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National Rifle Association

My Great-Great-Uncle "Bus" Harmon
A Past Sheriff of Walker County, Georgia

Weymon F. "Bus" Harmon (9/14/1906 - 9/23/1971), a man known for always wearing Old Spice, was the Sheriff of Walker County, Georgia from 1949 to 1956 and again from 1961 to 1964. His father, Lambert W. Harmon (7/27/1878 - 5/14/1945), had also been the Sheriff of Walker County from 1921 to 1928, and his grandfather, John W. Harmon (2/19/1852 - 2/28/1937), had been Justice of the Peace before him, so for at least 3 generations, the Harmon family was part of the law enforcement in Walker County Georgia, and the Harmon's were well-known to all.

Uncle Bus's personal sidearm was donated to the National Rifle Association's Firearms Museum Director Jim Supica on October 11,2018 by James David Burney along with a photo of Uncle "Bus". Additionally, the current Sheriff of Walker County Georgia, Steve Wilson, attended and donated a badge and signed murder warrant to accompany the firearm. Click here for photos of the donation and tour.

CLICK HERE FOR UNCLE BUS's REVOLVER (HIGH RESOLUTION PHOTOS)
In Holster | Left Side | Right Side | Butt | Frame Under Chambers Arm | Chambers

As can be seen in the photo at the top right, the portraits of the Harmons still hang in the main hallway of the courthouse, just outside the door of the Clerk of Courts office in Walker County Georgia. Sheriff "Bus" Harmon was married to Mary, but they had no children, so Uncle Bus's own personal sidearm was passed to my grandfather, James Barry Burney, and then to his son, Barry Lee Burney. I, James David Burney, acquired this snub-nosed S&W in 2017 from my father.

I have discussed the firearm with Doug Wicklund of the National Firearms Museum at the headquarters of the National Rifle Association and am presently attempting to obtain the historical information for Walker County Georgia that would "tell the story" of this Sheriff and his personal sidearm.

Sheriff "Bus" Harmon was
part of the investigation of
the Easter 1963 Lula Lake
Murders in Walker County
on Lookout Mountain
That Inspired a Novelist


The Frightening Real-Life Murders
That Inspired Cormac McCarthy’s
Spookiest Novel
"Child of God"

In her book Reading the World: Cormac McCarthy’s Tennessee Periodscholar Dianne C. Luce points out that McCarthy seems to have been influenced heavily by the 1963 so-called Lula Lake Murders on Lookout Mountain, outside Chattanooga, Tenn. The story goes that on Sunday, April 14, 1963, after finishing an Easter lunch with his family, 27-year-old James Blevins donned a camouflage suit and drove to Lookout Mountain to go “riding around” and spy on couples parked on the back roads having sex. He would later say that he had done this sort of thing since he was 15, and was embarrassed by the habit. According to the Rome News-Tribuneonce on the mountain that afternoon, Blevins parked his car and walked through the woods to Lula Lake, a modest-sized pool, fed by a mountain stream. There, Blevins came upon 16-year-old Carolyn Newell and her fiancé, 19-year-old Pete Steele, a popular Chattanooga Valley couple, sitting on the fender of Steele’s car. Blevins approached the young couple and talked with them, during which time, he later said, he got the impression that another couple was with them and somewhere nearby. Sometime after the initial encounter, Blevins returned to the car—presumably when Newell and Steele weren’t around—and let the air out of a tire, because “he thought if he stranded the car he could be able to ‘pick up’ the girls and ‘take them home,’” the News-Tribune reported.

No one knows for sure what happened next, but Newell and Steele didn’t make it home that evening.
The discovery of Steele’s abandoned car at Lula Lake the day after Easter set off a massive search for the couple, which concluded six days later, with a grisly discovery. Steele’s body was laced to a tree with binder’s twine and evidence indicated that he had been strangled, using the same twine and a short stick to tighten it around his neck,” the News-Tribune reported on May 8th, 1963. “Miss Newell’s body lay 100 to 150 feet away, her wrists held together by twine. Testimony at a coroner’s inquest indicated that she had been repeatedly raped, struck over the head, and then choked to death. Witnesses said she probably died several hours after Steele.” Newell’s clothing had been “shredded,” and she was naked from the waist down. Animals had eaten part of her leg.
In the days before the couple was found, Blevins had seemed unfazed, according to his ex-wife. But once Blevins read stories of the missing couple in the papers, he asked her to go with him to look for the couple. But she was scared and refused. He remarked that searchers were “wasting their time” dragging Lula Lake for the bodies and added, “They’re on the side of the mountain; they might still be alive.”
Other people had seen Blevins near Lula Lake that day, and after the discovery of the bodies, Blevins was picked up for questioning. He admitted to authorities that he had talked with the couple that day, but maintained that he knew nothing about the murders. He told reporters that he had returned home that evening and didn’t hear of the couple’s disappearance until the following Friday. Law enforcement was not convinced, and Blevins was held without bond. Blevins’s lawyer later conceded that his client was a “weakling,” a “sex degenerate”, and a “peeping Tom,” but not a murderer. After subjecting Blevins to a lie-detector test, a Georgia Bureau of Investigation agent said that the suspect had “guilty knowledge” of the couple’s murder, while another agent who conducted a second test said Blevins was “too emotionally disturbed” for accurate results.
The murders rocked Chattanooga, and the story went national; even the New York Times picked it up. Scholar Dianne C. Luce notes that at the time, Cormac McCarthy was living in Knoxville, just a couple hours up the highway from Chattanooga, where the local papers also covered the Lula Lake murders. Given how big the story was in East Tennessee and its parallels with Child of God, it seems likely that McCarthy was familiar with the case and drew on it for inspiration.
As for Blevins, he was found guilty of murder in May, 1964. But the decision was later overturned, and he eventually walked free. As a freeman, Blevins said that he intended “to go out in the world and make a good citizen.” He planned to rebuild his life, he said, though “it’s hard to do after all I’ve lost through this—work and healthy. But I believe I’m man enough to do it."

As can be seen from the high resolution photographs, this Smith & Wesson is a nickel-plated revolver on a J-Frame and is known as a Chief's Special pre-Model 36 five-shot revolver chambered in ".38 S&W SPL." and it is in exquisite condition.

The serial number is clearly visible on the edge of the chambers' wheel and on the butt, and is a five-digit number without a prefixed letter in both of those places (85XXX), but under the barrel the same serial number is preceded by the letter "N", making it a probable 1956 time-frame of manufacture.


Jim Supica, David Burney, & Steve Wilson

In addition to busting up mountain moonshine stills, Uncle "Bus" was Sheriff at the time of the Lula Lake Murders that captured the entire nation's attention at Easter 1963, and ultimately inspired a novelist for a super-scary novel set in the Appalachians. The author, Cormac McCarthy, said it was an "unnamed" notorious person that inspired his story, but as noted in the column at left, scholar Dianne C. Luce believes the "unnamed" notorious person is in fact James Blevins. His conviction was overturned in Blevins v State on appeal to the Georgia Court of Appeals. Online blogs of people who claim to be contemporaries of Mr. Blevins can be found where claims of his boasts (without fear due to prohibitions against "double jeapordy" when the second trial was dismissed on technicalities) can be found. Sometimes this case is used as a warning about the need for proper court procedures, else the defendant can "get off" on a technicality.

Smith & Wesson Chief's Special
pre-Model, 36 J-Frame, .38 S&W SPL.

In 1950, Smith & Wesson introduced a totally new compact, five-shot, .38 Special, snub-nose revolver at the International Association of Chiefs of Police (IACP) convention held in Colorado Springs, Colorado. The new J-Frame size was intended to fill a position between the slightly smaller I-Frame and the larger K-Frame, both dating from the late 1890s. The J-Frame was a happy marriage between the power of the K-Frame, in its typical .38 Special chambering, and the concealability of the I-Frame in the .32s of the era, and in a very astute marketing move the company allowed the convention attendees to name the new gun. Not surprisingly, among a delegation of police chiefs from all parts of the country, the winning designation was “Chief’s Special.”

The original Chief’s Special was a blued double-action/single-action (DA/SA) revolver with a thin 1.81-inch barrel, fixed sights, a casehardened trigger and hammer, a round-butt grip frame, a coil mainspring and checkered walnut grips. In 1957, when S&W decided to start using model numbers, it became the Model 36. An instant hit among chiefs and plainclothes cops who liked the .38 Special but not the weight or bulk of a Model 10 K-Frame with fixed sights or Model 15 with adjustable sights, civilian and LE buyers considered losing one round from a larger six-shot revolver as more than a fair trade for a very convenient package that carried well on the belt, in a pocket or on an ankle, and the J-Frame was quickly off and running.

Since 1950, the J-Frame has been—and still is—one of Smith & Wesson’s greatest success stories, and one of its best-selling frame sizes. That first Model 36 was followed by another milestone for the company when the Model 60 was introduced 15 years later in 1965 as the industry’s first regular production stainless steel revolver. The Model 60 mirrored the Model 36 in form, with the same dimensions (with the exception of a 1.88-inch barrel) machined out of stainless instead of carbon steel, and if you think the Model 36 was a winner right out of the gate, the Model 60 immediately created a backlog in orders not equaled until Dirty Harry came along with his .44 Magnum Model 29 in 1971. Waiting times ran up to six months at local gun shops, and the corrosion-resistant snubbie quickly became one of the most popular primary and backup carry guns in America.

The J-Frame was a natural for further development. Aluminum versions followed, sighted versions followed, longer barrels followed, “hammerless” versions followed, and the .357 Magnum caliber eventually followed. The complete list of J-Frame models that Smith &Wesson produced in the past 66 years is way too long to cover here, but two of the most significant early variations now considered classics in the “Snubbie Hall of Fame” are the Model 40 Centennial from 1952, with its totally enclosed internal hammer, and the Model 49 Bodyguard from 1959 with its integral hammer shroud. Both were blued steel models following the basic size of the Model 36, but with two different approaches to snag-free hammer designs for pocket carry and, if needed, pocket firing. Stainless variants of both were inevitable when S&W developed the manufacturing process for the Model 60; the Model 40 begat the 640 in 1990, and the Model 49 generated the 649 in 1985.

Today, with high-tech polymers being so popular, sometimes a look backwards shows what old school was like—and what old school can still do for us.

 

More to come...