Connect with us

Mississippi Today

At 17, William Davis was convicted of a murder he did not commit. His conviction was not wrongful. But is the legal doctrine behind it just?

Published

on

At 17, William Davis was convicted of a murder he did not commit. His conviction was not wrongful. But is the legal doctrine behind it just?

The murder of Billy Dover spread quickly through Quitman County, a rural stretch situated in the northwest Mississippi Delta, where most of the residents are Black and earning below the poverty line.

As the afternoon of July 3, 1998, wore on, the news of what happened at the Western Auto Store traveled four miles up Highway 3 from Lambert, where it was located, to Marks, where William Davis, then 17, was waiting in line to buy a drink at Fred’s Dollar Store. William and his best friend, 19-year-old Andre Smith, had stopped on their way to Batesville to get a Band-Aid for Andre’s bleeding hand.

“Have you heard? Someone went and killed Billy Dover,” the woman behind the cash register said as she rang up their items.

Bells went off in William’s head. Andre turned to look at William, but no one said anything. Killed him? William had not heard that. This is crazy, he thought to himself. I didn’t expect for none of this to happen.

At age 13, William had moved from the farmland of Vance, Mississippi, to the small town of Lambert, after his dad, a tractor driver, had died suddenly of cardiac arrest. The highway sign welcoming people into Lambert boasts the slogan: “A City of Hope.”

William’s mom worked night shifts at a nursing home to support her six children, and William, the youngest, was often left home alone. His first year living in Lambert, William watched the streets from his porch: Kids were smoking and selling weed up the block; older men were smoking crack behind his house. After school, he would sit from 3-10 p.m. on the porch of his yellow and green craftsman-style house at the corner of Darby Avenue — Lambert’s main road — and the highway, and watch the streets. At 14 years old, he joined them. An older neighborhood kid handed William an ounce of weed and demanded he return with money. William started selling weed, then crack, which provided easier and faster cash.

Andre, a neighbor from Vance, moved up to Lambert, too. He was two years older, part of a gang, and known for getting into fights. William’s mom asked him to stop hanging out with Andre. Instead, in ninth grade, William stopped going to school. Every day, he would meet up with Andre to smoke weed, sell crack, and gamble. Often, they would gather outside the Western Auto Store, which was at the center of town.

When William had met up with Andre outside the Western Auto Store on July 3, 1998, he was mad. They wanted to go shopping for the Fourth of July in Batesville, but last night, Andre lost the money William had lent him in a game of dice.

The Western Auto Store was a neighborhood institution, as was Billy Dover, the white 65-year-old man who owned and ran it. Customers would come into the store to buy materials for their bike or car or household appliances, to sit in recliners and watch TV with Dover or even to borrow some money, which he was generous about lending. William and his family, like most people in the area, knew Dover well. Dover had a large family of 11 sons and daughters, including stepchildren, and acted like a father figure to the town. The Davis family would go to Dover’s store even when they lived in Vance. Dover put the training wheels on William’s first bike.

Standing outside the store on July 3, 1998, arguing with William about money, Andre came up with a plan.

“He told me he had an idea of how to get him some money. I’m like, ‘Go ahead. I’m going to go along with it,’’’ William said.

Andre had a plan to steal from Dover. Andre ended up killing him.

Eight years after the murder of Billy Dover, and eight years after being picked up by the police, William Davis sat in his Unit 32 cell of the Mississippi State Penitentiary and began to write down the details of his case. It was 2006; he was now 25 years old, but he still didn’t understand how he had ended up here.

Unit 32 was a notorious lockdown facility in the state — inmates let out of their cells for only one hour per day — and had made state headlines for its inhumane conditions, outbreaks of violence, and reports of inmate deaths. William had witnessed a friend get stabbed. Two men attacked William with a weapon, and he received a disciplinary charge, later expunged from his record, for fighting back in self-defense. A lawsuit put forth by the American Civil Liberties Union shut down the unit in 2010, but in 2020 reports surfaced of inmates being housed there again.

A ward in Unit 32, Timothy Morris watched as William’s mom cried to him during a visit. Timothy approached William after and asked him: “What are you going to do to make your mom proud? She’s cried enough with you being in this place.”

William went back to his cell and started to write, thinking that maybe if he understood why he was in here, he could find his way out of here. He had 21 bullet points detailing what he remembered happened between the morning of the crime and the day of his arrest. Titling the section, “Specific Facts Not Within Petitioner’s Personal Knowledge,” William wrote down what he didn’t understand. How was he convicted of capital murder if he never killed anyone?

In the unit, away from the violence, there was a group of guys “practicing litigation,” as William puts it. They were ordering books from the law library, comparing their cases, and filing post-conviction appeals. Many of the guys in the legal circle at the prison were also fighting murder cases, so they poured over legal scholarship together, trying to break down their cases and to help each other write their own motions.William started sitting with them and learning about the law. At night, he would leave order slips under his cell for new books and cases from the law library. The next day, copies would show up at his door, and he would consult his legal dictionary to understand the terminology.

“I didn’t understand until I started doing research on cases, filing paperwork, and studying law,” he said. That’s when William learned about the felony murder rule, and how it was operating in Mississippi. “That’s when I started to understand.”

Under the felony murder rule, if someone is killed during the commission of a felony, those who participated, even tangentially, are able to be charged with murder, without planning, intending, or committing it.

Signs welcome people to Lambert, Miss., in Quitman County.

Standing outside the Western Auto Store on the morning of July 3, 1998, Andre gave William instructions: Enter the store and purchase a hose for a washing machine. Once inside, William watched as Dover cut the hose for him and confirmed it was the right one. William brought the hose back out to Andre.

Later, District Attorney Laurence Mellen would say that this was how “the defendants made preparation for the crime,” a document from the Quitman County Circuit Court reads, “by having entered the store, making themselves aware of whether the victim Mr. Dover was alone.”

Andre went inside the store under the pretense of returning the hose. Dover said that once it was cut, the hose couldn’t be exchanged. Andre argued. “It escalated from there,” William said. “I don’t know if that was the actual reason for what transpired. But I do know that when that happened, I left.”

In court, Mellen detailed what he asserts happened inside: “Davis went to the cash register, tried to get in, while Lushun, Andre Lushun Smith, had taken Mr. Dover to the back of the building on the pretense of buying something back there, assaulted him there in the back, and beat him the back of the store. The State would prove that Davis left a fingerprint on the cash register in the front while the assault was being made in the back. Smith assaulted Mr. Dover with a bicycle pump and repeatedly beat on him,” Mellen said. “They did take the wallet from Mr. Dover, Mr. Billy Dover, which had money in it.”

Dover survived for a few minutes after Andre’s beating, court documents report, but was discovered dead by Dover’s son on the floor of his store.

Davis said that when he heard Andre and Billy Dover fighting, he left. The next time William saw Andre, he had blood on his shirt. He thought to himself: “Ah, man, let me get away from this. Let me get away from this.”

Andre handed him cash. He asked Andre to change his clothes, but he didn’t ask Andre what happened. Hours later, when the woman behind the cash register at Fred’s Dollar Store confirmed to William that Dover had indeed been murdered, he was just as shocked as her. “I didn’t think he would go that far. I never thought it would get to that point,” he said.

After Andre was picked up by the police and taken into questioning, the Smith family came to William’s house and demanded to know what they did. William replied with the line he would later start using on everyone: “I can’t speak on what he did or didn’t do. If I leave a place, if I remove myself from a situation, how can I know what’s going on there?”

When the police came and took William into questioning, he tried to get them to understand that he wasn’t present during the murder. If he never even saw the murder, how could he have done it? “I hadn’t done anything. I didn’t do this. I didn’t murder anyone. That was my whole thing, I was trying to convey to them that I murdered no one,” he said.

But what William himself didn’t understand at the time was that, under the felony murder rule, it didn’t matter if he had killed anyone or not.

“To be honest, the trouble with felony murder is because there is such a wide range of culpability, that allows you to go to jail forever,” said Walter Boone, a Clarksdale lawyer who later worked with William on his case. “Were you just the pick-up driver, or did you go in? Did you participate in the robbery? Did you know about the murder in advance and plan it and participate in it? The felony murder does not distinguish between the levels of culpability on that.”

The felony murder rule is enacted in 44 states across the country, with charges and sentences at varying levels of severity. Recent legal reform in California has limited felony murder to the death of an on-duty police officer, the direct killing of someone, or intentional aiding and abetting of a murder. In some states, like Colorado, felony murder is considered second-degree murder, reducing the penalty and sentencing time. But in Mississippi, felony murder falls under the capital murder statute. Those convicted of capital murder are either sentenced to death, life without parole, or life with parole—but only if the crime was committed before July 1, 1994.

In Mississippi, “Capital murders are disproportionately felony murders,” State Public Defender André de Gruy explains. A review of available data, provided by the internal system in the Mississippi Administrative Office of Courts, reveals there have been 301 capital murder sentences given across the state between Jan. 1, 1994, and Sept. 23, 2022. Of those capital murder sentences, 226 were for felony murder cases.

For the state to convict someone of capital murder, de Gruy said, “they don’t have to prove the murder, they only have to prove the underlying felony, or the intent to do the underlying felony. They don’t have to prove an intent to kill.”

“The felony murder rule in Mississippi is very broad. They still allow a non-triggerman to get the death sentence,” de Gruy said.

As a result, individuals at the very periphery of a killing are being trapped with the same charges, and potential sentences, as the murderers themselves.

De Gruy pointed to a 1989 case as an example. A 15-year-old, Vincent Harris, sat on the handlebars of his co-defendant’s bike as they rode to a convenience store. Before they arrived, Harris jumped off the bike and waited by the side of the road, as his co-defendant, Ron Foster, continued to the market. Foster attempted to take money from the cash register and ended up shooting the clerk, but Harris, who was miles away at the time, was still charged initially with capital murder.

Champions of the felony murder rule often refer to the deterrence theory as support, legal scholar Kat Albrecht stated in her paper “Data Transparency, Compounding Bias, and the Felony Murder Rule.” When examining a case in Illinois, she wrote that the state’s attorney argued that the “felony murder rule deters felony commission because offenders know that if something goes wrong, and someone dies, they will be charged with murder regardless of their intent or who actually pulled the proverbial trigger.” This, in theory, should lead to less crime, but in practice falls apart as offenders, especially juveniles, often aren’t aware of the technicalities of the law — or thinking in such terms when committing crimes that they do not believe will involve a death.

“Well-established brain development science shows that children and teenagers are less able to perceive risk or anticipate consequences than adults,” said Jody Kent Levy of the Campaign for the Fair Sentencing of Youth, according to a report by the Restore Justice advocacy group.

In his work, de Gruy said he has seen some patterns connecting felony murder cases and juvenile cases anecdotally.

“Among the juvenile cases, you’re more likely to see a multiple defendant case,” de Gruy said. “Let’s say you see an argument at a gas station that escalates to a shooting. If there’s one person involved, it’s usually someone a bit older. If there’s a car full of people, it’s probably younger people,” he said.

In cases with multiple defendants, which are more likely to involve juveniles, there is also a higher likelihood that some of those people will have only tangential relationships to the crime at hand. If someone is shot during a crime, and the getaway car is full of young people, they could all be charged with capital murder in Mississippi under the felony murder rule.

When William heard he was being charged with capital murder, he said, “I hit the floor.” At the time, in July 1998, the Supreme Court had not yet ruled on Roper v. Simmons, which outlawed the death penalty for juveniles. William’s youth — his developing brain, his potential for rehabilitation, his susceptibility to peer pressure — would not even be a consideration in his sentencing. If he went to trial, the state was going to pursue the death penalty.

Charles E. Webster, now the judge in the 11th Circuit Court District, was William’s court-appointed lawyer. He encouraged William to plead guilty — his life was on the line. But William didn’t want to give up his dignity. “I can’t say I’m guilty of killing this man when I know I didn’t,” he said.

Webster went to William’s mom and explained what was at stake: If they committed to a plea deal, it would save his life. W“My heart fell in my stomach. It was devastating for me. I couldn’t believe it,” Ernestine Davis said.

She went to William crying, “My baby. I don’t want to see that happen.” For his mom, William said, he agreed to enter a guilty plea.He would be sentenced to life in prison, without parole.

The details of William’s case have become blurry in Webster’s memory over the past two decades, but, like the other felony murder cases he dealt with in his career, Webster said, “most of the time, these are tough calls.”

After reviewing William’s court documents, he remembered what guided his thinking on the case: “The evidence seemed pretty strong,” he wrote — meaning that documents show William had entered the store prior to the robbery and his fingerprint was found on the cash register.

“Guilt or innocence may not have been much of an issue. As such, the best outcome may have been simply guaranteeing the death penalty was off the table. It may be that looking at it 23 years later avoiding a chance of the death penalty doesn’t seem that significant; I assure you that when it’s you that the state is trying to put you to death — it’s a big deal,” Webster wrote.

Looking back on his guilty plea 23 years later, William feels it was a big deal that he didn’t get to have a voice in court: “I didn’t even have an opportunity to fight for my freedom,” he said. “I’m looked upon now as a murderer.”

On May 12, 2000, William appeared in Quitman County Circuit Court for his sentencing.

“You’ve heard the prosecutor tell the Court what his office recommends as to your sentence: life without parole. Do you understand that?” Circuit Judge Elzy Smith asked him.

William nodded his head up and down.

“Answer up, please,” Julia Phillips, the court reporter said.

“Yes, I do,” he responded.

William Davis sits Nov. 21, 2022, on the front stoop of his family’s former house in Lambert, Miss,

For weeks, William spent his nights awake writing in his cell. He moved from writing down the details of his case — those which he understood, and those which he didn’t — to formulate an appeal for his case. Working with Frank and Charlie, friends who also had murder cases, William learned the law.

“I put my idle time into legal work, reading the Georgetown Law Journal, ordering cases every week,” he said.

William began penning a new section, titled: “Legal Argument.” On June 12, 2006, he submitted his motion to vacate his sentence. Two years later, he received a note back from the court: His appeal was rejected.

“That could have been a demoralizing point,” William reflected. But, around the same time, he had received another letter in the mail. Someone was interested in his case.

Marie Satterwhite wasn’t a lawyer, but she had personal experience with trouble coming from “being with the wrong person at the wrong time,” as she puts it. Her son had hung out with teenagers in the street gangs of Quitman County. He passed a bag of drugs from the seller to an officer disguised as a buyer — and was sent to prison. Satterwhite shared her son’s story when giving a talk at First United Pentecostal Church in Marks.

“I was telling the church that no matter how you raise your children, if they get in with the wrong crowd, you never know what the other person is going to do,” she said. Or how that will impact your kid.

After her talk, William’s mother, Ernestine, approached her and shared William’s story. “I didn’t know that other mothers were going through the same thing that I was going through,” Satterwhite said.

Satterwhite wanted to hear from William himself and, in 2008, wrote him a letter asking about his case. He sent her the write up he had spent the weeks of 2006 forming — the facts, the questions, the legal argument and appeal. When she read his pages, she felt filled with a responsibility — she had to try to get him out of prison. Satterwhite went to every lawyer she knew in the Quitman County area and asked them if they could take on William’s case.

“I left the papers there and I gave them my number to get back in touch,” she said. Each one read the papers and called her. “They all said, ‘He’s got a case, but we’re booked,’” she recalled.

Satterwhite didn’t lose faith. She decided to turn to her church for help. She brought William’s papers to her church pastor, and together they anointed his papers with oil and prayed over his papers. “The whole church stood up, and we all agreed he was going to get out,” she said.

Satterwhite led talks at a youth group every month at the Blue Mountain Church. With no more lawyers to share William’s story with, she started to share it with the 16-year-old boys in the group. She would write William with questions about how he got into his situation, how he survived it, how he stayed strong. And William would respond with notes she could weave into her talks at the church.

“I wanted to write home the fact that your environment doesn’t have to define you. Anyone that wants to be something, you have to learn your behavior. If you have time, effort, and the opportunity, you can be anything you choose to be,” he said.

William admitted: “You make mistakes in life.” He didn’t want them to do the same. Still, now, mothers come up to Satterwhite and thank her for sharing William’s story with the group and for getting their sons on the right track.

While William was initially disappointed that no lawyers or court had interest in his case, he was resolved to continue doing the legal work himself. “People came into my life and blessed me with the energy to move forward, the energy to persevere,” he said, referring to Satterwhite. “I then, in turn, tried to elevate myself. I used books, papers, the law. That gave me a focus to try and get freedom.” He continued to study cases, to read the Annual Review of Criminal Procedure to see what new laws had passed, to exchange ideas in his legal circle.

In the spring of 2013, Timmie Hubert, who was in his group, heard some news. A lawyer had contacted him about trying to vacate his juvenile life without parole sentence based on a 2012 Supreme Court decision, Miller v. Alabama, that sentencing a juvenile to life without parole violated the Eighth Amendment.

“I thought man that should be me. I went and looked it up and studied it,” William said. He found out juveniles previously sentenced to life without parole could have their case considered for resentencing to life with parole. First, defendants had to petition to have their case heard. Then, a judge would review the case and decide if the defendant would be resentenced to life with parole or not.

A statewide effort, composed of nonprofits, the Office of the State Public Defenderand private law firms, formed and worked to locate incarcerated people who would be eligible to have their cases reviewed under Miller. Eighty-five people were identified, data from the Mississippi State Public Defender’s office reveals. “They are almost all felony murder cases,” André de Gruy said.

Before William was even notified of his eligibility — he filed his own Miller petition pro se to the Quitman County Circuit Court on June 21, 2013, using a model pleading Jake Howard from the MacArthur Center for Justice had published. The state effort took notice, and Walter Boone was assigned to his case pro-bono. “And that’s when everything started picking up,” Boone said. He began to prepare William’s case for a judge.

William awaited his hearing with other Miller candidates in Unit 30 of the Mississippi State Penitentiary. As those around him started seeing results, William grew hopeful. His friend Ricky Bell got resentenced to life with parole eligibility. He helped others in the unit file their pro se motions to get their cases heard. But, as four years passed, and he still hadn’t been seen in front of a judge, William started to worry.

The process of resentencing under Miller is difficult. Around a quarter of their cases were denied parole.

Boone encountered these difficulties when working on his cases. Overburdened judges are reluctant to vacate a criminal conviction that has already been sentenced by the court. Even if the crime was committed by a child, that doesn’t necessarily garner sympathy. Boone said that when judges get Miller cases in their hands, he speculates that many think: “Why are we spending time on this?” Of the 63 cases that have been heard since the passing of Miller, as many as 17 defendants have been refused parole eligibility.

Judges have a lot of discretion in Miller cases – and just have to note that Miller factors were considered in order to make a resentencing decision. Some judges view Miller cases as they would a parole decision – instead of an eligibility one, those working on the state effort noticed – making a life with parole sentence harder to obtain. Yet, even if a Miller case is decided favorably, the defendant still has to apply to be granted parole.

On Feb. 14, 2017, Judge Albert B. Smith released his decision on the Miller case for William Davis: He would be resentenced to life in prison, with the eligibility for parole.

“There is no evidence before the Court that Mr. Davis killed or intended to kill the victim in this case,” the order and judgment states. “Mr. Davis argues that he is not one of the ’uncommon’ and ‘rare’ juvenile homicide offenders who may be sentenced to life without eligibility for parole.” The Court agreed.

“Felony murder law has been the law for a long time. I think everybody who looks at it would say that it produces unjust results,” Boone said. “But the idea behind Miller is that, even if they made an evil choice at age 16, even if it was intentionally evil, that’s a kid and that kid is going to change and grow.”

William said the decision “made a world of difference” in his outlook. The possibility of freedom was, for the first time, within reach. “Things were finally happening,” he said.

William still had to address the Parole Board. He would have to present a case to the board that shows he had a support network and future plans after prison.

The Davis family wrote letters. “William was not a problem child,” Cedric Williams, his older brother, wrote. “We really hate this happened to Mr. Billy Dover. He really was a good man. I believe that William has paid his time.”William’s cousin, Lasandra Booker wrote about William: “One thing I know of this young man (is) he knows how to change for (the) better.”

William found a new motivation after being granted parole eligibility. He took college classes, including psychology, which taught him that people react in unpredictable ways under fearful circumstances and gave him a new perspective on the behavior of Andre Smith that day in the Western Auto. He also started teaching. “I wanted to learn how to actually help people. If I see something going on, I want to know how to approach it, diffuse it,” he said. “Because guys can lose their life.” And, to an extent, William feels like he did.

“Three people lost their lives pretty much. Big chunks of it. Billy Dover lost his life. Andre lost his life. And I lost a portion of my life that I can never get back,” he said. Andre Smith, who was 19at the time of the crime and not eligible for parole consideration under Miller, is serving a sentence of life without parole at the Marshall County Correctional Facility.

On Dec. 29, 2021, though, William got the rest of his life back: He was granted parole.

In a matching blue sweatsuit, provided by the state, William walked out of prison into the winter Mississippi air. Everything he wanted on his first day of freedom was so small: a bath, a pedicure, a hamburger. His mom and brother, Cedric, picked him up, drove straight through Lambert, and continued the 25-minute drive up the highway to his brother’s new house in Batesville.

Still, William was not quite free. In the court of public opinion, he said, he will forever be seen as a murderer. “This is what I’ll be for the rest of my life,” he said. “A whole family hates me – they don’t even know me – but they think I killed their loved one.”

The Dover family, who had advocated against William’s parole eligibility during his Miller hearing, did not want to comment.

Now, William lives in Horn Lake, an hour north of Lambert, by the border of Tennessee, and works a factory job with spices that make him sneeze. He tries to fill his free time, after work, with pottery and candle-making classes. He craves a schedule, and routine. He had developed that in prison. At any time, he can still say what is happening on the inside.

On a Monday evening in late November, when eating Alaskan snow crab legs at a Red Pier by his house, he looked at his watch and said, “It’s canteen night,” referring to the time where inmates can go buy items at the convenience store. Often, this night would turn violent, especially if someone didn’t have any money to spend, he reflected.

William’s good fortune is rare. In Mississippi, there are five Miller-eligible felony murder cases in which the defendant was not the triggerman in the murder. William Davis is the only one out on parole. Two have been resentenced to life without, one is awaiting his Miller hearing, and the other, Alexander Hymes, has been given parole eligibility but isn’t out yet. Around 15 guys, still on the inside, often call William and ask him for advice. On the outside, he and six paroled juvenile lifers keep in touch regularly, offering support and providing updates on jobs and family. They call their group Life After Life.

Only an empty lot remains in Lambert, Miss., at the site of the Western Auto Store where Billy Dover was killed on July 3, 1998. There’s no bank or club in town, just some graffiti that reads, “Club Good Times” on an abandoned brick building

Almost a year after his release, William, now 42, stood outside his old yellow and green craftsman style house in Lambert. He sat down on the porch, and watched Darby Avenue, just as he used to when he was 13, before he joined the streets, before the incident at the Western Auto Store, before his capital murder conviction. There is a group of guys still smoking crack behind his house. People driving by honk and wave at him still. But, so much has changed. His house is empty and shuttered with a “No Trespassing” sign. The Western Auto Store is gone — only an empty lot remains. There’s no bank or club in town, just some graffiti that reads, “Club Good Times” on an abandoned brick building. As he walked his old path from his house to where the Western Auto Store once stood, every third car or so that passed by him honked. Around every fifth car stopped to pull over and talk to him.

“I don’t come down here. I really don’t. I try to stay out of this,” William said.

A police officer, Veronica Survillion, got out of her patrol car to give William a hug.

“When nobody believed, I believed in him,” she said. “You can basically go to prison for life for basically anything around here.”

William nodded but also laughed. As both a felony murder defendant and a Miller defendant, he was well aware of a paradoxical truth: while the legal system had locked him up for life, it had also set him free to a new one.

“I’m forever grateful,” William said, but then reflected, “I’ll forever be looked at as a murderer.”

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons license.

Mississippi Today

UMMC hospital madison county

Published

on

mississippitoday.org – @MSTODAYnews – 2025-06-13 11:23:00


The University of Mississippi Medical Center (UMMC) has acquired Merit Health Madison, renaming it UMMC Madison, a 67-bed hospital offering emergency, surgical, cardiology, neurology, and radiology services, with plans for OB-GYN care. UMMC will move its Batson Kids Clinic to Madison, expanding pediatric services. This suburban expansion follows earlier clinic openings in Ridgeland and comes amid criticism that UMMC is shifting services away from Jackson, particularly affecting underserved, majority-Black neighborhoods. Attempts by lawmakers to restrict UMMC’s suburban expansion were vetoed by Governor Reeves. UMMC aims to relieve space constraints at its main Jackson campus and continue its mission of education, research, and care.

The University of Mississippi Medical Center has acquired Canton-based Merit Health Madison and is preparing to move a pediatric clinic to Madison, continuing a trend of moving services to Jackson’s suburbs. 

The 67-bed hospital, now called UMMC Madison, will provide a wide range of community hospital services, including emergency services, medical-surgical care, intensive care, cardiology, neurology, general surgery and radiology services. It also will serve as a training site for medical students, and it plans to offer OB-GYN care in the future. 

“As Mississippi’s only academic medical center, we must continue to be focused on our three-part mission to educate the next generation of health care providers, conduct impactful research and deliver accessible high-quality health care,” Dr. LouAnn Woodward, UMMC’s vice chancellor of health affairs, said in a statement. “Every decision we make is rooted in our mission.” 

The new facility will help address space constraints at the medical center’s main campus in Jackson by freeing up hospital beds, imaging services and operating areas, said Dr. Alan Jones, associate vice chancellor for health affairs. 

UMMC physicians have performed surgeries and other procedures at the hospital in Madison since 2019. UMMC became the full owner of the hospital May 1 after purchasing it from Franklin, Tennessee-based Community Health Systems. 

The Batson Kids Clinic, which offers pediatric primary care, will move to the former Mississippi Center for Advanced Medicine location in Madison. This space will allow the medical center to offer pediatric primary care and specialty services and resolve space issues that prevent the clinic from adding new providers, according to Institutions of Higher Learning board minutes.

A UMMC spokesperson did not respond to questions about the services that will be offered at the clinic or when it will begin accepting patients.

The Mississippi Center for Advanced Medicine, a pediatric subspecialty clinic, closed last year as a result of a settlement in a seven-year legal battle between the clinic and UMMC in a federal trade secrets lawsuit. 

The changes come after the opening of UMMC’s Colony Park South clinic in Ridgeland in February. The clinic offers a range of specialty outpatient services, including surgical services. Another Ridgeland UMMC clinic, Colony Park North, will open in 2026.

The expansion of UMMC clinical services to Madison County has been criticized by state lawmakers and Jackson city leaders. The medical center does not need state approval to open new educational facilities. Critics say UMMC has used this exemption to locate facilities in wealthier, whiter neighborhoods outside Jackson while reducing services in the city. 

UMMC did not respond to a request for comment about its movement of services to Madison County. 

UMMC began removing clinical services this year from Jackson Medical Mall, which is in a majority-Black neighborhood with a high poverty rate. The medical center plans to reduce its square footage at the mall by about 75% in the next year. 

The movement of health care services from Jackson to the suburbs is a “very troubling trend” that will make it more difficult for Jackson residents to access care, Democratic state Sen. John Horhn, who will become Jackson’s mayor July 1, previously told Mississippi Today. 

Lawmakers sought to rein in UMMC’s expansion outside Jackson this year by passing a bill that would require the medical center to receive state approval before opening new educational medical facilities in areas other than the vicinity of its main campus and Jackson Medical Mall. Republican Gov. Tate Reeves vetoed the legislation, saying he opposed an unrelated provision in the bill.

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The post UMMC hospital madison county appeared first on mississippitoday.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Center-Left

The article presents a primarily factual report on UMMC’s expansion into Madison County, outlining the medical center’s services and strategic decisions while including critiques from Democratic leaders and local officials about the suburban shift. The inclusion of concerns over equity and access—highlighting that the expansion is occurring in wealthier, whiter suburbs at the expense of services in majority-Black, poorer neighborhoods—leans the piece toward a center-left perspective, emphasizing social justice and community impact. However, the article maintains a measured tone by presenting statements from UMMC representatives and government officials without overt editorializing, thus keeping the overall coverage grounded in balanced reporting with a slight progressive framing.

Continue Reading

Mississippi Today

Rita Brent, Q Parker headline ‘Medgar at 100’ Concert

Published

on

mississippitoday.org – @MSTODAYnews – 2025-06-13 10:26:00


National comedian Rita Brent will host the “Medgar at 100” Concert on June 28 at the Jackson Convention Complex, celebrating the legacy of civil rights leader Medgar Wiley Evers. The event features performers like Tisha Campbell, Leela James, and Grammy winner Q Parker. Organized by the Medgar & Myrlie Evers Institute, the concert honors Evers’ legacy through music, unity, and cultural tribute. It serves as a call to action rooted in remembrance and renewal. Proceeds will support the institute’s work in civic engagement, youth leadership, and justice advocacy in Mississippi and beyond. Tickets go on sale June 14.

Nationally known comedian Rita Brent will host the Medgar & Myrlie Evers Institute’s “Medgar at 100” Concert on June 28.

Tickets go on sale Saturday, June 14, and can be ordered on the institute’s website

The concert will take place at the Jackson Convention Complex and is the capstone event of the “Medgar at 100” Celebration. Organizers are calling the event “a cultural tribute and concert honoring the enduring legacy of Medgar Wiley Evers.” 

“My father believed in the power of people coming together — not just in protest, but in joy and purpose, and my mother and father loved music,” said Reena Evers-Everette, executive director of the institute. “This evening is about honoring his legacy with soul, celebration, and a shared commitment to carry his work forward. Through music and unity, we are creating space for remembrance, resilience, and the rising voices of a new generation.”

In addition to Brent, other featured performers include: actress, comedian and singer Tisha Campbell; soul R&B powerhouse Leela James; and Grammy award-winning artist, actor, entrepreneur and philanthropist Q Parker and Friends.

Organizers said the concert is also “a call to action — a gathering rooted in remembrance, resistance, and renewal.”

Proceeds from the event will go to support the Medgar & Myrlie Evers Institute’s mission to “advance civic engagement, develop youth leadership, and continue the fight for justice in Mississippi and beyond.”

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The post Rita Brent, Q Parker headline 'Medgar at 100' Concert appeared first on mississippitoday.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Centrist

This article presents a straightforward, factual report on the upcoming “Medgar at 100” concert honoring civil rights leader Medgar Wiley Evers. The tone is respectful and celebratory, focusing on the event’s cultural and community significance without expressing a political stance or ideological bias. It quotes organizers and highlights performers while emphasizing themes of remembrance, unity, and justice. The coverage remains neutral by reporting the event details and mission of the Medgar & Myrlie Evers Institute without editorializing or promoting a specific political viewpoint. Overall, it maintains balanced and informative reporting.

Continue Reading

Mississippi Today

Future uncertain for residents of abandoned south Jackson apartment complex

Published

on

mississippitoday.org – @MSTODAYnews – 2025-06-13 09:25:00


Residents of Chapel Ridge Apartments in Jackson, Mississippi face uncertainty after the complex was abandoned by its property managers. Trash pileups, unpaid water bills, and lack of repairs have left tenants without basic amenities. The city has declared the property a public nuisance, but legal and financial complications hinder progress. The owner, linked to a federal fraud case, is in prison, and associated companies have filed for bankruptcy. Many tenants are now planning to move but struggle financially. Community members and local officials are seeking solutions, but the future of the complex—and its vulnerable residents—remains unresolved.

Residents at Chapel Ridge Apartments in Jackson are left wondering what to do next after months dealing with trash pileups, property theft and the possibility of water shutoffs due to the property owner skipping out on the bill.

On Sunday, Ward 5 Councilman Vernon Hartley, city attorney Drew Martin and code enforcement officers discussed next steps for the complex, which, since April 30, has been without a property manager. 

“How are you all cracking down on other possible fraudulent property managers around Jackson?” one woman asked Martin. 

“ We don’t know they’re there until we know they’re there, and I know that’s a terrible answer, but I don’t personally have another one I’m aware of right now,” Martin said. “These individuals don’t seem to have owned another apartment complex in the Metro Jackson area, despite owning a whole bunch nationwide.”

A sign marks the entrance to Chapel Ridge Apartments, Thursday, June 12, 2025, in Jackson, Miss.

Back in April, a letter was left on the door of the leasing office advising residents to not make rental payments until a new property manager arrives. The previous property managers are Lynd Management Group, a company based in San Antonio, Texas. 

The complex has been under increased scrutiny after Chapel Ridge Apartments lost its solid waste contract mid-March due to months of nonpayment. The removal of dumpsters led to a portion of the parking lot turning into a dumping site, an influx of rodents and gnats, and an investigation by the Mississippi Department of Environmental Quality. Local leaders pitched in to help remedy the situation, and in May, Waste Management provided two dumpsters for the complex. 

However, the problems persisted. In May, JXN Water released the names of 15 apartment complexes that owe more than $100,000 in unpaid water fees. Chapel Ridge was on the list. JXN Water spokesperson Aisha Carson said via email that they are “pursuing legal options to address these large-scale delinquencies across several properties.”

A “No Dumping” sign stands where a dumpster was previously located at Chapel Ridge Apartments, Thursday, June 12, 2025, in Jackson, Miss.

“While no shutoffs are imminent at this time, we are evaluating each case based on legal feasibility and the need to balance enforcement with tenant protections. Our focus is on transparency and accountability, not disruption—but we will act when needed to ensure the integrity of the system,” Carson said. 

And earlier this week, Chapel Ridge Apartments was declared a public nuisance. Martin said this gives the city of Jackson “the authority to come in, mow the grass and board up any of the units where people aren’t living.”

Martin said the situation is complicated, because the complex is owned by Chapel Ridge Apartments LLC. The limited liability corporation is owned by CRBM Realty Inc. and Crown Capital Holdings LLC, which are ultimately owned by Moshe “Mark” Silber. In April, Silber was sentenced to 30 months in prison for conspiracy to commit wire fraud affecting a financial institution. Earlier this month, both companies filed for bankruptcy in New Jersey.

An empty area where a dumpster was once placed is seen at Chapel Ridge Apartments, Thursday, June 12, 2025, in Jackson, Miss.

Now, Martin said the main goal is to find someone who can manage the property.

“Somebody’s got to be able to collect rent from you,” Martin said. “They got to be able to pay the water. They got to be able to pay the garbage. They got to be able to pay for the lights to be on. They got to maintain the property, so that’s our goal is to put that in place.” 

Chapel Ridge offers a rent scale based on household income. Those earning under 50% of the area median income — between $21,800 and $36,150 depending on household size — for example, pay $480 for a two-bedroom and $539 for a three-bedroom unit. Rent increases between $20 and $40 for those earning under 60% of the area median income.

Valarie Banks said that when she moved into Chapel Ridge nearly 13 years ago, it was a great community. The disabled mother and grandmother moved from West Jackson to the complex because it was neatly kept and quiet. 

“It was beautiful. I saw a lot of kids out playing. There were people that were engaging you when you came out. They were eager to help,” Banks said. “ I hope that they could bring this place back to the way it once was.”

But after months of uncertainty, Banks is preparing to move. She said she’s not the only one.

“I have somewhere to go, but I’m just trying to get my money together so I can be able to handle the deposits and the bills that come after you move,” she said. “All of my doctors are around here close to me. In 12 years, I made this place home for me. … I’ve been stacking my rent, but it’s still not enough if I want to move this month.”

While she said she’s holding onto her rent payments for the time being, she realizes that many of her fellow residents may not be as lucky. Without someone to maintain the apartments, some residents are finding themselves without basic amenities.

“Some people are in dire straits, because they don’t have a stove or a fridge or the air conditioner,” she said. “Their stove went out, or the fridge went out, or they stole the air conditioner while you’re in the apartment.”

Banks isn’t the only one who is formulating a plan to leave. One woman, who asked to remain anonymous, said she’s been trying to save money to move, but she already has $354 wrapped up in a money order that she’s unable to pass off for her rent, due to the property manager’s recent departure. 

“It really feels like an abandonment and just stressful to live where I’m living at right now. This just doesn’t happen. It just feels stressful. It doesn’t feel good at all,” she said. 

She’s trying to remain optimistic, but as each day passes without someone to maintain the property, she’s losing hope.

“ I just hope that things get better some day, somehow, hopefully, because if not, more than likely I’m going to have to leave because I can only take so much,” she said. “I can’t continue to deal with this situation of hoping and wishing somebody comes, and they don’t.”

This article first appeared on Mississippi Today and is republished here under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

The post Future uncertain for residents of abandoned south Jackson apartment complex appeared first on mississippitoday.org



Note: The following A.I. based commentary is not part of the original article, reproduced above, but is offered in the hopes that it will promote greater media literacy and critical thinking, by making any potential bias more visible to the reader –Staff Editor.

Political Bias Rating: Center-Left

This article from *Mississippi Today* primarily focuses on the struggles of low-income residents at Chapel Ridge Apartments, emphasizing the human impact of property mismanagement, regulatory gaps, and systemic neglect. The piece maintains a factual tone, but it centers the voices of vulnerable tenants and local officials seeking accountability—hallmarks of a center-left perspective. While it does not overtly advocate for policy change, the narrative framing highlights social injustice and institutional failures, subtly aligning with progressive concerns about housing equity and corporate responsibility.

Continue Reading

Trending