An excerpt from the book, “Some Gave All,” available on Amazon
By Mike Simmons
“The jail?” The idea was brought up. The Escambia County Jail needed Correctional officers. It wasn’t dazzling, but it was necessary, it was steady, and it had benefits. The Ray family needed benefits! So, in 1976, Buddy began a new career in Criminal Justice. After all, he had toyed with the idea of being a lawman before but had never made the move. While he was at it, he went ahead and joined the Sheriff’s Auxiliary. That way, besides his job, he would help out with events, and maybe even earn some extra money.
The work wasn’t bad, and the money was steady. Also, he was able to pick up side jobs to earn more income. One of the jobs was working security on his days off at the Winn Dixie grocery store at the intersection of Pace Boulevard and Palafox Street. That is what he was doing on the evening of April 7, 1978.
On February 9, 1973, Thomas McCampbell was stationed at Craig Air Force Base in Selma, Alabama, two robberies occurred in two days. In the second one, the suspect was shot. When McCampbell showed up at the hospital, he was arrested. McCampbell was given two 15-year sentences. He was out in five – early 1978.
On April 7, he invited John McCord, Ernest Benjamin, Mose Calhoun, and James Hawthorne to go with him to Pensacola, about an hour away. When they arrived, they settled on the Winn Dixie Store at the corner of Pace Boulevard and Palafox Street to rob.
Deputy Ray wasn’t wearing a uniform, and he wasn’t armed. Like the others in the store, Buddy was surprised when four of the five men entered the store and declared, “This is a holdup!” The fifth waited in the car as a getaway, just like in the movies. The men went from cash register to cash register, demanding money. Buddy, who stood up and took notice, must have had the cop look about him. Suddenly, he felt someone grab him roughly by the collar from behind and stick a gun to his head. The demand for him to get on the ground was followed without resistance. Then, to the surprise of everyone in the store – including the other three bad guys – Thomas McCampbell sent a .38 caliber bullet through Deputy Ray’s head.
She didn’t know it yet, but Sandra no longer had a husband. She was now a widow. Robert, Cynthia, and Lisa were suddenly fatherless, and a sad and sorrowful deputy would soon have to knock on their door. Horrible. Within minutes, the parking lot was full of emergency lights, and deputies were swarming the area for any sight of the suspect’s car. Buddy Ray was declared dead at Baptist Hospital at 9:50 pm.
The parking lot was much too small. The funeral parlor couldn’t begin to hold the people. But that didn’t matter. They were there in support…in support of the family, both blood and blue (or green in this case). A contingent was there from the nearby Fort Walton Beach, Florida Police Department. Buddy’s older brother, Tommy Ray, was the chief there. Rev. Charles Pfeiffer gave the eulogy. The procession followed to Pleasant Grove Cemetery.
Over the next few weeks, arrests were made. The others implicated McCampbell. But he couldn’t be found. Like a whisp of smoke, Thomas McCampbell simply vanished. On October 10, 1978, the teletype began buzzing in the radio room of the Escambia County Sheriff’s Office. The police in Lansing, Michigan had raided a house and found McCampbell.
The trial continued all week, and on into Saturday, March 10, 1979. Before long, the jury returned with a verdict, “Guilty.” On Tuesday, April 24, he went before Judge Lowery for sentencing. Somberly, the judge said, “The jury’s decision was based on emotion and sentiment, not upon a reasoned judgement.” He then sentenced McCampbell to die in the electric chair. In 1982, the Florida Supreme Court commuted his sentence to life in prison. He was moved from the death house at Raiford Prison to Maximum Security. Better? Yes. Great? No.
On September 17, 2020, Thomas McCampbell died in prison. That’s 15,504 days longer than he let Buddy Ray live.
I remember and I thank you for your stories remember.
You are welcome, Patti!