I ached with the loss of my dear friend. Its suddenness was cruel, as it always is. Its depth was so immense that I could not, at that time, imagine a recovery.
As the town slowly came to life below me, I walked to my desk, shoved some boxes out of the way, and sat down. I took my pen, and for a long time stared at a blank notepad. Eventually, slowly, with great agony, I began the last obituary.
Author’s note
Very few laws remain the same. Once enacted, they are likely to be studied, modified, amended, then often repealed altogether. This constant tinkering by judges and lawmakers is usually a good thing. Bad laws are weeded out. Weak laws are improved. Good laws are fine-tuned.
I took great liberty with a few of the laws that existed in Mississippi in the 1970s. The ones I mistreated in this book have now been amended and improved. I misused them to move my story along. I do this all the time and never feel guilty about it, since I can always disclaim things on this page.
If you spot these mistakes, please don’t write me a letter. I acknowledge my mistakes. They were intentional.
Thanks to Grady Tollison and Ed Perry of Oxford, Mississippi, for their recollections of old laws and procedures. And to Don Whitten and Mr. Jessie Phillips of The Oxford Eagle. And to Gary Greene for technical advice.