Klan murder story

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James Byrd was a good man. His parents, siblings and his own children loved him. James usually had no problems with his family but recently he and his wife had not seen eye to eye on many different levels. James liked to drink, drinking wasn¡¯t the problem but getting drunk was. James would come home very late or maybe not at all at times. James enjoyed drinking, as he could see nothing wrong with it. With his stubbornness he could not fathom why his wife would make a big deal out of the situation every time. He got frustrated by this and led to drink even more, thus the ever going cycle. The kids were kept in the dark about this affair. Mrs. Byrd would just tell them daddy is a stupid man and they were far too young to understand the complexities involved in this whole situation. Things had gotten heated up one evening because it was his son¡¯s birthday and he missed it. Byrd¡¯s son waited for him the whole night. His Wife was giving him a lecture and James had fled the house and went to escape the verbal onslaught.

James Had sought refuge at a local bar, drinking his sorrows away. He had been troubled by not only his family issues but recently had begun to feel empty and confused. He was wondering why he was here still stuck in the same job, doing the same things. It had appeared that he had reached the pinnacle of his existence. Had he achieved all that he was capable of achieving? He hadn¡¯t achieved his goals; He just wanted to drink more. It seemed he barely talks to his family now. Perhaps he was bored of his life; maybe he needed some thing new. Maybe it¡¯s just the alcohol he thought to himself, just playing tricks on his mind. As the night went on the sound of people dimmed, and eventually cease to exist. As Time went on his mind seemed to slip further into a haze, one he was in no hurry to wake from. ¡°I think you¡¯ve had enough buddy¡± was the bartenders reply when Byrd asked for another drink. And just like that he was out on the street with no place to go.

Byrd began to wonder aimlessly while still in his drunken haze had stumbled across three guys in a truck. They had kindly offered him a lift and he accepted, ¡°Where you headed?¡± Asked one bloke. ¡°I¡¯ll just ride with you for now.¡± As the truck drove off the three men glanced at each other strangely. Eventually the truck stopped in the bush and the three men had rushed out off the vehicle and started violently pulling Byrd out. Byrd clenched onto the door but the combined Power of the three men where too much. They had pulled Byrd onto the dirt and began to beat him. They punched his face and kicked his ribs. Every time he cried out in agony they would laugh and continue beating as if it were encouraging them on. Eventually they stopped and one of the men had an idea. ¡°Let¡¯s chain him to the truck and see how long he lasts!¡± ¡°Hehe, Good Idea.¡± Replied another. They then worked on attaching him to the truck using a large chain. As they tightened the chain and tied it to the rear of the truck, the chains had seemed to be too tightly curled and were cutting off Byrd¡¯s circulation. They three men started the truck and those few moments were the scariest time of his life, the anticipation of the pain was quite enough to kill him by itself. As they traveled along Byrd desperately attempted to climb on the back of the truck and hang on, but to no success as every time he got close he would be met with a swift turn or a rock in the face. At first the pain in his legs and torso was incredible but the pain subdued, he when to look why and was in shock when he realized that his legs had been separated from the torso which was also in quite a bad shape. He began to feel lightheaded then just weak, he realized his life was slipping away and he could nothing about it. His whole life lashed before his eyes. All his triumphs, all his sadness, all the good and all the bad. Then a horrifying image began to emerge, he saw his family and they drifted further and further away from him. He panicked he remembered all the moments where he was there with his family before the drinking. When he saw his kids first talk and walk. And his wife, he would miss his wife. He realized he would¡¯ve been content with his life if he spent more time with his family instead of drinking. He wished he were at his son¡¯s birthday. And for the briefest moment he realized what a great life he had, although he would¡¯ve enjoyed it more if he didn¡¯t drink so much. And in that brief moment a smile crept upon his face, then all was black. By the time the boys had stopped the joy ride they were in front of a church in which black people attended regularly. They dumped the remainder of the corpse in front of the church and sped off hoping that they wouldn¡¯t get caught.

Eventually the Killers were caught and brought to justice. The main killer was John William King. The mood in the courthouse here Thursday was one of quiet, respectful triumph as John William King received the death penalty for one of the most heinous crimes in recent American history, the murder of James Byrd Jr., whom he dragged to death behind a pick-up truck. The historic sentencing (the first time a white man in Texas has received the death penalty for killing a black man since the death penalty was reinstated in the late 170s)was met with a stunning display of racial unity in the courtroom. White and black of Jaspar held hands in suspense while the decision was being read, then embraced each other afterwards. Three African-American residents raised their hands in triumph. The family of Byrds family was silent and tearful. Exiting the courtroom, Stella Brumley, Byrds sister, said that justice had been served. No doubt about it.

As King, who has shown no remorse during the trial, was taken from the courthouse after his death sentence, a reporter asked if he had anything to say to the Byrd¡¯s. Suck my ¨CBeep-, he spat.

Although the events and time are factual much of the detail is fictional

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