[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----N.H., PENN., VA., OHIO, IND.
Rick Halperin
rhalperi at smu.edu
Sun Oct 4 14:54:54 CDT 2015
Oct. 4
NEW HAMPSHIRE:
Death penalty defense weak, growing weaker
Michael Addison, the man sentenced to death for killing Manchester police
officer Michael Briggs, should not be executed.
His public defender, David Rothstein, argued late last month that New
Hampshire's methods of execution amount to cruel and unusual punishment, given
that one is obsolete (hanging) and the other difficult to implement (lethal
injection drugs are increasingly unavailable). He also pointed out that the
state doesn't have the facilities or protocols necessary for an execution.
Rothstein raises important points. If a state can't provide the necessary
framework for an execution, it's in no position to sentence someone to death.
More broadly, there is no good reason for our country to execute anyone any
longer. Addison committed a grave crime, but even Michael Briggs's partner on
the police force, John Breckinridge, now opposes the death penalty for
religious reasons. Even in a purely secular sense, though, the death penalty is
a barbarity.
Innocent people have been executed. Take Cameron Todd Willingham of Texas,
convicted on bad evidence and prosecuted by a man charged with misconduct by
the state bar. Take Richard Glossip, who is still scheduled to die in Oklahoma,
convicted after testimony from the man who actually committed the murder. That
man has given 8 different accounts of Glossip's role in the case, according to
the New Yorker.
On its own, this problem - killing the innocent in the name of justice - makes
the penalty untenable. The problem with relying on it exclusively, however, is
that it suggests that capital punishment would be acceptable if society knew
all of those convicted were guilty.
And it doesn't. Even the best judicial system is staffed by imperfect people.
Prosecutors will not always make the same decision. Juries will not always
arrive at the same verdict. There's no way to ensure that serious crimes will
always be punished proportionally.
Take Kelly Gissendaner of Georgia. She was executed on Wednesday for the 1997
death of her husband. The man who carried out the crime, Gissendaner's lover,
is serving life in prison and will be eligible for parole in 7 years. She
turned her life around in prison, showing remorse and helping other inmates.
Former prisoners said she had changed their life, according to CBS News. The
pope and her children pleaded for mercy. And yet she was killed by an injection
of pentobarbital.
Finally, the notion of the death penalty deterring other crimes fails with
today's justice system. If the United States was more like China, which has
executed thousands of its citizens yearly, perhaps that would indeed strike
fear into the hearts of potential criminals. But in our country, the very
process of taking a death penalty case from inception to conclusion is so long,
so expensive and so uncertain that it's difficult to imagine the prospect
weighing on anyone's mind.
Simply put, there is no rational basis to continue with the death penalty.
In a world of absolute certainty and uniformity, there might be a place for
capital punishment. But we do not live in such a world, and as such, there is
no place for it here.
(source: Editorial, Concord Monitor)
PENNSYLVANIA:
Pa. spends millions on death penalty cases that rarely end in execution
The Allegheny County Office of the Public Defender has budgeted $30,000 for
doctors to analyze Talon Perozich and investigators to meet with his friends,
family and associates in Pennsylvania, Florida and Chicago - all just in case a
jury finds him guilty of murder and he is eligible for the death penalty.
Perozich, 22, of White Oak is on trial on charges that he shot a McKeesport man
and his girlfriend in their bed - killing him and wounding her - over a $230
drug debt. He is 1 of 9 defendants on trial or preparing to go to trial in
Allegheny County for whom the District Attorney's Office is seeking the death
penalty.
Allegheny County spent more than $290,000 over the past five years prosecuting
seven death penalty cases, according to figures compiled by the Fifth Judicial
District for the Pennsylvania Interbranch Commission for Gender, Racial and
Ethnic Fairness.
That does not include the cost of attorneys' fees, forensic experts,
evaluations, court-appointed investigators, judicial staff time and jury costs,
needed to obtain a conviction. It does not include the cost associated with
appeals.
Allegheny County has nine death penalty convictions under appeal.
Westmoreland County has five death penalty cases under appeal and no active
cases. The judicial report on costs did not include Westmoreland County.
Although no one has produced detailed studies of the statewide cost of death
penalty cases in Pennsylvania, the Washington-based Death Penalty Information
Center estimates the state spends $46 million per year for prosecution,
mitigation and appeal of death penalty cases.
Yet a death penalty conviction in Pennsylvania rarely ends in execution.
In the 37 years since Pennsylvania reinstated the death penalty, only three
people have been executed - and they volunteered, waiving their rights to
appeal.
It's a topic that divides Americans. A 2013 survey by Pew Research Center found
55 % said they supported the death penalty for people convicted of murder.
High-profile DNA exonerations of people on death row brought attention to the
penalty.
In his Sept. 24 speech to Congress, Pope Francis pushed to abolish the death
penalty globally, saying, "Every life is sacred, every human person is endowed
with an inalienable dignity, and society can only benefit from the
rehabilitation of those convicted of crimes."
As of Thursday, Pennsylvania had 181 death row inmates, according to the
Department of Corrections, including Greensburg torture slaying ringleader
Ricky Smyrnes and accomplice Melvin Knight, convicted in 2013; Stanton Heights
cop killer Richard Poplawski, convicted in 2011; and spree killer Richard
Baumhammers of Mt. Lebanon, convicted in 2001.
Given the cost and the marked lack of executions, some question the ultimate
penalty's effectiveness.
Then-Gov. Ed Rendell in 2011 expressed frustration when signing his final
execution warrants.
"Executions 15, 20, 25, 30 years after a crime took place make absolutely no
sense," Rendell, a former prosecutor, told PennLive. "To the criminals on the
street, the death penalty in Pennsylvania is simply not a reality. For victim's
families and survivors, it's ... agonizing. For the police who did the original
investigation, it creates frustration. And for we the taxpayers, the endless
appeals cost us significant amounts of money that could be put to use in other
parts of the criminal justice system."
Rendell suggested the legislature streamline the process or consider scrapping
the death penalty.
Why pursue it?
Prosecutors pursue the death penalty because its proper application, despite
the costs, is the best way to guarantee public safety and bring a sense of
justice to victims' families, said Richard Long, executive director of the
Pennsylvania District Attorneys Association.
Gov. Tom Wolf imposed a moratorium on executions in February, using his power
to grant reprieves to inmates until a Senate panel established in 2011 to study
the death penalty delivers its long-overdue report.
"We believe the governor's overstepped his constitutional authority by imposing
the moratorium," Long said. "If someone wants to end the death penalty in
Pennsylvania, there's a process for that; that needs to move through the
legislature."
Long said the association filed a friend of the court brief in a challenge of
Wolf's moratorium before the state Supreme Court and made arguments three weeks
ago. The task force looking at the death penalty and whether it has been
applied fairly across racial, gender and socioeconomic lines was stacked with
death penalty opponents, Long said, and it had not delivered its report nearly
two years past its deadline.
A moratorium has not changed the law, said Mike Manko, spokesman for Allegheny
County District Attorney Stephen A. Zappala Jr.
"The costs associated with seeking the death penalty are not extraordinary to
our budget and do not divert resources from other areas of the office," said
Manko. "One of the many tenets of this office is to seek justice for the
victims of violent crime, and it is a concern that the Pennsylvania Department
of Corrections is unable to take death penalty cases to their ultimate
conclusion.
"This and the seemingly endless appellate process have the effect of forcing
the families of homicide victims to constantly be reminded of the violence that
has entered their lives and, as such, they never achieve the justice that they
deserve."
Westmoreland County District Attorney John Peck said he will continue to seek
the death penalty when he believes it is warranted, and cost does not factor
into his decision.
"It is the law, and it is supported by the majority of the citizens," he said.
Defendants' rights
Once a prosecutor seeks the death penalty, it triggers a long and sometimes
expensive process of evaluating a defendant's background for anything that
would indicate he or she should not be executed.
"You're looking at not just their life, but you're also required to look 2
generations back - to look for a history of mental health issues, a history of
abuse or criminality," said Carrie Allman, manager of training for the
Allegheny County Public Defender's Office. "It takes a lot of time and a lot of
attention, and you end up with a lot of paper and a lot of people."
Defendants in a death penalty case have a right, guaranteed by the Supreme
Court and American Bar Association procedures, to "mitigation specialists" who
delve into defendants' histories for things such as mental illnesses,
disabilities or traumas that might weigh on whether a jury imposes the death
penalty, Allman said.
"It's a lot of costs up front for the just-in-case," she said. "It's the
commonwealth's choice to take that route."
The death penalty is sought in cases in which a homicide is accompanied by
"aggravating factors," such as the killing of police officers or multiple
victims, a defendant's history of felony convictions, or a killing's
association with the drug trade.
(source: triblive.com)
VIRGINIA:
Supreme Court Responds To Man On Death Row After Man Is Already Dead
The Supreme Court on Friday issued a posthumous response to Alfredo Prieto, a
serial killer on Virginia's death row whose lawyers had petitioned the court
several times to put his execution on hold.
In the short, unsigned order, the justices dismissed Prieto's request "as moot"
-- meaning neither a grant nor a denial of a stay of execution would have
helped him. Prieto was executed Thursday night.
On Wednesday, the court had denied two other petitions from Prieto's attorneys,
who were hoping legal challenges over Virginia's drug protocol would sway the
justices to temporarily delay their client's execution. BuzzFeed News has a
comprehensive report on all the legal maneuverings in the Prieto case.
Unrelated to his execution, Prieto also had a pending case before the Supreme
Court over Virginia's use of solitary confinement. Though that case is also
technically moot, New York Times reporter Adam Liptak noted on Friday that
another Virginia death-row inmate, Mark Eric Lawlor, moved to intervene in the
case to keep it alive. The justices could decide what to do with the case by
Oct. 9.
The court's Friday action in the Prieto case marked a busy week for the
justices' death penalty docket and capital punishment overall.
The Supreme Court had also been asked to intervene at the 11th hour in the
cases of Richard Glossip out of Oklahoma and Kelly Gissendaner out of Georgia,
but halted neither execution.
Gissendaner was executed on Wednesday shortly after midnight, but Glossip was
given a last-minute reprieve by Oklahoma Gov. Mary Fallin (R), amid concerns
over the drugs the state had on hand for the execution.
And it looks like the Supreme Court won't need to act in another execution
originally scheduled for next week. On Friday, Missouri Gov. Jay Nixon (D)
commuted the death sentence of Kimber Edwards, following a newspaper report
that cast serious doubts about the man's murder conviction.
The next time the court will consider issues relating to the death penalty is
Oct. 7, when the justices hear oral arguments in a pair of cases out of Kansas
involving jury instructions in capital sentencing.
(source: msn.com)
OHIO:
NKY officials extraditing suspect in Springdale murder to Ohio----Police say he
killed a man and stabbed 4 children
Kenton County officials dismissed the charges against an alleged bank robber
and kidnapper Thursday, but the man won't be going home free.
Instead, 20-year-old Akihiko Clayton is being returned to Ohio, where he faces
the death penalty for allegedly killing a man and stabbing 4 children.
A Hamilton County grand jury indicted Clayton in August on charges he killed
33-year-old Emilio Ramirez and also stabbed three of Ramirez's children and a
teenage nephew in their Springdale apartment during a home invasion July 2. 2
of the victims were twin 2-year-old girls.
"Anyone who's willing to stab 2-year-olds deserves the death penalty and that's
what's going to happen. This is as clear-cut as it gets," Hamilton County
Prosecutor Joe Deters said after the indictment.
Clayton fled while police responded to 911 calls from the Willows of Springdale
apartment complex. Officers arrived shortly after midnight and found blood on
the apartment door.
The victims were hospitalized after what Springdale police Chief Michael Mathis
called a "savage" attack. Some of the children required surgery.
Clayton was later arrested after he robbed a Huntington Bank in Latonia with a
toy pistol July 28, according to the Kenton County Commonwealth's Attorney
Office. Police said at the time that they caught him as he was running out the
front door with the money and phony weapon.
Because Clayton allegedly used a toy gun - and not a real gun - to rob the
bank, Kentucky law considers the robbery and kidnapping charges filed against
him to be "non-violent," Commonwealth's Attorney Rob Sanders said. That means
he would be eligible for parole within 4 years.
"Obviously this guy is very violent," Sanders said.
In Ohio, Clayton faces 2 counts of aggravated murder (capital offense), 1 count
of aggravated burglary, 1 count of aggravated robbery, 4 counts of attempted
murder and 8 counts of felonious assault.
(source: WCPO news)
******************
Death row inmates like Gregory McKnight who asked to die
Death row inmate Gregory McKnight's request to be executed for the 2000 murder
of Kenyon College student Emily Murray doesn't happen that often but isn't
unheard of in Ohio and the rest of the country.
There's Gary Gilmore, who gained notoriety in the mid-1970s for demanding he be
executed for his sentence in the double murder of an elderly couple in Utah.
His wish was granted in 1977.
Here are others:
--Timothy McVeigh was executed June 11, 2000, after he stopped appealing his
death sentence for the mass murder of 168 people in the 1995 bombing of the
Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City. 19 children died in the
blast.
--On Aug. 12, Texas inmate Daniel Lee Lopez was executed for striking and
killing a police lieutenant with an SUV during a chase more than 6 years ago.
He had asked to be executed for his crime.
In Ohio, of the 53 men executed since 1999, 8 are classified as "volunteers"
for execution by the Ohio Department of Corrections. More information about
Ohio's death row can be found at Ohioans To Stop Executions and Death Penalty
Information Center.
Ohio "volunteer" prisoners include:
--Wilford Berry of Cuyahoga County, convicted in 1989 of the murder of Charles
Mitroff of Cleveland. Berry was executed in 1999. At the time, he was the 1st
person executed in the state since 1963.
--James Filiaggi of Lorain County was executed on April 24, 2007, for the 1994
murder of his wife, Lisa Filiaggi.
--Scott Mink asked to be executed for murdering his parents, William and Sheila
Mink in Montgomery County in 2000. His wish was granted on July 20, 2004.
--Herman Ashworth was executed on Sept. 27, 2005, for the 1996 murder of Daniel
Baker in Licking County.
Legal experts say roughly 11 % of those executed in the U.S. are "volunteer"
prisoners who hasten their execution by waiving rights to appeal their
conviction.
The last person in Ohio to be executed was Dennis McGuire, who was put to death
on Jan. 16, 2014 for the 1989 murder of Joy Stewart in Preble County. 2 Ohio
executions were scheduled for November, but both have been postponed.
9 Ohio death row inmates have been exonerated and released from prison since
1976, according to the Death Penalty Information Center.
(source: cleveland.com)
INDIANA:
Death Row Inmate at 16, Later Freed, She Can't Escape Past
She was determined to make good on her 2nd chance, to become a profile of
redemption. A death row inmate at 16, Paula Cooper had won a reprieve and tried
to rebuild her life.
And she might have achieved her happy ending - if not for guilt that tormented
her and shame that wouldn't go away.
Thirty years ago, Cooper murdered an elderly Bible teacher. She pleaded guilty
and after her death sentence was set aside, she served 27 years in prison. In
2013, she was released, a middle-aged woman on her own for the 1st time.
She learned to write a check, use a cell phone, manage a household. She found a
good job and was respected by co-workers. She had many supporters - even,
amazingly, her victim's grandson. She fell in love and planned to marry.
But she also knew some people would never forgive her. She understood. She
couldn't forgive herself.
"I have taken a life and never felt worthy," she wrote her fiance in late May,
one of a series of goodbyes to loved ones.
Then, sitting down near a tree, Cooper pointed a handgun at her head and pulled
the trigger.
"I have remorse. ... I can't explain what happened. ... I can't just sit here
and say I'm sorry. ... Sorry isn't good enough for me. And sorry isn't good
enough for you." - Paula Cooper at her 1986 sentencing.
--
It was planned as a robbery.
On May 14, 1985, Cooper, then 15, and 3 other girls, knocked on the door of
Ruth Pelke's house in Gary, Indiana, pretending to be interested in Scripture
lessons. In the chaos that followed, Cooper, armed with a 12-inch knife,
stabbed the 78-year-old widow 33 times.
During sentencing, Cooper's older sister, Rhonda testified about their
turbulent upbringing. She said her stepfather, now deceased, disciplined them
with beatings. She also described how their mother once turned on the car in
the garage and announced they were going to heaven. (Cooper's mother declined
to be interviewed.)
A defense psychologist who'd interviewed Cooper found "evidence of a major
personality disorder" and also noted her traumatic childhood.
So did Judge James Kimbrough. But the law, he said, gave him no choice. Cooper
became one of the youngest juveniles in America on death row.
"Just forgive me. ... I'm not an evil person ... I'm just someone who is real
angry, angry with life & all the people around me ... I am still human & God
forgives me." - Cooper in a 1986 letter to Bill Pelke, grandson of her victim.
--
4 months into her sentence, Cooper forged a most improbable, life-changing
friendship.
It began when Bill Pelke was thinking about his beloved Nana's unwavering
faith. He became convinced she'd have compassion for Cooper and be appalled by
her sentence. He asked God, he says, for that same compassion and when his
prayer was answered, he decided to fight to spare Cooper's life.
He became an anti-death penalty activist, traveling to Rome, speaking about his
forgiveness of Cooper in a nation where a "save Paula" campaign had already
been launched. Pope John Paul II appealed for clemency.
Pelke also wrote Cooper, the 1st of hundreds of letters they'd exchange over
decades. And he visited her 14 times in prison.
In 1989, the Indiana Supreme Court vacated her execution, citing a recent state
law and a U.S. Supreme Court ruling on juvenile death sentences. Cooper's new
sentence was 60 years.
Though her life was spared, Cooper struggled as an inmate and got in trouble.
She spent three years on and off in segregation for assaulting a prison worker.
But she matured, too, earning a bachelor's degree in humanities from Martin
University in Indianapolis.
"She learned a lot of life lessons in prison," says Ormeshia Linton, who met
Cooper there. "As more people put faith and trust in her, she started believing
in herself."
Cooper participated in several programs; her favorite was culinary arts.
As her sentence was ending - she got a day off for each 1 served and credit for
her degree - Cooper wrote Pelke, anxious about her future and still questioning
what she'd done.
"Maybe it was all the beatings but after almost 30 years ... no one has ever
tried to help figure it out & and if anyone thinks prison is the real answer
people are mistaken." - Cooper's 2010 letter.
--
Freedom was exhilarating and terrifying, too.
Unaccustomed to many choices, Cooper sometimes fled the grocery while shopping.
Driving was difficult, too. She got lost easily.
Her sister, Rhonda LaBroi, encouraged her. "I told her she just had to live her
life regardless of what people say and think," LaBroi says.
But her crime weighed on her.
"She thought about it constantly ... and how she hated what she had done,"
LaBroi adds.
About a year after her release, Cooper reconnected with Monica Foster, who'd
helped save her life as a young appellate defender. They became close friends.
Last fall, Foster, who heads the Indiana Federal Community Defender's Office,
hired Cooper as a legal assistant.
She had little experience, but Cooper was tenacious, organized and "the soul of
the office," Foster says. She understood the clients' vulnerabilities and
fears, she adds, and "had an empathy that was off the charts."
Then came another positive turn in her life.
She met LeShon Davidson. The 2 became inseparable. During a Thanksgiving visit
to Cooper's mother, Davidson proposed. He'd already bought Cooper a diamond
engagement ring.
But there were rough patches, too. The couple had a big fight Memorial Day
weekend. It followed another emotional upheaval: Cooper had hoped to accompany
her mother to church for Mother's Day, friends say, but her mother said she'd
need to get her pastor's approval.
"It really, really hurt her feelings," Davidson says. "She said, 'I did my
crime and I thought I paid my debt to society. ... Other people that don't
really know me - they accept me, but my own mother she won't let the past just
die.'"
"I must have peace, peace of mind, peace in my heart." - Cooper's taped message
to friends and family, found May 26, 2015.
--
On the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend, Cooper visited Ormeshia Linton at work.
"It's the pain inside," Linton recalls Cooper saying, pointing to her heart. "I
just want it to be over."
To Linton, the message was clear: "I don't think she ever felt she deserved a
second chance. It was guilt."
On May 26, after spending a few days with Linton and her husband, Cooper
slipped out of their house, leaving four goodbye notes and a taped farewell.
In her note to Davidson, she wrote:
"I said my prayer and asked God if it were OK and he said yes, he is mad, but
understands. I can't stay with this misery inside I fight every day, this voice
that tells me I'll never be happy."
Cooper's sister, fiance, co-workers and friends held a memorial.
They watched a slide show of Cooper at her college graduation, at work, with
loved ones. This was the life they wanted to remember - not the ghastly
beginning or the end, but the redemption and joy in-between.
There were tears, even though Cooper forbade them in her tape.
"I don't want people crying and having a lot of regrets feeling they could have
did more," she said. "There was nothing more anybody could do. It's time."
(source: Associated Press)
More information about the DeathPenalty
mailing list