[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----TEXAS, PENN., MISS., OHIO

Rick Halperin rhalperi at smu.edu
Sat Nov 15 14:51:56 CST 2014





Nov. 15



TEXAS----new execution date

Derrick Charles Has been given an execution date of May 12; it should be 
considered serious.

*******************

Executions under Rick Perry, 2001-present-----279

Executions in Texas: Dec. 7, 1982-present----518

Perry #--------scheduled execution date-----name---------Tx. #

280------------Dec. 3-------------------Scott Panetti---------519

281------------Dec. 11------------------Robert Ladd-----------520

282------------Jan. 14------------------Rodney Reed-----------521

283------------Jan. 15------------------Richard Vasquez-------522

284------------Jan. 21-------------------Arnold Prieto--------523

285------------Jan. 28-------------------Garcia White---------524

286------------Feb. 4--------------------Donald Newbury-------525

287------------Feb. 10-------------------Les Bower, Jr.-------526

288------------Mar. 11-------------------Manuel Vasquez-------527

289------------Mar. 18-------------------Randall Mays---------528

290------------Apr. 15-------------------Manual Garza---------529

291------------May 12--------------------Derrick Charles------530

(sources for both: TDCJ & Rick Halperin)





******************

Why the death penalty costs so much


"Other states are trying to abolish the death penalty," quipped Texas comedian 
Ron White, "my state's putting in an express lane."

Texas has been known for its high number of executions since the death penalty 
was reinstated in 1976, having killed off some 518 offenders to date. 
Proponents of the death penalty push for a shorter appellate process and 
expedited execution, while those opposed to the "murder for murder" policy 
advocate life and promise lower costs on the taxpayers.

Capital trials involving the death penalty are vastly different from their 
non-death counterparts, beginning with investigation and continuing through 
jury selection and the trial. The trial is likely followed by the appellate 
process.

Each part of the process carries a hefty price tag, and with an average of 10 
years in appeals while inmates are on death row, costs mount to the millions.

Locally, the last death penalty case tried in Tom Green County was the case of 
Luis Ramirez in 1999, who was sentenced to death and executed some 6 years 
later in 2005. Assistant District Attorney Bryan Clayton served as second chair 
for the prosecution in that case, marking his 5th death penalty case since 
1991.

He explains the differences between a death penalty capital murder trial and 
what he terms a "mini-cap", or capital murder where death is waived as 
beginning with jury selection, notes differences in the punishment phase of the 
trial, and compares the preparation for trial through the appellate process to 
a marriage between a prosecutor and a case.

Voir Dire

In the case of Luis Ramirez, Clayton estimates that he and Steve Lupton worked 
intermittently on preparing for trial for about a year before jury selection 
began. In the months preceding the trial, Clayton said, both he and Lupton were 
completely consumed by the case and worked solely on it through the sentencing.

The death penalty is not sought in all capital cases, and a judge cannot assign 
it; only a jury may hand down the punishment of death, and the jury selection 
process varies significantly in a death penalty case from a felony case.

Allison Palmer, 51st District Attorney, explained that in a typical felony 
case, roughly 45-75 potential jurors are called in for the jury selection 
process, voir dire. During voir dire, a judge addresses the jury, and both the 
state and defense do the same, while all 45-75 individuals are seated in the 
courtroom. The process generally takes a few hours and is finished by the 
afternoon.

In a capital case where the state is seeking the death penalty, a couple 
hundred potential jurors are called in and are given a written questionnaire 
that probes into their personal lives, experiences and preferences in an 
attempt to ascertain whether a person can be fair and impartial.

Both the state and defense usually submit their own written questionnaire and 
attempt to come to an agreement on what should be included from both sides, 
with the judge making the final ruling. Some of the questions are constant, 
while others are case-specific, such as questions about alcohol, should the 
substance be involved in the offense.

"The questions really delve into personal experiences, personal experiences 
with law enforcement, personal feelings on the death penalty for sure, 
involvements with the law and involvements with the legal system," Palmer said.

The number of pages varies, but averages at about 14, and includes open-ended, 
multiple choice, yes/no and scale-type questions. The questionnaire is 
completed in court and can take a while to complete.

"You can never commit a juror to your set of facts, but you can check their 
feelings on different things you know would come up in the trial," she said.

After the questionnaire is completed, jurors are taken individually to speak 
with the judge, state and defense attorneys. The entire process equates to 
weeks rather than hours.

"Voir dire may last 3 to 4 weeks," Clayton said. "You try to get 8 to 10 
prospective jurors interviewed per day and you are worn out because you spend 
probably each side over an hour with each one. Physically, it takes a toll on 
you. You can lose the case as a prosecutor in voir dire just based on a random 
draw of the jury, what kind of people you got."

The Trial

The real work of a death penalty trial takes place in the punishment phase, 
Clayton said. Guilt or innocence should essentially be open and shut, he said, 
because if there's doubt in that portion there will likely be a real battle 
when it comes to assessing punishment.

"The hardest part? The fact that you're asking 12 people to sit in the same 
courtroom with an individual and get them all 12 to agree unanimously and 
beyond a reasonable doubt that the evidence is sufficient to terminate that 
individual's life," he said. "It's hard enough to get 12 people to agree where 
to go to lunch, much less to kill somebody.

Clayton explained that the difficulty lies with convincing the jury that a 
person's past conduct warrants death, as one of the primary questions juries 
are to consider is whether or not they believe the individual is going to 
continue to be a threat to society both between and beyond prison walls.

"We're asking them to look into a crystal ball," he likened. "That's pretty 
scary right there. 1 dissenting vote and it's over, it's a life sentence."

In order to clear up the crystal, both prosecutors and defense attorneys spend 
an enormous amount of time, resources and effort calling witnesses and experts 
in the punishment phase after conviction.

1st-degree murder trials differ from other felony cases in that the defendant's 
personal lives are presented to the jury in much greater detail, allowing them 
to get an idea of what kind of person the defendant is. In a capital murder 
case, where the death penalty is sought, that attention is amplified, and 
investigators and private detectives are hired for both sides to track down 
information and witnesses that paint a picture of the defendant.

Former teachers, pastors, loves, cousins and friends are just some of those who 
may be called to the stand, as well as psychologists, investigators, law 
enforcement officers and technicians with specialized training.

Mental health becomes a big deal in capital cases because the Supreme Court 
says a defendant who is mentally retarded cannot be sentenced to death. Clayton 
said that once a prosecutor decides to pursue the death penalty, it isn't 
uncommon to see a defendant's IQ suddenly drop 10 points.

"A trial is called a trial because that's what it is," Clayton said. "A trial 
is a test; it's a test of the facts. And if you're going to put someone down in 
a hole, 6 feet under, you better be damn sure you're doing the right thing."

Married to the Case

Although the men Clayton prosecuted were all sentenced in the '90s, the work on 
his end was not finished until the fluids flowed and they were pronounced 
deceased. All death penalty cases are appealed, reviewed and scrutinized, 
lending to the lengthy period between sentencing and execution and some being 
overturned. Others "bounce around the appellate courts" for years or even 
decades, Clayton said, some resulting in a new trial.

"You see cases very occasionally get reversed," he said. "That tells me the 
review system works. Not all of the people the cases are reversed on are 
innocent. That just means their trial may have been flawed or some single piece 
of evidence may be flawed. Do they deserve a new trial because of that? Yes. 
Will the outcome be different? I don't know, but that's what that review 
process of for."

In 1988, Ted Calvin Cole, also known as the "dog-leash killer", was sentenced 
to death by a jury in Tom Green County. Former DA Steve Lupton tried the case. 
After "bouncing around the appeals courts" for 20 years, Cole was granted a new 
trial in April 2007 and was sentenced to life without parole.

"If you seek the death penalty, you are going to be married to that case not 
only for the time it takes to get it to trial, but the appellate end of it may 
go on for years and years and years," Clayton reflected. "Most of them, you 
have to realize that you're committing a huge, enormous block of time. We don't 
just scan the file, walk in and say what's on our mind."

Clayton's 1st capital case involving Kenneth Bruce took 12 years to run its 
course from sentencing to execution. The Luis Ramirez case took 6.

"We have several phases [of appeals] and each phase can have several, kind of 
bumps in the road," he said. "The 1st phase is all people who are convicted and 
given the death sentence following a capital murder trial have an automatic 
direct appeal to the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals in Austin. It's 
automatic."

Assuming the conviction is affirmed on direct appeal, the post-conviction 
process branches off in 2 directions, Clayton said. The 1st branch is a Writ of 
Habeas Corpus under the state courts; the 2nd branch is a Writ of Habeas Corpus 
under the federal courts. These may run parallel.

"A habeas corpus petition is not like a direct appeal," Clayton explained. "A 
direct appeal deals solely with legal issues in the conduct of the trial, 
procedural issues. When you get into the (state court) writ process, that 
usually focuses more on factual things, new evidence, conflicting evidence, 
undiscovered evidence at time of trial, ineffective assistance of counsel at 
trial, just a whole wide variety of things."

Clayton said the state-level habeas corpus writ is ultimately decided in 
Austin, after the district or trial court may or may not have a hearing to 
develop the new evidence.

At the federal level, the writ of habeas corpus functions much the same as the 
state-level petition, but operates on a higher level. The decision at the 
federal level takes place in federal district court and is reviewable by the 
U.S. Court of Appeals in New Orleans, and their decision is potentially 
reviewed by the U.S. Supreme Court, Clayton explained.

"So you can see it's a multi-layered, multi-leveled deal. Our office does the 
direct appeal. I have done them, I've argued twice at the Court of Criminal 
Appeals on direct appeal. I did Luis Ramirez's. I went down and did that one 
myself."

Ramirez's conviction was affirmed on direct appeal, and he was appointed a new 
attorney, who filed a writ of habeas corpus in Tom Green County stating he had 
new evidence. Once again, Clayton and Lupton had to argue against the evidence 
at a hearing held in Judge Woodward's court, who sent his findings to the 
attorney general's office, which handled the habeas petition to the Texas Court 
of Criminal Appeals.

"He was trying primarily the new evidence tag," Clayton said of Ramirez's 
petition. "He was claiming they had found some magical alibi witness and they 
brought the person in and we cross-examined him. It was very nebulous and the 
judge turned it down. I think they were (also) trying to raise some questions 
about the co-defendant's confession being used against him..."

The speed with which Ramirez made it through the appellate process has been 
described as "unprecedented." The average time on death row in Texas is 10.74 
years. In that time, inmates are going through the appellate process, but there 
are also changes occurring outside prison walls in that time. District 
attorneys and attorneys general may change over and different attitudes may 
prevail. All of these things can affect and extend the process.

"Even if you are successful at trial, it doesn't mean he's going to be executed 
any time in the foreseeable future," Clayton warned. "Certainty of a life 
sentence is oftentimes much better and, frankly, in some ways, I think it is an 
even more severe punishment. [Death penalty cases are] a severe commitment of 
time, money, resources, energy and no real certainty to it."

Big Bucks

Much has been said about the exorbitant cost of trying a death penalty case 
over a capital or 1st-degree murder trial in which death is waived, leaving 
many to wonder how it could cost more to kill somebody than to keep them alive 
in prison.

The Texas Department of Criminal Justice website provides information on death 
row inmates, which states that the average age of executed inmates is 39 years 
old. The average time spent on death row is 10.74 years, making offenders on 
average between 28 and 29 at the time of incarceration.

A 2011 study conducted by the Vera Institute of Justice states that the average 
annual cost of housing an inmate in Texas is roughly $21,390. This equates to 
$58.60 per day. If an inmate were 28 years old when he entered the prison 
system and lived for 40 years until death, the average cost of his 
incarceration by Vera's measure would equal $855,600.

Court documents from both the Ramirez and this year's Salazar cases reveal 
vastly different numbers as pertain to costs of legal proceedings in 
preparation for and during those trials.

Costs begin to accrue with investigation, which includes both the cost of 
detectives, psychiatrists and travel to meet witnesses, as examples. According 
to financial documents available at the District Clerk's Office, investigator 
fees in the Ramirez case came to nearly $32,000. There were no records readily 
available for psychiatrist and other expert fees.

Note: Due the age of the Ramirez case, not all documents have been filed 
electronically. The files are currently stored in roughly 15 separate legal 
boxes, and due to time constraints, could not be researched thoroughly. 
Information on all payments made to attorneys, investigators, witness travel, 
the jury and prosecutors (salary) could not be obtained. The numbers listed 
here reflect what was available on the criminal docket sheet.

The payments made in the recent Salazar trial to investigators was 
exponentially lower at $1,612.50. A forensic psychologists bill from the 
Salazar case was paid in the sum of $3,437.50; and payment to the defense 
attorney ran $10,269.98. The grand total, including court costs but excluding 
the prosecuting attorney's salary, came to $15,753.98. Salazar was 32 years old 
when convicted.

By comparison, defense attorneys' fees in the Luis Ramirez case came out to 
$145,651.03. However, rather than writing checks to one attorney as was the 
case in Salazar???s proceedings, two attorneys handled the trial of Ramirez and 
a new attorney was appointed during his habeas petition, who also had an 
assistant. Those attorneys officed in Midland and of course had to be briefed 
by previous counsel, as well as travel to and from San Angelo during the 
process.

"There are 2 sets of defense attorneys typically representing an offender these 
days in Tom Green there are - but typically in the past there has always been a 
1st chair and a 2nd chair," Palmer explained. "Attorneys' fees alone will go 
beyond $100,000. Then there are investigators that they hire that the courts 
will have to pay if a capital murder defendant is indigent, which most are."

Because investigation is so thorough in a death penalty case, investigators 
will often have to travel out of town or out of state if the defendant has 
lived anywhere else throughout their lives. If a witness is found beyond the 
county, travel costs of bringing that witness to trial are also added to the 
county's bill.

"Like Luis Ramirez..." Clayton said. "We brought in witnesses from Las Vegas, 
Nevada that knew things about him, we brought in witnesses from all around this 
area, the defense brought in witnesses from other states and we brought in 
experts, all of it at great, tremendous cost. I would suggest to you that in 
today's dollars one could not prosecute a death penalty case for anything less 
than $1 million. That's conservative."

Once the trial begins, costs begin to compound. Back when Luis Ramirez was 
tried, the payment received for jury duty was a meager $6-7, Clayton said. Now, 
potential jurors are paid $40 per day, and while a pool of 45-75 may be 
expensive on a typical felony case for day 1, voir dire generally ends and 
trials begin the same day, running 4 days to a week on average.

In Salazar's case, 58 people were called in for jury duty; 12 were selected 
with 2 alternates, and the trial lasted 4 days. The jury would have cost 
roughly $2,240 excluding the cost of voir dire.

We could not find that information for the Ramirez case, however given 150 
potential jurors on the 1st day of voir dire at $40 apiece, the county would 
pay $6,000. Clayton estimates voir dire in death penalty cases to take a matter 
of 2-4 weeks with their numbers gradually decreasing, and the Ramirez trial ran 
4 weeks long. Even back then at $7 per juror per day, the trial alone would 
have cost $2,940 for the panel.

Additional court reporter, expert, miscellaneous and appellate fees bring the 
cost of a death penalty case up to an estimated 3 to 4 times that of a 
non-death case, Palmer said.

"First just remember that every step of the way is through courts, prosecutors, 
assistant attorney generals, the defense lawyers that are involved in it - 
those are all funded by your tax dollars," Clayton said. "Every bit of it. They 
may come out of different pots. For example, back when we tried Luis Ramirez, 
every dime for his original trial was paid for by Tom Green County...Then the 
direct appeal: all Tom Green County money for everything. The 1107 writ (of 
habeas corpus), I'm a little more unclear as to what pot that came out of, but 
it was all tax dollars, be it from the state or from the county."

Prosecutors agreed that although the prices may be astronomical, they are not a 
factor when DA's consider whether to seek the death penalty.

(source: sanangelolive.com)






PENNSYLVANIA:

Pennsylvania man convicted of murder, state seeks death penalty


A jury on Friday convicted a Pennsylvania man of 1st-degree murder in the 
dismemberment of a woman whose body parts were found stuffed in garbage bags 
strewn along 2 highways, and prosecutors said they will seek the death penalty 
next week.

After 2 hours of deliberation, jurors convicted Charles Ray Hicks, 40, of all 3 
charges he faced in the beating, strangulation and dismemberment of Deanna 
Null, 36, of Scranton. Her remains were found in January 2008.

Showing no emotion as the verdict was read, Hicks was then handcuffed and led 
by sheriff's deputies out of the courtroom and back to a detention center where 
he has been held without bail.

Hicks, a former electrical contractor at the Tobyhanna Army Depot, was 
convicted of 1st-degree murder, abuse of a corpse and tampering with evidence.

The jury will return to Monroe County Court in Stroudsburg for the penalty 
phase of the trial on Monday. Prosecutors are set to ask for Hicks to be 
sentenced to death and the defense will seek life imprisonment.

Testimony in the 2-week trial turned on competing theories of whether Null's 
wounds were inflicted before or after she died.

In closing arguments, lead prosecutor Michael Mancuso recounted medical 
testimony concerning numerous blows to the woman's head, multiple fractures of 
her ribs and a prosecution expert's conclusion that she was alive at least 5 
minutes or more while she was being beaten.

"There's no reason for that other than hate and malice," Mancuso said.

He said it would take great effort to sever the woman's head, limbs and torso, 
as well as gash her breast and genital area.

"This isn't easy stuff to do," Mancuso said, laying out graphic photos, 
including one showing Null's lower torso cut in half.

Public defender Jason LaBar, representing Hicks, argued that Null may have 
suffered a seizure triggered by cocaine and alcohol abuse and hit her head on a 
table corner.

Hicks later cut up her body and disposed of the parts in what he called a "drug 
dump," a street term for dropping off a person who has overdosed, LaBar told 
jurors.

Null's body parts in garbage bags, found on a snowy day along two interstate 
highways in northeastern Pennsylvania, showed very little blood and were cut so 
precisely that troopers initially thought they may have been medical waste that 
fell off a truck.

(source: Reuters)

*************************

HIcks found guilty in grisly murder cas

e

Guilty is the verdict in the trial of a Monroe County man accused of murdering 
a woman and scattering her remains along 2 interstates in the Poconos.

Now Charles Hicks Jr. faces the death penalty.

His is convicted of the 2008 murder of 36 year old Deanna Null.

During the trial, jurors were told Hicks murdered and then dismembered Null, 
scattering her remains in trash bags along interstates 380 and 80.

The prosecution told jurors Hicks kept Null's hands to quote "Dominate, 
control, basically to hold onto a trophy of a woman he murdered."

But the defense claimed all of the evidence is circumstantial.

That medical experts who testified had conflicting theories as to whether Null 
was alive when she received blunt force trauma and strangulation marks.

Hicks' attorney says his client didn't kill Null and dismember her after she 
died from alcohol and cocaine use.

A few of Null's family members were in the courtroom throughout the trial.

They heard gruesome testimony and saw pictures of what was left of the woman 
they knew.

The family didn't want to talk after the verdict.

But the only person who came to the trial for Hicks did.

Pastor Leanon Traywick says since the murder he has been offering Hicks 
spiritual comfort.

"His family is in Texas and he was out here by himself and I just felt like he 
needed a friend. I mean it's a dark period in his life and he needed someone to 
talk to also," said Leanon Traywick.

With the conviction behind him, jurors must now decide if Hicks will get life 
in prison or the death penalty.

The district attorney's office did not want to comment about the verdict until 
after the penalty phase. That begins on Monday.

(source: WFMZ news)






MISSISSIPPI:

Father of murdered 13-year-old: "The death penalty is not enough"


2 men who fled to Texas, accused of murdering a Canton teen, are back in the 
Magnolia State. Tony and Teaonta Clark went before a judge on murder charges 
Friday afternoon, and tonight Tony and Teaonta Clark are being held in the 
Madison county jai, both facing capital murder charges for the shooting death 
of 13 year old Mohamed Saeed.

We talked to his father, about his personal tragedy, as his son's killers 
accused appeared in court. The Clarks are charged in the shooting death of 
13-year old Mohamed Saeed, who was behind the counter during the violent 
October robbery.

Their appearance was done by teleconference. Mohamed Saeed's father Fahd was in 
the front row. Both of the Clarks were given court appointed attorneys and 
denied bond.

"They didn't warn us or nothing, they just come in and started shooting, said 
Fahd Saeed"

He walked us through the murder of his son at his Canton store, which was also 
captured on surveillance cameras. Saeed says he was just a few feet from 
Mohamed when he was shot in the head, at point blank range.

"He's got both of his hands in his jacket, got here, got gun out, clicked gun, 
shot my son in the head." said Saeed: "He came holding the gun trying to shoot 
me in the head. I came straight around the corner, grabbed him. He put it in my 
side and shot me in the stomach. I think he was trying to kill me too, and just 
take off but there were customers walking in the door."

Saeed is still recovering from his gunshot wound, but he may never heal from 
losing his only son to what he calls senseless violence.

"I'm glad to be alive but I don't feel like I'm living without my son," said 
Saeed. "Without my son I'm not living."

Saeed believes he would be dead, but says Tony Clark's gun jammed. He says 
there's nothing that can bring his son back, no penalty strong enough for those 
who took his life.

"The death penalty is not enough for me, for my only son it's not enough," said 
Saeed. "They need to pay for my son. The death penalty is not enough."

(source: Mississippi News Now)






OHIO:

State bill aims to protect execution drug makers


Ohio lawmakers are rushing in a lame-duck session to shield makers of drugs 
used in executions from the public so that the state can resume carrying out 
the death penalty once a federal court moratorium expires in February.

Critics called the fast-tracked bill overly broad and potentially 
unconstitutional given its proposed restrictions on the judiciary and private 
contracts in addition to free speech questions.

The state has struggled to obtain its lethal injection drug of choice, the 
powerful sedative pentobarbital, because its European manufacturer refuses to 
make it available for that purpose.

The state's 1st use of its backup plan - a combination of midazolam, a 
barbiturate, and hydromorphone, a potent painkiller - resulted in the prolonged 
January execution of Dennis McGuire of Montgomery County.

Witnesses described him as gasping for air and making loud snorting sounds 
during the 26 minutes after the drugs began to flow.

The same 2-drug process later resulted in a similar outcome in Arizona.

The state has been unable to persuade a compounding pharmacy to duplicate 
pentobarbital from scratch. Concern that the pharmacy could face a backlash for 
its role has been cited as a possible reason.

"This is a very difficult issue, wherever you stand on the death penalty," Rep. 
Matt Huffman (R., Lima), told a House committee this week shortly after 
introducing the bill with Rep. Jim Buchy (R., Greenville).

"If it's going to be done, it needs to be done in the most professional way 
that's possible," Mr. Huffman said. "I don't know that knowing the identity of 
the people who are producing the product is crucial to the public, like many 
other things are."

The bill would exempt the identities of those involved in the execution process 
from state public records law, with the exception of the director of the state 
department of rehabilitation and correction and prison wardens.

It would be a civil violation for anyone to disclose the information, which 
would also be protected from discovery and subpoena in court. The bill would 
void provisions of contracts prohibiting the supply of drugs to the state for 
execution purposes, an apparent attempt to get around the prohibitions of drug 
makers who object to that use.

Dennis Hetzel, executive director of the Ohio Newspaper Association, hopes to 
persuade lawmakers to tailor the bill so that information about a drug maker 
would be redacted from documents that would otherwise remain public. The drug 
supplier would have to formally request that redaction and the information 
would eventually become public after a certain amount of time had lapsed.

"I have yet to see any evidence of real threats against these companies," Mr. 
Hetzel said. "We already have laws to protect individuals from real threats. 
What I'm hearing are anecdotal concerns. ... It seems to me that if you agree 
as a private business to take taxpayer dollars to do something that is 
controversial and a legitimate public policy, that's part of the heat in a 
corporate kitchen."

Rep. Matt Lundy (D., Elyria), a member of the House Policy and Legislative 
Oversight Committee considering the bill and a former Toledo TV anchor, said 
the bill is just the latest to shield previously public information.

"If this vendor makes a mistake in another state or multiple states, we 
wouldn't know it because we wouldn't know who the vendor is - a real inherent 
danger," he said.

(source: Toledo Blade)

*******************

Secrecy won't fix death penalty


It is no secret that Ohio has had many problems with executions over the last 
decade. In that time span, we have had 4 botched executions and 10 people 
granted clemency. These problems came to a head in 2014 with the botched 
execution of Dennis McGuire using experimental new drugs that prolonged the 
lethal injection and likely resulted in a torturous and unconstitutional 
execution.

With botched executions and growing controversy around lethal injections in 
Arizona, Oklahoma and elsewhere, a federal judge in Ohio rightfully paused 
executions until the state could adopt new protocols.

Given all of these problems, the most recent move from leaders in the Ohio 
Statehouse is downright confounding.

What is their solution to Ohio's execution problems?

Close the curtain and keep the public out.

Statehouse leaders have announced that they will rush through legislation 
during the last few weeks of 2014 that would shield drug manufacturers and 
medical professionals who assist in executions from public records laws. It 
would also provide those individuals with immunity from ethical or professional 
reprimands for their participation.

No matter what your position is on the death penalty, it is important to 
understand that this level of secrecy will be detrimental for Ohio. The 
government represents the people and should be accountable to us. We have laws 
that require government officials to provide public records and have open 
meetings in order to prevent corruption, abuse and incompetence. Taking a 
person's life is the ultimate punishment that the public can dole out, which 
means we have to take even greater pains to ensure the government does it 
humanely and legally.

Allowing anonymity for drug manufacturers is particularly problematic. Ohio 
would like to use compounding pharmacies, which are totally unregulated by the 
Food and Drug Administration for safety and efficacy. Compounding pharmacies 
make small batches of drugs, with each one being unique. This means that some 
batches might be more potent than another, and some might be contaminated. Only 
a few years ago, dozens of people in the United States died from a contaminated 
batch of steroids produced by a compounding pharmacy. And now Ohio leaders want 
to introduce more secrecy and less accountability to this situation?

Unfortunately, secrecy is the typical reaction of the government in any number 
of circumstances - when problems crop up, they want to hide the truth from the 
people.

Ohio has had its share of problems with lethal injections. Secrecy will only 
guarantee that those problems will continue. Whether you are a supporter or 
opponent of the death penalty, we all must agree that the government should 
play by the rules and must be accountable to us.

What is needed here is more accountability, not less. If we are to have a death 
penalty, the public, courts and condemned prisoners must all understand how 
executions are to be carried out and that they will comply with our laws. 
Anything less only violates the public's trust - and our Constitution.

(source: Opinion; Mike Brickner is senior policy director for ACLU of 
Ohio----cincinnati.com)




More information about the DeathPenalty mailing list