There’s Blood in the Salad Part II: The Clean Up

This case was grueling.  What started as a day indexing coroners’ inquisitions had turned into a full-blown research investigation. Just a reminder you could take the kid out of grad school, but you couldn’t take the grad school out of the kid. But I wasn’t a kid anymore, and it was wearing me down. Sitting in a chair eight hours a day. Staring at old documents, microfilm, and a computer screen. It’s an exhaustion I wouldn’t wish on anyone. But there I was, putting in the hours.

The deceased in question, Domenico Pasquale (or DePasquale as it turned out was more accurate), I’d followed for as long as I could. I got the answers I needed to assuage the boss. Chief Brooks, you know the guy (real piece of work), head of the Local Records unit, he told me to move on. Again, I couldn’t let the rest of them go. Giuseppe Oddo, Feligi Campinelli, Vincenzio Fairo, Pasquale Bellochi, and Piedro Leonti. What happened to them?

Here are their stories. And by their, I mean mostly Oddo’s because I could find the most on him.

By this point in my journey, my main sources included:

• Coroners’ Inquests from Elizabeth City County
• Criminal Cases from Elizabeth City County
• Newspapers (via Virginia Chronicle)
• Secretary of the Commonwealth’s Executive Papers

Therefore, I had a general outline of what happened to who, but I was previously more concerned with the murder itself instead of what occurred afterwards. So, while I located the records, I hadn’t spent much time exploring post March 28, 1916. Well friends, this part is just as interesting.

From the fact that the criminal records exist, it was obvious that the Elizabeth County Circuit Court indicted Giuseppe Oddo, Felizi Campinelli, Vincenzio Fairo, Pasquale Bellochi, and Piedro Leonti for Domenico Depasquale’s murder.

While their indictments are not surprising, the breakdown in the charges and sentencing is a bit interesting.

Although indicted together, the court tried the five men separately at the request of defense council. The court heard the five cases in the span of 10 days: Oddo on April 17, Fairo on April 20, Campinello on April 21, and Leonte and Bellochi on April 25. Other than newspaper coverage, I only found specific trial information in Commonwealth vs Guiseppe Oddo, so these are the only proceedings clearly documented.

In Oddo’s case, neither Oddo nor any of the other men provided testimony. In fact, the defense presented no witnesses or evidence. However, even in the 108 pages of testimony present, in addition to the testimony present in the coroner’s inquest for Domenico DePasquale, there is no clear narrative of the shooting. While the shooting does appear to start with someone in Oddo’s group, with this group also responsible for the majority of the shooting, the prosecution does not prove who started the shooting nor who definitively shot DePasquale. The prosecution instead depicts Giuseppe Oddo as the leader of the group, the orchestrator of the violence, and therefore the person most responsible for DePasquale’s death.

From newspaper coverage, it appears the prosecution used much of the same evidence and witnesses against Vincenzio Fairo, Felizi Campinelli, Pasquale Bellochi, and Piedro Leonti. One witness, Eusebio Torre, specifically notes Fairo as trying to shoot him at close range, giving Fairo a second-degree murder charge. Campinelli is the only one to be acquitted for, although present, no one noted Campinelli as taking part in the actual shooting. As the last to be tried, Bellochi and Leonte may have believed it safer to plead out, for they both plead guilty to voluntary manslaughter.

Tazewell Taylor, Oddo’s lawyer, filed at least five bills of exception in Oddo’s case concerning the April 17 trial and a writ of error to the June 1916 decision made by the Virginia Supreme Court of Appeals. These efforts did not prove fruitful for Oddo. In fact, all four men are listed as inmates in the Virginia State Penitentiary by Fall 1916. But while reviewing the Virginia State Penitentiary Prisoner Register No. 11, I received another little surprise. Not a single man served his whole sentence.

I knew from previous findings (again thank you to Roger Christman, Senior State Records Archivist) that Governor Trinkle commuted Oddo’s sentence to 15 years; but to find he didn’t even serve the full 15, Fairo received a pardon, and Bellochi and Leonti served only a few months was fascinating.

In addressing these reduced sentences, I’ll start with Bellochi and Leonti. I’m still not sure what happened with these two men. In the Prisoner Register, the remarks column reads “new law,” as it does in the registers for many individuals released during this period. This may be connected to Ex Parte United States | 242 U.S. 27 (1916) decision concerning the suspension of sentences, but I’m not certain.

Moving on to Vincenzio Fairo, the only man connected to Domenico DePasquale’s death to receive a full pardon. Govenor Westmoreland Davis pardoned Fairo on August 1, 1919; however, upon inspection my sleuth partner Roger Christman found the pardon file to be empty. Only a few months earlier, on April 3, 1919, the governor denied Fairo’s clemency (Virginia Secretary of the Commonwealth, Executive Papers, box 517). In this early folder, there is a February 8, 1919, letter of Tazewell Taylor, the attorney who represented Fairo, asking for clemency due to the larger social circumstances in the Hampton area. Taylor states, “There was a great deal of local excitement at the time of this trial and the best indication I can give of the same is the fact that of the five defendants tried the severity of the sentence bore direct relation to the time of their respecting trials.” Taylor goes on to say that had the trial been later, the sentence would have been less, and Fairo’s time would have been served already.

The “Italian citizens” of Norfolk, Virginia, share similar arguments in their petition submitted on behalf of Fairo, which is signed by almost 100 individuals. There is an additional letter from the Royal Italian Consular’s office arguing for Fairo’s release due to the death of his father and the need for him to care for his two younger sisters. It’s unclear what changed the governor’s mind in the next few months, and what argument eventually won his favor, but this argument of “local excitement” impacting the sentencing repeats in Oddo’s clemency papers.

Oddo’s quest for clemency is filled with a combination of perseverance, work, and good fortune. Executive papers of the Secretary of Commonwealth show Oddo’s journey beginning in 1919, about three years into his life sentence. Sherlock Bronson, a lawyer for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway company located in Richmond, Virginia, filed the application on behalf of Oddo after meeting Oddo on a tour of the penitentiary led by Burnett Lewis, President of the Ex-Convict Aid Society of Virginia. The application in this case was not successful as many parties involved felt that despite his good behavior, Oddo had not served enough of his sentence to warrant consideration for clemency. The application was officially denied November 13, 1920, by Governor Westmoreland Davis.

Bronson appeared to continue to write to the Governor’s office into 1921, which then overlapped with fellow Richmonder Jane Ewing Speed taking up Oddo’s fight in late 1921.

It’s unclear how Jane Speed became acquainted with Oddo’s case, but once acquainted Speed became completely devoted to commuting and then fully pardoning Oddo. It appears Speed and Oddo were pen pals, potentially initiated by someone Speed knew or through a religious or benevolent society. Some of these letters appear in the pardon application and show a gentle friendship between Speed and Oddo.  Of her own accord, Speed corresponded with Vernon Spratley, Robinson, and various other officials involved in Oddo’s original prosecution. Speed presented her case to the Governor and Secretary of the Commonwealth for over a year, declaring Oddo was treated harshly due to local sentiments at the time of prosecution. Speed’s request was further augmented by the influence of her son, Keats Speed, editor of The Sun (New York), who attended the University of Virginia with Governor Trinkle. Keats Speed wrote to the governor on his mother’s behalf, asking that Trinkle give Oddo’s case his special attention. Speed’s efforts proved successful, with Governor Trinkle commuting Oddo’s life sentence from life to 15 years in October 1923.

Letters in Governor Tinkle’s papers indicate that Frank Realmuto also became personally invested in Oddo’s well-being around this time period.

Realmuto, an immigrant from Italy, primarily worked as a barber in Richmond, Virginia, but also served in various roles of the local fraternal chapter of the Sons of Italy and was a leader in the Richmond Italian community. Both Realmuto and Speed continued to act in the interest of Oddo well into 1924. It’s unclear what advocacy took place post 1924, but in July 1926, Oddo left the State penitentiary a free man.