How to Destroy a Political Threat: The Chilling Takedown of a Reform Candidate in Oconee County

In the shadowy corridors of Oconee County politics, corruption isn’t just a rumor—it’s the lifeblood of those in power. This story brims with controversy and intrigue, yet it has remained largely hidden from public view, suppressed by those with too much at stake. The 2012 Oconee County Sheriff’s election was nothing short of explosive, filled with unprecedented twists that should have made national headlines. And yet, in this small town, few seem to know even the most basic details of this gripping saga. At the center of it all was James Bartee—a former Secret Service agent with 25 years of experience with the agency, an outsider who dared to challenge the political machine. Backed by personal wealth and a bold promise of reform, his campaign sent shockwaves through the establishment. But just as his momentum grew, he was blindsided by charges that many now believe were nothing more than a meticulously orchestrated takedown. To truly understand what happened, we must unravel the full narrative—one that exposes the ruthless tactics used to protect those in power.

An Outsider’s Fight for Change

James Bartee wasn’t just another candidate—he was a disruptor, a man on a mission to dismantle the entrenched corruption of Oconee County’s political machine. While his opponents were deeply embedded in the good ol’ boys network of the Sheriff’s Department, Bartee was an outsider with a reputation built on integrity and discipline. After serving 25 years in the Secret Service, he settled in Seneca, working as a private investigator. The public perception of a man with sharp investigative skills and commitment to justice made him a well-known figure in the community.

Determined to bring real change, Bartee poured up to $80,000 of his own money into his campaign—rejecting political donors and the influence of backroom power brokers. , his financial independence would have been an asset, freeing him from the usual political entanglements. Instead, it functioned as a liability, marking him as a dangerous wildcard in a system that thrived on loyalty and favors.

Bartee’s platform revolved around transparency and accountability—ideas that shocked a county where nepotism had long decided elections. His promise to bring new eyes to a department plagued by cronyism won over voters eager for reform. To the establishment, he was a threat. New evidence suggests that those in power were willing to do whatever it took to stop him—at all costs.

The Web of Corruption

At the heart of this tangled web of corruption and political maneuvering stands Nick Blackwell—a man whose past is as murky as the scandals he helped shape. An informant for the Oconee County Sheriff’s Department, Blackwell’s reputation is a volatile mix of law enforcement ties and criminal allegations. Long before the explosive 2012 sheriff’s election, he was embroiled in a series of controversies that raised serious questions about his credibility and influence.

One of the most chilling episodes in Blackwell’s past occurred on March 31, 2011, when he shot Michael Sane Barnes six times. While Blackwell claimed self-defense, the circumstances surrounding the shooting remain clouded in contradictions. Adding to the intrigue, Barnes’ wife—also Blackwell’s sister-in-law—died in a car accident while Barnes was sent to prison. Some whispered that the crash was no accident. Blackwell would later become the foster parent of Barnes’ young daughter, a situation that reportedly ignited a bitter feud between the two men. Accusations surfaced that Blackwell had abused the child, and Barnes fought to regain custody. For some, this battle hinted at a far darker motive behind the shooting. People support both sides, some saying Blackwell was justified and others saying the accusations of Barnes were correct. Perhaps we will never know, but one thing is certain, Oconee County Sheriff's department led the investigation.

But Blackwell’s influence didn’t end with personal disputes—it stretched deep into the political underbelly of Oconee County. As the sheriff’s race heated up, he became a key player in derailing not just one, but two campaigns. His most infamous role came in May 2012, when he accused James Bartee—the former Secret Service agent and candidate for sheriff—of soliciting him to kidnap retired Circuit Judge Jimmy Williams. Williams had challenged Bartee’s eligibility to run for sheriff, making him a significant obstacle to Bartee’s campaign. Blackwell, wired by the SLED and Anderson County Sheriff’s Department investigators, recorded conversations with Bartee, leading to Bartee’s arrest and subsequent conviction in 2013.

But Bartee wasn’t the only target. Blackwell also played a role in undermining another candidate, Donnie Fricks, a former deputy with over a decade of service. During a local festival, Blackwell distributed flyers attacking Fricks’ character. When Fricks confronted him, Blackwell accused him of assault—an allegation that further tainted Fricks’ candidacy. To many, it was clear that Blackwell wasn’t just a bystander in these political takedowns; he was actively shaping the election’s outcome.

Behind the scenes, it is said Blackwell held a powerful weapon—compromising information on numerous members of the Oconee Sheriff’s Department. His ability to wield this dirt made him an untouchable figure, one who could influence criminal charges and sway political tides in his favor. Despite his own long history of criminal allegations, Blackwell repeatedly walked free, leading many to believe he had powerful allies ensuring his protection.

As the 2012 election unfolded, it became clear that Nick Blackwell wasn’t just an informant—he was a puppet master, orchestrating events from the shadows to protect those who, in turn, could protect him. In Oconee County, where power often belongs to those willing to play dirty, Blackwell’s involvement was more than just political maneuvering—it was survival. He had skin in the game. Under investigation for murder, he knew that the next sheriff would oversee the very probe that could determine his fate. With so much at stake, Blackwell wasn’t just influencing the election—he was fighting to secure his own future.

The Curious Case of the Kidnapped Judge

Perhaps the most astonishing twist in this scandal was the claim that James Bartee—a candidate who had invested thousands of his own dollars into his campaign—had plotted to kidnap a judge over an election dispute. According to court transcripts, Bartee was accused of soliciting the abduction of retired 10th Circuit Court Judge James C. Williams Jr., a vocal opponent who had publicly challenged Bartee’s eligibility to run for sheriff. Judge Williams argued that Bartee’s 25 years in the Secret Service did not meet the law enforcement experience required for the position.

But the allegations against Bartee were baffling. Court records indicate that Bartee allegedly offered Blackwell less than $200 to carry out the kidnapping. The numbers simply don’t add up. Here was a self-funded candidate, a man of considerable personal wealth with no political debts to any donor or special interest, supposedly orchestrating a life-altering felony for an absurdly small sum. The sheer improbability of the accusation has led many to question the narrative. Could a man who had dedicated his career to national security and high-stakes law enforcement really be reckless enough to plan a crime so outlandish that it defies both logic and financial sense? Or was this yet another carefully engineered takedown in a race where the stakes—and the corruption—were higher than anyone realized? Also, one person said Blackwell claimed he hired to black males in Greenville to execute the kidnapping for $50 each. It would be fascinating to hear the story of how this was the price that came to be.

A Tangle of Testimonies and Tampered Transcripts

At the heart of the prosecution’s case against Bartee were the testimonies of Nick Blackwell and two highly scrutinized audio recordings—both of which formed the crux of the evidence that ultimately led to Bartee’s conviction. One was a recorded phone call from Blackwell to an acquaintance of Bartee. The other was a low-quality microphone recording captured inside Bartee’s home—its poor audio quality and ambiguous dialogue raising more questions than answers.

I have copies of these recordings, along with an explosive recording of James Singleton, in which he openly states his preference for candidates Willson or Crenshaw—despite calling Crenshaw “lazy.” This recording is particularly damning. Singleton not only endorses figures deeply entrenched in Oconee County’s political machine, but he also lists off people and the consequences they faced—remarks that could easily be interpreted as veiled threats against those who dared to back alternative candidates.

Crenshaw was a former deputy fired in 2011 for falsifying time sheets and accused of using work hours for personal affairs. His reputation was already tarnished, yet he remained a viable candidate in the sheriff’s race—further evidence that political loyalty, not integrity, dictated who held power in Oconee County. Singleton’s dismissive tone, labeling Crenshaw as “lazy,” only underscores the backroom nature of these endorsements and the calculated efforts to maintain the status quo.

But perhaps the most revealing aspect of this tangled web is Nick Blackwell’s role. His involvement in bringing down both Fricks and Bartee, while working with the Oconee County Sheriff’s Department, follows a disturbing pattern—one in which he served as an enforcer for the very system he was embedded in. Armed with insider knowledge and dirt on colleagues, Blackwell became the go-to operative for ensuring political threats were neutralized.

The recording from inside Bartee’s home, despite its technical flaws, paints an intriguing picture. Amidst the background noise, Bartee can be heard discouraging Blackwell from whatever he was planning to do and cautioning Blackwell to “think about his family”—a statement that suggests personal stakes far deeper than what prosecutors presented in court. Their conversation carries an almost father-son dynamic, further complicating the narrative. Yet, much of the dialogue remains unclear, leaving room for interpretation—and manipulation.

One crucial detail in the recording stands out: Blackwell handing Bartee money. The purpose of this exchange is never made clear, but what is known is that the cash had been marked by the Oconee County Sheriff’s Office—planted as part of a setup that would later be used to justify Bartee’s arrest.

Taken together, these recordings, testimonies, and political maneuvers reveal an election tainted by corruption, coercion, and a ruthless determination to control the outcome. Yet, the case against Bartee raises more questions than answers. How did a well-funded, independent candidate with a long career in law enforcement find himself at the center of an alleged kidnapping plot—one so bizarre it defies logic? Was this truly a legitimate case of criminal intent, or was Bartee simply the perfect target in a calculated effort to eliminate a political outsider?

The Political Puppeteers: Crenshaw, Fricks, and Wilson

To fully grasp the depth of the political maneuvering in the 2012 Oconee County Sheriff’s race, one must examine the key figures who played a role in shaping its outcome. The three entrenched candidates: Mike Crenshaw, Donnie Fricks, and Terry Wilson—each tied to a complex web of alliances, accusations, and power struggles. And lurking in the background, manipulating events from the shadows, was Nick Blackwell, a man whose actions fueled controversy at every turn.

Mike Crenshaw: The Survivor

Mike Crenshaw’s career took a hit in 2011 when he was fired from the Oconee County Sheriff's Department over allegations of falsifying time sheets and using work hours for personal business. While he never outright denied the allegations, Crenshaw claimed he was the victim of an illegal internal investigation, fueling speculation that his termination was politically motivated. Despite his dismissal, Crenshaw remained a formidable force in Oconee County law enforcement circles, with deep connections that allowed him to stay relevant long after leaving the department.

Donnie Fricks: The Enforcer

A former decorated deputy with over 12 years of service, Donnie Fricks later worked as a consultant in Afghanistan, helping to restructure police forces. But upon his return to Oconee County politics, his campaign for sheriff was quickly entangled in scandal. At the center of it was Nick Blackwell, a man Fricks openly described as an informant for the Oconee County Sheriff’s Office.

The tension between the two came to a head at a local festival, where Blackwell was distributing flyers that dredged up allegations from Fricks’ past—a 1980 assault charge and accusations of domestic abuse from his 1993 divorce. Fricks confronted Blackwell, and what happened next remains a matter of dispute. Blackwell claimed that Fricks grabbed his arm and forcibly took the flyers, prompting him to reach for a container of pepper spray. Fricks, however, argued that Blackwell was deliberately working to discredit him on behalf of another campaign and denied making any physical threats.

The incident led to a formal complaint and an investigation by the South Carolina Law Enforcement Division (SLED). But many saw it as yet another example of Blackwell’s role as a political operative, strategically targeting certain candidates.

Fricks’ troubles didn’t end there. In 2011, he was fired from the Oconee County Sheriff's Office, much like Crenshaw. Sheriff James Singleton accused him of falsifying time sheets and using department resources for personal gain, but Fricks insisted the charges were fabricated to eliminate him from the upcoming election. The timing of his dismissal, along with Singleton’s support for Wilson, without objection to Crenshaw, only added to the theory that the sheriff’s office was conducting a purge of political threats before the race even began.

Terry Wilson: The Power Broker

While Crenshaw and Fricks battled accusations of misconduct, Chief Deputy Terry Wilson remained a powerful player behind the scenes. His tenure was overshadowed by a major scandal involving over $500,000 in embezzled drug forfeiture funds—a financial disaster that many believe could have been uncovered with a simple audit of his personal finances.

Despite persistent rumors of corruption, Wilson maintained his position, some say, largely due to his political loyalty. In private recordings of then-Sheriff James Singleton, Wilson is repeatedly mentioned as a favored successor. These recordings strongly show that the sheriff’s office had already chosen its preferred candidates long before the voters ever got a say.

Nick Blackwell: The Wild Card

Interwoven into the campaigns of Crenshaw, Fricks, Wilson and Bartee was Nick Blackwell, a man whose actions had far-reaching consequences. Blackwell’s history of entanglement in criminal investigations—including a 2011 shooting where he killed a man under suspicious circumstances—made him an unlikely but highly useful political operative.

Blackwell’s role in the 2012 election was anything but neutral. He strategically filed charges, distributed damaging material, and stirred controversy, targeting candidates who posed a threat to the establishment. Fricks publicly accused Blackwell of working as an informant, a claim that is proven true in the take down of Bartee. Blackwells involvement raises serious concerns about law enforcement’s role in shaping the election.

The Puzzling Economics of a Crime

One of the most baffling aspects of this case is the sheer financial absurdity at its core. James Bartee had already poured tens of thousands of dollars into his campaign, proving his commitment and independence by self-funding his bid for sheriff. Yet, despite this significant personal investment, he was accused of masterminding a kidnapping plot for the laughable sum of $178—a figure so absurdly low it defies logic.

According to the allegations, Bartee allegedly paid Nick Blackwell this paltry amount to abduct retired Judge James C. Williams Jr., transport him three hours away, and prevent him from presiding over a critical hearing that would challenge Bartee’s eligibility. But here’s where the math simply doesn’t add up: Why would a man willing to spend a fortune on his campaign suddenly cut corners when it came to a high-risk felony?

To skeptics, this glaring mismatch in expenditures is not evidence of a poorly planned crime—but of an outright setup. The idea that Bartee—a man with a 25-year career in the Secret Service, trained in precision and law enforcement strategy—would orchestrate such a crude and reckless operation seems beyond belief. How does someone renowned for dismantling high-level criminal networks as a private detective suddenly bungle a crime so obvious it ensures his immediate downfall? The more one examines the numbers, the obvious it becomes: this wasn’t a botched plan. It was a calculated takedown.

The real question isn’t whether Bartee was guilty—but why those in power were so desperate to eliminate him. In a department already rife with corruption, was this so-called plot merely a distraction, designed to deflect attention away from the real players pulling the strings?

The Deadly Family Feud: Blackwell, Barnes, and the Fight for Power

Nick Blackwell admitted to shooting Mikey Barnes—but the deeper one looks into their tangled history, the more unsettling the story becomes. Was this truly self-defense, or was Blackwell fighting for something far more personal?

To understand the potential motive behind Barnes’ death, one must first examine the family dynamics that linked Blackwell and Barnes in a web of conflict. Blackwell’s wife’s sister was married to Mikey Barnes. Barnes was Blackwell’s brother-in-law. When Barnes was incarcerated, his wife—Blackwell’s sister-in-law—died in a car accident under circumstances that many found suspicious. Then, in a dark twist that sounds ripped from a crime novel, Blackwell took custody of Barnes’ young daughter.

When Barnes was released from prison, he reportedly wanted his daughter back—a battle that some insiders believe became the catalyst for his murder. Blackwell claimed self-defense, but troubling details emerged that cast doubt on his version of events. For instance, when Barnes’ body was searched, a firearm was discovered in his right coat pocket—despite the fact that he was known to be left-handed. Additionally, if the gun never left his pocket, how could he have posed an imminent threat worthy of the self-defense claim?

The discrepancies in the forensic evidence surrounding Barnes’ death only deepened the mystery. And as the 2012 sheriff’s election approached, it became increasingly clear that Blackwell had a vested interest in the outcome.

With a potential murder charge looming and a desperate need to secure allies in power, Blackwell appeared to be working toward installing a sheriff who could shield him from scrutiny. The sheriff’s office would ultimately oversee the investigation into Barnes’ death—and, by extension, control Blackwell’s fate.

The stakes were enormous, and Blackwell’s actions during the election suggest he wasn’t just fighting for political influence—he was fighting to stay out of prison.

A Trial Tainted by Corruption: The Manipulation of Justice

The courtroom drama that followed James Bartee’s arrest was as murky and contentious as the backroom dealings that had set the stage for his downfall. Presided over by Judge McIntosh, a circuit court judge known for his disregard for the law, harsh rulings and rigid courtroom control, the trial unfolded as a spectacle of conflicting testimonies, questionable evidence, and judicial decisions that raised more eyebrows than gavels.

But at the center of the controversy stood Solicitor Chrissy Adams, the prosecutor for Oconee County in 2012, who is accused of manipulating key testimony and transcripts to secure Bartee’s conviction. In fact, recordings were submitted as evidence, despite the fact that no original recording were provided by SLED, in horrific violation of the South Carolina Rules of Evidence!

The hundreds of pages of trial transcripts reveal a case riddled with contradictions, but one of the most controversial aspects was how the jury received and reviewed evidence. After deliberations stretched into Labor Day weekend, the jury was dismissed on Friday and ordered to reconvene the following Tuesday. But when they returned, an alarming procedural shift took place: instead of allowing jurors to listen to a critical audio recording a second time, they were handed transcripts.

These questionable transcripts, allegedly manipulated under Adams' direction, contained lines that never existed in the actual recording—lines that suggested Bartee had explicitly ordered Blackwell to kidnap Judge Williams. This claim, by all accounts, was not supported by the audio evidence itself. Critics argue that Adams deliberately altered the transcripts and dismantled the audio player in the jury deliberation quarters to ensure a guilty verdict, protecting not just the sheriff’s office but her own solicitor’s office as well—both of which stood to lose if the case against Bartee collapsed.

But the tampering didn’t stop there. Judge McIntosh made a shocking ruling that prohibited the defense from questioning Blackwell about his character, meaning his extensive criminal history and deep ties to the Oconee County Sheriff’s Office were never revealed to the jury. In essence, the trial shielded Blackwell from scrutiny while placing Bartee under a microscope.

Adding to the growing list of irregularities, an individual close with the Clemson City Police stated that Blackwell was called ot the Clemson Police Department by Sled where he was presented the audio and was asked to “fill in the blanks” on inaudible portions of the recording, effectively inserting his own version of events into evidence—a clear introduction of hearsay from a witness whose integrity was already compromised. With a key piece of evidence manipulated, a deeply compromised witness leading the case, and a judicial process seemingly rigged against the defendant, the trial of James Bartee appears to be less about justice—and more about ensuring the survival of a deeply entrenched power structure that reached from the Sheriff’s Office through the Solicitor’s Office and into the 10th Circuit Court.

A Systemic Setup to Silence Reform

Perhaps the most damning aspect of this saga is the growing consensus that James Bartee was set up. His independent candidacy was a direct threat to the corruption-riddled system that had long operated without accountability in Oconee County. Unlike his opponents, Bartee was not tied to the entrenched political network that had controlled the sheriff’s office for generations. His promise to bring fresh oversight and enforce real accountability sent shockwaves through a system built on backroom deals and unchecked power.

The criminal charges levied against Bartee—including the bizarre allegation that he hired a known informant for a kidnapping plot—appear to have been calculated not to seek justice, but to destroy a rising reformer. When a man who self-funded his campaign to eliminate corruption is suddenly accused of a felony so implausible it defies reason, the question must be asked: Was the evidence manipulated to ensure that the one candidate willing to challenge the status quo would be permanently discredited?

At the center of this orchestrated takedown was Nick Blackwell, a man whose history of leveraging criminal connections and personal vendettas made him the perfect pawn for those desperate to maintain control. Blackwell’s role in Bartee’s case was no isolated event—his involvement in undermining Donnie Fricks, another adversary of the sheriff’s office, further suggests a wider conspiracy to eliminate threats to the establishment.

In a county where power is determined not by competence, but by allegiance to the old guard, Blackwell’s maneuvering reveals a system willing to sacrifice even its own members to maintain control. The Bartee case was never about justice—it was about preserving the grip of those who had the most to lose if the truth came to light.

The Unanswered Questions

Even years after the tumultuous 2012 sheriff’s election, critical questions remain unanswered. How could a respected candidate with decades of public service suddenly find himself accused of a crime so outlandish that the financial details alone defy logic? Why would an independently wealthy man like James Bartee—who spent his career upholding the law—be implicated in a scheme that reeks of desperation and manipulation?

Critics point to the glaring inconsistencies in the case: a payment so small it borders on absurdity, transcripts allegedly altered before being presented to the jury, and a sole prosecution witness—Nick Blackwell—whose credibility was dubious at best. The pieces don’t fit, and to many, the evidence suggests a deliberate effort by powerful interests to fabricate a narrative that would permanently destroy Bartee’s political future.

Adding further weight to these concerns is the sentencing itself. Bartee was handed a 10-year sentence, suspended to 5 years, by Judge McIntosh, a judge infamously known as “Mr. 10-Years” for his reputation of imposing excessively harsh sentences. To those following the case, it’s yet another indication that Bartee’s trial wasn’t about justice—it was about protecting a corrupt system from a man who dared to challenge it.

The Aftermath and Future Implications

In a stunning reversal that underscores the arbitrary nature of justice in Oconee County, James Bartee was released from prison after serving 25 months—and later received a pardon from South Carolina Pardon Board with Governor Henry McMaster’s authority. This was not merely an act of clemency; to many, it was an implicit admission that Bartee’s conviction had been deeply flawed. But rather than closing the book on the case, the pardon only fuels suspicions that Bartee had been deliberately targeted—to eliminate a reformer who threatened the status quo.

The fallout from this scandal has left a lasting scar on the community. For many, Bartee’s case is not just an isolated injustice—it is proof of a system built to protect the powerful at all costs. A judiciary beholden to political interests. A sheriff’s department entrenched in cronyism. A solicitor’s office shielding the corrupt while padding their own pockets. A political culture where loyalty trumps integrity.

This case has ignited calls for independent audits—not just into the sheriff’s office, but into the solicitor’s and judiciary offices as well. The demand is simple: follow the money. The personal wealth of those involved should not exceed what their salaries—or family assets—can reasonably justify.

And yet, a true investigation cannot stop at the departments themselves. Audit not just the institutions, but the individuals within them. Their financial records, their hidden transactions, their unexplained assets—because where there is unchecked wealth in public office, there is corruption waiting to be exposed.

At its core, corruption in Oconee County is not just about power—it’s about money. And many believe that the answers lie in the financial histories of those pulling the strings.

For reform advocates and watchdog groups, this case should be a rallying cry for transparency and accountability. Yet, the silence surrounding it speaks volumes. The establishment’s grip on local media has kept this scandal from receiving the coverage it deserves, ensuring that critical questions remain unanswered. Jerry Edwards, the one time owner and current manager of the Seneca Journal, has been surrounded by scandal for decades.

If journalism thrives in the relentless pursuit of truth, then transparency remains the last defense against corruption. Investigative reporters should be combing through trial transcripts, financial records, and backroom deals—exposing the true architects of this elaborate setup.

This battle was never just about James Bartee—it is about whether justice is truly blind or just another weapon in the hands of the powerful.

The Broader Picture: Corruption, Manipulation, and the Cost of Reform

Beyond the specifics of the Bartee case lies a larger, more troubling reality—a stark commentary on the nature of political power and the extreme lengths to which entrenched interests will go to maintain their grip on authority. Across the country, candidates who dare to challenge the status quo often face smear campaigns, character assassinations, and in some cases, outright fabrication of criminal charges. This Oconee County scandal is a textbook example of this phenomenon, demonstrating just how high the price of reform can be when power is controlled by those willing to abuse the system.

This case forces uncomfortable but necessary questions: How did a system that once prided itself on discipline and accountability become so deeply enmeshed in self-serving conspiracies? What safeguards exist—if any—to prevent those in power from weaponizing the justice system to silence dissent and protect their own interests? And more disturbingly, how many other reformers have been eliminated before their stories could even be told?

Oconee County is just one chapter in a much larger story, but it serves as a blueprint for how small towns across America can reclaim justice and demand accountability. This case is more than just a scandal—it is a call to action. By exposing corruption at the local level, we set the foundation for a broader movement to dismantle the networks of power that thrive in secrecy.

When justice is no longer about truth but about shielding the powerful, every citizen becomes a potential casualty of a system designed not to serve them—but to control them. The fight for justice begins in our own communities. If we fail to confront corruption where it starts, we allow it to flourish everywhere.

Final Thoughts: A Legacy in Question

The saga of James Bartee and the 2012 sheriff’s election is far from over. It is a story of ambition and betrayal, of an outsider’s quest for reform—thwarted by a system desperate to protect its own. As new evidence continues to surface and public outcry for justice grows louder, Bartee’s legacy—and the shadowy figures who orchestrated his downfall—remains inseparably linked to a broader fight against corruption.

The central question looms: How many other reformers have been silenced before they ever had the chance to enact change? How many candidates with the courage to challenge entrenched power have been set up, discredited, or eliminated—their potential sacrifices on the altar of a corrupt establishment? The case of James Bartee serves as a stark warning for reformers everywhere: even the most principled warriors can fall victim to a system willing to go to extraordinary lengths to preserve its grip on power.

The evidence tells a damning story. Testimonies from unreliable figures, inaudible recordings treated as gospel, and financial anomalies that defy explanation all suggest that the case against Bartee was less about crime and more about control. The contradictions, the unanswered questions, and the deliberate manipulation of evidence expose a carefully orchestrated setup designed to neutralize a political threat. This is not just the story of one man’s downfall—it is a direct challenge to the very foundations of justice in Oconee County, where power, money, and loyalty create an impenetrable shield for the corrupt.

While the full story is still being uncovered, hundreds of pages of trial transcripts remain to be fully analyzed. But one thing is increasingly clear: the real crime may not have been committed by James Bartee at all—but by those who conspired to destroy him. In a system where the voices of reformers are silenced by the weight of old alliances, the true cost of challenging corruption is measured not just in years behind bars, but in the erosion of public trust and the perpetuation of injustice.

Note: Prior to publication, a draft of this article was sent to Mike Crenshaw at mcrenshaw@oconeelaw.com for comment. There was no reply. I anyone would like to add content to this story, please reach out to us at info@oconeenews.org

Note: Mike Crenshaw is the current Sheriff of Oconee County and Judge McIntosh continues to preside over the 10th Circuit Court’s criminal trials and civil hearings. When corruption is not addressed, it flourishes. We suffer today from the inaction of yesterday and this vicious cycle will continue if we, as citizens, remain complicit.

Note: Every contributor to this article has asked to remain anonymous. Contributors include people close to the Bartee campaign, residents that followed the election and a concerned citizen of significant political influence. I was given a flash drive that contained evidence and contacts. I worked hard to contact those I could. Some of the people involved I could not find. Additionally, I interviewed numerous citizens by simply asking if they know anything about the 2012 Oconee County Sheriff’s election.

Note: I have been told by almost everyone I interviewed that if I dig up this story my life will be in danger. I hope this is not true, and it does tell a story about the reputation of Law Enforcement in Oconee County.

Note: This article was edited regarding how it came to be that Blackwell “filled in the blanks” from the audio recording after I received an off the record call. Thank you to the outpouring of support that has come in since its publication this morning. I now have 3 different witnesses to events that have agreed to go on the record. We will be publishing on this issue again soon.