Mr. Randy Gentry testified today at Cory Maye’s hearing. He’s the confidential informant whose tip led to the raid. He’s also been the CI in several other drug busts in and around Prentiss, Mississippi.
And holy hell. You couldn’t cast a better villain. He’s a 51-year old guy with white hair pulled back into a ponytail, a long, white beard, and wears glasses in dark round frames. He’s illiterate (or, in his words, he “aint much with words”), and according to the district attorney (who wants to undermine Mr. Gentry’s credibility now that we’re post-trial, and his story his damaging to the prosecution), he’s something of a “doper” himself.
Before I indulge you with the transcript of Mr. Gentry’s rant on lead counsel Bob Evans’ answering machine from a couple of weeks ago, let’s recap the set-up:
The defense team had just found Mr. Gentry through a private investigator. He agreed to meet with the investigator and Bob Evans, and there was some talk about covering his gas fare to the meeting. But Mr. Gentry soon realized the investigator was working for the defense, and clammed up. He missed two scheduled meetings with the defense team the next day (they’d later discover that he had gone to the sheriff’s department to “turn himself in.”)
At that, Bob Evans called and informed Mr. Gentry that he could either testify voluntarily, or be compelled to testify in court. It’s at that point that Mr. Gentry left the following message on Evans’ machine:
Wednesday, 8:38 a.m.
Yeah, this is Mr. Randy Gentry. Hey, I got to thinkin’ about my friend. I got yo’ message this morning, Bob. Y’all — y’all threaten me all you want to and everything. I don’t like fuckin’ niggers from jump street but call me or whatever and I’ll — but the day I burn five cents on gas to help that fuckin’ cocksucker Cory Maye get out of jail is going to be a hell of a damn day. But — uh — if you want ot talk to me like a fuckin’ white man, you talk. But don’t threaten me on bullshit. Get your NAACP motherfuckers — I don’t give a fuck — niggers, bro, fuck niggers! But I’ll tell you what. That’s a good friend of mine they killed, buddy. I’ll — I’ll tell you anything. I’ll — I’ll be honest with you as fuckin’ gum (?) street. But I don’t like no motherfucker talkin’ shit to me or about my friends. Alright, well look here. Call me today and look here. Y’all buy my fuckin’ gas, the NAACP buy my fuckin’ gas I’ll come talk to y’all or whatever. But look here. I’m — I’m a poor-ass motherfucker too, bro. Call me. You got my fuckin’ number. Don’t piss me fuckin’ off.
This is the “reliable,” “trustworthy” informant who made the raid on Mary Street possible. He’s also likely put quite a few other black folks in jail over the last few years.
I’ll have more on the charming Mr. Gentry later. The guy is the antonym of “credible witness.” As noted in the Clarion-Ledger article linked below, Gentry’s own brother’s testimony directly contradicts just about everything he said today (his brother’s testimony actually jibes somewhat with the search warrants, though in the small ways it differs, it helps Cory Maye’s case — more on that later, too).
But I’m thinking the colorful passage above ought to suffice for now.
Oh, and I haven’t the slightest idea where the NAACP came from. I guess if a black man has a lawyer, it must be either the ACLU or the NAACP.