Radio mirror (Nov 1937-Apr 1938)

Record Details:

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ILLUSTRATED By OREN R. WAGGENER of a concrete case of prison brutality. Probably, he knew, he wouldn't find it, but the papers sometimes published such things, and one would give his speech the added point it needed. Suddenly he leaned forward in interest. Judging from the headline, here was the very thing. "LIFER ACCUSES GUARDS OF BRUTALITY. "DALLAS, Texas — A Texas ranch owner, serving a life term in the prison here,, today accused his guards of mistreating and beating him. Doctors, visiting the man in the prison hospital, said that he may die of his injuries. "The prisoner, William C. Turner . . ." Thomas Carman's hand, where it held the paper, began THE DRAMATIC BROAD CAST STORY OF A MAN DOOMED TO DEATH FOR THE MURDER OF SOMEONE WHO STILL LIVED to shake; he read the line once more. His lips soundlessly formed the words, "Bill Turner . . . Bill Turner . . ." over and over again. -It couldn't be the Bill Turner he had known, so long ago! Quickly he read the remainder of the brief report, down to the last line of all. Then, his eyes staring in horrified amazement straight before him, he leaned back in his chair, pressing his trembling hand against his cheek, watching the peace of his life for the last twenty-two years crumble into chaos. Because there it was, right there in the paper: "Turner was convicted in 1914 of the murder of Thomas Carman, Texas rancher." W! HEN they were growing up together in that small Texas town, Tom Carman used to call Bill Turner "Fuzzy." It was a nickname that seemed to fit, somehow. Small and inoffensive, with a shock of silky straw-colored hair, he was the sort of boy you'd give a faintly derisive nickname to. Not that there was ever any harm in Fuzzy Turner. He just wasn't very bright. For instance, he had a passion for grapes. Once, when he was a kid, he'd been caught stealing some. He loved to see them hanging in rich, fat clusters from their stems, their smooth skins dusted with purple or green. As he grew older he used to tell Tom that the grapes were full of the earth's blood. Well, it was a harmless enough delusion, and Fuzzy grew up to be a good worker. He had a way with animals, he understood them, and when Tom became a man, married a girl from the North, and decided to go into the cattle business, he asked Fuzzy to join him in the venture. "We're startin' small," he told (Continued on page 53) 33