Buford Pusser, an iconic Southern sheriff from McNairy County, Tennessee, had spent the last 50 years being celebrated as a hero. His fame began with an early morning ambush which killed his wife, Pauline, and shot off the left side of his face.
Pusser always pointed to the State Line Mob in McNairy County. A year before the ambush, Pusser shot and killed the mob’s boss, Louise Hathcock. He argued that the crime gang had plenty of reason to kill him.
Two years ago, the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation, acting on a tip about the gun used in the crime, reopened the case and raised Pauline from her grave for a forensic autopsy. Their conclusion? Buford Pusser most likely killed his wife.
In the news conference, the spokesperson made a powerful statement: the dead can’t speak for themselves so it’s up to the living to speak for them.
On behalf of the Pussers’ only child, Dwana, who was discovered lifeless on her kitchen floor a few years ago, I’ll pass along her strong belief: Her father was completely innocent.
This belief was important to Dwana. She fiercely defended her father. Since her life was filled with incredible sorrow, I’ll share what she told me many years ago when I spent an afternoon with her in the diner she owned.
“There is no way that he killed her. He loved her.”
She was passionate in this belief.
Dwana’s life on this earth was tough. Her mother was murdered when Dwana was just starting school. Seven years later, her father died in her arms.
She was going to spend the night with a friend after leaving the county fair. Her father, coming home from a press conference where it was announced there would be a sequel to the wildly successful story of his life, Walking Tall, stopped by the fairgrounds to see his daughter.
“He just came by to give me a hug,” she told me. “I was in the car with my friend and her mother. We followed his Corvette out of the fairgrounds.”
Here’s another example of how unfair life was to Dwana Pusser: she watched in horror as her father’s car wrecked and exploded in flames. Her friend’s mother pulled their car over to the roadside. Dwana, about 13 years old at the time, jumped out and ran to the burning Corvette.
“I pulled him out of that car,” she said firmly. “People dispute that a child could rescue a big man (he was 6’6” and 250 pounds) but I did. I guess it was adrenaline.”
She thought carefully before she spoke in a voice that cracked. “He was tryin’ to tell me that he loved me. I held him in my arms, begging him not to die. But he did. I was holdin’ him in my arms when he took his last breath.”
If Dwana were alive and had to face the findings of the autopsy, based on modern science, I have no doubt that she would find a way to dispute them.
The press conference was scant in providing information. Should anyone want to view the complete 1,000-page report, it is available for viewing at the University of Tennessee-Martin.
I haven’t read the report, but I have a hard time reconciling that he shot off half his face and would spend the rest of his years, severely disfigured. Dwana talked about how neat he dressed and how good he always smelled. That kind of vanity doesn’t normally lead to destroying your face. Too, if he was crooked, why didn’t he get a mob member to kill his wife?
I feel an importance to quote Dwana who was no stranger to pain in her lifetime. She needed desperately to believe her father was a hero. Even though it’s hard to argue against science but I believe she would.
Because her hero died in her arms.
Ronda Rich is the bestselling author of the Stella Bankwell series. Visit rondarich.com to sign up for her free newsletter.