Editing Lyman Bostock (section)

=== Aftermath and trial===
Smith was tried twice for murder, with his lawyers arguing that Barbara Smith's alleged infidelity had driven him insane. The first trial resulted in a [[hung jury]]. In the second trial, Smith was found [[insanity defense|not guilty by reason of insanity]], and committed for treatment to [[Logansport State Hospital]]. Within seven months, he was deemed no longer [[mentally ill]] by his psychiatrists and released. Including his time in jail awaiting and during trial, Smith's time in custody amounted to 21 months. In the aftermath of Smith's case, the legislature in Indiana changed the state's insanity laws. After the change, a person found to be insane at the time of the commission of a crime could still be found legally guilty, and thus could be sent to prison if and when he or she was released from psychiatric treatment.

Leonard Smith returned to Gary, Indiana, where he resided for the remainder of his life, moving in his later years in a high-rise apartment building for senior citizens.  After his 1980 release from custody, he never again ran afoul of the law and he declined all requests to comment publicly about the killing of Bostock. In 2010, Smith died of natural causes at the age of 64.<ref>[[Social Security Death Index]], [https://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.1.1/JBNX-9Q7 Record for Leonard Smith of Gary, Indiana].  Retrieved on August 4, 2012.{{Dead link|date=December 2024}}</ref>

Bostock is interred in the [[Inglewood Park Cemetery]] in [[Inglewood, California]].  "There were never enough hours in the day for Lyman," said Angels teammate [[Bobby Grich]]. "We called him 'Jibber-Jabber' because he was always talking.  Everyone was crazy about him because he was so outgoing and friendly, always up, always looking on the bright side."<ref name="sabr.org"/>

Said Twins teammate [[Rod Carew]]: “Lyman Bostock was my teammate on the Twins for three years. I knew he was very close to an uncle who lived in Gary, Indiana. Lyman often visited him after games against the White Sox. How senseless. How horrible. I still can’t believe it happened. Everyone really liked Lyman. When we played the Angels [in 1978], he sent the batboy over to me with a newspaper (''[[Sporting News|The Sporting News]]'') photograph of himself wearing sunglasses with dollar signs on the lenses. Above the picture Lyman had written, Rod, I need help. His average was around .200. So I watched him in the game. I noticed he was lunging at pitches. He was too anxious. His swing wasn’t smooth, as it normally is. I told him I thought he was trying to hit the ball into “holes” between fielders instead of swinging with the pitch. No one can manipulate a bat so well that he can consistently hit the ball into holes. I don't know if I helped or not, but Lyman picked up and was batting .296 when he died.<ref name="thegruelingtruth.com">{{Cite web|title=The Inspiring Life and Tragic Death of Lyman Bostock|url=https://thegruelingtruth.com/baseball/inspiring-life-tragic-death-lyman-bostock/|last=Goodpaster|first=Mike|date=2019-04-29|website=The Grueling Truth|language=en-US|access-date=2020-05-07}}</ref>

In his eulogy at the funeral of Bostock, Angels teammate [[Ken Brett]] said, "We called him Jibber Jabber because he enlivened every clubhouse scene, chasing tension, drawing laughter in the darkest hour of defeat. When winning wasn’t in the plan, Lyman knew the sun would come up the next morning…. There’s only one consolation: We’re all better persons for having him touch our lives."<ref name="thegruelingtruth.com"/>