April 15
TEXAS:
Death Row's Race Problem----The case of a Texas death-row inmate, now before
the Supreme Court, points to the troubling racial history of capital punishment
Time may be running out for Duane Buck, a death row inmate in Texas since 1997.
Next week the U.S. Supreme Court will consider whether to hear Mr. Buck's
latest - and likely last - appeal. His argument largely rests on the use of
damaging racial speculation during the sentencing phase of his trial. Mr.
Buck's supporters claim he is being executed because he is black. That is a
stretch, given the facts of his crime, but his case does present a substantial
challenge to the death penalty as it has been applied historically.
There is no disputing Mr. Buck's guilt, though the more gruesome details have
been airbrushed from the briefs and petitions now propelling his appeal. 21
years ago, Mr. Buck forced his way into the home of Debra Gardner, an
ex-girlfriend, and began shooting. Within minutes, 2 people (both black) were
dead and another (also black) was critically wounded. Ms. Gardner's 13-year-old
daughter jumped on Mr. Buck's back to stop him, screaming, "Duane, don't shoot,
don't kill my mama," while Ms. Gardner pleaded for mercy from her knees. In the
police car, Mr. Buck joked about the killings, telling one officer, "The b- got
what she deserved."
An execution seemed likely. Mr. Buck's rampage involved a double murder; 1 of
the victims was a mother; he had a previous conviction for cocaine; and he
showed no remorse. Most important, the crime occurred in Harris County, Texas.
Since 1976, when the Supreme Court reinstated capital punishment following a
short moratorium, 537 of the 1,434 executions in the U.S. have occurred in
Texas. Harris County, home to greater Houston, has accounted for 126 of them -
24% of Texas' total. (The total for Travis County, home to more liberal Austin,
is 6.) Were Harris County a state, it would rank 2nd, behind only Texas itself,
in the number of executed offenders. Its prosecutors have been well-versed in
managing capital cases and well-funded in guiding them to completion.
The jury deciding Mr. Buck's case quickly found him guilty. But trouble arose
in the sentencing phase. In 1976, the Supreme Court had fretted over, but let
stand, a section of the Texas death penalty statute that requires jurors to
determine whether the defendant is likely to "commit acts of violence
constituting a continuing threat to society." In short, it asks jurors to
speculate about someone's future conduct in a decision involving life and
death.
Psychologist Walter Quijano, an expert witness called by the defense, testified
that Mr. Buck was a model prisoner who had committed a crime of passion that he
was unlikely to repeat. But Dr. Quijano's written assessment contained
"statistical factors" defining Mr. Buck's behavior, and 1 of these was race.
Being black, he thought, increased the "probability" of violent behavior in the
future.
During cross-examination, the prosecution focused on this part of Dr. Quijano's
report, asking him if it was correct that "the race factor, black, increases
the future dangerousness for various complicated reasons." Dr. Quijano answered
"yes."
Dr. Quijano couldn't be reached to comment. In 2013 he told CNN, "They pick
that one piece of testimony and twist it and make it look like race causes
people to commit crimes, which is stupid."
Some believe that Dr. Quijano was simply stating an unfortunate truth.
Black-on-black violent crime is epidemic in metropolitan areas, including
Harris County, where the homicide rate is 3.1 per 100,000 inhabitants for
whites, and 16.6 per 100,000 for blacks. It is no surprise, therefore, that
blacks comprise 43% of the death row inmates in Texas, while making up barely
12% of the state's population.
But there is a deeper, more troubling racial dimension to such cases. According
to data from the Death Penalty Information Center, 72% of the nation's
executions since 1976 have occurred in the 11 former slaveholding states of the
Old Confederacy, where lynchings and executions were routinely employed as
methods of racial control. Between the end of the Civil War in 1865 and 1976,
87% of those executed in Mississippi were African-Americans, a figure slightly
above the overall Southern average of 80%. Most Southerners put to death for a
nonlethal crime in those years were blacks accused of robbing or sexually
assaulting a white. Historians of the era have found a long record of
trumped-up rape cases, like the one portrayed in the novel "To Kill a
Mockingbird."
A few years ago, the NAACP's Legal Defense Fund hired criminologist Ray
Paternoster to study the impact of race on death penalty prosecutions in Harris
County during the 1990s, when Mr. Buck's trial occurred. He found that
prosecutors were 3 times more likely to seek the death penalty for blacks than
for whites under similar circumstances. What he didn't consider - because it
had no direct bearing on Mr. Buck's case - is perhaps the key factor in death
penalty cases: the race of the victim.
Previous studies have shown that defendants are far more likely to be
prosecuted for capital murder and sentenced to death when the victim is white.
In places like Harris County, this still holds true. According to the Texas
Department of Criminal Justice, the majority of African-Americans from Harris
County on death row were convicted of killing a white, despite the high number
of black-on-black homicides in the Houston area. (Indeed, Mr. Buck himself was
offered a plea deal of life in prison for his double-murder, but he refused.)
Equally important, every white awaiting execution from Harris County was
convicted of killing another white. Here are signs that white lives do matter
more than black lives, at least in capital cases.
Change may be coming. Texas currently houses 246 death row inmates, but the
pipeline that supplies them appears to be closing. In 1999, Texas juries sent
48 defendants to death row; in 2015, they sent just 3 - none of them
African-American and none from Harris County.
Many reasons have been given for this shift - the enormous cost of
death-penalty cases, the racial imbalance, the stories of innocent men removed
from death row. But the best explanation may be the law passed in 2005 that
offers the option of life in prison without parole. Increasingly, Texas juries
are taking advantage of it, regardless of the prosecutor's recommendation.
What about Duane Buck? In 2000, Texas Attorney General John Cornyn (now a U.S.
senator) identified a half-dozen other capital cases in which Dr. Quijano
testified about the dangers posed by minority defendants, noting that it was
"inappropriate to allow race to be considered as a factor in our criminal
justice system." 5 of the 6 defendants received new sentencing hearings; all
were resentenced to death. But the state's next attorney general, Greg Abbott
(now governor), opposed a similar hearing for Mr. Buck on the grounds that Dr.
Quijano had been a witness for the defense. Thus, "Buck's constitutional rights
were not violated because Buck himself presented the testimony about which he
now complains."
Even if granted a new hearing, Mr. Buck likely will be executed. But to deny
him a chance, given the inflammatory content of Dr. Quijano's words and the
distressing racial history of capital punishment, would be a mistake. It is now
up to the Supreme Court to see the larger picture, beyond the technicalities of
who testified for whom, while nudging justice forward along the way.
(source: Prof. David Oshinsky is a member of the history department at New York
University and the director of Medical Humanities at NYU Langone Medical
Center. His book "Polio: An American Story" won the 2006 Pulitzer Prize for
history----Wall Street Journal)
VIRGINIA:
Gov. McAuliffe death-penalty plan revives legal issues over pharmacy-supplied
drugs
Pharmacies that go along with Gov. Terry McAuliffe's plan to secretly supply
Virginia with execution drugs risk breaking state and federal laws governing
controlled substances, a top administration official said in internal emails
going back more than 2 years.
McAuliffe, a Democrat, this week proposed allowing the state to hire
compounding pharmacies to make lethal-injection drugs, which have become scarce
amid public pressure on American pharmaceutical companies and a European export
ban.
He proposed a similar idea last year, but it collapsed in the General Assembly
because of concerns over the secrecy provisions meant to shield the pharmacies
from political heat. Given the increasing scarcity of the drugs, the plan may
have a better chance of being approved when the legislature reconvenes
Wednesday.
The state's top official for pharmacy oversight flagged problems with the idea
as early as 2014, according to emails obtained by The Washington Post.
"Under federal law, a traditional pharmacy ... may only compound pursuant to a
valid prescription," Caroline Juran, executive director of the Virginia Board
of Pharmacy, wrote in a February 2014 email. "This bill as written authorizes a
pharmacy to compound upon written certification by the Director of the
Department of Corrections. This would obviously not constitute a valid
prescription."
But the McAuliffe administration said state and federal courts have
consistently ruled that executions do not constitute the practice of medicine,
pharmacy or anesthesiology, so the normal rules should not apply.
"Virginia's not the 1st state to do this," said McAuliffe's top counsel, Carlos
Hopkins. "To the extent that we're following the practices of other states, I
don't believe it will be a conflict."
Juran did not respond to requests for comment.
In her emails, she wrote that if a doctor wrote a prescription for
lethal-injection drugs, that would probably violate state and possibly federal
laws requiring that drugs be prescribed only for medicinal or therapeutic
purposes. And she questioned whether the secrecy provisions would prevent the
Bureau of Prisons from investigating a pharmacy if something went wrong with an
execution.
Juran consulted William Harp, executive director of the Virginia Board of
Medicine, on the proposal.
"Is there anything in [the] law that would prohibit a prescriber from issuing a
prescription which 'does harm'?" she wrote to him. "Or is the oath of doing no
harm just that?"
Harp replied with examples of unprofessional conduct enumerated in state code.
The offenses can result in the suspension or revocation of a medical license,
imposition of fines or other punishment by the Board of Medicine.
"Well, let's see ........... probably only #8 below," he wrote. The offense he
referred to reads: "Prescribing or dispensing any controlled substance with
intent or knowledge that it will be used otherwise than medicinally, or for
accepted therapeutic purposes, or with intent to evade any law with respect to
the sale, use, or disposition of such drug."
McAuliffe's current proposal would address that issue by exempting pharmacies
that compound the lethal-injection drugs from normal state oversight.
A 2012 ruling by Richmond Circuit Judge Gregory Rupe appears to support that
approach. "Specifically, the Court rules that execution by lethal injection by
the Commonwealth of Virginia is not the regulated practice of medicine,
pharmacy or anesthesiology," he wrote.
The exemptions nevertheless inflamed civil libertarians.
"This is authorized human experimentation in secret without any professional
oversight," said Claire Guthrie Gasta???aga of the American Civil Liberties
Union. "The director of the Department of Corrections is now going to be able
to work with people and get drugs, and all they're expected to do is make sure
it's listed on the outside of the bottle when it expires."
Administration officials said federal courts have supported the idea that
normal medical and pharmaceutical regulations governing compounding pharmacies
do not apply to the mixing of execution drugs.
"Four states have successfully proceeded with this legislation, and no court
has accepted the arguments against this legislation," said Brian Moran,
Virginia's secretary of public safety and homeland security.
But Megan McCracken, a lawyer with the Death Penalty Clinic at the University
of California at Berkeley School of Law, said federal laws would still apply.
"[W]hile Gov. McAuliffe's proposed bill would exempt the purchase and provision
of compounded drugs from the requirements of VA law, the transaction would
nonetheless violate federal law," she wrote in an email.
Christopher C. Kelly, a spokesman for the federal Food and Drug Administration,
declined to comment.
(source: The Virginian-Pilot)
GEORGIA:
Joshua Bishop, executed March 31, was a 'powerful witness for forgiveness'
Joshua Bishop, who died by lethal injection March 31, was remembered by his
faith community, friends and supporters at a funeral Mass celebrated April 12
at St. Pius X Church in Conyers by Father Tom Zahuta.
Bishop, who became a Catholic in prison, regularly attended Mass and other
faith gatherings. He met with visiting deacons in the Jackson prison,
particularly Deacon Richard Tolcher and Deacon Norm Keller. He was 41.
Following the Mass, he was interred at Honey Creek Woodlands, at the Monastery
of the Holy Spirit.
The night of the execution, a vigil was held on the grounds of the Georgia
Diagnostic and Classification Prison. A group of 50 or more people, some coming
from the Catholic Chancery in Smyrna, prayed and waited for the possibility
that there would be a last-minute reprieve based on legal appeals. Those
waiting included Bishop's attorney and a corps of young law students, some
wiping away tears, chaplains from several Christian denominations, others who
visited Bishop, and those opposing the death penalty. Over several hours the
group prayed Psalm 23 and the Our Father and sang "Amazing Grace." The names of
those who have been executed in Georgia were read aloud. People spoke about
Bishop, who was quick to attend every religious service and friendly. He had
developed a talent with art in prison.
Bishop grew up fatherless in Milledgeville, witnessing the addiction of his
mother and violent abuse taken out on her and he and his brother by her
boyfriends. He tried to protect her. The boys were homeless or lived in foster
homes. He had 16 different placements in 10 years. When he was 19, he was
involved in the killing of Leverett Morrison, along with another defendant,
over a car. His co-defendant, who allegedly struck the fatal blow to Morrison,
received a life sentence with the possibility of parole. Bishop, who
immediately confessed to that and the killing of one of his mother's alleged
abusers, received the death penalty.
While in prison for the next 22 years, he found stability, the care of others,
role models and faith, his lawyer wrote.
"The person Josh Bishop has become bears little comparison to the teenager
whose life was defined by the dismal circumstances in which he was born and
raised; a teenager whose view of life was so contorted that he devalued life
itself," attorney Sarah Gerwig-Moore said in a plea for clemency before the
state Board of Pardons and Paroles.
"In the Josh we now know, we see a kind human being of humility, compassion and
gratitude. ... He is a simple man of quiet and positive influence, and his life
has touched others even since his imprisonment."
"We plead to this Board for clemency," she wrote. "The prolonging of his life
would serve a far greater purpose than would the taking of it."
His "is a life that can be held up to others as a living example of the extent
to which lives in a state of loss and addiction can be transformed into ones of
meaning, purpose and hope."
Archbishop John F. Donoghue baptized Bishop into the Catholic faith in October
1999. Bishop said he was drawn to the faith by the kindness of Diana
Shertenlieb, who began writing letters to him because he was the youngest
person on death row. Through letters and eventually visits, she and her late
husband, Gary, and their children made Bishop as much a part of their family
life as was possible. Bishop also found acceptance and help through the
ministry of the late Father Austin Fogarty.
When Father Fogarty passed away, Bishop sent a letter to The Georgia Bulletin,
describing the compassion he and others on death row received from the priest
and how he was like the father Bishop needed. His remembrance was published in
February 2014.
Archbishop Wilton D. Gregory visited Bishop in recent months and Bishop
participated in a Holy Thursday liturgy at Jackson on March 24, Deacon Tolcher
said.
Before heading to Jackson on the night of the execution, people prayed in the
chapel at the Chancery for Bishop. Father Kieran reiterated the message of
Bishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa, "There is no future without forgiveness."
Bishop "is an example of what an incarcerated person should achieve - healing
and reconciliation for past evil and sin," Father Kieran said. "Josh could
become a powerful witness to society for forgiveness and reconciliation - a
model for others to follow. Instead his life is to be ended."
"Our Lord Jesus demonstrated that forgiveness and reconciliation work. By grace
the sinner can reform and mend his ways. Why then does our criminal justice
system deny the opportunity for the convicted person to reform? ... We must
seek a better way. We must go beyond opposing any one execution. Rather we
should oppose the whole system. We must stand up for our preeminent Catholic
doctrine which holds that everyone has the right to reform and mend their moral
life."
The denial by the Board of Pardons and Paroles for clemency struck Deacon
Tolcher deeply. "What is the parole board for" if Bishop's case didn't merit
clemency, he asked. "I believe in reality they are an extension of the law
instead of being merciful."
An older man at the vigil outside the prison wiped away tears and said, "The
man they want to kill died a long time ago. He isn't the same man."
(source: Georgia Bulletin)
FLORIDA:
Should death sentences be reconsidered under new law?
A Florida man convicted of murder is now trying to avoid the death chamber.
He's citing a new law just signed by Gov. Rick Scott.
The families of murder victims are fighting back saying convicted killers don't
deserve a lighter punishment.
It's all up to the jurors now. 10 out of 12 jurors must now recommend the death
penalty.
In Mark Asay's case, only nine recommended death, so if his trial took place
today he would receive life in prison.
Now the question is will this new law allow inmates like Asay already on
Florida's death row to push for a resentencing.
That's why a Bay area woman wants to make sure the man who killed her daughter
and grandchildren stays on death row.
"It's been almost 8 years and it's still hard," said Barbara Freiberg.
Freiberg's daughter Lisa and her two children Zachary and Heather were murdered
by Edward Covington in May of 2008. It was considered one of the horrific
crimes in Hillsborough County history.
"The worst monster that could possibly be," said Freiberg.
The convicted killer's trial took a serious toll on Freiberg and her family.
"It was very hard for all of us my son wouldn't even go in the courtroom,"
Freiberg said.
Covington is just one of hundreds of death row inmates awaiting execution here
in Florida. Covington was handed his death sentence last May, Freiberg says any
possibility of a lesser punishment is not an option.
"I believe he should be put to death because it's like the old testament and
eye for an eye I mean he did it to my children why shouldn't it happen to him,"
said Freiberg.
And the idea of going through any kind of retrial or resentencing.
"It would be horrible I would not want to go through it again I would not want
to be in the same room with him again," said Freiberg.
Covington cried in court when the judge gave him death.
Freiberg said, "Your crying for yourself not for my children and you're going
to get what you gave them and your upset about it."
She said, "Knowing that the sentencing was finally over it kind of gave a
little bit of normalcy back."
Having her family's lives turned upside down again, Freiberg says would be like
reliving the nightmare.
"If Covington all of a sudden does not get the death sentence I would be upset.
At least I pray to god it doesn't," said Freiberg.
Retrying these cases would also take a toll on taxpayers.
If a convicted murderer is granted a resentencing that hearing could cost the
courts thousands of dollars. But, if a whole new trial was granted that could
cost in the tens of thousands of dollars.
(source: WTSP news)
LOUISIANA:
Former caregiver admits to beating toddler to death
Facing a possible death penalty for the 2013 death of toddler Rizcheir "Riri"
Muskelly, Tarika Wilson chose to save her own life, accepting a plea deal for
1st degree murder on Thursday.
"I was kind of upset because I really wanted her to get the death penalty, but
she's going to have to think about my baby for the rest of her life," the
victim's mother Debbie Muskelly said following the plea.
Wilson is a former friend who acted as guardian for Muskelly's three youngest
children while Muskelly served time out-of-state for a parole violation.
Muskelly said she still has questions about the day, June 17, 2013 when her
3-year-old daughter was admitted to University Health, the toddler's small body
covered in wounds from an extension cord lashing.
A Shreveport crime scene investigator previously testified that approximately
75 % of the child's body was covered in injuries, fresh and old, and "the only
places I didn't see wounds were the bottoms of her feet." Doctors found the
fatal blows had caused Riri's blood to pool under her skin, effectively causing
the child to bleed to death inside her own body.
Wilson's family members had told investigators their matriarch practiced
corporal punishment, and the accused herself said to investigators about Riri's
beatings that "fifteen minutes would change her life."
It's a case that's haunted prosecutors and defense attorneys alike. Former
acting district attorney Dale Cox said it was child killingcases like
Muskelly's that affirmed his belief in the death penalty, and he vowed to seek
lethal injection for any child death case that met the legal requirements.
District Attorney James Stewart inherited the case when he took office in
December, and two of Wilson's former defense attorney are now on the DA's
staff. Stewart could not be reached for comment on the case, but the office
first notified the victim's family of a possibly plea arraignment in early
January.
Wilson admitted her guilt to a small audience Thursday morning. Most of the
onlookers came to the Caddo courthouse to support the accused, a fact that the
victim's mother said "kind of made me mad."
A few of Wilson's friends and family wept as the 36-year-old Shreveport
resident entered the plea, outfitted in a standard CCC orange jumpsuit,
thick-rimmed glasses, and her hair pulled into 2 braids.
Yet, there were no tears for the young victim. Muskelly had to leave the
courtroom early, too angry to look at the woman who killed her youngest child.
"I just want to know why," Muskelly told her victim advocate Lesley Lacy. "But
I have to hear it from Tarika."
Muskelly says she wants to sit down with Wilson. But those questions will wait.
Lacy said Wilson will be transferred to Louisiana Correctional Institute for
Women in St. Gabriel. Once she's there, trained facilitators can reach out to
Wilson on Muskelly's behalf, asking if she's interested in writing or speaking
to the victim's family.
"It's kind of a long process, but I have people say it's worth it," Lacy said.
Muskelly says she's leaving Shreveport in the fall. Most of her other family
has left as well, including Riri's sisters, Queenie and Hallelujah, who were
also living with Wilson at the time of the murder.
"They're affected every day, but they know she's not coming back," Muskelly
said of Riri before one final thought on Wilson, "And neither is (Tarika). She
got what she deserved. She didn't get what I want, but now that's between her
and God."
(source: Shreveport TImes)
OHIO:
Suspect in Ohio officer's killing passes on initial hearing
The suspect in the death of an Ohio police officer gave up his right to an
initial court hearing, a prosecutor said Thursday, giving both sides more time
to research the case, including whether the death penalty is appropriate.
The decision by Lincoln Rutledge means the state now has nearly 2 months before
an indictment must be issued.
The extra time will allow Columbus police to complete their investigation and
Rutledge's attorneys to present evidence they believe argues against a death
penalty, said Franklin County Prosecutor Ron O'Brien.
"Then we have the best information available to us in order to make that
decision," he said.
Ohio law includes killing a police officer as a factor that can lead to capital
punishment.
In recent years O'Brien, a Republican, has only sought the death penalty for
cases he believed were strong enough that a jury would vote for death.
A message was left with the public defender's office representing the
44-year-old Rutledge. He'll likely receive a new lawyer once an indictment is
filed.
Thursday morning, dozens of police cruisers escorted slain Columbus SWAT
officer Steven Smith's body from the Franklin County coroner's office to a
funeral home. Smith, 54, a 27-year veteran of the department, died Tuesday, 2
days after being shot.
Columbus Mayor Andrew Ginther and other city officials stood at attention with
their hands over their hearts as the procession went by City Hall.
Smith was an organ donor upon his death, according to the Franklin County
coroner's office.
Smith was shot in the head while inside a SWAT vehicle early Sunday outside
Rutledge's apartment in a neighborhood north of Ohio State's campus. Officers
were attempting to arrest Rutledge on a charge of trying to set his wife's home
on fire the day before.
Rutledge's mental health is bound to be an issue in the case and would weigh
heavily on a decision whether to seek the death penalty.
Rutledge told an Ohio State University co-worker last month he was not taking
his medication, made a comment about "eating a Glock" and accused his co-worker
of being a federal agent, according to a March 22 report from the OSU police
department.
During the co-worker's visit, "it became apparent that Rutledge may have been
in the midst of a mental breakdown," the report said.
On March 28, Rutledge's wife told Columbus police he had been diagnosed with
depression and "lately has been 'increasingly detached from reality,'"
according to a Columbus police report.
Ohio State said Rutledge, a computer network engineer, had not been at work
since Feb. 1 when he requested and was granted a leave of absence. His access
to buildings was revoked March 23 "when he began to behave erratically while on
leave," the university said.
(source: Associated Press)
***************
Mom Accused of Killing Sons Seeks No Death Penalty, 3 Trials
An Ohio woman accused of suffocating her three sons out of jealousy at the
attention her husband gave them is asking a judge to toss her confession, split
the case into 3 trials and remove the death penalty as a possibility.
The Dayton Daily News ( http://bit.ly/1qKfFVS ) reports that lawyers for
23-year-old Brittany Pilkington filed 6 motions April 1. Prosecutors had 20
days to respond.
A judge previously denied removing the death penalty option. The new motion
seeks a dismissal based on a January ruling by the U.S. Supreme Court. The
defense is questioning the constitutionality of Ohio's capital punishment laws.
Pilkington's trial is scheduled to start in October.
The Bellefontaine woman pleaded not guilty to 3 counts of aggravated murder.
Prosecutors say Pilkington confessed to the killings.
(source: Associated Press)
TENNESSEE:
Man freed by DNA speaks at Cleveland State against death penalty
Ray Krone was sentenced to die for a murder he didn't commit.
On Dec. 29, 1991, police in Phoenix found bartender Kim Ancona stabbed to death
in the men's bathroom at the bar where she worked, naked except for her socks
and with bite marks on her chest and neck.
Krone, an Air Force veteran and U.S. Postal Service worker with no criminal
record, hung out at that bar. Someone there told police that Ancona was
romantically interested in Krone, and soon investigators knocked on his door,
saying he was her boyfriend.
Krone told them he barely knew the woman. They weren't dating, and he
definitely didn't kill her.
But 2 days later, they took him to jail.
And he didn't leave for another 10 years, 3 months and 8 days.
That's when DNA evidence proved another man committed the crime. Proved
prosecutors were wrong. That 2 juries were wrong. That the expert who testified
that Krone's mouth matched the bite marks on the woman's neck was wrong.
Krone spent 3 years on death row in an Arizona prison, in isolation, shackled
any time he left his cell.
He told his story to a crowd of about 50 people at Cleveland State Community
College on Thursday night during a panel discussion with groups opposed to the
death penalty. Panelists from Conservatives Concerned About the Death Penalty
and Tennesseans for Alternatives to the Death Penalty also spoke during the
event.
Now 59 and living in a town about an hour east of Knoxville, Krone recounted
the series of missteps, false assumptions and outright unethical behavior by
prosecutors and investigators that led to his conviction.
He explained how, when he first went to jail, his initial worries were
practical - who would feed his dog? What about next week's softball game? He
was supposed to pitch.
"I really believed they were going to find out that I told the truth and I'd be
out in a minute," he said. "And that turned into an hour, and that turned into
days and then weeks."
The other panelists followed Krone's story with a series of anti-death penalty
arguments tailored for a conservative crowd. It's expensive, said Marc Hyden, a
national advocacy coordinator for Conservatives Concerned About the Death
Penalty. And research shows it's not a deterrent to crime, he said.
In the 2013-2014 fiscal year, the average daily cost to house a Tennessee
Department of Corrections offender was $74, while housing a death row offender
costs $118, according to Tennesseans for Alternatives to the Death Penalty.
There are now 67 people on Tennessee's death row.
"I found I could no longer support the death penalty because it clashed with my
principles of pro-life policies, fiscal responsibility and limited government,"
Hyden told the crowd.
Krone was released on April 8, 2002 - 1 day after the Phoenix newspaper
published an in-depth story about his situation.
He became the 100th person to be exonerated from death row since the death
penalty was reinstated in 1976. That number is close to 150 now, Krone said,
and three of those people were in Tennessee.
"And that's just the ones we know about," he said.
Krone has been advocating against the death penalty since his release. He never
married, never had children. He's been with the same woman for 9 years.
And, in some ways, he's lucky.
He spent only 10 years in prison, when some people spent decades. He went in
when he was 34. Not 18, like some people.
He still gets angry, sometimes. But every time he sees something positive come
from his experience - every time someone from a crowd he's spoken to stays late
to shake his hand - it helps.
(source: timesfreepress.com)
_______________________________________________
A service courtesy of Washburn University School of Law www.washburnlaw.edu
DeathPenalty mailing list
DeathPenalty@lists.washlaw.edu
http://lists.washlaw.edu/mailman/listinfo/deathpenalty
Unsubscribe: http://lists.washlaw.edu/mailman/options/deathpenalty
