Briley Brothers

Former prosecutors Robert J. Rice and Warren Von Schuch had come to speak privately with board member Rudolph C. McCollum Jr., a former Richmond mayor, about a prisoner most people in the city never see and rarely hear named anymore: Duncan Eric Meekins. ^[1]

Decades earlier, Meekins rode with the Briley brothers through one of the most terrifying murder sprees in Richmond history. ^[1][2] Then, at 16, he turned on them. ^[1][3] His testimony helped secure death sentences for Linwood and James “J.B.” Briley and life‑plus terms for their younger brother Anthony. ^[1][2]

For that cooperation, Meekins avoided the death chamber—and entered a different kind of purgatory: a life-plus-100-year sentence, an out‑of‑state prison under an alias, and a parole saga that has stretched on for more than thirty years. ^[1][3]

This is the story of the gang that terrorized Richmond—and the accomplice the justice system can’t quite decide what to do with.

A Warning Shot in 1971

The Briley story starts long before Duncan Meekins ever appeared in a police report.

On January 28, 1971, 16‑year‑old Linwood Earl Briley aimed a rifle out of his bedroom window and fatally shot his neighbor, 57‑year‑old Orline Christian, as she hung laundry. ^[2][3]

A re‑examination of Christian’s body revealed a small‑caliber bullet wound under her armpit. ^[3] A detective used a sheet of plywood with a hole cut in it to determine that the shot had come from the Briley house, and police later found the murder weapon there. ^[3]

Confronted, Linwood admitted the killing and, according to later accounts, brushed off the loss of life by saying, “She would have died soon, anyway,” or that he had heard she had heart problems and “she would have died soon anyway.” ^[2][3]

His lawyer persuaded a judge the shooting was an accident. Linwood was convicted of involuntary manslaughter and sent to reform school for a year. ^[3]

The case—an elderly woman killed for no clear reason, followed by minimal punishment—would later be folded into the victim counts of a much darker chapter. Some lists treat Christian as the first of as many as 13 to 21 victims attributed to the Briley gang, depending on how the murders are counted. ^[3]

A Teenager Falls In With the Brileys

By 1979, Linwood, now in his mid‑20s, was back on Richmond’s streets with his brothers James and Anthony. ^[3]

Together with a teenage accomplice, 16‑year‑old Duncan Eric Meekins, they embarked on what investigators would later describe as a seven‑month series of largely random murders, rapes, and robberies across Richmond and nearby Henrico County. ^[1][2][3]

Contemporary accounts in Richmond placed the 1979 death toll at “at least 11” in the city and county. ^[1][4] Other summaries would later argue the true number was higher—“at least 11” and possibly as many as 20 victims, particularly if Christian’s 1971 killing and other suspected crimes were included. ^[2][3]

However the numbers are sliced, the spree left a tight radius of neighborhoods traumatized and put Meekins at the center of a case that would define his life.

The Rampage Across Richmond

The Ones Who Got Away

The first known stop on the 1979 spree came on March 12, when the Brileys targeted William and Virginia Bucher at their Henrico County home. ^[3][5]

Linwood knocked on their door, claiming car trouble, and forced his way inside, where the brothers tied up and robbed the couple. ^[3] They doused rooms with kerosene and tossed a lit match before leaving the Buchers to die, but the couple managed to free themselves and escape before fire engulfed the house. ^[3][5]

The Buchers survived—and would later be remembered as the only would‑be murder victims to escape the Briley rampage. ^[3]

Michael McDuffie and Edric Clark

Nine days later, on March 21, 20‑year‑old vending machine serviceman Michael W. McDuffie was abducted in Henrico County. ^[3][5] Linwood and Anthony Briley robbed him in his own car, and Linwood shot him dead, leaving his body inside the vehicle. ^[5]

On March 31, 28‑year‑old Edric Alvin Clark was shot and killed at his East End home. ^[3][5] Linwood pulled the trigger during a drug dispute that also involved Duncan Meekins. ^[3][5]

Mary Gowen: An Elderly Woman Targeted

On April 9, 76‑year‑old Mary W. Gowen was on her way home from a babysitting job when the violence caught up to her. ^[3]

In Richmond’s West End, Linwood Briley and Duncan Meekins robbed her in front of her apartment building. ^[5] Linwood then raped and fatally shot her; Anthony was present during the attack. ^[5]

The killing of a woman in her seventies, returning from caring for children, underscored how indiscriminate the Brileys’ targets had become.

Christopher Phillips: A Teenager With the Wrong Car

On July 3, the gang’s rage turned on 17‑year‑old Christopher M. Phillips after they saw him tampering with Linwood’s car on Richmond’s North Side. ^[3][5]

Linwood and Anthony Briley and Duncan Meekins beat Phillips. ^[5] Then Linwood struck him in the head with a piece of concrete, killing him. ^[5]

Johnny “G” Gallaher and the Turquoise Ring

In September, the city’s nightlife was no refuge.

On September 14, popular disc jockey John Harvey “Johnny G.” Gallaher was abducted outside a South Richmond nightclub and driven to Mayo Island on the James River. ^[3][5]

There, the Brileys robbed him, and Linwood shot him in the back or at point‑blank range in the head; his body was dumped into the river. ^[2][3][5] He had only $6 and a distinctive turquoise ring on him. ^[2]

The ring would eventually give him a posthumous voice. Months later, when Linwood was brought in for questioning on another crime, a detective friend of Gallaher noticed the same turquoise ring on Linwood’s finger. ^[2][3] That link helped tie Linwood to Gallaher’s killing. ^[2][4]

Mary Wilfong, Blanche Page, and Charles Garner

On September 30, nurse Mary S. Wilfong, 62, was beaten to death with a baseball bat outside her apartment in Henrico County, and her apartment was robbed. ^[3][5] Linwood wielded the bat, and Meekins and James and Anthony Briley accompanied him. ^[5]

Less than a week later, on October 6, the brutality escalated. ^[3][5]

At a North Side residence, 75‑year‑old Blanche I. Page was beaten to death with a pipe, and her boarder, 59‑year‑old Charles W. Garner, was fatally assaulted. ^[3][5] Garner was stabbed with multiple weapons—knives, scissors, a fork—and his body was set on fire, a combination of attacks later singled out in accounts of the spree. ^[2][3]

Thomas Saunders

On October 14, Linwood and James Briley and Duncan Meekins visited 32‑year‑old Thomas Saunders. ^[3] A fight broke out, and Meekins shot Saunders dead. ^[3][5]

By then, a pattern was difficult to ignore: Linwood and James emerging as leaders, Anthony and Meekins orbiting them in roles that varied from lookout to attacker to triggerman.

The Wilkerson Home Murders

The spree’s final crime became its most infamous.

On October 19, 1979, Linwood, James and Anthony Briley and Duncan Meekins went to the North Side home of 26‑year‑old Harvey Wilkerson, where he lived with his common‑law wife, 23‑year‑old Judy Diane Barton—eight months pregnant—and their 5‑year‑old son, Harvey Wayne Barton. ^[1][3][5]

Inside the house, the gang pillaged Wilkerson’s home. ^[5] Several members raped Judy Barton. ^[1][5] Later accounts specify that Linwood raped her in the kitchen and that Meekins continued the assault. ^[3]

As the attack ended, the killers methodically eliminated witnesses. Prosecutors and later summaries agree that Meekins shot Harvey Wilkerson in the head. ^[1][3][5] James Briley then shot Judy Barton and her 5‑year‑old son Harvey Wayne, killing them both. ^[1][3][5]

The bodies of the family were not discovered for three days. ^[3]

Some later accounts have shifted details of who did what first in the Wilkerson house, but over time, official narratives have consistently placed Meekins as both one of Judy Barton’s rapists and the gunman who killed Wilkerson. ^[1][3][5]

For Richmond, the murder of a young family—including a pregnant woman and a small child—marked the end of what one UPI report described as a year in which the Briley gang was “linked to 11 killings in the Richmond area.” ^[1][4][6]

Closing In: Surveillance, Arrests, and a Teenage Turncoat

By the time of the Wilkerson killings, police had begun to piece the pattern together. Authorities had been watching the Briley brothers and their accomplices and, in the days after the October murders, they moved. ^[2]

On October 22, 1979, officers arrested Linwood, James and Anthony Briley and Duncan Meekins. ^[4][5] Meekins was 16 years old. ^[1]

During interrogation, the teenager made the decision that would define the rest of his life.

He accepted a plea agreement, turned state’s evidence against the Brileys, and provided investigators with a full detailing of the crime spree. ^[3] Under the deal, he escaped the death penalty and was to be incarcerated under an alias at an out‑of‑state prison, away from the brothers. ^[3]

In court, Duncan Eric Meekins testified against the Briley brothers. ^[2] Prosecutors later said his testimony led directly to the convictions of all three. ^[1]

Virginia’s “triggerman statute” meant that only those who personally carried out killings could face capital charges, even within a murderous conspiracy. ^[3] Linwood and James, who had personally shot multiple victims, drew the harshest penalties.

Linwood was eventually convicted of capital murder and other counts, including the abduction and murder of Johnny “G” Gallaher, and sentenced to death. ^[3] James received two death sentences, one for Judy Barton and one for her 5‑year‑old son. ^[3]

Anthony Briley, whose role prosecutors characterized as more limited, was convicted of first‑degree murder and related charges. ^[3] He received a life term plus 119 or more years, with the possibility of parole, though in practice every application has been denied. ^[1][3]

Duncan Meekins, the youngest member of the gang and now the state’s star witness, avoided the electric chair—but he did not walk away free.

Life Plus 100 Years, Under an Alias

In exchange for his cooperation, Meekins received a lengthy prison sentence.

A Richmond account states he is serving “life plus 100 years” for killing Harvey W. Wilkerson and for his role in two other murders and two robberies. ^[1] Other public records have listed his punishment as life plus 80 years or as a life term with specific parole‑eligibility language, but all agree it was a “life‑plus” sentence that would keep him confined well past a normal lifespan unless the parole board intervened. ^[3]

Under the plea agreement, Meekins was incarcerated under an alias at an out‑of‑state facility for his protection, separated from the Briley brothers. ^[1][3]

By the time he surfaced in Richmond headlines again, he had been in prison for nearly thirty years and was 45 years old. ^[1] Prosecutors Rice and Von Schuch would later note that Meekins’ only known infraction behind bars was an attempt to make a three‑way phone call, describing his prison behavior as good. ^[1]

Even from hundreds of miles away, though, the shadow of the Briley name loomed over his case—reinforced by what happened next to his former co‑defendants.

“Escape‑Proof” Mecklenburg and the Death Row Breakout

After their capital sentences, Linwood and James Briley were sent to death row at Mecklenburg Correctional Center near Boydton in early 1980. ^[2][3]

Mecklenburg had opened in 1976, a $20 million facility touted as “escape‑proof.” ^[2] It would not live up to that billing.

On May 31, 1984, six condemned men, led by James and Linwood Briley, pulled off what would be described as the largest escape of death row inmates in U.S. history. ^[2][4]

Over a period of months, they had scrutinized guards, learning their shifts, habits, and even clothing sizes. ^[2][7] Accounts based in part on the diary of fellow inmate Dennis Stockton describe corrupt or frightened staff helping them obtain weapons, phone codes, and a layout of the prison. ^[2]

On the appointed day, the inmates took over the death row unit, commandeered a prison van, and conned officials into opening the gates by placing a portable TV on a stretcher, covering it with a blanket, and pretending it was a bomb being removed from the facility. ^[2][3][7] The entire escape unfolded in under two hours. ^[2]

It took prison officials roughly half an hour to realize the men were gone. ^[2]

The breakout—broadcast across the region—sparked fear in communities already haunted by memories of the Briley murders. Reports from the time described residents too frightened to leave their homes. ^[2]

The manhunt, though, was relentless.

Earl Clanton and Derrick Peterson were recaptured a day after the escape. ^[2] A few days later, fellow escapees Lem Tuggle and Willie Lloyd Turner made it as far as Vermont before Tuggle’s attempted jewelry store robbery led to their arrests. ^[2][3]

For nearly three weeks, the Briley brothers remained at large. ^[2][3][6] They were finally tracked to Philadelphia, where police and FBI agents found them barbecuing chicken. ^[2][3] All six escapees were eventually returned to custody. ^[6][8]

An internal review later concluded that sloppiness among prison staff had made the escape possible, and security procedures were tightened. ^[2]

For the Brileys, there was no second reprieve.

The Electric Chair

On October 12, 1984, Linwood Briley was executed in the electric chair at the Virginia State Penitentiary in Richmond for murdering disc jockey John “Johnny G” Gallaher. ^[3][4][6] He was pronounced dead at 11:05 p.m. after two 55‑second bursts of 2,400 volts of electricity. ^[4]

Witnesses said he maintained his innocence to the end; his attorney recalled that his last words were “I am innocent” and that he insisted he was “not guilty.” ^[3][4][9]

Crowds of roughly 500 demonstrators gathered outside the prison that night, split between supporters and opponents of capital punishment, some cheering, others holding a candlelight vigil. ^[4][6]

Six months later, on April 18, 1985, James D. “J.B.” Briley followed his brother to the chair, condemned for raping a pregnant Richmond woman and murdering her and her 5‑year‑old son—Judy and Harvey Wayne Barton. ^[6][8]

He was pronounced dead at 11:07 p.m. after two 55‑second bursts of 2,300 volts. ^[6] Prison officials said he “just smiled” and made no final statement. ^[6] Outside, about 600 people gathered; officials reported a tense mix of cheering, racial taunts from some pro‑execution demonstrators, and hymns from death‑penalty opponents. ^[6]

A melee inside the prison that morning, in which inmates armed with clubs and screwdrivers tried to take a guard hostage, left nine guards and one inmate injured and was described by officials as an attempt to disrupt the execution. ^[6]

Both brothers died in the same electric chair; Linwood at 30, James at 28. ^[4][6]

Back in an undisclosed out‑of‑state prison, the teenager whose testimony had helped put them there remained alive—and far from free.

The Parole Bargain

From the outset of their work with Meekins, prosecutors Rice and Von Schuch told him that in exchange for his truthful testimony, they would advocate for him when he came up for parole. ^[1] They were careful, they later emphasized, not to promise release. ^[1]

“Had Meekins just been quiet and not cooperated,” Rice would say years later, “then the city of Richmond was going to have a whole lot of problems on their hands.” ^[1] He and Von Schuch also argued that without Meekins’ testimony, they would not have secured two capital‑murder convictions. ^[1]

At the same time, they did not minimize his role. In a Richmond account, the two men state that Meekins killed another man for which he was never prosecuted, beyond the murders already in his charges, underscoring that they saw him as both crucial witness and multiple killer. ^[1]

By the early 1990s, after more than a decade behind bars, Meekins began appearing regularly before the Virginia Parole Board. His applications for release were denied again and again—at least six times between 1993 and the early 2000s, according to board records and reporting. ^[1] Later summaries of the case would note that his parole bids continued to be rejected despite recommendations from Rice and Von Schuch. ^[3]

The process itself is rigid: five governor‑appointed members sit on the Virginia Parole Board, and four of the five must agree to release him. ^[1] Members vote electronically, one after another. ^[1]

By the time Rice and Von Schuch mounted one of their early campaigns on his behalf, Meekins had spent nearly three decades behind bars, almost all of his adult life. ^[1]

The Families Who Never Forgot

For some of the people left behind by the 1979 murders, the idea of Meekins ever breathing free air is intolerable.

Harvey W. Wilkerson’s nephew, Robert Jones, contacted the parole board to oppose Meekins’ release and said he was outraged that anyone would speak on the killer’s behalf. ^[1] Jones, a 43‑year‑old Texas resident who had been living in New York at the time of the murders, said he frequently visited the Wilkerson home and had planned to stop by two days before the family was killed. ^[1]

He stayed home with tonsillitis instead and later told a reporter he believed that decision saved his life. ^[1]

For Jones and others, Meekins is not the teenager who helped bring down the Brileys. He is the man who, by his own plea and in the eyes of the court, raped Judy Barton and shot Harvey Wilkerson in the head. ^[1]

Their voices form the counterweight to Rice and Von Schuch’s argument that Meekins’ cooperation may have stopped the Briley gang from killing even more people in Richmond and Henrico County. ^[1]

August 6, 2026: Back to Richmond

On August 6, 2026, Rice and Von Schuch returned again to Richmond, this time for a closed‑door meeting with Virginia Parole Board member Rudolph C. McCollum Jr. at the board’s offices. ^[1]

Each prosecutor spent about thirty minutes with McCollum, making the case that the now‑aging inmate they had once charged and flipped had earned a chance at parole. ^[1] McCollum later said he believed they advocated “with great integrity and great passion and great competency.” ^[1]

Meekins remains housed in an out‑of‑state facility, under an alias for his protection, as the board deliberates. ^[1][3] Four of the five members must cast electronic votes in favor of his release for him to go free. ^[1]

Outside that process, the case draws more interest than most, McCollum has acknowledged, even as he insists the board follows the same procedures it does for any prisoner. ^[1]

The Unfinished Sentence

Nearly half a century has passed since a teenage boy in Richmond joined three brothers on what one New York account summarized as a killing spree that left “at least 11 people, and some believe as many as 20” dead. ^[1][2][4]

Linwood and J.B. Briley went to the electric chair after escaping from a prison once marketed as escape‑proof. ^[2][4][6] Anthony Briley is serving life plus more than a century and has been denied parole repeatedly. ^[1][3]

Duncan Eric Meekins, the teenage accomplice who turned witness, is the one major player whose fate is still actively being argued in boardrooms and in the homes of victims’ families.

He is, at once, a sentenced killer whose bullets and actions helped erase an elderly woman, a teenage boy, and a young father; a state’s witness without whom two of Virginia’s most notorious death sentences might never have been handed down; and a middle‑aged man whose only known prison infraction in nearly three decades was a prohibited phone call. ^[1]

The parole board has to decide which of those truths matters most.