Murder on Midland By Bill Case

Murder on Midland

The 1937 hunt for Juney Carraway’s killers

By Bil l Ca se

It was not uncommon for 48 -year- old tour ist camp operator Juney Car raway to vanish for days w ithout infor ming w ife L eoma, or anyone else, of his whereabouts. On one occasion the wander ing Juney had flow n the coop for months before reappear ing. T hus, it did not par ticularly alar m L eoma when her husband and t wo male lodgers did not make it back to Connecticut Camp by nightfall on Fr iday, Aug. 6, 1937. T he men had lef t the camp at 6:30 that mor ning in Car raway’s Chev rolet coupe.

Carraway t ypically carr ied hundreds of dollars in his bulging billfold — a habit he did not hide. As Sunday dawned and there was still no trace of her husband, L eoma became fear f ul Juney had become a tempting target for desperate men harbor ing bad intentions.

T he men who lef t Connecticut Camp with Carraway definitely checked the desperation box. Unkempt, with straggly hair and dir t y overalls, they had hitchhiked into the camp the previous Wednesday, arriving f rom par ts unknown. A n odd couple, the older of the t wo was in his late 20s, shor t, stock y, dark-haired and of swar thy complexion. He spoke with a distinct accent. T he younger man, around 20, was a lank y blond str ing bean.

Connecticut Camp, located on U.S. 1 bet ween the r ural hamlets of Pinebluf f and Hof f man, was rather la x when it came to the niceties of registration. T hough the dr if ters seemed f riendly enough to L eoma, she didn’t even know their names.

Fr iday wasn’t the first time Carraway had given his t wo g uests a lif t. T he day before he’d taken them in search of local employment — just the sor t of thing that better-of f folks did for the downtrodden dur ing the hard times of the Great Depression.

By Sunday af ter noon, a f rantic L eoma called the Moore Count y Sher if f ’s Of fice and repor ted her husband missing. T he depar tment promptly posted an all points bulletin urg ing area law enforcement personnel to be on the lookout for Car raway, his Chev y coupe, and the t wo dr if ters.

Like most Aug ust days in the Sandhills, temperat ures on Sunday, Aug. 8, flared into the 90s. Swan Pond, a local swimming hole that exists to this day, is located approximately a quar ter-mile nor th of Midland Road, and a mile west of dow ntow n Souther n Pines. A handf ul of boys seek ing relief f rom the swelter ing heat in its cool water noticed a Chev y coupe parked on the pond ’s nor th shore, far f rom any road or dr iveway. At first, the swimmers paid no attention to it, but when the car still had not moved in succeeding days, one of the lads mentioned it to his father, who notified law enforcement.

Sher if f ’s deput y Charles Dunlap made his way to the abandoned vehicle dur ing the late af ter noon of Tuesday, Aug. 10. His search of the auto found Car raway’s personal papers scattered on the car’s floor. Other evidence suggested something more sinister had taken place. T here was a bullet hole in the lef t side window, another in the car’s hood, and a spent .22 caliber bullet rested on the f rame of the motor. T he whereabouts of Car raway and his t wo passengers remained unk now n.

Dunlap asked Aberdeen mechanic Jim R iley to tow Car raway’s auto f rom the pond to his garage’s storage lot. On the mor ning of Wednesday, Aug. 11, R iley caref ully maneuvered his tow tr uck through the dense pines to the abandoned Chev y. W hen he noticed the car’s r ight f ront tire and r im were missing, he went look ing for them. He found the tire just of f the edge of Midland Road. Vent ur ing deeper into the woods, he saw the r im. Near the r im he saw Juney Car raway’s badly decomposed body with a 5 -inch bone-handled k nife and a sandbag alongside the dead man.

Count y coroner Carl Fr y hur r ied to the scene. A f ter examining the body, he concluded that Car raway had been beaten about his head and body, dragged through the woods and k nifed through the hear t. Fr y found no evidence that g unplay had played a role in the attack. T he coroner estimated the murder had occur red on Aug. 6, the day Car raway depar ted his Connecticut Camp for the final time.

Tire marks on Midland Road indicated that Carraway had been driving west toward Pinehurst when he lost control of the car. It veered over the median across the eastbound por tion of Midland, careening through shr ubber y on the double road ’s south side. Still in motion, the Chev y swer ved back across the median and the westbound roadway before sideswiping a tree, dislodging the tire f rom the rim.

One of Car raway’s passengers, it was suspected, had str uck him over the head with the sand bag, causing the car to swer ve wildly. W hen the car stopped, it appeared as though the da zed Car raway managed to open the dr iver-side door and t umble out in an ef for t to ward of f, or flee f rom, his attackers. W hether they str uck him again or not, Car raway must have lost consciousness because the t wo assailants were able to drag him away f rom the road into the woods, where he was stabbed to death. T he k illers managed to move the Chev y through the trees to the edge of Swan Pond. T hen they disappeared.

Given a five- day head star t, Moore Count y Sher if f C.J. McDonald k new it would be no easy task to track the k illers. T he 45 -year- old McDonald was a seasoned law man. A for mer state highway super visor, he had been elected sher if f in 1928 and ear ned a reputation as an indefatigable detective. T he Pilot wrote, “Once he (McDonald) catches the scent of an evildoer, he follows it relentlessly no matter where it leads. No detail is too minor, no distance too far when the quar r y is at the end of the line.”

A nd the sher if f was no stranger to sensational cases. In 1929, he had brought to justice Granville Deitz, the r unaway k iller of Souther n Pines’ police chief, Joseph Kelly. But the finding of Juney Car raway’s murderers would take all the resolve McDonald could summon.

A f ter receiving Fr y’s inquest findings, McDonald launched what would event ually mor ph into an inter national manhunt. With the help of his most tr usted deputies, A.W. L amber t, Her man Gr imm and Dunlap, by late Wednesday af ter noon (Aug. 11), the of ficers had inspected the murder scene, inter viewed witnesses at Connecticut Camp, and transpor ted evidentiar y items to R aleigh for forensic analysis and finger pr inting. Because it had rained in the inter vening time bet ween the murder and the discover y of Car raway’s body, finger pr ints on the k nife and other key ar ticles had been washed away.

News of the murder spread rapidly through the Sandhills. W hen Pinehurst ta xicab dr iver Joe Hensley lear ned details of the cr ime on T hursday, Aug. 12, he contacted the sher if f. He said t wo men matching the suspects’ descr iptions had show n up at his Pinehurst ta xi stand around 10 a.m. on Fr iday, Aug. 6. T hey inquired whether Hensley could dr ive them to R aleigh in time to ar r ive there by noon. T he men explained they were pick ing up t wo motorcycles that had been shipped to the cit y, and “they wanted to get there as quick ly as possible to pick them up.” T he t wo claimed they were star ting new jobs and the cycles were going to ser ve as their transpor tation.

Hensley’s fares rarely vent ured outside Moore Count y, so the longhaul request sparked his cur iosit y. He asked the men why they didn’t take the train. “We don’t like to r ide on trains,” was the response. Hensley quoted a $15 fare for the tr ip. Eyeing the shabby appearance of the duo, the cabbie insisted on payment up f ront.

On the way to R aleigh, Hensley stopped for food at a filling station in Cameron. W hen the passengers got out of the cab to stretch their legs, Joe saw the outline of a g un in the hip pocket of one of them.

With alar m bells clang ing in his mind, Hensley paid close attention to what the t wo men said and did. T he older, darker complexioned man (Hensley suggested perhaps he was of Italian her itage) talked constantly and with a distinct accent. Joe obser ved the man was missing par t of a forefinger. T he younger 6 -foot sidek ick, with long blond hair combed straight back, said he hailed f rom Boston. Hensley noticed the tall man’s oversized foot wear and wondered whether they were “convict shoes.” Both were defensive about their rough appearance, assur ing Hensley they would get cleaned up as soon as they ar r ived in R aleigh. T he lank y blond made mention of having spent time “in Reading.” T his aside would become a key — though initially misunderstood — clue. Hensley dropped the men of f in R aleigh (not at a motorcycle dealership), and thought nothing f ur ther of the matter until lear ning of Car raway’s murder.

Sherif f McDonald instr ucted his deputies to contact ever y motorcycle shop in R aleigh and neighboring counties. A Greensboro dealer repor ted that a young man answering the lank y blond ’s description had entered his shop and bought a motorcycle on Aug. 9. T he buyer was tracked down and apprehended on the 15th. Af ter learning that

tion of the darker, fast-talk ing suspect, it momentarily appeared that the case might be wrapped up. T hat possibilit y disappeared when the men provided ironclad alibis. Both had been in A lbany on Aug. 6.

By the end of Aug ust, the investigation had stalled. McDonald sat for an inter view with a repor ter f rom T he Pilot on Sept. 1 and was unable to of fer much comfor ting infor mation. He ack nowledged that Boston’s police depar tment, contacted thank s to Hensley’s information, had yet to repor t any thing usef ul. Several other leads had proved to be dead ends. One was a r umor that a woman staying at Connecticut Camp had bef r iended the suspects. In fact, she’d never laid eyes on them. A nother resulted in the ar rest of an Italian man in Durham who, af ter questioning, was quick ly released. A promising lead involving t wo Nor folk, Virg inia, suspects also fizzled. Despite McDonald ’s distr ibution of 50 0 wanted posters to police depar tments across the easter n United States, the identit y and whereabouts of the suspects remained unk now n.

In search of a new angle, the sher if f brainstor med with his deputies. T hey had all assumed the suspects entered the Sandhills on the day they ar r ived at Connecticut Camp. W hat if the men had been locked-up in the count y jail, an ever-present occupational ha zard for train-hopping hoboes? McDonald summoned the jailer to his of fice. He remembered t wo New York Cit y g uys, f r iends with one another, matching the suspects’ descr iptions. Convicted of hoboing, James DeGr uiccio, age 25, and A lber t W hit wor th, age 22, had ser ved 60 day sentences in the Moore Count y jail pr ior to being released f rom custody on July 4th, a month pr ior to the Car raway murder.

If the men had indeed k illed Car raway, it seemed log ica l to McDona ld they would hightail it back to their hometow n. On Sept. 17, he jour neyed to New York Cit y to confer w ith of ficers in the N Y PD’s homicide unit. In the meeting, the police captain in charge ag reed to assig n undercover plainclothesmen to find DeGr uiccio and W hit wor th.

A f ter ret ur ning to Car thage on Sept. 19, the sher if f complimented the N Y PD. “T hey have a real police force,” he ef f used, “and if the men can be found I think they will find them.” Reflecting McDonald ’s optimism, the Sept. 24 edition of T he Pilot car r ied the headline “Sher if f Confident of Ar rests in Murder Case.”

McDonald ’s faith in New York Cit y’s finest proved justified. DeGr uiccio and W hit wor th were identified and ar rested. T he Oct. 1 edition of T he Pilot hailed the news: “Hats of f to police author ities of Moore Count y and New York Cit y in the apprehension of the prob able murderers of J.E . Car raway.”

T here was one last for malit y to address before the sher if f could declare the case solved: a positive identification by Joe Hensley that the men in custody were the same men he had transpor ted to R aleigh. Hensley ag reed to go to New York with deputies L amber t and Gr imm to make the identification.

A lineup including the t wo suspects was arranged. Hensley did, indeed, pick DeGr uiccio and W hit wor th out of the grouping, but then the cabdriver added: “T hey look enough like the men I carried to be their t win brothers, but I’m positive they are not the same men.” W hen the t wo suspects later f urnished evidence confirming their presence in New York on Aug. 6, they were released. Another dead end.

T he news f rom New York was a bitter pill for McDonald. Remember ing that the lank y blond suspect had mentioned “Reading” in the course of the cab r ide to R aleigh, McDonald suggested that L amber t and Gr imm stop in Reading, Pennsylvania, on their way home. Perhaps that cit y’s police depar tment could provide a lead. T he detour proved just as f r uitless, and the deputies ret ur ned to Car thage disappointed and empt y-handed.

T he sher if f was back to square one. McDona ld deter mined there was one more g round ba ll to r un out before suspending his investigation. He wanted to conduct a fina l, ex haustive inspection of Connecticut Camp, even though t wo months had passed since the murder, and a search of the premises seemed an exercise in f utilit y. T he deputies reexamined ever y inch, focusing at last on a massive trash heap located behind the camp’s cabins. A f ter hours r ummag ing through the foul ref use, one of the of ficers came across a sma ll scrap of paper bear ing a smudged and barely leg ible name and address that read:

Bill Sommers 249 Forest St. Reading, Mass. It wasn’t Pennsylvania at all, but Massachusetts, and Reading hap

pened to be a suburb of Boston — the cit y where the lank y blond told Hensley he once lived. Deput y Gr imm was dispatched to Reading, Massachusetts, where he found and inter viewed Bill Sommers, who operated a motorcycle store there. Sommers recalled that t wo men matching the descr iptions of the k illers had visited his shop and discussed acquir ing motorcycles for a tr ip south, but had lef t the store without mak ing a purchase.

Gr imm passed the new infor mation on to Reading’s police depar tment. A n of ficer there thought the tall blond who had visited Sommer’s shop might be 19-year- old Rober t Svendsen, who he believed resided in the neighbor ing tow n of Somer ville with his mother, Lily Svendsen. T he Reading police visited Lily, who said her son had recently moved to Hamilton, Ontar io, where his father lived.

With Svendsen in Canada, Gr imm conf ronted matters involving inter national law and extradition. It would require complicated paper work to ar rest Svendsen for a cr ime committed in the United States and, af raid the young man might flee, Gr imm convinced Hamilton police to ar rest him for vag rancy and hold him on that charge until the deput y was able to obtain author it y for an ar rest for the U.S. murder.

Dur ing the second week of Januar y 1938, Gr imm lef t Boston, crossed the border into Canada, and headed for Hamilton to interrogate Svendsen. T he young man admitted involvement in the cr ime, and seemed relieved to do so, but maintained it was his confederate, “Gr if fith,” a Canadian of French and Native A mer ican descent (not Italian), who had smashed Car raway over the head and k nifed him.

Svendsen said he had been totally st unned by the unexpected violence. He claimed to have had no ink ling that Gr if fith intended to either hur t or rob Car raway. T he k illing made no sense to him, especially, he said, since Car raway had been doing the t wo a favor by g iving them a lif t to Pinehurst. Svendsen confessed he helped cover up the cr ime by dragg ing Car raway into the woods, but only did so because Gr if fith pointed his pistol at him. Svendsen did not t ur n dow n the $75 Gr if fith gave him, a small por tion of the loot removed f rom Car raway’s billfold.

Svendsen said he and Gr if fith separated af ter the cab r ide to R aleigh and, with his share of the money, bought new clothes, shoes

and a motorcycle, then headed nor th. In Baltimore, the gangling youth collided with a streetcar and sustained a k nee injur y that laid him up in the hospital for several week s. Following his recover y, he continued on to Somer ville to visit his mother before heading for Canada, where he had been scheduled to star t a new job in Hamilton on, as it t ur ned out, the day af ter his ar rest.

T he young man also provided details regarding his association with Gr if fith. T hey had k now n each other for only a week before jour neying together to Spr ing field, Massachusetts, where they spent a night at the house of Gr if fith ’s family. A f ter ward, the t wo made their way south by var ious means: in an old jalopy (which they sold in Baltimore), r iding a train and hitchhik ing.

Svendsen waived extradition and Gr imm transpor ted him to Car thage to await tr ial. W hen Spr ing field police were unable to locate Gr if fith ’s family residence — let alone Gr if fith himself — Svendsen was asked whether he would be able to find the house where they’d spent the night. He thought he could. In fact, he was eager to assist the police, since Gr if fith had brought him nothing but trouble. With Svendsen in tow, Gr imm and Dunlap made yet another tr ip to New England.

It took an entire day of meander ing through the streets of Spr ing field, but Svendsen finally pointed out the house. Gr if fith ’s family no longer resided there, however, having moved to Canada. In check ing with neighbors, the of ficers discovered that the family’s name wasn’t, in fact, Gr if fith at all — it was Caron. T he neighbors were familiar with Svendsen’s swar thy accomplice. His real name was Jean Baptiste Caron, an erst while circus roustabout and tailor. Svendsen was flabbergasted that Caron had used an alias but there was a plausible reason for the deception — Jean Baptiste Caron had a leng thy cr iminal record.

Now that the police k new Caron’s act ual identit y, he became easier to track. Soon, an array of Canadian law enforcement entities, including the Nor thwest Mounted Police, were nipping at his heels. Caron presumably sensed law enforcement was catching up to him because he hopped a f reight train in Halifa x, Nova Scotia, and rode it 750 miles before getting of f in Waterloo, Quebec. Word of Caron’s cr ime traveled faster than the train did, however, and provincial police were waiting to apprehend him.

A f ter receiving a teleg ram f rom Montreal advising of Caron’s capt ure, McDonald and Gr imm made ready for a tr ip to Canada to escor t the pr isoner, who had waived extradition, back to Moore Count y. T hey reached Montreal on Sat urday, Feb. 26, and ret ur ned with a handcuf fed Caron to Car thage, a little more than si x months af ter Car raway’s murder.

Charged with first- deg ree murder, there was a distinct possibilit y Caron could receive the death penalt y. His involvement in the br utal cr ime could not be ser iously disputed, and his cohor t had identified him as the act ual k iller. Caron could tr y avoiding the gas chamber by pointing the finger at Svendsen, but sweet-talk ing a jur y into believing that the 19-year- old had master minded the plot would have been a tall order for Clarence Dar row, let alone the local law yer defending Caron. Besides, Svendsen simply did not look the par t. T he Moore County News descr ibed the gangly youth as having “any thing but a k iller’s face.”

Nonetheless, Caron accused Svendsen of having done the k nifing that finished Car raway. But other statements he of fered tended to tighten the noose around his ow n neck. By claiming that Svendsen was in on the plan to k ill Car raway, Caron essentially ack nowledged his ow n conspirator ial role. He said that the younger man had prepared the sandbag for the attack, but then admitted being the one who str uck Car raway with it. Dur ing the per iod leading up to the tr ial, it became obvious that Caron had little confidence he could avoid a death sentence. T he Pilot repor ted he was busy negotiating the sale of his body for medical research.

T he tr ial began the last week of May. Caron did not take the stand, but Svendsen did. W hile the jur y members ack nowledged that the defendants had committed a dastardly homicide, they were unable to ag ree on the specific charges upon which to convict them. Accordingly, the judge declared a mistr ial. T he breakdow n of the jur y’s split votes indicated that Caron had narrowly escaped a first- deg ree murder conviction that would have exposed him to the death penalt y. Several jurors viewed Svendsen’s role more leniently. Two had been willing to let him of f with a charge of manslaughter. T he defendants were tr ied again in Aug ust. T his time Judge E .C. Bivens empanelled a special “blue r ibbon” jur y to hear the case. T he presentation of evidence mir rored the first tr ial and on Aug. 18 the jurors ret ur ned a verdict of second- deg ree murder for both men. Surely, Caron breathed a sigh of relief; Svendsen not so much. Judge Bivens issued the ma ximum sentence available to both men: 30 years impr isonment at hard labor. Sher if f McDonald and his deputies received high praise for their perseverance and ingenuit y in br ing ing Car raway’s k illers to justice. Without benefit of closed- circuit cameras, social media tip of fs, DNA or 21st cent ur y forensics, they had painstak ingly solved an intractable murder case. T he investigation had weathered a multit ude of dishear tening false leads before the long-shot trash bin search pro duced a paper scrap that cracked the case. Daring Detective maga zine car r ied a feat ure stor y detailing it all in its Febr uar y 1939 issue.

Charlie McDonald ’s illustr ious career as Moore Count y sher if f would continue for another 20 years. Deput y L amber t ser ved under the sher if f for that entire tenure. Her man Gr imm did not stay long, moving on to a position with the state A BC. Ironically, Gr imm would later r un for sher if f against his old boss. Like all Charlie’s challengers for the of fice, Her man lost. W hen McDonald finally removed his shield in 1958, his 30 -year tenure matched the longest of any sherif f in Nor th Carolina’s histor y. Two months af ter retir ing, he died.

Juney E . Car raway’s body lies in Nor tham Cemeter y, a pastoral g raveyard on the outer reaches of R ichmond Count y, his good deed on a hot Aug ust day trag ically punished. PS

P in ehurst re si d ent Bill Ca se is P in eStraw’s hist or y m an. He c an be re a ch e d at Bill.Ca se @th ompsonhin e.com.