Death
Reynolds died under mysterious circumstances from an automatic .32 caliber Mauser pistol shot through his head on the early morning of July 6, 1932, after a 21st birthday party for his friend Charles Gideon Hill, Jr. (July 5, 1911 - October 18, 1960), who was also Anne Cannon Reynolds's first cousin, at his Winston-Salem, North Carolina estate known as Reynolda. His wife Libby Holman Reynolds was pregnant with their child.
Reynolds' boyhood friend and personal assistant Albert Bailey "Ab" Walker had stayed over after the party, and he reported that he heard a gunshot from downstairs and immediately afterwards Holman ran to the balcony and shouted, "Smith's killed himself!" Walker said he found Reynolds bleeding and unconscious upstairs, with a bullet wound in his right temple. With Holman's help, Walker brought Reynolds to North Carolina Baptist Hospital, where he was pronounced dead four hours later at 5:25AM on July 6.
The death was originally ruled a suicide, but a coroner's inquiry subsequently ruled the death a murder. Both Walker and Holman were considered suspects in his death and were both indicted for first-degree murder of Reynolds—Holman for the murder itself and Walker as an accomplice. The murder attracted national attention. Reporters printed allegations that Holman had conducted an affair with Walker. Reynolds' uncle William Neal Reynolds told the district attorney that the family supported dropping the charges; the prosecutor eventually did so for lack of evidence, and no trial was ever held.
Zachary Smith Reynolds is buried in the Salem Cemetery in Winston-Salem.
Read more about this topic: Zachary Smith Reynolds
Famous quotes containing the word death:
“Life folded Death; Death trellised Life; the grim god wived with youthful Life, and begat him curly-headed glories.”
—Herman Melville (18191891)
“Taking a child to the toy store is the nearest thing to a death wish parents can have.”
—Fred G. Gosman (20th century)
“I knew the poor,
I knew the hideous death they die,
when famine lays its bleak hand on the door;
I knew the rich,
sated with merriment,
who yet are sad.”
—Hilda Doolittle (18861961)