Post by CCADP on Aug 18, 2005 18:38:42 GMT -5
Killer Espada is set to die
Death by lethal injection was the jury's decision late Wednesday for
convicted double murderer Noah Espada, the 21-year-old son of Christian
missionaries.
As the verdict was read, the clean-cut killer stood stoically, ramrod
straight beside his attorneys, but minutes later fought to hold back tears
as he turned to address his family and the relatives of his victims.
"Above all, I don't think words can express the meaning of the sorrow I
feel. I want you all to know, though, that no matter what happens, I won't
ever forget what I did. I won't ever look at myself in the same way,"
Espada said.
"As a matter of fact, I hate myself the way you hate me. I have no excuse.
I'm sorry," he added.
The jury of 6 women and 6 men took just 40 minutes on Aug. 9 to decide
Espada was guilty of capital murder in the 2004 murders of Sandra Ramos,
29, and Luther "Luke" Scott, 30.
Scott was the defendant's former boss at the popular River Walk nightclub
Polly Esther's Dance Plex.
In separate confessions unveiled during the trial, Espada admitted he
killed Scott out of revenge for having been fired 2 weeks beforehand, and
he stated he killed Ramos 2 days earlier when he broke into the wrong unit
of the Altamonte Apartments looking for Scott.
After each killing, Espada drove off with his victims' vehicles and other
possessions.
Throughout the 2-week-long proceedings, relatives of the victims cried in
anguish and some were openly hostile to the defendant, and some of that
anger was vented after 379th District Judge Bert Richardson formally
pronounced the sentence.
"I cannot tell you how much you have torn apart my family," said Scott's
mother, Alicia Scott-Abboud, of Annapolis, Md. "I just want you to know
that, today, you are here because of the decisions you made. You'll never
measure up to be half the man my son was."
Scott's stepfather, Lou Abboud, added, almost shouting: "You're going to
have plenty of time to think about the crime you committed, as a
cold-blooded murderer, as a coward, as a punk with a gun.
"You have taken a part of my life away from me and my wife and from the
Ramoses. You're not even worth a conversation."
Only Sandra Ramos' father, Julio, of Peach Tree City, Ga., had any words
approaching forgiveness.
"There is nothing I can say that will bring back my daughter or that will
bring back Luke. I am truly sorry for the suffering the Espada family will
go through in the years to come. I can only hope that, through their faith
and beliefs, they will come to have peace in their hearts," Ramos said.
Members of Espada's family began quietly weeping as the judge read the
jury verdict. Afterward, they declined all comment, but on their way out
of the Cadena-Reeves Justice Center, they stopped to offer words of sorrow
to the victims' families.
Jurors took 6 1/2 hours to reach their decision, and also declined public
comment after the trial recessed for good around 8:30 p.m.
The defendant had been scheduled to take the witness stand to plead for a
life sentence when trial resumed at 8:30 a.m., but he changed his mind
overnight and took the advice of his defense attorneys to let them plead
his case for him.
In their instructions from the judge, jurors were asked two key questions:
Whether Espada represents a future danger to society, and whether they
find there were any mitigating circumstances that are sufficient enough to
sentence him to life in prison.
All 12 jurors answered yes to the 1st question and no to the 2nd, giving
Richardson direction to sentence Espada to death.
"There is nothing that mitigates this crime - nothing," lead prosecutor
Kevin O'Connell said during the state's final summation before jurors
retired to deliberate shortly before lunch.
O'Connell painted a simple picture for jurors to consider on the question
of whether Espada represents a future danger to society.
He pointed to the fact Espada broke into the wrong apartment to kill Scott
and, instead, found Ramos, whom he suffocated by wrapping a plastic
garbage bag over her head. That was in the early morning hours of Feb. 29,
2004. 2 nights later, after scouting out Scott's apartment, he returned to
break in and shoot him three times in the neck and head.
"What if he had been caught after killing Sandra Ramos? He would have been
charged with capital murder. We know what would have happened then,"
O'Connell said.
Defense attorney Jeff Scott, no relation to Luke Scott, argued that jurors
must not rush to judgment, but instead should consider what would happen
if Espada were sentenced to death.
"As horrible, as horrible as it is to take a phone call from someone
telling you that your child has been murdered, can you imagine how
horrible it would be if you didn't need a phone call?" Scott asked.
Noah Espada's "parents will know the day, the date and the hour that their
child will die. If that's the road you take, is that going to lessen
anyone's suffering; the pain they will have for the rest of their lives?"
Bexar County juries have been reluctant to assess death penalties in
recent capital murder cases. In the past 12 months, when prosecutors have
sought the death penalty, juries have been granted it in only 1 out of 4
cases.
In March, a Bexar County jury sentenced 34-year-old Taichin Preyor to die
for the Feb. 26, 2004 robbery and stabbing death of Jami Tackett, 24,
inside her Southeast San Antonio apartment.
So far this year, Texas has executed 11 condemned capital murderers. Since
the advent of death by injection in 1982, Texas has executed 347.
Death by lethal injection was the jury's decision late Wednesday for
convicted double murderer Noah Espada, the 21-year-old son of Christian
missionaries.
As the verdict was read, the clean-cut killer stood stoically, ramrod
straight beside his attorneys, but minutes later fought to hold back tears
as he turned to address his family and the relatives of his victims.
"Above all, I don't think words can express the meaning of the sorrow I
feel. I want you all to know, though, that no matter what happens, I won't
ever forget what I did. I won't ever look at myself in the same way,"
Espada said.
"As a matter of fact, I hate myself the way you hate me. I have no excuse.
I'm sorry," he added.
The jury of 6 women and 6 men took just 40 minutes on Aug. 9 to decide
Espada was guilty of capital murder in the 2004 murders of Sandra Ramos,
29, and Luther "Luke" Scott, 30.
Scott was the defendant's former boss at the popular River Walk nightclub
Polly Esther's Dance Plex.
In separate confessions unveiled during the trial, Espada admitted he
killed Scott out of revenge for having been fired 2 weeks beforehand, and
he stated he killed Ramos 2 days earlier when he broke into the wrong unit
of the Altamonte Apartments looking for Scott.
After each killing, Espada drove off with his victims' vehicles and other
possessions.
Throughout the 2-week-long proceedings, relatives of the victims cried in
anguish and some were openly hostile to the defendant, and some of that
anger was vented after 379th District Judge Bert Richardson formally
pronounced the sentence.
"I cannot tell you how much you have torn apart my family," said Scott's
mother, Alicia Scott-Abboud, of Annapolis, Md. "I just want you to know
that, today, you are here because of the decisions you made. You'll never
measure up to be half the man my son was."
Scott's stepfather, Lou Abboud, added, almost shouting: "You're going to
have plenty of time to think about the crime you committed, as a
cold-blooded murderer, as a coward, as a punk with a gun.
"You have taken a part of my life away from me and my wife and from the
Ramoses. You're not even worth a conversation."
Only Sandra Ramos' father, Julio, of Peach Tree City, Ga., had any words
approaching forgiveness.
"There is nothing I can say that will bring back my daughter or that will
bring back Luke. I am truly sorry for the suffering the Espada family will
go through in the years to come. I can only hope that, through their faith
and beliefs, they will come to have peace in their hearts," Ramos said.
Members of Espada's family began quietly weeping as the judge read the
jury verdict. Afterward, they declined all comment, but on their way out
of the Cadena-Reeves Justice Center, they stopped to offer words of sorrow
to the victims' families.
Jurors took 6 1/2 hours to reach their decision, and also declined public
comment after the trial recessed for good around 8:30 p.m.
The defendant had been scheduled to take the witness stand to plead for a
life sentence when trial resumed at 8:30 a.m., but he changed his mind
overnight and took the advice of his defense attorneys to let them plead
his case for him.
In their instructions from the judge, jurors were asked two key questions:
Whether Espada represents a future danger to society, and whether they
find there were any mitigating circumstances that are sufficient enough to
sentence him to life in prison.
All 12 jurors answered yes to the 1st question and no to the 2nd, giving
Richardson direction to sentence Espada to death.
"There is nothing that mitigates this crime - nothing," lead prosecutor
Kevin O'Connell said during the state's final summation before jurors
retired to deliberate shortly before lunch.
O'Connell painted a simple picture for jurors to consider on the question
of whether Espada represents a future danger to society.
He pointed to the fact Espada broke into the wrong apartment to kill Scott
and, instead, found Ramos, whom he suffocated by wrapping a plastic
garbage bag over her head. That was in the early morning hours of Feb. 29,
2004. 2 nights later, after scouting out Scott's apartment, he returned to
break in and shoot him three times in the neck and head.
"What if he had been caught after killing Sandra Ramos? He would have been
charged with capital murder. We know what would have happened then,"
O'Connell said.
Defense attorney Jeff Scott, no relation to Luke Scott, argued that jurors
must not rush to judgment, but instead should consider what would happen
if Espada were sentenced to death.
"As horrible, as horrible as it is to take a phone call from someone
telling you that your child has been murdered, can you imagine how
horrible it would be if you didn't need a phone call?" Scott asked.
Noah Espada's "parents will know the day, the date and the hour that their
child will die. If that's the road you take, is that going to lessen
anyone's suffering; the pain they will have for the rest of their lives?"
Bexar County juries have been reluctant to assess death penalties in
recent capital murder cases. In the past 12 months, when prosecutors have
sought the death penalty, juries have been granted it in only 1 out of 4
cases.
In March, a Bexar County jury sentenced 34-year-old Taichin Preyor to die
for the Feb. 26, 2004 robbery and stabbing death of Jami Tackett, 24,
inside her Southeast San Antonio apartment.
So far this year, Texas has executed 11 condemned capital murderers. Since
the advent of death by injection in 1982, Texas has executed 347.