May 17
TEXAS: Prosecution Seeks Death Penalty In Tyler Man's Trial Prosecutors are seeking the death penalty against a 29-year-old Tyler man accused of killing 2 people. During a partial pretrial hearing in 114th District Judge Cynthia Stevens Kent's court, the judge said Smith County District Attorney Matt Bingham filed a notice of intent to seek the death penalty in the capital murder case of Korrenthin Dwayne Baker. Baker and Timothy Johnson, 54, were each charged with capital murder and 3 counts of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon for the Sept. 26 shootings. The judge ruled on several standard motions during Baker's hearing but postponed the remainder of the proceeding for next week. Baker is being represented by attorneys Jeff Haas and Leslie McLean. Johnson is set for a pretrial hearing May 25. Prosecutors have not filed a notice to seek the death penalty against Johnson. Baker's trial is set for Oct. 29 and Johnson's trial is set for Jan. 7, 2008. Early on the morning of Sept. 26, Tyler police discovered Gary Mosley, 49, dead in a chair on the front porch of 2410 Madison St., and Unnice Rogers, 41, dead inside the residence. Found critically injured were George Cain, 37, and Presley Williams, 49. Police have said that Baker was the shooter and Johnson drove the getaway car. Baker and Johnson were charged with capital murder for the 2 killings and aggravated assault for the 2 people who were shot but survived, as well as an additional aggravated assault count for allegedly threatening Donald Donaldson, who police have said was present at the time of the shooting. (source: Tyler Morning Telegraph) ******************** Death Penalty for Molesters May Bring More Problems Than Good ---- Texas' recent attempt to curb molestation brings punishments too tough to fit the crime. Last month, the Texas Senate passed a law allowing prosecutors to seek the death penalty for a 2nd offense in child rape cases. In the Texas House of Representatives' version of the bill, the death penalty would be mandatory for a second offense. While child molestation is certainly a heinous crime, it is not of the same magnitude as murder. More importantly, there are many practical reasons why this good-intentioned law is misguided. One of the main reasons given for mandating the death penalty for child rapists is that a potential death sentence would deter people from committing the crime. However, logic and numbers do not support this claim. Nobody would choose to rape a child thinking his sentence will only be 25 years to life if caught, and then decide not to because the punishment has increased to the death penalty. Furthermore, if raping a child had the same sentence as raping and killing a child, criminals would be more likely to kill the child and not worry about leaving live evidence behind. Moreover, according to statistics from the FBI Uniform Crime Report compiled by the Death Penalty Information Center, a majority of states without the death penalty have lower murder rates than states with it. While there are exceptions, the numbers suggest that the death penalty is ineffective at best when it comes to deterring crime. If the purpose of using the death penalty is to punish the child rapist, one must ask if the punishment fits the crime. Child rape is despicable, but the death penalty is not an appropriate punishment for a crime that does not result in the death of another person. In fact, the death penalty for child rape is likely unconstitutional, as the Supreme Court decided in Coker v. Georgia that the death penalty constituted cruel and unusual punishment for the rape of an adult woman. However, taking an extreme stance appears to be part of the purpose of this new law. In a statement during his inauguration, Texas Lt. Gov. David Dewhurst said, 'If you're going to commit an unthinkable crime against a child, we'll show you what Texas tough means.' The statement reeks of tough-guy mentality, and is certainly a poor justification for implementing the death penalty. Dewhurst needs to catch up with modernity because modern society does not regard killing defenseless prisoners as a way to increase one's manliness. The purpose of the legal system is not to make the government appear 'macho,' but to preserve order through reasonable means. Government officials must make reasonable judgments that serve the public interest, not enhance their image as Wild West vigilantes. However, the greatest flaw in this proposal is that the people who should benefit from any new legislation on child molestation - state prosecutors and rape victims - do not support it. Many district attorneys and victims' groups in Texas oppose this new law for several reasons, which should be an indication that it is not in the public's best interest. One reason given by district attorneys is that this law will make successful prosecutions more difficult, Shannon Edmonds, state lobbyist for the Texas District and County Attorneys Association said in a May 2 Time magazine article. Child molestation cases are already the most difficult for prosecutors to win. Anti-sexual-assault groups also oppose the death penalty for child rape. In a statement released on April 24, the Texas Association Against Sexual Assault said, 'Harsher punishments will not prevent Texas children, women or men from falling victim to sexual violence.' In fact, instead of improving the safety of the average citizen, the death penalty actually increases the risk to citizens wrongly accused and convicted of crimes. DNA testing has overturned many cases of rape and other crimes where the accused received a life sentence or the death penalty. According to the same Time article, two men convicted of adult sexual assault and freed on DNA evidence after a combined 27 years in prison visited the Texas capital. Had they been sentenced to death, there would have been no way for the state to make amends for its wrongful conviction. As Benjamin Franklin put it, 'It is better [100] guilty Persons should escape than that one innocent Person should suffer.' While appealing to people's baser instincts of vengeance with cheap political grandstanding apparently wins votes in Texas, it does not serve the best interests of Texas or the United States. Instead of a throwback to the Code of Hammurabi, what Texas and the rest of the country needs is a system for preventing sexual abuse before it happens. (source: The Guardian) *************** Killer of local womans father executed Kerrville resident Gwynn Hudson-Simmons waited 18 years for something that took 11 minutes to occur. That is how long it took for the man convicted of killing her father to die by lethal injection Wednesday night. Charles Edward Smith, 41, was convicted of fatally shooting Pecos County Sheriffs Deputy Tim Hudson in 1988. Smith had no last words before the lethal injection was administered at 6:30 p.m. He was pronounced dead at 6:41 p.m. Smith was the 14th Texas death row inmate to be executed in 2007. Smiths execution was confirmed Monday after he lost an appeal to the U.S Supreme Court, in which justices refused to review the case. Almost 20 years ago, Hudson, 61, was called out late on a Friday evening in August 1988 after 2 men stole $22.50 worth of gas from a service station in nearby Bakersfield. Smith, behind the wheel of a stolen van, and his cousin, Carroll Bernard Smith, now 50, had escaped from a Kansas prison just a week earlier. They also had license plates, credit cards and a .357 magnum revolver that were stolen from Houston. When Hudson tried to pass the van on the left, Smith fired three shots into the patrol car, one striking the deputy in the side, killing him. The Smith cousins abandoned the van in Coyanosa and set it on fire before stealing a tractor-trailer truck from a residence. A running gun battle ensued between the 2 men and authorities, including county and city officers, state troopers and a U.S. Customs helicopter. Smith was sentenced to death three times. The first two convictions were overturned by the Texas Criminal Court of Appeals because of alleged juror bias and errors in jury instructions. His cousin pleaded guilty after Charles Smiths first trial and is serving a life prison term. According to news reports from the 1st trial, at least 11 witnesses from Texas and Kansas testified for the prosecution about Smiths behavior and previous actions. One Pecos County jailer said Smith even attempted to escape the county jail, set fire to his blankets and destroyed jail fixtures while awaiting trial. Smith even was heard singing I shot the deputy to the tune of I Shot the Sheriffover the jails intercom. Hudson, 61, was a 30-year veteran of law enforcement working in several West Texas counties and cities, including Seminole, Midland, Stanton, Monahans and Hobbs, N.M. He also was a U.S. Marine veteran who served during World War II. (source: Kerrville Daily Times) ************************ Man executed for killing deputy Charles Edward Smith offered only "no, sir" as his final statement Wednesday as he became the 14th inmate to be executed in Texas this year. Smith, 41, was pronounced dead at 6:41 p.m., 11 minutes after the lethal dose began to flow. Smith had been scheduled to die at least twice before after being convicted in the August 1988 murder of 61-year-old Pecos County Sheriffs Deputy Tim Hudson. Smith, along with cousin Carroll Smith, escaped only 5 days before from a minimum security Kansas in Shawnee County. Appeals stayed Smith twice, but Monday the U.S. Supreme Court denied to hear his case. Shortly after friends and family members of Hudson entered the viewing room of the execution chamber at the Walls Unit, Smith looked over briefly through the glass and bars at Hudson's daughter, Gwynn Hudson Simmons, and former Pecos County Sheriff Bruce Wilson, who was sheriff at the time of Hudsons murder. "He turned his head and looked at us," Simmons said. "Bruce and I had talked about if this day ever came we wanted to be the last thing he ever saw. And we were." Witnesses both from Hudson's family and friends of Smith stared straight ahead in silence for the 11-minute execution. Only at one point did Simmons solemnly put her arm around Wilson. Smith was strapped to the execution gurney at 6:05 p.m., and 6 minutes later an IV was inserted into his right hand. Corrections officials were able to locate a vein in Smiths left arm after another 12 minutes. Smith confessed to Hudson's murder on 2 separate occasions, and said that one of his goals in life was complete with the murder of a sheriffs deputy. Smith never looked toward the few friends who had gathered to witness the execution. Witnesses from both sides stared straight ahead in silence. While his last statement was short, Simmons said she was not disappointed. "I think (not saying anything) was probably the smartest thing he could have done," Simmons said. "When you have someone that has shown no remorse ... what can be said? "I had no desire to talk to him. I don't think there's anything that he could have said to me that would have made any difference." Smith was remembered by jailers for singing the 1970s Eric Clapton rock song "I Shot the Sheriff and amending the words to say, "But in my case it was the deputy." "He's been a dangerous guy in jail as well," Simmons said. "He won't kill again. We can guarantee that 100 % at this point. Good job." After escaping in 1988, Smith, a native of San Bernardino, Calif., and Carroll Smith, from Houston, stole a truck and headed for Texas. They reached Houston and broke into several houses, stealing money, credit cards and other items, including the .357-caliber Magnum pistol evidence showed was the weapon used to kill Hudson, who had planned to retire in about 9 months. The pair, who had replaced the truck stolen from Kansas with a stolen van, got gas in Bakersfield in West Texas and drove off without paying. When Hudson tried to pull them over about 30 minutes later on Interstate 10 near Fort Stockton, Charles Smith opened fire. One of the shots went through Hudsons arm and into the deputys chest, fatally wounding him. Evidence showed Hudson, who had worked in law enforcement in West Texas and New Mexico for some 30 years, apparently didn't know the men in the van were escapees, that he never drew his gun and had just radioed the license plate number to a dispatcher. The shooting prompted an extensive hunt for the deputy's killers across West Texas that ended with a wild police chase and shoot-out, the fugitives smashing through police roadblocks with a tractor trailer truck they stole after ditching and burning their van. Some 60 officers and a U.S. Customs Service helicopter were involved in the pursuit that reached speeds of more than 100 mph. Charles Smith had served only about a year of a one- to five-year sentence for burglary, theft and aiding a felony. His cousin was serving seven to 25 years for burglary, theft and criminal damage to property. He was convicted of capital murder and sentenced to death. In 1992, his conviction was thrown out by the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals, which ruled the trial judge improperly denied a challenge from Smiths lawyer during jury selection. In 1995, the same appeals court threw out a second death sentence for improper jury instructions. 4 years later, he was sentenced to die a 3rd time. Smith declined from death row to speak with reporters in the weeks preceding his execution. Carroll Smith agreed to a life prison term and remains behind bars for his part in the shooting. 5 other Texas inmates have execution dates set for June, including the June 13 date set for Cathy Henderson. Henderson was most recently granted a stay in March. Henderson will be the 4th to be executed in Texas since the state resumed the death penalty in 1982. (source: Huntsville Item) ****************** Inmate locked up longer than any other Texas prisoner Harvey Stewart has spent 28 months in the free world since March 1951 meaning almost 54 of the past 56 years of his life were spent in prison. For some criminals caught up in the revolving door of the criminal justice system, prison is "college" the place they go to hone their skills between stints on the street. For Stewart, prison has been his whole career. Although he claims to be the man who brought the attention of the Texas Legislature to vice in Jefferson County, resulting in the James Commission's cleanup, his biggest undisputed distinction is being the oldest inmate in the Texas prison system oldest, that is, in terms of the length of his sentence. Dating from his entrance into the system in June 1959, the Texas Department of Criminal justice counts Stewart, 79, as the inmate who has been with them the longest. But it doesn't get him any deference from his fellow inmates or prison staff. "I'm just another one of the jailbirds as far as I can tell," he said recently in an interview at the Terrell Unit at Rosharon just south of Houston. Stewart was convicted in July 1958 of the shooting death of 26-year-old James Laird earlier in that year. He was sentenced to life in prison. Before that, he had served the better part of a 10-year sentence for armed robbery. When he looks back over his long years in prison the result, he will claim, of a wrongful conviction out of Jefferson County Stewart can't find much to show for his years on Earth. Although he rails against the alleged injustice done to him, he admitted without rancor that with the path he was on, he was probably destined to spend a good part of his life in prison anyway. Stewart was a thief, plain and simple. If he ever had any ambition for anything better for his life, he won't admit it. He said he didn't mind school, but having no real use for it, he dropped out after completing 8th grade. When asked what has kept him going through all the long years in prison, he flashed a contemptuous look. "I'm not weak. I'm not weak up here," he snapped, pointing to his head. He wouldn't let a little thing like a life without meaning or any real hope of ever getting out get him down. "It's come down to that," he said. "There's no need to get carried away about it. Have a fit. Go crazy. Hang myself. Stab myself. ... There ain't no need to be doing that." He has resigned himself to living out his days in prison, and he's not interested in discussing the details. But that doesn't mean he's at peace. "I'd have to be a raving idiot not to have any regrets," he said. He quickly dismisses the subject of changes he's seen in criminal justice in the past half century curtly as "subtle, immaterial." When pressed, Stewart grudgingly admitted disdain of the waves of drug addicts, child molesters and drunken drivers who fill prisons these days. "I'm a thief. That's what I was a hijacker," he said, proudly. "I wanted money. I didn't want any of this other mess. Getting drunk, using dope, I don't use it. I don't fool with it." He doesn't even want to linger over the brief time in the mid-1980s he spent in the free world. He mentions noting the novelty of a talking cash register but won't admit to any interest in the technological or environmental changes in the world between 1958 and 1985. The only subject that seems to interest him is his case. That, he can discuss as if it all happened a year ago, recalling names, dates and places in vivid detail. In his version, Laird's shooting was a simple matter of self-defense. He, Laird and another man had gone for a drive in Port Arthur, possibly to rob a brothel there, and Laird pulled a gun on him. They struggled, and Stewart shot Laird. However, investigators pieced together a story of ruthless underworld dealings that left 26-year-old James Laird, a "police character" in the parlance of the times, dead of a gunshot wound to the heart, according to old reports provided by the Jefferson County District Attorney's Office. Port Arthur Country Club employees on their way to work March 28, 1958, found Laird's body lying face-down alongside the road leading into the country club. He wore cotton gloves and had been gagged with a venetian blind cord. Laird had been seen with Stewart and another Houston man, Hubert Myers, the night before, partying in Port Arthur brothels. But when detectives found a blood stained note in the lining of Laird's jacket, the plot thickened. The note, scrawled on the back of a rent receipt, said: "To Whom It May Concern, I James E. Laird, if found murdered it will be by Harvey Stewart, Lee Myers and ordered by Sam Hoover (attorney) Pasadena, Texas, March 26, 1958." According to investigators' reports, still on file at the Jefferson County District Attorney's Office, Laird, Myers, Stewart and Hoover were all part of a loosely affiliated band of thieves who hung around the Eagles Club, a Houston bar. Hoover, a former mayor of Pasadena, had bailed Laird out of the LaGrange jail Feb. 26, 1958, mainly to keep him from telling law enforcement there what he knew about a robbery Hoover had planned. To make sure he wouldn't be left holding the $20,000 bag, Hoover applied for an insurance policy on Laird's life. Laird agreed to this, but when the doctor he went to for the obligatory physical only asked him his age and how he felt, he got spooked. At that point, he began to feel that his life was in danger. The policy fell through. But Laird knew too much. And after Laird "told something" to some pimps who beat his head against a wall, he was even more of a liability to the thieves. Stewart claimed these were all lies that Jefferson County investigators concocted. Although his appeals cite the admission of his confession, which he claimed was coerced, as a point of error in his trial, his testimony was not markedly different than what was in his confession. In both the written confession and Stewart's testimony, he claimed he fought Laird for the gun. Some evidence disputes this. One of the first officers at the scene, Deputy R.C. Graham, noted Laird's neat appearance, which belied a struggle had taken place. Crime-scene photos still in the possession of the Jefferson County District Attorney's Office preserve this neat appearance, down to the comb marks in his hair. A cigar butt was found on the ground next to his mouth, suggesting he had been smoking when he was shot and the cigar fell from his lips as he hit the ground. Stewart claims Jefferson County had it in for him. He said he was beaten and his confession coerced. He also claims that the jury was packed with the sheriff's cronies. Cecil Holstead, a 90-year-old Port Neches resident who was jury foreman on Stewart's trial, disputed Stewart's allegations. Holstead, who had just finished a term in office as Port Neches mayor, said he knew Sheriff Charley H. Meyer, and, like many, liked the personable lawman, but they were hardly close. He noted that the evidence and testimony the state presented were strong, and the jury was particularly swayed by the bloodstained note found on Laird. Numerous appeals over the years based on these issues, filed by Stewart without aid of a lawyer, have been rejected. Stewart claims that his case was the event that directed the attention of the legislature to Jefferson County's ills the result of petitions sent to Austin on his behalf. Stewart said that's the reason he's still in prison: because his case brought the heat of the James Commission down on the gambling, prostitution and attendant vices that plagued Jefferson County at that time. For years, Stewart complained that he was being denied parole because of protests coming from Jefferson County. Holstead said it is true that Jefferson County protested his parole each year after he became eligible and rightly so. The judge, district attorney and assistant district attorney who tried the case were all threatened by people associated with Stewart, Holstead said. Holstead, interviewed in his home a day before he celebrated his 72nd wedding anniversary, also noted Stewart's two escapes in the early years of his incarceration a more compelling reason for the delay. During one of Stewart's escapes, when Holstead was in the hospital and unable to protect his wife, 2 police officers sat in the Holstead's living room until the inmate was caught. Stewart became eligible for parole after serving nine years. And finally in 1985, he was paroled, despite whatever objections Jefferson County still had. However, Stewart only enjoyed 16 months of freedom. His parole was revoked for conspiring to commit bank robbery, a charge to which he cheerfully admits. Stewart claimed he needed to raise money for legal fees to beat the murder rap. Although he was out on parole, that wasn't enough for him. He didn't care to have parole officers breathing down his neck for the rest of his life term. He still comes up for parole, each year like clockwork. And each year since then he has been denied. He still sees the long arm of the law in Jefferson County at work in this. He freely admits he was operating outside the law, but he insists he was treated unfairly. "They had a game and we had a game ... they had their game and it was crooked, too." Again and again he returns to what was done to him, worrying it like an old bone, long stripped of any shred of meat. After so many years spent on writing appeal after appeal, it's his only subject. Stewart is bitter about his long incarceration but realistic about the path he had been treading previous to his murder conviction. When asked where he thought he would be if he had never set foot in Jefferson County, Stewart pointed northward. "Probably over in that next unit over there," he deadpanned. (source: Associated Press)
