We did not finish our work at the site by sundown; not by a long shot. In fact, by uncovering the four additional graves with the scraper, we added immeasurably to our work.
When the scraper had revealed the first of the additional graves, I’d hoped that would be enough to override the sundown deadline issued by Sheriff Judson. The sheriff had expressed his hostility by remaining off-site all day, though I had no doubt that he was kept thoroughly apprised of our progress by the deputy he’d posted at the scene. It seemed inconceivable that Judson could object to an extension of the deadline. Just to make sure, though, Riordan left at midafternoon for a five o’clock press conference with his boss, the state attorney for the Second Judicial Circuit. I didn’t see the press conference in person, but I did see a live video feed of it, on the large flat-screen monitor inside the mobile command post.
The event was impressive. Actually, it was more than impressive; it was downright astonishing. Standing in a courtroom of the Leon County Courthouse, alongside the state attorney, Chief Deputy State Attorney Clay Riordan, and the FDLE commissioner, was none other than Darryl Judson, the Lord High Sheriff of Miccosukee County. When the state attorney praised the multijurisdictional investigation currently under way in Miccosukee, Bremerton, and Apalachee counties, Sheriff Judson smiled tightly and nodded modestly. I heard a snort from beside me. “Unbelievable,” Angie said, and I had to agree.
The investigation—the very embodiment of interagency cooperation, according to the state attorney—had found eleven marked graves on the grounds of a former reform school in Apalachee County, and had found seven unmarked graves nearby in Miccosukee County. The state attorney introduced Riordan—whose attention to the case demonstrated the state’s unwavering commitment to the investigation—and Riordan spoke briefly. The eleven marked graves, he explained, appeared to be a small cemetery associated with the former North Florida Boys’ Reformatory. Familiar images flashed onto the screen: archival photos of the reform school, followed by photos Angie had taken yesterday of the crosses. “A preliminary investigation indicates that the marked graves contain the remains of individuals who died from illnesses or accidents at the school,” Riordan said, “including the tragic fire that occurred in 1967. But the seven unmarked graves,” he added—and here the video feed cut to photos taken at the scene no more than an hour or two before—“appear to contain homicide victims.” An intensive investigation of the graves by FDLE and local authorities was now under way, he said, as was yesterday’s slaying of Winston Pettis, a vigilant citizen who had alerted authorities to the existence of the clandestine graves.
Riordan concluded by praising the dedication and exemplary leadership of Sheriff Judson—at this, Angie feigned a retching noise, and several of her colleagues laughed and hooted—and expressing his confidence that the truth would be brought to light.
When we’d found the crosses, Vickery had predicted a shit storm. As it turned out, he’d correctly foreseen the form of precipitation . . . but he’d grossly underestimated the magnitude of the tempest. Then again, he’d made his forecast before we found the unmarked graves. The combination of the two finds—the photogenic, enigmatic crosses and the sinister, clandestine burial ground—created the perfect storm. An hour after the press conference, a small squadron of news helicopters appeared above the treetops—three from the direction of Tallahassee, plus two more from the west, perhaps Panama City or Pensacola. They hovered a few hundred feet off the ground, wheeling and jockeying for position, stirring up dust, anxiety, and anger on the ground. The pushiest of the pilots appeared to be lining up for a landing at one end of the site, until a young agent sprinted from the command post to wave him off. In short order the pilots apparently brokered an agreement among themselves, for the aircraft began taking turns circling the site. Eventually they backed off, either because they’d gotten enough footage for their newscasts or because the sun was going down or because someone at FDLE got on the radio and threatened the pilots with arrest.