[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----TEXAS, VA., GA., FLA., LA., OHIO, TENN.

[Rick Halperin]

April 15




TEXAS:

Death Row's Race Problem----The case of a Texas death-row inmate, now before 
the Supreme Court, points to the troubling racial history of capital punishment


Time may be running out for Duane Buck, a death row inmate in Texas since 1997. 
Next week the U.S. Supreme Court will consider whether to hear Mr. Buck's 
latest - and likely last - appeal. His argument largely rests on the use of 
damaging racial speculation during the sentencing phase of his trial. Mr. 
Buck's supporters claim he is being executed because he is black. That is a 
stretch, given the facts of his crime, but his case does present a substantial 
challenge to the death penalty as it has been applied historically.

There is no disputing Mr. Buck's guilt, though the more gruesome details have 
been airbrushed from the briefs and petitions now propelling his appeal. 21 
years ago, Mr. Buck forced his way into the home of Debra Gardner, an 
ex-girlfriend, and began shooting. Within minutes, 2 people (both black) were 
dead and another (also black) was critically wounded. Ms. Gardner's 13-year-old 
daughter jumped on Mr. Buck's back to stop him, screaming, "Duane, don't shoot, 
don't kill my mama," while Ms. Gardner pleaded for mercy from her knees. In the 
police car, Mr. Buck joked about the killings, telling one officer, "The b- got 
what she deserved."

An execution seemed likely. Mr. Buck's rampage involved a double murder; 1 of 
the victims was a mother; he had a previous conviction for cocaine; and he 
showed no remorse. Most important, the crime occurred in Harris County, Texas.

Since 1976, when the Supreme Court reinstated capital punishment following a 
short moratorium, 537 of the 1,434 executions in the U.S. have occurred in 
Texas. Harris County, home to greater Houston, has accounted for 126 of them - 
24% of Texas' total. (The total for Travis County, home to more liberal Austin, 
is 6.) Were Harris County a state, it would rank 2nd, behind only Texas itself, 
in the number of executed offenders. Its prosecutors have been well-versed in 
managing capital cases and well-funded in guiding them to completion.

The jury deciding Mr. Buck's case quickly found him guilty. But trouble arose 
in the sentencing phase. In 1976, the Supreme Court had fretted over, but let 
stand, a section of the Texas death penalty statute that requires jurors to 
determine whether the defendant is likely to "commit acts of violence 
constituting a continuing threat to society." In short, it asks jurors to 
speculate about someone's future conduct in a decision involving life and 
death.

Psychologist Walter Quijano, an expert witness called by the defense, testified 
that Mr. Buck was a model prisoner who had committed a crime of passion that he 
was unlikely to repeat. But Dr. Quijano's written assessment contained 
"statistical factors" defining Mr. Buck's behavior, and 1 of these was race. 
Being black, he thought, increased the "probability" of violent behavior in the 
future.

During cross-examination, the prosecution focused on this part of Dr. Quijano's 
report, asking him if it was correct that "the race factor, black, increases 
the future dangerousness for various complicated reasons." Dr. Quijano answered 
"yes."

Dr. Quijano couldn't be reached to comment. In 2013 he told CNN, "They pick 
that one piece of testimony and twist it and make it look like race causes 
people to commit crimes, which is stupid."

Some believe that Dr. Quijano was simply stating an unfortunate truth. 
Black-on-black violent crime is epidemic in metropolitan areas, including 
Harris County, where the homicide rate is 3.1 per 100,000 inhabitants for 
whites, and 16.6 per 100,000 for blacks. It is no surprise, therefore, that 
blacks comprise 43% of the death row inmates in Texas, while making up barely 
12% of the state's population.

But there is a deeper, more troubling racial dimension to such cases. According 
to data from the Death Penalty Information Center, 72% of the nation's 
executions since 1976 have occurred in the 11 former slaveholding states of the 
Old Confederacy, where lynchings and executions were routinely employed as 
methods of racial control. Between the end of the Civil War in 1865 and 1976, 
87% of those executed in Mississippi were African-Americans, a figure slightly 
above the overall Southern average of 80%. Most Southerners put to death for a 
nonlethal crime in those years were blacks accused of robbing or sexually 
assaulting a white. Historians of the era have found a long record of 
trumped-up rape cases, like the one portrayed in the novel "To Kill a 
Mockingbird."

A few years ago, the NAACP's Legal Defense Fund hired criminologist Ray 
Paternoster to study the impact of race on death penalty prosecutions in Harris 
County during the 1990s, when Mr. Buck's trial occurred. He found that 
prosecutors were 3 times more likely to seek the death penalty for blacks than 
for whites under similar circumstances. What he didn't consider - because it 
had no direct bearing on Mr. Buck's case - is perhaps the key factor in death 
penalty cases: the race of the victim.

Previous studies have shown that defendants are far more likely to be 
prosecuted for capital murder and sentenced to death when the victim is white. 
In places like Harris County, this still holds true. According to the Texas 
Department of Criminal Justice, the majority of African-Americans from Harris 
County on death row were convicted of killing a white, despite the high number 
of black-on-black homicides in the Houston area. (Indeed, Mr. Buck himself was 
offered a plea deal of life in prison for his double-murder, but he refused.) 
Equally important, every white awaiting execution from Harris County was 
convicted of killing another white. Here are signs that white lives do matter 
more than black lives, at least in capital cases.

Change may be coming. Texas currently houses 246 death row inmates, but the 
pipeline that supplies them appears to be closing. In 1999, Texas juries sent 
48 defendants to death row; in 2015, they sent just 3 - none of them 
African-American and none from Harris County.

Many reasons have been given for this shift - the enormous cost of 
death-penalty cases, the racial imbalance, the stories of innocent men removed 
from death row. But the best explanation may be the law passed in 2005 that 
offers the option of life in prison without parole. Increasingly, Texas juries 
are taking advantage of it, regardless of the prosecutor's recommendation.

What about Duane Buck? In 2000, Texas Attorney General John Cornyn (now a U.S. 
senator) identified a half-dozen other capital cases in which Dr. Quijano 
testified about the dangers posed by minority defendants, noting that it was 
"inappropriate to allow race to be considered as a factor in our criminal 
justice system." 5 of the 6 defendants received new sentencing hearings; all 
were resentenced to death. But the state's next attorney general, Greg Abbott 
(now governor), opposed a similar hearing for Mr. Buck on the grounds that Dr. 
Quijano had been a witness for the defense. Thus, "Buck's constitutional rights 
were not violated because Buck himself presented the testimony about which he 
now complains."

Even if granted a new hearing, Mr. Buck likely will be executed. But to deny 
him a chance, given the inflammatory content of Dr. Quijano's words and the 
distressing racial history of capital punishment, would be a mistake. It is now 
up to the Supreme Court to see the larger picture, beyond the technicalities of 
who testified for whom, while nudging justice forward along the way.

(source: Prof. David Oshinsky is a member of the history department at New York 
University and the director of Medical Humanities at NYU Langone Medical 
Center. His book "Polio: An American Story" won the 2006 Pulitzer Prize for 
history----Wall Street Journal)






VIRGINIA:

Gov. McAuliffe death-penalty plan revives legal issues over pharmacy-supplied 
drugs


Pharmacies that go along with Gov. Terry McAuliffe's plan to secretly supply 
Virginia with execution drugs risk breaking state and federal laws governing 
controlled substances, a top administration official said in internal emails 
going back more than 2 years.

McAuliffe, a Democrat, this week proposed allowing the state to hire 
compounding pharmacies to make lethal-injection drugs, which have become scarce 
amid public pressure on American pharmaceutical companies and a European export 
ban.

He proposed a similar idea last year, but it collapsed in the General Assembly 
because of concerns over the secrecy provisions meant to shield the pharmacies 
from political heat. Given the increasing scarcity of the drugs, the plan may 
have a better chance of being approved when the legislature reconvenes 
Wednesday.

The state's top official for pharmacy oversight flagged problems with the idea 
as early as 2014, according to emails obtained by The Washington Post.

"Under federal law, a traditional pharmacy ... may only compound pursuant to a 
valid prescription," Caroline Juran, executive director of the Virginia Board 
of Pharmacy, wrote in a February 2014 email. "This bill as written authorizes a 
pharmacy to compound upon written certification by the Director of the 
Department of Corrections. This would obviously not constitute a valid 
prescription."

But the McAuliffe administration said state and federal courts have 
consistently ruled that executions do not constitute the practice of medicine, 
pharmacy or anesthesiology, so the normal rules should not apply.

"Virginia's not the 1st state to do this," said McAuliffe's top counsel, Carlos 
Hopkins. "To the extent that we're following the practices of other states, I 
don't believe it will be a conflict."

Juran did not respond to requests for comment.

In her emails, she wrote that if a doctor wrote a prescription for 
lethal-injection drugs, that would probably violate state and possibly federal 
laws requiring that drugs be prescribed only for medicinal or therapeutic 
purposes. And she questioned whether the secrecy provisions would prevent the 
Bureau of Prisons from investigating a pharmacy if something went wrong with an 
execution.

Juran consulted William Harp, executive director of the Virginia Board of 
Medicine, on the proposal.

"Is there anything in [the] law that would prohibit a prescriber from issuing a 
prescription which 'does harm'?" she wrote to him. "Or is the oath of doing no 
harm just that?"

Harp replied with examples of unprofessional conduct enumerated in state code. 
The offenses can result in the suspension or revocation of a medical license, 
imposition of fines or other punishment by the Board of Medicine.

"Well, let's see ........... probably only #8 below," he wrote. The offense he 
referred to reads: "Prescribing or dispensing any controlled substance with 
intent or knowledge that it will be used otherwise than medicinally, or for 
accepted therapeutic purposes, or with intent to evade any law with respect to 
the sale, use, or disposition of such drug."

McAuliffe's current proposal would address that issue by exempting pharmacies 
that compound the lethal-injection drugs from normal state oversight.

A 2012 ruling by Richmond Circuit Judge Gregory Rupe appears to support that 
approach. "Specifically, the Court rules that execution by lethal injection by 
the Commonwealth of Virginia is not the regulated practice of medicine, 
pharmacy or anesthesiology," he wrote.

The exemptions nevertheless inflamed civil libertarians.

"This is authorized human experimentation in secret without any professional 
oversight," said Claire Guthrie Gasta???aga of the American Civil Liberties 
Union. "The director of the Department of Corrections is now going to be able 
to work with people and get drugs, and all they're expected to do is make sure 
it's listed on the outside of the bottle when it expires."

Administration officials said federal courts have supported the idea that 
normal medical and pharmaceutical regulations governing compounding pharmacies 
do not apply to the mixing of execution drugs.

"Four states have successfully proceeded with this legislation, and no court 
has accepted the arguments against this legislation," said Brian Moran, 
Virginia's secretary of public safety and homeland security.

But Megan McCracken, a lawyer with the Death Penalty Clinic at the University 
of California at Berkeley School of Law, said federal laws would still apply.

"[W]hile Gov. McAuliffe's proposed bill would exempt the purchase and provision 
of compounded drugs from the requirements of VA law, the transaction would 
nonetheless violate federal law," she wrote in an email.

Christopher C. Kelly, a spokesman for the federal Food and Drug Administration, 
declined to comment.

(source: The Virginian-Pilot)






GEORGIA:

Joshua Bishop, executed March 31, was a 'powerful witness for forgiveness'


Joshua Bishop, who died by lethal injection March 31, was remembered by his 
faith community, friends and supporters at a funeral Mass celebrated April 12 
at St. Pius X Church in Conyers by Father Tom Zahuta.

Bishop, who became a Catholic in prison, regularly attended Mass and other 
faith gatherings. He met with visiting deacons in the Jackson prison, 
particularly Deacon Richard Tolcher and Deacon Norm Keller. He was 41.

Following the Mass, he was interred at Honey Creek Woodlands, at the Monastery 
of the Holy Spirit.

The night of the execution, a vigil was held on the grounds of the Georgia 
Diagnostic and Classification Prison. A group of 50 or more people, some coming 
from the Catholic Chancery in Smyrna, prayed and waited for the possibility 
that there would be a last-minute reprieve based on legal appeals. Those 
waiting included Bishop's attorney and a corps of young law students, some 
wiping away tears, chaplains from several Christian denominations, others who 
visited Bishop, and those opposing the death penalty. Over several hours the 
group prayed Psalm 23 and the Our Father and sang "Amazing Grace." The names of 
those who have been executed in Georgia were read aloud. People spoke about 
Bishop, who was quick to attend every religious service and friendly. He had 
developed a talent with art in prison.

Bishop grew up fatherless in Milledgeville, witnessing the addiction of his 
mother and violent abuse taken out on her and he and his brother by her 
boyfriends. He tried to protect her. The boys were homeless or lived in foster 
homes. He had 16 different placements in 10 years. When he was 19, he was 
involved in the killing of Leverett Morrison, along with another defendant, 
over a car. His co-defendant, who allegedly struck the fatal blow to Morrison, 
received a life sentence with the possibility of parole. Bishop, who 
immediately confessed to that and the killing of one of his mother's alleged 
abusers, received the death penalty.

While in prison for the next 22 years, he found stability, the care of others, 
role models and faith, his lawyer wrote.

"The person Josh Bishop has become bears little comparison to the teenager 
whose life was defined by the dismal circumstances in which he was born and 
raised; a teenager whose view of life was so contorted that he devalued life 
itself," attorney Sarah Gerwig-Moore said in a plea for clemency before the 
state Board of Pardons and Paroles.

"In the Josh we now know, we see a kind human being of humility, compassion and 
gratitude. ... He is a simple man of quiet and positive influence, and his life 
has touched others even since his imprisonment."

"We plead to this Board for clemency," she wrote. "The prolonging of his life 
would serve a far greater purpose than would the taking of it."

His "is a life that can be held up to others as a living example of the extent 
to which lives in a state of loss and addiction can be transformed into ones of 
meaning, purpose and hope."

Archbishop John F. Donoghue baptized Bishop into the Catholic faith in October 
1999. Bishop said he was drawn to the faith by the kindness of Diana 
Shertenlieb, who began writing letters to him because he was the youngest 
person on death row. Through letters and eventually visits, she and her late 
husband, Gary, and their children made Bishop as much a part of their family 
life as was possible. Bishop also found acceptance and help through the 
ministry of the late Father Austin Fogarty.

When Father Fogarty passed away, Bishop sent a letter to The Georgia Bulletin, 
describing the compassion he and others on death row received from the priest 
and how he was like the father Bishop needed. His remembrance was published in 
February 2014.

Archbishop Wilton D. Gregory visited Bishop in recent months and Bishop 
participated in a Holy Thursday liturgy at Jackson on March 24, Deacon Tolcher 
said.

Before heading to Jackson on the night of the execution, people prayed in the 
chapel at the Chancery for Bishop. Father Kieran reiterated the message of 
Bishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa, "There is no future without forgiveness."

Bishop "is an example of what an incarcerated person should achieve - healing 
and reconciliation for past evil and sin," Father Kieran said. "Josh could 
become a powerful witness to society for forgiveness and reconciliation - a 
model for others to follow. Instead his life is to be ended."

"Our Lord Jesus demonstrated that forgiveness and reconciliation work. By grace 
the sinner can reform and mend his ways. Why then does our criminal justice 
system deny the opportunity for the convicted person to reform? ... We must 
seek a better way. We must go beyond opposing any one execution. Rather we 
should oppose the whole system. We must stand up for our preeminent Catholic 
doctrine which holds that everyone has the right to reform and mend their moral 
life."

The denial by the Board of Pardons and Paroles for clemency struck Deacon 
Tolcher deeply. "What is the parole board for" if Bishop's case didn't merit 
clemency, he asked. "I believe in reality they are an extension of the law 
instead of being merciful."

An older man at the vigil outside the prison wiped away tears and said, "The 
man they want to kill died a long time ago. He isn't the same man."

(source: Georgia Bulletin)






FLORIDA:

Should death sentences be reconsidered under new law?


A Florida man convicted of murder is now trying to avoid the death chamber.

He's citing a new law just signed by Gov. Rick Scott.

The families of murder victims are fighting back saying convicted killers don't 
deserve a lighter punishment.

It's all up to the jurors now. 10 out of 12 jurors must now recommend the death 
penalty.

In Mark Asay's case, only nine recommended death, so if his trial took place 
today he would receive life in prison.

Now the question is will this new law allow inmates like Asay already on 
Florida's death row to push for a resentencing.

That's why a Bay area woman wants to make sure the man who killed her daughter 
and grandchildren stays on death row.

"It's been almost 8 years and it's still hard," said Barbara Freiberg.

Freiberg's daughter Lisa and her two children Zachary and Heather were murdered 
by Edward Covington in May of 2008. It was considered one of the horrific 
crimes in Hillsborough County history.

"The worst monster that could possibly be," said Freiberg.

The convicted killer's trial took a serious toll on Freiberg and her family.

"It was very hard for all of us my son wouldn't even go in the courtroom," 
Freiberg said.

Covington is just one of hundreds of death row inmates awaiting execution here 
in Florida. Covington was handed his death sentence last May, Freiberg says any 
possibility of a lesser punishment is not an option.

"I believe he should be put to death because it's like the old testament and 
eye for an eye I mean he did it to my children why shouldn't it happen to him," 
said Freiberg.

And the idea of going through any kind of retrial or resentencing.

"It would be horrible I would not want to go through it again I would not want 
to be in the same room with him again," said Freiberg.

Covington cried in court when the judge gave him death.

Freiberg said, "Your crying for yourself not for my children and you're going 
to get what you gave them and your upset about it."

She said, "Knowing that the sentencing was finally over it kind of gave a 
little bit of normalcy back."

Having her family's lives turned upside down again, Freiberg says would be like 
reliving the nightmare.

"If Covington all of a sudden does not get the death sentence I would be upset. 
At least I pray to god it doesn't," said Freiberg.

Retrying these cases would also take a toll on taxpayers.

If a convicted murderer is granted a resentencing that hearing could cost the 
courts thousands of dollars. But, if a whole new trial was granted that could 
cost in the tens of thousands of dollars.

(source: WTSP news)






LOUISIANA:

Former caregiver admits to beating toddler to death


Facing a possible death penalty for the 2013 death of toddler Rizcheir "Riri" 
Muskelly, Tarika Wilson chose to save her own life, accepting a plea deal for 
1st degree murder on Thursday.

"I was kind of upset because I really wanted her to get the death penalty, but 
she's going to have to think about my baby for the rest of her life," the 
victim's mother Debbie Muskelly said following the plea.

Wilson is a former friend who acted as guardian for Muskelly's three youngest 
children while Muskelly served time out-of-state for a parole violation.

Muskelly said she still has questions about the day, June 17, 2013 when her 
3-year-old daughter was admitted to University Health, the toddler's small body 
covered in wounds from an extension cord lashing.

A Shreveport crime scene investigator previously testified that approximately 
75 % of the child's body was covered in injuries, fresh and old, and "the only 
places I didn't see wounds were the bottoms of her feet." Doctors found the 
fatal blows had caused Riri's blood to pool under her skin, effectively causing 
the child to bleed to death inside her own body.

Wilson's family members had told investigators their matriarch practiced 
corporal punishment, and the accused herself said to investigators about Riri's 
beatings that "fifteen minutes would change her life."

It's a case that's haunted prosecutors and defense attorneys alike. Former 
acting district attorney Dale Cox said it was child killingcases like 
Muskelly's that affirmed his belief in the death penalty, and he vowed to seek 
lethal injection for any child death case that met the legal requirements.

District Attorney James Stewart inherited the case when he took office in 
December, and two of Wilson's former defense attorney are now on the DA's 
staff. Stewart could not be reached for comment on the case, but the office 
first notified the victim's family of a possibly plea arraignment in early 
January.

Wilson admitted her guilt to a small audience Thursday morning. Most of the 
onlookers came to the Caddo courthouse to support the accused, a fact that the 
victim's mother said "kind of made me mad."

A few of Wilson's friends and family wept as the 36-year-old Shreveport 
resident entered the plea, outfitted in a standard CCC orange jumpsuit, 
thick-rimmed glasses, and her hair pulled into 2 braids.

Yet, there were no tears for the young victim. Muskelly had to leave the 
courtroom early, too angry to look at the woman who killed her youngest child.

"I just want to know why," Muskelly told her victim advocate Lesley Lacy. "But 
I have to hear it from Tarika."

Muskelly says she wants to sit down with Wilson. But those questions will wait.

Lacy said Wilson will be transferred to Louisiana Correctional Institute for 
Women in St. Gabriel. Once she's there, trained facilitators can reach out to 
Wilson on Muskelly's behalf, asking if she's interested in writing or speaking 
to the victim's family.

"It's kind of a long process, but I have people say it's worth it," Lacy said.

Muskelly says she's leaving Shreveport in the fall. Most of her other family 
has left as well, including Riri's sisters, Queenie and Hallelujah, who were 
also living with Wilson at the time of the murder.

"They're affected every day, but they know she's not coming back," Muskelly 
said of Riri before one final thought on Wilson, "And neither is (Tarika). She 
got what she deserved. She didn't get what I want, but now that's between her 
and God."

(source: Shreveport TImes)






OHIO:

Suspect in Ohio officer's killing passes on initial hearing


The suspect in the death of an Ohio police officer gave up his right to an 
initial court hearing, a prosecutor said Thursday, giving both sides more time 
to research the case, including whether the death penalty is appropriate.

The decision by Lincoln Rutledge means the state now has nearly 2 months before 
an indictment must be issued.

The extra time will allow Columbus police to complete their investigation and 
Rutledge's attorneys to present evidence they believe argues against a death 
penalty, said Franklin County Prosecutor Ron O'Brien.

"Then we have the best information available to us in order to make that 
decision," he said.

Ohio law includes killing a police officer as a factor that can lead to capital 
punishment.

In recent years O'Brien, a Republican, has only sought the death penalty for 
cases he believed were strong enough that a jury would vote for death.

A message was left with the public defender's office representing the 
44-year-old Rutledge. He'll likely receive a new lawyer once an indictment is 
filed.

Thursday morning, dozens of police cruisers escorted slain Columbus SWAT 
officer Steven Smith's body from the Franklin County coroner's office to a 
funeral home. Smith, 54, a 27-year veteran of the department, died Tuesday, 2 
days after being shot.

Columbus Mayor Andrew Ginther and other city officials stood at attention with 
their hands over their hearts as the procession went by City Hall.

Smith was an organ donor upon his death, according to the Franklin County 
coroner's office.

Smith was shot in the head while inside a SWAT vehicle early Sunday outside 
Rutledge's apartment in a neighborhood north of Ohio State's campus. Officers 
were attempting to arrest Rutledge on a charge of trying to set his wife's home 
on fire the day before.

Rutledge's mental health is bound to be an issue in the case and would weigh 
heavily on a decision whether to seek the death penalty.

Rutledge told an Ohio State University co-worker last month he was not taking 
his medication, made a comment about "eating a Glock" and accused his co-worker 
of being a federal agent, according to a March 22 report from the OSU police 
department.

During the co-worker's visit, "it became apparent that Rutledge may have been 
in the midst of a mental breakdown," the report said.

On March 28, Rutledge's wife told Columbus police he had been diagnosed with 
depression and "lately has been 'increasingly detached from reality,'" 
according to a Columbus police report.

Ohio State said Rutledge, a computer network engineer, had not been at work 
since Feb. 1 when he requested and was granted a leave of absence. His access 
to buildings was revoked March 23 "when he began to behave erratically while on 
leave," the university said.

(source: Associated Press)

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

Mom Accused of Killing Sons Seeks No Death Penalty, 3 Trials


An Ohio woman accused of suffocating her three sons out of jealousy at the 
attention her husband gave them is asking a judge to toss her confession, split 
the case into 3 trials and remove the death penalty as a possibility.

The Dayton Daily News ( http://bit.ly/1qKfFVS ) reports that lawyers for 
23-year-old Brittany Pilkington filed 6 motions April 1. Prosecutors had 20 
days to respond.

A judge previously denied removing the death penalty option. The new motion 
seeks a dismissal based on a January ruling by the U.S. Supreme Court. The 
defense is questioning the constitutionality of Ohio's capital punishment laws.

Pilkington's trial is scheduled to start in October.

The Bellefontaine woman pleaded not guilty to 3 counts of aggravated murder. 
Prosecutors say Pilkington confessed to the killings.

(source: Associated Press)






TENNESSEE:

Man freed by DNA speaks at Cleveland State against death penalty


Ray Krone was sentenced to die for a murder he didn't commit.

On Dec. 29, 1991, police in Phoenix found bartender Kim Ancona stabbed to death 
in the men's bathroom at the bar where she worked, naked except for her socks 
and with bite marks on her chest and neck.

Krone, an Air Force veteran and U.S. Postal Service worker with no criminal 
record, hung out at that bar. Someone there told police that Ancona was 
romantically interested in Krone, and soon investigators knocked on his door, 
saying he was her boyfriend.

Krone told them he barely knew the woman. They weren't dating, and he 
definitely didn't kill her.

But 2 days later, they took him to jail.

And he didn't leave for another 10 years, 3 months and 8 days.

That's when DNA evidence proved another man committed the crime. Proved 
prosecutors were wrong. That 2 juries were wrong. That the expert who testified 
that Krone's mouth matched the bite marks on the woman's neck was wrong.

Krone spent 3 years on death row in an Arizona prison, in isolation, shackled 
any time he left his cell.

He told his story to a crowd of about 50 people at Cleveland State Community 
College on Thursday night during a panel discussion with groups opposed to the 
death penalty. Panelists from Conservatives Concerned About the Death Penalty 
and Tennesseans for Alternatives to the Death Penalty also spoke during the 
event.

Now 59 and living in a town about an hour east of Knoxville, Krone recounted 
the series of missteps, false assumptions and outright unethical behavior by 
prosecutors and investigators that led to his conviction.

He explained how, when he first went to jail, his initial worries were 
practical - who would feed his dog? What about next week's softball game? He 
was supposed to pitch.

"I really believed they were going to find out that I told the truth and I'd be 
out in a minute," he said. "And that turned into an hour, and that turned into 
days and then weeks."

The other panelists followed Krone's story with a series of anti-death penalty 
arguments tailored for a conservative crowd. It's expensive, said Marc Hyden, a 
national advocacy coordinator for Conservatives Concerned About the Death 
Penalty. And research shows it's not a deterrent to crime, he said.

In the 2013-2014 fiscal year, the average daily cost to house a Tennessee 
Department of Corrections offender was $74, while housing a death row offender 
costs $118, according to Tennesseans for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. 
There are now 67 people on Tennessee's death row.

"I found I could no longer support the death penalty because it clashed with my 
principles of pro-life policies, fiscal responsibility and limited government," 
Hyden told the crowd.

Krone was released on April 8, 2002 - 1 day after the Phoenix newspaper 
published an in-depth story about his situation.

He became the 100th person to be exonerated from death row since the death 
penalty was reinstated in 1976. That number is close to 150 now, Krone said, 
and three of those people were in Tennessee.

"And that's just the ones we know about," he said.

Krone has been advocating against the death penalty since his release. He never 
married, never had children. He's been with the same woman for 9 years.

And, in some ways, he's lucky.

He spent only 10 years in prison, when some people spent decades. He went in 
when he was 34. Not 18, like some people.

He still gets angry, sometimes. But every time he sees something positive come 
from his experience - every time someone from a crowd he's spoken to stays late 
to shake his hand - it helps.

(source: timesfreepress.com)