A Prosecutor's Pursuit of Justice in a High-Profile Case

A Prosecutor’s Reflection on Justice in the Deep South

In a column for Crime Reads, the author offers a gripping, first-hand account of pursuing justice in one of the state’s most high-profile cases. The author recounts the intense pressure, personal danger, and deeply personal history that shaped the prosecution of the crime that affected the Atlanta area and the nation.

The piece details the ambush killing of Brown, who was just three days from being sworn in when he was shot twelve times in his own driveway on a cold, rainy December night. The killing came after Brown’s contentious campaign against a corruption-plagued incumbent sheriff, an election that had exposed deep-seated issues within the DeKalb County Sheriff’s Office.

The Weight of the Gavel and the Change of Venue

The author, a veteran prosecutor with over 100 jury trials to his name, explains why he took the lead on the case. “The ultimate responsibility for a conviction or an acquittal would rest on my shoulders as the district attorney,” he writes. “I wanted to be in charge if I was to bear the responsibility for a win or a loss.” This decision was made even weightier by the knowledge that a sheriff-elect had been murdered, effectively robbing the voters of one of Georgia’s largest metropolitan counties of their chosen representative.

When the trial was moved from DeKalb County due to intense media coverage, the venue landed in Albany, the author’s hometown in deep South Georgia. The choice was not symbolic. The author explains that a change of venue is not a mere legal technicality but a critical safeguard. “It should be neither,” he writes. “It occurs because a judge in the county where the crime occurred determines the people who live there are not impartial, and the case needs to be moved to another county to ensure justice is delivered.” The trial was held in a courthouse with profound historical significance, a place where he had been sworn in as a young lawyer and where the state once prosecuted Martin Luther King Jr.

Prosecution Team's Secluded Hunting Lodge

The prosecution team’s base of operations during the two-month trial was a remote hunting lodge, a place the author describes as having a cabin that looked like the one from the old Snuffy Smith cartoon. It was a world away from the courthouse, a secluded space where the team of lawyers and investigators could prepare without interruption. The isolation was so complete that the author’s chief assistant, John Petrey, was famously seen practicing his closing argument to a seemingly empty pond—unaware that a large alligator was watching him from the water, becoming, as the author puts it, “the most attentive juror he ever addressed.”

The author reveals that he had been placed on a hit list. A former colleague came to his house with a stark warning: he needed to start carrying a gun and round-the-clock security. The investigators from his office volunteered in shifts to be his bodyguards, showing the loyalty and seriousness of the situation. “These were men and women I had worked with for years,” the author writes. “I had been to their weddings; I had celebrated the birth of their children. And now they were willing to take a bullet to protect me.”

“The prosecutor has more control over life, liberty, and reputation than any other person in America.”
Former U.S. Attorney General Robert Jackson, 1940

The Enduring Relevance of the Case

The author’s account, drawn from his book A Rainy Night in Georgia, serves as a powerful reminder of the foundational principles of the American criminal justice system. He underscores that the system’s strength depends on the commitment of public servants to integrity and the rule of law. The case, he argues, remains critically relevant today, pointing to a persistent need for unwavering dedication to justice in the face of corruption and violence.

The piece ends not with a summary, but with a moment of personal relief and a reflection on the need for sanctuary. After the verdict was delivered, the author told a reporter he was getting a six-pack, his Jimmy Buffett CDs, and his boom box and heading to the beach. His family chose Bermuda, an island with some of the strictest firearms laws in the world—a stark contrast to the danger they had just escaped.