April 15, 1989

Families of Victims Focus Wrath on Hayes, Jury

'Someone Will Blow His Head Off,' Man Says

Crystal Cantrell was the first person killed by Michael Charles Hayes on Old Salisbury Road July 17.

Crystal's father, Joel A Cantrell, was the first person yesterday seeking revenge.

"You know what will happen to him when he comes out?" he asked. "Me or someone will blow his head off his shoulders. It's that simple. That man will never walk this earth again a free man. There's just no way."

Hayes was the prime target for the rage and the anger of the victims and their families after the verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity was handed down in Forsyth Superior Court yesterday. But he wasn't alone. Most of the victims, their families and their friends aimed some of their most bitter comments at the eight-woman, four-man jury.

Ronald Lee Hull was killed while his wife, Darlene, and their 8-year-old son, Adam, watched.

"My little boy saw his Daddy shot," Mrs. Hull said outside the courthouse, tears streaming down her face. "This jury found him insane. Now I've got to go home and tell him that."

Claude Eagle Jr. bolted from the courtroom as soon as a bailiff unlocked the wooden double doors. Eagle, who was approached by a shirtless Hayes with a .22-caliber rifle behind his leg, was shot in the head.

"I think it's a crock," he said of the verdict, fighting back tears as the elevator doors opened up on the fifth floor. "The truth of the matter is that he didn't seem that crazy if he hid his gun from me. He wasn't insane like he was made out to be."

Gary Hull, who lost his brother Ronald, said that Hayes wasn't the only seemingly insane person in that courtroom yesterday afternoon.

"There wasn't one crazy person sitting there," he said "There was 13, and you know who the other 12 are."

Cantrell agreed with Hull.

"The man was not crazy," he said, biting off his words. “He was doped up, and I cannot understand how they let him con them into believing he was crazy."

Earnest Hayes, who lost his 21-year-old daughter, Melinda Yvonne Hayes, in the shootings, was too shocked to talk after the verdict. He paced back and forth, smoking cigarettes and staring at the floor. But Barbara Smith, a close family friend, said what Hayes couldn't.

"I'd get more tied up if I go home and beat my dog," she said. "There should be some way for the judge to require that man spend more time (in jail).

"He could be back on the streets in 10 days. Do you feel safe? We definitely need to do something with the justice system."

Hayes nodded. Ms. Smith cried.

Jeffrey Parks, who has not fully recovered from the shot that tore through his mouth and ripped up his teeth before exiting the back of his skull, had just a few words to add to Ms. Smith's comments.

"What is there to talk about?" he said, looking angered and shocked. "There is no law. We have nothing."

Many of the victims and their families, finally free of their agreement with prosecutors to refrain from making comments that might jeopardize the trial, turned their rage on the Forsyth County Sheriff's Department.

Nine-month-old questions were resurrected concerning weather the deputies on the scene could have saved a few lives. Time has not taken the edge off the bitterness that the families feel toward the deputies.

"To me, the Sheriff's Department was negligent," Eagle said. "They shouldn't have let it go as far as it did."

Two deputies, Kenneth E. Aronhime and Jacqueline Crawley, were on the scene when Melinda Hayes and Ronald Hull were killed.

"They need to get into another line of work," Cantrell said, "because they are not suited for it. They could have saved two people. I see no reason that, come next week, they should be affiliated with the Sheriff's Department anyway."

Cantrell also had some harsh words for the deputies' boss, Sheriff E. Preston Oldham.

"I do not believe he even made an appearance in the courtroom," he said. "He cannot even face us. After all that's happened, and he didn't come up there and make any type of comment."

Even though the prosecutors lost the case, not much blame was laid at the feet of District Attorney Warren Sparrow and his assistant, Eric A. Saunders.

R.B. "Nick" Nicholson, whose son Walter Thomas was killed, was not pleased with the outcome. But he showed magnanimity in defeat.

"We feel the state presented a good case," Nicholson said. "They did a good job."

One of the few things Earnest Hayes said was, "Sparrow and Saunders did an excellent job."

Sparrow said, "I have not had any feelings of hostility from these people."

But there was enough anger to be spread elsewhere. Few people could see anything positive that came from the three-week-long trial. Only Michael Hayes' family was pleased.

"I'm overjoyed," said Charles Edward Hayes, the father. "My son did what he did, but he was insane when he did it."

Shirley Hawkins, the defendant's aunt, stood with Hayes' father on Liberty Street in front of the courthouse trying for a glimpse of her nephew as he was driven off. Although deputies sneaked her nephew out the back exit onto Main Street, nothing would interfere with her feelings.

"I'm so happy," she said.

"Justice has really been done, and God has seen us through this thing. I was thanking God for letting 12 people understand two doctors (the psychologists who testified that Hayes was insane) in this state. He needs help, and he will get it. I am so happy."

His father, smiling but emotionally drained from the trial, said: "I feel sorry for the victims. Completely. I'd feel like they do. Maybe some don't realize t hat my son was insane and didn't know right from wrong. I hope some day they do."

Nicholson was also looking to the future.

"There's still a lot we can do," he said, referring to a victim's assistance group that other victims and their families said they will start. "This will give them all the more motivation."

Darlene Hull was concerned more with the present and how her son would deal with the aftermath of the trial.

"He heard it on the news before I got home," she said by phone last night. She sounded relieved.

"H e was playing out in the front yard, and he said, "Mom, it's all over." And I said 'Yup.' He's been outside playing there since. Totally no reaction."

For mother and son, the worst is behind them.

"That part of it is over, and the weight is off my shoulders," she said. "Now I can get back to doing things kind of normal."