http://www.ourstory.com/thread.html?t=223208

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The Legend of Virginia Viola Hyatt - June 1959 - August 1959

Author: Gina McKay

Viola Hyatt and the murders of Lee and Emmet Harper are the stuff that legends are made of.

Viola's mother died shortly after Viola was born, February 3, 1929. That left Viola and her father, 
Martin Hyatt, alone in the world. He needed someone to help care for his daughter, so he married Jessie 
Wheeler, my mother's aunt, who was in her mid-thirties and had never been married.

Jessie realized soon after the wedding that she would more than have her hands full with the "princess" 
Viola. The motherless child was used to getting her way, and insisted on it every time. Her father would 
back her, so Jessie's attempt at any form of control or discipline was voided.

My mother recalls visiting with the Hyatts during the summer months. They lived in rural Calhoun County, 
Alabama. The recounts of my mother and her sisters have it that Viola was mean and violent. There is 
one story about her stabbing bullfrogs as they tried to escape. If everything Viola told her step-cousins 
was true, and not meant to just scare them, then she had some very deep emotional disturbances.

It is said that Martin and Viola Hyatt enjoyed Southern Gospel Music and frequented local area church 
singings.

During the summer of 1959, my parents, my baby brother and I went to pay a visit to Aunt Jessie. By 
this time, Viola was thirty years old. I was young, but I remember Viola. She was wearing bright red 
lipstick that day, and blue denim overalls. I loved red lipstick and looked forward to the day when I 
could wear it! That is one reason it is so vivid in my mind.

We were having dinner with Aunt Jessie and Viola, who had not married and who was living in the old 
Hyatt Home. I don't recall seeing Martin Hyatt. I have no idea where he might have been.

Viola was slicing some ripe, juicy, red homegrown tomatoes for dinner. There was a radio on the table 
where we were gathered. My mother was holding my baby brother in her lap, and I was watching Viola, 
with her smooth, precise slicing and her bright red lips that matched the tomatoes. Viola pointed to 
the radio with the tip of the large butcher knife she was holding in her hand. "Let's listen to the 
news, to see if anybody we know died," she spoke in her flat, rural Alabama drawl.

They say that because her mother died as a result of giving birth to her, Viola had a preoccupation 
with death.  I saw handwritten entries in one of her Bibles that had the names and death dates of 
neighboring people and the causes of their deaths. She kept meticulous records. The list was quite 
long. I wonder if she had committed them to memory?

Aunt Jessie did as she was told, which is the way she lived her life, and turned on the radio. After 
some crackling and static, the reporter's voice was clear. There were no deaths reported in that neck 
of the woods. Viola motioned for Jessie to turn off the radio. Viola's smile was wide and friendly. 
"You jes' never know," she said.

After dinner, Viola told me that if I would go outside with her, she had something she wanted to give 
to me. That was fine with my parents, considering I tended to be a chatterbox and they could use some 
time to visit with Aunt Jessie. I took Viola's hand that she offered, and we went out the front door, 
but walked around the side of the house. Along the way, I saw an ax with the blade buried in an old 
stump. "That's where we chop wood," Viola explained. "And sometimes chicken necks." She laughed merrily. 
I liked her. She had a manner about her that was relaxed and easy.

"We are going to the trailer," she told me. Eventually, we came to a metal-sided building on cinderblocks. 
It looked more like a well-constructed shed than a trailer. "You wait right here, and I'll be right back," 
she instructed. I inquired as to why I couldn't go in with her. "Oh, no, you don't want to go in there. 
It's a mess. Just wait right here." She disappeared inside, with the door closed. I stood impatiently 
and looked around. The trees were tall and very green, and I could hear chickens clucking and crowing 
in the yard.

After a few minutes, Viola came back out with a brown Teddy Bear. It had a sunny yellow ribbon around 
its neck. "Here, I want you to have this. My boyfriend won it for me at the fair, but we broke up, so 
I don't want it no more." She was smiling and her tone of voice was very nice.

I took the Teddy Bear and thanked her. I was thrilled! I had an old Teddy Bear, but it had never been 
as nice as this one. The old one was heavy and felt as though it had sawdust stuffing, and one eye was 
missing. This one was soft and huggable. I have a picture of me and the Teddy Bear (posted). I really 
loved him!

We talked as we went back to the house. I showed my parents the Teddy Bear and they approved of me 
having it. I played with my baby brother and the Teddy Bear until we left. It hardly left my side 
after that.

A few weeks later, we were visiting with friends in Woodland, Alabama. I had my Teddy Bear and was 
telling them about how it was a gift from Viola. The woman said some unkind things about Viola, and 
I didn't believe her. To me, Viola was a "nice lady."

It was while we were at the Wilson's visiting that my parents and the Wilsons heard about the body 
parts of the men that had been found scattered all across Calhoun County and beyond. It was in the 
newspaper. The men were brothers, Lee and Emmet Harper, who were construction workers living in a 
trailer on the property owned by Martin Hyatt!

"Viola did it!" "Oh my word! It was Viola" I heard those phrases and wondered what on earth they were 
saying about my "friend."

On the drive home from the Wilson's, my dad took the Teddy Bear that Viola had given to me and threw 
it out the car window. My heart was broken.

During the investigation, it was discovered that Viola had been calling the brothers' place of employment 
and telling their boss that they were visiting their mother, who was in the hospital, and that they were 
not back yet. That cast suspicions on her. She was, indeed, arrested and sentenced to seven years in Julia 
Tutwiler Women's Prison, in Wetumpka, Alabama.

Aunt Jessie died not long before Viola was released from prison. I remember seeing Aunt Jessie before 
Viola's release. She was talking about wanting to be buried under the oak tree in the cemetery, and 
she hoped that she did not live to see Viola released, because she was terrified of her.

Viola remained very tight-lipped about what had happened. Many believe that she was protecting her father. 
Some say that she claimed that the men sexually molested her and she could not take it any more. It is 
generally believed that either she (with her father in close proximity) or her father shot the men and 
then dismembered them, and scattered the body parts over three counties. Others say that she became pregnant 
by one of the men and he would not divorce his wife to marry her, so she killed him and his brother. One 
of the torsos was found nude, and the other wearing just underwear. I suppose that the real story is 
something that Viola took to her grave, when she died in June of 2000, at a hospital in Jacksonville, Alabama.

After her prison release and before her death, she lived a quiet life in a trailer park. She was a physically 
large lady who sat on her porch and read her Bible. Her neighbors described her as a friendly person who was 
quiet and stayed to herself. Her pastor said that she had prayed for forgiveness while watching evangelist 
James Robison on television ... and that she loved Jesus.

There is a book that is based on the Hyatt-Harper case, "A Broken Reed," by Ron Miller. 
It is available through Amazon.com.