Claims of election fraud aren’t new. Just look at these races for Tarrant County sheriff
Ever since our last presidential election there has been much hand-wringing by some in the losing party about voter fraud, although to date no one has turned up any evidence of it. Surely, this is a new issue in American politics?
It is not. Right here in our own local elections, the losers did not always accept the results graciously. For some reason, no office was more prone to hard feelings than that of sheriff. In the summer of 1916, incumbent Sheriff N.C. Mann was the winner in the Democratic primary over W.T. “Bud” Browne. Back then, whomever the Democratic Party selected in July was a sure thing in the general election come November.
But Browne thought Mann had cheated and expressed that opinion bitterly. One of those who heard him was Deputy James Casey, who took exception to the accusations of election stealing aimed at his boss. The two got into a fist fight in front of the courthouse. The history books only say that Mann was sheriff in 1916 and served honorably for the next two years.
Not all disputed elections resulted in fisticuffs. Voter fraud occurred on an election-determining scale at least once — in 1936 when Carl Smith ran for reelection as Tarrant County sheriff. He had already served six terms, starting in 1920 as a 33-year-old, the youngest sheriff ever elected in Tarrant County.
Then after a layoff of four years, Smith was reelected in 1934. Now, in 1936, he was running as the incumbent for his seventh term, a record at the time.
He was a popular incumbent and a good party man, so there was no reason to believe the primary would be anything more than a coronation — except that he was in poor health, which prevented him from making the usual rounds of speeches and appearances.
Because of his health issues, Smith had two challengers, Clarence D. “Buster” Little and W.P. McGlothlin. McGlothlin was an unknown, but Little had been appointed sheriff in August 1933 by county commissioners to replace J.R. Wright, who had resigned. Little was then challenged in the primary by Smith in the summer of 1934. The vote was so close they had to have a run-off, which was narrowly won by Smith, who was rewarded with his sixth term in office in November.
Now, two years later he was running in the Democratic primary again, and Little was challenging him for the nomination again.
Sheriff election results ‘tampered with’
When the Democratic Executive Committee announced the results on Saturday, Aug. 1, they first said Smith had won by 235 votes. Then they said there was evidence that the “tally sheets” for some of the six precincts had been “tampered with,” resulting in a difference of as many as 400 votes. The fraudulent ballots were not hard to distinguish because someone had scratched out Smith’s name and written in “C.D. Little.”
Little had good reason to be angry about the results. One of Smith’s previous elections was a squeaker. In 1924, he beat out Lee Joyce in the primary only after party officials did a recount that turned Joyce’s apparent 31-vote victory into a 19-vote victory for Smith.
Smith took ill shortly after his 1934 election victory, and he had been barely functioning as the county’s top lawman for the past two years. Entering the race in the summer of 1936, his continuing health issues made him a candidate for the “Walking Dead,” not the sheriff’s office.
If the primary’s suspect votes were thrown out, that would necessitate a runoff election between Smith and Little. Another runoff election with another sore loser (or two) was the last thing the party needed. County Democratic Chairman B.F. Kaufman ordered an investigation and called his executive committee together on Monday morning to decide on a course of action. On Tuesday, they issued a statement saying the tampering had not changed the outcome of the election and that Smith was still the winner “in spite of the altered figures.”
This was good news for Smith’s supporters because had all 400 suspect ballots been thrown out, he would have fallen 185 votes short of the majority needed to win the nomination.
At this point, Smith himself was pretty much past caring. His doctors said he was critically ill and confided that they were afraid he would die before he could take office in January if not before the November election.
Election fraud investigated
While Democratic Party leaders were satisfied they had picked the right man to be sheriff for the next two years. Tarrant County District Attorney Will Parker was not so sure and began his own investigation. Soon after, two men were charged with “tampering” with ballot sheets.
Then Parker filed charges against two more men, Fidge Cover, an insurance salesman, and Jimmy Johnson, an election worker, charging them with “changing returns” (from Smith to Little). Johnson denied any part in the scam.
That same day, the grand jury met behind closed doors to take up the charges. By this time, the scope of the fraud had narrowed to 200 spurious ballots from Precincts 1 and 6. The investigation showed that committing primary election fraud was easy. All someone had to do was enter the unlocked “committee room” in the courthouse and start penciling changes on the ballots.
In the end, Will Parker (a Democrat) and the grand jury let the matter die because it no longer seemed to matter after Carl Smith died on Aug. 9, 1936. Thirty sheriff’s deputies immediately gathered in the sheriff’s office and decided they wanted one of their own, A.B. Carter, to fill out Smith’s unexpired term, which would run until Dec. 31 following the general election.
County commissioners (also Democrats), accepted Carter without any dissenting argument, and the new sheriff made it easier by announcing if elected in November he would take only half his salary and give the rest to Smith’s family.
Everyone should have been happy with the political outcome: The party had gotten past an embarrassing situation, the deputy sheriffs had their man, and Carl Smith’s family was taken care of. Buster Little’s reaction is not recorded, and the Republican Party’s opinion was not an issue because they never had a chance of winning anyway. That was politics, Fort Worth style.
Author-historian Richard Selcer is a Fort Worth native and proud graduate of Paschal High and TCU.