OurTupelo

David Magee’s memoir is inspired by the last conversation he had with his late son.

“The last thing my son William had told me, like literally the last words, were, ‘Dad, you know, I hope you’ll tell our story one day,’” he recalled. “I didn’t really understand what that meant, and then I never saw him again.”

“Dear William,” a bestselling book, is about their family’s intergenerational struggles with addiction and mental illness. Now a feature film based on the book is being shot in Mississippi with help from an $800,000 grant from the Mississippi Attorney General’s Opioid Settlement Fund.

Magee is an author, speaker and Mississippi native. His oldest son and the book’s inspiration, William, died from an overdose. David Magee and his younger son Hudson are both in recovery from addiction, and his daughter struggled with an eating disorder. Magee and his wife live in Oxford. 

Magee explained that the grant money will go toward research and the film’s production. The rest of the film’s funding comes from in-kind donations from Magee and The Magee Foundation and from private investors. Donations and grants will cover the screenings.

“The film is a tool to (reach) the hearts and minds and students and families of Mississippi, and then beyond,” he said.

Principal photography began in Greenwood on Sept. 8. Greenwood was previously a filming location for “The Help,” “Mississippi Masala,” and the miniseries “Women of the Movement,” among others.

Additional filming will take place at the University of Mississippi in Oxford. Magee said filming should wrap within seven to nine months, and that talks with distributors have been promising.

He previously told the Clarion-Ledger newspaper that the Delta region would be a pilot community for the educational component of the project. He previously worked there as an editor.

Last year, Mississippi Today investigated how the state had spent less than 1% of the tens of millions of dollars it received from the opioid settlement lawsuits on directly addressing addiction and overdose deaths.

Most of that money – 85% –  is now managed by the Mississippi Opioid Settlement Fund Advisory Council and the Mississippi Legislature. The council reviews applications for projects that address Mississippi’s opioid crisis and makes recommendations to the Legislature on which ones to fund. 

Last year, the Legislature passed a bill expanding its ability to fund projects outside of the council’s recommendations.

Magee believes there should be more resources of all kinds for people impacted by addiction, and strongly believes in the power of storytelling to make an impact. 

“We’re not standard, and I own that,” he said of settlement funds being used to help produce the film. 

“But I think students and families need us, and the AGs and all these people who fought for the opioid settlement, they need somebody and some people to jump out there and try something new and different – also that happens to have a lot of evidence around it supporting that it just might work.”

The plan is to show screenings of the film to K-12 students across Mississippi, followed up by panel discussions and directing people to addiction abatement resources.

There are plans to expand screenings to college students, establish storytelling workshops in the Delta and set up an online hub with prevention resources.

Magee added that the Center for Research Evaluation at the University of Mississippi will also be doing research on the project.

“The opioid funds, if they don’t belong to making this movie, to take to students and taking this education to them, then I don’t know where it belongs,” he said.

Jarques Ratliff of Jackson was denied bond Monday after he pleaded not guilty to murder in the death of Tasia Fortune, whose body was found hanging in a tree in west Jackson in August.

Ratliff, 51, appeared at Jackson Municipal Court for his initial appearance Monday. 

In court, investigators revealed Ratliff tried to hide in a car on Friday, the day he was arrested. Prosecutors said he had prior charges of grand larceny and cocaine possession and several thousand dollars in traffic fines. No convictions were found for Ratliff via a search of the Mississippi Electronic Court system.

Ratliff’s attorney Toney Baldwin argued his client was gainfully employed and “a pillar of the community.” 

Judge Taurean Buchanan determined Ratfliff was a flight risk and denied his bond.

Ratliff, who is Black, was charged with murder for the death of Fortune, a 29 year-old Black woman who was found hanging from a tree outside a vacant home in west Jackson. The case drew national attention because the manner in which Fortune’s body was found hearkened back to Mississippi’s history of racist violence.

After court, Baldwin cautioned the public and the media from prejudging the case. He said his client made no confession, but could not provide further details on the investigation.

“I sympathize with the family, and therefore we want the truth to give the family closure,” Baldwin said.

The Jackson Police Department arrested Ratliff after the state medical examiner ruled Fortune’s death as a homicide. After the hearing Monday in Jackson Municipal Court, JPD Chief of Staff Tonya Norwood said the department has no further comment. 

The case is still active. JPD announced on Friday that additional arrests were expected.

The Associated Press reported that Christy Spivey, Fortune’s mother, said when she learned of the arrest, “I just started crying and told them ‘thank you, thank you, thank you.’”

Spivey, a Kentucky resident,  said the family was in “shock” and “disbelief.” She said she didn’t know Ratliff and was asking Fortune’s friends if they did.

Fortune, a mother of four, was a Kentucky native who ran away from home at 16 with someone she had met in foster care, her family earlier told Mississippi Today.

Gov. Tate Reeves on Monday announced 167 awards together worth over $104 million to providers across Mississippi for projects aimed at improving rural health care. 

The projects are a part of the state’s first three grant opportunities for healthcare providers funded by the federal Rural Health Transformation Program. The awards, which represent over half of the state’s funding through the program for this year, will be used to help rural hospitals, health clinics, mental health practitioners and other providers make facility improvements, expand service offerings, upgrade technology systems, bolster cybersecurity defenses and increase telehealth capacity. Reeves posted a full list of the awardees to his website Monday. 

“When you step back and look at these projects together, you really see something bigger than a list of grants,” Reeves said at a Monday press conference at his office. “You see a strategy built around Mississippi.”

Mississippi was awarded nearly $206 million in December as a part of the national $50 billion program. States will receive payments over five years for initiatives designed to bolster rural healthcare and offset the disproportionate impact that federal spending cuts Congress passed and that President Donald Trump signed into law in July 2025 are expected to have on rural hospitals.

The state received over 700 applications from 236 organizations for the initial three grant opportunities offered as a part of the program. Nearly 500 eligible applications requested roughly $450 million. 

Though the governor’s office initially allocated about $80 million for the grants, it increased the budget to $104 million in response to the high demand. 

The state’s 2nd Congressional District, which includes the Delta, most of Jackson and southwestern Mississippi, will receive roughly a third of the funding. Fifty-two projects were selected for roughly $31 million in funding. 

Healthcare providers in Jackson and other urban areas received funding because they serve rural communities in Mississippi and provide access to specialty and advanced care, Reeves said. 

“It can seem counterintuitive, but sometimes the smartest investment in rural healthcare isn’t necessarily physically located in a rural community,” he said. 

Mississippi’s 1st Congressional District, which includes the northeastern portion of the state, received the smallest amount of funding by district, amounting to $16 million for 32 awards. 

Applications for the funding were submitted in July, and recipients will have less than a year — until July 2027 — to use the funding.  

Reeves said the scoring rubrics used to grade applications will soon be available for the public to view. 

Mississippi’s funding plan includes a statewide rural health assessment and other initiatives to coordinate care, strengthen the workforce, create a statewide health information exchange, expand telehealth opportunities and improve infrastructure. 

Reeves is overseeing the distribution of the funds through the state’s newly established Rural Health Transformation Program Office, making Mississippi one of two states where the governor’s office directly manages the distribution of the money. Some lawmakers and other stakeholders have expressed disapproval over the governor’s control of the funds. 

“Governors know our state best, and governors know how to set priorities,” he said Monday. 

Awardees for several other grant programs, including $16.8 million for four grant programs aimed at addressing critical healthcare workforce shortages in rural communities and $14 million to create calm, therapeutic units at hospital emergency departments to improve crisis mental healthcare, will be awarded in 30 to 45 days, Reeves said. 

Reeves said Mississippi has submitted its request for second-year funding as part of the Rural Health Transformation Program to the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services and expects to receive word of the funding amount by November. 

Rural health pilot programs

Reeves in August announced pilot efforts that will use Rural Health Transformation Program dollars to combat obesity, serve obstetric care deserts and expand mental health services in rural Mississippi. The programs will operate through partnerships with the state Department of Health and Department of Mental Health. 

Reeves said Monday some, but not all, of the agreements have been signed, and staff will soon shift their attention to the programs. 

The Department of Mental Health in August signed interagency agreements with the Governor’s Office to oversee pilot programs to improve crisis mental healthcare at hospitals, establish a new telehealth program for veterans and first responders and expand access to training for behavioral healthcare staff. 

Funding amounts for the agreements with the Department of Mental Health obtained by Mississippi Today were redacted. Katie Storr, chief of staff for the Department of Mental Health, said the amounts were not disclosed because the agency is not required to disclose them while preparing for or conducting competitive procurement, and the amounts could change.

Two pilot programs will provide funding to crisis diversion centers located in Purvis and Pascagoula. These facilities serve as short-term inpatient facilities to care for and monitor people experiencing acute mental health or substance use crises, and act as an alternative to holding people in crisis in jails or treating them in emergency departments. 

The facilities selected for the funding demonstrated a need for additional capacity, are close to being ready to accept patients and have the support of local officials, Department of Mental Health spokesperson Adam Moore said to Mississippi Today in an email. 

“Our goal is to create more options for people experiencing a behavioral health crisis so that emergency departments, jails, and inpatient psychiatric hospitals are not the default simply because a more appropriate level of care is unavailable,” he said. 

The Purvis facility, which will serve Lamar, Forrest, Marion and Perry counties, will have 16 inpatient beds and a new, ‘living room’ area for de-escalation during shorter stays when a higher level of care is not necessary. The facility has finished construction but lacks the funds necessary to operate and fill vacant positions, Forrest County Sheriff Charlie Sims told Mississippi Today. 

Moore said Forrest and Lamar counties have among the highest numbers of people held in jail prior to admission to a state hospital, demonstrating a high need for the facility. Rita Porter, adult services director at Pine Belt Mental Healthcare Resources, added in an email that currently, many individuals must be transported to crisis stabilization programs outside the area. 

The Pascagoula facility run by South Mississippi Mental Health Center will use the funding to expand its existing location from eight to 16 beds. The funds will also strengthen nursing and security capacity, allowing the program to serve individuals with more complex needs, Moore said. He added that Jackson County, where the facility is located, has the fourth-highest number of state hospital admissions in Mississippi. 

The Department of Mental Health requested $650,000 from the state Legislature this year for the Pascagoula facility. Moore said the agency did not receive these funds from the state because the Rural Health Transformation Program provided an alternative opportunity for the funding. 

Jackson County Chancery Clerk Josh Eldridge, who handles civil commitment affidavits and works closely with South Mississippi Mental Health Center, said in an Aug. 28 phone call with Mississippi Today he was hopeful the facility would receive the funds but had not yet been informed the facility was selected. 

“If it’s a done deal, I need to start staffing up,” he said.

A workforce and reentry nonprofit funded with proceeds from the state’s prison industries and grants has lost over $5 million for the past two fiscal years, Mississippi’s legislative watchdog committee found. 

MAGCOR also lacks a documented financial system with internal controls resulting in at least one documented instance of fraud and abuse, according to the Joint Legislative Committee on Performance Evaluation and Expenditure Review. 

“Internal controls help to protect assets and reduce the risk of misstatements resulting from errors, omissions, oversights, and fraud,” the committee wrote in a report released Thursday.

That note stems from a questionable expense from last year that MACGOR’s current CEO, Garrett McInnis, informed PEER about and asked the state auditor’s office to investigate. The auditor’s office concluded that former CEO Bradey Lum embezzled funds and issued a payback demand of about $26,500. Lum repaid the money, according to the auditor’s office. 

PEER also raised concerns that, rather than having an in-house staff member oversee financials, the nonprofit uses an external comptroller and independent auditors.

In MAGCOR’s response to the findings, Chief Business Officer Daguerre Henry welcomed PEER’S review and recognized opportunities for improvement. But she also asked for the committee to look at the findings with the appropriate context to be able to see changes MAGCOR has made to its financial reporting, internal controls and more. 

For example, Henry said the bulk of the Fiscal Year 2025 net loss is attributed to the $2.7 million sale of a portion of the former Jackson Metrocenter Mall. 

MAGCOR also responded to net income loss from programs at the various prisons. PEER listed several that had a net loss in the past two fiscal years, including the metal fabrication program at the Central Mississippi Correctional Facility in Rankin County, garment production program at the Mississippi State Penitentiary at Parchman and a recycling operation.

Henry wrote that programming is periodically evaluated based on workforce-development value and financial performance. This helped make the decision to discontinue a textile operation at the South Mississippi Correctional Institution and the recycling program at the Jefferson-Franklin Regional Correctional Facility, she said. 

“MAGCOR remains committed to accurate and timely financial reporting, strong internal controls, sound financial stewardship, and continuous improvement while continuing to fulfill its statutory mission of providing meaningful work experiences and employment opportunities to individuals in the custody of the Mississippi Department of Corrections,” Henry wrote in the organization’s response.  

PEER recommends periodic evaluation of work programs and activities to balance profit and ensure they offer skills for prisoners upon release, adoption of a comprehensive system of internal controls and the hiring of a full-time, in-house, senior level employee responsible for accounting and financial operations. 

Questions about MAGCOR’s spending have been on lawmakers’ radar since the beginning of the year when House Corrections Committee Chair Becky Currie, a Republican from Brookhaven, asked PEER to look into the nonprofit’s financial records. 

On Friday, spokesperson Blake King told Mississippi Today that McInnis has taken an unpaid leave but remains part of the nonprofit’s team. 

Reporter Michael Goldberg contributed reporting

Mississippi’s college football weekend in review…

Let’s start with Mississippi State since the Bulldogs had by far the best showing and most important victory with a 38-13 whacking of Minnesota on the road. This one was every bit as one-sided as it sounds.

This won’t be the first time you have read this in this column, but Bulldog sophomore quarterback Kamario Taylor may well be State’s next Dak Prescott. The Big Ten Conference Golden Gophers learned it the hard way.

Taylor led the Bulldogs to touchdowns on their first four possessions. At times, he made it look exceedingly easy. He completed 16 of 22 passes for 227 yards and three touchdowns. He ran 13 times for another 86 yards. He could have run and thrown for a lot more had the need arisen.

Said Minnesota coach P.J. Fleck of Taylor: “In that first half he was having his way with us. That’s what great players do.”

Of State, Fleck said: “They spread you out so well, they can run the ball really well. They’re big up front. … Every one of them can run. Oh and by the way, their quarterback is one of the most dynamic runners in college football.”

Taylor doesn’t turn 20 until next February. He stands 6 feet, 4 inches inches and looks even taller In the pocket. He weighs 230 sculpted pounds. He possesses poise that belies his age. He reminds me of the great Reggie Collier as a runner and Prescott as a thrower.

Don’t just take it from me. Take it from Nick Saban who thus far has described Taylor in at least three different ways: “the best kept secret in college football,” “the truth and the light” and “the real deal.”

That will do for starters, and that’s not exactly breaking news to anyone who saw him play sparingly as a freshman or watched him grow up at Noxubee County. The news this September is that he is surrounded by more and better athletes.

State coach Jeff Lebby overhauled his roster with more than 60 new players. The improvements in the offensive line and at wide receiver are most dramatic.

That’s not all. State now has a healthier version of running back Fluff Bothwell, who was banged up much of last season. Bothwell ran for 113 yards and two touchdowns on 18 carries against the Golden Gophers.

Defensively, State appears bigger, stronger and faster, certainly far too fast for Minnesota, which ran for only 13 yards on 15 carries.

The 2-0 Bulldogs step up in competition this Saturday, playing at South Carolina, 2-0 and un-scored upon. But the Gamecocks have played their two games at home against Kent State and Towson, neither of which has an athlete as dynamic as the quarterback they will face this Saturday.

Ole Miss 41, Charlotte 9

We won’t spend a lot of time on the Rebels’ conquest of the 49ers, who in no way, shape or form resemble the 49ers who play in San Francisco. Charlotte, an overtime loser to The Citadel in its opener, was no match for Ole Miss, nor is it supposed to be.

The stars shone for Ole Miss, as expected. Trinidad Chambliss completed 23 of 26 passes for 225 yards and two touchdowns. Some guys don’t go 23 for 26 in warmups. Kewan Lacy, who appeared fit after an injury scare six days earlier, ran 13 times for 87 yards and two touchdowns. Deuce Alexander caught eight balls for 76 yards. That was the good.

Now, here’s the bad: The Ole Miss secondary, porous against a good Louisville team in the opener, made some of the same mistakes against Charlotte, a bad team. Make those same mistakes this Saturday in the long-awaited showdown with LSU and he who shall not be named, and the Rebels will be in for a long night. Say what you want to about he shall who not be named, he knows how to pick apart a team’s weakness. Currently, the Ole Miss secondary, which does have some health issues, is a clear and present weakness.

Pete Golding, a former defensive safety himself, is frustrated. Ole Miss needs a healthy Antonio Kite and Sharif Denson back for LSU. Both were missing Saturday. Both didn’t play in the second half against Louisville when the Cardinals torched the Rebel secondary.

Meanwhile, after some early struggles, LSU took care of Louisiana Tech 45-14 after leading only 10-7 at halftime.

Two stats stood out to me: One, Louisiana Tech, which scored 80 in its opener, had negative yards rushing against LSU. Two, Sam Leavitt, the quarterback LSU is paying $5 million, threw three interceptions, including a pick-six against Tech.

LSU’s defense has allowed a not-so-grand total of 37 yards rushing through two games. Ole Miss has to find a way to run for far more than that Saturday night. Both teams enter the rivalry weekend 2-0, with LSU at No. 7 and Ole Miss at No. 8 in the AP Top 25.

Auburn 45, Southern Miss 8

Hard to measure these Golden Eagles, who feature 72 new players after two games. Both were mismatches. Southern Miss was vastly superior, talent-wise, to Alcorn State, whom they swamped in their opener. Auburn was every bit as vastly superior to the Golden Eagles. 

A nightmarish start – an Auburn pick-six on the first scrimmage play of the game – set the tone. Auburn was bigger, stronger, quicker, faster and clearly more ready to play. What else is there?

The talent level should be much closer this Saturday when UConn comes to Hattiesburg for a first-ever meeting.

UConn’s season thus far is pretty much a mirror image of USM’s. The Huskies out-manned Lafayette 56-7 in their opener and then dropped a 38-14 decision at home to Maryland of the Big Ten Conference in their second outing.

Southern Miss offers a better and far more fair test for UConn, as does UConn for Southern Miss.

Jackson State

Jackson State, 2-0, was off last weekend. The Tigers return to action this Saturday at home against the 1-1 Golden Tigers of Tuskegee.

She reported that the deputy touched her, over and over — across her back, on her knee and up her leg. He clasped her hand, lifted her T-shirt sleeve and ran his thumb across the back of her fingers. 

When she rejected his advances, he assured her they could have sex in “secret,” she wrote in a complaint to his employer, the Rankin County Sheriff’s Department. Again, she said no.

Joanna Karras is convinced few people would believe what Deputy Michael Cody Rayborn did to her last October during her Saturday night shift as a 911 dispatcher at the Florence Police Department if it hadn’t been partially caught by a security camera just above their heads. 

Towering above her at over 6 feet tall, the 31-year-old deputy walked into the station just minutes before midnight and cut the lights off.

The two had crossed paths for years through their work in Rankin law enforcement, but Karras said the deputy had no apparent reason to drop by. The patrol deputy wrote in his employee timesheet that he was working the night shift. But he had entered another police department and flopped into a chair to watch TV right next to Karras. 

Two details put the 28-year-old dispatcher on edge: Rayborn was in full uniform, complete with a gun and Taser, and they were alone.

Mississippi Today obtained the silent footage showing what happened next: Rayborn touched her repeatedly on her hand, arm, back and leg area across the next half-hour as she sat, backed into a corner.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Karras recalled asking Rayborn, according to a sworn statement she later filed to launch a criminal case against him.

“You have something to fix it,” she said the deputy replied, while eyeing her genital area.

In court records, she accused the deputy of repeatedly pressuring her to have sex with him, stopping only when her coworker, Ashten George, came by to drop off food.

“Your actions were improper, they were inappropriate, they were unwanted, they were unprofessional,” Rankin County Court Judge David Morrow Jr. told the deputy after reviewing the video at a June hearing to determine whether a warrant could be issued for his arrest.

Then, the judge dismissed the simple assault charge.

Rayborn walked out of court. Not only had he avoided arrest, but he had kept his job at the sheriff’s department just next door.

“It’s a scary, scary feeling to know that he thinks he can get away with everything, anything,” Karras told Mississippi Today. “Why is he not facing any consequences?”

Mississippi Today found Rayborn’s reported treatment of Karras was one of multiple allegations of sexual misconduct and brutality made against Rayborn through his career. The accusations date back at least eight years, to the beginning of his time at the sheriff’s department, where he was among a group of guards accused of perpetuating a culture of unjustified violence against inmates at the county jail.

In interviews with Mississippi Today, former inmates said Rayborn’s quick temper drove him to abuse his authority over them, and then threaten or retaliate against them to keep them from speaking out.

Carvis Johnson, who has a long history of disciplinary infractions, filed a federal lawsuit against Rayborn and other guards in January 2020, accusing them of beating him so severely they violated his civil rights. The next month, Johnson initiated another lawsuit, this time accusing Rayborn of retaliating against him by withholding showers for weeks and walking him out of view of a security camera so Rayborn and other guards he was suing could beat him. 

The Rankin County Sheriff’s Department denied Johnson’s allegations, writing in court records that the guards acted “in good faith” and “without any intent to cause harm.” His lawsuits were combined, and the agency settled with him in 2023.

The sheriff’s department and the state Department of Public Safety denied Mississippi Today’s requests for public records detailing misconduct allegations and investigations into Rayborn. Both departments stated the information was shielded under the Public Records Act, even though the Mississippi Ethics Commission has ruled that same state law requires law enforcement agencies to release certain records tied to internal affairs investigations upon request. 

Mississippi Today traced the accusations that have trailed Rayborn’s career by interviewing alleged victims and corroborating their accounts with witnesses, surveillance footage and records obtained by attorneys who sued the department.

The reporting paints a picture of a sheriff’s department that has maintained Rayborn’s position as an officer despite repeated warnings about his alleged misconduct from purported victims:

• Rayborn is one of at least four sheriff’s officers who remain at the department despite accusations they brutalized inmates at the county jail. Records show that before Rayborn became a deputy, at least four inmates reported to jail officials that he beat them, hurled racial slurs or threatened to kill them over his four years as a guard. In all except one case reviewed by Mississippi Today, departmental officials denied their claims.
• The sheriff’s department hired Rayborn as a deputy just four months after it settled Johnson’s lawsuit against him. With the new title, the department expanded Rayborn’s authority beyond the jail, to the county and the public at large. 
• Florence officials banned Rayborn from the city police department and other property in the Rankin County municipality after Karras reported to Mayor Trey Gunn that the deputy had sexually harassed her.
• Despite Department of Justice recommendations and a history of sexual abuse that landed some Rankin County deputies in prison, Mississippi Today found the sheriff’s department has no specific rule prohibiting officers from abusing their authority to sexually violate civilians. Instead, departmental procedure broadly states that “No form of harassment will be tolerated” but doesn’t specify consequences for violators. After Karras filed a complaint to the sheriff’s department to report Rayborn for sexual harassment, sheriff’s Investigator Tyler Burnell said, the agency launched an internal affairs investigation into her allegations. Records show the agency ultimately decided to keep the deputy on the force.

Mississippi Today repeatedly sought comment from Rayborn by email and in person. He did not respond to emails and walked away both times a reporter approached him. The public defender appointed to represent him in the assault case, Daniel Sorrick, also did not respond to an interview request.

When Mississippi Today asked Jason Dare, the department’s attorney and spokesperson, for an interview with the agency, he instead referred to a previous statement he made about Karras’ complaint: “The Sheriff’s Office took appropriate action upon learning of this incident. The department’s findings do not appear to be inconsistent with the Court’s recent ruling.”

Neither Dare nor Burnell answered follow-up questions about whether the department found Rayborn violated the agency’s harassment procedure or disciplined him over Karras’ allegations. Instead, Dare wrote, “You know that no criminal act was committed — state or federal.”

When a law enforcement agency learns an officer has allegedly engaged in sexual misconduct on the job, “at a minimum,” the agency should launch a separate criminal investigation and notify local prosecutors or the FBI to determine whether the allegations amount to a crime, according to Department of Justice guidelines. The sheriff’s department did not answer whether it followed these steps in response to Karras’ complaint.

Lawmakers gave the state Board on Law Enforcement Officer Standards and Training the power to investigate allegations of police misconduct after five former officers from the sheriff’s department pleaded guilty to torture in 2023. The board’s office also ultimately closed its investigation of Karras’ complaint without taking any action, according to Public Safety Commissioner Sean Tindell.

Tindell, who sits on the board, said he was not familiar with Karras’ complaint and declined to view and comment on footage of the encounter in case the incident leads to further litigation.

The state attorney general’s office, which prosecutes abuse of power by public officials, initially declined to pursue a criminal investigation after Karras reported the deputy to the agency. After Mississippi Today provided footage of the encounter to the office, spokesperson MaryAsa Lee stated on Sept. 4 that the agency would review it.

Tom Tremblay, a former Vermont police chief and public safety commissioner who now advises law enforcement agencies on handling sexual misconduct, said if departments find an officer has engaged in “sexual contact” while on the job, the proper response is to fire them.

“A predatory sexual offender with the power and authority of the police is an extremely serious breach of the ethics of law enforcement,” said Tremblay, who spoke generally about the issue but did not specifically review Rayborn’s case. “They ought not to be part of our noble profession.”

The allegations against Rayborn come after five former officers at the sheriff’s department were sentenced to federal and state prison in 2024 for sexually assaulting and abusing Rankin County residents in what a federal judge called “the most shocking, brutal and cruel acts imaginable.” Since the scandal, the sheriff’s department’s “systems of accountability” have been under investigation by the Department of Justice to determine whether the agency is violating the Constitution and federal law. 

The former officers, some of whom called themselves the Goon Squad, had built careers under the sheriff, some rising to high ranks and winning awards for their work. While Sheriff Bryan Bailey stated the “inappropriate conduct” was contained to an “isolated group of deputies,” an investigation by Mississippi Today and The New York Times uncovered that allegations of brutality and sexual misconduct by officers spanned decades, with some personnel involved still at the department.

“Even though the prior actions were abnormal and extreme, we will make every effort to ensure that they do not occur in the future,” Bailey wrote in a 2023 press release after the officers tied to the Goon Squad pleaded guilty. 

But three years later, Rayborn’s alleged victims and witnesses say the sheriff’s department continues to support a deputy they have accused of similar abuses.

“What has to happen for somebody to be held accountable?” Karras asked. “If he gets away with it, who else is getting away with it?”

A ‘lifesaving’ deputy leaves behind a trail of misconduct allegations

Karras remembered Rayborn as the officer who came to her aid three years before that October night at the police department.

According to Karras, the two had met working together at the Florence Police Department, where Rayborn got his first gig as a cop after leaving his post as a guard at the county jail. Police records show a few days before Christmas 2022, Karras came to Rayborn, saying she was afraid her ex-boyfriend would try to kill a longtime officer in their department who had pulled him over in the past.

She told Rayborn that her ex started making threats against their coworker around Halloween while she was working a busy night shift taking 911 calls. Frustrated that she wasn’t responding to him quickly enough, her former partner texted her that he would “blast” her colleague the next time the officer stopped him, she said.

Karras had already reported her ex to the police a month earlier after she refused his demands to use her job to find out where officers had allegedly pulled over and arrested his mother in a drug stop. Incensed, he texted her that he would “pull up on them and blast.” 

To back up his threats, he sent a photo of a gun outfitted with a drum magazine.

After Karras flagged her ex to Rayborn, he documented her reports in official records. Her former partner never acted on his threats, and by the summer, he pleaded guilty to threatening to shoot up Karras’ department.

After his start as a cop, Rayborn served six months at the larger Richland Police Department, quickly garnering recognition as an officer who helped those in need.

“Bravo,” a supervisor wrote after he revived a woman who had passed out from a suspected drug overdose. Republican Rep. Casey Eure of Saucier was so impressed after Rayborn and a group of officers assisted his teenage daughter with a car issue that he deemed them “Richland’s finest.”

Three months after Karras reported Rayborn to the sheriff’s department, accusing him sexual harassment, Sheriff Bailey honored him with another accolade. Bailey presented the deputy with a gold medal in the shape of a sheriff’s star — the Lifesaving Award — for giving first aid to a man who had hurt himself while cleaning a gun. 

Karras ran across the image on Facebook, where the sheriff’s department posted it was “proud” to announce Rayborn had received the award. 

“That, to me, was like the sheriff smacking my face,” Karras said.

Call records show that the day after she filed her complaint through the online portal, which the department launched in a package of reforms after the Goon Squad cases, sheriff’s investigators reviewed her allegations and contacted her. But Bailey has the “ultimate authority” under departmental procedures to determine the outcome of misconduct investigations and impose discipline “based on the facts of the case.”

He was in the Facebook photo, standing beside Rayborn, applauding.

‘No accountability’: An officer’s career allegedly starts with brutal beginnings

At the Rankin County jail, at least seven former inmates said they saw another side to the officer when he was a jail guard in grievances to jail officials, a federal lawsuit and interviews with Mississippi Today. In a federal complaint, one inmate named Rayborn as a part of a pack of guards who allegedly beat him so badly he feared they would one day kill him.

Mississippi Today found that during Rayborn’s tenure as a guard from 2017 to 2021, at least four of the seven inmates filed misconduct grievances with jail officials and complaints in federal court accusing him of walking them off camera to dole out brutal beatings, racially discriminating against them and threatening to kill them — sometimes as supervisors stood by — in response to inconveniences and nonviolent infractions.

Three more inmates came forward in interviews with Mississippi Today to report that they, too, had experienced or witnessed sexual misconduct or unjustified violence from Rayborn but were too afraid to report it to jail officials. Some were awaiting their day in court and said they feared speaking out could result in harsher sentences. Others said they were afraid of losing their privileges as high-ranking inmates called trusties.

Each allegation against Rayborn is contained in reports to jail officials, court records or accounts by alleged witnesses.

Tremblay, the former Vermont police chief and public safety commissioner, said when officers use excessive force or otherwise abuse their power, it should serve as a “red flag” to their department that they may go on to commit sexual misconduct.

But when inmates did report Rayborn to the jail for misconduct, records show officials denied their claims in every case reviewed by Mississippi Today but one — when an inmate reported in a 2018 grievance that after he repeatedly asked for tissues, the guard called him a “bitch,” “a stupid MF,” and a “dumb black MF,” referred to the inmate’s “black ass”  and threatened to kill him and his family. Jail records show in response, officials verbally reprimanded and temporarily reassigned Rayborn.

In two cases, jail officials denied that any misconduct occurred, even when the inmates said Rayborn attacked them before other officers or the facility’s security cameras.

During Rayborn’s final months at the jail in the summer of 2021, one inmate accused facility officials of covering up the guard’s reported brutality. Frederick Waters, now 63, wrote in a grievance that after he was “beaten” by Rayborn and Jordan McQueary, another guard with a documented history of violence against inmates, jail officials locked him in solitary confinement for a month with serious, untreated injuries. 

By that fall, jail officials had denied Waters’ grievance, and Rayborn had become a police officer in Florence.

According to the guards’ reports, they struck, slapped and grabbed Waters after he called Rayborn a “cocksucker” while numerous officers and a supervisor watched. The inmate wrote he had turned around and insulted the guards because they “pushed” him through a doorway while escorting him.

The guards alleged that after Waters “spun around in an aggressive manner,” McQueary “struck the inmate first” in the face “to get control of the situation” while Rayborn grabbed him as he continued to “resist.” Numerous other officers reported witnessing the three “fighting” on the ground.

After a hearing, Paul Holley — then the department’s legal counsel — ruled the inmate failed to prove he was “beaten” by the two guards.

“Whereas there was a physical altercation that transpired, the evidence suggests that this was initiated by Inmate Waters as he disrespected officers and prevented them from closing the door to the dorm,” wrote Holley, who resigned as Sheriff Bailey’s right-hand man in 2023 after the Goon Squad officers’ guilty pleas.

Holley did not respond to a request for comment from Mississippi Today.

But after reviewing jail records detailing the incident, Corene Kendrick, deputy director of the National Prison Project at the American Civil Liberties Union, called it a dangerous “overreaction” for the guards to strike an unarmed inmate in the head — a form of force that many correctional experts and physicians recommend as a last resort because it can inflict deep, invisible injuries to the brain, one of the body’s softest organs.

“The response should not be to fly off the handle and try to prove your manliness by beating the tar out of somebody who just called you a name, but rather, to act as a professional and deescalate the situation,” Kendrick said. “It just sounds like they rubber stamped what the (officers) did and there was no accountability.”

Jail records show after a nurse cleared Waters, officials locked him in solitary confinement for assaulting and threatening the guards.

But Waters alleged officials put him in lockdown to cover up how much Rayborn and McQueary had hurt him. He wrote in his grievance that the two guards left him with a long list of injuries — a broken nose and finger, two black eyes, facial fractures, a ruptured ear drum and a concussion — but the facility treated none of them.

The jail’s medical records stated that Waters sustained only a “small” cut on his nose and cheek, which a nurse cleaned. In jail reports, officers denied that he sustained “serious” injuries.

Jarrod Boykin, who was serving a year as a jail trusty, said he witnessed the two guards breaking Waters’ nose and finger. But the jail left those injuries untreated because the facility doesn’t want to take inmates to medical staff while they’re in solitary confinement, according to Boykin. 

He told Mississippi Today that for the last five years, he had never spoken publicly about what he saw because Rayborn threatened to have him removed as a trusty, which could have sent him to prison for up to a decade.

Jail records show the facility’s security cameras captured the altercation, but the sheriff’s department did not respond to a July public records request seeking footage of the incident.

Mississippi Today previously obtained jail surveillance video showing McQueary punching another inmate so hard he broke the man’s jaw in 2022, even though officers denied in jail reports that the inmate sustained “serious” injuries. Afterward, officials locked the man in an isolation cell for 25 days until he developed a deep infection that required surgery, according to jail records.

Waters said in solitary confinement, his injuries were forced to heal unseen and untreated. As a result, his broken nose reportedly healed crooked. Waters’ nose appears crooked in his recent mugshot, after he went to state prison for shoplifting and drug possession in June, a week after Rayborn’s simple assault charge from Karras was dismissed.

“They should be held accountable for their actions. Society made me pay for what I did,” Waters told Mississippi Today. “They’re no better than I am.”

‘Please help me before they kill me’: A federal lawsuit unearths more reports of violence

Other inmates echoed that Rayborn abused his position of authority by doling out threats and beatings to silence people from speaking out about his conduct, and to punish anyone who did.

Johnson, the inmate who initiated two civil rights lawsuits against Rayborn, alleged in court records that Rayborn and a group of officers he was suing tried to “kill” him in 2020 after his family posted on Facebook that officers were attacking him in racial assaults.

After the post garnered hundreds of shares in just days, Rayborn and two other guards he was suing retaliated against him by walking him away from a security camera so they could “beat” him unseen, Johnson alleged in a federal complaint. He reported that Rayborn punched him in the mouth four times while one guard choked him and another kicked him to the ground.

“Please help me before they kill me,” Johnson’s complaint stated. “I fear for my life at this jail.”

Court records show the sheriff’s department settled with Johnson in 2023. In his statement to Mississippi Today, the agency’s attorney, Dare, referred to Rayborn by his middle name and denied that anybody of that name had ever faced a federal civil lawsuit — even though he represented the man against Johnson’s complaints. 

Dare did not answer Mississippi Today’s questions about how much the sheriff’s department paid to settle the case, but Johnson stated in court records that he was paid a $30,000 settlement.

A couple months after settling with Johnson, the sheriff’s department brought Rayborn on as a deputy.

Missing records obscure officer’s track record

It remains publicly unknown just how many misconduct complaints the sheriff’s department has dealt with against Rayborn, partly because the agency stated it doesn’t keep records that could shed light on the total, Mississippi Today found.

The news organization learned of the issue after Dare initially denied a reporter’s public records request seeking materials that would confirm the total, stating the information was shielded under state law.

When the reporter showed Dare a state Ethics Commission ruling that appears to compel the sheriff’s department to release any email notices the agency sent to confirm it received a complaint, Dare replied the department did not retain these “auto-reply” messages and accused the reporter of “harassment.”

Dare stopped responding when Mississippi Today raised that the department’s actions seem to conflict with state law, as the Mississippi Department of Archives and History requires counties to wait at least two years before destroying that type of document, and perhaps even longer if it’s involved in an investigation or court case.

No arrest, no crime

Months after the unwanted attention from Rayborn, Karras said she had grown tired of waiting for the sheriff’s department to deliver the accountability she was seeking. She said Rayborn couldn’t be trusted with a badge, and she decided to take her fight to court.

When the judge dismissed the case just a week later, Karras said the experience showed her how difficult it is to hold an officer responsible for sexual misconduct in Mississippi, even with video evidence.

Years after the #MeToo movement sparked a national reckoning over the prevalence of sexual harassment, Mississippi is still one of the only states in the country without any law that clearly makes it a crime when adults are generally groped or otherwise touched sexually without their consent, according to Mississippi Today’s nationwide review of state sex-crime laws.

Prosecutors, law enforcement officials and lawmakers say because Mississippi doesn’t spell out groping as a crime and define clear punishments, the legal gap can create challenges in holding perpetrators accountable. 

“The more we can close the gap, the more we can help prosecutors and victims get more of a measurement that their cases are being taken seriously,” said Kimberly Campbell, a former Democratic state representative for Hinds and Madison counties who sought to pass a bill in 2013 that would’ve punished groping with jail time and a fine. “When we lack it, the victims are left thinking that there’s no recourse.”

Without such a law, victims and prosecutors seeking justice for these cases often turn to assault charges that weren’t written to address groping. 

That’s what Karras found herself doing in June, when she filed a simple assault charge against Rayborn for putting her “in fear of imminent serious bodily harm.” 

She recounted in a sworn statement how the deputy’s anger flared as she rejected his sexual advances, until he turned red and sweat dripped down his face. She said that as his touches grew bolder — from holding her hand to grazing up toward her thigh — she was too afraid to physically resist him.

To her, the gun and Taser holstered at his hips served as constant reminders of just how much he could hurt her if she shoved his hands off or pushed past him to run away. 

“Are you fucking rejecting me,” she recalled Rayborn asking her while leaning forward. 

“I was in fear for my life at this point,” she wrote in her sworn statement. Karras told Mississippi Today she was afraid the deputy would become so angry he would snap, grab his gun and shoot her.

After reviewing the footage, Judge Morrow ruled differently.

While groping often doesn’t leave bodily injuries, state law requires simple assault to involve physical pain. At a minimum, a perpetrator must try to inflict injury on a victim — such as by shooting at them — or put the victim in fear that they’re about to seriously hurt them. 

To Morrow, the case didn’t meet that legal standard. 

“It has to be a fear of imminent serious bodily harm, not a fear of what might happen in the future,” Morrow ruled at the special hearing that law enforcement officers are guaranteed under state law to determine whether a warrant can be issued for their arrest. “He’s a Rankin County deputy; he’s armed there. But he didn’t reach for a gun, he didn’t reach for a weapon.”

Fara Gold, a former Department of Justice prosecutor who specialized in bringing sexual misconduct cases against law enforcement, said officers often don’t need to grab their guns and Tasers to coerce victims because the power that comes with their badge already gives them the “weapon of authority.”

That’s why in 2022, Congress made it a federal felony whenever law enforcement officers violate an individual’s civil rights by groping them on their genitals, breasts or inner thighs. Before the change, it was only a misdemeanor if the officer didn’t injure the victim or use a weapon.

The new statute removed that barrier, meaning the crime could put an officer in prison for up to 40 years.

Gold said while the state charge was dismissed, Rayborn could be federally charged under that law, depending on where he touched Karras.

Despite repeated denials of Karras’ allegation from the county court and a state agency, she now plans to pursue federal charges against the deputy or a civil lawsuit.

Federal government investigating former employer

Karras said that, by speaking out against the deputy, she performed “career suicide” in law enforcement. She set herself against a culture of brotherhood that makes officers reluctant to hold their own accountable, even at the police department where she worked.

Now, the federal government is investigating whether the first place Karras turned to — her then-employer, the city of Florence — discriminated against her for reporting that a deputy sexually harassed her.

The Equal Employment Opportunity Commission, the federal agency against workplace discrimination, launched an investigation after Karras resigned from her dream job as a police dispatcher in April. She alleged that Rayborn’s friendship with the city’s police leaders — including the chief — colored how they treated his actions, pushing them to invalidate, bully and ostracize her.

As a part of its investigation, the commission could decide as soon as November whether Karras can go ahead with the next step she wants to take against her former employer: suing the city for workplace discrimination.

Florence Mayor Gunn declined an interview with Mississippi Today on the city’s behalf, citing “pending litigation.”

“However, I do want to say that I genuinely care about the people who work for this city and take all of their concerns and complaints seriously,” Gunn wrote in a statement. “The City vehemently denies any wrongdoing in this matter.”

But Karras said that from the moment she reported her accusations that Rayborn sexually harassed her at her workplace, his personal relationship with her superiors, Florence Police Chief Brad Burns and Lt. Brennan Alexander, hung over her head. Their shared work in law enforcement had brought the three officers together, and before the encounter, Rayborn often popped by the station for lunch, according to Karras and two other former employees.

Alexander was the one to handle the police department’s initial response to Karras’ sexual harassment report, according to communications between her and city leaders. But Karras felt the lieutenant was approaching the incident like Rayborn’s friend, not her boss, so she escalated the situation up to Mayor Gunn.

She wrote to the mayor that Alexander prohibited Rayborn from the station only during her shifts, which were scheduled at night, but allowed the deputy to come by during the day because the officers were “friends” and needed to “hang out.” Then, Karras stated, the lieutenant seemed to act as Rayborn’s intermediary, telling her that the deputy — who he described as a “touchy feely” guy — wanted to talk to her about the encounter and explained that the two “joke like that all the time,” which Karras called a “lie.”

Less than two weeks later, the mayor initiated a blanket ban against Rayborn, barring him from the police department and neighboring city hall unless he was on official business as a deputy.

Florence’s city policy explicitly prohibits sexual harassment of employees. But because Rayborn wasn’t a Florence employee, city attorney Robert Lingold said the administration had limited authority to discipline him.

“We couldn’t fire him,” Lingold said. “We couldn’t reprimand him. We couldn’t do anything but ban him from the property.”

Fall dragged into winter and then spring, but Karras didn’t feel like the unwelcome treatment by the deputy was behind her. She said for months after the incident, her superiors treated her unfairly by belittling her concerns, until she felt she had to resign.

Mississippi Today obtained a letter from her supervisor, Sheena Dee McCrory, that offers a firsthand glimpse into how superiors viewed Karras’ concerns. After Karras sought administrative leave to cope with the fallout of the deputy’s behavior toward her, Chief Burns rejected her request and said she “should get over it and move on,” instead of continuing to “dwell” on the “situation,” McCrory wrote in a letter to Lingold.

The chief’s words upset Karras, but McCrory didn’t see a problem with them.

“The Administration’s investigation and action taken in response to the Ms. Karras and Deputy Rayborn ‘situation’ was effective, efficient, and handled as discreetly as possible,” McCrory’s letter concluded.

But in the fallout of the incident, the Florence Police Department lost more dispatchers, who felt police leaders treated Karras unfairly for reporting one of their own. Taylor Busby said her superiors’ dismissive attitude toward Rayborn’s conduct pushed her to speed up her plans to leave the department and enroll in the Navy.

And George, the coworker who witnessed the end of the deputy’s behavior toward Karras, put in her resignation letter after she felt police leaders also targeted her for supporting Karras’ allegations. After a long night working her last shift at the station in June, she came to Rayborn’s court hearing hoping to testify against him. She was never called to the stand.

“How can you feel safe in a space where one of your people, one of your employees, is assaulted on duty in a police department, and admin does nothing but bury it and throw it under the rug?” Busby asked.

Nearly a year after the encounter with the deputy, Karras said the anger in his eyes constantly lingers in her mind. She sees a therapist to deal with the psychological toll: a cycle of panic attacks, anxiety and depression. When she steps foot in Rankin County, she fears every time she sees a deputy’s car that Rayborn will be behind the wheel.

And five months after she resigned from the Florence Police Department, she still hasn’t been able to pick up another job doing what she loves most: helping people on the other side of 911 calls through the worst moments of their lives.

“In the law enforcement realm, it’s taboo to speak out and come forward, and most of the time career-ending,” Karras said. “They should be protecting the victims and not the perpetrators.”

On Sept. 11, 2001, media members working in the fourth floor pressroom of the Mississippi Capitol were keeping an eye on a portable television on a filing cabinet.

The immediacy of the internet was not then what it is today, so the small box television was the only instant access to the outside world. It was difficult to stop watching the television.

A commercial jet had already been seen on national television in real time slamming into the south tower of the World Trade Center in New York. People watched as the twin towers tumbled.

Would another horrible event unfold on live TV?

Reporters covering the Mississippi Capitol did not have much else to do that horrible day. A meeting of the powerful Legislative Budget Committee had been scheduled for that morning but was canceled as the tragedy unfolded in New York, Washington and rural Pennsylvania.

Gathering the obligatory quotes on the unprecedented American tragedy from state politicians was the primary task of members of the Capitol press corps.

“We are deeply saddened and alarmed by these cowardly attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon,” then-Gov. Ronnie Musgrove said. “We are monitoring this situation closely and will take all necessary security precautions at the state level. Our thoughts and prayers are with the families of those killed and injured in these attacks.”

In reality, there was much that could be – perhaps needed to be – done on the state level, especially at the Mississippi Capitol.

Before that tragic day, people came and went unimpeded into state buildings, including the Capitol. No less than eight entrances into the building were never locked or secured by law enforcement during business hours and sometimes they were still unlocked after business hours.

In such a massive building, there was no way to monitor who was coming and going if all the doors were open without security.

Then-House Speaker Billy McCoy, a Prentiss County Democrat, said on that day that everything changed.

No longer, he predicted, would people be able to move freely into and out of public buildings and public events.

McCoy’s prediction quickly came true, and restrictions remain in place 25 years after four commercial aircraft were turned into weapons to kill nearly 3,000 people on American soil.

The general public’s entrances to the Mississippi Capitol are limited to two, and they are reinforced by security, metal detectors and scanners.

As McCoy predicted, stronger security was in place just a few days after the attacks, on Sept. 20, when Mississippi State hosted South Carolina in the first college football game played after  Sept. 11.

A story retelling the historic game, in the State newspaper in Columbia, South Carolina, described the security put in place, including a no-fly zone over Davis-Wade Stadium in Starkville.

“The placement of the security, the amount of security was all very important, but we didn’t want it to look like a military presence,” Musgrove said in the article. “We wanted the fans to enjoy the game and we wanted the nation through TV and other means to enjoy the game.”

Efforts to maintain balance – between security and convenience – continue today.

Late in the afternoon of Sept. 11, 2001, long lines formed at gas stations as Americans started to panic about whether more attacks were coming. Spikes were reported in the cost of gasoline.

Two political rivals, Musgrove and Attorney General Mike Moore, both Democrats, announced a joint news conference just outside of one of those once unguarded doors on the eastern side of the state Capitol. It was a rare site for a press conference, and that just added to the surreal feeling of the day.

The rivals announced jointly that Musgrove was declaring a state of emergency to prevent the spike in gas prices after it was reported that the attorney general’s office received more than 2,000 calls about price gouging that day as rumors circulated that the attack would impact the supply of gasoline.

Musgrove told Mississippi Today five years ago that his emergency declaration was to highlight that price spiking was illegal. “It seemed like an appropriate thing to do, though I was more focused on security risks related to 9/11.”

Musgrove and Moore’s press conference received a brief mention in national news, though in the scope of the day, price gouging in Mississippi or events at a state Capitol far from the attacks on the East Coast seemed like small concerns.

GAUTIER — When a 12-foot, 4-inch alligator jumped out of the water, Zoe Pell realized the hunt this year would be much different from the year before. 

“As soon as he drove up out of the water, he jumped and we realized that this wasn’t a little like we thought,” Zoe said. “We realized that it was a lot bigger than what we imagined.”

The 15-year-old from Utica had caught a 6-foot, 7-inch alligator during her first hunt with Southern Outdoors Unlimited, a nonprofit that connects disabled youth with guided hunting opportunities through volunteer hunters, in 2025. In 2026, she brought in an alligator nearly twice that size. 

“It was a really big fight,” Zoe said. “He, he kept going to the bottom and staying at the bottom. He was not coming up at all.” 

For Zoe and her mother, Ashley Pell, the hunt represented more than the size of the alligator. It was another sign of how far Zoe has come since an illness changed her life.

Only hunting remained 

When Zoe was 3 years old, she was diagnosed with Behcet’s disease, a rare inflammatory disorder that can affect blood vessels throughout the body. 

“It’s a painful disorder,” Ashley explained. “It kind of has the same symptoms of arthritis, so you have the inflammation and the blood pain of an arthritic in the joints.” 

Even though Zoe was diagnosed with Behcet’s, she was still able to go to school, play softball and basketball and ride horses. But three years ago, Zoe woke up one morning and was partially paralyzed on her right side. 

After she was rushed to the doctor, medical staff determined Zoe also had ANCA-associated vasculitis, a group of rare autoimmune disorders that cause inflammation in small and medium blood vessels. 

“(The doctor) told me that what I have is rare, and that it would put me in, probably a wheelchair one day,” Zoe said.

Behcet’s disease has no cure, although treatment can help control symptoms. ANCA-associated vasculitis can be treated into remission but may relapse. As part of her treatment, Zoe had to start a regimen of chemotherapy, steroids and IVs and stop doing activities that caused stress on her body. 

“My doctor basically told me that I had to give up everything, that hunting and stuff was probably about the only thing I could do,” she said. “I gave up school, softball, basketball. I gave up all my sports. Almost gave up horse riding with it.” 

Since her diagnosis, Zoe has recovered enough to go hunting. Through Southern Outdoors Unlimited and G6:2 Outdoors Ministry, another nonprofit that provides hunting opportunities for children with disabilities, hunting has kept her active. 

“That’s the one thing that she’s not had to give up, is her hunting,” Ashley said. “And that’s why I’ve been very grateful for (Southern Outdoors Unlimited), because even though she’s been battling chemo and she’s been battling this disorder, she’s still able to go hunt and do the things that she loves to do.” 

Finding a place to hunt 

Zoe has since hunted alligators, deer, hogs, squirrels and rabbits through Southern Outdoors Unlimited.

“I was invited to start doing it by deer hunting, and then they told us that they had the gator hunt, and I was like, you know what? I want to try that one,” Zoe said. 

Ashley said hunting gives her daughter a chance to get outside despite her health challenges. 

“So you just enjoy the outdoors and being able to hunt, because that’s the one sport that she’s able to do, even though she has the disabilities that she has,” Ashley said. 

Zoe also tries to help other young hunters. Ashley said Zoe harvested two deer during a hunt last year and gave one to a participant who didn’t get one. 

Returning to the field 

Three years after stepping away from sports, Zoe recently began playing softball and basketball again. 

“When I put everything down, I put it down and didn’t expect to pick it up,” Zoe said. “I’m very, very rusty on it, but I’ve done pretty good.” 

Zoe’s ability to return to sports followed 11 rounds of chemotherapy, steroids and persistence. 

Ashley described her daughter as someone who continues pushing even on difficult days. 

“She’s strong. She’s a strong girl. She’s a fighter,” Ashley said. “Even on her worst days, she is still up trying to push through it.” 

Her persistence was tested again as Zoe worked to bring the alligator to the surface. She credited Mike Macko, the organization’s alligator coordinator, and others on the hunt with helping place a second hook into the animal. 

Zoe said she was proud of the result. 

“When I put my mind to it, I don’t give up and I’m going to succeed,” Zoe said. 

For Ashley, the 12-foot, 4-inch alligator was further proof of the strength she has seen throughout her daughter’s life. 

“When she was born, she came into this world as a fighter,” Ashley said. “Everything she does, she gives it all. And she fights with every minute she has in her.” 

The Jackson Police Department arrested a 51-year-old man on Friday in the killing of Tasia Fortune, a 29-year-old Black woman who in August was found hanging from a tree next to a vacant home in west Jackson. 

Jarques Ratliff was arrested after the medical examiner’s office classified Fortune’s death as a homicide on Thursday night and police then secured two search warrants, Chief RaShall Brackney said during a news conference Friday.

Fortune’s family was immediately notified of Ratliff’s arrest, Brackney said. She said additional arrests are coming. The case has garnered national attention because the manner in which Fortune was discovered evoked memories of the South’s history of lynching. 

“This is not closure,” Brackney said. “This is just one step as we continue to investigate this case.” 

Brackney said that Fortune knew Ratliff but she would not elaborate on the nature of their relationship. She said officers arrested him on Friday afternoon after they saw him walking along Capitol Street, a road in west Jackson close to the 500 block of Road of Remembrance, where Fortune was found. 

“We understand the questions and desires for answers given Mississippi’s history,” Brackney said. “We understand this case is being viewed through a broader lens, a global lens, and we do not dismiss those concerns. We are taking them seriously. At the same time, we do have a responsibility to make sure that what we say publicly is supported by our evidence and facts.”

The police chief urged people to be patient while the investigation remains active. Brackney touted the department’s work. She said investigators interviewed nearly 15 people but couldn’t execute any warrants until the medical examiner’s office ruled Fortune’s death a homicide. 

As of Friday afternoon, Ratliff’s name did not appear in the Hinds County jail log. JPD Public Information Officer Tommie Brown said Ratliff had a Jackson address. It was not immediately clear whether Ratliff is represented by an attorney.

Earlier this week, Brackney told the Jackson City Council that Fortune’s autopsy was completed four weeks ago but JPD had not received it. Her comments came in response to Ward 3 Councilmember Kenneth Stokes and a letter from Fortune’s mother. 

In August, Hinds County Coroner Jeremiah Howard identified Fortune as the victim. She was a Kentucky native who ran away from home at 16 with someone she had met in foster care, her family told Mississippi Today. 

Fortune’s family said they didn’t know much about her life in Jackson but understood Fortune was struggling with addiction and was often destitute. 

A makeshift memorial has risen at the house where Fortune was found – a small mound of flowers, balloons, teddy bears and pinwheels surrounding a framed picture of her.

Fortune was the mother of four children.