Post by sclcookie on May 30, 2006 0:19:35 GMT -5
Can there be life after Death Row?
(After watching her client die on death row, lawyer and journalist Joan
Cheever set out to answer a question: what if, instead of being executed,
he'd been given a second chance? She tells Women's Editor Sarah Foster
about her quest to find the 'Class of '72' - a group of inmates to whom
this happened)
"WHEN I walked into the Death House, I was struck by the starkness of the
room. There was the gurney and there was Walter, already lying on top of
it, bound by those 6 thick white leather straps. His head immediately
turned to the glass window. He seemed to have been waiting for me. It was
time to say goodbye.
"God bless and God speed, Walter. You're almost home," I said, choking
back the tears. "Thank you Joan." And then the warden asked if Walter had
any last words. Walter looked up at the microphone and said he was
grateful that he had converted to Islam. And then he asked the family of
Daniel Liepold for forgiveness. He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down
his right cheek.
These were Walter Williams' last moments, as described by his attorney,
Joan Cheever, in her book Back From The Dead. For 9 long years she had
been his champion, trying all ways to change the sentence that had brought
him to death row. Now, as she watched the poison taking hold, she knew the
battle was truly lost. It was 1994 when Joan witnessed Walter's execution
in a Texas jail. Her memories of that night will never fade.
"I think it just felt like an out of body experience that wasn't really
happening, or a bad movie," she says. "We were separated by Plexiglass and
I could see myself watching him. It was very hard. Then to have my fellow
journalists standing behind me writing and the prison officials -
everybody watching a murder, it was just totally bizarre. It's kind of
like 'well, just another execution'."
Yet to Joan it was far from this. A working journalist who just happened
to have been to law school, she took on Walter's case to help a friend,
for what she thought would be a matter of months. As she explains, it
seemed to her to be open and shut. "I thought it (his death sentence)
would be reversed on appeal because there were so many errors at the trial
level and Walter didn't have a prior record, so he really wasn't
considered a dangerous individual," says Joan, 48, who lives in Texas. "I
wasn't in favour of the death penalty but I was so surprised that someone
like him would be sent to death row, when I thought, like most people,
that it was reserved for the worst of the worst."
As time went on - and Walter lived through 5 execution dates - Joan got to
know him as a person. She became convinced that this was not the same man
who, as a drugged-up teenager, had murdered Daniel Liepold. "I didn't know
him when he was first put on death row but I had read about how he acted
in the courtroom," she says. "I could see that the person I represented
was not the person they described. He had converted to Islam. He was quiet
and remorseful and he had asked for forgiveness. He had changed - I think
we all do. I think most everyone is capable of change."
After Walter died, this conviction came back to haunt Joan. There was one
thing she had to know: had her instinct been right? Had he really
reformed? "I really wanted to know for myself if he had walked off death
row and out of prison, would he have killed again?" she says. "I thought
'I'll never know the answer to that question' but then I realised there
was a group of people who could answer it. They weren't released from
death row because they were innocent but because they happened to be in
the right place at the right time."
The group to which Joan refers is the so called 'Class of '72' - 589
felons who won what she terms the "Death Row lottery". This happened when
in a landmark ruling, the US Supreme Court outlawed the death penalty,
giving inmates throughout the country a second chance. Joan decided to
track them down, embarking on an epic 13-year mission. "Therapy would have
been a lot cheaper and easier," she says wryly.
Her journey began with Lawrence "Bubba" Hayes, who in 1972, was sentenced
to death for killing a policeman. When Joan met him, he'd been released
from prison and was working as a counsellor in Brooklyn. Despite her
initial fear, she found him far from threatening. "Lawrence Hayes is a
good-looking, articulate man," she writes. "He doesn't look or act like a
killer."
Further meetings took her right across America, where former inmates were
living largely anonymously within communities. She had to steel herself
for each encounter. "I believed, like many people, that the people on
Death Row were psychopaths and serial killers, so I had to say 100 hail
Marys and walk to the door," says Joan. "I had that fear and it was very
real."
What she found, in every case, was that to some degree at least, the
former convict had reformed. "They weren't the people who had landed them
on eeath row," she says. "They did a great job with their 2nd chance. I
don't make the case for them - they make it for themselves."
Of the Class of '72, 322 prisoners were released. A total of 111 returned
to jail - 5 for further murders - yet according to Joan, most had
committed only minor crimes. "For most of them, it was because they
violated a rule of their parole," she says. "Of that 111, 42 went back for
non-violent crimes like drug or alcohol offences or because they were
carrying a firearm - but there are many Americans who have guns. On the
whole, those who did return to prison did so for very minor offences."
In 1976, after a brief four-year respite, execution was reinstated in the
US. Since then, it's become a world leader, behind only China, Iran and
Vietnam. At the heart of Joan's argument is that it's the poor, black and
uneducated who fill the ranks of death row - and not the heinous felons we
might assume. She points to Freddie Pitts and Wilbert Lee, who in 1963,
were framed for 2 gas station murders. "The 2 men were questioned - at one
point for more than 17 hours," she writes. "They were beaten and told to
confess or face a lynch mob. Freddie and Wilbert confessed."
The picture Joan paints is of a system where corruption is endemic, where
killers of whites are 6 times more likely to be put to death than those of
blacks, where your chance of living still depends on your lawyer. Yet
there are some for whom she has no pity. "There are people who should not
be released," she says. "I don't think they should be executed but I don't
think they should be released. I'm realistic. I'm not going to stand on my
soap box and say everyone has a redeeming quality. That's not true. There
are groups of people who are truly evil."
One such person, who she never met, is repeat murderer Kenneth McDuff. "I
first regretted not meeting him or talking to him but then I read about
him and I was very glad I didn't," Joan reflects.
The final part of her journey, which she admits to putting off, was
meeting Daniel Liepold's parents, whose son her client had killed. "Going
to meet the family was the scariest interview that I did," she says. "I
knew that I had to do it but I just hoped that when I wrote a letter to
Daniel's mother and asked to meet she would say 'I don't want to have
anything to do with you'. Mrs Liepold is one tough cookie and she said 'I
absolutely want to meet you'."
At first hostile, when they heard of Walter's remorse - which no one had
thought to mention - the Liepolds welcomed Joan with open arms. The news
gave them something his death had not: the chance to heal. While she's
careful not to generalise, Joan believes that killing does not bring
comfort. "The one thing I've learned from talking to victims' families is
that I could never step into their shoes," she says. "But I don't think
execution brings any closure or any good feeling to anybody - I just don't
think it does. Victims' families have been interviewed after witnessing an
execution and they've said they didn't feel better. They still had that
loss. Those families are going to carry that for the rest of their lives."
* Back From The Dead by Joan M Cheever (Wiley, 16.99)
(source: The Northern Echo (UK)
(After watching her client die on death row, lawyer and journalist Joan
Cheever set out to answer a question: what if, instead of being executed,
he'd been given a second chance? She tells Women's Editor Sarah Foster
about her quest to find the 'Class of '72' - a group of inmates to whom
this happened)
"WHEN I walked into the Death House, I was struck by the starkness of the
room. There was the gurney and there was Walter, already lying on top of
it, bound by those 6 thick white leather straps. His head immediately
turned to the glass window. He seemed to have been waiting for me. It was
time to say goodbye.
"God bless and God speed, Walter. You're almost home," I said, choking
back the tears. "Thank you Joan." And then the warden asked if Walter had
any last words. Walter looked up at the microphone and said he was
grateful that he had converted to Islam. And then he asked the family of
Daniel Liepold for forgiveness. He closed his eyes and a tear rolled down
his right cheek.
These were Walter Williams' last moments, as described by his attorney,
Joan Cheever, in her book Back From The Dead. For 9 long years she had
been his champion, trying all ways to change the sentence that had brought
him to death row. Now, as she watched the poison taking hold, she knew the
battle was truly lost. It was 1994 when Joan witnessed Walter's execution
in a Texas jail. Her memories of that night will never fade.
"I think it just felt like an out of body experience that wasn't really
happening, or a bad movie," she says. "We were separated by Plexiglass and
I could see myself watching him. It was very hard. Then to have my fellow
journalists standing behind me writing and the prison officials -
everybody watching a murder, it was just totally bizarre. It's kind of
like 'well, just another execution'."
Yet to Joan it was far from this. A working journalist who just happened
to have been to law school, she took on Walter's case to help a friend,
for what she thought would be a matter of months. As she explains, it
seemed to her to be open and shut. "I thought it (his death sentence)
would be reversed on appeal because there were so many errors at the trial
level and Walter didn't have a prior record, so he really wasn't
considered a dangerous individual," says Joan, 48, who lives in Texas. "I
wasn't in favour of the death penalty but I was so surprised that someone
like him would be sent to death row, when I thought, like most people,
that it was reserved for the worst of the worst."
As time went on - and Walter lived through 5 execution dates - Joan got to
know him as a person. She became convinced that this was not the same man
who, as a drugged-up teenager, had murdered Daniel Liepold. "I didn't know
him when he was first put on death row but I had read about how he acted
in the courtroom," she says. "I could see that the person I represented
was not the person they described. He had converted to Islam. He was quiet
and remorseful and he had asked for forgiveness. He had changed - I think
we all do. I think most everyone is capable of change."
After Walter died, this conviction came back to haunt Joan. There was one
thing she had to know: had her instinct been right? Had he really
reformed? "I really wanted to know for myself if he had walked off death
row and out of prison, would he have killed again?" she says. "I thought
'I'll never know the answer to that question' but then I realised there
was a group of people who could answer it. They weren't released from
death row because they were innocent but because they happened to be in
the right place at the right time."
The group to which Joan refers is the so called 'Class of '72' - 589
felons who won what she terms the "Death Row lottery". This happened when
in a landmark ruling, the US Supreme Court outlawed the death penalty,
giving inmates throughout the country a second chance. Joan decided to
track them down, embarking on an epic 13-year mission. "Therapy would have
been a lot cheaper and easier," she says wryly.
Her journey began with Lawrence "Bubba" Hayes, who in 1972, was sentenced
to death for killing a policeman. When Joan met him, he'd been released
from prison and was working as a counsellor in Brooklyn. Despite her
initial fear, she found him far from threatening. "Lawrence Hayes is a
good-looking, articulate man," she writes. "He doesn't look or act like a
killer."
Further meetings took her right across America, where former inmates were
living largely anonymously within communities. She had to steel herself
for each encounter. "I believed, like many people, that the people on
Death Row were psychopaths and serial killers, so I had to say 100 hail
Marys and walk to the door," says Joan. "I had that fear and it was very
real."
What she found, in every case, was that to some degree at least, the
former convict had reformed. "They weren't the people who had landed them
on eeath row," she says. "They did a great job with their 2nd chance. I
don't make the case for them - they make it for themselves."
Of the Class of '72, 322 prisoners were released. A total of 111 returned
to jail - 5 for further murders - yet according to Joan, most had
committed only minor crimes. "For most of them, it was because they
violated a rule of their parole," she says. "Of that 111, 42 went back for
non-violent crimes like drug or alcohol offences or because they were
carrying a firearm - but there are many Americans who have guns. On the
whole, those who did return to prison did so for very minor offences."
In 1976, after a brief four-year respite, execution was reinstated in the
US. Since then, it's become a world leader, behind only China, Iran and
Vietnam. At the heart of Joan's argument is that it's the poor, black and
uneducated who fill the ranks of death row - and not the heinous felons we
might assume. She points to Freddie Pitts and Wilbert Lee, who in 1963,
were framed for 2 gas station murders. "The 2 men were questioned - at one
point for more than 17 hours," she writes. "They were beaten and told to
confess or face a lynch mob. Freddie and Wilbert confessed."
The picture Joan paints is of a system where corruption is endemic, where
killers of whites are 6 times more likely to be put to death than those of
blacks, where your chance of living still depends on your lawyer. Yet
there are some for whom she has no pity. "There are people who should not
be released," she says. "I don't think they should be executed but I don't
think they should be released. I'm realistic. I'm not going to stand on my
soap box and say everyone has a redeeming quality. That's not true. There
are groups of people who are truly evil."
One such person, who she never met, is repeat murderer Kenneth McDuff. "I
first regretted not meeting him or talking to him but then I read about
him and I was very glad I didn't," Joan reflects.
The final part of her journey, which she admits to putting off, was
meeting Daniel Liepold's parents, whose son her client had killed. "Going
to meet the family was the scariest interview that I did," she says. "I
knew that I had to do it but I just hoped that when I wrote a letter to
Daniel's mother and asked to meet she would say 'I don't want to have
anything to do with you'. Mrs Liepold is one tough cookie and she said 'I
absolutely want to meet you'."
At first hostile, when they heard of Walter's remorse - which no one had
thought to mention - the Liepolds welcomed Joan with open arms. The news
gave them something his death had not: the chance to heal. While she's
careful not to generalise, Joan believes that killing does not bring
comfort. "The one thing I've learned from talking to victims' families is
that I could never step into their shoes," she says. "But I don't think
execution brings any closure or any good feeling to anybody - I just don't
think it does. Victims' families have been interviewed after witnessing an
execution and they've said they didn't feel better. They still had that
loss. Those families are going to carry that for the rest of their lives."
* Back From The Dead by Joan M Cheever (Wiley, 16.99)
(source: The Northern Echo (UK)