May 22
TEXAS:
Execution Drugs to be State Secret Under Legislation Headed to Governor
Manufacturers of execution drugs will be shielded from public scrutiny, helping
to keep Texas' capital punishment machine in working order, under a bill headed
to the governor's office. On Tuesday, Senate Bill 1697 cleared its final hurdle
with a favorable vote in the House. If signed into law by the governor, as
expected, the bill will keep information about anyone who participates in
executions or supplies execution drugs confidential.
"This bill is about trying to protect innocent people who are just doing their
job," said Rep. John Smithee (R-Amarillo), the bill's House sponsor, on
Tuesday.
That rationale was voiced numerous times by supporters as the bill moved
through both chambers, but there's little evidence that Texas Department of
Criminal Justice (TDCJ) personnel or suppliers of execution drugs are at risk.
The names of those involved in carrying out executions have never been revealed
by TDCJ. The real issue is whether citizens should be able to access
information about lethal-injection drugs. Until last year, the identify of
lethal-injection drug suppliers could be acquired through a public information
request. In May 2014, then-Attorney General Greg Abbott ruled that TDCJ could
keep the information secret. The ruling came after the Department of Public
Safety sent Abbott a "threat assessment" report that claimed "publicly linking"
a supplier or manufacturer of execution drugs would present "a substantial
threat of physical harm" and "should be avoided to the greatest extent
possible."
That decision was a shift from 3 previous rulings in which the attorney
general???s office had found that TDCJ failed to prove that disclosing the
information would create a substantial threat of physical harm.
The May 2014 ruling came as Texas' supply of execution drugs was rapidly
dwindling. In 2012, the state turned from a 4-drug cocktail to a single
injection of pentobarbital. According to a Texas Tribune timeline, by August
2013 TDCJ had only 4 vials of the drug remaining, prompting the state to turn
to compounding pharmacies, lightly regulated facilities that typically mix
drugs for individual patients. In October 2013, the Woodlands Compounding
Pharmacy requested that TDCJ return pentobarbital it had sold to the agency
after the company began receiving unwanted media attention. In a letter to
TDCJ, Jasper Lovoi, the owner of Woodlands, said he had been made to believe
that his company's role in supplying the drugs would be kept private.
"I find myself in the middle of a firestorm that I was not advised of and did
not bargain for," Lovoi said in the letter.
During the House debate on SB 1697 Tuesday, Smithee said that manufacturers -
such as compounding pharmacies - are refusing to sell lethal injection drugs to
Texas and other states because of "threats of violence." But when Rep. Terry
Canales (D-Edinburg) asked him to elaborate on those threats, Smithee couldn't
provide examples. Canales is the author of a stalled bill that would require
TDCJ to post information about execution drugs, including the manufacturer, on
the agency's website.
A similar exchange took place during debate in the Senate last week. Sen. Joan
Huffman (R-Houston), SB 1697's author, said that when information about the
manufacturers of execution drugs was previously disclosed, it had a "chilling
effect on reputable pharmacies wanting to provide these compounds to the state
of Texas." She said that investigations by the Texas Department of Public
Safety (DPS) had led to the determination that "credible threats" had been
directed at suppliers of lethal-injection drugs. But when pressed, Huffman
couldn't cite specific examples. No details of the DPS investigations have been
made public.
According to Austin-based attorney Philip Durst, lawmakers have been unable to
point to specific threats because there haven???t been any. Durst is one of the
plaintiff's attorneys in an ongoing lawsuit against TDCJ seeking disclosure of
the name of a particular compounding pharmacy supplying execution drugs to the
state.
Durst told the House Corrections Committee at the end of April that based on
his assessment of evidence provided by TDCJ and DPS during the lawsuit, there
have been no threats of violence against drug suppliers or manufacturers in
Texas or in any other state.
Evidence presented by TDCJ in its motion for summary judgment includes emails
to drug suppliers that read more like scoldings than threats and a link to a
blog post about the Woodlands Compounding Pharmacy that includes an
illustration of an exploding head. The post encouraged readers to write reviews
of the pharmacy on Google+, sign a petition and contact the American
Pharmacists Association.
A state district court sided with the plaintiffs in December 2014 and ordered
TDCJ to reveal the name of the lethal injection drug supplier. TDCJ has
appealed the decision, but if SB 1697 is signed into law the entire suit could
be rendered moot.
Ultimately, "threats" against pharmacies appear to have little to do with the
legislation passed yesterday. Even House Corrections Committee Chairman Jim
Murphy (R-Houston) called the threat argument a "straw man." The primary
impetus for the law, which both Smithee and Huffman acknowledged in debate, is
preserving executions in Texas. Death penalty opponents have seen public
shaming of drug suppliers as a potential Achilles' heel for execution-happy
states. TDCJ has a better chance of acquiring the necessary drug supplies if
companies are promised secrecy.
Maurie Levin, an attorney involved in the lawsuit against TDCJ, says what???s
most troubling about SB 1697 is that it shields the agency and the execution
process from demands for transparency or accountability.
"For Texas, of all states, to carry out secrecy in executions is a frightening
thought," Levin said. "And I have no doubt that at some point it will come back
and bite us."
(source: Texas Observer)
PENNSYLVANIA:
Lawyers for convicted killer Smyrnes want info about death row
Attorneys for a convicted killer said they plan to research death row living
conditions more before deciding whether to challenge the constitutionality of
Ricky Smyrnes' death sentence.
More information about the day-to-day life on death row is being sought from
Smyrnes, 29, formerly of Irwin, and the state prison in Greene County where he
is being held.
Smyrnes was convicted in the February 2010 torture slaying of Jennifer
Daugherty, a mentally-challenged woman killed by six Greensburg roommates.
Smyrnes is 1 of 2 men sentenced to die for his role in Daugherty's stabbing. He
has been on death row since his 2013 conviction.
"We will speak with our client more in depth concerning that," Attorney Brian
Aston told Judge Rita D. Hathaway Thursday afternoon during an evidentiary
hearing on Smyrnes' post-sentence motions.
Aston and James Fox have been appointed to act as Smyrnes' appeal attorneys.
They filed the motion in February that seeks to overturn the death sentence and
Smyrnes' 1st- and 2nd-degree murder convictions.
In their appeal, the attorneys state that the sentence violates Smyrnes' rights
because he is subject to solitary confinement for 23 hours daily. SCI-Greene
houses a majority of the state's 188 male death row inmates.
Earlier this year, Gov. Tom Wolf issued a moratorium on capital punishment
while a commission charged with reviewing the state's death penalty completes
its work. Conditions in which condemned inmates are housed will not change, the
governor said.
Death row inmates are kept segregated from the rest of the prison population
and they have "a certain degree" of access to research materials and their
attorneys, said Bruce Antkowiak, a law professor at St. Vincent College near
Latrobe.
Pennsylvania has carried out 3 executions, all of inmates who waived their
appeals, since 1976 with the last in 1999.
Avoiding execution is the biggest goal for appeal attorneys, Antkowiak said.
"You don't know if you represent someone on death row whether the mood of
things will change," Antkowiak said. "Having a defendant who is on death row is
the ultimate challenge for any lawyer. The stakes couldn't be any higher than
they are.
"Any attorney who accepts the court appointment on a case like this - your duty
is clear," he said.
Attorneys argued other issues in the appeal Thursday.
The prosecution said Smyrnes was the leader who took votes from the group of
roommates as to whether Daugherty should be tortured, then killed and how her
body should be discarded.
Aston argued that prosecutors' use of torture as an aggravating factor in the
capital phase was improper because the decision to kill Daugherty came in a
"family meeting" with the 6 co-defendants that occurred after she was tortured
during 2 days of captivity.
"You have this torturous behavior that did exist, but it wasn't present at the
time of the intent to kill," Aston said.
Assistant District Attorney Leo Ciaramitaro argued that torture was a proper
aggravating circumstance because Smyrnes did wield the murder weapon - a knife
- at one point in time, even if he didn't inflict the fatal blow.
In addition to Smyrnes, Melvin Knight was convicted of 1st-degree murder and
received the death penalty. Prosecutors presented trial evidence that Knight
inflicted the fatal stab wound.
Smyrnes' attorneys called the credibility of prosecution witness and
co-defendant Amber Meidinger, 25, into question.
"The defense should've been permitted to explore" whether Meidinger was taking
her medication and if that had an impact on her memory and perception of what
was occurring, Fox argued.
Ciaramitaro responded that the trial attorney spent time questioning
Meidinger's recollection of the events during cross-examination.
Other issues include claims by the defense that Hathaway improperly admitted
testimony from Meidinger and limited a psychologist's testimony.
According to the defense, the prosecution should not have been allowed to argue
to the jury that crimes Smyrnes committed as an 11-year-old could be used in
deciding to sentence him to death. Hathaway ordered the attorneys to submit
written legal briefs.
Angela Marinucci, then 17, also was convicted of 1st-degree murder. She was
sentenced to a life term but is scheduled to return to court this year to be
resentenced.
Meidinger, along with 2 other co-defendants, pleaded guilty to 3rd-degree
murder and received lesser sentences, although each will spend at least between
30 and 40 years in prison.
(source: triblive.com)
GEORGIA:
Future Of Ga.'s Death Penalty Unknown Due To Drug Shortage
Former Supreme Court Justice Norman Fletcher discussed his opposition to the
death penalty during an interview with Rose Scott and Denis O'Hayer on ''A
Closer Look.''
As Nebraska lawmakers voted to ban the death penalty this week, the future of
capital punishment in Georgia has also been called into question. That's not
due to lawmakers ready to ban it - but because the lethal injection drugs used
for killing the state's worst criminal offenders are hard to come by.
State corrections officials are not revealing when executions might resume in
Georgia after they encountered problems with the lethal injection drugs earlier
this year.
Judge Norman Fletcher, the former Chief Justice for the Georgia Supreme Court,
talks on ACL about the death penalty.
Former Georgia Supreme Court Chief Justice Norman Fletcher opposes the death
penalty and would like to see it banned in Georgia.
The drugs are so hard to come by now because manufacturers have mostly refused
to sell the needed drugs to states for use in executions. That raises questions
about the future of the death penalty - or at least lethal injection as a means
of execution - in the 32 states where executions are still legal, including
Georgia.
If former Georgia Supreme Court Justice Norman Fletcher had his way, he would
ban the death penalty in the state altogether, like conservative lawmakers in
Nebraska did on Wednesday.
Fletcher explained why during an interview on "A Closer Look."
(source: WABE news)
***************************
Anti-death penalty group spreads awareness in Dawson
An anti-death penalty group tries to increase social activism in South Georgia.
"The most important thing for me is to get people involved, especially men of
color," said Dorinda Tatum, Lead Organizer for the Georgians for Alternatives
to the Death Penalty.
Georgians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty held an open forum in Dawson
last night.
Group leaders are traveling around the state spreading awareness about the
death penalty and what they say is common police brutality against black men.
They're encouraging young people to join their group and others like "black
lives matter" to voice their concerns.
"There are strength in numbers," said Tatum. "You can get things done when you
have a group of people coming together for one purpose."
"To know how to contact their policy makers, to know how to engage their
pastors and other community leaders and to really connect with the cause," said
Troyia Sampson, Organizer.
The group is headed to Savannah next month and Athens in September.
(source: WALB news)
******************************
Killer finds solace in scholar
A few months ago, Kelly Gissendaner wrote a letter to a pen pal across the
Atlantic. She told him the state of Georgia was about to fix a date for her
execution. One evening soon, she would be strapped to a gurney, needles would
be inserted into her arm, and poison would course through her veins until she
was dead.
The letter arrived a few days later at the home of an 88-year-old man in
Tubingen, Germany. After reading it, he took one of his white handkerchiefs,
folded it neatly and placed it in an envelope to mail to Georgia's death row.
"When the tears are coming," he wrote, "take my handkerchief."
The man in Germany was Jurgen Moltmann, an eminent theologian and author who
met Gissendaner in prison in 2011. The two have kept in touch through letters
ever since.
The circumstances of their lives are vastly different. And yet, they found
commonality. Toward the end of the war, he surrendered to the first British
soldier he encountered. For nearly three years, he was confined to
prisoner-of-war forced labor camps.
It was in those camps that he began to ponder the brutality of war. The guards
often nailed photographs of concentration camps to the prisoners' huts, forcing
them to confront the horrors of the Holocaust. He lost both faith and hope in
German culture, his remorse so great that sometimes he wished he had died on
the battlefield.
He began to read the Bible for the 1st time behind barbed wire in Kilmarnock,
Scotland. He likes to say now that he did not find Christ, but that Christ
found him in his sadness and desperation, when he was utterly without
aspiration. Prisoners who had been professors before the war often taught other
POWs, and Moltmann began to study Christianity. He says the camp often felt
like a monastery. He describes it as "an existential experience of healing our
wounded souls."
When he was finally freed, he returned home to Germany and, against his
father's wishes, studied theology. He went on to become a professor, and a
pastor. But the scars of a frightened, lonely prisoner of war stayed in his
heart.
So when he first came across Gissendaner, he understood how she, too, had found
God and theology. How she, too, had been without hope until then.
Gissendaner had been sentenced to die in 1998 for recruiting her then-boyfriend
Gregory Owen to kill her husband, Doug Gissendaner.
The crime was horrific.
Georgia prosecutors said Gissendaner, a mother of 3, wanted her husband gone so
she could claim 2 life insurance policies worth $10,000 and take charge of an
$84,000 house. Owen stabbed Doug Gissendaner to death; his body was recovered 2
weeks later. Prosecutors argued before a jury that Kelly Gissendaner had her
husband murdered out of "pure greed."
She went to prison a selfish and arrogant woman who, by her own admission, put
on a tough persona to shield herself from the hideous truth. Many chaplains she
interacted with over the years have described her as such.
But in the same year Gissendaner was sentenced to die, the Atlanta Theological
Association started a yearlong program in which women prisoners could earn a
certificate in theological studies. The association was an alliance of
seminaries, including the Candler School of Theology at Emory University, where
Moltmann has been a visiting professor.
Her friends say Gissendaner had already begun to transform herself by the time
she enrolled in the program a dozen years later, in 2010. She was the only
student from death row. Georgia has no other women facing execution.
One of the professors in the program was Jenny McBride, who recalled that by
the time she met Gissendaner, "she was, in the words of the Apostle Paul, a
'new creation.' "
Inmate and professor read together the words of Rowan Williams, then the
archbishop of Canterbury. Healing and restoration, Williams wrote, can only be
achieved through facing the "ruins of the past" and building from it a present
and future.
McBride, who now teaches at Wartburg College in Iowa, said Gissendaner
confronted the actions of her past. She admitted to plotting the murder and
expressed deep remorse to her children and her husband's family.
"I lost all judgment," Gissendaner wrote in her application for clemency
earlier this year. "I will never understand how I let myself fall into such
evil, but I have learned firsthand that no one, not even me, is beyond
redemption through God's grace and mercy. I have learned to place my hope in
the God I now know. ..."
It was during the second semester of the theology course, McBride said, when
Gissendaner first learned of Moltmann, reading the German pastor's most
well-known work, "Theology of Hope."
Moltmann's journey from prisoner of war to eminent scholar brought him to a
reality centered on hope. Biblical hope, he said, is not a hope that gives up
on life but rather one that looks for something better in the here and now.
He speaks of the resurrection of Jesus Christ and the future it proclaims. He
writes that a true Christian sets out to transform the present rather than fear
the future.
Gissendaner was deeply affected by Moltmann's theology.
"Do you think I can write to him?" she asked McBride.
"Absolutely."
And so she began a conversation.
Dear Jurgen,
I hope this letter finds you well rested after lecturing in many countries. I
do think you are amazing to still be lecturing and sharing your wisdom and
knowledge with so many others. For those who hear you I know it's a blessing to
them. If I ever get the opportunity to just meet you I would be in awe. To be
able to sit down with you and have a conversation with you would be truly
amazing!
Gissendaner got her wish.
Soon after receiving her letter, Moltmann visited the Candler School in Atlanta
to deliver a special lecture on the 400th anniversary of the publication of the
King James Bible. The next day, Gissendaner would be graduating from the
theology program at her prison in northeast Georgia. Moltmann drove the 70
miles from Atlanta to Lee Arrendale State Prison to speak at her graduation
ceremony.
"Your community is important for me. Therefore I came," he told Gissendaner and
her fellow inmates. "When I first heard of your study of theology in prison,
pictures of my youth and of the beginning of my own theological studies emerged
from the depth of my memory. Yes, I remember."
Gissendaner spoke of the hunger she felt for theology.
"This theology program has shown me that hope is still alive and that, despite
a gate or a guillotine hovering over my head, I still possess the ability to
prove that I am human," she said in her speech that day.
"Labels on anyone can be notoriously misleading and unforgiving things. But no
matter the label attached to me, I have the capacity and the unstoppable desire
to accomplish something positive and have a lasting impact," she said.
"Even prison cannot erase my hope or conviction that the future is not settled
for me, or anyone. ... I have placed my hope in the God I now know, the God
whose plans and promises are made known to me in the whole story of the life,
death and resurrection of Jesus Christ."
Helen Prejean, a Catholic nun who has been ministering to death row inmates for
three decades, says she understands what drew Gissendaner to Moltmann's
theology.
Moltmann bridged what Prejean describes as a common disconnect between
institutional religion and a person who is suffering. He also took the time to
write to her, to give her back her dignity.
"It's an affirmation of her humanity and her potential," Prejean says.
One time, Prejean says, a death row guard told her the state was executing a
man who he knew was different than the murderer who had walked in years ago.
But that didn't matter.
"You are freeze-framed in an act. And the state is freeze-framed in killing,"
says Prejean, who recently testified against the death penalty for Boston
bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev.
Prejean, the subject of the movie "Dead Man Walking," likens Moltmann's beliefs
to the Liberation Theology of Latin America, which swept up the Catholic Church
in a struggle to fight 20th-century injustices suffered by the poor.
"He connected hope to the way Jesus talked about the kingdom of God, of our
collaboration with people who are suffering now," Prejean says. "That's what
Pope Francis is doing. One week after he became Pope, he was in a prison
washing the feet of prisoners. It's solidarity with all human beings."
Prejean says she has no doubt Francis would approve of Moltmann's relationship
with Gissendaner.
"He'd do it himself if he could," she says. "He'd drive up the Popemobile to
death row."
More than 500 members of the clergy and other religious leaders have signed a
petition asking the state to spare Gissendaner's life, saying she has embraced
Christianity and is no longer the person who had her husband killed. Two of
Gissendaner's children also have spoken on her behalf. But Doug Gissendaner's
family remains resolute in the wish to see her die. And they're not alone.
"Doug is the true victim of this pre-meditated and heinous crime," his family
said in a statement issued in March. "We, along with our friends and supporters
and our faith, will continue fighting for Doug until he gets the justice he
deserves no matter how long it takes."
Phil Wages, pastor at Winterville First Baptist Church near Atlanta, is among
those who stand with the victim's family. He says he would never put his name
to a petition seeking clemency for Gissendaner.
"Absolutely, I believe in the power of the Gospel to change anybody from a
sinner to a saint, from having a heart of stone to heart of flesh," Wages says.
"But I don't think change negates what the state of Georgia decided. There was
enough evidence to convict her and give her the death penalty. Change does not
get her a 'get out jail free' card."
Wages was an officer in the Gwinnett County Police Department in 1997 and
watched his colleagues bring in Gissendaner after her arrest. He says he is
glad she turned to God.
"I think a lot of men and women behind bars would not have otherwise been
interested in the Bible had they not been in such a difficult place," he says.
"It does take suffering sometimes for people to begin to think about spiritual
things."
But he does not agree with the theology that drew Gissendaner to Moltmann's
teachings.
"Moltmann believes God suffers with us," Wages says. "This is not the
understanding of the church for thousands of years. I would argue that God is
transcendent. He is above creation. Therefore, he can't suffer with us."
Back in Germany, Moltmann, now old and feeble, knows he may never again see the
woman greatly touched by his theology. Her first execution date was set for
February 25 but was delayed because of inclement weather. She was taken to the
death chamber again on March 2.
Moltmann prepared a candlelight ceremony with his family. He wanted to thank
God for Gissendaner's life and ask forgiveness for her sins.
Gissendaner was given a last meal: cheeseburger, fries, ice cream. Then at the
last moment, her life was spared again after authorities noticed a problem with
the lethal drug phenobarbital.
A third date has not yet been set. Georgia has postponed executions until it
determines what went wrong with the drug. Several other states have done the
same. Public opinion has shifted against capital punishment, imposed still in
32 states. The Nebraska Legislature voted Wednesday to repeal it.
Moltmann feels God's providence can be tricky. He argued with God after the
State Board of Pardons and Paroles denied Gissendaner's plea for clemency.
"When the delays came," he says, "I had the feeling God was answering my
prayers."
He thought about the handkerchief he had sent across the Atlantic. Gissendaner
had written him back after it arrived. She told him it was the most heartfelt
gift she'd ever received in her nearly 17 years on death row. She was beyond
touched, she told him.
He wondered if prison officials would allow her to hold onto that little piece
of cloth. If they knew what it meant to her. And whether, in the end, it would
bring her a modicum of peace.
(source: CNN)
FLORIDA:
Jury selection begins for man charged in transvestite's death in Riviera
Beach----Man, 25, faces death penalty for allegedly shooting 2 transvestite
prostitutes and killing another
What started as a seemingly chance meeting between a pair of transvestite
prostitutes and a motorist 3 years ago will culminate this week in a death
penalty trial for the 25-year-old man accused of killing 1 transvestite and
shooting at yet another minutes later.
The start of jury selection today means Luis Rijo De Los Santos will become the
1st Palm Beach County defendant to stand trial in a death penalty case in 2
years, accused of killing Tyrell Mashae Jackson and also facing attempted
murder charges in the shooting of Jackson's friend Michael Hunter and the
subsequent shooting of Terence Emmanuel Chatman in Riviera Beach.
The 12-member jury that Circuit Judge Glenn Kelley, prosecutor Lauren Godden
and defense attorney Marc Shiner expect to pick in the case will be introduced
beginning next week to the surviving victims in the case - all cross-dressers
with violent pasts, including a 6-foot-3 man whose pre-trial interview once had
to be rescheduled when a confrontation with Shiner nearly came to blows.
They will also hear Rijo De Los Santos' claims that he acted in self-defense.
And if they convict him, jurors will meet a number of Rijo De Los Santos'
relatives in the Dominican Republic and Puerto Rico who will describe an
idyllic upbringing much different than the hard-scrabble tales of woe that
color most penalty phase hearings.
"Self-defense or not, this is a strange, strange case," veteran defense
attorney Shiner said Wednesday of Rijo DeLos Santos. "It's fair to say I've
never had a case close to this one before."
But just why the Dominican native would leave his girlfriend asleep at home and
come to such a violent confrontation with the trio of transvestites is still
unclear from court records and initial arrest reports in the case.
In the early hours of March 24, 2014, after Jackson was pronounced dead at St.
Mary's Hospital, Hunter gave investigators the following account from his own
hospital bed:
Hunter and Jackson were walking north on the 4400 block of Broadway in West
Palm Beach earlier that night, both dressed as women. Hunter told Jackson his
feet hurt and suggested they flag down a ride back to Jackson???s house in
Riviera Beach.
Soon afterward, a man later determined to be Rijo De Los Santos picked them up
in his silver SUV and agreed to take them home. When they got to Riviera Beach,
Hunter asked Rijo De Los Santos to take them to a convenience store, and
according to Hunter it was when they tried to get out of the car that the
driver pulled out a semiautomatic gun and began shooting.
Hunter was shot in the arm. Jackson was shot at least 3 times and died.
Less than 20 minutes later, West Palm Beach police received another report of a
shooting, this time in the 2000 block of North Dixie Highway. Chatman, another
prostitute dressed as a woman, was shot in the hip and told police his shooter
took out a gun as soon as he got in the car with him.
"You got in the wrong (expletive) car," Chatman told police the gunman said.
After Rijo De Los Santos' indictment on 1st-degree murder, attempted murder and
felony murder charges, then-interim Palm Beach County State Attorney Pete
Antonacci announced that prosecutors would be seeking the death penalty against
Rijo De Los Santos.
Antonacci alone made the decision to seek death - a switch from the policies of
his predecessor Michael McAuliffe and current top prosecutor Dave Aronberg, who
both use committees to determine which cases to pursue capital punishment.
State Attorney's Office spokesman Mike Edmondson this week said Aronberg's
committee did not make a separate review of Rijo De Los Santos' case after
Aronberg took office in 2013.
Either way, Rijo De Los Santos' trial marks the 1st death penalty case to go to
trial in Palm Beach County since the 2013 trial of Bruce Strahan, accused of
killing his estranged wife and two others in Lake Worth. A jury recommended a
life sentence for him after just a half hour of deliberation in the penalty
phase of his case.
The last local jury to recommend a death sentence locally was a 2009 federal
jury, which voted unanimously for a death sentence for Ricardo Sanchez and
Daniel Troya for the deaths of 3- and 4-year-old brothers who were part of a
family gunned down on Florida's Turnpike over a drug debt.
Shiner will argue that Rijo De Los Santos acted in self-defense in both cases,
and that the shootings were not 2 separate events but rather an ongoing defense
of himself against a trio of transvestite prostitutes who were actually
together when he first met them. He will argue that they produced knives and
tried to rob him, forcing him to shoot.
Shiner this week said all 3 victims have criminal pasts, including Hunter,
whose pretrial interview with Shiner and former prosecutor Cheryl Caracuzzo
once had to be postponed because Hunter took offense at something Shiner said
and nearly punched him.
Jury selection in Rijo De Los Santos' case is expected to last until the middle
of next week.
If Rijo De Los Santos is convicted, Kelley ruled that he'll take a week-long
break before the penalty phase of the trial. Shiner had asked for a break of at
least 2 weeks.
(source: Palm Beach Post)
*******************
Doctors: Early brain injuries could have contributed to Davis' killings
Barry Davis' defense team is counting on his abnormal brain to keep him out of
a cell on Florida's death row.
Expert witnesses in the fields of clinical psychology and neuropathology
testified Thursday that head injuries Davis suffered at an early age had caused
traumatic brain injuries. Those injuries could well have turned him aggressive
and affected his judgment and impulse control.
Coupled with growing up mostly unloved on the mean streets of Los Angeles,
anxiety and depression brought on by a failing relationship and injuries Davis
suffered playing football, boxing and in ATV accidents created a deeply
disturbed individual, doctors Julie Harper and Joseph Wu told jurors.
The testimony, solicited by attorney Michelle Hendrix, came on the 2nd day of
the death penalty phase of Davis' trial. He was convicted Monday of killing
South Walton County resident John Gregory Hughes and his girlfriend, Hiedi Ann
Rhodes of Panama City Beach.
Brain injuries to a young person are potentially more harmful later in life
because the brain still is developing, Wu told jurors. A PET scan of Davis'
brain indicated an abnormal frontal lobe area, he testified.
"The frontal lobe is most susceptible to brain injuries that impact judgment
and impulse control," he said. "A damaged frontal lobe is like driving a car
when the brakes aren't working."
Outside factors such as the environment one grows up in can exacerbate problems
stemming from the brain injuries, Wu told the jury.
"I think Mr. Davis has several factors present," he testified.
On cross-examination, prosecutor Bobby Elmore confirmed that Wu was well
briefed in the grisly details of the murders of Hughes and Rhodes, including
the beatings they suffered, the effort to make sure they were dead by placing
their heads in a bathtub and the dismembering and burning of their bodies.
"Do you believe these deaths were the results of an impulse action?" Elmore
asked.
Wu mostly shied from answering what he termed Elmore's "philosophical"
questions. But when asked if a person with traumatic brain injury can
understand that it's wrong to murder, he answered, "there's a different type of
knowing."
"You can know murder is wrong but have the inability to regulate certain
impulses," Wu said.
Today is expected to be the last day of testimony in the 2nd phase of what has
been a 4-week trial. The jury then will be asked to return with a
recommendation to have Davis either sentenced to death or to life in prison
without the possibility of parole.
Walton County Circuit Judge Kelvin Wells will impose the sentence, but by law
he must give great weight to the jury's recommendation.
(source: Panama City News Herald)
KENTUCKY:
Judge denies mistrial request in death penalty case
A Superior Court judge has denied a mistrial request from a defense attorney
after a juror who was previously selected was excused in the death penalty
case. The jury selection process is in its 10th week.
One of Carl Kennedy's attorneys, Robert Campbell, requested a mistrial Thursday
from Judge Christopher Bragg in Davidson County Superior Court but was denied.
He presented the request in open court after Bragg granted an excusal to
Davidson County assistant district attorneys on a juror seated in March who
claimed Wednesday anxiety has been an issue over the possibility of giving
Kennedy the death penalty as she has waited several weeks for the trial to
start.
Kennedy and 2 others - David Earl Manning and Leigh Williams, both 44 - have
been charged with 3 counts of 1st-degree murder in the November 2011 deaths of
Sharon F. Rushing, 61, Angela Dawn Soles, 43, and Gary Lynn Seward, 52, all of
101 Rotary Lane in Thomasville. The state is seeking the death penalty against
all 3 people, but Kennedy's case is being tried first.
Attorneys selected their 11th juror Wednesday as they hoped to find the needed
12 jurors and 2 alternates to start the trial. The decision for Bragg to allow
the state to utilize 1 of its 12 excusals means there have only been 10 jurors
seated through the 10th week of the trial.
Campbell requested Bragg consider granting the defense additional excusals if
the court decided not to declare a mistrial Thursday. The defense attorney
argued excusing the juror, who was the 2nd seated in the process, would
prejudice Kennedy and his defense team as they were following a game plan with
their excusals.
Bragg granted an additional excusal to the defense after he didn't grant the
mistrial. That means the defense attorneys have used 11 of their now 13
excusals, and the state has utilized eight of its 12 excusals. Bragg chose not
to excuse the juror wanting to be dismissed for cause. The judge has the
authority to release prospective jurors for cause when he thinks they are not
capable of serving in the case. The numbers for being released for cause by the
judge are limitless.
While the attorneys typically receive 12 excusals to pick 12 jurors, they
receive a total of two excusals to choose the two alternates. An excusal allows
each of the sides in the case to dismiss a juror when they believe the person
should not serve on the jury.
Thursday, the juror who was dismissed said it would be difficult to serve on
the jury because of the possibility of sentencing someone to death. This juror
said views changed as time has passed by in the past nine weeks since she was
initially seated.
Jury selection continues Friday as the attorneys work to pick the rest of the
jurors. Once the trial begins, the parties involved believe the case will take
4 weeks or more.
(source: The Dispatch)
TENNESSEE:
State prosecutor says there is no meaningful death penalty in Tennessee
One local state prosecutor says there is a problem with Tennessee's death
penalty.
District Attorney General Barry Staubus said the most recent example is a death
row inmate dying last week of natural causes.
Donald Strouth had been on death row for a Sullivan County murder for three
decades, making him the state's longest-serving death row inmate.
Staubus said a more than 30-year appeal process is too long.
Tennessee is 1 of 32 states with the death penalty.
According to the Death Penalty Information Center, right now, there are 73
people currently on death row in the state.
6 people have been executed since 1976, the last execution was in 2009.
Tennessee ranks 12th in the number of people on death row in the country.
It ranks 21st in the number of executions.
I talked with attorneys on both sides of the issue to find out what they think
should be done about the death penalty in the volunteer state.
"Is there a just way for human beings to kill other human beings? I don't
know," Steve Wallace, Sullivan County public defender said.
It's a question that's been debated for decades.
In 1978, the same year Tennessee reinstated its death penalty, a jury convicted
and sentenced to death 19-year-old Donald Wayne Strouth for the murder of 70
year old shop-owner James Keegan.
"And until he passed away he was still on appeal, 2015," Staubus said.
37 years after his death sentence, Strouth died of an apparent heart attack,
not by execution.
"I think that undermines the credibility of the criminal justice system. I
think it's difficult for families and victims' families to deal with that long
of an appellate process," Staubus said.
Strouth's execution date had recently been postponed until 2016.
"I just think that the cases need to be expedited in a more timely manner, and
I know there's some movements in appellate courts to do that but there's still
a huge backlog of these cases," Staubus said.
We talked with Robert Dunham, executive director of the Death Penalty
Information Center, who said what's happening in Tennessee is reflecting a
trend nationwide.
"I don't think the fact that Tennessee has not executed people recently is
particularly extraordinary, I say that because executions are at a 20 year low
in the United States," Dunham said.
Wallace said he remembers when Strouth was sentenced. He said at the time the
state sought the death penalty for almost all murders.
But now, "I don't think it's a bad thing that the death penalty is used
infrequently," Wallace said.
With the appeals process he said, "It's a big consumer of judicial time that's
one of the biggest problems with the death penalty."
He said his solution would be to get rid of the death penalty.
We also talked with Larry Dillow, the defense attorney who represented Strouth
in 1978.
He told me at that time he never expected Strouth would be on death row this
long.
Right now all executions in Tennessee are on hold due to a pending lawsuit
where death row inmates, including Strouth, questioned if the state's lethal
injection process is constitutional.
(source: Allie Hinds, WJHL news)
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