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Hank Earl Carr (1968 – May 19, 1998) was a convicted criminal who, on May 19, 1998, shot his girlfriend's four-year-old son with a rifle, was arrested, and then escaped from his handcuffs and killed two Tampa detectives and a Florida state trooper. Carr then barricaded himself in a convenience store with a hostage before receiving a (possibly self-inflicted) gunshot wound to the head. Carr maintained that the shooting of his girlfriend's son was an accident.

The murders of the law-enforcement personnel prompted national controversy on the proper way to handcuff a suspected criminal, and local media were widely criticized for inhibiting police work while Carr was trapped in the convenience store.

Killings and suicide

On the morning of May 19, around 10:30, Carr carried the young son of his girlfriend Bernice Bowen into a fire station. The boy had a gunshot wound to the head, but the circumstances of the injury were unclear — first Carr claimed that the boy was dragging a rifle and walking around when it accidentally discharged, but later he said that he himself had been holding it when it discharged.

Carr, having told police he was Joseph Bennett, the father of the child, ran back to the site of the shooting while being pursued by police. Threatening an officer with a rifle, he dropped it and again ran away, and this time was caught and handcuffed.

Tampa Police Department detectives Randy Bell and Ricky Childers took him back to the apartment where the boy had been shot to continue to interview him. On the trip back to the police department, with Bell and Childers in the front seats and Carr sitting behind them, handcuffed in front, Carr successfully unlocked his handcuffs with a key he carried on his person, and disarmed Childers by snatching his Glock handgun from his shoulder holster. In the struggle that ensued, Carr shot both detectives in the face, killing them at the scene.

Exiting the car, he carjacked a pickup truck and fled. After briefly visiting his mother and refueling at a local service station, he got on Interstate 75 heading north. The first police officer in pursuit was James Crooks, and as he approached, Carr veered onto an exit ramp, braked, and exited the truck. As Crooks also braked to a stop, Carr approached and shot him twice in the head, killing him instantly.

Getting back in the pickup truck, Carr fled as multiple police cars and a police helicopter pursued him in a high speed chase and gunfight. With his tires blown out and running low on ammunition, Carr exited the interstate and entered a convenience store, where he took as a hostage Stephanie Kramer, a pregnant clerk.

For the rest of the afternoon, he remained in the store, as nearly 200 police officers surrounded him. The WFLA radio station conducted phone interviews in the midst of the crisis, later drawing criticism from both journalism experts and police. At 7:20pm, Carr released Kramer and shot himself as a SWAT team forcibly entered the building.

Aftermath

Bowen's son ultimately died, raising the number killed by Carr to four. In later testimony it was revealed that he abused Bowen and her children, and he was found to be a convicted felon with a history of violent crime, including assault of police officers. He was also wanted in several states.

In 1999, Bowen was convicted of child neglect for allowing a violent felon around her children, and sentenced to 15 years in prison. Later in 1999, she was charged with aiding and abetting Carr's escape, as well as the deaths of her son and the three police officers, by not telling police Carr's real name. Even after one officer broke down and begged her to tell them Carr's real name, Bowen didn't do so. Prosecutors claimed that if she had, police would have known he was a convicted felon and used tougher measures in handling him.

She was sentenced to 21.5 years in prison, to run concurrently with her child neglect sentence. However, those convictions were thrown out on appeal in 2001. A state appeals court found that prosecutors focused too much on what Bowen should have done to prevent Carr's rampage, rather than what she did after the crimes were committed. The court also acquitted her of aiding and abetting the deaths of her son and Trooper Crooks. She was convicted of the remaining charges in 2002, and sentenced to 20 years in prison. Sentencing guidelines called for only 6–11 years, but in sentencing her, the judge said that Bowen's lies to police were so egregious that they endangered the public. This sentence also runs concurrently with her child abuse sentence, and she is eligible for release in 2017.

Experts later expressed shock that the detectives had not handcuffed Carr's hands behind his back, but others defended the action, arguing that at the time the detectives thought they were dealing with a bereaved father, not a violent criminal. The media's handling of the situation also received sharp criticism, as in addition to the radio station's live interview, camera crews for local television stations were broadcasting live shots of the area surrounding the convenience store.

Wikipedia.org

Hank Earl Carr

With three officers, a young boy and a repeat offender dead the carnage in the town of Brooksville, near Tampa, May 19, 1998, will be remebered as one of the deadliest days in the Florida's law enforcement history.

The bloodshed started shortly after 10 a.m.,when Carr - then identifying himself as Joseph Lee Bennett - and his wife carried his 4-year-old stepson Joseph into a neighborhood fire station with his face blown off.

They said the boy had been dragging the rifle behind him when they yelled at him to put it down and it went off. After the boy died he changed his story when questioned and the two detectives in charge cuffed him and decided to take him to headquarters.

Once he was in the back of the cruiser, he slipped out of the cuffs, grabbed the weapon of one of the two police officers and shot them both dead. Then he carjacked a truck and killed a rookie state trooper who tried to stop him.

Next he crashed into another Florida Highway Patrol car and shot at a truck driver who suffered minor injuries. He then pulled off the highway when officers blew out the tires of the truck, and he fled into the gas station as shots rang out around him.

With more than 170 officers ready to pump him full of lead Hank took a 22-year-old female gas station clerk hostage and demanded to speak with his wife. Thing got even weirder when WFLA, a local radio station, decided to give him a call and and interview him live.

After repeated pleads from the radio host, Carr released the hostage unharmed after a nearly four-hour standoff, then put a bullet in his head as police shot tear gas into the station and the SWAT team closed in.

Not the nicest of men, Carr, 30, had a criminal record dating back to 1986 that included burglary, domestic violence, assault, grand larceny, possession of cocaine and resisting an officer with violence.

"He would beat me constantly," said Evelyn Sacks, his ex-girlfriend in Ohio and mother of two children to Carr. "I'm glad he's dead. Live like that, die like that." Police confiscated three rifles from his home, including a Chinese version of the AK-47 assault rifle.

Hank Carr: I turned around to put it up, and I guess the butt hit the side of the wall and it went off. It discharged a round right through my son's face. I didn't know what to do. I was scared, I panicked, I flipped out. I knew he was still alive. I tried to get him medical attention. We threw him the car, we took him up, I seen a cop on the side of the road. I stopped him, he was acting like, he was just moving too slow for the emergency situation. I told him, "Look, I can't wait, my son's been shot, I got to go." He hollered out, "Go to the fire department down the street." I pulled into the fire department down the street. All this was an accident.

Well, when I pulled him out of the car and gave him to the paramedics, I felt his pulse again. It was gone. I knew at that time my son was dead.

We had left our little girl there with the neighbors, because my wife, Bernice, didn't want Kayla in the car with Joey, with him bleeding, because it would have freaked her out. So, I took off in the car again, I wasn't under arrest. So, I left and went back to get my daughter and to get the rifle for the cops, to show them. Well, while I was there, the cops showed up, and one of the cops grabbed his gun and said, "Don't move." So, I didn't move. They were sitting there talking to me. I said, "Am I under arrest?" They said, "No." I wanted to go be with my wife and see if my daughter was all right.

So, I took off to be with my wife. I hurt my leg, the cops surrounded me, they threw me in the back of the car, they took me downtown, they asked me a bunch of questions, they called me a liar. I tried to tell them it was an accident. They took me back to the scene, which was bad enough. My son's blood was all over the floor and the walls. And I tried to explain to them exactly what happened, they started calling me a liar, and this and that, and I was going to jail and prison, and blah blah blah.

They put me back in the cop car, and I asked them, you know, "Am I going to prison?" They said, "Yes." I got one of the handcuffs off. I reached up front and got the pistol away from the officer that was driving. The other one jumped in the back seat trying to get it away. I shot them both. I got in the truck that was parked behind me and made the guy get out. I opened up the back of the cop car and grabbed my rifle that they had took. Then I took off up north. I was heading north when the cops started chasing me. They were shooting at me, every underpass I went under they would shoot at the truck. They were shooting at me. They blowed my tires out. Ninty mile an hour, I almost wrecked twice. I finally got the car on the road. They were shooting at me, they shot me through the truck. I was hit in the ass, it's a big hole, I think it's a 45, I'm bleeding bad.

They've surrounded this place, now. I fell off into this gas station, running for my fucking life, and here I am.

And, that's my story. What happened to my son was an accident. It was a terrible accident, and I don't even think I deserve to live. It's unlikely that I'll come out of this alive. I can't see giving myself up to fry in the electric chair. I know I'll fry for the cops.

Don Richards: Who's in the Shell Station with you?

Carr: Um, the lady that works here. No harm will come to her, she's been very nice, very cooperative. If anything, I'll shoot myself. But my wife is supposed to be on the way. They're going to let me talk to her, hopefully she can talk me into making the right decision. Basically, I want to tell her that I'm sorry, and that it was an accident. She was there, she knows it was an accident. And I'm waiting on them.

Richards: Joseph, could you let that lady out?

Carr: Not at this time. Not until I hear from my wife. Which may be time to call now, I don't know what's going on.

Richards: Joseph, what is preventing you from putting down that weapon and just walking out?

Carr: I don't have the weapon, the weapon is laying right here beside me. I haven't had the weapon in my hand for over 15, 20 minutes, now. I'm not in no way threatening this lady. She's visibly upset, but she knows she's going to live. She will live.

Richards: Why don't you just open that door and walk out very slowly?

Carr: Well, there's snipe shooters ... and they're all laying under their cars and all. The police have surrounded ... there's cops everywhere. I'm not going out there. They done shot at me all day. They've been shooting at me for the last 30 miles, you know?

Richards: But if you are not a threat to them, then you should be able to get out OK. Isn't that sort of logical?

Carr: Well, I'm already shot. Logically, I don't want to fry in the electric chair. I don't want to go to prison. I don't want to have to eat the food. I don't want to have to live with people. I just ... I don't want to go to prison. I don't want to go.

Richards: The best advice I can give you would be to let that lady, who has nothing to do with any of this, out of that store. And, you know, and to follow her yourself.

Carr: Do me a favor. My real name isn't Joseph Lee Bennett.

Richards: What is it?

Carr: Hank Earl Carr.

Richards: Hank Carr?

Carr: Yep.

Richards: How do you spell that?

Carr: C-A-R-R. H-A-N-K.

Richards: Can we call your wife, Hank?

Carr: I'm trying to get them to get a hold of her, so I can talk to her now. That's why I'm fixin' to get off the phone, in case she calls. In case they're bringing her in to try to talk me out of this. She's the only one that can. I know you're trying, I appreciate that.

Richards: That lady has nothing to do with any of this, and, you know, she's treated you well.

Carr: She's only served her purpose. She's just keeping me alive long to where I can see my wife.

Richards: Well, again, let her out and ...

Carr: I just wanted to tell my story. My son was an accident. We don't keep loaded guns around the kids. That gun was supposed to be empty. I don't understand what happened.

Richards: A lot of people are going to be asking a lot of questions for a long time about this particular day in the history of Tampa Bay. Hank, let that lady out and then follow her with your hands up. What's your wife's name, Hank?

Carr: Bernice Marie Bowen

Richards: Bernice. Let that lady out and then follow her with your hands up and the situation probably can come to a ...

Carr: Right after I talk to Bernice, I'll probably give her the guns and let her go out and then I'll just lay on the floor here and they can come and get me. But for right now, I want to talk to my wife before I do anything.

Richards: This situation could end peacefully, Hank. Please. Please. OK?

Carr: Ya'll got the story?

Richards: I think we do.

Carr: Thanks, buddy.

Richards: OK.

Carr: Bye.

Tragic, violent day

By Sarah Huntley, Sean Lengell, Ace Atkins and Bill Thompson

The Tampa Tribune

Five people are dead, including three officers, in a three-county spree of violence that started with a child's death.

''That was the last time I heard from them,'' he said, his voice breaking. ''I still have their Christmas presents.''

The incredible tale of violence began with Joey's death.

Police began questioning Carr Tuesday morning after he and the boy's mother brought Joey to a fire station at the corner of Nebraska Avenue and Hanna Street.

The couple pulled up to the station at 9:50 a.m. and carried in the child, who had been shot once in the head, according to Tampa Fire Rescue Capt. Bill Wade. The boy's mother, later identified as Bernice Bowen, 24, pleaded with firefighters to help him.

But Joey wasn't breathing and had no pulse, Wade said. Firefighters tried to resuscitate him; paramedics arrived and pronounced him dead.

''They hooked him up to the monitor, but there was nothing they could do,'' Wade said.

Hearing of the boy's death, Carr jumped into his car and raced back to his apartment at 709 1/2 E. Crenshaw St. Officers caught up with him there.

He and Bowen told police the child had been dragging a loaded, high-powered rifle behind him when it discharged. The account raised suspicions because Joey was shot in the head. But then something happened that made detectives even more wary.

About 10:30 a.m., while detectives were talking to him, Carr bolted. With officers on his tail, he ran through several yards that border Nebraska Avenue. A few minutes into the pursuit, Cpl. Brian O'Connor spotted feet poking out from a clump of bushes along Norfolk Street, less than a quarter-mile from the couple's apartment.

Police arrested Carr there and took him to headquarters for questioning.

''We were treating this as an accidental shooting, but then all of a sudden the guy just took off,'' said police spokesman Steve Cole. ''That put a whole new perspective on our investigation. That's a little bit squirrelly.''

Cole said Carr provided different accounts of how the shooting occurred. In Carr's radio interview, he said he may have hit the butt of the rifle against the wall, causing it to discharge accidentally.

Neighbors said the apartment, one of four in a white, two-story building behind 709 E. Crenshaw St., was a constant source of loud music, gunfire and police activity.

''There was always noise over there,'' said Letha Elder, who lives across the street. ''You can imagine, but it's not for us to say.''

As she held her 5-month-old granddaughter, Elder said her heart went out to the dead child.

''I can't even feel sorry for the parents right now. I feel for that little boy,'' she said.

Former neighbors Charles Campbell and Catherine Phillips said Carr, known to them as Earl and ``Boo,'' was armed nearly all the time.

''It was like a constant thing,'' Phillips said. ''He'd carry the guns around in his pants and sit out there shooting squirrels.``

In January, they said, Carr dropped a pistol on the floor of the apartment. The gun went off, sending a bullet through the floor to a room below, but no one was injured.

Concerned about the weapons and possible abuse to Joey and his 5-year-old sister, Kayla, Campbell called the state Department of Children and Families.

Agency spokesman Tom Jones confirmed the department received two reports of problems at the household. Caseworkers visited but could not substantiate the allegations, he said.

Earlier this month, Joey's mother agreed to accept help from the department, but the agency had not finished putting the services in place, Jones said.

After questioning Carr at headquarters, the detectives took him back to his home to ``walk through'' the shooting scene. He then was placed back in the detectives' car, where - Carr said later on the radio - he wriggled free of one handcuff and grabbed a detective's gun.

He said he shot the detective who was driving and then shot the other as the man tried to dive over the front seat to grab him.

The commotion caught the attention of neighbors in Tampa Heights. Thomas Wilson, 60, ran to the front of his home as his girlfriend pointed to the Ford sedan in the middle of the Floribraska Avenue exit ramp from Interstate 275.

When Wilson reached the car, the sight behind the blood-splattered glass made him turn away. Two men lay slouched in the front seat.

''The driver was leaning against the door and the other was lying across his seat like he was reaching into the back,'' Wilson said. He knew both officers were dead.

Authorities say the triggerman then carjacked a white, 1997 Ford Ranger and headed north on I-275 toward Pasco County.

Tim Bain, a 20-year-old college student from Tampa, was on the interstate en route to his valet job at Saddlebrook resort when he saw the white truck and a state trooper whiz by about 2:30 p.m. Just south of State Road 54, he saw the trooper stop the truck at the Wesley Chapel exit.

Bain said his car and others traveling onto the exit ramp stopped as the showdown took place in front of them.

A man with a rifle jumped out of the truck and walked to the cruiser, Bain said. Sitting in his parked car, Bain didn't see the shooting but heard a gunshot and glass shattering. A moment passed. Another gunshot, more splintered glass.

Then, strangely, another white pickup truck came flying past Bain onto the exit ramp and apparently tried to run down the gunman - actually clipping the gunman's truck, Bain said.

As the gunman got back in his truck and sped off, Bain jumped out of his own car and noticed the trooper's cruiser, with the passenger window shot out, rolling down the ramp.

Bain said he managed to reach into the cruiser and put it in park. But it kept moving, so he had to jump inside to slam on the brakes.

''I'll always remember his face,'' he said of Crooks, a rookie trooper. ''It was like he was looking back at me. When I had that car stopped and I looked at him, I couldn't believe it. It was like something you see in the movies.''

''I tried to talk to him,'' Bain said. ''I said, `Sir, you OK?' But there was no motion, nothing.''

Espinosa was admitted to Oak Hill Hospital in Spring Hill. By 10:15 p.m., he was out of surgery and in stable condition, a nursing supervisor said. Further surgery, scheduled for later this week, is needed for a complete recovery.

Gunman unlocked cuffs with own key

By Sarah Huntley, Kevin Walker and Jacqueline Soteropoulos

The Tampa Tribune

May 21, 1998