Opinion: Ahead of Lee County Sheriff Race, I Remember My Son

Editorial by Pam Hubbard

On August 15, 2014, my 23-year-old son, Jamie Hubbard, died while in the custody of the Lee County Detention Center. Jamie was a good person who, like many young people, did not always make the best choices. That night, he was serving the first of three weekends for a DUI charge. A friend dropped him off at the detention center after he had spent the afternoon at the pool with friends and had been drinking.

Before he went inside, we later learned he spoke with the owner of AAA Bonding while waiting to be processed. At 3 a.m. on August 16, 2014, my husband and I were notified—by family members, including my nephew who works with the Opelika Police Department, as well as the deputy county coroner—that our son had died in custody.

We were not allowed to see him. We later learned his body had been sent directly from the jail for an autopsy after paramedics were called and found him already deceased. From that point forward, we were given very few concrete answers. Instead, we encountered rumors, speculation, and silence—despite our repeated requests for information.

The autopsy report was vague. Jamie’s clothing was never returned to us, despite multiple requests. We were told surveillance video from that night was with the Cyber Unit, yet we have never been allowed to view it. Individuals who were present at the jail that night reached out to us with troubling details that were never officially shared.

We were informed that Sheriff Jay Jones came to the jail that night. However, to this day, we have never been contacted by him or anyone from the sheriff’s department regarding Jamie’s death. We have lived for years with unanswered questions—questions that could have been addressed with even the most basic communication.

The lack of transparency, the inconsistencies in timelines, the unexplained injuries on our son’s body, and the refusal to communicate have only deepened our concerns. Not a day goes by that I don’t wonder what truly happened to Jamie that night.

We explored pursuing answers through the legal system, but were told it would be difficult to find representation because Jamie entered the facility intoxicated—providing plausible deniability. Initially, we did not place blame on corrections personnel. But as more information surfaced, and as official answers failed to come, it became impossible not to question what we were—and were not—being told.

When I learned that Cam Hunt was running for Lee County Sheriff, I reached out to him. I asked if he could help us find answers about what happened to our son. His request for records related to deaths at the Lee County Jail is part of that effort—an effort to bring transparency where there has been none.

I lost respect for Sheriff Jones years ago when he did not acknowledge the death of our son while in his custody—despite our family’s ties to law enforcement. My husband and I have always supported and respected those who serve and protect. That has never changed.

What has changed is our willingness to speak out.

I don’t know that we will ever have all the answers. But I do know Lee County deserves leadership that is transparent, accountable, and willing to face hard truths. I believe Cam Hunt is that kind of leader.

My name is Pam Hubbard, and my husband and I support Cam Hunt for Lee County Sheriff.