Henderson history: Controversial chief also modernized police department

Sgt. L.D. Edwards of the Kentucky State Police was sent to Henderson to stop a gambling war but wound up fighting on several other fronts. His final battle was against his boss: the Henderson City Commission.

He probably was one of the more controversial police chiefs to ever head the Henderson Police Department but was initially hired as the city’s director of public safety (after he resigned from the KSP), according to The Gleaner of May 3, 1949. He had no official police powers at first. That’s because he had not yet lived within the city limits for six months. He didn’t become police chief until Sept. 26, 1949.

He left a big imprint on the department, reorganizing it into the modern law enforcement agency we have today.

L.D. Monroe Edwards was born March 9, 1905, in Todd County and died Nov. 18, 1972, in Clarksville, Tennessee. He served in both the Kentucky State Police and its predecessor, the Kentucky Highway Patrol. During World War II he was a special investigator for the federal Office of Price Administration, which required a background check by the FBI.

Mayor Bob Posey, in the May 3 story, quoted an FBI source as saying, “Henderson will be very fortunate to acquire Edwards’ services.”

At that point, the Henderson Police Department was in disarray, according to a comprehensive story about Edwards in the Louisville Courier-Journal of Feb. 12, 1950. Morale was at rock bottom and there were only a handful of policemen.

L.D. Edwards was one of Henderson's more controversial police chiefs but also was the one who reorganized the police department into roughly the form it has today. (Photo courtesy Louisville Courier-Journal)
L.D. Edwards was one of Henderson's more controversial police chiefs but also was the one who reorganized the police department into roughly the form it has today. (Photo courtesy Louisville Courier-Journal)

“Edwards soon learned, after delving into the dynamitings, that they resulted from the little gamblers and slot machine operators refusing to be pushed around by the ‘big boys.’ The nickel-and-dime boys wanted their share of Henderson’s gambling take.”

On his third day at work he discovered “there was no money with which to finance the police department rebuilding project he had mapped.” Also, the city jail was soon condemned and police headquarters were in little better shape.

But Edwards had a plan and convinced the city commission to let him proceed; he gambled that if the department stepped up its enforcement, there would be money from fines and bond forfeitures to hire more men and fund improvements such as new uniforms. He increased the roster from 17 to 32.

That created his first controversy. At the end of 1949 the mayor wrote him a letter saying the police had become “overzealous” to the point "that it is becoming more and more detrimental to the welfare of the city.”

Edwards replied that so long as laws were on the books, his officers would enforce them. He said the message he was getting from business owners was, “I want your officers to leave my car alone when it is parked in front of my place of business, even if it is in violation of the parking meter.”

Edwards won that round, But the November 1949 election saw a new city commission seated – and the new mayor and one of the commissioners had campaigned on a platform of removing Edwards.

Mayor-elect Otis Benton was asking for his resignation even before he took office at the beginning of 1950.

Edwards, who was protected under the civil service statute, refused to budge. The commission subsequently gutted the department by abolishing all ranks except for patrolman and chief – no sergeants, lieutenants, captains or majors allowed. That would have removed about a dozen of the 32 men. The commission later relented a bit and cut only six men.

But the man they really wanted to get rid of was suffering from heart trouble at Methodist Hospital. The only way they could remove him was by bringing him up on charges; they included exceeding the HPD budget, spending money without authorization, and diverting money for personal use, according to The Gleaner of Feb. 1, 1950.

Edwards was still confined to his hospital bed, but two days after the charges were filed the commission conducted a brief “trial” and unanimously removed him from office, according to the Feb. 3 issue. Edwards appealed to Henderson Circuit Court.

Edwards was livid – “violently angry” is how he described it. “There\'s not a word of truth in it,” he said. “All of my actions were approved by the foregoing administration.” The strain he was under probably contributed to the heart attack he suffered.

The Courier-Journal reporter that wrote the Feb. 12 article looked through the city’s records and gave Edwards a clean bill of health. “Edwards accounted to the city for every penny that passed through the department.”

He also noted that Edwards had totally revamped the department and modeled it after departments in metro areas, with different divisions for such things as traffic and criminal. Those changes allowed the department’s revenues to more than double.

The trial for the appeal was to begin May 17, but that morning the two commissioners did an abrupt about-face. They asked the judge to dismiss all charges.

The mayor was livid; he said Commissioner Will “Red” Schutz had double-crossed him. “Schutz and I were elected on an anti-Edwards ticket, promised to get rid of Edwards if elected, and I intend to dedicate my term in office to that,” Benton said. He wasn’t successful until the third year of his term.

Edwards’ biggest and final controversy came when The Gleaner of July 17, 1952, blared in a huge headline: “Dope being sold to Henderson children! Drop station for huge ring near here!”

That story by managing editor Jack Hudgions began, “Dope is being sold in untold quantities to school children in Henderson,” which he attributed to “unimpeachable sources which must remain anonymous.”

The story also said the Henderson vicinity was the location of a “drop station” (transfer point) for up to $3 million worth of drugs annually.

The community was buzzing like Hudgions had kicked a hornets’ nest. County Judge Fred Vogel immediately convened a court of inquiry to sift the veracity of the story. The proceedings were recorded on 33 rpm records.

A “parade of witnesses” the first day failed to verify what Hudgions had written. Hudgions’ notarized statement presented the following day confirmed Edwards had been his confidential source.

The second day of the hearing saw three Gleaner newsmen on the stand. Hugh Edward Sandefur, Charlie Davis and Arthur Kasey Sr. corroborated what Hudgions had written, saying that on previous occasions Edwards had spoken to them about widespread drug use here. KSP Trooper Charles Klasen and Magistrate Eugene Chaney also testified they had heard about the presence of drugs here. The majority of witnesses, however, failed to confirm the story.

“I never gave information like that to anyone,” Edwards testified. “It looks like I have been selected to be the goat. I don’t know why.”

A large part of Hudgions’ testimony was about the involvement of state police and federal agents here. Edwards denied the presence of the FBI.

The court of inquiry failed to reach any concrete conclusions, but Francele Armstrong’s column in The Gleaner of April 5, 1963, carried verbatim a letter written to her by Lib Hudgions, who was defending the honor of her dead husband.

Jack Hudgions firmly believed the FBI was investigating drug trafficking here, she wrote, and that “Chief Edwards, for reasons of his own, chose to break the story prematurely.” The FBI did not confirm its investigation for fear it would “hinder the bureau’s investigation and exposure of the dope syndicate.”

She noted that shortly after the local episode “a national dope ring was caught in a southern city” and the resulting publicity mentioned “that the ring had previously operated a ‘drop station’ in a small midwestern town, until a local news story caused the ring to transfer its operations.”

The month after the court of inquiry Edwards took a six-month, unpaid leave of absence, according to The Gleaner of Aug. 19, 1952. Mayor Benton said Edwards had no intention of returning. “He’s through here. His usefulness has ended.”

Edwards moved to Daytona, Florida, and never returned and apparently never again worked in law enforcement.

100 YEARS AGO

The Westinghouse Electric Co. sent a representative to speak to the Henderson City Commission about the need to install a meter at the city power plant to make cooking by electricity more feasible, according to The Gleaner of April 29, 1924.

Light plant superintendent L.P. Hite said only three electric ranges were in use here as of 1924 and that the rate for lights made using them prohibitive.

50 YEARS AGO

The Henderson Utility Commission recommended the city impose the first general rate increase in its history, according to The Gleaner of May 1, 1974. It was a whopping 14.7 percent.

The proposed increase would raise the average homeowner’s costs from about $13 a month to $14.75.

The Gleaner of May 15 reported the Henderson City Commission had unanimously approved the increase.

25 YEARS AGO

CSX was increasing the speed of its trains through Henderson, according to The Gleaner of May 5, 1999.

The speed limit for trains within the city limits had historically been 25 mph but speeds went up to 30 mph as of May 3 and on May 10 the top speed was to increase to 40 mph.

Readers of The Gleaner can reach Frank Boyett at YesNews42@yahoo.com.

This article originally appeared on Evansville Courier & Press: Henderson history: Controversial chief also modernized police department

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