[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----KAN., NEB., MINN., UTAH, CALIF., USA

[Rick Halperin]

Feb. 13




KANSAS:

Wrongfully convicted man now taking up death penalty


After spending 16 years in a prison cell for a crime he did not commit, Floyd 
Bledsoe is making it his personal mission to abolish the death penalty.

In 2000, Bledsoe stood trial in the shooting death of his 14-year-old 
sister-in-law Camille Arfmann. A jury found him guilty of murder.

"It is the most sickening feeling that I have ever felt in my life, you know, I 
mean, because your heart drops," said Bledsoe.

He was sentenced to life. Just last October, new DNA evidence pointed to his 
brother, Tom Bledsoe, as the real killer. In November, his brother killed 
himself, but not before confessing in a suicide letter.

Floyd Bledsoe stepped into the world a free man in December and is now taking 
on the death penalty.

"Death is one thing that you cannot appeal and say, 'Oops, we're bad, you know, 
we're sorry,' you know it's over," said Floyd Bledsoe.

Not everyone agrees with his push to end capital punishment, including Johnson 
County Prosecutor Steve Howe.

"There are certain crimes, a very limited number of murders that are so heinous 
and atrocious that the death penalty warrants those actions," said Howe.

Howe says Kansas has one of the most restrictive criteria for the death 
penalty. In 8 years in Johnson County, Howe has only sought the death penalty 
once, for Frazier Glenn Cross. Howe calls it a moral issue and a judgment call 
for prosecutors seeking death.

"We do not want to convict a person and seek a death sentence unless we are 
absolutely sure, convinced that we have the right guy," said Howe.

Still, it leaves little comfort to Floyd Bledsoe. "It's better to protect 1 
innocent person then to condemn 1 innocent person with a hundred people," he 
said.

A GoFundMe page has been started for Floyd Bledsoe to help with cost adjusting 
to life outside of prison walls.

(source: KSHB news)






NEBRASKA:

Massachusetts donations boosted death penalty opponents' 2015 funds


A Massachusetts group that opposes capital punishment has made another large 
contribution to an effort to sustain the repeal of Nebraska's death penalty.

The Proteus Action League of Amherst, Massachusetts, gave $198,495 in October 
to Nebraskans for Public Safety, upping its total contribution to the 
anti-death penalty group to $598,495, according to year-end campaign finance 
reports released recently.

Nebraskans for Public Safety formed just after the Legislature, over a veto by 
Gov. Pete Ricketts, repealed the death penalty in the state.

That sparked a petition drive financed by Ricketts and others that was 
successful in suspending the repeal until Nebraska voters could decide the 
issue at the polls in November.

Year-end reports by Nebraskans for Public Safety indicated that it had raised 
$750,190 during 2015, and had about $13,000 of cash on hand.

By comparison, Nebraskans for the Death Penalty, the pro-capital punishment 
group that ran the successful petition drive, raised $940,133 during 2015. It 
reported having $9,991 of cash on hand, and $54,369 in unpaid legal and 
consultant bills at year's end.

Dan Parsons, a spokesman for Nebraskans for Public Safety, said the group has 
entered "phase 2" of its campaign to retain the repeal of the death penalty, 
which is to mobilize voters to defeat the referendum.

He made no apologies for the large donations from a group outside of the state 
and said that recently, more contributions have been received from Nebraskans.

"Obviously, this is an issue that's not only important to Nebraska but the 
whole country," Parsons said. "Both sides will continue to get interest from 
outside of this state. We're not going to shy away from that."

The Proteus Action League has said the primary source for its contributions in 
Nebraska is billionaire businessman Chuck Feeney, an Irish-American who has 
pledged to give away his $7.5 billion fortune to promote education, human 
rights and health care causes.

Feeney founded the Atlantic Philanthropies, one of the largest private 
foundations in the world.

>From Sept. 22 to the end of 2015, Nebraskans for Public Safety reported raising 
$288,611. That compares to $36,701 raised by Nebraskans for the Death Penalty.

The largest new donation for the pro-death penalty group came from a Denver 
organization called Citizens for a Sound Government. That same group ran attack 
ads against then-Attorney General Jon Bruning, who was an unsuccessful 
challenger to Ricketts for the 2014 GOP nomination for governor.

Ricketts was one of the prime financiers of Nebraskans for the Death Penalty's 
drive during 2015, contributing $200,000. Ricketts' father, Joe, who started 
the family company TD Ameritrade, gave $100,000.

The pro-death penalty group collected more than 143,000 valid signatures from 
Nebraska voters in just over 2 months to force the referendum and the 
suspension of the death-penalty repeal. Their spending translated into about 
$6.30 per signature.

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

Prison director says officials are mystified as Nikko Jenkins finds another way 
to hurt himself


The latest acts of self-harm come as Nikko Jenkins awaits a hearing to 
determine whether he is competent to face a death-penalty hearing over his 
August 2013 killings of Jorge Cajiga-Ruiz, Juan Uribe-Pena, Curtis Bradford and 
Andrea Kruger.

Convicted killer Nikko Jenkins used a prison guard's badge to slice his penis.

Then, 2 days after that Jan. 26 mutilation, Jenkins attempted a more severe 
form of self-harm: He slid his waist chain up his torso, hooked it to a fence 
in the prison yard and lowered his body "in an attempt to hang himself from the 
fence," a prison report says.

It didn't work. A correctional officer spotted Jenkins and radioed for help. 
Officers unhooked Jenkins from the fence, secured him to a gurney and escorted 
him to the prison's medical unit.

The latest acts of self-harm come as Jenkins awaits a hearing to determine 
whether he is competent to face a death-penalty hearing over his August 2013 
killings of Jorge Cajiga-Ruiz, Juan Uribe-Pena, Curtis Bradford and Andrea 
Kruger. Nebraska Corrections Director Scott Frakes said prison officials have 
been mystified as to how Jenkins keeps getting weapons of self-destruction. 
Jenkins, 29, says he is housed in solitary confinement in a barren cell, with 
only 2 blankets, at the Nebraska State Penitentiary in Lincoln.

Prison reports indicate that Jenkins has used the following to slice his penis: 
a broken floor tile, a piece of a radio, his eyeglasses, a screw from a shower.

And, now, a guard's badge.

According to a prison report concerning that incident:

In mid-January, a corporal left his jacket on a chair in front of Jenkins' 
cell. Jenkins said the corporal also left the hatch to Jenkins' cell open.

Jenkins reached through the hatch and "stole the badge from his coat," Jenkins 
wrote.

A week later, at 12:30 p.m. Jan. 26, a lieutenant peered into Jenkins' cell and 
spotted Jenkins using the spike on the back of the badge to slice his penis.

"I witnessed inmate Jenkins cut his penis with Corporal Eckery's badge," the 
lieutenant wrote. "Inmate Jenkins slid the badge under the door after he was 
given several directives."

Jenkins wrote that it took 11 stitches to close that cut - which, as with the 
others, he said he did in homage to a serpent god.

All told, Jenkins has received more than 75 stitches to close cuts that he has 
inflicted upon his face and penis in the past year.

Frakes told The World-Herald this week that Jenkins' misconduct has vexed 
prison officials, causing them to focus "a lot of collective energy" on the 
issue.

"He seems to be able to use anything to break his skin," Frakes said. "We 
dissect every incident for lessons learned."

One of the lessons, according to Frakes: "What Nikko is undoubtedly good at ... 
(is) he learns how to find people's buttons."

Frakes said he is trying to reinforce with his staff the need for absolute 
consistency in the way they act around Jenkins.

Sometimes, in dealing with a manipulative prisoner, Frakes said, a staff member 
might promise a reward such as a peanut butter sandwich in exchange for the 
prisoner's good behavior for the rest of the worker's shift. But that 
reinforces the wrong behavior, Frakes said.

Jenkins is "not the only challenging person or even the most challenging 
person" in the prison system, he said.

Jenkins' behavior has caused several delays in the death-penalty proceedings as 
Judge Peter Bataillon has thrice ordered him to be evaluated for competency.

Bataillon also has scolded Jenkins for cutting himself - and has grilled prison 
officials as to how Jenkins keeps getting sharp objects. The judge went so far 
as to ask if someone was slipping Jenkins razor blades in his mashed potatoes.

Prosecutors have argued that Jenkins' motivation for mutilation is 
manipulation. They argue that he is feigning insanity in an attempt to prove 
himself crazy to legal observers.

Important to note: Jenkins has released the reports of his mutilations to news 
media outlets.

That said, the accounts released aren't his own scribblings; they are the typed 
reports of corrections staff members and appear to be on official Nebraska 
Inmate Case Management System forms.

Frakes said officials are considering all options, including a transfer. 
Jenkins has a history of misbehavior at several institutions, including the 
Omaha Correctional Center and the Tecumseh State Prison.

"Maybe a change of venue makes sense," Frakes said, but only if the prisons can 
meet Jenkins' behavioral health and mental health needs.

(source for both: Omaha World-Herald)






MINNESOTA:

Bungled St. Paul hanging was Minnesota's last execution


It took William F. Williams more than 14 excruciating minutes to die when he 
was hanged in the basement of Ramsey County Jail on Feb. 13, 1906.

The rope stretched and his feet hit the floor when the trap was sprung, 
according to a report in that afternoon's issue of the St. Paul Daily News. 3 
Ramsey County sheriff's deputies standing on the scaffold above had to pull up 
on the rope while Williams slowly strangled.

A 27-year-old English immigrant convicted of murdering his male teenage lover, 
Williams was the last person executed in Minnesota. His botched hanging helped 
turn public sentiment against the practice, which drove the state Legislature 
to abolish the death penalty in 1911.

"Gentlemen, you are witnessing an illegal hanging," Williams said from the 
gallows, still insisting he was innocent. "I am accused of killing Johnny 
Keller. He was the best friend I ever had."

Williams and Keller met in 1903 as patients at a St. Paul hospital where they 
were being treated for diphtheria, the Pioneer Press reported at the time. They 
soon developed a romantic relationship.

Despite the objections of the boy's parents, Williams and Keller spent 2 years 
living and traveling together. When Keller tried to end the relationship in 
April 1905, an enraged Williams went to the family's St. Paul apartment and 
fatally shot the boy and his mother.

Williams' sensational trial coincided with that of another infamous St. Paul 
killer named Edward Gottschalk, who was described by the Daily News as 
"archfiend of the year" for his part in the grisly murder of a local butcher. 
The city's newspapers covered both cases from start to finish. Williams and 
Gottschalk were both sentenced to death by hanging, but Gottschalk "cheated the 
gallows as he had promised by hanging himself in his cell," the Daily News 
reported

. Williams, only the 5th person hanged in Ramsey County history, spent much of 
his last day on Earth playing cards with his guards, whom he befriended while 
awaiting execution. The wife of Ramsey County Sheriff Anton Miesen prepared 
Williams a last meal of steak, German-fried potatoes, dessert and coffee.

Miesen himself had tested the gallows the day before by swinging from the rope, 
but he failed to recognize "the grim but elementary law of physics that if 
weight is applied to a rope and to a human neck, both will stretch," wrote 
Walter Trenerry in his 1962 book "Murder in Minnesota."

Reporters were barred from attending the execution, but Daily News reporter 
Joseph E. Hennessey managed to sneak in among the crowd of 32 witnesses.

Williams "was the coolest man in the room" as he "walked manfully and bravely" 
up the 13 steps to the scaffold, Hennessey wrote.

After his last words, a hood was placed over his head and the lever pulled.

Williams' attorney called the execution "a disgrace to civilization." 
Newspapers compared execution by hanging to the Inquisition tortures of the 
Middle Ages, Trenerry wrote.

5 years later, the Minnesota Legislature voted to abolish the death penalty, 
and on April 22, 1911, Gov. Adolph Eberhart signed the bill into law.

(source: twincities.com)






UTAH:

Human trafficking death penalty bill passes House


A bill that could give human traffickers the death penalty has passed the Utah 
House of Representatives.

House Bill 136 passed Friday afternoon by a vote of 44 to 28.

The bill, sponsored by Rep. Paul Ray (R-Clearfield), specifies that if a child 
dies while being trafficked, that would be classified as aggravated murder and 
could result in the death penalty.

Ray has told 2News he feels the bill would be a deterrent for those who seek to 
engage in trafficking children for labor or sex.

But Rep. Brian King (D-Salt Lake City) spoke against the bill Friday on the 
House floor, saying he doesn't want to see an expansion of the death penalty.

The bill now moves on to the full Senate.

()source: KUTV news)






CALIFORNIA:

California Death Row Inmates Remain Stuck In High Security Limbo


This fall, voters in California may get to weigh in on 2 very different ballot 
measures on capital punishment - 1 to ban the death penalty and another to 
expedite executions. California still sentences convicted murderers to death, 
but there hasn't been an execution there since 2006. That's when a federal 
judge suspended capital punishment. On a rare tour of San Quentin State Prison, 
NPR found death row inmates stuck in high security limbo.

KELLY MCEVERS, HOST:

This fall, people here in California might get to vote on two very different 
ballot measures about capital punishment - one to ban the death penalty and 
another to expedite executions. California still sentences convicted murderers 
to death, but there hasn't been an execution here since 2006. That's when a 
federal judge suspended capital punishment. Scott Shafer from member station 
KQED in San Francisco recently got a rare tour of San Quentin Prison, and he 
found death row inmates stuck in high-security limbo.

SCOTT SHAFER, BYLINE: California's death row population just keeps growing. 
There are now about 745 condemned inmates. Most of them are here at San Quentin 
prison. Between them and the outside - lots of locks and keys. They're some of 
the state's most notorious criminals. Some were serial killers, the details of 
their crimes - horrifying. In the prison yard, inmate Robert Galvan takes a 
break from doing pullups to talk through a chain-link fence.

What's life like here?

ROBERT GALVAN: Day at a time, you know? Day at a time - work out - same routine 
every day - get up, eat breakfast, work out

SHAFER: Galvan is 42 years old. He's standing, shirtless, outside, in a 12-by-9 
rectangular cage. His body is covered in tattoos. Galvan was sent to San 
Quentin a few years ago, after killing a cell mate at another California 
prison. Through the bars, Galvan says he deserves to be on death row, waiting a 
lethal injection that is now on hold. I ask if men here think there will be any 
more executions.

GALVAN: Some think it ain't going to happen. Some think it's - you know, 
they're going to start firing it up, you know? But me, I'll cross that bridge 
when it come - when I come to it.

SHAFER: Even without the imminent threat of execution, the decades of 
uncertainty weight on some inmates. Charles Crawford II was convicted of a 
double homicide he committed at the age of 22. He's 41 now.

CHARLES CRAWFORD II: If they're going to do it, you know, do it and just, you 
know, not just have us sitting here for 20 or 30 years.

SHAFER: That's the average time it takes before an inmate is executed here. In 
another part of the yard, five inmates shoot hoops on an enclosed cement court. 
One of them, Steven Livaditis, takes a break from playing basketball to talk 
through the fence.

STEVEN LIVADITIS: I attempted to rob a jewelry store, and people ended up being 
killed because of my actions.

SHAFER: Why did you shoot him?

Livaditis seems to be fighting back tears.

LIVADITIS: Because I was a - I was an evil person. I don't know any other way 
to put it, you know?

SHAFER: Livaditis, now 51 years old, says he's turned to religion, and if he's 
executed, it'll be God's will. Most of the death row inmates are kept in East 
Block. It's loud and sort of dark. There's no privacy. As I walk past, one guy 
is showering. Another sits on a toilet inside his 6-by-9 cell. Many just lie on 
their beds or sit, reading, writing or watching TV.

RAYMOND ANTHONY LEWIS: My name is Raymond Anthony Lewis. I'm in San Quentin 
State Prison on death row, where I've been since March 13 of 1991 - going on 25 
years.

SHAFER: Lewis stands in his cell, leaning close to the bars, reinforced by 
metal mesh. Unlike many inmates here, Lewis admits to his crime, and he's tired 
of waiting to be put to death.

LEWIS: Just recently, within the last year, I've asked my attorneys to stop my 
appeal.

SHAFER: Why is that?

LEWIS: Because this is not living. It's just existing. There's nothing here. 
There's no emotions, no life.

SHAFER: You think most people here would rather be dead than be living here?

LEWIS: Oh, yes, without a doubt. Without a - we talk about it every day when we 
out on the yard. People are just tired of it. The state is not killing nobody. 
You know, guys here are dying from - either from health reasons, old age or 
committing suicide.

SHAFER: That's one thing I noticed - how old many of these inmates are. Some 
look so frail it's almost hard to imagine the terrible, gruesome crimes they 
committed, all of them, including Lewis, waiting for an execution day that 
might never come.

LEWIS: This is the hardest part. Dying is easy.

SHAFER: 117 condemned inmates have died since California reinstated capital 
punishment in 1978. Only 15 were executed. Most died of natural causes. For NPR 
News, I'm Scott Shafer at San Quentin prison.

(source: npr.org)

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

Hearing postponed in Modesto death penalty case


A judge on Thursday has rescheduled a preliminary hearing to begin July 18 for 
2 men charged with murder, arson and burglary in the deaths of a Modesto couple 
found inside their burning home.

The hearing for defendants Brandon Pettit and Felix Valverde initially was 
scheduled to start March 23.

Authorities believe the defendants are responsible for the deaths of Pettit's 
parents, Scott and Janet Pettit. They were found by firefighters putting out a 
blaze in the bedroom of their home in the early hours of Aug. 8, 2013.

The Stanislaus County District Attorney's Office has decided to seek the death 
penalty. The court has appointed 2 attorneys to represent each defendant, which 
is required in capital murder cases.

Prosecutors allege that the defendants committed the murders for financial 
gain. A filed criminal complaint indicates that the Pettits were shot in their 
home.

Investigators have said they believe the fire at the Divan Court home was 
started to cover up the murders and have confirmed that the victims were dead 
before the fire started.

The defendants have remained in custody since their arrest 8 days after the 
house fire.

At the conclusion of the preliminary hearing, Stanislaus Superior Court Judge 
Dawna Reeves will decide whether there is enough evidence for the defendants to 
stand trial.

(source: Modesto Bee)






USA:

'El Chapo' Brooklyn Trial: U.S. careful not to seek death penalty against 
Sinaloa cartel leader to secure extradition


Mexican drug king pin Joaquin "El Chapo" Guzman may face trial in Brooklyn, New 
York on drug-trafficking charges once extradited from Mexico, law enforcement 
officials said Monday. Prior to the trial, the United States has to come to an 
agreement not to seek death penalty against Guzman to avoid conflict with 
Mexico's extradition proceedings.

Guzman has been indicted in Brooklyn, Chicago, Manhattan, Miami and other 
cities across the United States where his cocaine ring was said to have 
operated.

The Justice Department determined that of these Brooklyn has the strongest case 
against Guzman. Other factors, such as availability of credible witnesses and 
lack of other potential complications, were also considered.

Joaquin Guzman was indicted in a Federal District Court in Brooklyn in 2014 on 
charges of distributing more than 457,000 kilograms of cocaine.

According to Pix 11, the operations were allegedly carried out between 2002 and 
2014 "through a network of corrupt police and political contacts."

The Brooklyn indictment also links Guzman to over a dozen murders and attempted 
killings.

There's has been no final decision as to the venue of the trial or the finality 
of El Chapo's extradition to the United States. Nonetheless, the Mexican 
government gave assurance that they are taking preliminary steps to begin 
formal extradition proceedings, the New York Times wrote.

However, the alleged leader of the Sinaloa cartel has reportedly sought the 
prohibition of his transfer in a Mexican court to slow down the process by 
months.

Aside from the issue of jurisdiction and extradition, another cause of concern 
for authorities is the issue of security. The recent breakouts from New York's 
maximum-security state prisons have prompted federal law-enforcement officials 
to devise a well-thought out plan to secure Guzman.

"The biggest fear would be his access to money [to try to escape from prison], 
because money can make things happen," said industry consultant Ron McAndrew, 
as quoted by The Wall Street Journal. "People are bought and sold every day."

Before trial can commence, the United States would have to be careful not to 
seek death penalty against Guzman if ever he is convicted on capital charges. 
Mexico does not impose the death penalty, and it will certainly not extradite 
convicts to the United States if they were only to face the capital punishment.

If convicted, Guzman would most likely serve his sentence in the U.S. 
Penitentiary Administrative Maximum Facility, otherwise known as Supermax, 
located in Colorado. The Supermax houses over 400 convicts which the federal 
government has considered too dangerous to be joined with other inmates. Some 
of its well-known inmates are Boston marathon bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev and 1994 
World Trade Center bomber Ramzi Yousef.

(source: lawyerherald.com)