a witness, that he was leaving the state to rest up from the "ordeal" of the Patterson murder. Six days later, on June 29, his family labeled Si a "very sick man mentally" and said he was in a hospital in Galveston, Texas. 
The very next day, on June 30, the Grand Jury returned indictments charging vote fraud against Reid, Garrett, and Ferrell. In a few weeks Garrett returned to Alabama to accept service of the indictment. Solicitor Perry filed insanity proceedings against him. Garrett, while driving in Mississippi with his children, ran off the road and broke his neck. The injury was not fatal but kept him confined for weeks. 
(Ferrell, before going to trial on the charge, put out a feeler through his attorney to plead guilty and accept a fine. The state refused, hoping to make him serve time in jail. A twelve-man jury, however, acquitted Ferrell. Reid was found guilty later and sentenced to six months as well as being fined $500. The case is on appeal at this writing. Garrett has not been brought to trial.) 
Jurors took a recess but upon their return invited the two top probers in the Patterson murder investigation to visit Birmingham and swap information. It was the jurors' belief that if the murder was tied into politics, as it seemed to be, a discussion of all the facts would be mutually beneficial. Accepting the invitation were Bernard F. Sykes, who had succeeded Garrett as Acting Attorney General while Garrett was away and MacDonald Gallion, Montgomery lawyer. Gallion, who had finished third in the May 4 primary election for Attorney General, had supported Patterson in the runoff. It was Gallion whom Governor Persons sent to Phenix City as his special counsel in the murder probe, and it was to the Governor that Gallion reported. 
The appearance of these two leaders did not instill the jurors with confidence. Gallion made a good personal impression but jurors were unable to learn exactly what he was supposed to be doing in Phenix City. Even Gallion didn't seem to know. 
Sykes was even worse. He seemed to the jurors a junior grade Si Garrett in his egotistical summation of his findings. He appeared to be in water over his head and jurors were perturbed by the inescapable conclusion that, Phenix City public officials being held now in disrepute, the community still had no proper law enforcement even with Sykes present in the city. 
This firmed up their belief that martial rule should be declared to restore law and order to a lawless county. Governor Persons was showing no signs of moving in that direction, however. Perhaps it was time for the jury to prod him. Perry forthwith dispatched a letter to the Governor inviting him to appear voluntarily as a witness. The Governor promptly relied that he was not trying to dodge, but he knew nothing about the vote steal nor had he any other information which would be of assistance to the Grand Jury. Jurors were not pleased with the answer. They had gone this far. They already had tracked down three public officials who they believed had exhibited irresponsibility to the rights of citizens and, Governor or no Governor, the jurors wanted to decide personally whether Persons knew anything of importance in the current situation. 
So resolved, jurors instructed Perry to telephone the Governor at once. Perry brought the telephone in from his office to the Grand jury room and there put in a person-to-person call to Governor Persons. Again the Governor demurred, insisting he could do the inquisitors no good. 
"Let me have that phone," said Jury Foreman Willcox, taking it from Perry. 
"Governor," he said, "we don't know whether we have the power to subpoena a Governor and we don't wish to do anything to embarrass you, but it'd be to your interest to come here. If you refuse, we're going to subpoena you.*' 
Three hours later the Governor of Alabama had made the one hundred mile trip from Montgomery and was knocking on the door to the Grand Jury room in Birmingham. 
It was soon apparent that Governor Persons knew nothing of the vote fraud particulars. Jurors turned to other matters which had been worrying them. Why, for example, hadn't the governor taken steps to remove Garrett? Why hadn't he declared martial law in Phenix City as an aid to the murder investigation? 
"I'm no lawyer, gentlemen. I'm an engineer," Persons said in reply to the first question. "My lawyers have advised me that I can't remove Mr. Garrett." 
Whereupon Section 136 of the State Constitution was read to the Governor in which provision is made that if the Attorney General becomes mentally incapacitated, the Governor shall replace him and report that fact to the State Supreme Court which shall make a determination as to the man's sanity. 
"Silas is a resourceful individual," Governor Persons insisted, "If I started something like that, he'd come back to the state in a minute. Let's leave him alone and he'll stay away," 
On the question of martial rule, Persons again said he was an engineer and his attorneys had told him he could not declare martial law. Again jurors read the law to him. It proclaimed that the Governor could use force to repel force but only such force as was necessary. Martial rule could be employed in aid of civilian authority, or to replace civilian authority if needed to restore order. 
The topics were batted back and forth. Shortly before the Governor wound up his appearance, Foreman Willcox let him in on a secret. He said the Grand Jury planned to issue a report in a few days. Unless Governor Persons took positive action in the meantime, the findings might be highly critical of him. Jurors, Willcox explained, felt it was strictly the responsibility of the Governor to make certain Russell County had proper law enforcement. 
"You'll just have to make the report," Persons said. "All public officials get criticized. I'm no exception." 
He made no promises. The very next day, however, the Birmingham Post-Herald carried a front page "Open Letter to the Governor," urging that he use the full powers of his office to help solve the murder. The Governor got in touch with the paper's editor, James E. Mills. He was, Persons said, planning to take military action in Russell County, but he was unhappy over the open letter because he believed a member of the Post-Herald's staff had learned of his intentions and was trying to pave the way for the paper to take credit for the action. Mills assured him this was not true. 
Later that day of July 16 the Grand Jury recessed to wait and see what the Governor was going to do, if anything. Apparently in between his testimony of July 15 and the recess of July 16, Persons made up his mind. 
He must have been aware of the mood of the Grand Jury, and he did not care to risk further adverse publicity. The entire responsibility for the vote fraud, the murder investigation, and conditions in Phenix City would have been laid flatly at his feet. 
On July 22, he declared a state of qualified martial law for Russell County. 
The Grand Jury reconvened on August 2 with Governor-Nominate James E. Folsom as a witness. His testimony was of no help and he was not yet in a position of official authority in which he could have been held accountable for aiding in the hunt. 
Jurors were weary. They had been detained two months longer than they had anticipated and some of their employers needed them back on the job, but they had one final phase to enter before adjourning. In top secret manner they had brought Lee Porter to their quarters and he had admitted receiving some $25,000 from Phenix City gamblers for use in his campaign, it remained for the jurors to give the gamblers a chance to have their say about this support, for if they denied making contributions they could be indicted for perjury. 
Subpoenas were delivered for Hoyt Shepherd, Jimmy Matthews, Godwin Davis, Sr., Godwin Davis, Jr. and other brass hats among the gamblers. They arrived in Birmingham the night prior to their scheduled appearances before the Grand Jury and visited a Birmingham attorney for advice on what they should do. The gamblers had an ace up their sleeve, which was nothing unusual for them. They knew that Porter had testified and Davis Sr. had requested, and obtained, from Porter much of the data he gave the jurors. The Birmingham lawyer informed the underworld personages of their rights and called to their attention the fifth Amendment to the United States Constitution which specifics that an individual need not give testimony which may be self-incriminating. 
Pudgy, cigar-smoking, Godwin Davis, Sr., owner of the Manhattan Club, was the first gambler called into the jury room. He refused to answer questions about financial matters. Jurors assured him he would not be indicted for merely contributing to Porter's campaign, bur Davis would not reverse his position. 
Circuit Judge Alta King was in his courtroom and the jury hauled Davis before him. The jurist warned Davis that his failure to answer would lead to a contempt of court charge. Davis, Judge King said, would go to jail and stay there until he did reply. That helped Davis make up his mind and he substantiated Porter's testimony that about $25,000 had gone into the Porter campaign from Phenix City. 
"What'd you fellows give that $25,000 to Porter for?" a reporter asked Davis later. 
"What'd you ask a silly question like that for?" Davis shot back in reply. 
On August 4, the Grand Jury made its final report and adjourned. Besides Foreman Willcox, the other members were William Hinton Wise, Cecil Lewis Traywick, Ross R. Reid, James T. Quails, Rush Huey Parsons, Royce D. Northcutt, George L. McNeal, John B. Jolly, Robert C. Johnston, Charles Oscar Hester, Morris L. Hawkins, James Belton Harkins Jr., William C Gullahorn, Charles Hoyt Ellis, Archie John Dailey Jr., Gourley F. Crawford, and John Knox Adams. 
The jury and Bodeker had dug up and put together the picture of statewide deceit. In the chapter entitled "Background for Fraud," are included other matters this group of men uncovered. Bodeker's fee of $1,500 eventually was paid not by the committee which had hired him, but by Reid and Reid's uncle-in-law, Sidney W. Smyer, Birmingham, each of whom put up $1750. 
The importance of the discoveries by Perry, Bodeker and the jurors cannot be underestimated. Nor can one other fact: If the machine had stolen only 1,500 more votes. Porter would have been in front of Patterson and probably would have been upheld in any vote contest. Porter— under indictment in Montgomery for falsifying election donations— would now be Attorney General of Alabama. Si Garrett— in a Texas mental institution— would be an assistant. Albert Patterson probably would not have been killed and the story of Phenix City would remain concealed as Alabama's fountainhead of fraud, fakery and fornication.