It took several minutes to subdue Ron, who was bigger than any of his guards. As they dragged him away, Ron spewed a vile stream of vulgarities and threats at Fritz. When the dust settled, the tables and chairs were rearranged and everyone took a deep breath. Barney didn't see the brawl, but he knew he'd been in the middle of it. He rose and said:
I want the record to show that I am now making an application to withdraw. That boy won't cooperate with me at all. If he was paying me I wouldn't be here. I can't represent him, Judge, I just can't do it. I don't know who's going to, but I can't. And I'm-if I can't get relief here-I'm going to see if I can't get it from the Court of Criminal Appeals. I'm not going to put up with this. I'm too damned old for it, Judge. I don't want anything to do with him, under any circumstances. I have no idea about his guilt-that has nothing to do with it-but I'm not going to put up with this. The next thing you know, he'll be thumping on me; and when he does, he's in bad trouble, and I'll probably be in worse trouble. To which Judge Miller quickly replied, "Counsel's motion will be overruled."
It was heartbreaking for Annette and Renee to watch their brother act like a madman and to see him dragged around in chains. He was sick and needed help, a long stint in an institution with good doctors who could get him well. How could the state of Oklahoma put him on trial when he was so obviously sick?
Across the aisle, Peggy Stillwell watched the madman and shuddered at the image of the violence he had inflicted on her daughter.
After a few minutes of order, Judge Miller ordered Williamson brought in again. In the holding room, the guards had explained to Ron that his behavior was inappropriate for a judicial setting and that further outbursts would be dealt with sternly. But as they led him in, he began cursing Dennis Fritz as soon as he saw him. The judge sent him back to jail, cleared the courtroom of all spectators, and waited an hour.
Back in the jail, the guards ramped up their warnings, but Ron didn't care. Bogus confessions were all too common in Pontotoc County, and he couldn't believe the cops had squeezed one out of Dennis Fritz. Ron was an innocent man and determined not to be persecuted like Ward and Fontenot. If he could get his hands around Dennis's neck, he would shake out the truth.
His third entry was identical to the first two. As he stepped into the courtroom, he yelled, "Fritz, we're going to settle this now-you and me is going to settle it."
Judge Miller interrupted him, but Ron didn't slow down. "Me and you is going to settle it," he yelled at Dennis. "I ain't never killed nobody."
"Hold him there," Judge Miller said to the guards. "Mr. Williamson, any further outbursts of anger, this hearing will be conducted without your presence."
"That'll be fine with me," Ron shot back.
"Okay, you understand-"
"I'd rather not be here. If you don't mind, I'd rather go back to my cell." "You wish to waive your right to be present in the preliminary hearing?" "Yes, I do."
"Nobody's threatening or forcing you to do this, this is your own personal-" "I'm threatening," Ron snapped, glaring at Dennis.
"Has anybody threatened you-this is your own personal decision to waive your-" "I said I'm threatening."
"Okay. You do not wish to appear at this hearing; is that correct?" "That's correct."
"Okay. You may take him back to the county jail. Court record will reflect that the Defendant Ronald K. Williamson does waive his right to appearance in this courtroom due to his outbursts of anger and total disruption. And the Court finds that this hearing cannot be conducted with his presence based on-to his current statements to this Court and outbursts."
Ron went to his cell, and the preliminary hearing proceeded.
***
In 1956, the U.S. Supreme Court, in a case known as Bishop v. United States, ruled that the conviction of a mentally incompetent person was a denial of due process. Where doubt exists as to a person's mental competency, the failure to conduct a proper inquiry is a deprivation of his constitutional rights.
After Ron Williamson had spent two months in jail, no one involved in his prosecution or defense had questioned his mental competency. The evidence was blatantly obvious. His medical history was extensive and readily available to the court. His rantings in jail, though somewhat regulated by the arbitrary dispensing of medications by his lawyer and his jailers, were clear warnings. His reputation in Ada was well known, especially to the police.
And his behavior in court had been seen before. Two years earlier, when the state attempted to revoke Ron's suspended sentence on the escape charge, he so completely disrupted the hearing that he was sent to a mental hospital for evaluation. Presiding then was John David Miller, the same Judge Miller who was now holding the preliminary hearing. It was Judge Miller who had adjudicated him to be mentally incompetent at that time.
Now, two years later and with the death penalty at issue, Judge Miller evidently saw no need to inquire into Ron's state of mind.
Oklahoma had a statute that allowed a judge, including one presiding over a preliminary hearing, to suspend the proceedings if the competency of a defendant became an issue. No motion from the defense was required. Most trial lawyers would argue strenuously that their client had a history of mental problems and should be evaluated, but absent such a plea it remained the judge's duty to protect the constitutional rights of the defendant.
The silence of Judge Miller should have been shattered by Barney Ward. As defense counsel, he could have requested a complete psychological evaluation of his client. The next step would have been to seek a competency hearing, the same routine procedure David Morris had pursued two years earlier. A final step would have been an insanity defense.
With Ron out of the courtroom, the preliminary hearing proceeded quietly and in order. It ran for several days, and Ron never left his cell. Whether he was competent enough to assist in his own defense made little difference.
Dr. Fred Jordan testified first and went through the autopsy and the cause of death- asphyxiation by either the belt around the neck or the washcloth stuffed in the mouth, or probably both.
The lying began with the second witness, Glen Gore, who testified that on the night of December 7 he was at the Coachlight with some friends, one of whom was Debbie Carter, a girl he'd gone to school with and had known most of his life. At some point during the night she asked Gore to "save" her or to "rescue" her because Ron Williamson was there, too, and he was pestering her.
He did not see Dennis Fritz at the Coachlight on December 7.
Under cross-examination, Gore said he told the police about this on December 8, but their report of his interview does not mention Ron Williamson. Nor was their report submitted to the defense, as required by the rules of procedure.
Thus, Glen Gore became the only witness with direct evidence against Ron Williamson. By placing him in contact and in conflict with Debbie Carter just hours before her murder, he, technically, established the link between the murderer and his victim. All other evidence was circumstantial.
Only a prosecutor as determined as Bill Peterson would be brazen enough to allow a criminal like Glen Gore anywhere near his case. Gore had been brought to the preliminary hearing in cuffs and chains. He was serving a forty-year prison sentence for breaking and entering, kidnapping, and attempting to kill a police officer. Five months earlier, Gore had broken into the home of his former wife, Gwen, and taken her hostage, along with his young daughter. He was drunk and for five hours held them at gunpoint. When a policeman, Rick Carson, glanced through a window, Gore aimed, fired, and hit Carson in the face. Fortunately, the injuries were not serious. Before sobering up and surrendering, Gore also shot at another police officer.