Perhaps due to the pending end to the World War, now known as World War I, or perhaps to the remote nature of Harlan, Kentucky, the death of Patrolman Dixon Allen Sasser generated little to no news at the time it occurred.
On October 12, 1918, Chief Will Tucker, Harlan City Police Department, was attempting to arrest a bootlegger, When gunfire broke out, Patrolman Dixon Allen Sasser, who was assisting the chief, was shot and killed. Chief Tucker, and another man, described as a posseman, were both seriously injured. Chief Tucker survived another shooting, an ambush, just a few months later, as well.
His killer, Finley Johnson, was tried twice, on changes of venue to Clay and Bell County. His first trial resulted in a hung jury. In his second trial, in November, 1919, he was acquitted for unexplained reasons.
Patrolman Dixon Allen Sasser was survived by his wife, Annie, and several children. The family had just lost an infant son, Arther, a few months before his father was killed. Patrolman Sasser is buried at the Robinson Creek Cemetery in London, in Laurel County.
Find A Grave
On May 15, 2023, Patrolman Dixon Allen Sasser was added to the National Law Enforcement Memorial in Washington, D.C. On May 25, 2023, he was added to the Kentucky Law Enforcement Memorial in Richmond, Kentucky.
On the night of August 26, 1922, Sheriff William Sherman Mathis, Muhlenberg County, his son Orville and his nephew Denny, his deputies, went to the home of John T. Annis. (Although most stories give the family the last name of Ennis, Annis is the correct spelling.) They were in search of Clyde Harper, for whom they had a warrant for breach of the peace (what we would now call disorderly conduct). In a tragic mistake, they were seeking Harper at the wrong cottage, however – as there were two roads out of the small community of Nelson, six miles from Central City, and at each, there was a country store with a cottage beside it. Annis lived in one, while Harper lived in the other.
The deputies when to the back and side of the Annis cottage, to watch for anyone escaping. Sheriff Mathis went to the front door, knocked and demanded Harper. Annis denied that the Sheriff had any warrant for him, or that he had “done anything to be arrested for.” The Sheriff, thinking he was speaking to Harper’s father, demanded “the boy.” Annis denied there was any boy at the house. Sheriff Mathis kicked in the door and Annis opened fire with his shotgun. Deputy Orville Mathis ran to the door and shot Annis over his father’s fallen body. He hit Jennie, Annis’s daughter. Annis fired the second barrel at Orville Mathis, before Denny Mathis, firing though a window, struck both Annis and Ella Smith, another daughter. Annis later stated that he thought that the Sheriff was Mrs. Smith’s husband, with whom she “had trouble.”
Sheriff William Mathis died the next day in Central City. Orville Mathis, who had been hit in the chest and abdomen by buckshot, was sent to Louisville’s St. Anthony Hospital.
Although not expected to survive, John Annis, age 72, did. His daughter, Jennie, shot in the shoulder, also did, but his daughter, Ella Smith, did not, passing away in Louisville some weeks later. Before Mrs. Smith’s death at the Deaconess Hospital, she claimed she had pled for mercy before being shot. The Commonwealth’s Attorney, Hubert Meredith, had suspicions about the situation, thinking it was “not entirely the result of a mistake.” The Sheriff had been at the home for some minutes before he attempted to force entry, more an ample opportunity to explain any mistake. As the Sheriff had been active in waging a fight on bootlegging, he thought the Sheriff may have been deliberately directed to the wrong home. He also thought someone else might have been in the house, and fled before other officers arrived. (As evidence, it was noted that one of the windows in the house was shot out in a way that caused the glass to fall outward.)
As was not uncommon at the time, Mrs. Flora Mathis took office as Sheriff days later. She would be expected to hold the position for some 14 months, until a special election could be held.
In late September, John T. “Uncle Dud” Annis was indicted for wilful murder. He stood trial in January, 1923. A special sheriff had to be appointed, as Mrs. Mathis was still serving as Sheriff. At the trial, the trial jury could not reach a verdict, and Ennis was discharged. A few months later, Mrs. Mathis resigned as Sheriff, and one of her deputies, Cecil Lewis, was appointed to serve in her stead.
John T. Annis passed away in 1930.
Sheriff W.S. Mathis
Sheriff William S. Mathis, age 54 at the time of his death, had only taken office the previous November. He was well respected and it was noted that “in this case, his weapon caused no death.” He is buried in the Evergreen Cemetery, in Greenville, Muhlenberg County. His wife, Flora, survived him by many years; she passed away just after her 100th birthday. She is buried with him. He was also survived by five children, including his injured son, Orville.
On December 23, 1928, in unrelated situations, two Perry County law enforcement officers died by gunfire.
The first, the Combs Town Marshal, Mat Holland, got into a pistol fight in front of the mine commissary store. As both died without making any statements, officials had no information as to what had happened to bring on the duel. It is unknown where Marshal Combs is buried, or any particulars about his life.
Mack Summers
Just a half hour later, Mack Summers, age 34, a Perry County deputy sheriff, was killed at Jeff. He had, it was understood, been contacted at home to respond to a disorderly man firing a gun, but he had been active in raiding moonshine stills and it was thought his murder was as a result of that. Three men, Dan Kilburn, Elmer Witt and Ray Pennington were arrested but there is no indication any further legal action was taken against them.
Mack Summers was survived by his wife and four children, and is buried in Englewood Cemetery in Perry County. In 1968, his tombstone, along with many others, was destroyed by vandals, and it was later replaced. His wife, Lorraine, survived him by many years, and remarried, and lies elsewhere.
On October 19, 1943, a ten year old girl summoned the Falmouth Chief James Smith to her Park Street home, as her parents Everett Hamilton and his wife, were quarrelling. The wife was, it appeared, angry that Hamilton had gone on a fox hunt that day. When the Sheriff arrived, he was warned by Kinsey Ramsey, delivering milk across the street, that Hamilton was armed with a shotgun (as he had just returned from the hunt).
As Chief Smith approached to talk to Hamilton, they scuffled over the shotgun. It discharged, striking Chief Smith in the chest and killing him instantly.
Sheriff Charles E. Ashcraft arrested Hamilton, and charged him with murder. Hamilton stood trial in January, 1944 but the jury failed to reach a verdict. Hamilton had argued self-defense, contending that the chief was reaching for his revolver when Hamilton shot him. However, Sheriff Ashcraft testified that Hamilton’s gun was still in his holster when he arrived.
At Hamilton’s second trial, in April, 1944, he was acquitted, having successfully argued his self-defense claim.
Chief James William Smith, age 70, is buried in the Riverside Cemetery, in Falmouth, Pendleton County. His wife, Henrietta Hitch Smith, predeceased him by a few months, and lies with him. There is no indication they had any children. Their grave bears a second grave marker, which acknowledges Chief Smith’s service to Falmouth.
Prior to 1891, Officer Gustave “Gus” Rosenberg had what was likely a typical career as a Louisville police officer. He appeared in the newspaper on occasion, making arrests and occasionally being criticized for his actions. His rank with the department varied depending upon the administration at the time. He left the Louisville Police Department and returned, occasionally become a private detective (in a time when having a police detective investigate a crime was unusual).
In 1882, he was charged in the shooting death of an individual he was attempting to arrest, who had run at him with a hatchet in the street. He was, after several trials, acquitted. There was, at the time, no suspension from duty, even following the death – he was arrested, posted bond and simply went back to work, only taking off for the actual trials. (At the time, it was excepted that an officer involved in a homicide, would surrender themselves for arrest immediately, even if the situation was clearly self-defense. In many cases, they would be cleared in the coroner’s inquest.) He was, almost certainly, however, not paid for his time off while in trial.
In 1888, his brother, Officer Joseph Rosenberg, was murdered in 1888, along with Officer James Jones, by Charles Dilger. He actively assisted in the investigation of the murder, and ultimately, when Dilger was executed by hanging behind the Jefferson County Jail the following year, he would share a double scaffold with Harry Smart, whom Gus Rosenberg had arrested for another double murder just before his brother’s murder. However, shortly after his brother’s murder, Rosenberg was accused of taking a bribe in an unrelated case and fired. He returned to the force, presumably cleared of the crime, soon after.
On December 25, 1891, Officer Gus Rosenberg was attempting to arrest John Woods, who was apparently being drunk and disorderly by firing off his old musket in the joy of the season. Woods struck Rosenberg in the head with the gun-stock, knocking him briefly unconscious. Rosenberg regained his senses and the arrest was made, with Woods receiving a small fine.
Within the year, however, Policeman Rosenberg’s situation had changed dramatically. On November 6, 1892, officers responded to a frantic phone call to go to Rosenberg’s home, which he shared with a wife and son, at 332 East Chestnut Street near Floyd Street. He was found “in a very violent condition, acting like a crazy man, and it was with great difficulty he was restrained from doing harm to himself.” He had shown no such symptoms before and it was acknowledged that he had received injuries in the attack that “affected his brain and from which he never recovered.” A later story indicated that he had been hospitalized at some point in time after the assault. He recovered enough, however, to be back at work for the Louisville Police Department, as he was noted in a newspaper article in 1895 as making an arrest. He resigned in June, 1895, to pursue private business, which he did, as by the next spring, he was the operator of a furnishing goods establishment at First and Market Streets.
In the same month, however, it was reported that he had been charged with lunacy, and it was hoped that an operation with relieve him. However, it proved unsuccessful. In 1896 he was declared insane and was sent to the Central Asylum for the Insane (sometimes called Lakeland and now, of course, known as the Central State Hospital). In 1904 another surgery was contemplated but presumably also proved unsuccessful.
Lakeland Institute for the Insane (Anchorage, Ky)
On April 12, 1909, Gustav “Gus” Rosenberg passed away at the asylum, where he had been, on and off, an inmate. Although Coroner records attributed his death to “old age,” in the story of his death, it was acknowledged that his decline, and eventual death, occurred from the effects of the assault in 1891. He would have been about 53 at the time of his death, no old even by the standards of the time. Although not able to be proven, now, of course, he likely suffered, in 1891, from what would now be classified as a traumatic brain injury. He was survived by his wife, Flora Dinkelspiel Rosenberg, and his son, Alvin. He was also survived by two brothers and a sister. The Night Chief, Edward Burke, extolled him as “absolutely fearless” and “conscientious in the performance of his duty.”
Patrolman Gus Rosenberg is buried in The Temple Cemetery, in Louisville, Cemetery, along with his wife and other family members, including his murdered brother, Joseph Rosenberg. The cemetery was originally located at Preston and Woodbine Streets, but was relocated at a later date due to road construction. Although acknowledged locally as a line of duty death, he is not on the national or state memorials. He is not, at this time, classified as an official line of duty death. (Photos from Find-A-Grave.)
On December 31, 1922, Henderson, Kentucky experienced it’s first “mystery murder” in many years. As it was pieced together, it was learned that Gus Noffsinger, Jr., age 34, the general manager for the Southland Coal Mine Company, had met with a large stockholder of the company, one Edward Potter, the evening of December 30, at the Hotel Kingdon. He left for his home at 1514 Clay Street, in Henderson, just before midnight. He had lived in Henderson some five years before, having moved from Midland, in Muhlenberg County.
Hotel Kingdon Henderson, KY
At about 5 a.m. the morning of December 31, his father, Charles Bradford Noffsinger, went to the garage. He found his son lying in a pool of blood, at the open door of the garage. Upon investigation, police believed that Gus Noffsinger’s killer had been hiding in the garage and when Noffsinger pulled in, turned off his lights and started to leave the garage, the man attacked Noffsinger with a regulation size miner hammer later found in the garden. He was found to have been struck twice, once behind each ear. Since Noffsinger was a big, powerfully built man, over six feet and over 220 lbs, it was believed he had to have been ambushed.
Evansville Press
Noffsinger’s wife, Lurlee, called “Lurlie,” slept through the attack, in a bedroom only 20 feet away.
The only other clue, besides the hammer, were footprints of a man’s small foot, a size 5 1/2. The next day, another clue appeared, a pencil found in the garage, sharpened in a a completely different method than Noffsinger used. It was “half used up and deeply bitten into.”
Evansville Press
Robbery was quickly eliminated as a motive, as Noffsinger’s gold watch and a small amount of money was untouched. However, he was also known to have taken the day’s coal receipts and several unclaimed pay envelopes, presumably in cash, home with him, but did not have them with him at the time of the attack. The only other motive put forth was that Noffsinger was to testify in a liquor trial soon.
Evansville Press
Noffsinger was reported to be a “home man,” devoted to his wife and a young daughter, Velma. The couple had lost a son, age 2, just the year before.
Evansville, Indiana police were called in to assist. In particularly, Bertillion Officer John Heeger was assisting with fingerprints and footprints at the scene. Bloodhounds from Owensboro were brought in and they followed a trail from the garage through an alley, but lost the scent.
In an odd side detail, two young men who worked for the Henderson Gleaner (the small local newspaper) took the initiative to put out an “extra” of the newspaper with details on the murder. They had finished their work, one as a printer’s devil and the other as a carrier, and were shooting craps with the janitor. They gathered up the available news and put together a single page edition, and “lighted the gas” on the linotype machine. The pressmen and printers quickly rolled out the news!
A representative of the coal company reported that the hammer belonged to Noffsinger. Rewards were pledged by the company and two United Mine Workers unions.
Gus B. Noffsinger’s body was transported to, and in due course he was buried in, the Cedar Grove Cemetery near Midland.
Investigators believed the killer was “familar with his home and habits.” Normally he parked his “machine” – his car – in front of the house when he returns late at night, but due to the rain, he follows his habit of garaging it during bad weather, instead.
Evansville Press
The mystery was solved, it was thought, with the arrest of Ollie Gibbons at the Kingdon Hotel by Detective John Houghland of the Davis-Houghland Detective Agency out of Evansville. In fact, he approached Houghland, as he said, he knew he was a suspect and thought that he “might as well be in jail.” He was immediately whisked away to Owensboro due to a fear of a lynching. The public also learned that Noffsinger’s widow, Lurleen, was being “held in a secret place” and was also to be charged and that her daughter was, for the moment, with her. The motive, it seemed, was the victim’s $20,000 life insurance police. Mrs. Noffsinger (who was never referred to with her first name, even upon being arrested) confessed that the pair had plotted to kill her husband, and that Gibbons was to marry her and take her, and her daughter, out of the country. Gibbons had roomed with the couple the year before, for several months and during that time, Mrs.Noffsinger fell in love. She claimed her husband had abused her and they quarrelled, and Gibbons was sympathetic to “her troubles.” They became “very intimate,” and Gibbons told her (via a note) that he intended to killer Noffsinger. She said “it did not shock me as it should” and that she told Gibbons that she would not do it, but didn’t care if he did. She refused to poison him. There was also an earlier attempt when Gibbons was waiting outside for her to send her husband on an errand, so that Gibbons could attack him, but her never failed her. On the night of the murder, while her husband was out, Gibbons came to the house and then waited outside, while she “went to bed” and “slept soundly.”
Evansville Press
Evansville Press
Adding to the situation, she said, was that her in-laws were living with them as well and “they were old and couldn’t understand [their] ways.” She also overheard her father-in-law express concern the night of the murder that Noffsinger had not returned home, but her mother-in-law dissuaded him from talking to Mrs. Noffsinger because she had not been feeling well. She had not heard any shots and did not realize that Gibbons had chosen a different method of murder.
In addition to the hammer and the pencil, another piece of evidence linked Gibbons to the murder, an undershirt with a bloodstain that was dropped off at a Henderson laundry, with the initials O.G. HIs landlord also idenified the pencil as belonging to Gibbons.
The same afternoon as the arrest, Mrs. Noffsinger had called at an attorney’s office to settle the estate and to request a guardian for her daughter. Det. Houghland questioned her there and her “nerve failed,” leading to the confession. Houghland had, it was noted, considered the pair as suspects from the beginning, and had even questioned Mrs. Noffsinger at the “dead man’s bier,” to no avail.
The news reported that Mrs. Noffsinger had been married before, at 16, and was, according to her first husband, just a “plain country girl.” He learned after they were married awhile that she was “corresponding with other men,” so he left her for a time. When he returned from California, they divorced.
Swift justice was demanded. The County Attorney stated he intended to ask for the death penalty for both. At some point, with Owensboro fearing mob violence against Gibbons, he was taken to Louisville. In his confession, he coolly recounted what had happened and that Mrs. Noffsinger had told him that since it was raining, it was a “good night” for their plan. He claimed that he had tried to leave town when rumors started about his apparent relationship with his boss’s wife, but Noffsinger had begged for him to stay. He had several times “played sick” to spend time with her during the workday. She told him once, he related, that “Ollie, I love you well enough to let you take my heart, string it around your neck and wear it for a charm.” He claimed he “never had a better friend than Gus Noffsinger” and put all the blame on his paramour who “kept nagging at me to do this” and as a result, he killed his friend.
The following months, with legal matters proceeding, Charles Noffsinger, the victim’s father, moved to block the insurance payout, on behalf of his granddaughter, Velma. Although Gibbons was held in custody, Mrs. Noffsinger had been given bail and was released on a pledge of $10,000 by “prominent Muhlenberg county people.” had been allowed to go home to Central City, only returning to Henderson for the trial. Once there, she went into seclusion and friends were told she was “too ill” for visitors.
Evansville Press
At trial, Mrs. Noffsinger sobbed but finally was able to regain her composure to some degree, and testified to the plot. claiming that she had objected but when Gibbons was finally successful, she “said nothing.” She continued to claim that her husband was “mean and cruel to her and she had gotten to such a point that she did not care what happened to him, but she would never consent to kill him as she did not want murder on her soul.” She admitted to “illicit relations” with Gibbons and that her husband suspected it.
In a slight twist to what had been reported before, she claimed she awoke at 5 a.m. and raised the outcry, and her father-in-law went outside to look, finding the body. Her , it was thought, were help her in her upcoming trial on conspiracy.
Ollie Gibbons was convicted and given a life sentence, as a result of his confession to the murder.
In May, Lurlie Noffsinger was acquitted. The final chapter was written when the final payment on the life insurance was released, on behalf of her daughter, some $12,500; Mrs. Noffsinger had previously received $5,000. The child also received the residence. Mrs. Noffsinger soon remarried and lived in Owensboro with her new husband, and remained there until her death.
Find A Grave
Despite being reviled by fellow prisoners for testifying against his paramour, violating the prisoner code of “not to tell” on anyone, Gibbons proved to be a model prisoner. He had been hissed by fellow prisoners upon his arrival and would lead a lonely life there. Later in the same year, some evidence suggests he was commended for his help during the October 3, 1923, prison riot in Eddyville that led to the death of three guards. although his help was in fact questioned by the warden. In 1935, he was pardoned by Governor Ruby Laffoon but it is unknown where he spent the rest of his life.
On December 13, 1926, gunfire broke out in the tiny community of Greasy Creek, Deputy Sheriff Frank Phillips, the son of the late Frank Phillips of the Hatfield-McCoy feud, and Roland Branham. Branham, it was alleged, had attacked Phillips, yelling that “I understand you are the worst **** man in town.” (Other news reports just ignored the apparent profanity.) Both men fired, with Branham suffering a wound to his chest and left leg, and another man, not involved in the dispute, J.H. Ricker (or possibly Richard), was also wounded, having been shot by Branham. Deputy Phillips, in the meantime, was shot twice and killed with his own revolver by Branham’s brother Sylvan, who had snatched the gun away from the deputy after throwing him to the ground.
At trial in July, 1927, both men admitted that they had “drunk some whisky,” which was of course illegal at the time, but argued that Phillips had accosted them first. Sylvan, who actually killed Phillips, claimed that Phillips had “thrown his hand to his pocket” and he thought he was reaching for another gun. Ricker, who had just returned from hunting and was carrying a shotgun, testified that he had tried to leave the area when Branham ordered him to stop. Branham then shot him twice, and also shot a mule (perhaps inadvertently.) Witnesses claimed that Phillips fired first and that his reputation was “bad,” Rorland and Sylvan Branham each received a life sentence, after only a short deliberation. However, in July, 1930, a large fire at the Frankfort Penitentiary led to the Governor offering clemency to the inmates who had assisted in fighting the fire. For the Branham brothers, that meant a commutation of their life sentence to 21 years, with at possibly of parole in six years. That did, in fact, lead to the parole of both. Roland, however, did not stay out of trouble. In 1938, he was shot and seriously wounded by Tobe Salisbury, the brother of County Sheriff Dial Salisbury, Floyd County, but survived. Salisbury, at the time, was already under a bond for a “warrant in which he swore against himself at his brother’s request,” in the shooting of another man in Maytown the previous week. Sylvan Branham, for his part, died a few years later of tuberculosis.
Deputy Sheriff Frank Phillips, age 36, was survived by his wife and one child. He is buried in the Phillips Cemetery in Kimper, in Pike County. His wife’s name, however, is unknown, as per the custom at the time, her name, even on his death certificate, is simply, Mrs. Frank Phillips.
On August 24, 1947, in Bruin, near the confluence of two small branches of Grayson Lake, in an area known as Rocky Branch, Sheriff Norman Estill (more commonly called Estill) Adkins was in search of Jim Houston Stevens, for whom he held an arrest warrant. He learned that Stevens was also responsible of the knifing of a mute man, named Herb Wagoner, and the victim had been taken all the way to Good Samaritan Hospital, in Lexington, having suffered a gash across his throat and other cuts.
When he attempted to take Stevens into custody, the Sheriff was shot some seven times, his assailant having reloaded. He was taken to the Stovall Hospital, where he died the next morning. Sheriff Adkins had returned fire and ultimately, when Stevens was apprehended, he was found to have been hit in the arm and chest. His deputies sought medical care for both. He was taken under guard to the King’s Daughters HOspital in Ashland,. Once it was thought he would survive his injuries, murder charges were placed against Stevens.
A photo purported to be Sheriff Adkins and his wife.
Once Stevens was discharged from the hospital, in mid-September, he was taken to the Morgan County Jail in West Liberty for safekeeping. He was to also stand trial there, having received a change of venue. At trial, he testified that he didn’t know Adkins was a peace officer as it was dark at the time. He claimed he “had some trouble earlier in the day and I thought it was somebody else.” Deputy Lige Keaton and Constable Tom Geralds, who were with him, stated that the Sheriff recognized Stevens as he was working alongside the roadway and told him he was under arrest, and Stevens “shot him down.”
Stevens was convicted on November 19, 1947, and given a life sentence. (Some jurors had favored the death penalty.)
In short order, County Judge J. H. Williams appointed Randolph Adkins, Estill’s brother, to fill the office. Randolph Adkins resigned from his post as the Elliott County Agricultural Adjustment agency, to take the position, and reappointed his brother’s four deputies to continue to serve the county.
Sheriff Norman Estill Adkins, age 47, was buried in the Plez Clevenger Cemetery in Sandy Hook. His wife, Jennie, who survived him by many years, is buried with him. They were survived by several children and a host of siblings.
Before there was Men in Black, or even UFOs, there were little green men.
It all began in the evening of August 21, 1955.
It all started when the Sutton family, who lived on a farm near Kelly Station, now just known as Kelly, some nine miles north of Hopkinsville, claimed that a space ship with a dozen or more “little men” landed on their property and battled the occupants of the farmhouse. The adults and children of the family of Cecil “Lucky” Sutton came to the Hopkinsville Police Department, highly excited, with their tale.
Officers from Hopkinsville, Christian County and the Kentucky State police converged on the farm. Even a carload of military police from the nearby Army base showed up.
When the officers came to the house, a number of people were present, with stories that were, for the most part, consistent. First arriving officers noticed two flashes in the sky. The three young men of the Billy Ray Taylor, age 20, Sutton, age 26 and John Sutton, age 27, their wives, and Mrs. Glennie Langford, the mother of the two Sutton men, and O.T. Baker, the brother of one of the wives, along with four children, were present.
The witnesses stated that about about 7:20 p.m., they noticed an object that was “all lighted up” glide into one of the fields. They estimated it was about a quarter-mile away, and that it appeared from that distance to be about the size of a No. 2 washtub and egg shaped. (For reference, a No, 2 washtub hold 15 gallons, is about 10 inches high and has a diameter of 22 inches.) A little more than a half hour later, thought, several “shiny little men” appeared, walked to the rear of their house. Within moments, the house was surrounded with the small creatures “all over the place,” in the yard, the trees and even perched on the roof. Taylor emerged from teh house and one of the creatures grabbed at him. Lucky Sutton, armed with a single-barrel, 12 gauge shotgun, shot the little man from the roof. He was knocked down but not apparently harmed, and the entire group fled. But … they came back.
Over the course of about three hours, the “strange fellows” appeared some six times and each time, were run off by the shotgun and John Sutton’s .22 pistol. The latter claimed to have gone through four boxes, 200 rounds, of ammunition, but the shots had no effect, simply ricocheting off the little men like they would off steel plate. They described the men as 3 to 4 feet tall, shiny “like chrome, with arms to the ground, oversize hands, slick bald heads with big eyes and pointed ears. The skin on their faces was stretched. Mrs. Langford, present, got only a glimpse before she fainted and Mrs. Taylor hid in the house and never saw them at all. They finally piled into the car for the short trip to Hopkinsville.
Despite the claimed gun battle, there were only two spent cartridges in the area, and a shot through the window fired by Sutton through the screen. Although the Sutton women, and all of the men, returned to the home with the officers, the other women and the children chose to stay in town.
Law enforcement and military, and doubtless many locals, scoured the area for the little men, who had morphed into the little green men (although their color was not mentioned originally), to no avail. The only reported excitement occurred when a MP stepped on a family cat’s tail, and its indignant squawk sent everyone scurrying until they realized what had happened. Everyone agreed, however, that no drinking was involved. The law enforcement agencies, the military and astronomy professors never specifically said they were real, none totally denied it, either. One theory put forth was that what the family saw were monkeys that had escaped from a nearby circus train, but … they were likely not wearing little space suits at the time ….
The situation evolved when an Evansville, Indiana woman decided that one of the little green men had grabbed her leg while she was swimming in the Ohio River about the same time. She claimed a “hairy paw” had snagged her leg, which fit the description given that the little men were about three feet tall, with “eyes like saucers, hands like claws and glowing all over.” The woman claimed that she and her friend saw something shiny in the sky from the Kentucky side just minutes earlier
Needless to say, newspapers had the proverbial “field day” with the story, referring to the Suttons as the “earth people.”In due course, the Sutton family went commercial. They returned to the farm, installed a no trespassing sign, and began to charge admission -50 cents a look – to take advantage of the string of curiosity seekers. The town still does so, with an annual Little Green Men festival every August.
As reported in the Lexington Herald, “So, unless something for definite is established, the space ship story is still up in the air.”
On April 6, 1950, Kuttawa (Lyon County) Police Chief William Givens Burden, along with Trooper Louis Wilson Oliver, wen to the home of Joe Hoy Kevil, sometimes spelled Kivil, a railroad section hand, to serve a warrant on Kevil’s wife. The woman, unnamed in news reports, was charged with threatening a neighbor’s life and a warrant was issued by City Judge Allen D. Thompson for her arrest.
When the two arrived, Chief Burden went to the front door while Trooper Oliver headed toward the back of the house. The trooper heard the blast of a shotgun and rushed back, but himself came under fire from Kevil, who was armed with a shotgun. Kevil fired on Trooper Oliver, who took cover while returning fire, but he missed Kevil. One pellet struck him in the face but he was not seriously injured. Kevil fled from the scene. Trooper Oliver found Chief Burden inside, fatally wounded. Oliver returned to his vehicle and contacted the state police post at Mayfield by radio. All available troopers were dispatched to the scene. Bloodhounds from the nearby penitentiary at Eddyville (now the Kentucky State Penitentiary) were also dispatched to assist in the search. Within the hours, however, and as a posse was being formed, Kevil returned home and was taken into custody without resistance. Although feelings ran high, there was never any real threat of mob violence following his arrest.
Although he was initially placed in the Lyon County Jail, with his wife, he was moved to the penitentiary for safekeeping. He stood trial in August, 1950 and was convicted of manslaughter, with a sentence of five years. Nothing is known of his wife, however.
At the time of his death, Burden had been Chief for some two years. He had previously worked in Paducah as a park patrolman and as the Dawson Springs Police Chief as well. He was survived by a wife, estranged, and two children and is buried in the Fordsville Cemetery, in Ohio County.
At some point, Chief Burden had mentioned that he expected to “die with his boots on,” just as his father and brother had done. His father, James Burden, had served as the Fordsville Town Marshal, but had not died in a conventional “on duty” manner, having instead suffered a heart attack while on an errand. His brother, Walter Burden, was the Town Marshal of McHenry, in Ohio, Kentucky. In 1923, he was killed in a street duel, allegedly as a conspiracy between four men due to his attempts to enforce the bootlegging law. Marshal Burden was able to return fire and kill his assailant, and four other men were tried for conspiracy in the Marshal’s death. They were acquitted, however. Marshal Walter Burden, whose death was discovered while researching this post, has been submitted to the Officer Down Memorial Page.
Kentucky Cop Stories 