Funeral Day for Barbara Johnson’s Daddy, “It was going to be me or him…”

June 26, 2009 at 5:21 am by thinkgoat  

Carter County, MO - This here’s a story about love, betrayal, and bloodshed. The setting is Carter County, Missouri nestled in the Ozark foothills in the Southeastern part of the state. Census reports state a little over half of the residents there have at least graduated from High School. I’ve been through that area, it’s beautiful – “God’s” country.  And the one thing that’s generally coupled with unspoiled land is unrefined inhabitants. By “unrefined” I mean hillbillies. The movie Deliverance could very well have been filmed in Carter County had Georgia been struck with some sort of plague.

Barbara Johnson

Meet Barbara Johnson (51) and her boyfriend, Harvey Edward Cookston (67) of Ellsinore, population 363.  Barbara and Harvey had been boyfriend/girlfriend for about 22 years. I guess that’s pretty much considered “common law” back in those parts – only if they weren’t already related. They’d been shacking up together in a cute little trailer on Carter County Road 321. And their morning, June 23rd, started out pretty damn bad.

Harvey must have been some catch. He was well known as a gunsmith and a good friend to everybody as described by his neighbors. A good friend to everybody but maybe Barbara’s daddy, who was set to be buried that morning. And Harvey didn’t like that one bit. That asshole was manipulating her time even in his death. And because of that, a fight ensued. Harvey was plain out and out telling her she couldn’t go to that funeral. There ain’t no sense in it no-how, he’s already fuckin’ dead. Know what I mean?

Pissed off as an old wet hen, she stomped herself down that hallway and into the bathroom to fetch her gun. (Um, one that he gave her and more than likely made) Maybe she just looked at the purty thing cause she stomped back into the living room without it. She must have thought those few seconds were gonna be enough to make him change his mind. Nope. He didn’t. So she stomped back into the bathroom and, as she told the cops, “It was going to be me or him and I decided it was going to be him.” Fuckin’-A girl, way to make a decision!

Barbara ran barefoot to a neighbor’s house to tell them what she had done. She done shot him! And hell, that neighbor went back with her! I can only imagine that conversation. (“Fuck I ain’t kidding, see? Poke ‘im a bit, he ain’t gonna move, he’s deader than owl shit”) Guessing they were smart enough to surmise Harvey was dead, they decided to call upon the deputies just to make sure.

It’s heartwarming to know someone in that area fell into the “educated with a high school or higher” criteria, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t Trooper A.D. Ladd. (OMG, this is a must read: probable cause statement) Barbara told Trooper Ladd “I think I shot him twice”. Not wasting anytime, Ladd placed Barbara into the front seat of his squad car and transported her ass to the Carter County’s Sheriff’s Department to await warrants from the Carter County Prosecutor.

Autopsy reports state Harvey Cookston was shot three time with the same .22 caliber revolver he gave Barbara “a while back”.  Prosecutor Ernie Richardson (check out the big brain on him!) states, “I have seen enough evidence that has been gleaned in this case to know that I am filing first-degree murder. There was apparently premeditation and deliberation in it when this occurred.” Wow, “gleaned”. I know people with dictionaries were busy ‘splainin what that word meant.

Barbara, I’m sorry you had a bad mornin’ darlin’. You should have just walked the fuck out…or pointed your gun in the fucker’s face if he tried to stop you. Now poor Harvey’s dead and you’re fucked.

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