As the search for the killers of an elderly middle Georgia couple continues, the spotlight has fallen on the gruff, plain-spoken sheriff leading the investigation of one of the most grisly crimes in recent memory.
It’s not the first time Putnam County Sheriff Howard Sills, 58, has landed in the center of a media firestorm. In the late-1990s, Sills took on the United Nuwaubian Nation of Moors, a black religious sect that had constructed an Egyptian-style compound on 440 acres in Eatonton, land that its leader, Dwight “Malachi” York, would eventually designate a sovereign nation.
A feud erupted between the Nuwaubians and the newly elected sheriff over zoning issues. York and his supporters responded with a well-orchestrated smear campaign, distributing fliers blasting Sills as a corrupt racist who beat his ex-wife.
But, as York would soon discover, those who dismiss Sills as just another stereotypical Southern sheriff do so at their peril. He may look the part, bearing a mild resemblance to veteran character actor and oatmeal pitchman Wilford Brimley. But, much like another iconic TV character, disheveled Los Angeles homicide detective Columbo, there’s more to Sills than meets the eye.
“He may sound like the typical country sheriff, but Howard is highly educated and very intelligent,” said Bill Osinski, author of the book “Ungodly: A True Story of Unprecedented Evil,” which chronicled the downfall of the Nuwaubians. “He’s attuned to the past of the South yet has got a much broader perspective than you might assume.”
In the colorful and often off-color Sills, Osinski found the perfect protagonist.
“Howard’s very clever,” said Terry Norris, executive director of the Georgia Sheriff’s Association, which in 2013 named Sills sheriff of the year, the second time he’s been so honored. He’s become something of a role model to his fellow sheriffs, Norris said, and they’re quick to provide him back-up whenever asked.
As many as seven neighboring sheriff’s departments, along with the FBI, have assisted in the Dermond case. Last weekend, fishermen recovered 87-year-old Shirley Dermond’s body from Lake Oconee — 11 days after her 88-year-old husband’s decapitated body was found in the garage of the couple’s home inside Reynolds Plantation.
The day after Shirley Dermond was found, Sills, aided by nearly two dozen federal agents, orchestrated a mass inquiry of more than 200 of the slain couple’s neighbors who attended a Q&A with the sheriff.
It was Sills’ idea to question them all at once, a calculation that saved investigators countless hours trying to track down the residents, many of whom live part-time in the exclusive Great Waters community.
Osinski likens him to Louisiana lawman Dave Robicheaux, a recurring character in a popular series of crime books who views the world in black and white and is driven to do the right thing in a world that often rewards the opposite.
“Whenever we’re trying to figure something out in a case, Howard will always tell you, ‘What does the law say,’” said Fred Bright, district attorney for the Ocmulgee Circuit of the Eighth Judicial District and a longtime friend. “If the law says file this form in duplicate, then that’s what he’s going to do.”
His love of the law can be traced back to his upbringing. Sills was all but raised by “Big George” Lawrence, the legendary former Ocmulgee D.A. who the sheriff considered a second father.
“From the time I was 15 or 16, I would travel all over the circuit with him and sit at the table when he tried cases,” Sills was quoted in Lawrence’s 2003 obituary. “I learned at an extremely early age how to research the law, how to type indictments.”
He quipped that when he became a sheriff’s deputy, he didn’t know how to investigate a crime, but because of George Lawrence, he knew how to prosecute one. He even briefly considered pursuing a law degree. But, according to Osinski, Sills prefers “the action.”
After stints as a deputy in DeKalb and Baldwin counties, Sills returned to his hometown and launched an unsuccessful bid for sheriff, opposing Gene Resseau, who would later be sent to prison on corruption charges. Sills was elected in 1996 and met with some skeptics when it became clear he wouldn’t be conducting business as usual.
“Sheriff Resseau was a good ol’’ boy,” said former Putnam County Commissioner Sandra Adams. “They didn’t find that with Sheriff Sills. He treats everyone the same. Truly a consummate professional.”
His predecessor had chosen to turn a blind eye to the Nuwaubians, just as law enforcement had done in New York, where the sect had been linked to numerous criminal activities.
Sills paid a political price for running afoul of York, who had become adept at cultivating influential political allies. When word of the investigation into the Nuwaubians spread, civil rights leaders like state Rep. Tyrone Brooks, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton all rose to York’s defense.
“They did a real hatchet job on Howard,” said Adams, who is African-American. She, too, was targeted by the Nuwaubians after she sided with him.
Believing that the cult was dividing Putnam County on racial lines, with his office in their crosshairs, Sills turned to state and federal officials. The FBI responded, but the state did not.
“He had to pretty much go it alone,” Osinski said, noting that timing, along with the racial underpinnings of the investigation, were major factors. “This was just a few years after Waco,” he said, alluding to the 1993 siege of the Branch Daividian compound that resulted in 76 deaths, including numerous women and children.
Sills didn’t let up, especially after hearing from local doctors that an inordinate amount of York’s female followers — many of them quite young — had become pregnant.
“Howard is relentless,” Bright said. “He lives, breathes and eats catching criminals.”
York eventually confessed in both state and federal courts to molesting 13 children and was sentenced to 135 years.
“I’m convinced that without (Sills), we’d be living in Yorktown by now,” Adams said. “I don’t have a doubt in my mind.”
Today, Sills is about as popular as an elected official can be. He’s faced no opposition in the last elections for sheriff and enjoys a unique rapport with his constituents, many of whom refer to him simply as “Howard.”
“He sees the sheriff’s role as the being the lawman closest to the people,” Osinski said.
“The whole community is behind him,” said salon owner Teresa Hunt. “He’s very respected here.”
And most of them say they have faith Sills will track down the Dermonds’ killers.
“He is consumed by this case,” Bright said. “He’s consumed by the job of sheriff,” a position he’s unlikely to give up anytime soon, according to the D.A.
He has few hobbies, though friends say he is a voracious reader, amateur paleontologist and a devoted listener to the weekly public radio show “A Prairie Home Companion.”
But law enforcement is his life.
“He was born and raised to be the sheriff of Putnam County,” Bright said.
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