Post by ela on Jun 12, 2005 15:40:12 GMT -5
Son Tran, a guy from Vietnam, who is at Polunsky from 1997,juvenile at the moment of crime, is looking for someone to correspond with.
Here is what he wrote some months ago:
Son Tran writes on behalf of those who were, as he was, under 18 at the time of the crime. On March 1, 2005 a divided U.S. Supreme Court ruled that convicted killers who were under 18 at the time of their crimes cannot be executed.
These are Tran's thoughts as he sits on the row thinking about his execution, waiting, sitting around, staring at the walls. Now, after the Supreme Court ruling that the state can no longer execute those who were juveniles at the time their crime was committed, Tran will find himself staring at the walls without death hanging over his head. Tran writes just a few questions:
Have you ever stopped to wonder about the life of a prisoner, a death row prisoner? Or being confined in a 6'x10'cage 23 hours a day? Think you could handle it? Can you even begin to imagine the roller-coaster ride of emotions and hardship they must endure, knowing they will one day be killed - euthanized like some animal - while strapped to a gurney; with poison coursing through their veins, chasing away every flicker of hope and condemning them to walk through the Valley of Death? Could you accept something like that happening to a friend, a family member, any loved one; saying goodbye and watching as tears fall from the eyes of someone no longer able to laugh and smile? Could you deal with that? What would you say if I told you I know the answers to these questions?
Hello, my name is Son Tran. I am a Vietnamese male, who has been incarcerated since 1997,the year I turned 17. I was sentenced to death by a Harris County court at the age of 20, and shortly thereafter arrived on death row.
This month (October 2004) makes the seventh year of institutional incarceration for me. It's not like I'm keeping track, yet I can't help but reflect on the lost years. During these years I've fought, survived the brutality of the guards, endured the dreadful conditions, and experienced firsthand the inhuman existence of prison life. My eyes have witnessed so much that I am no longer surprised by what they see.
I awaken each day with a heavy burden - this scythe blade upon my neck - fighting to gain relief from the court of appeals. I strive daily to maintain my composure and a positive outlook. And I hope to never let this incarceration plant the seeds of bitterness and hatred, which could fester and smother my spirit. At times it's tough, but I've learned to live and adapt to each situation I face. I still laugh, I still smile. Even in the worst of times. I even hold strong to my dreams and beliefs. I can't -I won't - give in to self-pity, nor will I give in to the system's design: the enslavement and reprogramming of my mind, the breaking of my spirit, the destruction of what makes me who I am: me.
I face life's trials with my head held high, ever improving myself and trying to convince those who believe my sentence is just that I'm not the monster I've been painted to be; l am not the person they need me to be in order to justify their actions, their senseless killing.
So who am I?
I am a father. I am a son. I am someone who would like to make a difference. I am a human being. And I am on death row now, eager to share with you my life.
I am Son Tran.
Never could I have imagined that my writing would become a voice these merciless walls cannot silence - no matter how hard they try - for I am struggling to bring to light the injustice visited upon me by the state of Texas.
I was charged with capital murder and found myself facing the death sentence at the age of 17, a juvenile; in December of 2000, three years later, the possibility of a death sentence became a reality, which truly sank in when I arrived on death row shortly thereafter.
I've come to realize I can do only so much in here. Alone in this cage, my voice is but a whisper, easily absorbed by these walls, the state of Texas itself. I ask you to join me in this struggle, my plight, to save my life; together, "our" voice will be heard, it cannot be ignored. But only with outside support can this happen. do I even stand a chance against the Texas killing machine - the death penalty.
Due to the desperation of my situation, the unavoidable reality in which I must exist, I implore your help, and ask you to contact me, to lend your voice and show me "someone" still cares. Any amount of support could prove to be exactly what was needed to prevail against these incredible odds and save my life, the life of a fellow human being. Time is short, though; every day, every moment, brings me that much closer to the goal Texas set for itself in December 2000: my death.
In the struggle I remain,
Son Tran
My contact address:
Son Tran # 999372
Polunsky Unit
3872 FM 350 South
Livingston, Tx 77351
USA
Here is what he wrote some months ago:
Son Tran writes on behalf of those who were, as he was, under 18 at the time of the crime. On March 1, 2005 a divided U.S. Supreme Court ruled that convicted killers who were under 18 at the time of their crimes cannot be executed.
These are Tran's thoughts as he sits on the row thinking about his execution, waiting, sitting around, staring at the walls. Now, after the Supreme Court ruling that the state can no longer execute those who were juveniles at the time their crime was committed, Tran will find himself staring at the walls without death hanging over his head. Tran writes just a few questions:
Have you ever stopped to wonder about the life of a prisoner, a death row prisoner? Or being confined in a 6'x10'cage 23 hours a day? Think you could handle it? Can you even begin to imagine the roller-coaster ride of emotions and hardship they must endure, knowing they will one day be killed - euthanized like some animal - while strapped to a gurney; with poison coursing through their veins, chasing away every flicker of hope and condemning them to walk through the Valley of Death? Could you accept something like that happening to a friend, a family member, any loved one; saying goodbye and watching as tears fall from the eyes of someone no longer able to laugh and smile? Could you deal with that? What would you say if I told you I know the answers to these questions?
Hello, my name is Son Tran. I am a Vietnamese male, who has been incarcerated since 1997,the year I turned 17. I was sentenced to death by a Harris County court at the age of 20, and shortly thereafter arrived on death row.
This month (October 2004) makes the seventh year of institutional incarceration for me. It's not like I'm keeping track, yet I can't help but reflect on the lost years. During these years I've fought, survived the brutality of the guards, endured the dreadful conditions, and experienced firsthand the inhuman existence of prison life. My eyes have witnessed so much that I am no longer surprised by what they see.
I awaken each day with a heavy burden - this scythe blade upon my neck - fighting to gain relief from the court of appeals. I strive daily to maintain my composure and a positive outlook. And I hope to never let this incarceration plant the seeds of bitterness and hatred, which could fester and smother my spirit. At times it's tough, but I've learned to live and adapt to each situation I face. I still laugh, I still smile. Even in the worst of times. I even hold strong to my dreams and beliefs. I can't -I won't - give in to self-pity, nor will I give in to the system's design: the enslavement and reprogramming of my mind, the breaking of my spirit, the destruction of what makes me who I am: me.
I face life's trials with my head held high, ever improving myself and trying to convince those who believe my sentence is just that I'm not the monster I've been painted to be; l am not the person they need me to be in order to justify their actions, their senseless killing.
So who am I?
I am a father. I am a son. I am someone who would like to make a difference. I am a human being. And I am on death row now, eager to share with you my life.
I am Son Tran.
Never could I have imagined that my writing would become a voice these merciless walls cannot silence - no matter how hard they try - for I am struggling to bring to light the injustice visited upon me by the state of Texas.
I was charged with capital murder and found myself facing the death sentence at the age of 17, a juvenile; in December of 2000, three years later, the possibility of a death sentence became a reality, which truly sank in when I arrived on death row shortly thereafter.
I've come to realize I can do only so much in here. Alone in this cage, my voice is but a whisper, easily absorbed by these walls, the state of Texas itself. I ask you to join me in this struggle, my plight, to save my life; together, "our" voice will be heard, it cannot be ignored. But only with outside support can this happen. do I even stand a chance against the Texas killing machine - the death penalty.
Due to the desperation of my situation, the unavoidable reality in which I must exist, I implore your help, and ask you to contact me, to lend your voice and show me "someone" still cares. Any amount of support could prove to be exactly what was needed to prevail against these incredible odds and save my life, the life of a fellow human being. Time is short, though; every day, every moment, brings me that much closer to the goal Texas set for itself in December 2000: my death.
In the struggle I remain,
Son Tran
My contact address:
Son Tran # 999372
Polunsky Unit
3872 FM 350 South
Livingston, Tx 77351
USA
