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The Chief's Story by Chief Eugene Ellis as told to Albert Turnell

Turnell

Ellis

Eugene Ellis was Chief of Police in Milledgeville for many years. He investigated many, many cases and is a wealth of stories filled with mystery and intrigue. He also has a large train collection which takes up a whole room. The train set is a miniature replica of Milledgeville, containing a tiny Campus Theatre, a tiny Coca-Cola plant, a tiny Masonic Hall, and many more, most of which Chief Ellis made himself. Ms. Worsham and I had a wonderful visit with Chief Ellis and were enthralled with his stories—so many that he could write a book. This is just one of the many stories he told us.

    Marion Stembridge was a banker and a loan shark. He was paranoid too. His wife used to prepare their meals, and she said that he used to switch their plates because he thought she was trying to poison him. I remember when I searched his hotel room after his wife left him; he had four guns, three in different corners and one on his night stand, and a latch welded onto his refrigerator with a big padlock on it, a lot like the ones you'd find at the jail.

    Marion Stembridge had had a fellow working for him by the name of Sam Terry. I always told Sam, "He's gonna get you in trouble."

    "He's been good to me," Sam would say.

    "That's all right," I would say, "but he's gonna get you into trouble some day."

    I was Chief of Police, and one day I got a call saying there had been a shooting at a garage. When I got there, there were two ladies lying on the ground; they had been shot. Sam Terry was standing there holding a gun, and Stembridge was standing a few feet away with his arms folded.

    "You gotta believe me, Ellis," Terry said. "I didn't shoot anybody."

    "He's the one with the gun, ain't he?" Stembridge said.

    One of those women died, but the other one told me that Stembridge did all the shooting. A few days later, I went into Stembridge's office with a warrant for his arrest. I walked in and told him what I was there for.

    "Can I see the warrant," Stembridge asked.

    "You certainly may," I said.

    While he was reading the warrant, he reached into his coat and grabbed one of his guns. Stembridge always carried two guns on him—automatics, with white paint on the sights so he could line them up easier.

    "I'm not going anywhere with you," he said.

    I grabbed Stembridge and wrestled the gun away from him. Then I put the cuffs on him and arrested him. Mr. Baldwin, the D.A. at the time, said that was the only mistake I ever made, not killing him there.

    Stembridge had gotten out of jail on bond and was facing a murder charge and federal charges on income tax fraud. I was at the courthouse when my assistant chief came running out to tell me that Stembridge had killed two attorneys, Marion Ennis, who was his wife's attorney, and Pete Bivins, who had represented him.

    Dennis Cox, one of our officers, and I went to the Sanford building to arrest Stembridge again. Cox started up the stairs to Stembridge's office when I stopped him. "Don't go up there, Dennis," I said. He's got his guns on him, I'm sure!"

    Just then we heard a shot. We ran into Stembridge's office and found him lying on the floor with his hand still holding his pistol. "Don't walk up on him, Dennis," I said. "He might be playing possum." But I was wrong. Marion Stembridge had shot himself through the roof of the mouth and was dead.

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