Thursday, 16 August 2012
Governor Kasich of Ohio: Commute the death sentence of Donald Palmer
Donald Palmer is scheduled to be executed by the State of Ohio on September 20th, 2012.
We deeply sympathize with the family and friends of Charles Sponhaltz and Steven Vargo but respectfully offer that another death will neither heal nor resolve this tragedy.
We petition Governor Kasich to commute Mr. Palmer's death sentence to life without parole.
http://www.change.org/petitions/governor-kasich-of-ohio-commute-the-death-sentence-of-donald-palmer?
Governor of the State of Ohio: Commute the Death Sentence of Brett Hartmann
We the undersigned, urge the Governor of the State of Ohio, to commute the death sentence of Brett Hartmann.
Brett was sentenced to death on May 22, 1998 for the murder of Winda Snipes.
Many questions remain unanswered concerning the facts around this case, including phone records that place Brett at home at the time of the crime, untested evidence, and contradictory results where tests have been done.
Brett received poor representation at trial and had little investigation done on his behalf.
Trial lawyers (including his own), judges, and prosecutors involved in the case have all been accused and/ or convicted of wrongdoing in a variety of circumstances since Bretts conviction.
Many questions remain unanswered concerning the facts around this case, including phone records that place Brett at home at the time of the crime, untested evidence, and contradictory results where tests have been done.
Brett received poor representation at trial and had little investigation done on his behalf.
Trial lawyers (including his own), judges, and prosecutors involved in the case have all been accused and/ or convicted of wrongdoing in a variety of circumstances since Bretts conviction.
We deeply sympathize with the family and friends of Winda Snipes, but we respectfully offer that another death will neither heal nor resolve this tragedy.
An evil deed is not redeemed by an evil deed of retaliation. Justice is never advanced in the taking of human life. Morality is never upheld by legalized murder. Coretta Scott King
Action petitioned for; We the undersigned, urge the governor of the state of Ohio to act now and commute the death sentence given to Brett Hartmann.
http://www.change.org/petitions/governor-of-the-state-of-ohio-commute-the-death-sentence-of-brett-hartmann
Tuesday, 17 July 2012
Pen Pal needed
Robert is a 65 year old death row prisoner in PA, and he hasnt really got anyone. He has been on death row since 1988
If you can write to him it would be wonderful.
Robert Fisher AS-1738
S.C.I GREENE175 Progress Drive.
Waynesburg,
PA 15370
USA
Thursday, 12 July 2012
Writing to Penpals on Death Row
All those years ago before I decided to write to a death row inmate I though about it for many months before taking the first step . I asked myself so many questions , what if I dont like the person , can I be non judgemental , do I have what it takes to try and understand them , can I listen to whats being said to me , not just hear it . Do I have the staying power and the time and strength to give a 100% commitment .
We all have to learn how a death row inmate lives and how the death penalty is applied and to who .. when we have a knowledge of this we can begin to understand and to answer our own questions .
I have now been writing to my friend on Ohio death row for 7 years , its the best move I ever made.
These men and women on death row need friends , they have been judged by a jury so we dont judge them in anyway .. all they want and need from us is friendship , support , kindness and understanding and love , a letter once a week , just someone to use their name they know someone in the free world cares enough to write .
Anyone who is thinking of becoming a death row penpal , do it , you wont ever regret it , but you will be so glad you did .
If you want a penpal contact us at www.voicesfordeathrowinmates.biz
Linda Taylor
We all have to learn how a death row inmate lives and how the death penalty is applied and to who .. when we have a knowledge of this we can begin to understand and to answer our own questions .
I have now been writing to my friend on Ohio death row for 7 years , its the best move I ever made.
These men and women on death row need friends , they have been judged by a jury so we dont judge them in anyway .. all they want and need from us is friendship , support , kindness and understanding and love , a letter once a week , just someone to use their name they know someone in the free world cares enough to write .
Anyone who is thinking of becoming a death row penpal , do it , you wont ever regret it , but you will be so glad you did .
If you want a penpal contact us at www.voicesfordeathrowinmates.biz
Linda Taylor
The execution of John Byrd
(A column I wrote for The Cincinnati Post ... published Feb. 23, 2002)
LUCASVILLE, Ohio -- My reaction arose from neither familiarity nor sense of personal loss.
This hulking, hardened man with the Fu Manchu and massive arms blackened with crude prison tattoos meant nothing to me. We never had met since he refused my requests for an interview on Death Row.
Still, his entrance was a literal shock. The man who walked into the eerily dim room at 10 a.m. Tuesday was a stranger, albeit one about whom I had written nearly 70 stories.
The first time I laid eyes on John Byrd Jr., he had nine minutes to live.
Without urging or assistance, he slid onto the table and lay his arms onto the extensions as the execution team went about its grim work of strapping him down.
Once the IV lines were inserted into the pre-fitted vein shunts, the man behind the glass raised his head to survey the six media voyeurs who stood 12 feet away to verify the execution of sentence in Ohio vs. Byrd.
For a chilling flash of a second, Byrd made eye contact. I tried to calm myself. I was a detached observer with no personal stake in whether Byrd was executed at the age of 38 or died of old age.
I had sat with his mother and sister as they welled into tears over their loss-in-waiting. Their grief was discomforting, but ultimately, their son and brother was of little consequence in my life.
I also had covert empathy for the women of another family whose eyes burned with the resolve of an 18-year wait for justice. Monte Tewksbury was a loving husband, a good father, a decent soul, but I never knew him.
I consider myself an old-school, seen-it-all journalist who can wall off the emotions that accompany the gut-wrenching. But this assignment was unlike any accident, fire, murder or plane crash I ever had covered.
In the ultimate exercise of its authority, the state was sending a man to an unnatural death - killing a man some believed innocent - with an overdose of chemicals retailing for $43.23. The act was to be like euthanizing a pet.
To my surprise, my heart was pounding from adrenaline. My hand was shaking from jangled nerves, deteriorating my note-taking a notch below its usual level of nearly indecipherable. The throbbing in my temples was distracting.
I had a job to do, but was betrayed by something over which I had no control - my humanity. I wanted to flee this horror. But the reporter remained rooted, pen scribbling.
For the enormity of what occurred during those nine minutes, my notebook is surprisingly empty: 171 words across four pages. But the few words are but bookmarks to greater detail never to be forgotten.
''10:04 a.m. Statement over. Raising head, mouthing words to lawyers standing at window.
''10:05. Deep breath. Eyes half lidded. Faint smile to lawyers. Mouth words. 'I'm free.' Head rested down on bed.
''10:06. Slow blinks, breathing slowing, lapsed into unconsciousness.
''10:07. Breathing stopped. Pallor of skin change. Left fist clenched.'' Two words I cannot read. The next is clear enough: ''Dead?''
''Curtains at 10:08. Lawyers hug. Crying.'' More handwriting I cannot read. ''Somber, sad-eyed Mathew (Tewksbury, a witness and Monte's son). Curtains open. Warden: 10:09 a.m. Curtains close.''
I walk from the death house grim at the taking of life, knowing while I can write a story, I cannot truly describe its surreal quality.
Analyzing my gut reaction to watching a man be killed, I chide the bravado of believing my hard-nosed reporter facade was impenetrable.
The execution of John Byrd Jr. was an unnerving tragedy, self-provoked and perhaps deserved, but sad nonetheless. To have no reaction would have been impossible.
Extracting eye-for-an-eye justice on behalf of the people is a nasty, hellacious business - and may it always remain so.
If Gov. Bob Taft would witness an execution, his power of clemency truly would be tempered with mercy and insistence on certainity.
And if every Ohioan could watch the unnatural ebbing of life, the death penalty might not long survive.
Randy Ludlow is The Post's Statehouse bureau chief.
Conversation by Steve Andrews
Conversation
- So why did you befriend a man who had taken another man’s life?
- Because everyone deserves a friend, no matter what they’ve done.
- Your decision made you unpopular amongst some of your friends and colleagues, I believe.
Some refused to talk about it with you. Some thought you weird. Others were sympathetic but afraid to show it.
- Yes. People are odd sometimes. There are areas they don’t like to go. My friend was guilty, yes, but I promised not to judge.
There but for the grace … Well, yes.
- Yet the law says he deserves to die because of his crime.
- No one deserves to die.
- Ever?
- Ever!
- But surely he deserved some form of severe punishment?
- A lifetime of torture does not reflect well on us who stand in judgement.
- Torture is a strong accusation. Isn’t that a human rights violation?
- Certainly, and it’s inhuman and degrading too, if we’re going to get technical and quote international law.
- Where is the torture in death row?
- Knowing that the blow can fall at any time – or never. It is cruel, and we are better than that. Or should be.
- An eye for an eye?
- You should know better than to quote yourself wrongly.
- The guilty must be seen to suffer for their crimes. The ultimate crime deserves the ultimate punishment, so the argument went.
I should know, I was there at the meeting.
- Which meeting?
- All of them.
- When?
- All of them.
- Where?
- Oh, come on, you should have got this by now. Everywhere.
- Sorry to be slow, but I’m new to this. You know then that the courts are not infallible, like some of your agents claim to be.
- Now you’re being cheeky. Remember who’s got the keys here. But you’re right to be skeptical.
- Sorry. No offence. People sometimes get let out of prison on the basis they’ve been wrongly convicted. But I’ve read that as many as one prisoner in 6 on death row could well be innocent.
Anyway, there’s enough suffering in the world. It’s vindictive to revenge ourselves on others. I thought revenge went out in the middle ages, you know, when we got civilised.
- Yes, I know, I was there, remember. You are naïve to assume revenge is out of fashion. I like the quote about it being a dish best served cold.
- Cold blood, more like. So what about redemption, mercy?
- Ah yes, being sorry.
- No, having the possibility to make something out of a life that has taken a deadly wrong turn at one point. Removing all hope is the worst cruelty we can inflict.
- Doesn’t society need to see justice done?
- Maybe. But society would rather not think about justice. It’s too uncomfortable. Society wants scapegoats.
Society knows it’s a mess where the strong and rich hold all the good cards, and the weak go under. And it feels guilty.
Society wants an easy answer to a crime that frightens it, and all it can come up with is more violence.
- So, keep ‘em in prison a few years and teach ‘em to be nice people, and then let them out to kill again?
Sounds pretty feeble to me. What about the deterrent effect at least?
- Why murder someone to prevent murder taking place? Where’s the logic in that?
Anyway, everyone knows the deterrent effect is a myth.
The murder rate is just as high in countries which don’t have the death penalty, as in ones that do.
The death penalty is just a celebration of the power of the strong and bigoted over the weak and vulnerable, and it reflects badly on all of us.
I remember being at this conference a while ago and this nun from Louisiana told us about when she decided to go and make friends with the black families in her neighbourhood. It was a world she’d never dreamed could exist. From her position of privilege she was shocked to see the realty of daily life for the urban poor. Unfortunately they don’t get to write the laws.
- A nun, eh? Some things are going right then.
- Now you’re interrupting. Fundamentally, I resent being part of a system which allows my elected representatives to kill people in my name.
- Soldiers too?
- Don’t change the subject. But as you mention it, yes, soldiers too. If you want to look at the health of a society, look at how it treats its prisoners.
Who said that? You should know. You were probably there. Even life imprisonment goes against the grain, because very few people who kill will ever kill again.
Ok, some whose minds are unbalanced to such an extent that they see threats all around. But they need help as much as anything else.
It seemed to me that we must always see the possibility of redemption. Our humanity lies in seeing some good in every dark corner, and if we take away all dignity and hope of absolution then we become as bad as those who we incarcerate.
- So, how far were you prepared to take this?
- Well, put it like this. Getting the sudden call to appear here before you certainly explains a lot of things, - nice gates by the way - but I didn’t become a penfriend
to a death row prisoner out of any religious feelings – no offence. No one should be alone. No one should be beyond hope of human contact.
I, and probably a majority of my fellow writers, if the worst came to the worst, would go to the room of execution with our friend, so that, as the nun said, he would have had a friend’s eyes to look into at the last moment.
Sister showed me that, and she was right.
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