Praise for
THE LAST SHERIFF IN TEXAS
An Amazon Best History Book of the Month
“Intensely researched, passionately written and dense with meaning, both for its examination of our history and its tacit meditation on what that means today . . . As a story about violence, policing, elections and society, McCollom’s book is immediate. As a reflection on Texan myth and reality, it is timeless . . . McCollom has earned his place in the canon with a tale that’s part true-crime, part sociological nonfiction, and part national epic.”
—Texas Observer
“A riveting story of a time when sheriffs could get away with murder.”
—The Dallas Morning News
“A narrative with resonance well beyond seekers of Texas history. The Last Sheriff in Texas would be an amazing allegory for our times, were it fiction. Instead it suggests cultural trenches that we view as new that were dug decades ago.”
—Houston Chronicle
“A true-crime story centering on a South Texas lawman who became a law unto himself . . . Of interest to students of Texas history as well as aspiring law enforcement officers, who should read it as an example of how not to conduct themselves.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“With a cover that’s half sepia and half the black-and-blue of storm clouds and bruises, the design of The Last Sheriff in Texas echoes McCollom’s style, a hybrid of old-timers sitting on the front porch telling tales and true crime. The book is consistently entertaining and a valuable chapter of South Texas history, the patron system of vote fraud (think box thirteen and LBJ), and the nascent struggle for Mexican American civil rights . . . McCollom skillfully conveys the personalities of his large cast of fascinating characters. He conjures a visceral sense of foreboding as the election approaches, and evokes the time and place with rich detail and personal experience . . . The Last Sheriff in Texas takes place in the middle of the last century and remains sadly relevant today.”
—Lone Star Literary Life
For Cristina and Silvia and Susana, the muses
The Last Sheriff in Texas
Copyright © 2017 by James P. McCollom
First hardcover edition: 2017
First paperback edition: 2018
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
The Library of Congress has catalogued the hardcover as follows:
Names: McCollom, James P., author.
Title: The last sheriff in Texas : a true tale of violence and the vote / James McCollom.
Description: Berkeley, CA : Counterpoint Press, [2017]
Identifiers: LCCN 2017024770 | ISBN 9781619029965
Subjects: LCSH: Ennis, Vail. | Sheriffs-Texas-Beeville-Case studies. | Police misconduct-Texas-Beeville-Case studies. | Elections-Texas-Beeville-Case studies. | Beeville (Tex.)-Social conditions-20th century. | Beeville (Tex.)-Politics and government-20th century. | Beeville (Tex.)-History-20th century.
Classification: LCC F391.4.V35 M33 2017 | DDC 976.4/117-dc23
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-64009-126-9
Cover design by Jarrod TaylorBook design by Tabitha Lahr
COUNTERPOINT
2560 Ninth Street, Suite 318
Berkeley, CA 94710
Printed in the United States of America
Distributed by Publishers Group West
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Author’s Note
Much of the background of this book—landmarks, weather, customs—is memoir, based on my childhood in Beeville, a time when Sheriff Vail Ennis was a controversial figure among adults and a hero figure—a fearsome one—for adolescents.
The book’s main narrative is based on conversations with people who were adults at the time. I met Johnny Barnhart only after I returned to Texas soon after 2000. He contacted me and said he wanted to talk about the 1952 campaign. He later introduced me to Adam Gonzales, Andy Salazar Gonzales, and Elias Chapa. I got to know L. D. (Laurie) Hunter, Vail’s close friend and hunting partner, who became a principal source of insights into the sheriff’s character. The tape of Houston Pruett’s account of the Pettus shooting was an unexpected gift, much appreciated, from John Brockman, former president of Coastal Bend College. Glenn Krueger, Dickie Rudeloff, Wendell Baker, Fred Chesnutt, and others had invaluable insights, all helping to sort a true story from the many legends about the county’s hell-bent sheriff. I am grateful to all of them. Much of the material on Camp Ezell is also memoir. He was my first editor: When I was fifteen, I got a job writing sports for the Bee-Picayune. I loved Camp, and I loved his style.
As to style, there could be no greater difference than the ways of Vail Ennis and those of the county’s sheriff between 1924 and 1932. Sheriff John Eugene McCollom kept the peace during the angst-filled period of Prohibition and the KKK while—it was said—never firing his gun. I regret that I didn’t interview my grandfather for this book, but he died long before I had questions.
1
The man who shot the sheriff was Roy Hines, thirty-four, ex-con, a grifter on his way from Oklahoma to Mexico. The surviving eyewitness, Houston Pruett, the Magnolia station manager, gave the following account.
It was a green Mercury station wagon drove up in front of the station. There was three men in front and a woman and two babies in the back. While I was cleanin his windshield he said would you put me in about two dollars worth of gas? Yes, sir. So I put the two dollars worth of gas in . . . None of em got out. So I went around and said Sir would you like for me to check your hood? He said, please. So I raised the hood and put my head under the hood, you know, fixin to check the oil. And Vail Ennis came from Beeville. You know, he was always stoppin to ask where so and so was . . . if I’d seen so and so. Stop by and get a Coke. He was a good friend of mine. But he pulled up right by the side of me. When I was puttin the dipstick back in, I heard him say: Did you fellers catch a ride with this man? One of em said yes. He said get out, you’re under arrest. The one on the outside was Pittman, the smaller feller. He got out. By that time I’d put the hood down and was watchin em, wonderin what was goin on. The man handed me two one dollar bills. And Vail searched this Pittman real good. Head to feet. Turned around to the big man . . . He wadn’t as big as I am but he was a bigger man than the first one. He said, I told you to get out, you’re under arrest. Vail got his handcuffs and handcuffed the little one and the big one reached him his right arm. I didn’t notice that then until after the shooting. He was left handed. He handcuffed em together and he said to me, Houston, go in there and call Harper Morris. Tell him I’ve got the two men he wanted. Vail follered me in there, right on in there, and them guys follered us in there till they got there to that opening, about four foot over there. He turned around to em and said you boys wait right there, that’s far enough. Just as nice as he could be. I picked up the phone and called Harper Morris and just about the time I was givin the phone to Vail I seen this big one come out with that gun. He told Vail, I said drop that receiver. And drop that gun. And Vail whirled around. And said, wait a minute and pulled his six shooter. But the man emptied his gun in him