Post by ela on May 17, 2005 18:17:05 GMT -5
Sylvester Brown, Jr.; St. Louis Dispatch
MISSOURI: Executions remain a monstrous thing, and I feel guilty
I killed a man Tuesday night.
It's not easy accepting responsibility for taking a life, but I do.
When Gov. Matt Blunt decided Tuesday to let the scheduled execution of convicted murderer Donald Jones move forward, he did so with Missourians in mind, he said.
"We have capital punishment in our state because we believe some crimes are so horrific and so terrible that the only reasonable penalty, the penalty that fits the crime, is indeed the death penalty," Blunt told reporters Tuesday. "And we will apply the death penalty this evening."
A few minutes after midnight, Jones died from the lethal combination of drugs pushed into his veins. The state's will was done. And I, as a Missouri citizen, must accept my part in the killing.
During his trial, Jones said "the monster" inside caused him to kill his grandmother 12 years ago. High on crack and desperate for drug money, Jones repeatedly stabbed and bludgeoned Dorothy Knuckles, 68, before trading her car for more crack cocaine.
Did illegal drugs cause a crazed killer's actions? I can't say. From what I read about the case, the murder wasn't premeditated. But the homicide I took part in Tuesday was. After all, the state debated it, scheduled it, provided a last meal of pizza, chicken strips, Pepsi and apple pie . . . then proceeded to kill a man.
What purpose did the execution serve? It wasn't vengeance. Family members - both to the victim and the murderer - didn't want vengeance. They forgave Jones and fought to have his sentence commuted to life in prison.
Age has a way of whipping young, foolish men into older, wiser men. I can think of no greater punishment than a lifetime of incarceration. Hell is life in a cage reliving the cruelty of one's stupid acts.
Proponents of the death penalty claim executions serve as a deterrent to crime. But there are arguments on the other side. The Washington-based Death Penalty Information Center cites FBI statistics showing that Southern states, which account for 80 % of the country's executions, have the highest murder rate.
Even if those favoring the death penalty are correct, I doubt if other cracked-out, drugged-up killers will think about Jones' death when the "monsters inside" lead them to unspeakable acts.
I went to see Jones' uncle, Matthew Knuckles, Wednesday. Knuckles and several other family members witnessed the execution at the new death chamber at the state prison in Bonne Terre.
Knuckles didn't see a monster strapped to a gurney awaiting a lethal injection Tuesday night. He saw his nephew, "Donnie" - the kid who, long ago, played with his children, tickling them with impersonations of "Bert" from Sesame Street.
"The man who killed my mother wasn't Donnie," Knuckles said sadly. "They killed a sick man last night! I sat there and watched them kill my nephew."
Knuckles sobbed as he described how the family, from an adjoining room, watched their relative take his last breath.
"He turned to us and mouthed the words 'I love you,'" Knuckles recalled. "They gave him the drugs, he jumped once and then, just lay there . . . like he was asleep."
Some will say Jones' death was more humane than his grandmother's. Indeed, it appears so. But is there really such a thing as humane execution?
A report released early this month questions that theory. Researchers from the Miami Miller School of Medicine claim executions by lethal injection aren't painless or humane. They may not even meet veterinary standards for putting animals down, the researchers said.
National support for the death penalty is waning, according to the Death Penalty Information Center. Still, it's legal in 38 states. Blunt governs a state stubbornly clinging to the archaic notion that killing is the best punishment for another killing.
I don't support the death penalty but I'm not absolved. A man was killed Tuesday night and my state is prepared to kill more. We citizens, too, have a monster inside.
MISSOURI: Executions remain a monstrous thing, and I feel guilty
I killed a man Tuesday night.
It's not easy accepting responsibility for taking a life, but I do.
When Gov. Matt Blunt decided Tuesday to let the scheduled execution of convicted murderer Donald Jones move forward, he did so with Missourians in mind, he said.
"We have capital punishment in our state because we believe some crimes are so horrific and so terrible that the only reasonable penalty, the penalty that fits the crime, is indeed the death penalty," Blunt told reporters Tuesday. "And we will apply the death penalty this evening."
A few minutes after midnight, Jones died from the lethal combination of drugs pushed into his veins. The state's will was done. And I, as a Missouri citizen, must accept my part in the killing.
During his trial, Jones said "the monster" inside caused him to kill his grandmother 12 years ago. High on crack and desperate for drug money, Jones repeatedly stabbed and bludgeoned Dorothy Knuckles, 68, before trading her car for more crack cocaine.
Did illegal drugs cause a crazed killer's actions? I can't say. From what I read about the case, the murder wasn't premeditated. But the homicide I took part in Tuesday was. After all, the state debated it, scheduled it, provided a last meal of pizza, chicken strips, Pepsi and apple pie . . . then proceeded to kill a man.
What purpose did the execution serve? It wasn't vengeance. Family members - both to the victim and the murderer - didn't want vengeance. They forgave Jones and fought to have his sentence commuted to life in prison.
Age has a way of whipping young, foolish men into older, wiser men. I can think of no greater punishment than a lifetime of incarceration. Hell is life in a cage reliving the cruelty of one's stupid acts.
Proponents of the death penalty claim executions serve as a deterrent to crime. But there are arguments on the other side. The Washington-based Death Penalty Information Center cites FBI statistics showing that Southern states, which account for 80 % of the country's executions, have the highest murder rate.
Even if those favoring the death penalty are correct, I doubt if other cracked-out, drugged-up killers will think about Jones' death when the "monsters inside" lead them to unspeakable acts.
I went to see Jones' uncle, Matthew Knuckles, Wednesday. Knuckles and several other family members witnessed the execution at the new death chamber at the state prison in Bonne Terre.
Knuckles didn't see a monster strapped to a gurney awaiting a lethal injection Tuesday night. He saw his nephew, "Donnie" - the kid who, long ago, played with his children, tickling them with impersonations of "Bert" from Sesame Street.
"The man who killed my mother wasn't Donnie," Knuckles said sadly. "They killed a sick man last night! I sat there and watched them kill my nephew."
Knuckles sobbed as he described how the family, from an adjoining room, watched their relative take his last breath.
"He turned to us and mouthed the words 'I love you,'" Knuckles recalled. "They gave him the drugs, he jumped once and then, just lay there . . . like he was asleep."
Some will say Jones' death was more humane than his grandmother's. Indeed, it appears so. But is there really such a thing as humane execution?
A report released early this month questions that theory. Researchers from the Miami Miller School of Medicine claim executions by lethal injection aren't painless or humane. They may not even meet veterinary standards for putting animals down, the researchers said.
National support for the death penalty is waning, according to the Death Penalty Information Center. Still, it's legal in 38 states. Blunt governs a state stubbornly clinging to the archaic notion that killing is the best punishment for another killing.
I don't support the death penalty but I'm not absolved. A man was killed Tuesday night and my state is prepared to kill more. We citizens, too, have a monster inside.