[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----TEXAS, PENN., N.C., S.C., LA.

[Rick Halperin]

June 24



TEXAS:

Visualization: A Shrinking Texas Death Row



The number of inmates on Texas' death row is falling.

At its peak in 1999, 460 men and women were living with a death sentence in 
Texas, according to the federal Bureau of Justice Statistics (BJS). Today, 
there are 260.

The reason for the decline isn't a rise in executions. In 2000, an all-time 
high of 40 inmates were executed in Texas, compared with 10 last year. So far 
this year, 9 inmates have been executed.

The main reason is a drop in new death sentences. In 1999, 48 people were 
sentenced to Texas death row, according to BJS data. In 2008, that number was 9 
- and has stayed in that range ever since. This year, there have been no new 
death sentences so far, according to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice 
(TDCJ).

Kathryn Kase, executive director of the Texas Defender Service, a nonprofit 
organization of death penalty attorneys, said that zero is significant.

"This is the longest we've gone in a calendar year in Texas without a new death 
sentence," Kase said. "Before this year, the longest that we've gone is through 
the first quarter."

Experts suggest several factors could be contributing to the falling number of 
death sentences, from a national decline in support for the death penalty to 
shortages of the lethal drugs used in executions. In 2005, the U.S. Supreme 
Court ruled that juvenile offenders could not face execution, lessening future 
sentences as well as sparing 29 offenders who were already sitting on death 
row.

But consistently, they point to a 2005 law that offered Texas prosecutors the 
option to pursue life-without-parole sentences against capital murder 
defendants. Previously, capital murder offenders who did not receive the death 
penalty were eligible for parole after 40 years.

"Life without parole allows us to go back and reverse our mistakes," Kase said. 
"We can be really safe in these cases."

Since that law was enacted, the number of life-without-parole sentences has 
increased nearly every year, according to TDCJ. Between 2007 and 2014, the 
number of life-without-parole sentences jumped from 37 to 96. There are more 
inmates in Texas serving life without parole than those with a death sentence.

(source: Texas Tribune)








PENNSYLVANIA:

Enforce death penalty



It would be interesting to know how many people have changed their minds 
concerning the death penalty after they read or watched the escapades of those 
recently escaped killers from New York.

It would be interesting to note also the entire cost of recapturing these 
killers. More than likely, if all costs are totaled up, it would be equivalent 
to more than a dozen workers' full pay for a year. And yet we fed the prisoners 
and gave them care that would probably have been delayed for some needy 
veterans.

A recent example locally was the killer who was responsible for the deaths of 
four innocent people after he served 15 years for a previous killing. It is 
certainly time for change.

Just what is the difference between a life sentence and the death penalty here 
in Pennsylvania, especially Northampton County?

Richard K. Geyer

Hellertown

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

Whose opinions on death penalty matter?



Unless someone in your family has been the victim of any death involving 
crimes, you should stay out of any death penalty discussions and leave them to 
folks who have suffered this terrible experience.

Let people who know about being related to the victim of a murder tell you what 
you don't know and hopefully never will. It costs law-abiding, honest citizens 
of our state more than $45,000 a year to keep each one of these parasites alive 
and comfortable in prison while others suffer the pain of losing a loved one. 
Families of victims are sentenced to a life of suffering

. We could do a lot more good with the $45,000 for the citizens of Pennsylvania 
and for the families of victims of these parasites who find pleasure in 
murdering. Forgiveness is always available for these parasites; then put them 
down for society's good and theirs.

Gregg S. Heilman

Allentown

(source for both: Allentown Morning Call)








NORTH CAROLINA:

roposed budget cut could delay Wake death penalty trials



Nathan Holden is accused of killing his in-laws at their Wendell home and 
trying to kill his wife last year. His trial is set for November, but it might 
be postponed because his state-appointed attorneys' jobs are in jeopardy.

The Senate version of the 2015-16 state budget eliminates 7 positions from the 
North Carolina Capital Defenders Office in Durham, including 4 lawyers who are 
handling 22 murder cases across the state.

If the positions are eliminated when the House and the Senate reach a 
compromise spending plan, the state will have bring in private attorneys who 
will need to get up to speed on the cases, costing time and money.

"We're going to lose money in the short-term. We're going to delay cases," said 
Tom Maher, executive director of the state Office of Indigent Defense Services, 
which includes the Capital Defenders Office.

"It's vitally important for the system and for the defendant that the defendant 
be well-represented," Maher said. "A jury that's going to be asked to make a 
decision - literally a life or death decision - should be presented with a full 
picture, not just of what the state says but the defense and the defendant's 
background, so they have what they need to make and incredibly difficult 
decision."

The proposed cuts not only slow the court system, they also affect victims' 
families.

LaTonya Taylor survived the shooting that Holden is accused of, but her parents 
did not.

"I understand what the state is doing, but I would be devastated if the trial 
was delayed," Taylor said. "My family and I are ready to face this so that we 
can move forward and continue healing."

"It prolongs everything," said her brother, Sylvester Taylor. "It can be 
frustrating at times, but the outcome is out of our hands. We will just 
continue to move forward."

Three other death penalty trials are pending in Wake County: Travion Smith, who 
faces a September trial in the death of a woman in her North Hills apartment, 
Gregory Crawford, who is charged with killing 2 people in Fuquay-Varina, and 
Curtis Jackson, who is charged with killing a man in southeast Raleigh and 
setting a fire to cover up the crime.

Sen. Stan Bingham, R-Davidson, said state spending needs to be reined in, and 
with a crime rate on the decline, the Capital Defenders Office seemed like a 
logical choice for a cut.

"It was a rather large expense," said Bingham, co-chairman of the Senate 
Appropriations Committee on Justice and Public Safety. "If you've got 9 
attorneys, you've got 2 cases (each) a year."

The local public defenders offices will be counted on to pick up some of the 
slack, but the state will have to use taxpayer money to hire private attorneys 
to defend many capital cases.

Wake County Public Defender Charles Caldwell said his staff handles more than 
10,000 cases a year, most of them felonies, and doesn't have much time to spare 
on a death-penalty case.

"If an attorney is tied up representing a death penalty client, that's going to 
take a good part of that attorney's time," Caldwell said. "Our office is all 
but full with the murder cases it can take right now."

(source: WRAL news)








SOUTH CAROLINA:

Why the South Carolina shooting suspect should not be called a terrorist



Was the massacre of 9 people at the Mother Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, 
South Carolina an act of terrorism? Almost certainly, yes. Does this mean we 
should be calling the suspect, Dylann Roof, a terrorist, and prosecuting him as 
one? Probably not.

There is no single, universally accepted definition of "terrorism," but the 
bare minimum on which terrorism scholars generally agree happens to be summed 
up in federal law, which defines domestic terrorism as violent crime intended 
"(i) to intimidate or coerce a civilian population; (ii) to influence the 
policy of a government by intimidation or coercion; or (iii) to affect the 
conduct of a government by mass destruction, assassination or kidnapping." Put 
more simply, terrorists target civilians and do so in ways intended for maximum 
effect - to spread terror - in order to draw attention to their cause. From 
what we know so far about Dylann Roof's apparent motivation and behavior, this 
definition fits.

Many people have noted that the only obvious difference between Roof and the 
people Americans have in recent years called terrorists is that Roof is white 
and not Muslim. And many people have been arguing that we should be calling 
Roof a terrorist as well. One petition, calling on the Department of Justice to 
prosecute Roof as a terrorist, has gathered over 50,000 signatures. Another 
petition, and many articles, have demanded that the media call Roof a 
terrorist.

But when we talk about how to label an act in the public sphere, we are arguing 
not only about the accuracy of a term but also about the purpose of using one 
word rather than another. Calling Dylann Roof a terrorist could have 3 kinds of 
consequences: legal, extralegal and rhetorical.

The petition addressed to the DOJ argues that it is imperative both to remove 
the case from the jurisdiction of the state of South Carolina and to prosecute 
it as an act of terrorism. Indeed, federal terrorism prosecutions are harsh, 
thanks in part to mandatory sentencing guidelines that include the so-called 
terrorism mark-up, which punish an illegal act more harshly if it was connected 
to an act of terrorism than if it was not. The wisdom and logic of these 
guidelines is questionable. One of the most remarkable cases of their 
application is that of the Newburgh Four, a group of poor black men who were 
blatantly entrapped by the FBI - and sentenced to 25 years in prison despite 
the judge's expressed belief that they were guilty primarily of greed and 
"buffoonery."

If prosecuted as a terrorist under federal law, Roof would likely face the 
death penalty. But the governor of South Carolina has already called for the 
death penalty in his case. Punishment doesn't get any harsher than that, so 
calling Roof a terrorist would serve no clear pragmatic legal purpose.

The term "terrorism" has extra-Constitutional consequences: it opens the door 
to wiretapping, phone tapping, and other sorts of surveillance. It has opened 
the door to torture. I am fairly certain that the people calling for Roof to be 
labeled a "terrorist" don't want more of that. Nor is the argument being made 
that there is a hidden plot or a conspiracy that needs to be uncovered in this 
case.

The rhetorical use of the word "terrorism" is probably the most salient here, 
even for people who appear to be making a legal argument. Journalist Glenn 
Greenwald has argued that the Dylann Roof case demonstrates that "terrorism" is 
a meaningless term that has no consistent application. I would say that we use 
the term when we want to "other" the perpetrator, to define him or her as both 
less than human and possessed of superhuman powers.

The federal government has just finished prosecuting another 21-year-old 
American for terrorism: Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, who will be sentenced by a federal 
judge in Boston on Wednesday for his role in the 2013 Boston Marathon bombing. 
I have written a book about the Tsarnaev brothers, and in the 2 months since it 
was published, I have been accused, in print, of having "too much empathy" and 
of engaging in the "narrative of Muslim immigrant victimhood." I don't know if 
there is such a thing as having "too much empathy," but I am reasonably certain 
that does not describe me. I also have no patience for victim narratives of any 
sort. But I do think that the Boston bombers' life during the decade they spent 
in the United States and in the years before they came here is relevant to 
understanding their actions. More to the point, I think it is possible to gain 
some understanding of why they did what they did - not to justify their crime, 
nor to see it as pre-determined, but to gain a textured view of what happened, 
and perhaps of why these kinds of crimes occur.

Using the word "terrorism" does not bring us any closer to that understanding. 
Dzhokhar Tsarnaev will be sentenced to death; the judge in the case is bound by 
the jury's verdict. The jury, for its part, arrived at its decision almost 
instantly, taking a day and a half to go through a 24-page questionnaire - just 
enough time to read out instructions and questions and take a count on each 
vote. The argument against the death penalty - and for life imprisonment 
without the possibility of parole - was, in essence, that the defendant was not 
a monster but a person. The problem isn't that the jury rejected this argument: 
the problem is that it didn't even entertain it. The way the word "terrorist" 
is used in the United States, in the media or in the courts, precludes seeing 
someone who took part in a terrorist act as a human being.

That, in turn, precludes understanding. Writing off horrific crimes as 
incomprehensible and irrational makes things easier in the short run - by 
giving us permission to stop thinking - but in the long run it ensures that 
crimes that stem from the same roots will be repeated again and again.

That's why we shouldn't be calling Dylann Roof a terrorist. In fact, at this 
point, we would be better off retiring the word altogether.

(source: Reuters)








LOUISIANA:

Executions on hold for at least a year as Louisiana sorts out death penalty 
method



Executions in Louisiana are on hold for at least a year because the state 
doesn't have the drugs needed to put inmates to death, according to a court 
filing and a lawyer for a convicted child-killer.

Lawyers for Christopher Sepulvado and the state Department of Corrections were 
supposed to be in federal court Thursday to schedule a trial on the 
constitutionality of Louisiana's method of execution.

Instead, a federal judge on Tuesday delayed the trial and Sepulvado's execution 
- as well as 4 others on death row - until July 2016 as Louisiana tries to 
figure out how it can carry out the death penalty.

This is the 2nd time in a year that the state has asked to delay the trial.

States around the country have struggled to execute prisoners because of 
shortages of lethal injection drugs. In a few cases, it's taken an unusually 
long time for inmates to die from new drug combinations.

In the motion to delay the hearing, Department of Corrections attorney James 
Hilburn wrote that "it would be a waste of resources and time to litigate this 
matter at present" because the facts in the case are changing. He wrote that he 
expects those issues to be "more settled" by July 2016.

Hilburn declined to elaborate on the reasons for the delay.

Louisiana's current death-penalty protocol calls for a mix of hydromorphone and 
midazolam, the same drugs used last summer during an Arizona execution that 
took nearly 2 hours to complete. Louisiana's last known supplies of the drugs 
expired earlier this year.

Mercedes Montagnes, a lawyer for Sepulvado, said the state "came to us after 
they were unable to locate any legal source for lethal injection drugs and 
asked for another year to come up with a new method of execution or source of 
drugs."

Sepulvado, who was convicted of beating his stepson with a screwdriver and then 
submerging his body in scalding water, has delayed his execution several times 
in the past 2 years.

In his lawsuit, he argues that the state's execution method violates his 
constitutional protection against cruel and unusual punishment.

As part of that lawsuit, Sepulvado has sought to learn the exact procedure 
Louisiana will use to put him to death. The state has fought such disclosures 
in court and in response to public-records requests filed by The Lens.

Meanwhile, Louisiana corrections officials have gotten more creative in getting 
their hands on execution drugs and have considered new ways to carry out the 
death penalty.

In January 2014, as Sepulvado's last execution date approached, the Louisiana 
Department of Corrections turned to Lake Charles Memorial Hospital for one of 
the 2 drugs it needed to execute him.

According to a hospital spokesman, the state lied to the Lake Charles 
pharmacist, saying the hydromorphone was for "a medical patient" rather than a 
prisoner on death row.

"At no time was Memorial told the drug would be used for an execution," 
spokesman Matt Felder said at the time.

The state considered getting another drug from an out-of-state compounding 
pharmacy not licensed in Louisiana, which would have been illegal.

In 2014, the Legislature considered reinstating electrocution. It's been 
outlawed since 1991.

At the request of Department of Corrections Secretary Jimmy LeBlanc, the bill 
was changed to drop electrocution and instead conceal details about executions, 
including the source of execution drugs. It was never passed.

Other states, including Arizona, Missouri and Oklahoma, have passed such 
secrecy laws.

In February, Louisiana corrections officials asked legislators to allow them to 
use nitrogen, which has never been tried in the U.S. No bill was introduced.

Death-penalty opponents have responded to drawn-out executions around the 
country by calling execution methods "experimental."

Last year, a prisoner in Oklahoma tried to rise from the gurney after his 
injections began. In April, the U.S. Supreme Court heard arguments on the 
constitutionality of that state's execution method.

That execution used midazolam, 1 of the 2 drugs called for by Louisiana. It 
prompted Louisiana officials to say they would reconsider the drug.

The state has not said what method it would use instead.

"Obviously whatever plan the state comes up with will have to be evaluated by 
the court for its constitutionality," Montagnes said.

Other death-row inmates who won stays of execution with Tuesday's ruling are:

--Jesse Hoffman, who was convicted and sentenced to death in 1998 for 
kidnapping, raping and fatally shooting Covington resident Mary "Molly" Elliot 
in 1996

--Bobby Hampton, who was convicted of robbing a liquor store in Shreveport and 
causing the death of employee Philip Russel Coleman in 1995

--Nathaniel Code, a Shreveport man convicted of four killings between 1984 and 
1987

--Kevan Brumfield, who was convicted and sentenced to death in 1995 for the 
1993 murder of Baton Rouge police officer Betty Smothers

Of the 5, only Sepulvado has been given an execution date.

Lawyers are set to meet July 11, 2016, to set a new trial date in his lawsuit.

(source: The Lens)

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

Orleans Parish DA Leon Cannizzaro could face pressure to pursue death penalty 
in Travis Boys case



For all the killing that plagues New Orleans, the death penalty has essentially 
been phased out of the city's criminal justice system during the last 2 
decades.

District Attorney Leon Cannizzaro has sought capital punishment sparingly since 
taking office in 2008, and Orleans Parish juries have become decidedly wary of 
sending even the most depraved criminals to death row. They're rarely asked to 
do it.

In the coming months, however, Cannizzaro could face more pressure than he has 
in years to pursue the death penalty in the case of Travis Boys, the 
33-year-old accused of fatally shooting New Orleans Police Officer Daryle 
Holloway last weekend in a brazen escape from custody. Police captured Boys 
early Sunday after an exhaustive manhunt.

Louisiana law defines the slaying of a peace officer as 1st-degree murder, 
affording prosecutors the option of seeking a capital verdict if they see fit. 
In the face of what appears to be strong evidence, including footage captured 
by Holloway's body-worn camera, Cannizzaro will have to decide whether to 
expend limited resources on a death penalty prosecution that could play out for 
years. The 2nd-term district attorney, who declined to comment for this 
article, could also seek a punishment of life in prison, the only other 
sentence available for the murder of a policeman.

Donald "Chick" Foret, a former prosecutor who has followed Cannizzaro's office 
closely, said he believes "the community is going to demand that he seek the 
death penalty" against Boys. "If you're not going to do it in this case, with a 
cop killer, you might as well just take it off the books," Foret said.

Before announcing his intentions, Cannizzaro likely will weigh the wishes of 
Holloway's family, as well as the so-called aggravating circumstances of Boys' 
case. He might also take into account Boys' previous convictions for aggravated 
escape, carjacking and cruelty to juveniles, among others.

"Even though on paper it's clearly a capital case, I think what you will see is 
the DA's office is going to review all the facts," said Rafael Goyeneche, a 
former prosecutor and president of the Metropolitan Crime Commission. "It's not 
like they're going to consider offering this offender manslaughter. It's either 
going to be life (in prison) or death."

The calculus is far simpler for many law enforcement officials in New Orleans, 
who consider Holloway's killing a personal affront to the rule of law. Since 
the officer's death, some of Holloway's colleagues have struggled to put into 
words the feeling of shock and devastation that has gripped them.

"It's the fact that we are responsible for the safety of the public, and when 
we fail to do that for ourselves, it's an enormous blow," said Capt. Michael 
Glasser, president of the Police Association of New Orleans. Glasser said he 
supports the death penalty in Boys' case, adding he would be surprised if 
Cannizzaro decided not to pursue it. "I think the only thing more egregious 
than this (type of killing) is when there are multiple victims," he said.

Donovan Livaccari, an attorney for the Fraternal Order of Police, said that 
talk among the ranks hasn't yet turned from Boys' arrest to his prosecution. He 
noted, however, that "police officers are generally law-and-order folks, and 
(capital punishment) is the law in Louisiana."

"They will be interested in seeing that justice is done," Livaccari said, 
referring to the evidence against Boys as "pretty damning."

Capital punishment has fallen into steep decline around the country amid a 
parade of DNA exonerations and the growing acceptance by juries of alternative 
sentences like life without parole. Like several other states, Louisiana has 
struggled to procure lethal injection drugs in the face of a manufacturing 
shortfall. The state has not executed a prisoner since January 2010, when 
Gerald Bordelon waived his right to an appeal. Before that, the state's last 
execution happened in 2002.

In New Orleans, a city that has no shortage of heinous murders, the death 
penalty has become almost a relic. Death verdicts were not uncommon during the 
tenure of former District Attorney Harry Connick Sr., but they had grown rare 
by the time Connick left office in 2003. Cannizzaro, who took the helm in 2008, 
has sought capital punishment on occasion, but an Orleans Parish jury has not 
sentenced a defendant to death in nearly 6 years.

And that sentence, in the case of quintuple murderer Michael "Mike-Mike" 
Anderson, was overturned within months. Anderson, who slaughtered 5 teens in 
Central City, is serving life in federal prison. Before Anderson, the city's 
last death sentence came in September 1997 in the case of Phillip Anthony, a 
man convicted of fatally shooting 3 employees at Louisiana Pizza Kitchen.

Capital cases are inherently complicated to prosecute and often take several 
years to come to trial. To secure a death sentence, prosecutors must persuade 
all 12 jurors in both the guilt and penalty phases of a bifurcated trial, while 
non-capital cases in Louisiana - even for crimes that carry a mandatory life 
sentence - can be decided even with a split verdict of 10-2.

Even after conviction, capital cases tend to drag on because there is a more 
robust appeal process.

"In a lot of these cases, the family members are looking for closure and they 
don't want to see a case remain open and subject to the lengthy appellate 
process," Goyeneche said.

Still, the callous killing of a police officer in the line of duty might be 
viewed as a horse of a different color, even by the most liberal Orleans Parish 
jury, said Roger Jordan, a former assistant district attorney under Connick who 
prosecuted Anthony. Not only had Holloway been carrying out his lawful duties 
at the time he was shot, Jordan said, but Boys also is accused of aggravated 
escape, a contemporaneous felony, and eluding capture for an entire day.

"He just shot him in cold blood, and I wouldn't put it past an Orleans jury to 
give this defendant the death penalty because these facts just scream for it," 
Jordan said. "I couldn't see (Cannizzaro) taking this as a non-capital case."

Death penalty opponents said they hoped a more circumspect and dispassionate 
approach would prevail. Beth Compa, an attorney with The Promise of Justice 
Initiative, encouraged authorities "not to expend state money on a policy that 
does not deter crime and is based upon anger or revenge.

"We abhor what happened to Officer Holloway," Compa said. But even in cases 
like Boys' and the church massacre last week in South Carolina, she said, 
officials should examine "the root causes of violence, and place funds and 
support where they are needed most - in crime prevention, victim assistance and 
police services."

In the meantime, Boys has been jailed without bail and appointed 2 defense 
attorneys, including 1 who heads the capital division of the Orleans Public 
Defenders.

Holloway's uncle, New Orleans attorney David Belfield, said the family remains 
in mourning and hasn't yet broached the topic of capital punishment. He said 
Holloway's mother "demanded that (Boys) be treated fairly" upon his arrest, 
apparently worried her son's colleagues might be tempted to exact retribution 
on behalf of their slain brother.

"She didn't want the story to be about the mistreatment of the perpetrator," 
Belfield said.

(source: The New Orleans Advocate)