Prime Crime: Solved Murders - Wilson Turner Pt. 1

Episode Date: March 17, 2021

On April 20, 1948, residents of rural Coweta County, Georgia, saw a man named Wilson Turner get chased down and beaten in the middle of a campground parking lot. As his attacker hauled him away, witnesses were sure they recognized the man who beat him… but they weren't convinced the legal system could do anything to stop him. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Due to the graphic nature of this murder case, listener discretion is advised. This episode includes graphic descriptions of racist language and violence, as well as dramatizations and discussions of murder and assault, that some people may find offensive. We advise extreme caution for children under 13. On the surface, Meriwether County, Georgia wasn't much to look at. It was like many other regions of the American South of the 1940s, a single strip of businesses surrounded by woods and large tracks of farmland.

In the summer, the hot breath of the humid air was hard to shake. It clung to the clothes of the sharecroppers working in the fields and lingered under the boughs of the willow trees. This was a place where everyone knew everyone's business where multiple generations of the same family lived down the street from each other. But this was also a place where horrible violence could go unchecked. where a wealthy white man could easily pay the police to look the other way if he broke the law. For decades, one man did just that in Meriwether County.

He could do anything, commit any crime, and no one would stop him. And on April 20, 1948, he would test the limits of his power with deadly consequences. Welcome to Solved Murder's True Crime Mysteries, a Spotify original from Parcast. I'm your host, Carter Roy. And I'm your host, Wendy McKenzie. Every Wednesday, we step into the world of true crimes, most fascinating murder cases, and tell the tale of how real-life detectives close the case. You can find episodes of Solved Murders and all other Spotify originals from Parcast for free exclusively on Spotify.

This is our first episode on the murder of Wilson Turner. This week, we'll cover how Wilson got caught in the crosshairs of a wealthy moonshineer. Next week, we'll cover the shocking trial that made history for Meriwether County. We have all that and more coming up. Stay with us. The American South in the early decades of the 20th century carried with it a troubled legacy. In central Georgia, the history of slavery and the wreckage of the Civil War was hidden beneath an idyllic image of pastoral life, a pure white plantation mansion at the end of a dirt road, the past, flanked with massive oak trees, their branches shrouded in Spanish moss.

Maryweather County, Georgia, 65 miles south of Atlanta, was right in the middle of the Jim Crow South, and the region carried with it a legacy of violence and willful ignorance. Racism and the desire to hide it affected the way that crime was handled in Maryweather County. If a white man happened to harm one of his black employees, the police often turned a blind eye to it. On southern farms, black sharecroppers were subjected to terrible conditions and even worse treatment by their white overseers. Black southerners could expect violence from their white neighbors at any given time.

These dramas unfolded within the sleepy rural setting of Meriwether County, Georgia. This small pocket of the country was at once a pastoral dream and a violent nightmare. and it is in the middle of this conflict that the story of John Wallace took place. If a small town could have a king, John Wallace would have been the reigning monarch. He was a portly man with a bald head, usually topped with a wide-brimmed hat. Like any farmer in the sweltering Georgia heat, he typically wore a plain workshirt and pants. He seemed approachable. Wallace was part of an important family, the entirety of which,

lived in Meriwether County. His mother's side of the family, the Stricklands, had lived in the same section of town for generations, cousins, uncles, children, grandchildren. Everyone lived within walking distance of each other. This section of the county was so cherished by the family that they nicknamed it the kingdom. The Stricklands were extremely wealthy by small town standards. They owned a massive farm employing hundreds of sharecroppers and providing the entire county with goods. The Stricklands had been farming in the area for the past 150 years, but by the late 1920s, dairy farming wasn't the real source of the family's wealth.

Under the cover of night, the Stricklands made their money in another much more profitable way, making and running liquor. The operation was simple but effective. The Stricklands would hide the liquor in dairy bottles and ship them out on trains with fake exciting. By the height of the prohibition era, the kingdom had earned a hefty profit, making, transporting, and selling moonshine to the masses. Bootlegging was a dangerous business, but it hardly mattered. Even after prohibition was lifted nationwide in 1933, Georgia temperance laws remained strict. So the family continued their trade,

earning a profit on liquor that evaded the eyes of the alcohol tax unit. Their motivation was simple. Money could make all sorts of problems disappear, and Wallace had no shortage of problems. Meriwether County Police Department, this is Sheriff Collier speaking. Up at the Kingdom. How's the family? Heard you just welcomed a beautiful baby granddaughter. He on the lookout for a gift basket from us this afternoon. John, come now. It's too generous. What can I do you for? Well, here's the deal. We've got a big dairy shipment going out tomorrow night. Just wanted to make sure we were clear that we can expect smooth sailing from you and the boys at the station.

Yes, sir. You're all good to go. You need me to send one of my guys for extra protection? I've heard that there are some federal guys snooping around a few towns over. No, no, that won't be necessary. Thanks, Hardy. Give my best to your wife and the kids. Come around my place for dinner sometime. We love to see you. In the rare times when John Wallace was caught by the federal government, he always seemed to charm his way out of a stricter sentence. While some people might see this as sheer luck, John Wallace saw it as an indication of his boundless power. In 1928, John and his uncle, Mozart Strickland, were kingpins of the national bootlegging trade.

So naturally, the highest punishment was reserved for them. When the case was finalized, both Mozart Strickland and John Wallace were hit with heavy fines and the promise of significant jail time. But like other attempts to topple the kingdom, John Wallace had a way of making trouble disappear and was released from prison early. When Wallace was caught again a few years later and tried by a federal judge, Baskam Deaver, he attempted once more to charm his way out of trouble. Your Honor, I'd like to have a word with you about my sentence. All right, John, but I've already given you ample time to get your affairs in order. Six months, if I remember,

right? You will have to pay the price for your actions one of these days. Mark my words. Yes, and I thank you kindly for your generosity in this regard, and I'd hate to ask you for more when you've already done so much for me and my family, but I simply must request one more thing. All right. What is it, then? Your Honor, this trial has brought me to my knees. I'm but a simple dairy farmer, and I know I've lost my way. All I want is to return to my family after my sentence, work in honest day's work, and give back to the community that has brought my family so much kindness. What are you getting at?

Well, sir, I know my sentence has me set to serve three whole years behind bars. Now, I would never question the ironclad judgment of the law, but I must ask if you can find it in your heart to grant me a small kindness in reducing the time I will be forced to serve away from my family. Well... I pledge to you that I will never return to my old form of employment. The thought of it makes me sick. Is there any way to grant me some clemency?

I want to do right by the law. That's all I desire. I suppose... I suppose nine months could suffice, but I won't go down any further. Nothing that John Wallace said was true. He had no intention of giving up moonshining or bootlegging, but he always had a way of getting what he wanted, even if it meant spending a few inconvenient months behind bars.

But this was not the only break that John Wallace received in the case. The Kingdom's liquor business had quite a few high-profile customers, Behind closed doors, these same people wanted to get their fix somehow, and the kingdom was happy to oblige. By the time of Wallace's first conviction, elder members of the kingdom had already been rubbing elbows with President Franklin D. Roosevelt when he came to stay at his country home in Warm Springs, Georgia. They allegedly supplied him with whiskey on those visits. FDR couldn't undo a bootlegging conviction without raising a few eyebrows, but he could do something. something close to it. At the end of the 1928 case, John Wallace had already received his sentence, but the president could offer Mozart Strickland some help. Franklin D. Roosevelt granted Mozart a pardon,

effectively wiping away the remaining cost of his fine. This pardon was only one of hundreds that he gave out to people who were still paying off their fines for selling illegal alcohol. Mozart Strickland was thrilled, but he wasn't the only one. John Wallace took this presidential pardon one step further. He viewed it as legal permission for his entire extended family to continue breaking the law. In the bootleggers' mind, this pardon granted clemency for any and all crimes the kingdom committed or would commit in the future. John Wallace believed he could do anything he wanted. To his neighbors, John Wallace was the picture of a southern gentleman.

He was the richest man in town by a long shot. And he was overwhelmingly generous. He treated his neighbors like his own family, inviting them to his palatial house for dinner or even helping them pay their medical bills. One neighbor, a young girl, became extremely sick. She required medical care that their small town couldn't offer. But John Wallace saw no obstacle too tall to overcome.

Without hesitation, he paid for the girl to be transported to a larger town for treatment. But his generosity didn't stop there. John Wallace provided for the young girl as she grew to adulthood, even paying for her college education. It was through this kind of treatment that John Wallace endeared himself to the people of Maryweather County. Well, most of them. The fatherly veneer that John Wallace showed to his neighbors easily chipped away.

He had another reputation among the sharecroppers who worked in his fields. If you couldn't offer John Wallace something that he wanted, then the man was a very different person. And this side of his personality would be his undoing. Coming up, a new employee named Wilson Turner learns about John Wallace's dark side. Stay with us. Hi, listeners, it's Vanessa from Parkast. When you think of a criminal, do you picture a killer, a gangster, a thief?

I bet you didn't think it could be the little old lady down the street who murdered her tenants. Every Wednesday on my series, female criminals, meet the unlikeliest of felons, mothers, neighbors, and unsuspecting lovers with a penchant for dangerous behavior. Discover the psychology and motives behind their disturbing crimes, and find out where their story stands today. But that's not all. Erring right now on female criminals is our special five-part look at the world's most infamous femme fatals, women who were deceptive and deadly, but not always the villain.

Catch these episodes and more by following the Spotify original from Parcast, Female Criminals. New episodes premiere weekly. Listen free on Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts. Now back to the story. By the 1940s, John Wallace had established himself as the unofficial monarch of Meriwether County, Georgia. He could charm his way out of any problem and had no short. shortage of politicians and policemen in his pocket.

His neighbors saw him as a kind-hearted, fatherly man who was profoundly generous, but not everyone saw him this way. The sharecroppers who worked on John Wallace's farm knew the man to be a tyrant, capable of unexpected outbursts of violence. To his workers, John Wallace's massive amount of power and wealth was a threat more than a blessing. All the sharecroppers who worked in John Wallace's kingdom were black. And in the Jim Crow South, racial violence against black people was more than accepted. It was practically encouraged.

Regularly, white people were hardly ever held accountable for acts of violence against black people. But John Wallace wasn't a regular person. He ran Maryweather County. He was completely, totally untouchable. Hey, boy, did I see you hiding a few ears of corn in your trousers? You still in for me? No, sir, I didn't touch a thing. Are you calling me a liar?

No, I'm not. I just think you're mistaken. I haven't stolen anything from you. You are calling me a liar. You think I didn't see what I saw? You think a thief like you can just take my property and call me a liar to my face? No, I just... That'll teach you to talk back to me, boy.

John Wallace killed at least two blinds. black men in similarly minor confrontations. It wasn't a secret, but it also wasn't seen as particularly unusual to his white neighbors. They were more than willing to turn the other way on this unpleasant part of the man's personality. After all, John Wallace was often the sole reason that certain families were able to pay off their debts or send their children off to college. No one wanted to risk losing that kind of generosity. And even the local police knew that John Wallace was not someone who should be crossed. John Wallace's notoriously violent nature didn't keep people from seeking out work on his farm. The kingdom was a massive compound of fields and

pastures. For anyone down on their luck and looking for employment, John Wallace's farm was the most viable option in Meriwether County. So when a young white man named Wilson Turner found himself desperate for a job, he immediately turned his attention to the kingdom. Wilson Turner's life was the exact opposite of John Wallace's. Growing up dirt poor in Crawford County, Georgia, Wilson was used to working endless odd job to try to make ends meet. He moved towns in search of work, eventually ending up in Meriwether County. When he first laid eyes on the rolling green fields of John Wallace's farm, Wilson thought it was a paradise.

His family warned him about John Wallace's unpredictable violence, but Wilson hardly listened. This was a far cry from the musty cotton mills that he had previously worked for. The kingdom's bootlegging business was an open secret in Merriweather County, and Wilson hoped that he could earn his way into the operation. So in 1945, Wilson Turner approached John Wallace for a job. Mr. Wallace? What is it, boy? I'm a busy man, and I don't have time for much conversation with strangers.

Oh, right, I'm Wilson Turner. I'm looking for a job. I'd just love to work on a fine farm such as this. I don't hire whites to do my sharecropping. Is there anything more specialized you can do? Oh, yes. I can do whatever work you need. I could even help you by. I could even help you by. out with the other work you fellas do out here. Well, I'll give you this. You don't beat around the bush. All right, son, let's get you started out in our dairy pastures and see how you fare. Sound good?

In late 1945, Wilson Turner started working at the kingdom. He soon showed himself to be a hardworking farmhand. Five months after being hired, Wilson was brought into the real family business, liquor-making and running. Wilson Turner took to bootlegging immediately. For him, it was an exciting, secretive way to make money. Working at an illegal whiskey still beat farming any day. He hadn't seen much of John Wallace's notorious temper, at least not at first.

But that all changed a few years into his new job. The night started off like any other. Wilson worked down at the whiskey still with a few other men. The still was nestled discreet. in the swamp, the thick air perfumed with a smell of fermenting corn. On this night, the men were bottling and packing up a massive shipment of whiskey that was sure to leave everyone with a hefty paycheck. But suddenly, John Wallace threw open the door and told everyone to stop.

Apparently, he received a tip that some federal agents were planning a raid. It was too risky. What? You mean you're just going to give up? 400 gallons of liquor? We've got a lot more to lose by getting caught. But the pickup is ready. We'll manage the drop just fine.

I'm not taking any chances. Leave it. Why don't you give it to me? I'll run it. There are 20 gallons ready to go. I'm not afraid. You've got a taste for money, huh? All right, you run it.

Let's see if you get caught. It'll teach you what caution means. But Wilson Turner didn't get caught. He ran the liquor completely undetected. The next day, he returned to John Wallace with the cash in hand, feeling smug. Wallace was back at the still with two black employees, surveying the liquor and planning another run. All right, pay up. Hand over the money.

But Mr. Wallace, you told me I could run the 20 gallons. Pay up, boy. This money is as good as mine. I ran the liquor. I deserve the cash. Wilson shoved the water bills in his pocket and started backing away. But in a single movement, John Wallace lunged at him, grabbing Wilson by the collar and lifting him off the ground. You think you can speak like that to me? Why? Because you're white? You don't have more rights than anyone else under my thumb. With that, Wallace threw Wilson down. When the young man tried to stand, Wallace placed his boot on his head, holding him down. You should have learned your lesson from the start.

Albert, what lesson is that? We gotta do what we're told. Robert Lee? No matter what. See, Turner, they know their lesson, but I don't think you've learned yours yet. John Wallace stomped down hard on Wilson's head and kicked the man in the side.

As Wilson lay writhing in pain on the swampy ground, John leaned close to deliver one final message. Never trifle with me and my money. Now get off my land before I decide to kill you instead. Wilson Turner scrambled up off the ground and ran. He didn't stop running until he got home, where he grabbed his wife and his young son and hurried with them to his wife's uncle's house.

Wilson didn't dare stay in his own house that night, which was built on the farm's property. He knew he wouldn't feel safe there. Being kicked off of John Wallace's farm meant that as a tenant farmer, Wilson Turner lost everything, his house, his land, and any possibility of employment. It's likely that the moment word got out that Wilson had crossed John Wallace, no one wanted to hire him. Wilson's house had 50 acres of corn and cotton each, ready to be harvested. Now there was no

possible way for him to sell it. He was completely broke with a family to support and a new child on the way. But Wilson Turner was not the kind of person to take something like this lying down. He wanted revenge. Despite persistent warnings from his family, Wilson became determined to steal back the money Wallace had taken from him. Wilson eventually devised a plan to steal two of John Wallace's cows. It took some convincing, but Wilson finally got his wife's uncle and his brother-in-law to help him on the heist. For Wilson, this would be the ultimate retribution.

But Wilson Turner had no idea what retribution really looked like. He was about to find out the hard way. Coming up, Wilson Turner's plan puts him face to face with the unrelenting wrath of John Wallace. Stay with us. And now, back to the story. Wilson Turner seemed to be the only person in Meriwether County, Georgia, who wasn't afraid of John Wallace. He was determined to take back what he saw as his rightful payment for over two years of hard labor. And if he couldn't get it by legal means, then he would settle for stealing two of John Wallace's cows.

It took weeks for Wilson Turner to convince anyone to help him with his plan. But finally, Wilson's wife's Uncle Millard and his brother-in-law Tommy agreed. On a pitch black night in April of 1948, the three men drove out to one of the king. kingdom's many cow pastures. The plan was simple. Miller had attached a crude ramp to the back of his pickup truck. They would pull the vehicle up to the barbed wire fence, drop the ramp over it, and hoped that the cows knew what to do. The three men pulled off onto the damp grass and gingerly lowered down the ramp. Through the darkness, they could still make out the solid figures of the cows, their tails aimlessly swishing against their hides. All they could hear was the gentle,

any sound of the cowbells. Wilson was on edge. They could be discovered at any moment. Painfully, slowly, some curious cows began ambling toward the ramp, sniffing it and pawing it with their hooves. The men goaded them along, clicking their tongues and gesturing towards the pickup truck. And sure enough, two cows clambered onto the ramp, across the fence and into the truck bed. Phew, I can't believe it worked. All right, Turner, what's the plan? Well, I figured I'd put one down in Carrollton

and the other in a big pasture over in Caleta County. Caleta County? Have you lost your mind? Do you know who's sheriff in Coweta County? Lamar Potts. He may not be in John Wallace's pocket, but that man knows every single thing that happens in his town. You honestly think he won't notice someone hiding a stolen cow? I saw the pasture. There's a ton of cows out there. Nobody's going to notice one more cow. I don't care who this Pots fella is. He's not going to notice.

Boy, I don't know where you lost your sense, but there is no way I'm taking this cow into Kawita County. You might as well unload it now if that's your grand plan. Fine. I'll bring the second cow down to Roberta in Crawford County. Happy? Listen, you'll thank me one of these days for saving your hide. All right, let's go. Then drove off into the night, dropping off the cows in two separate locations. Wilson Turner stayed in Carrollton with the first cow, watching the animal graze across the pasture. So far, the plant had gone through without a hitch. Wilson was convinced that he had finally gotten his just reward from John Wallace. But Wilson Turner was dead wrong.

John Wallace knew about every single thing that happened in the kingdom, including the exact number of cattle that grazed. on his farms. The next morning, John Wallace already knew that two of his cows had been stolen. The man didn't waste any time. He alerted law enforcement in Carrollton, Coweta, and Meriwether counties. He even called the Georgia Bureau of Investigations. Within the day, every cattle seller knew to look for John Wallace's missing cows, and every policeman in three counties was on the hunt. It didn't take long for John Wallace's massive team to fight. one of the cows in Carrollton, but that wasn't enough for him. He wanted the man responsible. So the cow was left alone, and beginning on April 14th, John Wallace himself would drive out to the

pasture and keep watch on it throughout the night. Wilson Turner had been hiding out in Carrollton and spotted John Wallace on the night of the 14th. Determined to outsmart his former employer, Wilson pretended nothing was wrong and hid while he let him. cow graze until he could transport it to another pasture that wasn't being watched. Four days passed, and on April 18th, the car that Wilson had begun to expect never showed. The young man took this as a sign that he was finally in the clear. So around midnight, he gently led the cow across the pasture, preparing to finally move him via a Millard's waiting truck.

But this time, things didn't go according to plan. The Carrollton chief of police emerged out of the darkness, pointing his gun at Wilson. The young man froze in his tracks. There was nowhere he could go, nothing he could do. He was caught. Wilson Turner was taken to Carrollton jail and tossed into a cell. But strangely, the young man was relieved. John Wallace didn't control the police in this town.

Wilson may be arrested, but at least he was free from the wrath of the kingdom. But this sense of relief didn't last for long. The next morning, Wilson awoke in his cell to the piercing light of a flashlight. Dazed, Wilson looked up to see the silhouette of a man looming over him. Get up, Turner. Sheriff Collier? That's me. Now, come on, we're taking you back to Merriweather County. What? You can't do that. I'm a dead man if you take me back there.

I got arrested in Carrollton County. Why wouldn't I stay here? Sure, sure, you got caught in Carrollton. But last time I checked, those cows were stolen in Merriweather County. So that's where the crime took place, and that's where I'm taking you. I have a warrant. No, you can't do that. Don't you know what'll happen to me back there? You can't do this.

I said, get up, boy. If I have to drag you back to Maryweather County, I will. Wilson Turner screamed and struggled the entire way back to Meriwether, but it wasn't any use. Sheriff Collier brought the young man to the Meriwether County Jail in Greenville and tossed him in a new cell. Any vague sense of safety was now completely gone. Wilson Turner was back in John Wallace's kingdom. There was no telling what kind of punishment awaited him.

For a whole day, no one came to see Wilson Turner in his cell. None of his family knew where he was, and he had no way of telling them to come to his aid. when he asked to call his wife, he was refused. The young man could only pace nervously back and forth across the short length of his cell, desperately thinking of a way to escape. The night came, but Wilson could hardly sleep.

By the morning of April 20th, he was no more hopeful than he had been the day before. But shortly before noon, someone came to his cell door and opened it. Sheriff Collier told me to turn you loose. What? Did he say why? He just said that the cattle stealing charges weren't enough to keep you here, and then I should let you out right at 12 o'clock.

Why such a specific time? Man, I don't know. Are you coming out or not? Still dazed from this sudden change, Wilson Turner scrambled out of the jail cell. His pickup truck had been brought to the front of the station, the keys already in the ignition. strangely, however, it was almost entirely out of gas. The day was bizarrely still.

As Wilson Turner swung his truck into the main road to head towards a gas station, he noticed that there were no other cars. No one was around. Wilson slowly made his way down the dusty road. He stopped at an intersection, and Wilson could hear the distant sound of the town clock chiming the start of the hour. Noon. But then, another car slowly came into view and another one behind it.

Suddenly, Wilson slammed his foot on the gas. The tires kicked up a massive amount of dust as his truck tore down the road that led toward the county line. The other cars followed just as quickly. Wilson's truck barreled ahead, but the other cars were gaining. In the chaos, Wilson was run off the road, and he found. found himself by a roadside truck stop with a restaurant and a motel. Suddenly, the two vehicles chasing him pulled off the road. Wilson burst out of his car screaming and calling for help. Almost immediately, John Wallace, the accomplice he was driving with, and the two men in the second

car jumped out and approached. Wilson screamed louder, calling out for help, but John Wallace's men were quick. One of them caught up to the young man and struck him down. landing blow after blow with his pistol. The fight attracted a small group of onlookers. People filed out of the restaurant to see what was going on. Oh, God, what's going on? Go back inside. This man is dangerous. He's wanted for murder. Why don't you handcuff him?

We don't need to handcuff him. The man dragged Wilson to John Wallace's car. Wilson protested, bracing himself against the doorframe, John Wallace walked up to him and in one swift movement hit the young man over the head with a butt of a shotgun. Wilson's body went limp and fell into the back seat of the car. John Wallace climbed in after him and from what the spectators could see, continued beating the young man over and over again. But as soon as Wallace's henchman returned to the car, it sped off,

carrying the limp body of Wilson Turner with it. April 20th, 1948 would be the last time anyone saw Wilson Turner alive. And there was no question about it. John Wallace killed him. But that didn't mean anything. At least, not normally. John Wallace had killed people before and never faced any consequences. But John Wallace had made one huge mistake.

He didn't notice that during the chase, Wilson Turner had crossed. over county lines. When Wallace and his men attacked the young man, they were in Coweta County. Coweda County was the domain of Sheriff Lamar Potts, and he was not going to let this go. Thanks again for tuning in to Solved Murders. We'll be back next Wednesday with Part 2 of the Murder of Wilson Turner. For more information on Wilson Turner and John Wallace, amongst the many sources we use, we found murder in Coweta County by Margaret Barnes

extremely helpful to our research. You can find all episodes of Solved Murders and all other Spotify originals from Parcast for free on Spotify. We'll see you next time. If we'll live till next time. Solved Murders, True Crime Mysteries is a Spotify original from Parcast. It is executive produced by Max Cutler.

Sound design by Michael Langsner with production assistance by Ron Shapiro, Madden and Freddie Beckley. This episode of Solved Murders was written by Georgia Hampton with writing assistants by Giles Hofsef. Fact-checking by Claire Cronin and research by Mickey Taylor. The amazing cast of voice actors includes Tom Bauer, Kai Jordan, Eddie Lee, and Julian Smith.

Solved Murders stars Wendy McKenzie and Carter Roy.