OBSERVER online readers continue to react to the ‘Crimes that rocked the nation series’ running weekly in the Sunday Observer. Following are some more of their responses:

Dear Sybil: I must say that even though this is such a sad story (the Whoppy King murder trial) you did an excellent job reporting it. You covered every aspect of the case. You did not leave us wondering who was the perpetrator or what was his eventual demise. You even declared how the victim eventually left her beloved country to be at peace elsewhere. Great job, journalism is not suspense and should be as complete as possible. Please help the others who have so much more to be desired along the way.

— Dev Korahm korahm883@gmail.com

Dear Sybil: Once again, this is a brilliant article and I love how it is brought out that although Jamaicans didn’t have much, there was still love. That brutal animal didn’t even give the young lad a chance, and the gallows was the right form of justice. I also read the story about Beverly Champagnie and it had me stuck in a state of disbelief. Her beauty, described in your article, would cause any man to believe she is an angel. She went through much pain to have this man killed. And to have such a brilliant detective (Superintendent Richards) killed is just heartbreaking. However, I especially liked that twist at the end, her beauty non-existent and humbly asking ACP Hibbert for her passport because she wanted to migrate 15 years after the crime… Mrs Hibbert I can’t wait for the story about that student of Immaculate Conception High School who was murdered in the 1980s in the Constant Spring/Stony Hill area…Mrs Hibbert the suspense is killing me.

— Andrew Alvesalvesthegreat@gmail.com

Dear Sybil: I continue to enjoy your well written stories. I was all of 11 and living in the cool verdant hills of St Andrew, 19 miles from Kingston, when the Whoppy King story broke. I was a voracious reader. Along with the Children’s Own, and the Newsy Wapps stories, the STAR newspaper had recently arrived on the scene. We had fun reading. Everything was quiet and peaceful. And then came the day when our peace was shattered. As you accurately relate, Jamaica then was a place of peace. It was not like today. Kingston was a sleepy, almost somnolent town. The big weekend event was going to the Carib cinema on Saturday and church on Sunday. Cricket was not played on Sundays; not nationally and certainly not internationally. Sunday was a rest day for Test matches. There was no horse racing on Sundays at Knutsford Park, the forerunner of Caymanas Park. The courts could handle their case-loads. There were no gangs. Gun violence was in the distant future, almost 20 years away. Murders were few and very far between — Years apart. Indeed, the only other murder I recall from that time was that in which Jamaica and West Indies fast bowler, Leslie Hylton was sentenced to death for shooting his wife. And then came the day. The STAR arrived at our school in mid-afternoon telling the story of the murder at Gunboat Beach. In the story was the word “rape”. As I said I was an avid reader, but I was seeing that word for the first time. The story would not let up. In the days following, we learnt about the bearded man – a Rasta man, the stories said – whose name was Whoppy King. And then there was the song. Yes, a song was written about the incident and was being sung everywhere. It was written to the tune of On a hill far away. The song included another word that was new to me, the word “ravish”. Echoes of the incident are to be seen in the Roger Mais classic novel, Brother Man. Both there, and in actual daily life, the terror that Whoppy King inflicted that night spread across the country, bringing a bad name to the Rastafarians who, up, until then, had been only famous for their simple greeting, “Peace and Love”. — Ewart Walters, spectrum@storm.ca

Dear Sybil: I continue to enjoy your well written stories. I was all of 11 and living in the cool verdant hills of St Andrew, 19 miles from Kingston, when the Whoppy King story broke. I was a voracious reader. Along with the Children’s Own, and the Newsy Wapps stories, the STAR newspaper had recently arrived on the scene. We had fun reading. Everything was quiet and peaceful. And then came the day when our peace was shattered. As you accurately relate, Jamaica then was a place of peace. It was not like today. Kingston was a sleepy, almost somnolent town. The big weekend event was going to the Carib cinema on Saturday and church on Sunday. Cricket was not played on Sundays; not nationally and certainly not internationally. Sunday was a rest day for Test matches. There was no horse racing on Sundays at Knutsford Park, the forerunner of Caymanas Park. The courts could handle their case-loads. There were no gangs. Gun violence was in the distant future, almost 20 years away. Murders were few and very far between — Years apart. Indeed, the only other murder I recall from that time was that in which Jamaica and West Indies fast bowler, Leslie Hylton was sentenced to death for shooting his wife. And then came the day. The STAR arrived at our school in mid-afternoon telling the story of the murder at Gunboat Beach. In the story was the word “rape”. As I said I was an avid reader, but I was seeing that word for the first time. The story would not let up. In the days following, we learnt about the bearded man – a Rasta man, the stories said – whose name was Whoppy King. And then there was the song. Yes, a song was written about the incident and was being sung everywhere. It was written to the tune of On a hill far away. The song included another word that was new to me, the word “ravish”. Echoes of the incident are to be seen in the Roger Mais classic novel, Brother Man. Both there, and in actual daily life, the terror that Whoppy King inflicted that night spread across the country, bringing a bad name to the Rastafarians who, up, until then, had been only famous for their simple greeting, “Peace and Love”.— Ewart Walters, spectrum@storm.ca

Dear Sybil: With reference to your Dillinger story, gone are those days when justice was so served. The justice system has now become too sophisticated to suit criminals. While we beg for a fare trial for all, too often we see criminals get a away because of the prosecutions inability to build a strong case against them.

— Frederick Bennett, bennett_fredrick@yahoo.com