June 27


WASHINGTON:

Sentencing Decision's Reach Is Far and Wide


In March, at the sentencing hearing after his conviction in a financial
fraud case, Jamie Olis broke into tears when he heard his fate. Under the
federal sentencing guidelines, which penalize defendants who choose to go
to trial and can sharply increase sentences based on factors like the
financial losses involved, a federal judge in Houston sentenced Mr. Olis,
a 38-year-old midlevel executive with an infant daughter, to 24 years in
prison.

On Thursday, in striking down Washington State's sentencing law, the
Supreme Court almost certainly also doomed the federal guidelines that
generated Mr. Olis's sentence and hundreds of thousands like it.

That means Mr. Olis, who has started serving his sentence while the courts
consider his appeals, may be entitled to a much shorter prison term. In
light of the decision, said Frank O. Bowman, an author of a treatise on
sentencing law, "Olis's sentencing range would probably be zero to six
months."

Thursday's decision requires any factor that increases a criminal
sentence, except for prior convictions, to be proved to a jury beyond a
reasonable doubt. Many sentencing schemes allow or require judges to
impose longer sentences based on all sorts of criteria, including the
defendant's background and the nature and severity of his crime.

The decision may also affect sentencing laws in at least 7 states in
addition to Washington and the federal system, said Kevin R. Reitz, an
expert on sentencing at the University of Colorado. In all of those
jurisdictions, many people sentenced in recent years may be expected to
challenge their sentences. And prosecutors, defendants and judges in
pending and new cases will face an altered landscape.

"It throws the whole country's criminal system into turmoil," said
Professor Bowman, who teaches law at Indiana University.

In the federal system alone, which handles a small minority of criminal
cases, the "vast majority" of 270,000 sentences in the last 4 years may be
affected, Justice Sandra Day O'Connor wrote in her dissent. "The court
ignores the havoc it is about to wreak on trial courts across the
country," Justice O'Connor wrote.

John Kramer, a former executive director of the Pennsylvania Commission on
Sentencing, said the decision could affect almost 90,000 state cases in
the same period.

In North Carolina, about 8,000 cases may be affected in those years, said
Ronald F. Wright Jr., a law professor at Wake Forest University and an
expert on sentencing law.

Jeffrey Fisher, who represents the defendant who challenged the Washington
law, said that perhaps 2,600 Washington cases would be affected by the
decision in that time frame.

The defendant, Ralph Blakely, had pleaded guilty to kidnapping his
estranged wife, which carried a penalty of 53 months. A judge increased
the sentence to 90 months based on his finding that Mr. Blakely had acted
with "deliberate cruelty," which the defendant had not admitted and no
jury had found. The Supreme Court said the imposition of additional time
violated Mr. Blakely's right to a jury trial.

Legal scholars were virtually unanimous in agreeing with Justice O'Connor
that the decision guts the federal sentencing guidelines.

"It will invalidate the federal guidelines," Mr. Reitz said. "The federal
system looks to be invalid from top to bottom."

Pending cases, including those on direct appeal, are affected by the
decision. So are, Justice O'Connor wrote, all sentences that followed a
2000 decision, Apprendi vs. New Jersey, on which Thursday's decision was
based. A separate decision on Thursday suggested that neither Apprendi nor
the new sentencing decision will otherwise be applied retroactively.

The Supreme Court gave trial judges no guidance on how to adjust to the
ruling. Starting Thursday morning, for instance, federal judges conducting
sentencing hearings had to decide whether to ignore the federal sentencing
guidelines entirely, to rely on only those aggravating factors that had
been proved to the jury or to carry on as before pending definitive
guidance from higher courts.

The middle course is a likely one, experts said.

Luke Esser, a Washington State senator, said the Supreme Court's decision
would please defense lawyers in the short run.

"The convicted felons that they represent are very happy that they may be
having some of their sentences reduced," Mr. Esser said. "I think the
general public and most of the state legislators will not share their
enthusiasm."

It is less clear whether defendants will be better off in the long run.

Also unclear is whether the decision will give judges more or less power
in deciding sentences. The decision seemed to endorse both traditional
sentencing schemes that leave sentences entirely up to judges so long as
they do not exceed statutory maximums and schemes that designate fixed
sentences for given crimes. Only a middle approach, in which judges are
required to make their own factual findings to increase sentences, was
held unconstitutional.

Sentencing guidelines that allow or require judges to impose more lenient
sentences based on mitigating factors are apparently unaffected.

Prosecutors and judges may use a variety of stopgap measures to address
the decision, experts said. Prosecutors can add more factors to
indictments and to plea agreements.

Judges can require juries to answer so-called special interrogatories
concerning the additional factors or give juries a role in sentencing, as
happens in death penalty cases.

State legislators in Washington will turn to fixing the flaws in the
state's sentencing law identified by the Supreme Court when they reconvene
in January, said Mr. Esser, a Republican and the vice chairman of the
Senate judiciary committee.

The approach the Washington Legislature ultimately adopts may influence
lawmakers in other states and members of the commission that oversees the
federal guidelines. Mr. Esser said he favored longer sentences that judges
may reduce based on mitigating factors. He dismissed the idea of giving
jurors a larger role in sentencing as "too expensive to the point of
impracticality."

Justice Antonin Scalia, writing for the majority in Thursday's decision,
said that practical considerations must take a back seat to the Sixth
Amendment's guarantee of a right to a jury trial. "Our decision cannot
turn," Justice Scalia wrote, "on whether or to what degree trial by jury
impairs the efficiency or fairness of criminal justice."

Mr. Bowman questioned that approach. "They're just upsetting the apple
cart," he said. "They're saying, 'You guys pick up the apples.'"

(source: New York Times)






VIRGINIA:

Court case on juvenile killers may echo here


A series of rapes earned Shermaine Ali Johnson 100 years in prison before
he was old enough to vote. Then a DNA test sent him to death row.

He was sentenced to death for the murder of a young Petersburg mother. The
evidence of guilt was overwhelming. Yet Johnson's life may be spared.

This fall, the U.S. Supreme Court will consider whether to outlaw the
execution of someone who killed while age 16 or 17. The court's decision,
expected next spring, could end this nation's distinction as one of the
last places in the world where juvenile offenders are executed.

Momentum for lifting the minimum age has been building. This year, Wyoming
and South Dakota raised the age to 18, although New Hampshire Gov. Craig
Benson vetoed similar legislation. Now, 19 of the 38 states with the death
penalty reserve it for those who kill at age 18 or older.

Polls have found that the public opposes the execution of juvenile
offenders, and scientific studies are producing evidence that the brain is
not fully mature before age 18 - that juveniles think differently.

The minimum age in Virginia is 16, and an attempt to raise the age to 18
was tabled by this year's General Assembly. Since the nation's highest
court allowed executions to resume in 1976, Virginia has executed 3 men
for murders they committed before they were 18. That is 2nd to Texas,
which has executed 13 juvenile offenders.

The only juvenile offender now on Virginia's death row is Johnson. He was
16 in July 1994 when he raped and murdered Hope Denise Hall, 22, a mother
and part-time television producer for WWBT-Channel 12.

Brain development and culpability

Over the past 5 years, science has determined that adolescent brains are
less developed than previously believed, according to the American Bar
Association.

It is more difficult for young people to make mature decisions or
understand the consequences of their actions, the studies suggest. That
does not mean they should not be punished when they commit crimes, but it
lessens their culpability, the ABA said.

Stephen K. Harper, a professor of juvenile justice at the University of
Miami law school, said the death penalty for 16-and 17-year-olds has
always been looked at as a moral issue by the courts, legislatures and
juries.

Anglo-American law punishes according to the level of culpability of the
offender, he said. The more capacity an individual has to fully understand
the consequences of his actions and to control behavior, "the more
punishable the crime."

"The assumption is if someone chooses evil, then that's a fully developed
choice," Harper said.

But he said science is finding that is not necessarily the case with
juveniles.

The studies are cited in a resolution calling for a ban on the death
penalty for juveniles, which was signed recently by more than 30 Virginia
religious leaders. The resolution is the latest lobbying effort by
Virginians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty to build support for a
similar proposal in the next General Assembly.

The group worked with Del. Albert C. Eisenberg, D-Arlington, during the
2004 session on legislation. The bill, which would have restricted the
death penalty to those 18 or older at the time of the capital offense, was
tabled in committee.

Eisenberg said he is awaiting the outcome of the U.S. Supreme Court case
on the constitutionality of executing those who commit crimes as a minor.
Depending on the outcome, the 1st-term delegate may reintroduce the bill
during next year's session.

Johnson, now 26, lives in a cell on death row at the Sussex I State
Prison. He declined to be interviewed for this story.

Given the nature and scope of his crimes, he is an unlikely poster boy for
raising the minimum age. Yet he has much in common with others who kill
while juveniles.

He has a low IQ and a possible personality disorder, and he had a
dysfunctional, chaotic childhood. He did not know his father. His mother,
a drug abuser, died of AIDS when Johnson was 14.

He was born Dec. 30, 1977, in Hoboken, N.J. His mother, Angela Johnson,
was 18 and unmarried. 2 years later, over her family's objections, she
married Russell "Rush" Foster.

Shermaine Johnson's grandmother, Virginia Dancy of Queens, N.Y., would
later testify that Foster and her daughter used drugs and moved from place
to place across northern New Jersey, one step ahead of police and rent
collectors.

Sometimes, Shermaine would stay with them; other times, with her, Dancy
said.

She said she once went to an address looking for her grandson and found
him sitting amid a crowd of people who were smoking crack cocaine. One was
his mother. Dancy said she took the child to use the bathroom and
discovered he had been sexually abused, though his mother denied it.

Dancy alleged that Angela Johnson was threatened and abused by Foster. To
escape him, Angela Johnson moved to a great-aunt's house in Franklin, Va.,
Dancy said. When Angela Johnson got a place of her own, she sent for
Shermaine. He was 8 years old.

Shermaine was having difficulty in school. A psychological evaluation by
the Franklin school system in February 1991, when he was a 13-year-old
fifth-grader, noted that he "experiences a great deal of insecurity;
dependence and need for support" and has a "propensity for aggressive
action."

He later would tell psychological evaluators that he had his first sexual
experience at age 10 with a 14-year-old girl.

Mother and son moved back to New Jersey when Shermaine was in the sixth
grade. Then he moved to New York to live with Dancy and finally back to
Virginia. Then his mother died of AIDS.

2 years ago, Shermaine told an evaluator about his mother's illness and
death.

He said he remembered when his grandmother gave him the bad news. He was
watching television. "I haven't cried over it yet. Everybody was sitting
around crying. . . . I can't get a tear out," he said.

Johnson was 1st arrested in Franklin, in 1990, for assault and battery.
The charge was dismissed. In 1992, he was convicted in New York of
attempted theft and aggravated sexual battery, earning two six-month
probation terms.

By 1994, he was shuttling between New Jersey and Franklin. In January
1994, he was arrested for aggravated sexual assault in Hudson County,
N.J., but the charge was not prosecuted.

In that case, a 13-year-old girl said Johnson came up behind and grabbed
her as she was leaving her apartment in Hoboken. He put a steak knife
against her throat and dragged her back up the hallway of her building. He
ordered her to take off her clothes and then raped her, she said.

Later in 1994 in Southampton County, Va., he raped two women at
knifepoint. He knew both women. He also raped a woman in New York.

In Virginia, he was convicted of the two rapes, statutory burglary and
abduction by force and sentenced to 100 years. In 1996, he was convicted
of the 1994 rape he committed in New York.

On July 11, 1994, Hall's nude body was found on the bedroom floor of her
apartment. She had been stabbed 15 times, her throat cut. She suffered
fatal wounds in her back, chest and neck. She was conscious as she bled to
death.

Police found blood on two steak knives in the kitchen. 2 more knives were
found, one on Hall's bed and one in her bathroom.

Blood also was found on the kitchen floor, and it was smeared on the
inside of the apartment door. In the bedroom, blood was on the wall near
Hall's body as well as the floor, dresser, sheets and bedspread.

The telephone cord had been pulled from the wall. There was no sign of
forced entry.

A suspect or 2 surfaced, but in the end, police were stumped.

Two years after the slaying, the state forensics lab was comparing DNA
samples from crime scenes with the DNA profiles of 7,442 felons on file at
the time in Virginia and made a match, or "cold hit."

DNA in some of the blood and in semen found at the scene of Hall's murder
matched that of Johnson, then a 19-year-old inmate at the Southampton
Correctional Center. He was charged with Hall's murder in January 1997.

On July 24, 1998, a jury recommended that he be sentenced to death. The
small, boyish-looking Johnson raised his chained hands and balled his
fists as he was led out of the courtroom.

The death sentence was thrown out by the Virginia Supreme Court on a
technicality. Meanwhile, an evaluation of Johnson found that he has a
dissociative identity disorder, also known as multiple-personality
disorder.

In August 2002, a 2nd jury recommended the death penalty for Johnson, and
he was sentenced to death again on Oct. 28, 2002.

Johnson now waits for the U.S. Supreme Court to decide a Missouri case
that could save his life. This year, the justices announced they would
consider the constitutionality of the death penalty for those who commit
capital murders while they are juveniles.

The case involves Christopher Simmons, who was 17 when he murdered Shirley
Crook 10 years ago. Last year, the Missouri Supreme Court ruled that the
execution of Simmons would violate the constitutional protection against
cruel and unusual punishment. Missouri appealed, bringing the case to the
U.S. Supreme Court.

In its ruling, the Missouri Supreme Court cited "evolving standards of
decency" that held such executions to be wrong. The U.S. Supreme Court's
ruling in 2002 barring the execution of mentally retarded killers also
cited evolving standards of decency.

A 2002 Gallup poll found that while 72 % of Americans favored capital
punishment, nearly 70 % opposed capital punishment for those who killed
while younger than 18. A 2003 ABC News poll found that only 37 % of the
public wanted the death penalty for Lee Boyd Malvo, who was a juvenile
while he participated in the sniper slayings in Virginia and the
Washington area.

Malvo was sentenced to life, even though the Justice Department steered
the case to Virginia, where Malvo could face the death penalty.

(source: Richmond Times-Dispatch)






MARYLAND:

A good society's answers to death penalty's backers


Maryland filled Steven Oken's veins with poison 10 days ago. How many of
you feel safer than you did 11 days ago? One other question: Has the
state-inflicted death of this pathetic human being made you feel better
about the quality of life in this state? Living in a place where, every
few years, we strap a guy down and stick chemicals in his arms - there's a
special feeling that comes from being a taxpayer who contributes to that.

Don't worry. Like the 17-year cicada, the Steven Oken story won't be
around much longer, and we won't have to think about it or wrestle with
the conscience anymore. In fact, it's pretty much gone already. Death
carries, oh, a certain finality with it.

But before we move on to other business, I'd like to respond to some of
the many assertions I heard people make - or I read in their e-mails - in
the days before and immediately after the Oken execution. There were
recurring themes, so I picked the quotes that best sounded them.

"I believe the death penalty should not be looked at as a means to deter
crime. Rather, if you are willing take the life of another the state
should require your life in return."

Supporters of the death penalty have been saying this for years, without
regard to the calculus. We'd have to put to death hundreds of Marylanders
- and thousands of Americans, in time - to kill every killer and meet that
eye-for-an-eye imperative. We'd have to buy lethal chemicals by the barrel
and establish a state crematorium just to keep up with demand.

"I am certain that if the appeals process was shortened and convicted
felons didn't sit in jail for years earning their degrees, the death
penalty would be a deterrent."

Yes, and if history is any guide, we'd probably execute some innocent guys
along the way. But what's 1 or 2 mistakes when we're talking about the
expeditious eradication of killers? The people who argue this point never
seem to acknowledge the deterrent quality or punitive power of life
sentences without parole.

"For better or worse, execution absolutely guarantees that the murderer
will not murder again."

Of course. But life without parole approaches the same promise without
forcing the state to load up a syringe with succinylcholine chloride.

"How many of those who live in ivory towers and are opponents of capital
punishment have ever been the victim of a violent act or know the loss of
someone who has been tortured and killed by another human being?"

Ever get called for jury duty? Ever notice the number of hands that go up
during voir dire, when the judge asks prospective jurors who have been the
victims of crime - or the relatives of victims of crime - to identify
themselves? It's startling. But it's also irrelevant. What the state does,
it does in all our names. What the state does is everyone's business. I'm
tired of hearing that the victims of violent crime - or the relatives of
victims of crime - have the exclusive say in this matter and that the rest
of us aren't qualified to render an opinion because we can neither claim a
homicide in the family nor appreciate horrific tragedies endured by
others.

"It was poor judgment on the part of the Attorney General to make such a
public pronouncement [against the death penalty] on such a controversial
issue."

Someone said this about Joe Curran, even as the attorney general's
assistants rushed off to various courts to argue for the execution of
Oken. Apparently, there was concern that Curran, a Democrat who opposes
the death penalty, might keep his staff from making the state's case.
Obviously, he didn't. Nor did he stand in the way of 3 other executions
that occurred earlier on his watch.

By contrast, no one seemed overly concerned about the Republican
governor's bias in support of the death penalty, or his myopia. He's been
dismissive of questions raised about racial and jurisdictional disparities
in the application of capital punishment in Maryland; he made it clear
during his 2002 campaign that he wasn't going to hold up executions
despite claims that the system was terribly flawed.

"How about we build the new prison to house all the murderers next to your
house?"

Sorry, I don't think we have the right zoning. Besides, there's no need.
We've got space, assuming the governor doesn't tear down Super Max.
Housing murderers for life - and not putting them to death - is what a
civilized society does. It's a measure of our decency. There's nothing
uplifting about state-sanctioned murder. For proof, I offer the next
statement, from a reader:

"One day Channel 11 asked if lethal injection was 'cruel and unusual.' My
response was, 'Well, it's pretty much like putting your dog to sleep,
which makes it way too humane.'"

Look, I hate the death penalty. It's barbaric. It's homicidal retribution,
and homicidal retribution breeds and feeds violence in a society. The good
society wouldn't tolerate this. The good society would view human life as
inviolate to the extent that the state may not kill in cold blood. You
can't accept the proposition that the state has the right to take a life
in cold blood and call yourself civilized. You can't have it both ways.

"I applaud Governor Ehrlich for having the guts not to stand in the way of
justice.

Sorry, but some of us are cynical about politicians, Democrats and
Republican, who use the death penalty to their advantage. I suspect a lot
of them think it's morally abhorrent, and not useful in fighting crime,
but they don't dare speak against it for fear of being labeled soft. Even
many so-called liberals - Hillary and Bill Clinton, for example - have
made a point of flashing their support of capital punishment just to avoid
the soft-on-crime tag. Even the most lightweight politician knows the safe
course is to let a condemned man die. Politicians know that in a week or
10 days, it'll all be forgotten.

(source: Column, Dan Rodricks, The Baltimore Sun)






NEW YORK:

Death penalty law likely to be revised


New York State Senator Dale Volker said the Legislature will probably try
to revise the state's death penalty law after part of it was deemed
unconstitutional last week.

Still, the Erie County Republican and chief legislative proponent of the
death penalty said he still doesn't think there's a problem with the
current law.

The state's highest court disagrees. On Thursday, the Court of Appeals
struck down the law in a 4-3 vote.

(source: Capital 9 News)

***********************

The case against the court


Death penalty opponents were not the only winners when New York's highest
court threw out the state's capital punishment law. Count John Taylor a
winner, too. He gets to keep living.

Taylor is on death row for being 1 of 2 shooters in the Wendy's massacre 4
years ago. A Queens jury found he deserved to die for his role in that
grisly bloodbath, the details of which prove that the death penalty is the
only punishment that fits some crimes.

At closing time on May 24, 2000, the seven workers in the Flushing
fast-food shop were gagged with tape and marched into a basement freezer.
Garbage bags were put over their heads, and they were ordered to get on
their knees. Each was then shot in the head, execution style.

Taylor was convicted of killing the first two workers, one of whom had
fired him from the store months earlier for stealing. He then told his
accomplice to "finish the job." The accomplice, Craig Godineaux, killed 3
and wounded 2.

Godineaux confessed and testified against Taylor, saying they came to rob
the store - they got $2,400 - and Taylor didn't want any witnesses.
Godineaux, deemed "immune from execution" because he is mildly retarded,
is serving life without parole. Taylor is apparently now also "immune from
execution," thanks to the crazy ruling by the Court of Appeals.

The court, acting in a separate case, found the death penalty law
unconstitutional because of a provision on instructions to deadlocked
juries. By a 4-to-3 vote, the court said the law was so flawed "the death
penalty may not be imposed."

The losing judges were bitter, saying the majority was looking for a way
to kill a law it didn't like. The dissenters are persuasive, given that
the court stopped the state's first 3 death convictions and now has
tortured logic to stop the law itself.

So while Taylor and others on death row get new life, the law's supporters
can be forgiven if they are so frustrated that they consider throwing in
the towel. After all, not a single killer has been executed since the
popular law was signed with great fanfare by Gov. Pataki in 1995.

Some prosecutors, namely Robert Morgenthau in Manhattan and Robert Johnson
in the Bronx, have undermined it by never using it.

Then, too, the facts on the street have changed dramatically in nine
years. The crime wave that propelled the law through the Legislature by
wide margins has receded. City murders have dropped by some 70% since the
bad old days.

While some death penalty supporters insist the existence of the law has
been a deterrent, I don't buy that argument. People like John Taylor and
Craig Godineaux don't think rationally about consequences, to themselves
or anybody else.

Consider that the people they killed in Wendy's were a roll call of New
York's ethnic and racial working class. Anita Smith, 22, Jean-Dumel
Auguste, 27, Ramon Nazario, 44, Jeremy Mele, 18, and Ali Ibadat, 40 - all
wiped out.

The death penalty law did not save them, nor has it stopped killers in
Texas and other states where executions are fairly common. Whether by
nature or nurture, some people simply are cold-blooded killers, and no law
will stop them.

Deterrence aside, then, there is only one justification for capital
punishment, and it's why supporters must fix the law to pass court muster.
The issue is this: society's obligation to deal with heinous killers after
their cases are absolutely final.

Rehabilitate them? Hardly. Warehouse them for 30, 40 or 50 years? Why? So
they can enjoy another sunrise or kill a guard or escape to freedom? They
don't deserve the chance for any of that.

Quite simply, by their actions, the John Taylors of the world have
forfeited the right to live. They have no right to hope, to dream, to
smile, to cry.

Death is what they deserve. Death is all they deserve.

(source: Opinion, Michael Goodwin, The New York Daily News)

***************************

We can't let killers decide to kill selves


'Let's do it."

Those are Gary Gilmore's immortal words, the most famous three syllables
in the modern history of capital punishment. They are enshrined forever in
"The Executioner's Song," Norman Mailer's rattling portrait of a new breed
of death-row inmate.

Stephen LaValle is just the latest member of that very same breed -
impatient volunteers for state-assisted suicide.

Like Gilmore, LaValle fought his lawyers as they tried to save his life.
Unlike Gilmore, he tried to hide the facts of his own troubled past, facts
that couldn't help but illuminate the vicious path he'd chosen.

Like Gilmore, LaValle swore he'd rather die than spend the rest of his
life behind bars.

Then, yesterday, the judges of New York's highest court showed that they
are something more than the shrugging Utah jurists of 25 years ago, who'd
answered Gilmore's "Let's do it" with their own "Well, OK."

By the narrowest possible margin, the New York State Court of Appeals
declared it is not in the business of helping psychopathic murderers kill
themselves. They sent Stephen LaValle, this convicted capital murderer,
back to Long Island to be sentenced again. And they did something more
sweeping than that: They tossed the state's oddly constructed death-
penalty law.

"Let's not do it," was the unmistakable message from Albany yesterday.

It isn't hard to detest Stephen LaValle.

All it takes is a quick recollection of the way he left the woman he was
convicted of murdering.

She was Cynthia Quinn, a 32-year-old Long Island art teacher and track
coach with two young children. Her body was found shortly after noon on
May 31, 1997, in the woods near Mill Road in Suffolk County's Yaphank. The
coroner counted 73 puncture wounds on her neck, chest, back and arms that
looked like they'd been delivered with a screwdriver. She had broken ribs,
bruises on her arms and scrapes on various other parts of her body. She
appeared to have been raped.

6 hours earlier, she'd left for her usual morning run through the
neighborhood, never to return again.

There was DNA evidence, a confession to police and a conviction at trial.

All very good reasons for the man pinned with her murder to spend the rest
of his life behind bars. But none of it could justify making the state an
official, taxpayer-supported killer of last resort.

Not surprisingly, New York's death-penalty law has now collapsed from its
own internal illogic, nudged by the diligent work of dedicated defense
lawyers.

The legal flaw here was a weird provision in the 1995 law that comes up
when a jury is split 6-to-6 at sentencing - half its members wanting
death, half wanting life without parole. Oddly, in such cases, the state
law said the defendant would get a life sentence - with the possibility of
parole in as little as 20 years.

What kind of sense does that make? This so-called deadlock instruction
might well coerce wavering jurors to vote for death, Judge Albert
Rosenblatt noted quite eloquently in his opinion yesterday.

"The trial judge gives the jury the deadlock instruction at an exquisitely
crucial time," Rosenblatt wrote. "It is a signpost at the very crossroads
of life and death. If the directions are omitted or coercive, it could
wrongfully mean someone's life."

LaValle made clear his own death wish. "I'd rather be executed than spend
the rest of my life in a cell," he said in a chilling death-row interview
two years ago with New York Times reporter Bill Glaberson.

It was his way of saying, "Let's do it."

And he did what he could to handcuff his defense team, led by appellate
counsel Kevin Doyle of the state Capital Defenders office.

Under New York's death-penalty law, juries are instructed at sentencing to
weigh "mitigation evidence" such as a defendant's upbringing, family
history and psychiatric health. Yet LaValle wanted to keep from the jury -
and the trial judge, Michael Mullen agreed - details like his youthful
suicide attempt and abuse of angel dust, crack and mescaline.

The story gets rich and sordid: the "physical and possibly sexual abuse,"
mentioned court papers. The time his mother purportedly stabbed his father
with a kitchen knife. The threats to his own lawyers that he would "cut
off persons' heads, shoot them, cripple them or sodomize them."

The more you tour the inside of this killer's tortured mind, the more you
realize he shouldn't be deciding anything.

Including whether we should "do it" or not.

(source: Newsday)

***********************

Editorial: Hold it----N.Y. court finds flaw in death penalty law


While we remain unpersuaded that capital punishment is something a
civilized society should be engaged in, the fact remains that New York
reinstituted the death penalty in 1995 and there have been local crimes
which have cried out for it.

The killers of Broome County Sheriff's Deputy Kevin Tarsia didn't receive
it because they pled guilty and opted for life in prison -- a suitable
alternative. The accused killers of Valerie Spears and her daughter Devin
Spears were facing the death penalty -- until this week, when the state's
highest court struck down part of the law.

The Court of Appeals, in a 4-3 decision, didn't hold that the punishment
was unconstitutional but said the jury-instruction portion was. The court
held that requiring judges to tell juries that if they cannot agree on a
sentence (death or life without parole) the judge will impose a sentence
of 20 years to life to 25-to-life -- either of which includes the
possibility of parole.

"The deadlock instruction interjects the fear that if jurors do not reach
unanimity, the defendant may be paroled in 20 years and pose a threat to
society in the future," Judge George Bundy Smith wrote. That could
pressure a juror who doesn't want to see a defendant back on the street
vote for a death penalty sentence they would otherwise oppose.

Death penalty advocates criticized the decision, and Gov. George E. Pataki
and some legislators said they'd quickly rectify that portion of the law
-- either by having the judges impose a life-without-parole sentence if
the jury is hung, or by giving juries three sentencing options: death,
life-without-parole or life-with-parole. That sounds simple enough, but
New York is saddled with a state Legislature in which nothing is simple --
and very little is done quickly. It has refused to adopt a state budget on
time for 20 consecutive years, and this year has ignored a court mandate
to change the school aid formula. It has also walked away from a whole
range of other pressing problems.

The immediate impact of the death penalty ruling is that four death
sentences have been invalidated -- no one has been executed since the
penalty was restored -- and nine people facing trial (including two in
Broome County) won't have to face the death sentence but can still be sent
to prison for life.

That won't satisfy the common urge for revenge, but it's still justice. A
large majority of Americans favor capital punishment, but it doesn't
reduce crime and it has been applied inconsistently. Many murderers may
richly deserve the fate they dealt to their victims, but if we cannot
ensure that it is meted out without regard to the financial or racial
background of the defendant -- and we cannot -- then as a decent society,
we would do well to forgo it.

(source: Editorial, Binghamton Press & Sun-Bulletin)



Reply via email to