Letter, P.D. East to friends; November 12, 1962

              Letter, P.D. East to friends; November 12, 1962
Transcript

[Personal address extracted]
November 12, 1962

My dear friends:

On the 21st of October I wrote you and reported on the self-pity I was then enjoying; this letter, like the first one, is a report and not an appeal. I think I made it clear that I was to appear in Chancery Court here on the 26th of October. The hearing was delayed for two weeks; that made it last Friday, November 9th.

My attorney, H.B. Cubley, half-way thought it would be delayed further. It wasn't, and he called me to come to court. I arrived there and found my ex-wife and son in the court room. I asked where the judge was, that being Tom Ott, and her attorney, William Harelson, and Cubley. She said they were in a room talking. We three talked pleasantly, and she assured me she'd had nothing to do with this matter having been brought up, that she'd signed nothing, that Harelson told her it was out of her hands.

The three came out of the room and Cubley motioned for me to come with him to another small room. I did. He said, "I've never tried to talk with such a nut as Harelson in my life. He won't listen to anything. He told Judge Ott that he didn't care if you paid the money or not, that he wanted to see you in jail and then tried to get the Judge to have you locked up."

I lighted my pipe, and felt good in the knowledge that I had made another friend like Mr. Harelson. Cubley asked me if I could pay the $450.00. I told him I couldn't even pay him. About that time Harelson entered the room, sat down in a chair.

"P.D.," he said in a voice I thought a bit loud, "I'm tired of fooling with you." I did not reply. "I've been considerate and generous with you, but I'm going to have you put in jail if you don't pay up." By this time his voice was much louder, his face was drained of color, his hands clutched the chair arms and his entire body began to tremble. I said nothing.

"Judge Harelson," Cubley said, "he doesn't have the money."

"I can't help that," Harelson snapped.

"Could you give us ten days to get it up?" asked Cubley.

"I'll give him to the first of the month," answered Harelson, "but just remember, P.D., you have to pay attorney fees and they are going up all the time." He continued to tremble, and I remained silent.

"What fee have you set?" asked Cubley.

"Fifty dollars," Harelson answered. "But I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll settle this entire matter for one thousand dollars, and drop my fee." He was looking at me.

"I don't even have the four hundred fifty, nor do I have the fifty for your fee," I said.

"Just a minute," Harelson said, rose from the chair and walked out."