Courthouse Capers

COURTHOUSE CAPERS
BY
Dwayne Garner

When I went to work in the probation department, I didn’t know I would meet my match as a practical joker. Joe Dan Fowler helped me get the job as a probation officer and became one of my best friends. He had been the county clerk for several years when I went to work there and became a confidant and advisor for a lot of people who worked with him. Many folks would go to him for legal advice instead of going to a lawyer because he knew the law, especially real estate law, and folks knew they could trust him.

I had only been working for a couple of weeks when Joe Dan asked me if I wanted to ride to Tyler with him to do some Christmas shopping. I didn’t realize anyone else waited until two days before Christmas to start shopping. I went with him and he asked me what I was looking for. I told him I needed to get something for Hazel, but that I needed to buy some shoes for myself. He said that would be no problem, he knew where a good shoe store was. He parked in front of the Bootery. Without me realizing this was a woman’s shoe store, I went in and started looking around. A nice lady offered to help us and I told her I was looking for a shoe we used to call a penny loafer in a size 11 ½, triple E. She looked at me a little weird and said she would have to go to the stock-room to check. I noticed she said something to one of her co-workers and they both looked at me and Joe Dan giggled. She came in about ten minutes later carrying about 53n shoe boxes. She was balancing them and looking around them, since they extended above her head. I was setting on a bench ready to try on the shoes and she opened a couple of the boxes and I noticed they had little bows and laces on them and I remarked that these looked like women’s shoes. She stated, “Sir, you are in a ladies shoe store, that’s all we have here.” I made out like I was in on the joke but he had pulled a good one on me.
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Joe Dan and I were on the elevator one day and Judge Richards joined us. The judge had been a justice of the peace for years and wasn’t real quick to pick up on things.

“What time did the sheriff say we were closing the courthouse today, Dwayne?” Joe Dan asked. By this time I had learned to pick up on his cue and become the straight man.

“He said he was closing down a t3:30,” I answered, not knowing where he was going with this. It was the middle of October and 30 degrees.

“What’s he closing the courthouse for?” the judge asked.

“Oh, we’ve got the awfulest cold spell fixin’ to hit you’ve ever heard of,” Joe Dan answered. “Sleet and ice and the roads are supposed to be froze over.”

“I’ll be dawg,” the judge said.

I got a call from Sheriff Brownlow about 3:30. “Aw right, what you boys got going’ on?” he asked. I really didn’t know what he was talking about because I didn’t even think about the judge taking us seriously. I told the sheriff I didn’t have anything going on.

“Oh yeah, you have,” he said. “Judge Richards just left out of here and he was wondering what I was still doing here. He had closed his office down because of the in-coming ice storm and he had let one of his secretaries off at three o’clock because she lived in 7-Points and would be heading right into the storm.” The sheriff got a chuckle out of it when I told him what had happened.

Joe Dan said he passed the judge’s house later that evening and the judge had a tarp thrown over his vehicle. It was sunny and 30 degrees the next day. I don’t think we got a hard freeze all winter. The judge never did say anything. I guess he thought the storm missed us.
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My office was on the third floor and Joe Dan’s was directly below mine on the first floor. I tied a string to a coffee can just long enough to reach his window. We would get someone in our office who thought they were hot stuff and interrupt the conversation by writing a note, placing it in the bucket and dropping it down to his office. When it got to the bottom, it would bang on his window and Joe Dan would answer the note, jerk on the string and I would pull it back up. We would tell this high-faluting’ people the phones wee not working properly and this was our means of communication. They would think we were absolute hicks.
The auditors from Austin had just completed an audit at Joe Dan’s office and they were briefing him in his office. I knew this and thought it would be a good time to send him a message. He said he noticed the bucked hitting on the window but tried to ignore it and maybe the big wigs from Austin would not notice it. He said he walked to the opposite side of the room from the window so they would have their backs to it.
After several minutes of banging, the chief auditor asked Joe Dan, “What $%#% is that?”

“Aw the old phones are not working right and that’s the probation office sending me a message,” Joe Dan answered. He went over, took the note our of the bucket, acted as though he was writing something on the paper, placed it back in the bucket and tugged on the string and up went the bucket.

“That’s the $%& thing I’ve ever seen,” the auditor said. “I’m going to write that down.” I’m sure he reported back to his cronies in Austin that he had just inspected Hickville, USA.
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Me, Joe Dan, Sheriff Charlie Fields, and County Attorney Allen Boswell went to a Rangers game. It was double header to make up a rain out against the Yankees. Between games, me and Joe Dan decided to get some soda-water. There as a long line at the concession stand and we got right behind a falling down drunk. Joe Dan poked him on the shoulder and him if he knew what time the meeting would start.

“What kind of meetin’ you talkin’ ‘bout man?” the drunk asked.

“Well, we’re here for the Southern Baptist Convention,” Joe Dan said.

“Wha’ $&%#, man you’re at a ball game!” the drunk slurred.
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Another good buddy of mine, Bob Liles, worked with us for several years. Bob was proud to be a member of the Navy Reserves. During the Gulf War, he was scared to death he was going to be called to active duty. He was coming up with all kinds of excuses why he shouldn’t be called. He had kids in school, he was in the process of moving and several other things. Every day, he would bring this subject up. I, being retired military, couldn’t understand why he was so against going to serve his country when that was the primary purpose of the military. We decided to get him out of his misery. I got the name of his commander and navy organization’s address and made up a letter and had the auditor’s office fax it to our office. It had all the Navy heading, the commander’s name and looked very official. It was directing him to report for active duty and telling him when he would be sent to the Gulf region. He was back at the coffee bar drinking coffee when the lady from the auditor’s office handed him the fax. He got about half way through it, turned as white as a sheet, spilled his coffee and started shaking his head.

“They got me folks,” he said. He left the office and went to the school where his wife was teaching and told her. We let it go a little too far. He forgave us, but she never did. But he didn’t bring the subject up after that.
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We used to eat at the Ice House Restaurant in Athens a couple times a week. We would aggravate the waitresses but thy enjoyed it. One day at lunch, a new waitress was on duty. Joe Dan was growing a beard and had his old clothes on and looked a little like a street person. Me, him and Allen were talking about nursing homes when the new waitress came over.
“I heard y’all talking about nursing homes,” she said. “My daddy-in-law is in the Athens Nursing Home.”

“Well, this is our dad and we have him in one in Frankston and we try to get him out every Friday and bring him to lunch. He’s real hard of hearing and his memory is gone so you’ll have to talk real loud to him and don’t pay any attention to him if he gets out of line.”

“Bless your heart,” she said in a loud voice, patting him on the shoulder. She went to get our drinks and Joe Dan went to get dessert. He likes to eat his dessert with his main meal. When the waitress returned, he was not at the table. She looked all around with a worried look on her face. I told her that he thought he had already eaten his main meal and was at the dessert bar. She met him half-way between the bar and the table. He had a piece of pie in one hand and cake in the other. She stopped right in front of him and took the desserts from his hands.

“No, no, no,” she said. “You haven’t eaten your meal yet.” She was talking so loud everyone in the restaurant could hear her.

“Oh, I hadn’t?” he answered and sauntered back to the table.

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This next one nearly back-fired on us. We were lucky that someone didn’t get shot or, at least, whupped.

Janet Dowell Fulgham was a secretary at the courthouse and we had a secretary named Barbara. Both of them were scared of their shadows. Gale Finch was the county agent and he liked to play a practical joke as well as I did. He came into my office and had a paper sack with a mechanism inside of it that when triggered would make a loud scratching noise, like something was trying to get out of the sack. We decided to scare Janet with it, not knowing we would be able to get Barbara too. They were getting on the elevator and Gale threw the sack in about the time the doors were completely shut and yelled, “Rat!”
We still don’t know how they got out of the elevator because the doors were all but closed, but they did and they were kicking and screaming. I looked around and Gale was gone.

We were right in front of the district attorney’s office and he had a secretary we fondly called Miss Kitty. Her name was Audra and she was red headed and mean. She thought she ran the courthouse.

“What is going on out here? Don’t you all know this is a place of business?” she yelled.

“I just walked up. These girls were in trouble and I was just trying to help,” I said

“Well, this kind of stuff has just got to stop and I’m calling the sheriff,” Audra said.

Sheriff Brownlow called me and I told him what had happened. He thought it was funny but he told me that he told Audra that he would put a stop to it.
We should have let it end there but didn’t. Everyone in the courthouse had heard about it and it had been made a bigger deal than it was. E. Ray Andrews came into my office and told me that Audra was still mad, not only at me but she had heard that the sheriff had gotten a kick out of it and she was mad at him too. We knew that the sheriff and Audra’s husband didn’t like each other so we decided to call the sheriff pretending to be Audra’s husband and chew him out.

E. Ray called and said, “Sheriff, this is Bob Canteberry and I’m telling you that if you don’t get some control over the workers at that courthouse, someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Aw them boys just havin’ a little fun. No danger of anyone getting’ hurt,” the sheriff answered.

“Well you lied to my wife by saying you were going to do something and if you don’t I’m going to hurt you,” E. Ray said.

“What’s ‘at?”

“You heard me. You come down here and I’ll kick your butt.”

“You tell me where you at and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I’m at my shop out here at the ‘Y’”

Slam! The sheriff slammed the phone down.

E. Ray looked at me with a scared look on his face and said we had better catch the sheriff before he takes off. We rush down the stairs to the second floor and he’s just leaving his office. His face is beet red.

“Hey sheriff, we was just joking.” E. Ray said.

“You boys don’t do that. You gonna get somebody hurt,” he said as he walked back into his office. He was aggravated at us for awhile but not for long.
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Me, Allen and Joe Dan were eating in a fancy restaurant before going to a Ranger Game. I had a pair of industrial shades that were the wrap around type and looked like something a blind man would wear. Joe Dan wore them inside the restaurant. It was a dimly lit place to start with. When the waitress came over I told her that our dad (Joe Dan) had recently had cataract surgery and the lights were killing him. She told me she would see what she could do. A couple of minutes later she had dimmed the lights so we could barely see our plates. I could hear the other customers complaining but they ate in darkness.
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A bunch of us were coming back from lunch on a run-down street in North Athens. I see this black kid chasing a girl and she ran into a shed. Joe Dan is talking and didn’t see what was going on. I stop the car and tell Joe Dan to roll his glass down and ask the guy if he needs any help.

“Help with what?” he asks.

“That guy is chasing a hog trying to get it in that shed,” I answered. Joe Dan rolled down the glass and the guy was about 20 feet from us.

“Can we help you that hog penned up?” he yelled.

“I’ll have you know that ain’t no hog, ’at’s my wife,” the young man angrily yelled back. We made a quick exit.
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Joe Dan and I made the mistake of buying some old houses that we rented out. We rented one to Shorty Tyler. Shorty stood all of about 4’6” and was a real worry wart. He was coming to the courthouse every day to see me or Joe Dan with some problem or to borrow money. If he came to see me, I would send him to Joe Dan and, if he came to Joe Dan first, he would send him to me. Joe Dan finally told him not to come back in his office again.

I found out it was Joe’s birthday and Shorty came in and I asked him if he wanted to make $10.00 Of course he did. I told him we were going to surprise Joe Dan on his birthday by placing himself (Shorty) in a box. When Joe came back in I was going to hit on the box twice and that was Shorty”s cue to jump up from the box and yell, “Happy Birthday! I’m back!”

We had it all set with the help of the ladies who worked for Joe Dan. We caught him out of the office, placed Shorty in the box, wrapped it and waited on Joe Dan. He never did like presents or any recognition and was reluctant to open the box. I hit on the box twice and Shorty busted through the top just like he was supposed to but, forgot what he was supposed to say. Instead he yelled, “BOO!” That made the joke even better and Joe Dan and Shorty were friends again after that.
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I had been working at the courthouse for about a year when Joe Dan told me we were going to pull a good one on a guy that had been before the court several times and nothing had been done and the guy thought he could get away with murder. Joe Dan had found out the judge was going to be late and got this defendant, charged with Public Intoxication, to come in and plead his case before another judge (me). I reluctantly agreed to act as judge and Joe Dan was acting as County Attorney. I came into the courtroom and sat at the judge’s bench.

“Your Honor, this is Lester Givens and he’s charged with Public Intoxication,” Joe Dan announced.

“Do you plead guilty or not guilty to this charge, Mr. Givens?” I asked.

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

“What penalty do you recommend, Mr. Prosecutor?”

“I recommend this man be put to death by lethal injection, Your Honor.”

The guy’s knees buckled.

“Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute.” The defendant yelled. “You got the wrong man here. I didn’t do nothing but get drunk! You better please check them papers again. That shore can’t be me!”

“Hold on Your Honor. I’ve got the wrong file here and besides Judge Reagan wanted to sentence this guy,” Joe Dan said.
We heard later that Givens quit drinking.
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Jim Graves was my boss and we were always pulling something on him He drove in from Palestine and me, him and Joe Dan went to lunch. I told Joe Dan how un-conscious Jim was and I would prove it. We drove back to the courthouse square and Jim was telling one of his war stories and I just kept driving around and around the square—probably twenty times around it—before Jim noticed and finally said, “Dwayne, there was several parking places right back there.”
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When I started working at the courthouse, there were some folks there that were as country as me. All good folks though. A lady worked in the District Clerk’s office, Juanita, who was crust and crass. She didn’t take anything off of anyone. A lawyer could come in and ask for a file or document and she might tell them to go find it themselves. Her favorite saying when she was aggravated was “Horse$%&#!” Mrs. Garner, the District Clerk, was on vacation and we decided to pull a good one on Juanita. It was in the ‘70’s and the foreigners were over-running us. They had more Iranians going to college at HCJC than Americans and they were always presenting a problem to the clerk’s office. Juanita didn’t like them at all. I gave her a call while Mrs. Garner was gone and told her I was a special agent for the FBI and needed a list of all the Iranians residing in Henderson County.

“&^%$! We don’t have that kind of information, mister,” she said.

“Well, is this the district clerk’s office?” I asked.

“Yes it is,” she answered in an aggravated voice.

“Well, it’s your responsibility to maintain those records.”

“Sir, I’m not the district clerk.”

“Well let me speak to the clerk.”

“She’s on vacation.”

“Well, let me speak to the deputy.”

“That’s me sir,” she answered getting more agitated all the time.

“Well then, it’s your responsibility to get me those names.”

“Sir, have you tried the sheriff’s office? He would be more apt to have that kind of information than we would.”

“No, I’m not going to call the sheriff. It is your responsibility to provide
these names and if you cannot, I can assure you that you will suffer the consequences of not providing them.”

“Well, I’m looking at the Ominous Act, dated December 7, 1941, that clearly states that the district clerk will maintain such records.”

“Well, I’ve never seen that paper. I’m going to see if the sheriff can help me and, if he can’t, you’ll just have to call back when the real clerk is here.” She hung up the phone.

She went to see the sheriff and, of course, he didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. Joe Dan said she was at an HCJC basketball game that night getting the names of all Iranians in attendance.
I had forgotten about the joke and was watching the Cowboys play the Super Bowl several months later when the phone rang. Hazel knows not to bother me with a phone call when the Cowboys are playing—especially in a Super Bow game but she said this lady insisted on talking to me. I couldn’t imagine who it could be.

“Hello,” I said.

“You *(&^&**(#$!” was the response.

“Who is this?”

“This is Juanita and I’ll get you back if it’s the last thing I do.”

I felt bad after she told me what all she had done to try and get those names, but she took it well and never did pay me back, thank goodness.
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The Justice of the Peace was arraigning some prisoners at the jail.

“Do you know what you’re charged with?” the judge asked.

“No sir, Your Honor,” the prisoner replied.

“You’re charged with Burglary of a Habitation,” the judge stated.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means you’ve committed this same crime several times,” the judge exclaimed.

“Well this is the first time I’ve been caught at it,” the prisoner said.
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The district judge was appointing lawyers for defendants who could not afford to hire one.

“Boone is there any reason you cannot represent Horway Thessins?” the judge asked.

“I don’t know judge, is he in the courtroom?”

“Mr. Thessins, come to the rail,” the judge ordered.The defendant came to the rail and stopped. Boone, without even getting out of his chair, looked back at him and asked in a loud voice, “What ju do boy?”

“Robbed the Fina Station,” Thessins answered. Everyone in the courtroom cracked up.

“That sounds like a judicial confession to me, Boone,” the judge said.

“The defendant will plead not guilty to this charge Your Honor,” Boone said, smiling.
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When a new employee was hired at the courthouse, we would try to make them feel at home by pulling some kind of practical joke on them. JoVanna went to work in the District Clerk’s office and someone called me to give her the proper welcome. She lived in the country and one of her favorite neighbors had been indicted for making and selling “speed.” I called her and told her I was the attorney for the defendant and I would need her testimony since she was his neighbor and would make a good character witness. I could tell by her voice that she was a little shook up and she told me she could not help me because she did not even know this man.

I told her I knew she was not being truthful because the man had lived near her for years and she had to know him. I told her I would subpoena her. She became enraged.

“Sir, I’m telling you I don’t know that man. I see him passing by my house but I have never even talked to him,” she said.

“Well, you had to know that he was not manufacturing dope. That’s what I want you to testify to,” I said.

“Now just how in the world would I know that?” she asked in an angry voice.

“Well you can smell that ‘crack’ cooking for miles away. Did you ever smell any strange odors?”

“Sir, I live on a farm and we own animals and there are all kinds of strange odors.”

“Well, besides the chickens and cows and birds and what ever else you own, did you smell any other odors?”

“No, I can’t say I did.”

“You’ve just proven my point. I will call you to testify.”

“Well, I won’t have anything to say,” she said.

I hung up the phone without saying anything else. I went down to the clerk’s office and she was livid. She was telling co-workers, judges and clients of the conversation with this over-bearing, no-good lawyer. We let her stew for awhile before telling her it was a joke. She took most things in stride after that.
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Jack Buttermore owned and operated the Ice House Restaurant. Everyone thought he was pretty much of a grouch. The courthouse gang changed his thinking. After awhile of dealing with us, he was a charmer. I called him one day and acted like a down and outer who had worked for him a short time as a dish washer. I told him I was in the employment office and needed to know when I worked for him because I was filing for un-employment. He didn’t take this well at all.

He told me there was no need to file a claim against him because he did not pay un-employment. I acted like I was angry and got onto him a little and told him I would file a law-suit against him.

“$%&^%$, you just do that,” he said. I told him if he didn’t pay, I would come there and beat his butt.

“Son, I’ll be right out here on this front porch, you just tell me what time you’ll be here.”

I told him to be waiting on me at 5:30. Me and Bob Liles and Lee Lingo went to the Ice House after work and Jack was leisurely sitting at the bar drinking a beer. He mentioned he had gotten a threatening phone call but did not tell us what it was about. His wife told us later that he spent that night going through his old files looking for that guy’s name.
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Willie was the maintenance man and Money worked for him Money was scared to death of Judge Reagan, the county judge. Money would come to our office nearly every morning and drink coffee and BS. He was in Jim Squyers office and I called acting as Judge Reagan and asked to speak to Money.

“Money, are you on the 3rd floor?” I asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Look out the south window. You see that big pecan tree? I want you and Willie to cut it down.”

“That big one?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“What we gonna’ cut it with, Judge?”

“There’s an axe and cross-cut saw in the storage room.

“Yes sir.”

“That jerk,” I heard him tell Jim after he hung up the phone. “He wants me and Willie to cut that @#% big tree down with a axe and saw. He’s crazy.”
He rushed down to the basement and was yelling at Willie.

“That *^%&^& judge done gone crazy, Willie. He wants us to cut that *%^* big pecan tree down with a axe and saw."

“What tree?” Willie asked.

“That *^%& big pecan tree on the south side of the courthouse.
“&*%$, I’ll talk to him about that,” Willie said.

They were heading for the judge’s office when I told them that Bob Liles had pulled the joke on them. They were going to get him but he was on vacation and they had cooled off by the time he returned.
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I’ve pulled a hundred practical jokes but the best was pulled on me. I was going through a pretty stressful situation in the office and was about half crazy. I walked out to where I had parked my car and it wasn’t there. This happened several times. I walked to the other side of the courthouse and there it was. When did I move it? I thought. I thought I was getting Alzheimer’s disease.

I noticed people watching me. I wondered what in the world was going on. After about two weeks, Lee Lingo told me he had an extra set of keys made and moved the car. Everyone in the courthouse was in on the joke but me. PAY BACK TIME.