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

[Rick Halperin]

Oct. 18



TEXAS:

"I want to thank Corporal Frazier and his candor in his recollection and 
reporting of the events surrounding the execution of Licho Escamilla on October 
14, 2015. Mrs. James has suffered a terrible, tragic and unnecessary loss 
during the killing of her husband. This is a loss she will, most likely, never 
overcome and my heart goes out to her and the children. However, I would like 
to take exception to how Corporal Frazier recalls the events surrounding the 
execution. I have no doubt that the motorcycle officers "agreed to not say or 
do anything when Escamilla's family came out".

According to Corporal Frazier, "They avoided eye contact. No one wanted to 
provoke the family". He goes on to state that "they [Escamilla's family] were 
losing someone close to them, too and no one was there to condemn the family. 
They [the officers] were there to condemn the murderer." But, unfortunately, 
that is not what happened. The unspeakable happened. The laughter ensued. From 
the officers. Laughter so loud that the family and supporters half a block down 
could hear. Laughter that seemed to last for ages. The family, friends and 
supporters could not believe it. The organization "Journey of Hope....From 
violence to Healing" were there and, along with all of us, were appalled. I had 
to hold up a very close friend of the family because she collapsed when the 
laughter would not stop. This action was not in line with "No one was there to 
condemn the family.

They were there to condemn the murderer". So, Corporal Frazier and all the 
other officers from Dallas: I can understand why you may want to tell the 
readers in Dallas your version of what happened. But, please be honest and tell 
the whole story. Let the population of Dallas hear what actually took place. My 
sincere thoughts and condolences are with both the James and the Escamilla 
family, who are the innocent victims in the whole horrible tragedy."

Pat Hartwell

(source: Dallas Morning News)

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

see: http://www.thepetitionsite.com/378/682/201/help-save-wesley-lynn-ruiz/

(source: the petitionsite.com)






PENNSYLVANIA:

Death row inmates suit to continue


A class-action lawsuit by Pennsylvania's 184 death row inmates can continue 
despite objections from attorneys for the Pennsylvania Department of 
Corrections.

The Commonwealth Court on Thursday refused to throw out the lawsuit brought by 
convicted Lehigh Valley mass murderer Michael Eric Ballard and 4 others on 
behalf of the state's other death row inmates.

They claim the Department of Corrections has illegally changed the drugs it 
uses in lethal injections, which is the method of capital punishment used in 
Pennsylvania.

David Rudovsky, the lawyer for the inmates, say the key issue is whether 
corrections officials can change the drugs used without action by the General 
Assembly.

The Department of Corrections changed the drugs it plans to use because of 
difficulties in getting some drugs from manufacturers who have come under fire 
from death penalty opponents.

(source: Associated Press)

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

Candidates for Pennsylvania Superior Court differ on role of the court


The 2 candidates for a single spot on the Pennsylvania Superior Court both have 
years of experience as trial court judges and attorneys to prepare them for 
service on an appellate court.

They are separated, they say, by a difference in judicial philosophy.

Judge Emil Giordano, a Republican elected in 2003 to the Court of Common Pleas 
of Northampton County, describes himself as a "strict constructionist."

"I would follow the black letter of the law," he said in an interview. "I 
firmly and unequivocally believe that it's the sole function of the Legislature 
to change the law."

By contrast, Judge Alice Beck Dubow, a Democrat elected in 2007 to the Court of 
Common Pleas of Philadelphia, says that while she respects the limits imposed 
by the Legislature and the precedent set by the courts, she also believes the 
courts have a role in reflecting changes in society.

"My sense is that he does not want to deviate from the existing law, and I 
believe that its the court's responsibility to deviate slowly and deliberately 
so the law reflects changes in society," Judge Dubow said.

As an example, Judge Dubow cited a case in which she ruled that a woman who had 
pleaded guilty should get a new trial after the district attorney threw out 
charges against other defendants whose cases, like the woman's, involved 
narcotics officers who were themselves investigated by the federal government. 
The woman argued that if she had waited to plead guilty, the charges would have 
been dismissed.

"My sense of fairness was, yeah, she deserves a new trial because it was an 
arbitrary date that she had pleaded guilty," the judge said.

The Superior Court reversed the decision, she said.

Judge Giordano and Judge Dubow differ, too, when it comes to the issue of the 
death penalty. Judge Giordano said he believes the moratorium Gov. Tom Wolf, a 
Democrat, has declared on the death penalty has no effect.

"I believe the existing death penalty statute is valid and should be applied," 
he said.

Judge Dubow said she does not know the answer to the question of whether Mr. 
Wolf has the authority to declare a moratorium. The Pennsylvania Supreme Court 
last month heard arguments in a challenge by the Philadelphia district attorney 
to the governor's announcement that he would grant a reprieve for each 
scheduled execution.

Before joining the bench, Judge Dubow worked as a law clerk, an attorney in 
private practice, an assistant city solicitor for Philadelphia and a deputy 
general counsel for Drexel University. She said the most memorable, though 
probably the most difficult, cases she has handled as a judge are those 
involving abused and neglected children.

Judge Giordano worked as an assistant district attorney, an assistant public 
defender and lead counsel for his own law practice. As a judge, he said, he has 
handled matters from adoptions to medical malpractice to death penalty cases.

"This comes down to qualifications and experience," Judge Giordano said. "There 
is very little if anything I can think of that would come before me in the 
Superior Court that I have not handled either as a lawyer or as a judge."

The Superior Court, 1 of 2 statewide intermediate appellate courts, is 
responsible for appeals in criminal and most civil cases from the Courts of 
Common Pleas and also hears appeals in matters involving children and families.

Both candidates are recommended by the Pennsylvania Bar Association.

(source: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette)






SOUTH CAROLINA:

The ultimate punishment: A look at death row in South Carolina


Heavily fenced in and guarded on the outskirts of Ridgeville lies Lieber 
Correctional Institution. Among the criminal offenders housed within are 40 
inmates even more isolated than the rest.

By the numbers

**

43 state-ordered killings over the past 4 decades have earned South Carolina a 
ranking of 7th, with a per-capita rate of .093 for every 10,000 residents, 
among the 36 states that utilized the death penalty in that time, Death Penalty 
Information Center records show.

Oklahoma tops the list with a per-capita rate of .299 for its 112 executions, 
followed by Texas, which has a rate of .207 for 521 executions, according to 
the center's records. Kansas and New Hampshire round out the bottom of the list 
as neither state has performed an execution since the death penalty was 
reinstated in 1976, according to the center.

Seeing a death penalty case through to execution costs South Carolina an 
average of $1.1 million more than life without parole, in part due to added 
constitutional protections that ensure that those facing death are assigned at 
least 2 attorneys with access to funds needed to thoroughly investigate and try 
capital cases, according to the Death Penalty Resource and Defense Center in 
Columbia. Trial alone for a death penalty case costs $415,240 more than a 
non-capital murder trial, the center reports.

**

Heavily fenced in and guarded on the outskirts of Ridgeville lies Lieber 
Correctional Institution. Among the criminal offenders housed within are 40 
inmates even more isolated than the rest.

A monotonous existence awaits those condemned to the corridors of death row. 
Having committed the most egregious of crimes against others across the state, 
these men now spend the bulk of their time alone.

They eat and sleep in single cells. The lucky ones get an hour of recreation 
time a day, often spent exercising or reaching through the bars that divide 
them to play a game of checkers with a neighboring inmate.

"You rarely hear any of them talking about the death penalty or what they have 
coming up," said the prison's warden, Joseph McFadden. Those conversations are 
reserved for private talks with psychologists and clergymen who come to visit 
from time to time, he said.

43 state-ordered killings over the past 4 decades have earned South Carolina a 
ranking of 7th, per capita, among the 36 states that used the death penalty in 
that time, Death Penalty Information Center records show.

Punishment does not come swiftly. Lengthy judicial hearings in the appellate 
process can take years, sometimes decades, to navigate. And it is costly - an 
estimated average of $1.1 million more than pursuing life without parole.

The death-row inmates currently housed at Lieber have been in the Department of 
Corrections system an average of about 14 years, state records show. Meanwhile, 
the families they've victimized are left chasing closure, forced to relive 
their horrors with each new court date.

This is the world of Marion Bowman, who, in 2001, shot a young Orangeburg 
mother to death with a .380-caliber pistol and set her remains on fire because 
she owed him money.

And William Dickerson Jr., who burned a man, cut him 200 times, knocked out his 
teeth and sexually assaulted him with multiple objects before finally 
strangling him on James Island in 2006.

And John Edward Weik, who in 1998 cut down his former girlfriend with shotgun 
blasts while her 2 children hid in a nearby bathroom at her home in 
Knightsville.

And Jesse Sapp, who reportedly killed himself last week while awaiting a new 
sentence for killing a Highway Patrol trooper during a 2002 traffic stop on 
College Park Road, bringing an end to an appellate process that spanned 12 
years.

It's the world that could await Dylann Roof if he's convicted and sentenced to 
death in the killing of 9 parishioners while they worshipped in June at Emanuel 
AME Church in Charleston.

Ninth Circuit Solicitor Scarlett Wilson last month announced her intentions to 
seek the death penalty in the case, described by some as the deadliest hate 
crime in South Carolina's history.

"This was the ultimate crime," Wilson said, "and justice from our state calls 
for the ultimate punishment."

Families wait

Many watched and were touched by words of forgiveness uttered by families of 
the Emanuel victims during a bond hearing for Roof. Their faith, they said, is 
what gave them the strength to do so.

That same faith prevents many of the families from supporting capital 
punishment, Wilson said while announcing her decision.

Still, some others seek closure in the wake of tragedy through calls for the 
harshest possible penalty.

"She didn't deserve to lose her life," said Cordelia Martin, the Orangeburg 
mother of the 21-year-old woman killed by Bowman.

An execution won't bring her daughter back, Martin said, but Bowman needs to be 
punished.

"That's the only way I'm going to get closure," she said.

14 years have passed since Kandee Martin's body was found in the trunk of a 
burned car in the woods of Dorchester County. But resolution in the case has 
escaped the woman's family.

The ordeal has been a source of constant stress for the grieving mother and her 
husband.

"I don't understand why it's lasted this long," she said.

Bowman has repeatedly argued through appeals that he didn't receive a fair 
trial, alleging, among other things, that a search of his home that netted 
evidence in the case wasn't warranted. Attempts to overturn his conviction and 
sentence so far have failed.

Keeping track of the numerous court proceedings over the years is a 
responsibility that has fallen on Martin's husband. Standing in the same room 
as the man who stole her daughter's life is something Martin said she can't 
bring herself to do.

"It just got to be too much for me," she said.

The convicted killer was someone her family had trusted. Bowman went to school 
with her children and worked for her husband, Martin said. If Kandee Martin had 
owed the man money, as Bowman had claimed in court, her parents would have paid 
had he come to them.

"That's no excuse to kill someone, especially a girl who's just starting her 
life" Martin said.

Sitting through Bowman's trial was a "horrible" experience for the woman.

"He was sitting up there laughing and everything," Martin said. "He was going 
to get off, he said. He was going to make it to biker's weekend and 
everything."

A jury convicted Bowman on murder and 3rd-degree arson charges in May 2002. 
Bowman's cockiness was soon replaced with tears at the reading of his sentence, 
Martin said.

But the family's victory is now well over a decade old. A preliminary execution 
date for the man came and went.

With no apparent end in sight, all Kandee Martin's loved ones can do is wait.

"It's hard on me, it's hard on her father and it's hard on her brothers and 
sisters. She was a big part of our life. When he took her, he took a part of 
me," Martin said. "They should have taken care of this."

The lengthy process

After 16 years on death row, the fate of inmate John Edward Weik is even less 
certain.

The state Supreme Court last year granted Weik a new sentencing hearing, citing 
concerns regarding the strength of his defense during his original trial. The 
decision put into question whether Weik will be put to death for his brutal 
attack on Susan Krasae, the mother of his child, or whether his penalty will be 
reduced to life behind bars.

Former 1st Circuit Solicitor Walter Bailey notified Weik of his intentions to 
seek the death penalty in the summer of 1998.

It was a decision he made roughly 20 times during his 11-year stint in office, 
he said.

As a prosecutor, he said, pursuit of the ultimate punishment begins with 
familiarizing yourself with the harrowing details of the case.

An "aggravating circumstance" is required by state law to heighten a homicide 
to that level. Kidnapping a victim, performing some act of torture or sexual 
assault, harming a child and killing during the commission of an armed robbery 
or burglary would all qualify, he said, among other factors.

Bailey pored over the details contained in Weik's file after Krasae's death. 
When he was done, he said, he was certain that the slaying warranted capital 
punishment.

"He killed her in cold blood. ... And he did it in a manner where the 1st shot 
would hurt her, but it wouldn't be fatal," Bailey said.

Bailey served notice of his intentions with the family's support and the facts 
on his side, he said.

So when the state Supreme Court decided to vacate Weik's sentence more than a 
decade later, he was left feeling somewhat confused, he said.

During trial, defense attorneys presented multiple expert witnesses who 
attested to Weik's mental health, which included a diagnosis of paranoid 
schizophrenia, auditory and visual hallucinations, suicidal ideations and 
paranoid delusions, a written Supreme Court opinion on the case read.

The court was compelled, though, by the effect that being raised by an abusive 
father, who also suffered from mental illness, had on the killing, according to 
court documents.

"90 % of that opinion dealt with the mental status of Weik's father. That was 
the most confusing aspect for me. Everyone knew he had mental health issues. 
The jury had that information beforehand," Bailey said.

The criticism that comes through the appellate process is necessary, Bailey 
maintained, despite the turn in the case.

"Death penalty cases have a lot of scrutiny, and they ought to because there's 
no going back once someone's executed," he said.

He said the process often forces defense attorneys to build cases not based on 
what's best for their clients but by what will satisfy an appellate court down 
the road.

Of the 20-odd times that Bailey pursued capital punishment, he recalled roughly 
14 of those cases ending in death penalty sentences. The amount seemed like a 
lot at the time, he said. The rate at which the sentence has been granted has 
steadily declined nationwide over the years.

"The cases are just as bad now," he said, "it's just that the individual 
solicitor has the sole discretion. Some prosecutors have a tendency to do more 
of them than others do. It all depends," Bailey said. "It's very expensive and 
it's very time-consuming. Those are the main reasons not to pursue it."

The death penalty cases he prosecuted, however, were worth the expense, he 
said.

Asked whether the decision to pursue death has ever weighed heavy on his own 
conscious, Bailey responded that it's not his decision alone to make.

"I've got to convince 12 jurors and a judge. It takes 13 people to grant a 
death sentence," Bailey said. "I haven't had any regrets or lost any sleep."

Examining the system

Ron Kaz, however, has spent the past 35 years actively fighting against capital 
punishment.

The penalty, Kaz said, is one he can't accept on principle. The James Island 
man co-chairs advocacy group South Carolinians Abolishing the Death Penalty.

"I don't think you can solve any problems by killing people," he said. 
"Secondly, I don't believe government has the right to be killing people. The 
whole idea of the death penalty is contrary to the idea of human rights."

In 1972, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that laws surrounding capital punishment 
at the time were largely unconstitutional. New laws began to surface across the 
nation by 1976, to Kaz's dismay, he said.

"The way it's been used in this country is so problematic, even people who 
support the death penalty need to think about what's going on," Kaz said. "The 
system is racist, classist, it doesn't work, they don't get the right people 
and it's way more expensive than being sentenced to life. There are just so 
many problems with it, it's ridiculous."

Of the 282 inmates killed by the state since 1912, 74 were white and 208 were 
black, according to the Corrections Department.

A study on South Carolina's death-penalty practices that was published in 2006 
found racial disparities in the system. Of South Carolina's homicides over a 
5-year period in the mid- to late 1990s, prosecutors sought the death penalty 
in 1.2 % of cases involving a black defendant and a black victim compared with 
9.7 % of cases involving a black defendant and white victim, according to the 
study. Also, prosecutors sought the death penalty in 6.7 % of cases involving a 
white defendant and white victim compared with 2.6 % of cases involving a white 
defendant and black victim, the study found.

For Isaac Unah, a professor at the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill who 
coauthored the study, the results raised questions about the value placed on 
minority lives, both as offenders and victims.

"It's pretty striking when you think about it," Unah said. "When I did this 
research, my motivation was not to go out there and help death-row inmates. 
It's just an issue I think needed some critical examination."

More than 150 death-row inmates have been exonerated nationwide since 1976, Kaz 
said.

"That's an error rate of more than 10 %. If 1 hot dog in every pack was no 
good, they'd stop selling those hot dogs," Kaz said. "Yet we keep killing 
people, even though the record shows we can't get it right."

Years of appeals do little to spare innocents caught in the system, he said.

"What people don't understand about the appellate process is that it's designed 
to make sure the law is followed, not to make sure the person is guilty," Kaz 
said. "They can go ahead and execute an innocent person as long as they follow 
the rules."

The average length of time it takes for a death row inmate to be exonerated is 
9 years, Kaz said.

"If you speed up the process, then you increase the number of innocent people 
who are going to be executed. Every time you execute the wrong person, the 
guilty murderer is still running around out there," Kaz said.

Execution methods

South Carolina's execution chamber at Broad River Correctional Institution in 
Columbia - a gurney, backed by a brick wall and flanked by curtains with a 
glass window separating it from witness seating - has sat unused since 2011.

The state's supply of a drug cocktail used for lethal injection expired in 
2013. In the meantime, South Carolina has no means of executing death-row 
inmates unless they agree to the state's other allowed method: electrocution.

Only 3 of the 39 death-row inmates put to death in South Carolina have opted 
for electrocution since lethal injection was brought into practice in 1995, 
Corrections Department records show.

"We continue to look for alternatives and acquire the drugs used in our 
procedure," Corrections spokeswoman Stephanie Givens said of the state's status 
to address the situation.

Until the issue is resolved, those condemned to death row remain at Lieber, 
biding their time under McFadden's watchful eye as the clock winds down.

For McFadden, death-row or not, the inmates under his charge are one and the 
same.

"My approach is simple," McFadden said. "Treat everyone with respect, but at 
the same time understand that I do have a job to do, and try to do it to the 
best of my ability."

South Carolina executions

Since Aug. 6, 1912, there have been 282 executions carried out by the state of 
South Carolina. Prior to this date, executions were by hanging in the 
individual counties. Of the 282, 74 were white and 208 were black. Also, 280 
were men and 2 were women. The following table shows the frequency of 
executions:

1912-20 47 (electrocution)

1921-30 38 (electrocution)

1931-40: 68 (electrocution)

1941-50: 57 (electrocution)

1951-60: 24 (electrocution)

1961-62: 7 (electrocution)

1985-86: 2 (electrocution)

1990: 1 (electrocution)

1991: 1 (electrocution)

1995: 1 (lethal injection)

1996: 5 (lethal injection), 1 (electrocution)

1997: 2 (lethal injection)

1998: 7 (lethal injection)

1999: 4 (lethal injection)

2000: 1 (lethal injection)

2002: 3 (lethal injection)

2004: 3 (lethal injection), 1 (electrocution)

2005: 3 (lethal injection)

2006: 1 (lethal injection)

2007: 1 (lethal injection)

2008: 2 (lethal injection), 1 (electrocution)

2009: 2 (lethal injection)

2011: 1 (lethal injection)

[source: Department of Corrections]

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

Attorney fights to free those on death row she believes innocent


Hunting for the innocents hidden among a list of condemned killers is a concept 
Columbia-based defense attorney Diana Holt is more than familiar with.

Just days before the scheduled execution of Richard Charles Johnson, Holt found 
herself in Nebraska collecting a statement from a woman claiming responsibility 
for the man's alleged crimes.

Johnson, the woman, Connie Sue Hess, and a 3rd person, Curtis Harbert, were all 
present in September 1985 when Highway Patrol trooper Bruce Smalls was gunned 
down during a traffic stop.

Johnson was later caught with the murder weapon and convicted in the killing. 
Hess had given varying accounts to investigators of the moments that preceded 
the shooting. But while speaking with Holt 14 years later, Hess claimed through 
tears that it was she who had pulled the trigger, not Johnson.

The revelation was enough to spare Johnson's life in the moment, but ultimately 
it didn't save him. Johnson was ushered to South Carolina's execution chamber 
and to his death in May 2002 having never received an opportunity to present 
the new evidence before a jury.

A state Supreme Court opinion filed the previous year denied the man's petition 
for a new trial, and questioned the credibility of the woman's statement given 
her history of mental illness.

The ruling was not unanimous.

"Should the State of South Carolina execute a man for murder when someone else 
confesses to committing the murder and that confession has never been presented 
to a jury?," former Justice John Waller said in a countering opinion. "Because 
I would answer that question in the negative, I respectfully dissent."

Holt's career defending death-row inmates began in law school when she took on 
the case of Edward Lee Elmore, a man convicted in the 1982 beating and stabbing 
of 75-year-old Dorothy Edwards, of Greenwood. Elmore's 28 years on death row 
came to an end in 2010 when a judge ruled that a mental disability made him 
ineligible for execution. Elmore's sentence was altered to that of life in 
prison.

The sentence reduction was not enough for Holt, who has maintained for years 
that Elmore is innocent of the crime. A blond hair found on Edwards' body 
didn't match Elmore, who is black, or the woman, suggesting someone else was 
responsible for the killing, according to Holt.

The evidence, falsely reported by police as blue fibers, had been concealed in 
an investigator's desk drawer for nearly 17 years before being uncovered by 
Elmore's team of attorneys, Holt said.

A deal with prosecutors in 2012 saw Elmore released from prison in exchange for 
an Alford plea, an option for defendants who plead guilty without admitting to 
the act, though they acknowledge that prosecutors have enough evidence to land 
a conviction.

"Did I like him not being exonerated? No, I didn't like that at all, but what 
was much more important was this man's life," Holt said. "He needed to go free 
and not spend another moment longer that he absolutely had to just to prove a 
point. ... Alford pleas are the way out for some guys who would just languish 
in there for another 10 to 15 years."

By state law, a lengthy appellate process begins at the moment of sentencing 
for death-row inmates, Holt said.

Court reporters busy themselves transcribing lengthy judicial proceedings, and 
defense attorneys sift through thousands of pages in documents to hunt for any 
missteps that preceded the sentence. That process alone can take a year, Holt 
said, 2 before attorneys can present their arguments verbally before the state 
Supreme Court. The process is often delayed, she said, as attorneys on both 
sides are saddled with numerous cases all demanding their attention.

If the court denies the defendant's petition, defense attorneys can attempt to 
bring their case before the U.S. Supreme Court, Holt said. More often than not, 
though, the inmate will apply for post-conviction relief, where they are 
assigned a new attorney, new prosecutor and judge in an attempt to have their 
conviction overturned.

"Post-conviction relief is where the bulk of these cases get worked the way 
they should have been worked before," Holt said. "You have to push, push, push 
and dig, dig, dig. Never quit, never stop asking questions because there are 
paper trails in these things. And that's where you find proof that somebody did 
something they shouldn't have done. Somebody withheld something that they 
shouldn't have withheld."

It's "laborious" work that takes years to complete, Holt said. But it's 
necessary.

"There are far, far fewer death notices and death verdicts because the quality 
of representation has improved vastly and the public's faith in the death 
penalty has just as vastly declined due to exonerations," Holt said.

(source for both: The Post and Courier)






OHIO:

U.S. Supreme Court refuses to hear Twinsburg cop killer's appeal


Less than a year after the Ohio Supreme Court by a 4-3 vote upheld Ashford 
Lamar Thompson's death sentence in the July 2008 murder of Twinsburg Police 
Officer Joshua Miktarian, the U.S. Supreme Court denied to hear a direct appeal 
from Thompson Oct. 5.

"We are pleased the U.S. Supreme Court rejected Ashford Thompson's direct 
appeal," said Summit County Prosecutor Sherri Bevan Walsh. "Thompson shot and 
killed Officer Josh Miktarian in cold blood.

"However, our system allows him many opportunities to attack his conviction," 
Bevan Walsh said. "This is just the second in many appellate rulings we will 
see before Thompson's sentence can be imposed. Our hearts remain with Officer 
Miktarian's family."

The U.S. Supreme Court denied Thompson's petition for writ of certiorari Oct. 
5, refusing to hear the appeal.

Thompson represented himself in the direct appeal.

An execution date will not be set until all of Thompson's post-conviction 
appeals in the state have been exhausted, according to the Summit County 
Prosecutor's Office. The Ohio Supreme Court stayed execution Feb. 23.

Thompson currently has 2 pending appeals -- 1 before Summit County Court of 
Common Pleas Judge Todd McKenney and another in the Ohio Supreme Court.

The Ohio Supreme Court on Oct. 29, 2014, affirmed Thompson's death sentence, 
after he was convicted of aggravated murder in the July 13, 2008, shooting 
death of the 33-year-old Twinsburg officer and Tallmadge resident following a 
late-night traffic stop.

Thompson was found guilty by a Summit County Court of Common Pleas jury June 
11, 2010, of 2 counts of aggravated murder, 1 count of escape, 2 counts of 
resisting arrest, 3 counts of tampering with evidence and 1 count of carrying a 
concealed weapon in the murder of the 11-year Twinsburg officer and Tallmadge 
resident.

The death sentence was handed down by Summit County Court of Common Pleas Judge 
Elinore Marsh Stormer June 23, 2010, and Thompson filed for appeal July 26, 
2011. The state filed a response brief Dec. 12, 2011, summarily rejecting each 
of the 18 counts in Thompson's appeal and concluding that the death penalty, 
among others, must be affirmed by the state's high court.

The Ohio Supreme Court heard Thompson's appeal of his death sentence April 8, 
2014.

During oral arguments before the state's high court, legal counsel for Thompson 
said his death sentence should be overturned due legal and procedural errors 
made during his trial, among other issues.

Prosecutors, however, cited comments made by Thompson at a bar before the 
shooting and other evidence in seeking affirmation of his death sentence.

In her majority decision, Justice Judith L. French wrote that the legal process 
instituting a death sentence was conducted in proper order, and the penalty was 
appropriate for the crime.

French ruled that the intentional way that Thompson shot Miktarian outweighed 
the offender's arguments for mercy.

"The nature and circumstances of the crime do not support Thompson's claims of 
panic," French wrote.

In a dissent, Justice William O'Neill said evidence showed Thompson was 
confused and frightened after he was pulled over and mistakenly believed the 
officer was going to attack him.

Thompson, 31, remains on death row at the Chillicothe Correctional Institution, 
more than seven after shooting and killing Miktarian.

(source: Tallmadge Express)

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

Death penalty isn't justice, should be ended


Thank you for publishing the article on the death penalty walk ("Death-penalty 
opponents march to Columbus" Oct. 10). I walked the entire 83 miles from the 
death house in Lucasville to the Statehouse in Columbus because I believe the 
death penalty is wrong.

Here are the facts: There is no evidence that the death penalty deters crime; 
72 % of the world's nations do not use the death penalty; and capital 
punishment costs 3 to 5 times more than the cost of incarceration for life. The 
system has repeatedly sentenced the innocent to death - including 9 in Ohio - 
and multiple studies show that race, wealth and geographic location, rather 
than the brutality of the crime, determine who receives a death sentence. State 
killing of people in the name of justice is unjust and should be stopped.

Daniel Schneider, Fairfax

(source: Letter to the Editor, cincinnati.com)