Murder Charge Divides Church
By Julia Oliver
Staff Writer Fayetteville Online
SANFORD -- Two weeks after
Pastor Melvin Bynum was charged with killing his wife, his congregation is still reeling. Fighting and confusion has mixed
with worship at Cry Out Loud Ministries, members said. Some said they are too sad to participate fully in services.
“I went back, but I’m kind of off to myself,” said Dalphine Bynum, who is married to Melvin’s brother.
“There’s a lot that I don’t understand. And I want to keep my distance.”
Marnita Bynum was found strangled in the trunk of her car Aug. 2. She was 40. Less than three weeks later, authorities
charged her husband with the crime. Some congregation members were surprised to hear the pastor had filed for divorce in June.
Marnita was always smiling, they said, and the couple had just returned from a family vacation to Florida the weekend she
was killed.
“I said, ‘God, she’s going through all that and she just didn’t tell nobody,’” said
Claretha Williams. She has attended the small church on Woodland Avenue for 11 years and said Marnita ate at her home three
or four times a week.
Williams and several others said they plan to attend the probable cause hearing today in Rockingham. For many, it’s
to put their disbelief to rest.
“I have to see their facts,” Dalphine Bynum said. “They have to prove it to me either way.”
Moore County Sheriff Lane Carter said he expects the hearing to be continued.
The investigation that led to Melvin Bynum’s arrest spanned three jurisdictions. The couple lived in Moore County,
the church is in Sanford, and Marnita Bynum’s body was found along a Richmond County road. Authorities have disclosed
little about the crime. After Melvin Bynum’s arrest, Richmond County Sheriff Dale Furr said that members of the congregation
were reluctant to cooperate with investigators, either out of loyalty to their pastor or out of fear.
No fear
Church members said no one was afraid of Melvin Bynum. But the day after Marnita’s body was found, they
said, he called a meeting.
“He just basically came in and said that he didn’t want anybody talking to the media,” said Edward Moses,
a member for six years. Melvin Bynum told the group to let assistant pastor Warren Anderson speak for the church, and his
lawyer would speak for him.
Williams said Melvin’s request raised eyebrows.
“I was wondering why he needed a lawyer,” she said.
Jacquelyn Carter, Marnita’s mother, said she will not speak publicly about her daughter’s relationship with
Melvin. She worries that her grandchildren, Brock Lamar, who is 17, and Marquail Lamont, who is 20, might lose a father, too.
She said only that Melvin started the church more than a decade ago with a good heart.
“In a time of need he was there. In a time of help he was there. And then something went bad,” she said, but
would not elaborate. “The snowball, the little sand, became from a little piece of sand coming down the hill, to the
death of my daughter.”
She said she would like people to know how much her daughter loved her family and her church.
“My daughter was beautiful. She lived life beautifully,” Carter said. “She wasn’t supposed to go
like this.”
Bubbly nickname
Congregation members said Marnita, whose bubbly personality had earned her the nickname “Champagne,”
was private about her problems. They described her as an energetic force who ran the women’s auxiliary and occasionally
led a “women’s night out” trip to a restaurant or the movies. She had a good aesthetic sense and loved crafts,
such as making T-shirts with iron-on photographs, her friends said. She had planned to start a Women’s Crisis Center
at the church, a project her mother plans to pick up.
“She said there was a lot of women being battered and they didn’t have nowhere to go,” Williams said.
The pastor and his wife presided over different spheres in the church, members said. Both leaders had “armor-bearers”
-- companions who would accompany them places or carry things for them. Marnita’s armor-bearers would often show her
around Sanford, because she was from Chicago and didn’t know the area well, Williams said. Melvin had one armor-bearer,
who would escort him to the office or carry his books, she said.
“It’s like having a best friend that you can depend on and count on,” said Edward Moses, who had once
trained to be Melvin’s armor-bearer. His girlfriend, Nicole Ortega, once filled that role for Marnita.
Melvin led services, and Marnita spoke after church every third Sunday. She led with a light, open-minded touch, Williams
said, while he took stronger stances and was more exacting.
“She gave everybody a chance to move on different things, whereas if he thought somebody wasn’t qualified or
capable, he wouldn’t put them in that position,” she said. She was the teacher; he was the preacher.
Melvin Bynum would preach against drugs, against “young people fornicating,” and about a man’s place
in the home, Williams said. He would say that “God made man the head and woman was his helpmate,” she said, “and
a man’s supposed to take care of his family.”
While the Bynums’ charisma brought people together for 12 years, Williams said the events of recent weeks have divided
them. “A lot of people’s upset and biting people’s head off for what they said,” she said.
Ousted from church
Carter, Marnita’s mother, said some members of the church have supported her. But others
will not allow her to enter the building or let her have the flowers from the funeral.
“They will not allow me to get my baby’s plants,” she said.
Kim Lytes, a former congregation member, said she was told to leave the church last Sunday.
“I think it’s because I’ve been supporting Miss Jackie (Carter),” she said.
Williams said she is still working through her opinions. For many, two people that the church loved are now gone. And one
they trusted -- and who inspired them -- has been accused of a horrible crime. Williams doesn’t know what to think about
her pastor.
“I really hadn’t made up my mind,” she said. “Because I just can’t believe the way he taught
us and preached to us that he would do something like this.”