There was a murder in my hometown in 2001...
Almost 23 years later, I'm convinced it wasn't murder. (Explicit Content Warning)
In the year 2001, I was a senior in high school in the small Alabama town of Pleasant Grove, population 10,000. I loved growing up here—small enough that you felt shielded from “big city shit,” but not so small you felt suffocated. I talk fondly about my childhood to my own kids now. The internet and cell phones were brand new, it was cheap to live, there were no camera phones or social media to document the shit we did on any given weekend, and our parents couldn’t track us. No cameras on every doorbell and mailbox. The drama in this town was strong, but I managed to stay just on the edge of it—part of the crowd, but not directly involved.
I had a boyfriend who had graduated two years earlier and was in college at the University of Alabama. Honestly, most people my age got on my nerves. I just wanted to get through the week so my boyfriend could come home and spend the weekend with me. All the drama happened on weekends, and I was perfectly content to miss out on it.
One day in April of 2001, our town became the scene of a murder. A violent murder. A bludgeoning. A man was beaten to death by teenagers—two grades below me—with baseball bats, in front of his own home, in cold blood. The town buzzed with a sick sort of excitement. And a narrative was born.
For nearly 23 years, I believed the following story:
Jimmy Hill, a 41-year-old local grocer from a well-established family, was coaxed out of his home by feral, screaming teenagers. Mark Harper (16), and brothers Jeremy (16) and Zach (15) Cain were the culprits, with baseball bats dangling menacingly from their hands. There had been some kind of feud between Jimmy’s stepson and Mark, one of the teens now taunting him in his own front yard. Jimmy came out to get them off his property—to protect his family from these unhinged kids. They surrounded him. One swung a bat and took him out at the knees. They brutally beat him until his head no longer resembled a human skull, then left him in his own yard to die. The murderers turned themselves in, were charged with intentional murder, tried, found guilty, and sentenced to 35 years in adult prison.
Justice served, right?
That’s what I believed from April 7, 2001, until December 30, 2023.
That day, I saw a friend from my hometown post on Facebook about a podcast called One Minute Remaining: Stories from the Inmates, which featured the Cain brothers sharing their side of the story from prison. Mark, now released, also spoke to the podcast creator.
Well, I had to hear this shit.
I browsed the comments and saw people I’d known my whole life—people who heard and believed the same version of events as I had—saying things like, “I never knew any of this!” and “They should be set free!”
Um, what?
I replied that I remembered these shitheads and no way did they deserve to be free. But I agreed to start the podcast with an open mind. So I did. I lay in bed and listened until every episode had been consumed.
And I cried. I felt sick to my stomach and cried.
Because these kids didn’t commit intentional murder.
My whole life started to feel like a damn lie.
Jimmy Hill’s stepson had assaulted Mark twice before the murder. He had damaged Mark’s car. Mark reported it to the police. Prior to that, Jimmy had threatened these boys in public—concerns that were documented by police phone logs.
The coroner’s report showed that the place of injury was at least 82 yards from Jimmy’s front door. The teens never stepped foot on his property. He followed them down the street.
There is compelling evidence that he initiated physical contact. He allegedly assaulted one of the boys—the one feuding with his stepson. He grabbed him and forced his tongue into the boy’s mouth, then spit in his mouth.
Why the hell would he do that?
The boys were terrified. According to the defense at trial, they used the bats to protect themselves. And the autopsy revealed damning evidence that may explain Jimmy Hill’s bizarre behavior.
He had two infectious diseases: hepatitis C and human T-cell leukemia virus types 1 and 2. You remember when people used to say you could get cancer from kissing? Turns out that wasn’t an urban legend. The human T-cell virus causes cancer in most people who carry it, and it’s spread through saliva.
Why would a man stick his tongue in a teen’s mouth and spit during a heated altercation? An altercation that had been brewing for weeks and exploded when the boys drove by his house blasting loud music?
It’s a reasonable assumption he did it intentionally—to infect this child.
Jimmy Hill had an arrest record a mile long, spanning Illinois and Alabama, including charges for domestic violence (witnessed by a police officer), harassment, menacing, threatening someone with a gun, drug offenses, and more. Yet those charges were never considered in Alabama because they were all dismissed—by the same judge who would later preside over his murder case.
That same judge was later seen campaigning inside the grocery store Jimmy worked at. The store his family owned. The same judge who never held Jimmy accountable for his violent behavior sat in judgment over the teens accused of killing him—teens who had harmed the grandson of one of his political supporters.
Sure, the boys went looking for trouble—and they found it. But they never imagined Jimmy would come to them. They didn’t plan to kill anyone that day. But they did.
Because they were armed. And because, according to their defense, the man sexually assaulted their friend and was coming for them next.
In Pleasant Grove, baseball bats were common in teens’ cars. It was a baseball town. These boys played baseball. But none of that mattered. The boys were charged and convicted of intentional murder—even one who never got out of the car. Three of the four were convicted, despite strong evidence showing Jimmy was the initial aggressor, and sentenced to 35 years in adult prison.
Mark was released four years later after a successful appeal. A more reasonable judge set aside the murder conviction in exchange for a guilty plea to manslaughter. He was released with time served and placed on five years’ probation. He’s now married with children and doing well.
Jeremy and Zach remain incarcerated in different work camps across Alabama. Despite being approved for unsupervised work release by the Department of Justice and being parole eligible since 2017, they remain behind bars. Two parole hearings have ended in denial, with up to five years between reviews.
After the release of public records about this case, many people who lived in Pleasant Grove at the time have come together to support the Cain brothers. We are growing every day.
We hope—desperately—that 2024 is the year these boys, now men, come home.
Consider joining the Release The Cains Facebook Group to help with advocacy efforts and stay up to date on this case.