Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, February 6, 1994 TAG: 9402060109
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: The New York Times
DATELINE: JACKSON, MISS. LENGTH: Medium
Byron De La Beckwith, 73, had avoided conviction in two previous trials in 1964, when all-white juries deadlocked. This time, nearly 31 years after Evers, the black civil rights leader, was shot to death outside his home near here, a jury of eight blacks and four whites delivered a unanimous verdict of guilty after six hours of deliberation.
The verdict closed an enduring chapter in a case that has been part of the civil rights lore of the South, emblematic of the violence and injustice that accompanied the drive to topple segregation.
Evers, the Mississippi field secretary for the NAACP, became one of the best-known martyrs for the cause, and his death had helped galvanize wide support in the North for the drive to secure basic civil rights for blacks in the South.
When word of the verdict spread, cries of joy echoed in the hallways outside the courtroom in the Hinds County Courthouse. But Beckwith showed no emotion.
The trial ended with surprising swiftness. The jurors, who had de Beckwith liberated for five hours on Friday and a little more than one hour Saturday, were led into the courtroom and stood in a single rank before Judge L. Breland Hilburn. They confirmed, one by one with nods of their heads, that they agreed with the verdict of guilty.
Beckwith, in a gray suit, stood motionless and silent, looking at the backs of the jurors' heads. After they were led out of the courtroom, the judge called Beckwith to the bench.
"By the mandate of the law, it is mandated that I sentence you to a term of life in prison," Breland said. As sheriff's deputies led the defendant from the courtroom, he nodded and raised his hand weakly in a waving motion.
Beckwith's wife, Thelma, shrieked and sobbed loudly after Beckwith had left the room.
Outside a short time later, Myrlie Evers, the widow of the victim, stood before reporters and warned that she was about to throw off the veil of composure that she had worn throughout the trial. She then broke into a smile, loudly shouted a cheer and raised a clenched fist to the sky in triumph.
"My God, I don't have to say `accused assassin' anymore," she said, flanked by her oldest son, Darrell, and her daughter, Reena. "Now I can say `convicted assassin.' "
She was at once happy and rueful, choosing one of Beckwith's own crude terms for blacks as she discussed the significance of the conviction.
"It sends a message that it is no longer open season on `jungle bunnies' " she said, accenting the last Evers two words. "Medgar's life was not in vain, and perhaps he did more in death than he could have in life. Somehow I think he is still among us."
Beckwith's two court-appointed lawyers, Jim Kitchens and Merrida Coxwell, could not be reached for comment on whether they would file an appeal. The potential exists because the Mississippi State Supreme Court in 1992 refused to consider a claim by Beckwith's defense that a new indictment of the former fertilizer salesman had violated his constitutional right to a speedy trial. The court said such an argument should be made after any new trial.
by CNB