Only Kim, Lindsey, and the couple’s other son, who was 8, remained trapped inside.įirst, Cox shot Kim twice, once in the arm and once through the abdomen-an injury that, a local surgeon told the jury at Cox’s trial, likely generated agonizing pain as the contents of the intestines spilled into the abdominal cavity during the several hours it took Kim to bleed to death. Kristie managed to escape the hellish scene, along with Cox and Kim’s 7-year-old son. Benny and Melody were, mercifully, miles away at the time. He had set out with enough ammunition to kill not only Kim but her father and stepmother, Benny and Melody Kirk, and her sister, Kristie Salmon, with whom she was staying. A few weeks out of jail on bond, Cox had come for revenge. Cox blamed Kim for his incarceration because she told the police that her daughter had been abused. The victim of his alleged sexual predation was Lindsey Kirk, his 12-year-old stepdaughter, whom he had raised since she was 2. He had spent nine months in the Pontotoc County Jail, after being arrested on charges of statutory rape, sexual battery, child abuse, and drug-possession offenses related to crystal meth. 40-caliber handgun, shot his way inside a trailer in search of his estranged wife, Kim. Around dusk on a May 2010 evening in the northern-Mississippi town of Sherman, Cox, armed with a. In the days leading up to his death, the family of Cox’s victims-people who were once related to Cox himself-told reporters that Cox was evil that if he were ever free, he would kill again and that his execution would bring closure to their beleaguered clan.Ĭox had earned their hatred. The state of Mississippi wanted Cox dead, and Cox did too. No ardent supporter of capital punishment could have found their passion for the practice better matched, or their reasoning for it better embodied, than in the 50-year-old man’s rawboned frame. Some in that unusual tradition have had an agenda, such as Timothy McVeigh, who expected his 2001 death to become a symbol of federal brutality others, including another Mississippian, Bobby Wilcher, who was killed in 2006, waived their appeals in a fit of pique or despair and then died trying to reinstate their pathways to survival.
Sign up for it here.ī y the time David Neal Cox’s life was put to an end last fall by the state of Mississippi, the man had become a rarity among death-row prisoners-a jailhouse advocate for his own execution.
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