A decade ago, I abandoned manic, impersonal Washington, D.C., and escaped to the quiet calm of semitropical Savannah. As the executive editor of Court TV's Crime Library website, I had the luxury of working anywhere with a good Internet and cell phone connection.
Savannah is a truly lovely city where atmosphere hangs as heavy as the Spanish moss on the giant live oak trees. The elegant, seductively beautiful historic district, with its spacious porches, walled gardens and intricate ironwork, is a glimpse of a treasured past, now lovingly restored. Traveling around the historic downtown, one encounters a shady square with gardens and monuments every few blocks. But the city is so much more than an antebellum grand dame. It is a unique state of mind: discreetly scandalous, insular, stubbornly resistant to change, and resplendent with eccentric charm and perfect manners.
Rosemary Daniell, a prominent Savannah writer, aptly described the special character of her city: "Despite this city's pastel beauty, it also has a dark underside. Within its hothouse atmosphere, the present runs concurrently with the past; events that happened decades before are discussed as though they happened yesterday, including a number of scenes of sex and violence extreme enough to rival any dreamed up by Tennessee Williams."
After a few months, I found myself fascinated by Jim Williams, one of Savannah's most memorable characters. Like many others, I had read John Berendt's Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, and watched Clint Eastwood's movie, starring Kevin Spacey as Jim Williams and Jude Law as Danny Hansford, the lover that Williams shot.
As the publisher of more than 700 Crime Library stories, I found the case unique. Jim Williams spent the better part of a decade and more than a million dollars defending himself in four separate murder trials, punctuated by a two-year stint in a substandard county jail.
To get to the heart of the Williams case, I began a series of some 50-plus interviews: socially prominent Savannah "bluebloods," antique dealers, drag queens, hairdressers, attorneys, bartenders, and others who rubbed elbows with Jim Williams and Danny Hansford.
What emerged is the story of a charismatic man with astonishing talents to whom the city of Savannah owes an enormous debt. Jim Williams was a highly talented artist and entrepreneur who saved many of the grand old houses of Savannah from the wrecking ball. However, I unexpectedly found a man who indulged in clearly unethical and illegal activities that could have put him behind bars well before he shot Danny Hansford. Jim was often an arrogant man with a surprising predatory streak, who had no qualms about exploiting people at any level of society.
Ironically, the intersection of these conflicting currents in Jim Williams' personality gave birth to his greatest contributions to Savannah: The notoriety of Danny Hansford's shooting and the four trials, John Berendt's book, and Clint Eastwood's movie put Savannah squarely on the tourist circuit, generating millions of dollars of revenue, which flowed into the city for more than a decade and, most likely, will continue to do so well into the future.
I invite you to come along with me into the very complicated world of Jim Williams, but first, let's take a look at the influences that shaped the character of this man.