The Wichita County Courthouse, a distinguished and time-honored building, has stood as a witness to countless stories and legends throughout its long history. Some of these tales are steeped in truth, while others have become woven into the fabric of myth. As the 107-year-old courthouse undergoes an extensive remodeling, memories resurface of a previous renovation and the valiant effort to preserve a small, yet macabre, relic from its past.

A Remodeling that Stirred Indignation

In the early 1960s, the venerable courthouse underwent a significant renovation, the aftermath of which left a lingering sense of discontent among many. The results of this modernization project were met with mixed emotions, as some felt that the historical integrity of the courthouse had been compromised.

Preserving a Morbid Remnant

Amidst the rush to embrace modernity, one judge made an unusual attempt to safeguard a piece of the courthouse’s haunting history. This peculiar artifact, with a potentially gruesome tale, was no ordinary bench.

The story of this infamous bench began in the summer of 1941, when Harold Reynolds, a 28-year-old Wichita Falls man known as “Blackie,” was arrested for allegedly engaging in inappropriate behavior with a 10-year-old boy in a downtown alley. Subsequently, a jury was convened to determine Reynolds’ mental state.

On a fateful day, as Reynolds sat on the bench, awaiting the proceedings, tragedy struck. At precisely 8:59 a.m., a man identified as Burt Thurmon, the father of the young boy, rushed into the courtroom brandishing a Colt .45 revolver. In a swift motion, he fired two fatal shots into Reynolds’ chest, ending his life instantly.

Despite the presence of numerous witnesses, a grand jury surprisingly chose not to indict Thurmon for the murder. Consequently, the charges against him were dropped, and he walked free. A photograph captured Thurmon later that day, nonchalantly attending to a customer at his barbershop, seemingly unburdened by the grave act he had committed.

A Silent Witness to Tragedy

What made this bench extraordinary was the fact that one of the bullets that ended Reynolds’ life penetrated his chest, passed through the bench, and lodged itself in a nearby wall. This tragic event marked the first and, as far as records suggest, the only killing to have occurred within the courthouse’s walls.

In 1962, District Judge Temple Driver recognized the historical significance of this punctured bench and rescued it from the relentless march of progress. He had it relocated from the courtroom to a hallway, where it continued to serve as a seat for countless individuals, blissfully unaware of its haunting past.

The Elusive Fate of the Punctured Bench

Today, the whereabouts of this perforated relic remain shrouded in uncertainty. Mark Beauchamp, the County Commissioner overseeing the current courthouse renovation, admits that its current location is unknown. Over the course of a century, items within a grand old building like the courthouse tend to be misplaced or forgotten. Perhaps the punctured bench is tucked away in a long-forgotten corner, alongside the original courthouse columns or the missing time capsule from the county’s earliest days. Alternatively, it may have been discarded with other artifacts that outlived their usefulness. Regardless, it is possible that the bench still offers respite to unsuspecting visitors, who remain blissfully ignorant of its gory past.

Indeed, the tale of this little gouge in the wood serves as a chilling reminder of the courthouse’s storied past, where tragedy and legend intertwine within its historic walls.