Tuesday, January 21, 2014

"Murder ... and the Rest of the Story"


Arlon Elwood "Jackson" Ball, after his discharge from the military.
MURDER … AND THE REST OF THE STORY

OCTOBER 2012 & JANUARY 2013

THE ORIGINAL ARTICLE RAN IN OCTOBER 2012 IN THE REDOUBT REPORTER. WHEN MORE INFORMATION SURFACED, WE UPDATED THE STORY IN JANUARY 2013. FOR THE SAKE OF COHERENCE, I HAVE MERGED THE TWO PARTS HERE.
On Saturday, Oct. 12, 1968, in the North Kenai cocktail lounge known as Larry’s Club, officer David Ulfers of the Alaska State Troopers arrived at about 3:30 a.m. to find one man moaning near the entrance and another man lying face-up near the bar.

The man near the door was Larry Edwards, and he was fresh from a fight. The man on the floor was local rowdy, Jackson Ball, and Ulfers reported that Ball had a hole in his neck and was bleeding heavily. Within a short time, Ball would be dead.

According to the Cheechako News, Ball was 46 years old. According to the online Social Security Death Index, he had been born on Aug. 24, 1921, which meant that he was 47. A photograph of the headstone on his grave in Angelus Memorial Park in Anchorage, however, shows that he was born on Aug. 25, 1922, so, unless the grave marker is wrong, the newspaper was correct.

Regardless, at a hearing on Oct. 31, diver Phillip Howard Cook testified that on the night Ball was killed, a fight “with a pile of guys involved” had started at one end of the bar. Cook said that he tried to help the bartender move the men and their skirmish outdoors; he also said that he heard the accused, Jerry Thomas Edwards, say, “Don’t hurt my brother!” and then threaten to get his gun.

A few minutes later, Cook reported, the door flew open: “I saw Jerry first. Within seconds I saw Larry (Edwards) come in with his shirt off, and he fell down by the entrance…. Jerry paused and said, ‘Where is the fat guy (Ball)?’ Jackson Ball raised up from the stool where he had been seated, took three or four steps towards Jerry with his hands raised up and said, ‘You can’t.’ Jerry pivoted and shot him.”

Cook further testified that bar owner Larry Lancashire then managed to take the gun (a .38-caliber revolver) away from Jerry Edwards and attempt to calm him down. Cook said that Edwards had been “in a rage, yelling, screaming, cursing and staggering, saying, ‘I’m going to kill that fat man!’”

Arlon Elwood “Jackson” Ball was a polarizing figure, likely to draw a variety of viewpoints concerning his character. Most folks, however, would probably mention Ball’s penchant for drinking in bars, for talking loud and rough, and for his streak of bigotry.

Soldotna’s Al Hershberger, who knew Ball, said that Ball’s aggressive talk was “definitely more bark than bite,” but he admitted that Ball, who hailed originally from Connecticut, could be mean and had a low tolerance for people with an ethnicity different than his own.

“I think his notoriety was somewhat embellished,” Hershberger said. “He did not like newcomers and frequently told them to ‘go back to America.’ I did enjoy talking to him, (though), as he always made me laugh. He definitely was opinionated. I guess it would be fair to call him a bigot, or at least very outspoken and vociferous. A lot of people thought of Jackson as more of a clown than a terrorist.”

But Ball’s opinions and attitudes occasionally led to confrontations: “(In the mid-1950s), he hit a guy over the head with a bar stool and was charged with assault with a dangerous weapon,” Hershberger recalled. “The jury found him not guilty, saying a bar stool was not a dangerous weapon.”

According to an obituary in the Cheechako, Ball had been a member of Pile Driver’s Local 2502 and was survived by a wife and four young daughters, all of whom apparently lived in Anchorage. Ball, the paper said, was an Anchorage resident who had a North Kenai homestead near Salamatof Lake and was the owner/operator of the fishing vessel Iron Mule.

Services for Ball were held at Green Memorial Chapel in Anchorage, and he was buried in Angelus Memorial Park.

Shortly after the incident in Larry’s Club, Larry Edwards was transported to Providence Hospital in Anchorage, where he was listed in “fair condition.” His brother, Jerry, who had only recently arrived in the state, was arraigned later that morning and then transferred to the state jail in Anchorage to await a preliminary hearing.

The state initially recommended $100,000 bail, but Dep. Magistrate Jess Nicholas Jr. set the bail at half that amount. In the hearings and trials that followed, the state was represented by Anchorage attorney Stan McCutcheon, while Edwards used court-appointed counsel until he acquired Wendell P. Kay as his own attorney. In mid-November, an Anchorage grand jury indicted Edwards on first-degree murder.

THE REST OF THE STORY….

In Niantic, Connecticut, in 2008—40 years after the shooting at Larry’s Club—an archaeological team of seniors from East Lyme High School was searching for evidence of a 19th century blacksmith shop when the students encountered several curiosities: an oval medallion depicting Jesus, a small brass shield bearing the images of a swastika and a German monument, and a World War II-era sweetheart bracelet.

Sweetheart bracelets often purchased or made by soldiers for their love interests back home, were in vogue during World War II. The wife or girlfriend of a serviceman would wear her man’s dog-tag information on a sterling silver chain while he was overseas. The bracelet found by the East Lyme students bore the name “Arlon E. Ball” and his Army serial number (20155871).

Information about the discovery was published in The Post Review in December 2009 by East Lyme anthropology teacher James Littlefield. One year later, Christine Durkee, writing in the East Lyme student newspaper, The Viking Saga, updated the tale, and in 2012 Al Hershberger in Soldotna found both stories online and brought them to the attention of the Redoubt Reporter.

According to Durkee’s story, Littlefield’s article generated new information and, much to their surprise, it caught the attention of one of Ball’s daughters, Margaret Ball, who happened to be living in Connecticut. Margaret Ball sent a letter to Littlefield, explaining how little she knew about her father’s military career and enclosing a photograph of Arlon in uniform.

Private First Class Ball had been an Army soldier well decorated for his achievements. Part of an elite unit, the 101st Airborne (also known as the Screaming Eagles), he had won several notable awards.

“This guy was in some pretty serious action,” said Littlefield. “He was not just pushing a pencil somewhere.”

According to military records, the 21-year-old Ball enlisted on Sept. 16, 1940. As a civilian he had earned only a grammar school education and was considered a farm hand. As a soldier, however, he became a member of the Coast Artillery Corps or Mine Planter Service, and during the two and a half years he served overseas he was involved in some intense fighting.

When he was photographed in uniform during his discharge, his many military accomplishments were on display. On his left shoulder was a patch for the Screaming Eagles. On his right breast above the pocket was a patch nicknamed the “ruptured duck,” which was sewn onto the uniforms of WWII veterans who were honorably discharged. The patch allowed such soldiers to wear their uniforms for 30 days after discharge; they were also given a small lapel pin to wear on civilian clothes.
The "ruptured duck" patch.

Below the “ruptured duck” patch was a Presidential Unit Citation pin, awarded by the president for distinguished action by the soldier’s unit, usually a regiment but sometimes a battalion or even an entire company.

On his left breast were his paratroopers wings, awarded after a specific number of qualified jumps. Below the wings was a strip of ribbons representing other medals earned by Ball, including an award for good conduct, the WWII Victory Medal, and the European African Middle East Campaign Medal.

According to Hershberger, the two stars on the campaign medal indicate the number of battles in which Ball fought. In the monochrome photograph, it is difficult to distinguish the color of the medals, but Hershberger said a bronze star indicates a single battle, while a silver star indicates five battles. Based upon his knowledge of the history of the 101st Airborne—Hershberger also served in the military in Europe in WWII—he believes that Ball likely earned one bronze star and one silver star.

The pin below the ribbons is the Combat Infantryman’s Badge, awarded after 30 days of infantry combat.

In the photograph, Ball was also wearing a wedding ring.

As for the sweetheart bracelet: Sometime after Durkee’s article in The Viking Saga, Littlefield and Margaret Ball arranged to meet for breakfast and conversation at a Friendly’s Restaurant in Mystic, Conn. They shared information, and Littlefield presented the daughter with the bracelet, which she donned for a photograph.
Margaret Ball (with Jim Littlefield) poses with the bracelet.

According to Margaret, after her father was killed in North Kenai, her mother and her sisters left their furniture and most of their belongings and returned to Connecticut to live. Littlefield said that Margaret remembered her father fondly and had wondered for decades what he had really been like.

“She told me she frequently went online with her sister to find out about her enigmatic, war-hero father they loved dearly,” Littlefield said.

More than a month after appearance of the first Redoubt Reporter story about Ball, another of Arlon’s daughters, Kayleen (Ball) Hanrahan, also made an effort to learn more. In a postscript to an email to the newspaper, she wrote: “My dad named me Kayleen. My older sister named her son Arlon. My older sister named her older son’s middle name Jackson, and I named my son’s middle name Elwood after my father’s middle name. I know my father loved my mother and all of his daughters very much. I also know there is much to be learned about who my father really was.”

Although the bracelet had never belonged to Arlon Ball’s wife, its recipient, its connection (if any) to the Jesus medallion and the swastika shield, and the reason for its burial out in Niantic remain a mystery.

 

 

1 comment:

  1. Dear Mr. Fair, I have attempted to contact you in the last two days at the Redoubt Reporter and left messages with the newsroom personnel. They have not contacted me back but a person in the sales ad department stated they you have moved and sometimes do freelance work for them. After the recent above article you posted, you have intrigued me to inquire further on your statements. I have contacted a few names above in your article and would like to talk to you over the phone to discuss further information, I have been provided. Kayleen (Ball) Hanrahan

    ReplyDelete