Isn’t By Jim Newell The courtroom in the small central Tennessee town of Greenburg was beyond warm in the May heat wave. It was steaming. The two large circulating fans that hung from the ceiling lazily chased each other in circles and stirred the air around without making anything or anybody cooler. Nevertheless, the air was electric with anticipation when Court Clerk Walter Grange stood up and made his announcement. “Order in the court. This session in the case of the State of Tennessee versus Jacky Paul Nelson, His Honour Judge Gabriel Holman presiding, will come to order. All rise.” With the court clerk’s announcement, the crowded courtroom struggled to its collective feet, the door to the judge’s chamber opened, and the rotund figure of Judge Holman entered and took his seat on a platform several feet above the floor of the room. The judge looked at the State Attorney’s table behind which the prosecutor, Gerald Copeland and Sheriff Billy Bob Turner stood, then glanced at the defence table to the right.
