Sides form over boot camp death

Many minds in Panama City appear made up along racial lines as jury selection begins.

By ABBIE VANSICKLE, Times Staff Writer
Published September 25, 2007

Jonathan Wilson remains hopeful that the guards will get a fair trial and justice will prevail in the case of the Bay County Boot Camp guards accused of killing Martin Lee Anderson.
	[Melissa Lyttle | Times]

ADVERTISEMENT [Melissa Lyttle | Times] Cassandra Johnston, 39, talks to a regular during the lunch rush inside her Panama City restaurant Cassandra's Place. "This thing's fixin' to be ugly, " said Johnston about the pending boot camp trial. [Ken Helle | Times] Gina Jones holds a photo of her son, Martin Lee Anderson, taken just before he entered the boot camp facility.

PANAMA CITY, Fla. - At her cozy diner in downtown Panama City, Cassandra Johnston dishes up fried this and fried that for the lunch crowd in exchange for generous servings of local chatter.

So when she heard that a 14-year-old black teen had died here after he was roughed up by boot camp guards, most of them white, she knew something bad was cooking.

"This thing's fixing to be ugly," says Johnston, 39, who is white. She leans in. Her voice drops to a whisper. "I've been here since day one. Everybody's pretty much got their own opinion, depending on what race they are."

When residents learned the seven guards and boot camp nurse would face trial right here in Bay County on charges of aggravated manslaughter, many wondered: Can there be a fair jury here? Many, Johnston included, have doubts.

Jury selection started Monday in this small city nestled along the Gulf Coast. Tourists might think of eternal spring break when they hear the name, but Panama City is different from Panama City Beach. It's slated for a lot of growth, residents say, but growth hasn't happened yet.

"Baby, this is a small southern town," Johnston says. "It is run by a select group of people."

Many of the 1,400 potential jurors trickled into the Marina Civic Center at 8 a.m. Monday.

One by one, potential jurors were vetted by prosecutors and defense attorneys. The court started with the handful who said they didn't know about the case. Juror 145 said he listens only to "overseas" news. Juror 70 said she doesn't pay attention to any news. Juror 102 had been out of the country for two years.

Anderson's mother, Gina Jones, sat in the back of the room. A row of reporters lined a wall on the side.

Young and old, white and black, most jurors knew about the case. Many could name major players such as controversial Bay County Medical Examiner Charles Siebert, as well as discuss details about boot camp policy and whether Anderson died of suffocation or sickle cell trait.

Most had some opinion on the case. Many said they would do their best to put that aside and to listen to the facts in court. Still, some of those in the jury pool seemed far fewer than six degrees of separation from those involved.

Juror 114 had worked as a nurse in the corrections system for years. She said she put a lot of the responsibility on the boot camp's nurse but promised she could be fair. She made it past the first round.

Juror 46 knew one of the guard's families and begged not to be picked. He was sent home. Juror 10 was friends with Anderson's mom. She, too, went home. Juror 73 knew all about the case and said she was so afraid to be on the jury that she couldn't be impartial. The judge sent her home.

In addition to being widely known, the boot camp case has aroused passionate feelings in the community.

On a recent afternoon in Cassandra's Place, a local man who wouldn't give his name ate pasta. The man, who is white, said he sides with Anderson's family and that his mind was already made up and so is everyone else's, one way or another.

Outside the restaurant, a group of white men stood gabbing. When asked about the case, there was plenty to say.

Kenneth French, a 61-year-old retired Panama City police officer, was out of town on vacation when he learned of Anderson's death. His first thought?

"I said, God, don't let that boy be black," French says. He said that it was Anderson's own fault that he was in the boot camp and that the guards weren't to blame.

French and his friends think the teen died of sickle cell, not from the guards' actions.

"Everyone in this town knows every detail," he said.

At a local municipal meeting to spruce up the city's downtown, the tenor of talk is less rough but just as opinionated.

Robert Hurst, vice president of the historical society, appliance store owner and ardent building preservationist, sums it up.

"Well, it's mostly divided between the whites and blacks," he said. "The whites basically sympathize with the sheriff's deputies that the guards are getting the raw end of the deal."

Another of the meeting's attendees, James Oshields, who helps run a community alliance, echoed Hurst, adding that, like many in the white community, he supports the medical examiner.

"We'd like to see him vindicated and get back in office," Oshields says.

In another part of town, City Commissioner Jonathan E. Wilson Sr. spends his days cutting hair at Wilson Brothers Barber Shop. On this day, the discussion is the Jena Six, a case of black teens accused of beating a white teen in Louisiana. The Jena case has attracted thousands of protesters.

Wilson, the city's only black commissioner, said he would love to feel there will be a fair jury in Panama City.

"I really feel -- and I would rather say this than to say otherwise -- that we could choose a jury here in Bay County that would be impartial," he said.

That said, he had his own thoughts on the case.

"A lot of people look at this as a racial case, but I don't see it that way," he said. "I think it was just a case of negligence on the officers' part."

For him, it's about power gone awry. He doesn't want this case to add to any racial divide. He wants healing.

"Somewhere we've got to get beyond the racial thing in this country," he said. "This gives people an idea that racism is still alive."

The struggles of the civil rights movement were clearly on the minds of black students outside the civic center during jury selection.

From the jury room could be heard the chants of protesters outside, yelling, "What do we want? Justice. When do we want it? Now."

One held a sign that showed Anderson in his casket. Another held a poster that recalled a civil rights icon who also died as a young man. It read, "Emmett Till?"

Times researcher John Martin contributed to this report. Abbie VanSickle can be reached at (813) 226-3373.

[Last modified September 24, 2007, 23:49:14]