Dec. 9 VIRGINIA: The politics of injustice----The testimony of one bogus witness put Larry Fowlkes away on murder charges for 45 years. Will presidential hopeful Gov. Mark Warner set him free? With his decision in late November to spare the life of condemned killer Robin Lovitt, Virginia Gov. Mark R. Warner avoided the dubious distinction of presiding over the nation's 1,000th execution in the modern era of capital punishment. Instead, it fell to his neighbors in North Carolina, who put Kenneth Lee Boyd to death on Dec. 2. Warner, a moderate Democrat, is expected to devote himself full-time to a run for the White House in 2008. But with a month left in his term as governor, the 51-year-old presidential hopeful is not out of the woods when it comes to messy questions of murder and justice in the American legal system. While the media focus on the pending execution of Stanley "Tookie" Williams, the notorious Crips gang leader seeking clemency in California for rehabilitating himself in prison, Warner finds himself embroiled in a struggle over the blatant miscarriage of justice. Before departing office, he must address no fewer than three major cases involving possible wrongful convictions in the Virginia courts. There's not much Warner can do for Roger Keith Coleman. Virginia executed Coleman in 1992 for the rape and murder of his sister-in-law. But Warner says he'll decide whether to allow new DNA testing of evidence from the case, which could establish that Virginia executed an innocent man. Such a finding would have historic repercussions for the death penalty debate nationwide. Warner must also consider the fates of no less than five inmates who, more than likely, were wrongly convicted of murder. All 5 have clemency petitions sitting on the governor's desk. In the case of the so-called Norfolk Four, four Navy sailors were sentenced to life in prison for a 1997 rape and murder. But a 5th man has since confessed to the crime and his DNA alone -- not that of the other four -- was found inside the victim. The fifth petition, on Warner's desk for more than a year, is for another Virginia inmate whose case is a veritable textbook study of how justice can go awry. The case is that of Larry Donnell Fowlkes, who is serving what is likely to be a life sentence for a 1996 murder -- despite the fact that the Commonwealth of Virginia acknowledges he was nowhere near the scene of the crime. Warner knows that a prerequisite to winning the modern presidency is to insist that he's a badass when it comes to criminals, particularly murderers. And what better way to prove it than by signing off on an execution or 2 -- or 152, as was the case with George W. Bush when he was governor of Texas. Shortly before commuting Lovitt's sentence, Warner was quick to remind voters in red-state Virginia -- which is second only to Texas in the number of people it has executed -- that he had previously denied clemency to 11 death row inmates. It is by now second nature for any Democratic presidential hopeful with a memory of Willie Horton, the furloughed Massachusetts murderer who many believe doomed the 1988 campaign of Gov. Michael Dukakis, to avoid any decision that could be construed as "soft on crime," or manipulated to the same end by an opponent. While still governor, the White House-bound Bill Clinton was the first Democrat to demonstrate that he'd imbibed that lesson when he returned to his home state from the campaign trail in 1992 for the controversial execution of a severely brain-damaged Arkansas death row inmate. At the same time, Warner seems to appreciate that Americans are increasingly concerned that prosecutors, juries and courts don't always get it right. To date, 122 innocent people have been discovered on the nation's death rows, while scores of people -- 163 at last count, including 8 in Virginia -- have used DNA to establish that they were innocent of crimes for which they'd been incarcerated. Warner seemed to acknowledge some of these concerns in the Lovitt case. He said executing Lovitt would be problematic because a Virginia court clerk had allowed the destruction of DNA evidence that might have established the condemned man's innocence. The state, Warner said, "must ensure that every time this ultimate sanction is carried out, it is done fairly." Warner also said he was commuting Lovitt's sentence "to reaffirm public confidence in our justice system." And that is precisely the task that confronts him now with the Coleman case and the clemency petitions awaiting his attention, in particular that of Fowlkes. The story of Fowlkes' bizarre odyssey, from arrest through the Virginia courts to prison, shows how the pursuit of justice can go so far off track -- throwing a poor and poorly represented defendant into the dark obscurity of the nation's penal system, with little if any chance of ever emerging. As is often true in cases of wrongful conviction, the devil is literally to be found in the details. What at first glance seems an indecipherable web of contradictory claims, the Fowlkes case ultimately comes down to the word of a single, highly suspect witness, Sheila Barbour Stokes, an incarcerated career criminal who, in exchange for her testimony, had a pending felony dropped and thereby avoided what could have been an additional 10 years in prison. In his closing argument to jurors at Fowlkes' second murder trial in Nottoway County in southern Virginia (jurors deadlocked 7-5 in favor of acquittal in the first trial), prosecutor Mayo Gravatt acknowledged that his star witness came with a lot of baggage: "Sheila Barbour is not the kind of witness I'm happy to bring in court here and sit down in front of you and put under oath and have be a key witness in the case." But Gravatt put her on the stand anyway, for the very simple reason that Sheila Barbour Stokes was really all he had. He had no physical evidence linking Fowlkes to the crime and he acknowledged in his closing arguments to the jury that at the time of the crime, Fowlkes was probably 30 miles from the scene of the murder attending a church service, where no less than a dozen witnesses, including a police officer, saw him. Only Stokes linked Fowlkes to the planning of the crime and the disposal of evidence. Gravatt's case was so thin, in fact, that he'd proposed a plea bargain, which would probably have resulted in a three- to 5-year sentence, if Fowlkes would testify against the state's primary suspect, Bruce Allen. Fowlkes refused, insisting he knew nothing about the crime. Allen, who was identified by the surviving victim, is serving 2 life sentences for the crimes. Without Sheila Stokes, Gravatt could not have even considered indicting Fowlkes. But why did she testify? Nottoway County court records strongly suggest that there was a deal. They show that a pending felony charge against Stokes was dismissed after she testified at Fowlkes' first trial. In addition, Gravatt failed to inform Fowlkes' defense of the deal until Stokes was literally on the witness stand testifying against Fowlkes, an apparent violation of the law. The jury, which almost certainly did not understand that there was a deal and that Stokes had a personal motive for testifying as she did, took just 40 minutes to find Fowlkes guilty of the brutal stabbing murder of Ida Bowlin and the robbery and attempted murder of her husband, Albert, in Crewe, Va. It took less than 10 minutes to send Fowlkes away for 45 years. Equally important, the evidence suggests that Gravatt knew his star witness was committing perjury. Gravatt told jurors, "I want you to really study hard, each of you" a statement Stokes gave police in January 1996 in which she claimed Fowlkes confessed to her that he was in his car, outside the Bowlin home, when the murder and robbery took place. But Stokes' statement to police is completely contradicted by Gravatt's own admission that Fowlkes was not at the murder scene, but in church. Either Gravatt knew that Stokes was lying when she placed Fowlkes at the scene of the crime, or he believed that Fowlkes was stupid enough to tell Stokes he was involved in a murder when he wasn't. Unfortunately for Fowlkes, his lawyer failed to point up this contradiction to the jury. He also failed to call Stokes' brother who was prepared to testify that Stokes lied at Fowlkes' first trial when she said the perpetrators had planned the crime at his house. Stokes' most incriminating statement at trial, that she helped Fowlkes clean blood from the rear seat of his car the day after the murder, would also seem inconsistent with Gravatt's admission that Fowlkes was in church when the crime was going down. At trial, Gravatt speculated to the credulous jurors that the perpetrators might have waited until Fowlkes could join them the following morning to dispose of the bloody evidence. But why would the murderers wait eight hours to get rid of hot evidence? And wouldn't the blood have dried by then? If so, how did it get all over Fowlkes' car? Why would they need Fowlkes, and why let him know where the incriminating evidence was dumped? Fowlkes' lawyer never asked any of these questions, and Gravatt never volunteered any clarifications. Fowlkes' lawyer also failed to call to the stand Stokes' sister, who signed an affidavit saying she was with Sheila the whole day after the crime -- and that Sheila could not have been with Fowlkes. Then there's the astonishing fact that the state's own forensic expert found no blood in Fowlkes' car. Once again, Fowlkes' lawyer didn't ask the expert to testify. Equally important, Stokes told police that she had used Dawn dish detergent to scrub the car. Given that the forensic analysis found no blood, the presence of a specific brand name detergent would have greatly enhanced Stokes' credibility, while its absence would have been very damaging. But when police sent Fowlkes' car to the forensic lab for analysis they apparently didn't bother to ask it to look for traces of the detergent, and no mention of it is made in the forensic report. So why didn't Fowlkes' lawyer ask the most seemingly obvious questions or put up exculpatory witnesses? Shawn Armbrust, director of the Mid-Atlantic Innocence Project, which advocates on behalf of wrongfully convicted defendants, says lousy lawyers are a recurring theme in wrongful conviction cases, and "very common in states such as Virginia" that have no statewide defender system. "People assume that if you get a bad lawyer at trial it is corrected later in the process," says Armbrust. "But it actually dooms the defendant throughout the appeals process." Although it would seem that Fowlkes was convicted on the basis of perjured testimony, it's hard to be certain because Stokes' credibility, highly questionable at the time of the trial, is now about as close to zero as is humanly possible. Despite repeated requests by Salon, Gravatt, the prosecutor, declined to answer any questions about the case. Likewise, Stokes, who is presently serving an eight-year sentence after pleading guilty to 29 felonies, including fraud and deceit, refused to discuss the case. Meanwhile, Stokes has signed two contradictory affidavits. In the first, penned nearly 5 years after Fowlkes' conviction, she recanted her trial testimony in its entirety, admitting that her statement to police implicating Fowlkes "was false," that she'd never heard Fowlkes talk about the crime or plan the crime, and that she'd fabricated the story about helping Fowlkes clean blood from his car. Moreover, she admitted to cutting a deal for her testimony. "Mayo Gravatt told me that he could get the charges off of me if I help them. I was scared therefore I agreed to help." Then, a year after acknowledging that she'd committed perjury at trial, Stokes recanted her recantation. Perhaps not coincidentally, she had new charges pending against her at the time, which the state was kind enough to dismiss. In any case, Stokes' initial confession of perjury came about four years too late for Fowlkes. Virginia law at the time gave a defendant only 21 days following conviction to introduce new exculpatory evidence. (To his credit, Warner worked to repeal this law, which was an affront to the most elemental notions of justice.) Meanwhile, a federal statute of limitations, enacted after the Oklahoma City bombing in order to speed up the execution process nationwide, set a one-year limit for appeals. Fowlkes' situation was further compromised by the fact that Virginia does not provide convicted felons with lawyers once their state appeals are complete. Fowlkes filed his own federal appeal and messed up, missing a filing deadline, which prevented him from ever having his evidence of innocence considered by a court of law. Today Larry Fowlkes remains incarcerated at Virginia's Lawrenceville Correctional Center, in failing health. Diabetes and vascular disease led to the amputation of his left leg. Now 49, he continues to proclaim his innocence, but has exhausted all appeals. Fowlkes would probably be better off if he were there under a death sentence. With an execution date, the media might be more interested in his case. But Fowlkes has much in common with many of the innocents released from death row. His predicament appears to have been a result of lousy lawyering, questionable witness testimony, and a judicial system that has prevented him from gaining a full hearing on the evidence. It is, of course, unfortunate that no jury ever heard all of the evidence debated in open court. But that is precisely why the Founding Fathers provided for clemency. A man at one extreme end of the debate over when and how to grant it currently resides in the Oval Office. Before he was elected president in 2000, George W. Bush denied clemency as governor of Texas to 152 men and women. Bush touted his high moral "character" and assured skeptical voters that he had reviewed each and every death penalty case "carefully" and "thoroughly." It is now known that Bush systematically rubber-stamped executions and repeatedly ignored evidence that made a case for clemency, including evidence of innocence. At the other extreme, Illinois Gov. George Ryan, also a Republican, commuted the death sentences of 167 death row inmates after he became convinced that the justice system was fatally flawed. Ryan noted that he had personally come within hours of signing off on the execution of an innocent man. In a country where 2/3 of the population continues to support capital punishment, it is not clear that most would support either the Bush or Ryan approach. What is clear is that the seemingly endless reports of wrongful convictions have had an impact on American opinion and on jurors fearful that they could make a lethal mistake. Death sentences are down by half since the late 1990s, while executions are down 40 % from their peak in 1999. One Gallup poll found that 73 % of Americans believed an innocent person had been executed in the U.S. in the last 5 years. Just last month, Virginia voters defied the state's political profile by electing a Democrat and death penalty opponent, Lt. Governor Tim Kaine, to replace Warner when his term ends. And even some of the country's most radical conservatives, such as Pennsylvania Sen. Rick Santorum -- who has voted to make it harder for prisoners like Fowlkes to have their appeals heard -- have expressed uneasiness about the death penalty because of the potential for a miscarriage of justice. "I felt very troubled about cases where someone may have been convicted wrongly," Santorum said earlier this year. It is no longer self-evident that Americans feel comfortable with a cavalier approach to clemency when people are literally pleading for their lives and liberty. As Warner contemplates the White House, more Americans may be looking for a politician who is not just tough on crime, but who is serious about insuring that our system of justice works -- and when it doesn't, has the courage to set it right. (source: Salon News) OREGON: A flawed Oregon system----Resolution of a death-penalty case should not take more than 30 years, as it likely will in the Houser murders When a large majority of Oregon voters reinstated the death penalty in 1984, the state set up multiple layers of protections for defendants facing possible execution. This system is careful and thorough but also cumbersome and pliable. There's no other way to explain how Randy Guzek remains alive and well and still manipulating those layers of protection nearly two decades after being convicted in a horrific Oregon homicide case. On Wednesday, when the U.S. Supreme Court finally heard arguments in the Guzek case, it became clearer than ever that something needs fixing in Oregon's death penalty law. Several of the justices as much as said so. "I don't understand your statute," Justice Antonin Scalia flatly told the Oregon solicitor general who appeared before the court. Justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Stephen Breyer and Chief Justice John Roberts also questioned the state's law and the way it was interpreted in the Guzek case by the Oregon Supreme Court. It ruled that in a new sentencing trial for Guzek, jurors should be able to consider any lingering doubts they may have about his guilt, even though he's already been found guilty beyond reasonable doubt. That makes no sense, and a couple of justices said so. No matter how the high court rules on this case next year, Oregon legislators should clean up this statute and remove any invitation to what Roberts derided Wednesday as "a rerun of the guilt trial." The state's capital punishment system does appear to be flawed to the point of being unworkable. In Guzek's case, one can argue that Oregon doesn't have a death penalty, just a system for sentencing people to death. Ronald Reagan was still president back in 1987 when Rod and Lois Houser were viciously murdered in their remote Central Oregon home. A year later Guzek was convicted of masterminding the killings, aided by two accomplices who testified against him. But death sentences imposed by three successive juries have been thrown out by the Oregon Supreme Court. Guzek has played the state appeals game for nearly two decades and hasn't even begun the federal appeals process he'll be entitled to next. Prosecutors say he can string it out for at least 15 more years. The due-process rights of all defendants, even those convicted of crimes as heinous as Guzek's, should be protected. All cases should receive a fair and thorough review on appeal. It's reasonable to expect that process to take a long time, up to 10 or 12 years. But more than a quarter of a century? That's what we're looking at in the Guzek case. Meanwhile, many of his victims' loved ones have already died without seeing final resolution of the case. This is no call for an increase in executions. Oregon's law essentially reflects a state that wants nothing resembling the execution mills of Texas, Virginia and Oklahoma. But in the Guzek case, this law has proved to be so perversely slow that it's cruel and almost pointless. Justices on the nation's highest court indicated they are troubled by Oregon's law. Oregonians should be troubled, too, that it works in a way that fosters disrespect for the courts and additional, unwarranted pain for people such as the families of Rod and Lois Houser. (ssource: Editorial, The Oregonian) NEW JERSEY: Ocean prosecutor calls for end to death penalty Ocean County Prosecutor Thomas F. Kelaher is calling for the end of capital punishment in New Jersey, according to a letter released by his office. In the letter addressed to acting Gov. Richard J. Codey, Kelaher does not state his feelings on the morality of executions. In fact, Robert Gasser, executive assistant prosecutor and spokesman for the Prosecutor's Office, said Thursday that Kelaher is "not opposed to the death penalty's principle." Rather, Kelaher's support for ending the death penalty stems from the practicality of the system. He argues in his letter that 23 years of death-penalty trials in New Jersey have resulted in no executions. "The history of nonapplication of the law has been a cruel hoax on the families of the victims and the citizens of this state," Kelaher wrote. "They have been deprived of final resolutions over the acts of homicidal criminals where the evidence is overwhelming." Kelaher noted that New Jersey law requires the automatic review of death-penalty convictions and that prosecutors must meet requirements that are virtually impossible. "Years of appeals, countless delays, continuous hearings and millions of dollars later, the condemned are invariably moved to the general prison population. The strain on prosecution budgets is enormous and the cost in human terms is incalculable," the letter states. Instead of capital punishment, Kelaher argues for a Life Without Parole law, which is being proposed in the state Legislature. Under that proposal, convicted first-degree murderers would receive life sentences without the possibility of ever being released. Gasser said Kelaher would still seek the death penalty in appropriate cases as long as state law remains unchanged. Thus far, Gasser said, the office has not received a response from the state. Kelaher wrote the letter after he was contacted by the group New Jerseyans for Alternatives to the Death Penalty, Gasser said. Unlike Kelaher, that organization believes execution is immoral in principle, but also argues it is impractical, according to the group's Web site. (source: Press of Atlantic City) **************** Death penalty opponents lobby Trenton for repeal These people weren't pros. Unlike the career lobbyists who roam the State House, these common citizens packed hallways, crowded elevators and crammed into committee rooms in search of elected lawmakers. Many didn't even know what bill number they were supposed to be supporting. Some of these one-day lobbyists had to stop and ask, "Are you a senator?" But unlike the paid bill-wranglers, these men and women who came to Trenton on Thursday had a personal mission - shut down death row forever in New Jersey. "Personal witness is always better than calling, writing letters or sending e-mails," said Sister Jean Amore of Paterson. "When you can tell somebody your story, that makes it a real opportunity to change someone's mind." Thursday's citizen activists featured a father whose daughter was murdered, a man who spent 18 years in prison until DNA evidence freed him, and a nun whose life story became an acclaimed movie. Sister Helen Prejean, the nationally known activist who detailed her death row ministry in the book "Dead Man Walking" - the movie was released in 1995, with Susan Sarandon portraying Dejean in an Oscar-winning turn - was the headline attraction. As she walked the halls, Prejean introduced herself to lawmakers, forcing them into impromptu meetings with her as they headed to committee hearings. She offered copies of her latest book and pressed them for support. Sen. John Adler found himself face to face with Prejean as he tried to work his way to a hearing. N.J. and the death penalty: Number of executions since 1976, when states began reinstating the death penalty: 0 New Jersey executions before 1976: 361 Current death row population: 14 New Jersey death penalty law enacted: Aug. 6, 1982 Why hasn't the death penalty been carried out? Lengthy appeals process; execution procedures still being revised. [source: Death Penalty Information Center Web site, deathpenaltyinfo.org] "Soon, sister, soon," Adler said, "we'll get this done." Death penalty opponents are gathering political support unprecedented since the Legislature legalized executions in 1982. Many lawmakers now support halting executions while the state studies the system that has not sent anyone to die despite 23 years of legal review. Some legislators are even saying the law should be repealed and that New Jersey's ultimate penalty be life in prison with no chance for parole. Acting Governor Codey, meanwhile, "has said publicly that he is open to a moratorium while the application of the death penalty in New Jersey is studied. However, he does not support an outright repeal at this time," spokeswoman Kelley Heck said. Death penalty opponents will have an ally in the next governor as well. Governor-elect Jon Corzine opposes the death penalty and is reviewing the moratorium issue, spokeswoman Ivette Mendez said. Even the state Supreme Court might be willing to reconsider the issue. In 2002, Associate Justice Virginia Long suggested in a strongly worded dissenting opinion that public attitudes about the death penalty have changed so much since the death penalty law was written that the Legislature might consider it time to review the law itself. But not all lawmakers are willing to consider an end to death sentences, even after a visit from Sister Helen. These legislators say the state needs an ultimate penalty for society's most brutal crimes. "She's an extremely sincere person and has deeply held beliefs that we should not be putting people on death row," said Sen. Gerald Cardinale, R-Demarest. "I have no argument holding that position. [But] I don't think that's the right thing to do with the perspective of crime. I think we are extremely lenient with crime in this country." Death penalty opponents, however, say there is a growing grass-roots support for change in New Jersey. "The groundwork here is good," Prejean said. "I think that politicians are learning that you don't get any leverage out of supporting the death penalty." They have made their case throughout the state, pressing the issue on several levels, she said. "What's been going on in New Jersey is education, education, education," Prejean said. Prejean dismissed critics who say New Jersey should leave well enough alone as the state has not executed anyone since 1963. "Anyone who says that has no comprehension of what it means to take a conscious human being and let him sit on death row for 17 years," she said. For now, New Jersey can't execute anyone because of a state appeals court ruling last year. Judges sided with death penalty opponents and ordered corrections officials to rewrite execution regulations. The court said doctors should be on hand in the event a sentence is overturned on appeal after a lethal injection is administered. Death penalty opponents fear that once the regulations are rewritten, one of the 14 inmates on death row will be executed. Several have exhausted state and federal appeals. "The majority of the people now are rethinking the death penalty as far as whether it's a deterrent and also whether it's fair and just. More people are concerned now that they may make a mistake and execute an innocent person," said Sen. Shirley Turner, D-Mercer, who sponsored the moratorium bill. Those in favor of the moratorium also point to a recent study that said that by scrapping the death penalty, the state could save nearly $250 million by eliminating the lengthy appeals process. "Look what we could do with all that money that we would save. We could do a lot with fighting those elements that contribute to crime," Turner said. In six years, the group New Jerseyans for a Death Penalty Moratorium has grown to 10,000 members and hired a paid staff of five to work on the effort, said the group's executive director, Celeste Fitzgerald. 3 of the five staff members have had family members murdered, she said. "People come to the issue for many different reasons." she said. "Nearly all are driven by the fact that there are innocent people on death row. Others are simply against it because the process is so terribly harsh for the families of victims." Eddie Hicks agrees. 5 years ago, his daughter Jamilla, 26, was murdered after she tried to break up a fight between her brother and another man. That man killed her, Hicks said. The defendant was not sentenced to death, but prosecutors considered it, he said. "To have the state kill somebody and then say that killing is wrong doesn't make sense," said Hicks, of Atlantic County. "Violence isn't the solution to any problem." Larry Peterson isn't on death row, but he was telling lawmakers his story Thursday. 18 years ago, a jury decided against the death penalty for Peterson and sentenced him to life in prison for killing a Burlington County woman. In July, Peterson became the 1st person in New Jersey to have his conviction overturned by DNA evidence. "It's just a privilege to be here," Peterson said. "I'm just grateful, blessed to be able to be here." (source: North Jersey Media Group) IDAHO: Sun Valley students debate death penalty in moot court The "Supreme Court of The Community School" entered session Thursday, Dec. 8, to determine the constitutionality of the death penalty. "The strong precedent established over the last few years indicates the death penalty is less and less acceptable," said Anja Sundali, a senior. Utilizing an actual legal case in a moot court format, students of the Interpretations of Law and Literature class at the private Sun Valley-based school experience democracy at work. This week, student teams examined the Matthew Poncelet murder case to argue the constitutionality of the death penalty and the law's application in Idaho. "The class makes them look at the nuances of the law, rather than philosophically talk about the law," said Phil Huss, the class teacher. Citing a number of legal decisions, Sundali presented the opening argument for the defense to a panel of students serving as Supreme Court justices. "The death penalty in all cases is unconstitutional," Sundali said. Guiding the anti-death-penalty argument, the defense team asked the justices to consider a predisposition to discrimination based on poverty and a lack of education. "Poncelet did not have the financial means to hire an adept lawyer. He had a court-appointed lawyer, who had never served in a capital case," Emily Stephens said. Senior Ross Campbell responded on behalf of the plaintiff's team, arguing in favor of the death penalty. Upon completion of the opening statements, the panel of 4 justices probed the teams, delaying the court session for another day. The justices vote at the completion of the arguments. All students are then required to reconsider the case by writing their own opinion. The opinions must be based on precedent, the constitution and interpretive practices. The interpretive practices call on methods used to examine literature. The approach awakens students to different interpretations of the constitution. "There are different ways to get a meaning. Once you are aware of those, you can read the constitution with new lenses," Huss said. The students use the lenses to study five legal issues throughout the semester. Using the moot court format the class debates affirmative action, abortion, gay rights, the death penalty and assisted suicide. "They leave the course knowing exactly what they believe about these arguments," Huss said. (source: Idaho Mountain News) FLORIDA: Killer resentenced for crimes in 1984----Man receives 3 consecutive life terms Duane Owen -- a balding, pudgy, middle-aged rapist and murderer -- believes he is a female trapped in a man's body, his attorney said Thursday. So when Owen attacked his victims, he thought the women's hormones would somehow be transferred. At a resentencing hearing Thursday, defense attorney Chris Haddad told Palm Beach County Circuit Judge Krista Marx that mental experts concurred that Owen's life of excruciating torture and abuse led to such severe mental problems that he had no chance at normalcy. "He was completely out of touch with reality and so disturbed that he had no hope of trying to straighten out his life," Haddad said. Owen was back in court to be resentenced on burglary and attempted-murder convictions stemming from three incidents at women's homes during a 1984 crime spree that included the murders of two south county women. Owen attacked 2 of the women, leaving one brain damaged. An appeals court ruled that Owen had a right to a new sentencing as a result of a sentencing guideline technicality at the time of his convictions. Marx was unmoved by Haddad's call for mitigation. Calling the details of the crimes the stuff of nightmares, Marx handed down three consecutive life terms -- virtually the same sentence he got in the 1980s. Owen was polite to the judge and showed no visible reaction to the decision. Still, the sentence doesn't change Owen's situation: He is inching closer to execution for the two crimes that landed him on death row. Authorities said he skulked around a secluded Delray Beach home where Karen Slattery, 14, was baby-sitting on March 24, 1984. After waiting until the children went to sleep, Owen slit a window screen, entered, and jabbed a knife into Slattery's back and neck 18 times. As the teen drowned in her own blood, Owen raped her, showered and left. 2 months later, he broke into the Boca Raton home of Georgianna Worden, 38, whom he raped and beat to death with a hammer. Owen's death penalty appeals have been winding through the state and federal court system, Assistant Attorney General Celia Terenzio said. He has only a couple of appeals remaining before a death warrant can be signed in the Worden case, she said. The Slattery sentence had previously come back on appeal, but Owen was resentenced to death in 1999. Owen had the sort of unimaginable upbringing that no one would wish on their worst enemy, Haddad said Thursday. Owen and his brothers regularly witnessed their father rape their mother as she begged for mercy, Haddad said. His mother drank herself to death and his father committed suicide. For a time, Owen lived in an orphanage, where other children sexually assaulted him, Haddad said. By age 8, Owen and his brother began subjecting other children to sexual perversions. His sexual deviance came from years of painful experiences that resulted in schizophrenia, a sexual identity disorder, brain damage and a low IQ, Haddad argued. Nonsense, said prosecutor Wayne Chalu. Owen is nothing more than a sociopath motivated by an anti-social personality disorder. (source: Sun-Sentinel)
