Category: Memphis-Marks Ring

  • The Wrong Roll of Film II: Ray Driggers Confirms He Knew Prince Mongo

    The Wrong Roll of Film II: Ray Driggers Confirms He Knew Prince Mongo

    Some interesting developments occurred since the publication of Part One. I could not have anticipated that one of the subjects of Part One would show up in the comments section after Mongo’s recent passing. 

    When I published Part One, I had already found an intriguing possible point of contact between Prince Mongo and the Memphis-Marks child trafficking case. In 1980 Winsor Stockton, Marvin Ray Driggers, and Joe Benson were arrested in connection with a multistate child-trafficking and CSAM production operation. Stockton and Driggers were incarcerated without incident, but the wealthy Benson went on the run for five months, before being arrested by federal agents.  [1, 2]

    Last month, my suspicions over Mongo being a potential pedophile, mounted when  I came across a nearly two year old comment. I examined the public allegation made by a brave Memphis-area commenter. Because the precise wording matters, this is what the commenter wrote:

    “Little known fact about ole Prince Mongo . He had a insatiable appetite for young boys to the point he was nearly rounded up with Windsor Stockton and Ray Driggers down in Mississippi for transporting boys from 7-15 years old. Prince Mongos awesome speedboat pulled them right in. He had money so he testified against the others. He went on to have some of the best clubs that catered heavily to the underage .! He is such a great person. All these facts are readily available. He literally love’s little boys !” [3]

    This is a claim, not a proven account. However, it contained unusually specific names, a place, an age range, a boat and a supposed explanation for why Mongo was not prosecuted with the others.

    I pored over my Prince Mongo notes alongside the records I had compiled on the Memphis–Marks case, searching for any place where the two histories might intersect. Then I found one.

    Winsor Stockton and Prince Mongo at Juvenile Court

    In March 1969, a Memphis newspaper reported that Bob Hodges—aka Prince Mongo—and his chimpanzee, Coco, “put on little shows for children in hospitals, orphanages, and Juvenile Court.At that very time, Winsor Stockton was employed as a counselor at Shelby County Juvenile Court, where he worked from November 1965 until June 1969. The article does not prove that Hodges and Stockton met, or that Stockton was present for one of Coco’s performances. It does, however, place Hodges inside the same institution where Stockton worked, during the same narrow period—the first documented overlap I had found between Mongo and one of the men named in the allegation. [4, 5]

    It ‘s an overlap. It’s not proof the two men had met. Still, it was more than I expected to find.

    Then, almost immediately after publishing Part One, I searched Facebook again for one of the convicted men’s names + Prince Mongo. I had run the same search before. This time, because Mongo had died and people were talking about him again, there was something new.

    Marvin Ray Driggers commented on a post about Mongo’s passing

    “His name is Robert Hodgens,” Driggers wrote. “He was a Fraternity brother of mine in Kappa Sigma at Memphis State University before the name change to University of Memphis.” [6]

    He appears to have added an n to Hodges. The important part was perfectly clear: Driggers was publicly claiming that he knew Mongo! Not merely in passing. He remembered him as a fraternity brother.

    That was a turn of events.

    I had verified that Stockton and Driggers were real people connected to a real multistate child-trafficking operation. The fact that the commenter remembered those long forgotten names more than forty years later was what made the allegation difficult to dismiss. But I could not establish the central connection: that either man had actually known Prince Mongo.

    Now one of those men had answered that question himself.

    This does not prove the allegation. It does not prove Mongo participated in the crimes that sent Driggers to prison. It does not even settle whether “fraternity brother” was literally accurate.

    But Ray Driggers says he knew Mongo.

    And then I found his second comment.

    On another Facebook post, this one about Ashlar Hall, Driggers wrote:

    “Ashley Hall. What a super place. Been there many times when it was a bar Owned and ran by Prince Mongo aka Spirit and Kappa Sigma fraternity brother.” [7]

    He wrote Ashley, but another commenter corrected the name to Ashlar. The words are clumsy, but, Driggers said he had been there many times when the building was a bar owned and operated by Prince Mongo.

    Then I found a third comment from Driggers, this one written directly as a farewell to Mongo:

    “Rest in Peace my Spirit. You were one of a Kind. So Blessed to be yourself friend 🧡” [8]

    Driggers called Mongo “my Spirit” and described himself as blessed to be his friend. His own words suggest a closeness, not merely a distant campus character remembered decades later. 

    Well, well, well.

    The first comment placed Driggers and Mongo together in the Memphis State fraternity world. The second carried the relationship forward by decades. The third described it in unmistakably personal terms. Ashlar Hall entered the Hodges family’s hands in 1993, more than twelve years after Driggers pleaded guilty in the Memphis-Marks case. [2, 9] By Driggers’s own account, he was repeatedly visiting Mongo’s establishment after his imprisonment, and he considered Mongo a friend.

    Yes, It Is That Ray Driggers

    Marvin Ray Driggers Facebook Profile Picture

    A Facebook name alone is not enough. People share names. So I went back through the records.

    The 1967-68 Memphis State University student, faculty and staff directory lists Marvin Ray Driggers by his full name. [10] The university’s 1969 DeSoto yearbook lists Marvin Driggers among the undergraduates and Ray Driggers among the members of Kappa Sigma’s Epsilon Pi chapter. [11]

    The newspaper archive makes the identification even cleaner. A May 1968 campus column in The Commercial Appeal announced Kappa Sigma’s new officers and named Ray Driggers as secretary. [12] A September 1969 photograph in the Memphis Press-Scimitar identified him as one of the Memphis State cheerleaders performing for first-graders at the university’s laboratory school. [13]

    None of those records mentions Mongo. They establish Driggers’s side of the claim: he really was a Memphis State student, a Kappa Sigma officer and a highly visible participant in campus life.

    The age also fits. Reports described Ray Driggers as thirty-three when he was arrested in 1980. [14] His birth date, education, full name, and later Memphis history also align with public records.

    Before the Arrest, Driggers Was Ousted From Coaching Basketball

    The newspaper biography of the man behind that Facebook profile makes the story considerably more disturbing.

    In 1974, the Memphis Press-Scimitar introduced twenty-six-year-old Ray Driggers as Westside High School’s new head basketball coach. The profiles cast him as an energetic young disciplinarian: he imposed a 9:30 p.m. curfew, required his players to wear coats and ties to school, and later made the entire team run cross-country. One article praised him as “living proof” of positive thinking and “a coach who talks about his kids first.” [15, 16]

    By 1976, Driggers had moved to Oakhaven High School as head coach. Then, in November 1977, officials abruptly removed him from coaching and transferred him to a noncoaching position at Hamilton High School. The superintendent and other administrators refused to explain why, saying only that the move was in the school’s and Driggers’s “best interest.” Driggers, acting on his attorney’s advice, also declined to comment. [17, 18]

    Students angry at the perceived mistreatment of Driggers, and their loss of playing basketball, walked out in protest. The Memphis Education Association investigated. The strangest wording came from an Oakhaven booster chairman, who said he had seen no evidence “to prove guilt of the charges against him.” Neither the newspapers nor school officials explained what those “charges” were.. [18, 19, 20]

    A Defiant Driggers 

    Later that year, Driggers made the news again during a teachers’ strike. In October 1978, he was arrested on a warrant for blocking a school entrance and disorderly conduct. The warrant had been sworn out by an Oakhaven assistant principal. [21] 

    I can’t invent an explanation for the 1977 transfer. But whatever prompted it was serious enough that school officials refused to elaborate publicly and Driggers declined to comment on the advice of his attorney. That raises an eyebrow, even if it does not answer the question. By the time the Memphis–Marks investigation reached Driggers in 1980, reporting identified him as a Hamilton High School teacher. [14] None of the school articles accused Driggers of abusing a student or player.

    But the biography is still haunting. Before Driggers pleaded guilty in a case involving the sexual abuse of boys, he had spent years as a junior-high and high-school basketball coach with authority over adolescent boys.

    This is the same Marvin Ray Driggers who was indicted with Winsor Stockton and Joe Eddins Benson Jr. in Quitman County, Mississippi. In 1981, Driggers pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit what Mississippi law then called “unnatural intercourse.” He received a five-year sentence, with the final two years suspended, and was ordered not to associate with males under eighteen during the full five-year period. [2]

    Driggers now says Robert Hodges was his Kappa Sigma fraternity brother, that he visited Mongo’s Ashlar Hall “many times,” and that he felt blessed to have been Mongo’s friend. Because Mongo did not begin operating Ashlar Hall until around 1993, Driggers was describing a relationship that continued after his imprisonment.

    That timing is disturbing because Mongo’s pizza parlors and Ashlar Hall were widely known as high-school hangouts where teenagers went to get blackout drunk. Public accounts from named former patrons contain darker allegations. A Memphis woman, writing under her real name, alleged that some young patrons were surreptitiously drugged and that Mongo gave LSD to teenagers. Another man publicly claimed that Mongo poured him a shot, told him there were poppers behind the bar and appeared to be making a pass at him.

    Those allegations are not the same as independently established facts, but neither are they anonymous internet whispers. Underage patronage was not some incidental flaw in Mongo’s establishments; by account after account, it was a defining feature. Placed beside Driggers’s admission that he visited Ashlar Hall repeatedly after his imprisonment, the picture becomes more unsettling.

    That does not prove Hodges participated in the crimes that sent Driggers to prison. It does, however, eliminate the convenient possibility that Mongo and every man named in the allegation were complete strangers.

    One of them certainly was not.

    Fraternity Brother — or Campus Ghost?

    Long before I found Driggers’s comment, I had encountered whispers about Mongo and Memphis State.

    There was never just one story. Some people remembered that he had attended the university. Others suggested that he taught there or simply spent a great deal of time around campus. One recollection placed him playing racquetball at night with Elvis Presley. That was the flashiest version, so naturally it attracted my attention, but it was part of a larger collection of memories placing Hodges somewhere inside the Memphis State world.

    None of those accounts came with evidence.

    There was, however, one period-specific recollection already sitting in my notes. A former business manager of the Memphis State student newspaper, the Tiger Rag, later wrote that Mongo—then still Robert Hodges of the Dalion Et Rae men’s store—held an annual advertising contract with the paper in 1967–68 and “did quite a bit of advertising.” [22] It is an online recollection, not a university record, and it does not place Hodges in a classroom or on a fraternity roll. It does show that his business was actively courting the Memphis State community during the same academic year in which Driggers appears in the university directory.

    Driggers’ comment changes their weight. For the first time, someone whose presence at Memphis State and membership in Kappa Sigma can be independently verified has placed Hodges in that same environment.

    Kappa Sigma Memphis State University 1969 [30]

    I still cannot confirm that Hodges was formally enrolled at Memphis State. He does not appear under “Robert Hodges” in the 1967-68 university directory, and I have not found him among the undergraduates or Kappa Sigma roster in the 1969 yearbook. [10, 11]

    His later presence on campus, however, is documented. Memphis State’s 1980 DeSoto yearbook included Hodges in a feature titled “MSU Welcomes Local and National Guests.” It reported that the Student Government Association invited the four 1979 Memphis mayoral candidates to appear and that three accepted: Pat Halloran, Otis Higgs and Robert “Prince Mongo” Hodges. [23] This doesn’t establish enrollment—and it occurred roughly a decade after the period Driggers appears to be describing.

    That absence matters, but it is not conclusive. Hodges may have attended part-time, belonged to Kappa Sigma through another institution, associated with the Memphis chapter as an alumnus, or been remembered more formally than the facts justify. 

    Hodges would have been about thirty-two during the 1967-69 academic years, older than the typical undergraduate. He was already established in Memphis, operating a men’s clothing business on Union Avenue and developing the marketing instincts that would later become Prince Mongo.

    Regardless of Hodges enrollment status, Driggers remembered Hodges as part of his fraternity life nearly sixty years later. Their relationship existed before Prince Mongo became a Memphis legend.

    One newspaper report adds another, equally unverified wrinkle. During a 1980 federal insurance hearing, courtroom observers were told that Hodges was a Columbia University graduate and had run an import-export business in New York before moving to Memphis. [24]

    Mongo and Winsor Stockton both at Juvenile Court

    Winsor Stockton High School Photo
    Winsor Stockton,
    Memphis State University 1966

    Before Driggers supplied this direct connection, the strongest potential point of contact I had found involved a chimpanzee named Coco. 

    In the late 1960s, Robert Hodges aka Mongo and Taman “Tom” Aseff operated a men’s clothing store in Memphis. By the summer of 1968, the store had acquired the male chimpanzee. Coco wore clothes, appeared in advertisements and became part mascot, and traveling attraction for children. 

    A March 1969, profile reported that Mongo had taken Coco to orphanages, children’s hospitals and Juvenile Court. The article identified Hodges and Aseff as co-owners and captured an early version of the showman who would later become Prince Mongo from Zambodia. [4]

    The date is important.

    Winsor Stockton worked as a probation counselor in the Shelby County Juvenile Court’s central detention intake area from November 1965 until June 1, 1969. Juvenile Court officials later said he was fired for “unsatisfactory performance.” [5]

    The overlap is difficult to shrug off. Stockton had been working inside institutions for vulnerable boys since he was still a boy himself. In 1960, while attending high school, he worked as a recreational counselor at Memphis Boys Town, where his father, Joe Stockton, was executive director. Former residents would later accuse the elder Stockton of brutal punishment, including beatings with a leather belt kept in a freezer; one described him as “a sadist and a child abuser.” These are retrospective allegations, but they place Winsor’s earliest professional access to boys inside an institution controlled by his own father.  

    By November 1965, Stockton had become a probation counselor at Shelby County Juvenile Court—a position he held until June 1969, when he was fired for the maddeningly vague reason of “unsatisfactory performance.” The surviving report does not say that his dismissal involved sexual misconduct. What it does establish is that Stockton was still employed at Juvenile Court during the same narrow period in which newspapers reported Prince Mongo bringing Coco there to entertain children. That does not prove the two men met, but it places Stockton and Mongo, whose repeated access to children is now under scrutiny, within the orbit of the same juvenile institution at the same time.

    In other words, the newspaper placed Hodges bringing Coco into Juvenile Court during the same period Stockton worked there.

    I have not found any additional material, or witness who places them together.

    But this is no longer a vague claim that two Memphians might once have crossed paths somewhere in the same city. Hodges was going to the same institution where Stockton worked, during Stockton’s documented employment. That is a legitimate opportunity for contact.

    On its own, it remained a thin bridge.

    Then Driggers identified Mongo as his fraternity brother.

    Now there are two separate lines placing Mongo near men later convicted in the same case: a direct personal claim from Driggers and an institutional overlap with Stockton.

    Reading the Comment Again

    When I first found the allegation, its most remarkable feature was specificity. They named Winsor Stockton and Ray Driggers. They placed the activity in Mississippi. He referred to transporting boys between seven and fifteen years old.

    Stockton and Driggers were indicted in Mississippi and that the investigation involved boys from multiple states. Different reports described victims from Tennessee, Mississippi, Georgia, Pennsylvania and Florida. Some placed their ages between seven and fifteen, the same range the commenter used decades later. [1, 5]

    That does not tell me where the commenter learned the story. They may have known someone involved, experienced something first hand, remembered news coverage, or repeated a rumor that mixed truth with embellishment. But the independently verifiable pieces of his comment continue to accumulate.

    They claimed that Driggers knew Mongo. Driggers has now made that claim himself three times.

    They claimed Mongo had a speedboat. A 1975 newspaper account quoted one of Hodges’s neighbors complaining that he kept several cars, motorcycles, and a boat outside his Eastmoreland home. [25] A television interview from the 1990s also showed Mongo’s yacht in Florida. [31 ] That establishes only that Hodges apparently owned or possessed a boat—not what kind it was or what he did with it.

    Finally, the commenter claimed Mongo avoided arrest because he had money and testified against the others. I have no record naming Hodges as a suspect in the Memphis-Marks investigation.

    I plan to send a FOIA to the FBI and Marks but it’s unlikely I would ever have access to grand jury testimony, though some other important information may be gleaned, depending on what I can recover. 

    The Film Processor 

    James Woodrow Wilson

    I have also continued trying to understand James Woodrow Smith, the California link in the case.

    Smith was thirty-two years old and originally from Mississippi. Reports described him as a former Memphian employed by a commercial film processing lab in Burbank. Investigators believed illicit photographs from the Memphis-Marks operation were normally sent to California for processing and that Smith was the intended recipient. [1, 26]

    Smith died from a shotgun wound to the head in his garage on March 25, 1980, one day after Stockton was first detained and the same day police searched Stockton’s apartment. His death was ruled a suicide. [26]

    The surviving reporting does not give us the neat confession that later retellings invite us to imagine. Burbank detective Walt Lencki said Smith had recently appeared worried and depressed, but also said Smith was not being investigated by his office. Two friends said they had never heard him mention Stockton. Smith left a note, but the note reportedly gave no reason for his death. [26]

    Memphis authorities nevertheless believed Smith had learned about the raid. How he might have learned, what investigators had told California authorities and whether Smith actually processed any of the seized material remain unclear.

    To the casual observer, Smith’s timing suggests an obvious explanation: investigators were closing in on a child-trafficking and CSAM production operation, and guilt or fear overwhelmed him. But anyone familiar with how such networks can function may see a darker possibility.

    A man who processed photographs depicting the abuse of children could have known far more than the names printed in the newspaper, particularly if the material implicated people with money or institutional protection. That does not prove this ring extended into more powerful circles, nor does it prove Smith was silenced. It does, however, make his position potentially dangerous. Perhaps the guilt consumed him. Or perhaps someone understood that dead men tell no tales.

    I’ll be doing more research into Smith and a single article dedicated to him will be forthcoming. 

    Joe Benson a Pedophile in Pensacola

    While the Mongo connection sharpened, the story of Joe Eddins Benson Jr. became worse.

    Part One followed Benson through the raid on his barred farmhouse, his months as a fugitive, his arrest at Memphis’s Rivermont Hotel and his eventual guilty pleas. The case ended in 1981 with prison sentences, suspended time and additional Quitman County indictments expected to be “retired to the files.” [2]

    The public story did not end there.

    Ten years later, Benson resurfaced in Pensacola, Florida.

    In March 1991, the Pensacola News Journal reported that Benson had been arrested in another case involving photographs of boys and material authorities described as child pornography. According to the newspaper, Benson told the boys to whom he showed CSAM that the material came from eighty-five Mexican boys he had adopted. [27]

    I have not located any independent reporting substantiating a program involving eighty-five Mexican orphans. The claim should therefore be presented as Benson’s reported explanation, not as a fact. Regardless, Benson’s explanations are sickening. I can only hope it wasn’t true.

    In what appears to have been an extraordinary miscarriage of justice, a July 1991 follow-up reported that the Florida case ended with probation. Police had interviewed several young boys and found hoards of candy, CSAM, and a catalogue advertising CSAM for sale in Benson’s apartment. Even with his prior record, Benson received probation. [28]

    The first time, he was the generous farmer who bought clothing, motorcycles and even an education for vulnerable children. The second time, according to the Pensacola report, he was the benefactor of dozens of Mexican orphans, and kids around Pensacola. 

    By 1991 CSAM laws were firmly in place. How Benson managed to stay out of prison, given those charges, and his prior record of child-trafficking can not easily be explained, though I doubt being wealthy hurt.

    By 2000, an obituary for Benson’s mother again listed Ed Benson as living in Marks. [29] I have not located any subsequent reporting on Benson.

    So Where Does This Leave Mongo?

    When I began, I had an allegation containing two forgotten names. I verified the men had committed those crimes, but the line to Mongo remains speculative. Now one of those men has drawn the line himself, extended it into the 1990s and called Mongo his friend.

    By Driggers’s own public account, he and Robert Hodges were fraternity brothers at Memphis State. The university and newspaper records confirm Driggers’s presence and Kappa Sigma membership, although Hodges’s status remains unresolved. Driggers has also said he went to Ashlar Hall many times while Mongo owned and operated it. Because Ashlar Hall did not enter the Hodges family’s hands until 1993, that statement carries their association beyond college and beyond Driggers’s imprisonment. And in a separate condolence, Driggers called Mongo “my Spirit” and described himself as blessed to be his friend. [7, 8, 9]

    Hodges also appeared at Shelby County Juvenile Court with Coco during the final months of Winsor Stockton’s employment there. That provides an opportunity for contact, not proof that contact occurred.

    The original Facebook allegation accurately preserved the names, Mississippi setting, approximate victim ages and interstate movement associated with the original case. It also contained claims about Mongo’s supposed cooperation that remain unverified. This is where exploratory research becomes uncomfortable.

    I cannot say the allegation has been proven. I can no longer say I have found no direct connection between Mongo and the men it named.

    The honest conclusion lies in the irritating middle: Ray Driggers says Mongo was his fraternity brother, says he later frequented Mongo’s bar, calls him “my Spirit” and a friend. Still, I don’t know what that relationship meant. But it certainly means something. 

    For now, the story remains open.

    Part One began with the wrong roll of film. Part Two began with the right man leaving a public comment. 

    The question is no longer whether Prince Mongo knew anyone named in the allegation. Driggers says he did, first at Memphis State and later through the world surrounding Ashlar Hall. He also says they were friends. 

    “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

    —William Faulkner

    Note on reporting: I did not contact Ray Driggers directly. Given his age, the sensitivity of the subject, and my position as an independent researcher, I relied on contemporaneous reporting, public records, and Driggers’s own public statements. Allegations, established facts, and my interpretations are identified separately. 

    Sources and Working References

    1.  “Prominent Planter Sought in Pornography Case,” The Memphis Press-Scimitar, April 1, 1980, p. 15
    2.  “Three Plead Guilty in Sex Case,” The Commercial Appeal, March 28, 1981, p. 3:
    3.  Public Facebook allegation linking Prince Mongo to Winsor Stockton and Ray Driggers, preserved in the author’s Prince Mongo research notes and captured before publication of Part One
    4.  Profile of Coco, Robert Hodges and Taman Aseff, The Memphis Press-Scimitar, March 5, 1969, p. 11
    5.  Coverage of Winsor Stockton, the Memphis Boys Town and Shelby County Juvenile Court, The Jackson Sun, April 2, 1980, p. 9
    6.  Marvin Ray Driggers, public Facebook comment beneath “Just heard that Prince Mongo has passed. Any truth to this?”, Things That Aren’t in the Memphis Area Anymore, captured August 17, 2026
    7.  Marvin Ray Driggers, public Facebook comment about Ashlar Hall, captured August 17, 2026:
    8.  Marvin Ray Driggers, public Facebook condolence comment on Prince Mongo’s death, captured August 17, 2026; screenshot supplied with the author’s research files.
    9.  Reporting on the 1993 sale of Ashlar Hall to Bernard Hodges and the Hodges family’s operation of the property, The Commercial Appeal, December 10, 1993, p. 22:
    10.  Memphis State University Faculty-Staff-Student Telephone Directory, 1967-1968
    11.  DeSoto (Memphis State University yearbook), 1969, undergraduate index and Kappa Sigma Epsilon Pi chapter roster, pp. 320-21 and 367,
    12.  “Campus Spirits Sag—Temporarily—Under Slow Grind of Exams,” The Commercial Appeal, May 19, 1968, sec. 5, p. 6; article supplied with the author’s research files.
    13.  “Dress Rehearsal,” photograph caption identifying Memphis State cheerleaders, The Memphis Press-Scimitar, September 19, 1969, second sec., p. 11; article supplied with the author’s research files.
    14.  Reporting on Marvin Ray Driggers during the Memphis-Marks investigation, The Commercial Appeal, July 28, 1980, p. 13
    15.  Steve Kelley, “New Westside Story,” The Memphis Press-Scimitar, December 3, 1974, p. 17; article and team photograph supplied with the author’s research files.
    16.  Larry Rea, “Driggers’ Power of Positive Thinking Gets Results,” The Commercial Appeal, November 8, 1975, p. 30; article supplied with the author’s research files.
    17.  Larry Rea, “Melrose, Treadwell Rely on Team Efforts,” in “MCAA Cage Race Will Be Tight,” The Commercial Appeal, November 28, 1976, sec. D, p. 3; article supplied with the author’s research files.
    18.  Jimmie Covington, “Oakhaven Students Visit School Chief To Protest,” The Commercial Appeal, November 30, 1977, p. 46; article supplied with the author’s research files.
    19.  “MEA To Study Shift Of Coach,” The Commercial Appeal, December 3, 1977, p. 4; article supplied with the author’s research files.
    20.  “Oakhaven Booster Chairman Resigns Over Coach’s Change,” The Memphis Press-Scimitar, December 6, 1977, p. 13; article supplied with the author’s research files.
    21.  Report on Marvin Ray Driggers’s arrest during the Memphis teachers’ strike, October 13, 1978
    22.  Recollection by a former Tiger Rag business manager concerning Dallion Et Rae’s 1967–68 advertising contract, preserved in the user’s Prince Mongo research notes: https://csnbbs.com/thread-197459-post-2052389.html
    23.  “MSU Welcomes Local and National Guests,” DeSoto (Memphis State University yearbook), 1980, pp. 30-31:
    24. Federal-court report stating that Hodges was described as a Columbia University graduate and former New York import-export businessman, The Memphis Press-Scimitar, April 5, 1980, p. 7
    25.  Neighborhood report concerning Robert Hodges’s Eastmoreland property, The Memphis Press-Scimitar, November 26, 1975, p. 17:
    26.  Jerome Wright, “Suspect Is Called Friend of Youths,” The Commercial Appeal, April 2, 1980, p. 15
    27.  Pensacola reporting concerning the 1991 arrest of Joe Eddins Benson Jr., Pensacola News Journal, March 5-6, 1991, pp. 7 and 12
    28.  Follow-up on the Florida disposition of Benson’s case, Pensacola News Journal, July 23, 1991, p. 9
    29.  Obituary of Dorothy Ware Benson, The Clarksdale Press Register, June 27, 2000, p. 2
    30. DeSoto (Memphis State University yearbook), 1969, Kappa Sigma Epsilon Pi chapter roster, pp. 321
    31. “Prince Mongo of the Planet Zambodia” Inside Report, 1990 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nk6Pl3Fb8aU&t=9s

  • The Wrong Roll of Film: Prince Mongo and the Memphis–Marks Child-Trafficking Ring

    The Wrong Roll of Film: Prince Mongo and the Memphis–Marks Child-Trafficking Ring

    While researching Prince Mongo—and trying to determine whether my suspicions about him had any factual foundation—I came across a public Facebook comment linking him to two men I had never heard of: Winsor Stockton and Ray Driggers. The commenter wrote:

    “Little known fact about ole Prince Mongo . He
    had a insatiable appetite for young boys to the
    point he was nearly rounded up with Windsor
    Stockton and Ray Driggers down in Mississippi
    for transporting boys from 7-15 years old.
    Prince Mongos awesome speedboat pulled
    them right in. He had money so he testified
    against the others. He went on to have some of
    the best clubs that catered heavily to the
    underage .! He is such a great person. All these
    facts are readily available.
    He literally love’s little boys !”

    I contacted the person who posted it, hoping to learn how they knew those names and what evidence—if any—supported the allegation. I sent that message the night before Prince Mongo died.

    The comment was not proof. But buried inside it were two unusually specific names.

    Winsor Stockton and Ray Driggers were not invented characters from an internet rumor. Both were real men prosecuted in a child-exploitation case uncovered in 1980—a case involving boys, pornography, a wealthy Mississippi planter and a barred farmhouse outside Marks.

    Whether Prince Mongo belonged anywhere near that story remained unanswered. But to understand what the allegation might have been pointing toward, I first had to understand the case itself.

    Allegation against Mongo on Facebook Oct. 2024

    The Memphis–Marks Child Exploitation Ring

    Five miles outside Marks, Mississippi, at the end of a gravel road, stood a dilapidated black farmhouse with heavy, rusted bars across every window.

    Boys came there on weekends.

    Some came from Memphis.

    Others traveled from as far away as Pennsylvania and Florida.

    Most came from single-parent homes—the kind of children easily overlooked, pushed aside, and forgotten. They came from families whose vulnerabilities could be exploited by an adult with money, status, and something to offer.

    Joe Benson was the son of a successful cotton and soybean farmer in Marks. He lived on his own 262-acre farm and also managed his father’s 243-acre property. 

    Joe’s father, Joseph Benson Sr., was a deacon at Marks First Baptist Church. His parents were said to be good people—members of one of the finest families in town. Joe himself sang in the church choir. He had been an honor student in high school and was selected “Most Dignified” by his graduating class in 1963.

    Benson attended the University of Mississippi. He remained unmarried and appeared occupied with farm life. He was capable of handling the family business, but his interests extended beyond cultivating cotton.. He had gone to college. He dressed well. He took up photography and even found part-time work with the local police and sheriff’s departments, photographing evidence in cases involving abused children.

    Benson was nice. People could not say otherwise.

    But they noticed him arriving at bars with young boys, some of whom appeared to be under the influence of narcotics. Neighbors began talking. Suspicions about Benson’s farm had been mounting for years. One local housewife said she had warned her children to stay away from him. Just what was going on in that black farmhouse? 

    The townspeople believed something was wrong, but they could not prove it. Benson belonged to a prominent family. His father was a church deacon. So they kept quiet.

    And the boys kept coming.

    Not just one or two, but groups of them. [1][2]

    The Wrong Roll of Film

    Then, in March 1980, a single fatal mistake placed Benson’s quiet farm life beneath a national spotlight. Someone dropped off a roll of film at Fox Photo in Memphis. The employees developed it as they would any other roll.

    What appeared in those photographs exposed what had been happening in Benson’s farm: boys between the ages of seven and fifteen being sexually abused—not only by Benson, but by several adult men.

    A horrified employee called the police. The photographs were turned over to investigators, and the workers identified the customer who had dropped off the film: a local man named Winsor Stockton

    Stockton had apparently mixed up his film and taken the wrong roll to the lab.

    Memphis police detained him for questioning on March 24 but initially released him. [4][14][15]

    Stockton lived alone in an apartment in Parkway Village and was known to local youths as “Bozo”—a name he even used in the Memphis telephone directory. Neighbors recalled a steady stream of visitors to his apartment. Some were adults; others appeared to be teenagers.

    As the investigation widened, police identified another man connected to the photographs: James Woodrow Smith. Originally from Memphis and Crystal Springs, Mississippi, Smith had lived in California for several years and worked as a photographer and film developer. Investigators believed he had helped process the images and may have been the intended recipient of Stockton’s film in Burbank. 

    When officers arrived at his home on March 25, they found Smith dead in his garage from a shotgun wound to the head.

    Police confirmed that Smith was known to be a gay man and had worked professionally as a photographer and film developer. His death was ruled a suicide. Smith apparently left a note but did not indicate the reason for his suicide. [5][14] 

    Winsor Stockton remained free while police continued their investigation. But this was not his first encounter with law enforcement. In 1974, he pleaded guilty to possession of a controlled substance with intent to sell. He was fined and sentenced to one year in the state penitentiary. [6]

    Stockton had not always been under police scrutiny. In 1960, while still in high school, he worked as a recreation counselor at Memphis Boys Town, where his father, Joe Stockton, served as executive director.

    Winsor Stockton Memphis State University – 1966

    Joe Stockton resigned from Boys Town in 1962 and later became executive director of Tennessee Youth Town in Jackson. Winsor Stockton himself had no known association with Youth Town.

    However Winsor later worked for four years as a probation counselor with the Shelby County Juvenile Court—a position that placed him in direct contact with troubled and vulnerable young people. Juvenile Court officials said he was fired in June 1969 for “unsatisfactory performance.” [14]

    During investigations over the developed film, Police learned that at least one child—a 13-year-old boy from Senatobia, Mississippi—had been brought to Memphis and sexually abused. The incident resulted in an aggravated rape charge against Stockton. [4][14]

    One more man would be exposed in the investigation, Marvin Ray Driggers. Driggers was a High School teacher who had gotten in trouble with authorities in 1978 for blocking an entrance into a high school during a strike. He was arrested for disorderly conduct. 

    Before his arrest, Driggers wrote a letter to Buntyn Presbyterian Church declaring his innocence and requesting the congregation’s prayers. He instructed the pastor, Rev. J. W. Campbell, not to read it unless he was arrested. The letter claimed he is innocent and would never do what was alleged. Driggers was a member and former youth director of the church. [7][8] 

    The Farmhouse Raid

    On March 26, investigators from Memphis and Mississippi executed a search warrant at Benson’s farm. Inside the house, they found film-processing equipment, undeveloped film, photographs, and other evidence. According to Memphis police legal adviser Clyde Keenan, items recovered during the search confirmed that the farmhouse was the location depicted in the photographs.

    The search also helped reveal how the boys had been drawn into the men’s orbit. Investigators did not attribute every gift to a particular man, but they described a pattern involving money, expensive possessions, and trips. “Some of the kids got such things as motorcycles, bicycles, go-carts and cash,” Keenan said. “One kid got a brand new Jeep.” Residents said Benson paid for one boy’s education, while other photographs showed boys with Stockton or Smith on an unidentified beach and at either Disneyland or Disney World.

    Keenan said the boys did not tell their parents about the gifts or the activity that followed. Other reporting, however, indicated that investigators had evidence suggesting some parents knew what was happening. Whatever the extent of that knowledge, the secret was not completely contained. Rumors had circulated for years among both youths and adults near Marks. Investigators believed the operation had continued for approximately five years, with some boys brought to the farm from as far away as Philadelphia.. [2][4][15]

    Several of the children pictured in the photographs were identified and interviewed.

    But Benson was nowhere to be found.

    Benson went on the run

    Quitman County Prosecutor Larry O. Lewis did not issue a warrant for Benson’s arrest until April 2—a full week after the farmhouse had been searched. By then, residents were already saying that Benson had fled Marks.

    Sheriff George J. “Jack” Harrison attempted to serve the warrant but claimed he could not locate him. “He’s not here,” Harrison told a reporter. “If we can’t find him, we can’t find him.” A statement that clearly showed a lack of enthusiasm for tracking down Benson. 

    Another member of the sheriff’s department appeared equally unconcerned. “I don’t think he’s gone nowhere,” the official said.

    Harrison nevertheless insisted that Benson would be arrested quickly now that a warrant had finally been issued. He was wrong. Benson remained missing. [1]

    A Wall of Silence

    By late July, a Quitman County grand jury had indicted Benson, Stockton, and Driggers. Stockton and Driggers were held in the Memphis City Jail on $20,000 bond each, awaiting proceedings on Mississippi warrants accusing them of “unnatural sexual intercourse.”

    Stockton was also facing separate Tennessee charges of using minors for obscene purposes and aggravated rape. He had been released on bond in that case when authorities arrested him on the Quitman County indictment. Driggers, still identified in the press as a high-school teacher, had not been charged in Tennessee.

    Benson, meanwhile, had been missing since March.

    As the case widened, a wall of silence went up around it. Quitman County prosecutors instructed relatives and law-enforcement officials not to discuss the investigation publicly.

    “He told us not to talk about it,” Harrison said, referring to District Attorney Sam Knowlton. According to Harrison, Knowlton had ordered him not to speak to the press—or anyone else—and said he would handle all public statements himself.

    When reporters approached Knowlton, however, he refused to discuss the case.

    “I have nothing to say about it,” he said. “Nothing.” [8][9]

    The Missing Federal Warrant

    The FBI was monitoring the investigation because the alleged operation crossed state lines. Boys had reportedly traveled to the farm from Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Florida, and elsewhere. Smith had lived in California, and investigators believed photographs taken in Mississippi had been sent there for processing.

    Federal officials eventually expressed surprise that Quitman County authorities had not requested a federal warrant charging Benson with unlawful interstate flight to avoid prosecution. They explained that local authorities would ordinarily seek such a warrant after a fugitive had remained at large for seven to ten days.

    Benson had been gone for weeks.

    Harrison and Quitman County Attorney Larry O. Lewis denied that political considerations had delayed the effort to arrest him. But the newspapers noted an uncomfortable connection: Benson’s father was a wealthy and influential Marks landowner who had supported Sheriff Harrison’s campaign for reelection.

    That did not prove Harrison had protected Benson. But the missing suspect, the delayed local warrant, the failure to request federal assistance, and Harrison’s dismissive response gave the FBI ample reason to examine how the case was being handled.

    And by then, federal authorities already had problems with Sheriff Harrison. [10]

    The Sheriff Gets Arrested

    While Joe Benson remained a fugitive, the sheriff responsible for helping find him was arrested by federal marshals.

    That sheriff was George J. “Jack” Harrison, and his position in the Benson investigation was already politically uncomfortable. Benson’s father was a wealthy and influential Marks landowner who had supported Harrison’s campaign for reelection.

    The federal indictment did not concern Benson. It involved Harrison’s alleged treatment of Leon Wynn, a burglary suspect confined in the Quitman County Jail. Harrison was charged with conspiracy, civil-rights violations, and obstruction of federal officers.

    According to the indictment, Harrison repeatedly beat Wynn and threatened to castrate him. Prosecutors alleged that he slashed the front of Wynn’s trousers with a knife to emphasize the threat, then removed him from a Marks hospital where he was receiving treatment for injuries allegedly sustained in custody.

    The Justice Department further accused Harrison of coercing Wynn and other witnesses into lying to the FBI. Wynn initially claimed that his injuries came from falling down a flight of stairs—an explanation officials said Harrison had coached him to give. Marks constable Earnest L. Cook was also indicted for allegedly assisting Harrison.

    Harrison was not accused of helping Benson flee. But the circumstances were difficult to ignore. The sheriff responsible for pursuing a fugitive whose influential father had supported his reelection now stood accused, in another case, of coercing a vulnerable prisoner, manufacturing an innocent explanation, recruiting others into the lie, and obstructing federal investigators.

    Benson was still on the run.

    The sheriff responsible for finding him was now in federal custody. [10]

    Someone Told the FBI Where to Find Benson

    The search for Joe Benson did not end at an airport, a border crossing, or some distant hideout.

    It ended at the Rivermont, a prominent riverfront hotel in downtown Memphis. 

    In early August 1980, the FBI’s Memphis office received a telephone call from agents in Jackson, Mississippi. They had information that Benson would be arriving at the Holiday Inn-Rivermont.

    The newspapers never revealed where that information came from. But this was not a random hotel search. The agents knew the specific hotel Benson intended to visit—and apparently knew when he would be there.

    Someone had talked.

    It may have been a friend, a relative, a former associate, or someone connected to the hotel. It is also possible that Benson had been under surveillance. Whatever the source, someone knew enough about his movements to place FBI agents at the hotel before he arrived.

    Agents from Memphis and Jackson went to the Holiday Inn and waited.

    Benson appeared around noon. Officials believed he intended to check into the hotel, but he never got the chance. FBI agents arrested him without incident before he could complete his registration.

    After more than four months as a fugitive, the wealthy farmer from Marks had resurfaced less than one hundred miles from his farm—in the same city where the wrong roll of film had exposed the operation.

    Benson refused to make a statement.

    He was brought before the U.S. District Judge Harry W. Wellford on a federal fugitive warrant charging him with interstate flight to avoid prosecution. Wellford ordered him transferred to Memphis police, who turned him over to Quitman County authorities later that afternoon.

    Benson now faced the Mississippi indictment from which he had allegedly fled. Reports described the charges as unnatural intercourse, sodomy, and the exploitation of children.

    By then, the investigation had stretched across several states and involved Memphis police, the FBI, Mississippi authorities, California investigators, and the Burbank Police Department. Stockton and Driggers had already been arrested. James Woodrow Smith was dead.

    Benson had been the last man missing.

    The FBI said his capture did not end the investigation. Authorities believed the operation had distributed illicit material across state lines, from California to Florida. Detectives had identified at least a dozen boys between the ages of seven and fifteen, while other reports indicated that children had been brought to the farm from as far away as Pennsylvania and Florida.

    For four months, Benson’s location had supposedly been unknown.

    Then a telephone rang in the Memphis FBI office.

    Someone knew exactly where he was going. [3][11]

    The Case is Closed

    In March 1981, legal proceedings against the three men had “come to an end.” All three had pleaded guilty.

    Marvin Ray Driggers pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit unnatural intercourse and received five years in prison. Judge Smith suspended the final two years. He was forbidden from associating with minors while on probation.

    Winsor Stockton pleaded guilty to one charge of unnatural intercourse and was sentenced to ten years in prison. As a condition of his probation following incarceration, he was also prohibited from associating with males under eighteen.

    Joe Eddins “Ed” Benson Jr. pleaded guilty to two charges of unnatural intercourse and one charge of conspiracy to commit unnatural intercourse, receiving ten years for each sexual offense and five years for conspiracy. Judge Smith suspended one of the ten-year sentences and placed Benson on ten years of probation, while ordering the five-year conspiracy sentence to run concurrently with the remaining ten-year term. Benson therefore faced one active ten-year prison sentence, followed by ten years of probation. [12][13]

    After detailing the guilty pleas and sentences, The Commercial Appeal ended its report with a remarkable admission:

    “Although there still are Quitman County indictments pending against all three men, sources said those charges would probably be retired to the files.” [13] A Quitman County grand jury had returned further indictments against Benson, Stockton, and Driggers. Yet sources expected those charges to be shelved without prosecution. The surviving article does not identify the acts covered by the remaining indictments.

    The legal proceedings had “come to an end” not because every charge had been resolved, but because authorities had apparently decided that the convictions already obtained were enough.

    One roll of film exposed the farmhouse, putting a national spotlight on Benson, Stockton, and Driggers. It revealed an operation involving boys, adult men in multiple states, a Memphis apartment, a black barred farmhouse in Mississippi, and a commercial film laboratory in California.

    But it did not expose everything.

    My investigation into Prince Mongo led me to a public allegation connecting him to Stockton and Driggers. [16]

    The allegation is not proof.

    Still, it was striking that someone remembered two men whose crimes had all but vanished from public memory forty-four years earlier. After reconstructing the Memphis–Marks case, I returned to my Mongo research, now knowing which names, institutions, and dates to look for. I believe I found a potential connection.

    Part Two will examine that possible link. Since Mongo’s death, I have seen growing chatter that newspapers are preparing stories about allegations that he sexually abused boys. For the sake of anyone he may have harmed, I hope those accounts are investigated carefully and brought into the light, victims deserve more than silence.

    Sources

    1. The Commercial Appeal (Memphis), April 3, 1980, p. 13.
    2. The Memphis Press-Scimitar, April 3, 1980, p. 30.
    3. The Clarion-Ledger (Jackson, Mississippi), August 9, 1980.
    4. “Prominent Planter Sought in Pornography Case,” The Memphis Press-Scimitar, April 1, 1980, pp. 1, 13, ; and The Tennessean (Nashville), April 2, 1980, p. 12.
    5. The Jackson Sun, April 2, 1980, p. 9.
    6. The Memphis Press-Scimitar, May 1, 1974, p. 4.
    7. The Memphis Press-Scimitar, October 13, 1978.
    8. William Fuller, The Commercial Appeal (Memphis), July 28, 1980, p. 13.
    9. The Mississippi Press, July 30, 1980, p. 2.
    10. The Memphis Press-Scimitar, April 18, 1980, p. 6.
    11. Hattiesburg American, August 9, 1980, p. 2.; and The Commercial Appeal (Memphis), August 9, 1980, p. 1.
    12. “Ex-Teacher Gets Five Years for Child-Sex Role,” The Memphis Press-Scimitar, March 27, 1981, p. 17.
    13. Sabrina Long, “Porn Charges Net 5-Year Sentence,” The Commercial Appeal (Memphis), March 28, 1981, p. 3.
    14. Jerome Wright, “Suspect Is Called Friend of Youths,” The Commercial Appeal (Memphis), April 2, 1980, p. 15, clipping supplied by the author.
    15. Associated Press, “Child Pornography Arrests Expected,” Bristol Herald Courier, April 3, 1980, clipping supplied by the author.
    16. Public Facebook comment by a Memphis-area resident, screenshot reproduced in this article; copy retained in the author’s files. This citation documents the existence and wording of the allegation, not its truth.