[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----DEL., VA., N.C., GA., FLA.

[Rick Halperin]

Sept. 27




DELAWARE:

Panel talks Del. prisons, race, death penalty in Lewes


When Sherry Dorsey Walker, a Wilmington councilwoman, described her opposition 
to the death penalty inside a Lewes church, she spoke from personal experience.

In 1986, her cousin was killed in Newark by a group of white teenagers in what 
she called a racially motivated attack.

"Once he and the young men fought, it was really supposed to have been over," 
Walker said.

But after her cousin lost the fight and dropped to the pavement, the group got 
into a vehicle "and they drove over his face. And they put the car in reverse 
and drove back over his face."

Then, still in grade school, she believed the perpetrators needed to pay for 
their crime.

"For many, many years I was so angry," she continued. "I thought they deserved 
the death penalty for what they did to my cousin."

But as she grew, she said her view on the punishment "evolved spiritually and 
emotionally," and now she's one of the leaders of the Delaware Repeal Project, 
a movement to urge legislators to vote to remove the penalty from state law.

In a forum held inside the newly constructed Unitarian Universalists of 
Southern Delaware church in Lewes, a number of guest speakers focused on 
Delaware's criminal justice system.

In a state where blacks and minorities make up the majority of those 
incarcerated in its prisons, it was a frank talk about how the repeal movement 
reaches farther than only its primary focus.

Race and incarceration - 5:1 for blacks vs. whites

After Walker set the stage for the discussion, the Rev. Donald Morton, pastor 
of Perfected Life Church in New Castle, spoke to what he believes is a 
"normalization of social misery" in Delaware's urban areas.

"In urban spaces in particular, there's this sense that what's happening in 
urban spaces has been normalized," Morton said.

His point was urban communities, mainly those with large minority populations, 
have become numb to violence and poverty. Therefore, they fall into a cycle in 
which both they and the state's criminal justice system see them as a target.

He raised the fatal shooting of a wheelchair-bound black man in Wilmington to 
illustrate his point.

While police say the man, Jeremy "Bam" McDole, was armed and reaching for his 
gun when 4 police officers shot him on Sept. 23, the state's Department of 
Justice is now investigating after a video showing part of the incident was 
posted online. In the video, a man narrates the event while watching it unfold.

To Morton, it was the man's tone of voice that stood out.

"It wasn't as if (he) was excitable as it was something new," Morton said. 
"(He) lives in that every day. The man shot lives in that every day."

His argument was that if those in urban communities - which see larger minority 
populations than compared to whites nationwide - feel gun violence is a regular 
part of day-to-day life, it'll continually "normalize" that violence as a 
common response.

And because of the cultural roots African-Americans have with the urban 
community, it becomes what he called "our intoxication of thinking."

"We've actually made it illegal to be young, black and outside," Morton said. 
"So we're guilty of something. I don't know quite what that something is. But 
black folks are guilty of something."

"We're guilty of something based on the clothes that we wear. We're guilty of 
something based on the words we use," he continued.

Death penalty and race

At the beginning of a 3-person panel, the discussion led with an examination on 
how the death penalty affects the disproportionate number of blacks and 
minorities in Delaware's prisons.

In 2012, a group of professors at Cornell University found that of 49 
defendants sentenced to death since 1972, 53 % were black while 39 % were 
white. Comparatively, whites make up for 73 % of the state's population.

In addition, that disparity has continued in recent years, with whites only 
accounting for 23 % of those currently on death row, according to the study.

Paula Maiorano, a minister with Unitarian Universalists and an advocate against 
inequality, said the state's prison population is representative of a societal 
bias not represented by facts.

"White people actually do drugs more ... than African-American young people," 
Maiorano. "And yet, the concentration is particularly aimed at 
African-Americans. The stops are made. The arrests are made."

"So what we have is a targeted number of our citizens in our state who are 
arrested more frequently, go to trial more frequently, are convicted more 
frequently (and) are given longer sentences more frequently," she added.

Delaware Chief Justice: Delaware prisons have "shocking disparities" with 
racial makeup

It was a point touched upon by the Rev. Morton earlier when he said "well over 
70 % of those on death row are black and brown."

"There's still a prevailing thought that we're not supposed to be here," Morton 
said. "The way to deal with that is do we incarcerate (blacks and minorities) 
... or do we determine to rehabilitate them?"

Jessica Mann, a law clerk with a Philadelphia-based law firm, argued the death 
penalty "doesn't serve any purpose of punishment because you're sending someone 
to death when there's 20 years of appeals."

"But when you add on the fact that African-Americans, Hispanics, Latinos are 
being incarcerated at a rate so much higher than other individuals, and they're 
more likely to receive the death penalty, it reflects negatively on our 
criminal justice system," Mann said. "Because it helps to bolster the fact that 
today, despite what we may want to think, we value white lives more than we 
value other life."

Poverty, race and criminal justice

Maiorano also pointed to how poverty plays a part in conviction rates.

"Because if you have a good lawyer, often you get a lighter sentence or no 
sentence at all versus if you do not have the money and you're represented by a 
public defender," Maiorano said.

She added that conviction rates rise for those who cannot pay bail and await 
trial in jail, which disproportionately affects the poor and, by extension, the 
black population.

Several members also focused on Sen. Bryan Townsend, D-11-Newark, who was at 
the forum.

"We've got to vote about it. Nobody ever gets a pass," Morton said. "It's time 
to evaluate what they are voting for."

He then pointed at Townsend, asking those who feel strongly about the movement 
to repeal the death penalty to "hold elected officials like Bryan Townsend 
accountable."

(source: delmamrvanow.com)






VIRGINIA:

Terry McAuliffe Has To Decide Whether To Allow Virginia To Execute A Man----If 
McAuliffe allows the execution of serial killer Alfredo Prieto to go forward on 
Oct. 1, it will be the state???s first in more than 30 months. It would also 
make McAuliffe only the 3rd sitting Democratic governor to execute someone.


On Oct. 1, Alfredo Prieto, a serial killer sentenced to death by juries in two 
different states, is scheduled to be executed by the Commonwealth of Virginia. 
If Virginia Gov. Terry McAuliffe allows the execution to go forward, it will 
make him only the 3rd sitting Democratic governor to execute someone.

Death penalty opponents have asked Virginia Gov. Terry McAuliffe, who has the 
sole authority to grant clemency in Virginia, to "grant a temporary reprieve of 
his execution" so that Prieto can be transferred to California, where he has 
challenged his 2nd death sentence by claiming intellectual disability.

Prieto also has a case pending before the Supreme Court about the conditions he 
faces in Virginia's prisons - death row inmates are automatically placed in 
solitary confinement - but that case, obviously, will come to an end should 
Prieto be put to death.

All signs at the moment point to the commonwealth preparing to move forward 
with the execution. This past week, Virginia Attorney General Mark Herring???s 
office said that there were no challenges pending to his Virginia convictions 
that would prevent him from being executed.

Earlier this year, McAuliffe supported an effort to shield information about 
how Virginia obtained its lethal injection drugs. The measure failed, however, 
and on Thursday lawyers in an unrelated case in Oklahoma claimed in a court 
filing there that public records from Virginia show that the commonwealth 
purchased its current supply of its execution drug, pentobarbital, from the 
state of Texas.

On Friday, Virginia confirmed the claim, with its department of corrections 
spokesperson specifying that the drug purchase was intended to be used to 
execute Prieto next week.

In a story earlier this year addressing his support for the pending secrecy 
legislation, spokesman Brian Coy told The Washington Post that McAuliffe does 
not support the death penalty but would enforce it: "He is a Catholic, so there 
is a moral component to his position on the issue, but he's governor, and he 
will enforce the law."

Coy did not immediately respond to a request Saturday for comment on whether 
McAuliffe is considering using his clemency authority to stop Prieo's 
execution.

As The Washington Post reported last year, Prieto "has been convicted of 
murdering 3 people, raping 2 of them, and DNA or ballistics link him to another 
6 homicides and 2 rapes."

Nonetheless, his execution in Virginia would both be unusual and is a sign of 
the changing landscape for the death penalty.

Historically, in the period since the Supreme Court ended its 4-year moratorium 
on executions in 1976, Virginia has been 1 of the more active death penalty 
states in the country, having conducted 110 executions - 14 in one year, 1999.

In the past 5 years, however, the commonwealth has only executed 2 people. 
McAuliffe's predecessor, Bob McDonnell, conducted both. The most recent 
execution in Virginia took place more than 2 1/2 years ago, when Robert Gleason 
was electrocuted for the murders of 2 men.

McAuliffe is not quite half-way through his single term-limited 4-year term, 
but the commonwealth has yet to conduct an execution under his watch. Likewise, 
while several recent Virginia governors have granted clemency to at least 1 
person on death row under their watch - including Govs. Douglas Wilder, George 
Allen, Jim Gilmore, Mark Warner, and Tim Kaine - McAuliffe has not.

This issue has not come up, in part, because only 8 people remain on Virginia's 
death row. In addition to the significant number of executions carried out by 
the commonwealth between 1995 and 2000, there has been a large decrease in the 
number of people added to Virginia's death row. No one in the commonwealth has 
been sentenced to death since McAuliffe became governor in January 2014. Mark 
Lawlor was the last person added to Virginia's death row back in 2011.

While the diminishing role of the death penalty in Virginia is 1 element of why 
Prieto's execution would be unusual, another is the national political scene. 
Among Democratic governors in America, only 2 have allowed executions to 
proceed under his or her watch.

McAuliffe would be the 3rd. The only other 2 sitting Democratic governors to 
execute anyone are Missouri Gov. Jay Nixon, whose state tied Texas in 2014 for 
the most executions in the country, and Delaware Gov. Jack Markell, whose state 
had 2 executions in his first term in office. Markell, however, has said he 
would sign death penalty abolition legislation that was passed by the state???s 
senate, but stalled in the house, earlier this year.

Among other Democratic governors, 7 are running states with no death penalty, 
including 1 - Connecticut Gov. Dannel Malloy - who signed legislation ending 
the death penalty into law. The others are Hawaii Gov. David Ige, Minnesota 
Gov. Mark Dayton, New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo, Rhode Island Gov. Gina Raimondo, 
Vermont Gov. Peter Shumlin, and West Virginia Gov. Earl Ray Tomblin.

4 Democratic governors have put a moratorium on executions in place: Colorado 
Gov. John Hickenlooper; Oregon Gov. Kate Brown, who extended the previous 
governor's moratorium; Pennsylvania Gov. Tom Wolf; and Washington Gov. Jay 
Inslee.

Markell and 1 other governor, New Hampshire Gov. Maggie Hassan, said they would 
sign death penalty abolition legislation considered in their respective states 
this year, and a 3rd, California Gov. Jerry Brown has said he opposes the death 
penalty. Neither Hassan nor Brown have conducted any executions. Finally, no 
execution have taken place during the terms of Kentucky Gov. Steve Beshear or 
Montana Gov. Steve Bullock, and no executions are expected to be set during 
their time in office.

(source: BuzzFeedNews)






NORTH CAROLINA:

The power to kill


Colby Coash was a college freshman in Lincoln, Neb., in 1996 when friends 
talked him into going to the state penitentiary, where an execution was about 
to take place.

2 crowds were outside the prison - 1 in favor of the death penalty, the other 
opposing it. Without giving it much thought, he joined the death-penalty group.

A band was playing, there was a barbecue and a clock was counting down to 
midnight, when the electric chair would be turned on.

"I thought it was a New Year's party," Coash recounted in an interview in 
Greensboro Tuesday. "I didn't feel good about that experience."

Coash has been pro-life ever since. As a Catholic, he's against abortion - and 
the death penalty.

As a Nebraska state senator, and a Republican, he spearheaded a breakthrough 
accomplishment this year. That conservative state's single-chamber legislature 
passed a bill repealing the death penalty and then overrode the governor's 
veto. Coash pulled 16 to 17 Republican senators to his position by making 
conservative arguments against capital punishment, he said.

He was in Greensboro and Raleigh last week at the invitation of a group called 
North Carolina Conservatives Concerned about the Death Penalty. One of its 
leaders is Greensboro attorney Marshall Hurley, a former general counsel for 
the state Republican Party.

Coash was joined in Raleigh by state Rep. Jon Hardister, a Republican from 
Greensboro, who repeated his own reservations about the death penalty.

No one has any illusions about the position of North Carolina's legislature.

"Honestly, it will be hard to repeal the death penalty in North Carolina 
because the leadership in the House and Senate supports it," Hardister said 
Tuesday.

In fact, the legislature passed a bill intended to restart executions, which 
have been suspended since 2006. Among other features, the bill makes 
information about lethal-injection chemicals a state secret. That doesn't 
square with conservative values, according to Coash.

"A government that would hide that from you, what else would it hide? 
Conservatives believe in limiting the power of government," he said.

Coash was successful, where North Carolina death-penalty opponents have not 
been, in reshaping the debate. He called capital punishment a product of a 
"broken government. ... That narrative began to speak to people," he said. "We 
believe inefficient government is bad government."

Many North Carolina Republicans distrust "government schools," "government 
health care" and other government institutions - but trust government with the 
power to decide who should live or die. The results are inconsistent, or worse.

A year ago, Henry McCollum was released from prison after spending 30 years on 
North Carolina's death row for crimes, it was finally discovered, he did not 
commit. Last week in Guilford County, a man was sentenced to life in prison - 
not death - after pleading guilty to 2 counts of 1st-degree murder. He killed a 
father and 7-year-old son. The little boy had tried to hide in a bathroom 
closet during a home invasion. Decisions about who gets the death penalty and 
who doesn't seem to be entirely arbitrary.

Some of the 148 offenders on North Carolina's death row have been there for 
decades. Their appeals cost millions of dollars. So as a government spending 
issue, the death penalty is inefficient.

Nebraska isn't a liberal state that coddles criminals. Killers will serve life 
in prison without parole. It???s time for North Carolina conservatives to 
eliminate the inconsistency, expense and potentially fatal errors associated 
with capital punishment. Surely, our legislators are not so eager to resume the 
execution countdown that they can't consider the costs.

(source: Opinion, Greensboro News & Record)

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

State Bar says lawyer not guilty of professional misconduct


A State Bar disciplinary hearing committee on Friday cleared a defense attorney 
who worked on a historic Racial Justice Act case of professional misconduct 
allegations.

The Engel case has been carefully watched by attorneys across the state for the 
larger implications it could have on lawyers whose court documents include 
unintentional mistakes.

Some have described the bar complaint against Engel as politically motivated by 
prosecutors and others unhappy with the findings and rulings in a former death 
row inmate's successful challenge of his capital-punishment sentencing using 
the Racial Justice Act.

But it is unclear who filed the grievance against Engel because it was filed 
anonymously.

Lane Williamson, a lawyer from Charlotte who represented Engel at the bar 
hearing, argued before the ruling that the panel would set a dangerous 
precedent with a misconduct ruling. What happened, Williamson said, "was a 
mistake, an honest mistake made by a hard-working lawyer."

Mary Winstead, a former prosecutor with the state attorney general's office, 
argued that Engel's mistake was prejudicial to the administration of justice. 
She said that a sworn statement submitted by Engel inaccurately "carried the 
message that a prosecutor had discriminated in his question" and played a role 
in the outcome of the Racial Justice Act case. But the disciplinary panel 
disagreed with her.

The bar complaint focused on Engel's work with a team of lawyers who used the 
short-lived Racial Justice Act to convert a North Carolina death row inmate's 
sentence in 2012 to life without possibility for parole.

At issue was whether Engel violated professional codes of conduct in relaying 
information to the courts after interviewing 2 African-American men who were 
excluded from serving on the 1994 jury that decided the fate of Marcus Reymond 
Robinson.

Robinson, an African-American male, was sentenced to death for the 1991 killing 
of Erik Tornblum, a white teenager. In 2012, Judge Gregory Weeks issued a 
landmark ruling in Cumberland County Superior Court saying prosecutors across 
the state had engaged in deliberate and systematic racial discrimination when 
striking black potential jurors in death penalty cases.

Under the Racial Justice Act, which has since been overturned by the North 
Carolina legislature, Weeks was able to reduce the death sentence for Robinson 
to life in prison with no possibility for parole.

The State Bar has not brought any complaints against prosecutors, who also 
submitted sworn statements in the Robinson case that included inaccurate 
information.

"We're not saying, 'Oh, they ought to be charged as well,'" Williamson said in 
his closing statement to the disciplinary panel. "We're saying they made 
mistakes."

The bar complaint contended that Engel and Cassandra Stubbs, another lawyer on 
the Racial Justice Act case, included inaccurate information for the court to 
consider that ranged from a wrong address to a recollection from one of the 
potential jurors that did not jibe with the official trial transcript.

When Engel and Stubbs, a lawyer with the American Civil Liberties Union Capital 
Punishment Project, received notice of the allegations, they brought them to 
the attention of Weeks. The judge said in an order that the statements 
submitted by Engel and Stubbs had not played a role in his Robinson decision. 
In his ruling, he also mentioned mistakes made by prosecutors from 4 counties - 
Forsyth, Cumberland, Johnston and Wilson.

Stubbs took a different legal route from Engel in fighting the bar accusations 
against her. She was found guilty by a different bar disciplinary panel of 
professional misconduct. Stubbs was admonished, meaning the three-member panel 
that presided over her case found she committed a minor violation of the rules 
of professional conduct.

Stubbs, who was at the Engel hearing but left before the ruling, could appeal 
the decision in her case or ask for her panel to reconsider its finding in 
light of the Engel ruling.

(source: News & Observer)






GEORGIA:

Former high-ranking state officials join growing chorus asking for Gissendaner 
clemency


On Tuesday, the state will execute the only woman on death row in Georgia - 
Kelly Gissendaner.

She was sentenced to death in 1998 for recruiting her boyfriend to kill her 
husband, Doug.

The man who committed the murder is serving a life sentence.

Leading up to the execution, there have been vigils and rallies to get the 
state to spare her including a video from her own children asking for clemency.

Now, on Saturday, 2 influential voices are joining the chorus of those asking 
that she be allowed to live.

Former State Corrections Deputy Director Vanessa O'Donnell released a statement 
calling for mercy as did a former chief justice of the state supreme court - 
Norman Fletcher.

O'Donnell's statement said the following:

Kelly Gissendaner's execution is scheduled for Tuesday, September 29, 2015. I 
am a retired Georgia Department of Corrections Deputy Director and Warden, and 
I have requested that the Georgia Board of Pardons and Paroles grant Ms. 
Gissendaner clemency.

Although I understand the severity of her conviction, it seems appropriate in 
this case that the 17 years of isolation she has spent on death row warrants a 
commutation permitting her to spend the remainder of her life serving as an 
example to fellow inmates. She can provide hope to the most desperate female 
offender in a manner no one else could possibly understand.

As the only woman on death row, Ms. Gissendaner has been sequestered from other 
prisoners for most of her incarceration, and has been housed in a cell in our 
secure housing unit. I was her warden from 2001-2004 at Metro State Prison. For 
those three years her primary contact was the correctional officer assigned to 
the unit and the Inspection team which made daily contact. I got to know her 
during this period and found her to be polite and respectful in her interaction 
with the staff.

Although Ms. Gissendaner rarely had physical contact with other inmates when I 
was the Warden, she was able to provide support and inspiration with her strong 
and kind words to those housed on the secure unit. The maximum security housing 
unit in any prison houses inmates who are disruptive in the prison, inmates who 
have fought with staff and other inmates, and often inmates whose mental health 
causes them to behave in ways that pose a danger to other inmates and staff. In 
addition to these inmates, the women's prison placed juveniles on the maximum 
security housing as it was one of the units in the prison that permitted less 
physical interaction among prisoners thus providing them with a level of 
protection that was superior to other areas of the prison.

Corrections officers, volunteer staff, other inmates, and juveniles who have 
visited Ms. Gissendaner through prison programs attest to the work that she has 
been able to achieve in prison despite her solitary conditions of confinement. 
She has reached out to other inmates at their lowest ebb of despair and helped 
them to recognize their worth and to see a path out of prison. Her ability to 
reach these inmates and provide them with the will to reform and excel has been 
repeatedly exhibited. This in turn provides a great service to the DOC as it 
increases the safety of the institution while helping inmates to leave the 
confines of the DOC permanently.

Georgia has recently been recognized as a state on the forefront of prison 
reform. These accolades are deserved. Governor Deal has made reform a central 
tenet of his policy, providing support and resources to the DOC to ensure their 
success. The ultimate goal of prison reform is to magnify the chance for all 
inmates to leave prison with the tools necessary to lead productive and 
fulfilling lives. Ms. Gissendaner, through her dedicated efforts to better 
herself and in turn assist in the support of other inmates and juveniles who 
visit our prisons, has shown herself to be a great benefit to those who are 
working to see that the reform movement continues to succeed.

>From a corrections standpoint, Ms. Gissendaner's execution would serve no 
significant penological interest. As her prison record illustrates, and as many 
staff members and administrators over nearly 2 decades of incarceration attest, 
Ms. Gissendaner has proven to be an asset to the institutions where she has 
been incarcerated. This reason alone should give serious pause to those 
empowered with the authority of whether to extend mercy in Ms. Gissendaner's 
case. Additionally, the children of the victim, Douglas Gissendaner, Jr., who 
are also the children of Kelly Gissendaner, are united in their wish to see 
their mother's life spared.

Ms. Gissendaner's exceptional prison adjustment, her role in the crime as 
compared with her co-defendant who is serving a life sentence, her remorse, and 
the pleas of the Gissendaner children all signal the compelling need for mercy 
in this case.

Fletcher, echoing the overall sentiment, said the punishment is not 
proportional to the crime in the following statement:

Kelly Gissendaner is scheduled to be executed September 29, 2015, for her role 
in the murder of her husband, Douglas Gissendaner. No matter where one stands 
on the propriety of the death penalty generally, it is abundantly clear to me 
that Ms. Gissendaner should not be put to death.

Since retiring from the Supreme Court of the State of Georgia, I have come to 
the conclusion that the death penalty is not an appropriate form of punishment. 
But these beliefs do not form the basis of my conviction that Ms. Gissendaner's 
life should be spared.

Rather, that judgment rests upon the disproportionate nature of Ms. 
Gissendaner's sentence when compared to that of her co-defendant, Gregory Owen, 
who actually stabbed Douglas Gissendaner to death. Mr. Owen will be eligible 
for parole in 7 years. Ms. Gissendaner was not present when Mr. Gissendaner was 
killed, but she is scheduled to be executed in less than a week.

As the Supreme Court has held, the death penalty is constitutional only to the 
extent that it is proportional. The principle of proportionality review is 
deeply rooted in our legal system, with the fundamental goal of ensuring that 
the death penalty is not arbitrarily applied. It is especially appropriate to 
consider proportionality when evaluating cases in which one defendant who is 
more culpable than another is given a sentence of less than death, while the 
latter is given the ultimate punishment.

When this issue came before me as a justice, I joined in the ruling against Ms. 
Gissendaner. As part of that opinion, we concluded that her sentence was 
proportionate to her role in the crime. I was wrong. In addition, the process 
we used at the time to conduct proportionality review was deeply flawed, as 
outlined in an AJC series of articles in 2007.

While Ms. Gissendaner's sentence was wrong on the day that it was imposed, it 
is impossible to ignore her work as a true minister of mercy during her years 
on death row. I am profoundly moved by the testimony of former and current 
prisoners, prison guards and officials, prison volunteers, and chaplains who 
have borne witness to the goodwill, hope, and example that she has provided for 
dozens of inmates in desperate need. She serves as a shining example of her 
faith, which is the product of her own remorse and devotion, and also a 
testament to the tremendous success of the reforms we have made in our prison 
system.

The State of Georgia has not executed a person who did not commit the actual 
killing since the death penalty was reinstated in 1976. There is a reason for 
this. Kelly Gissendaner should not be the 1st.

(source: 11alive.news)

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

Forgiving Kelly Gissendaner: A condemned killer's purported reformation


On March 2, Dakota Brookshire thought his mother was going to die.

"Today, I got to see my mom for the last time," he wrote to friends on 
Facebook. "Telling her bye was without a doubt the hardest thing I have ever 
done."

The mother was Kelly Gissendaner, Georgia's only woman on death row, who, 
before a last-minute cancellation, was scheduled to be executed at 7 p.m. that 
day.

Her crime: She had her lover stab and beat her husband, Doug Gissendaner, to 
death in a field off Luke Edwards Road in Gwinnett County. The victim, a Desert 
Storm veteran recalled as "God-fearing family man," was Brookshire's stepfather 
but treated him as his own son when the child's biological father died of 
cancer.

While his mother was irresponsible in those years and drifted aimlessly through 
life, her husband gave Brookshire stability and love.

Now, Brookshire believes his mother will die at 7 p.m. Tuesday, the rescheduled 
date of execution. Again, he doesn't want it to happen.

How could he forgive her?

The answer, it appears, is faith.

Faith that Doug Gissendaner was a good enough man that he wouldn't want even 
the woman who set his death in motion to die.

Faith, perhaps most of all, that the mother has changed and become a godly 
woman who is ashamed and devastated by her sins.

To understand how the son might come to these conclusions - and what he had to 
overcome to reach them - it is helpful to follow Kelly Gissendaner back to the 
beginning of the case.

As testimony detailed at the trial, the wife went drinking with friends on Feb. 
7, 1997 while her lover, Greg Owen, abducted and killed her husband.

The Gissendaners' relationship was troubled long before that night.

They married for the 1st time in 1989, soon having a daughter, Kayla, and 
falling on hard financial times. They moved in with Kelly's mother. Kelly 
argued with her husband and got mad when he didn't argue back.

They divorced in 1993 after Doug joined the Army.

Kelly soon joined the Army herself and got pregnant with Dakota.

In May 1995, after Dakota's father died, Kelly remarried Doug.

They filed for a separation 4 months later, about the same time Owen came into 
the picture. As with Doug, Kelly had an on-again, off-again relationship with 
Owen.

Her troubles with love, records and statements filed in court suggest, stem 
from abuse she suffered at the hands of men in her life from a very early age, 
including multiple incidents of molestation and rape.

One court filing describes a mental defense she has used throughout life to 
block out approaching memories such trauma: She imagines herself in a white and 
airy room or, sometimes, a field of flowers.

"There is always a door that can be closed and locked," the filing says. "The 
room is a 'peaceful place: no music, no talking - just quiet.'"

The same document, filed by the inmate's legal team, suggests the torment she 
endured corrupted her so much emotionally that she preferred Owen to her 
husband because Owen was abusive.

Things with Doug seemed to go too well.

It's hard to pinpoint when Kelly Gissendaner began to change, if you believe 
the many people who say she has, including former Georgia Supreme Court Chief 
Justice Norman Fletcher, who spoke out for her Saturday. Best guesses are that 
it was a gradual shift after she was convicted in 1998 and received the death 
sentence as Owen went away for life - and the possibility of parole by 2023 - 
thanks to his testimony.

Jenny McBride, a religion professor who knows Gissendaner from her days working 
in Georgia prisons, said she believes Gissendaner's change began early on, 
perhaps in the 1st year. In that time, the inmate started meeting with a pastor 
who still serves her today.

"The pastor was there to love her," McBride said, declining to reveal their 
identity. "Part of that love is to ask difficult questions and to get Kelly to 
face what she's done."

Another help was Gissendaner's theological studies, which began in earnest at 
Metro State Prison, according to several friends.

Kara Stephenson, now 38, met her at the south Atlanta prison, before it closed 
in 2011. Stephenson ended up there around 2002 after an armed robbery 
conviction and remembers the condemned killer for her kindness and distinctive 
chuckle.

"I was in prison for 10 years and I never seen Kelly be anything like what her 
crime was," she said.

That is, nothing like a murderer. To the contrary, Stephenson said, Gissendaner 
saved her life.

It happened one night near the end of Stephenson's sentence. She said she was 
terrified to go home and return to the fractured life she'd left. She threw a 
fit, fighting with guards and screaming. They put her in lockdown, near 
Gissendaner's permanent cell there.

"Why are you scared to go home?" she recalls the condemned woman asking. 
Stephenson told her she wanted to kill herself.

Other prisoners overheard and yelled for her to just do it; Gissendaner quoted 
scripture and convinced not to.

To hear Gissendaner's supporters tell it, this wasn't an isolated incident. 
Several others tell similar stories.

Nikki Roberts, also convicted of robbery, said she slit her wrist in 2007 and 
soon heard a calming voice through the air vent in her lockdown cell: "Don't 
you dare wish death on yourself," Gissendaner said.

"Roberts got out of prison almost a year ago. "I love life and I have hope," 
she said.

For the retired Georgia Supreme Court justice, these stories show that 
Gissendaner should be spared.

"While Ms. Gissendaner's sentence was wrong on the day that it was imposed, it 
is impossible to ignore her work as a true minister of mercy during her years 
on death row," he said in an emailed statement, in which he also said he was 
wrong in a previous ruling upholding Gissendaner's death sentence because it 
wasn't proportional to her lover's sentence.

The stories also appear important to Dakota's forgiveness of his mother. He 
talked about them in a recent videotaped statement, asking the state of Georgia 
for mercy.

"She's saved people's lives," he said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Gissendaner's children went to live with their maternal grandmother after she 
went away.

Brandon, the eldest son, hasn't spoken publicly about his relationship with his 
mother, though Kayla said in the video that all 3 kids want her to live.

Dakota and Kayla each took years to reconcile with their mother.

The children and inmate haven't given interviews on the subject and, according 
to Gissendaner's attorney, won't ahead of the execution. But the children's 
public statements offer a glimpse into the difficulty they've had accepting the 
situation their mother created.

"As a young child I could not grasp why my father had been taken from me. As my 
awareness grew, so did my anger toward my mother," the daughter said in a 
statement posted on a website for her mother.

Kayla stopped visiting the prison after enrolling in college around 2008.

Her mother reached out for a year before Kayla decided she had ask her about 
the murder. They had never talked about it before.

"It was hard for both of us, but she told me the terrible truth. As painful as 
that was, I realized then that I wanted to try to have a relationship with her 
again," the daughter said.

Kayla convinced Dakota visit the mother after a 7-year break.

"Something had changed," he recalled in the video. "She said, 'Ya know, I'm not 
asking for your forgiveness. I'm not asking you to love me, because if it was 
me I don't think I could forgive myself.'"

The children's forgiveness has won Gissendaner favor with many onlookers.

It has not, however, swayed many others, including Gwinnett County District 
Attorney Danny Porter.

"I don't have any reason to doubt that they're sincere, but I'm not sure 
they're the ones that are in the position to grant forgiveness," Porter said 
this week of the children. "Kelly arranged for them to be raised by her mother. 
In other words, she put them in the same environment that created her. She did 
that on purpose."

According to Porter, the more "aggrieved party" and "harmed" in the case is 
Doug Gissendaner's family, who lost their son and their grandchildren.

The victim's family has remained largely silent in the case recently, except 
for 2 statements sent to the media from the DA's office. The 1st thanked the 
law enforcement workers and others who helped them through their time of 
sorrow; the 2nd came on March 4, 2 days after an issue with lethal injection 
drugs halted the last execution.

At the time, people from around the world, who had been fighting to save the 
inmate, were rejoicing.

The victim's family was not.

"Doug is the true victim of this pre-meditated and heinous crime," their 
statement said. "We, along with our friends and supporters and our faith, will 
continue fighting for Doug until he gets the justice he deserves no matter how 
long it takes."

The DA plans to see Gissendaner's death carried out. It will be the drd 
execution he's witnessed in his more than 20 years in office.

The 1st inmate was Tracy Lee Housel, who met the state's needle on March 12, 
2002, for strangling and viciously beating a woman he met at a Lawrenceville 
truck stop in 1985. The 2nd was James Willie Brown, who was put to death on 
Nov. 4, 2003, for the 1975 murder of a topless dancer he suffocated with her 
own panties.

If Porter's experience is an indication, Gissendaner's death will happen 
something like the others:

The witnesses sit on benches in a dimly lit room, "like a movie theater," and 
peer through glass at the condemned inmate on a gurney as the drugs seep in. 
"Usually, they yawn once or twice," Porter said, "and then they snore, and then 
they die."

You can tell they're dead when the color drains from their face.

As Housel and Brown slipped out of life, Porter had a thought he expects to be 
repeated with Gissendaner: They got off a lot easier than the victim.

Dakota and Kayla might have a familiar experience Tuesday night, too. Just as 
on the mother's last death date, they are likely to be waiting for the news 
that she is gone, that they've lost their last parent.

(source: Gwinnett Daily Post)

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

Questions remain on cloudy drug, even as new execution looms


In late March, William King placed a vial of pentobarbital in a refrigerator at 
the state prison in Jackson and dutifully logged the temperature at 34 degrees. 
Earlier that same month, the execution of the only woman on Georgia's death row 
had been halted abruptly after prison officials noticed that the drug that was 
supposed to stop her breathing appeared cloudy.

Now King - an investigator with the state Department of Corrections - was 
attempting to prove a theory: that the lethal barbiturate took on a clumpy, 
opaque quality because it had been stored in the cold. The experiment was a 
bust. 11 days after the vial was chilled, records show, the drug remained 
crystal clear.

As the state again prepares to execute Kelly Gissendaner on Tuesday they still 
cannot explain with certainty what was wrong with the drug that put the brakes 
on her execution earlier this year. State officials maintain the cold 
temperature caused the drug to separate as it did. But death penalty opponents 
contend that's little more than an unproven theory. What would have happened if 
it was used on Gissendaner is also an open question.

It's a puzzle that worries some, especially as Georgia prepares to ramp up 
executions this fall. As many as 8 condemned inmates could have their execution 
dates set over the next year or so.

"It gives me great pause," said Norman Fletcher, a former chief justice for 
Georgia's highest court who recently came out in opposition to the death 
penalty.

"No one really knows what happened, or what could have happened, and that does 
concern me very much."

Gwinnett County District Attorney Danny Porter has no such concerns.

"The drugs are perfectly effective for their purpose," said Porter, who 
successfully convinced a jury to sentence Gissendaner to death. "What did the 
Supreme Court say? No death is painless? The drugs are perfectly adequate in 
the way they are administered and for the purpose they are intended."

The death sentence, if it's carried out, will signal that Georgia's capital 
punishment machine is kicking into high gear after an 8-month hiatus. 
Gissendaner could be the 1st of 5 - and possibly as many as 8 executions - in 
the coming months. According to the state attorney general's office, 4 other 
condemned inmates are soon to be execution eligible. 3 more inmates could be 
added to the list if the U.S. Supreme Court declines to hear their appeals 
after the new term begins on Oct. 1.

That accelerated pace would come even as some states have moved away from 
capital punishment - some with unofficial moratoriums as they sort out drug 
supply and other issues. Currently, 31 states still have capital punishment 
laws on the books. The number of executions nationally has dropped or held 
steady every year since 2009.

Lauren Sudeal Lucas, who is on the board of the Southern Center for Human 
Rights and a law professor at Georgia State University, said she isn't 
surprised that Georgia is moving to swiftly resume executions, bucking the 
national trend.

"I have heard they are planning to set dates for all the people mentioned," 
Lucas said. "It marches on regardless."

THE "MOST LIKELY" CAUSE

Gissendaner was already in a holding area near the death chamber at the Georgia 
Diagnostic and Classification Prison on March 2 when prison officials noticed 
something was amiss with the syringe of pentobarbital. Several hours passed 
while they decided what to do.

Late that night, a Department of Corrections spokeswoman told reporters only 
that the drug appeared cloudy and Gissendaner's lethal injection was called off 
in "an abundance of caution."

6 weeks later, they released a video showing the suspect syringe. In it, chunks 
of a white solid material floated in the solution.

They also released documents. Among them was an affidavit from University of 
Georgia pharmacy professor Jason Zastre who wrote that "there is no evidence 
that the solution was adulterated." Instead, Zastre wrote, it was "most likely" 
that the drug was shipped and stored at a temperature that was too low - 37 
degrees over seven days. The drug manufacturer advises that the solution should 
be stored at a controlled room temperature not less than 59 degrees, he said.

But Zastre also provided an alternate explanation, the solvent and the powder 
form of the drug separated because it was not properly mixed.

By that time, King had already conducted his experiment, which showed no change 
in drugs stored in a refrigerator. In a log that covered 9 of the 11 days, he 
recorded the temperature and remarked that the solution was clear.

Still, the state has stood by the claim that the cold temperature was to blame 
and, in an opinion issued last month, the U.S. District Court for the Northern 
District of Georgia dismissed a challenge from Gissendaner's team, clearing the 
way for the state to proceed on Tuesday.

Georgia Attorney General Sam Olens declined an interview request from The 
Atlanta Journal-Constitution because the case is ongoing. A spokesman pointed 
the newspaper to the state's legal filings.

Bob Keller, who was Clayton County's district attorney for nearly 3 decades 
before serving on the state parole board, said it wasn't unusual for 
Gissendaner's lawyer to key in on the drug problem since it was new.

"The cloudy drug, the refusal to disclose who is doing those things, those 
things are unique and can be litigated. But once those issues are cleared, it's 
cleared for everybody so you don't have anything unique," Keller said of 
last-minute appeals.

A SCRAMBLE FOR DRUGS

To understand how perilous the stakes are for officials weighing what to do 
about the drugs in the Gissendaner case, it???s important to look back 5 years 
or so. As political pressure mounted from anti-death penalty forces, the supply 
of lethal injection drugs nationwide began to evaporate. Georgia and other 
capital punishment states hunted for drugs far and wide. Georgia once bought 
lethal injection drugs from a London pharmacy that shared an office with a 
driving school. That resulted in a raid by the U.S. Drug Enforcement 
Administration. The DEA said the state lacked a license to import the drug, 
which was at the time part of a 3-drug lethal injection cocktail.

Georgia eventually followed the lead of other states in turning to 
pentobarbital, which had been used for years to euthanize animals.

But again, protests led drug companies worldwide to refuse to supply the drug 
for executions. Last year, Georgia began to use a compounding pharmacist to 
assemble the drug themselves so it would have a ready supply.

So far, there have been no high-profile complications with pentobarbital. But 
other drugs have been blamed for botched executions elsewhere. In Ohio, Dennis 
McGuire snorted, gasped for air and appeared to struggle as the lethal 
injection drugs hydromorphone and midazolam took effect. Clayton Locket 
writhed, clenched his teeth and strained to lift his head when Oklahoma 
attempted to put him to death using a t3 drug-cocktail in April. Locket died 43 
minutes later of a heart attack. And in Arizona, Joseph Wood gasped for an hour 
and 40 minutes before he was pronounced dead of a 2-drug cocktail, midazolam 
and hydromorphone. Arizona officials said Wood was only snoring loudly.

IT'S A SECRET

In the Gissendaner case, the pharmacist who assembled the drug was the 1st to 
suggest the cold storage caused the cloudiness.

Who is that pharmacist? The state of Georgia won't say. Nor will they provide 
information on the pharmacist's credentials.

Though compounded pharmacists are licensed, their work does not receive the 
same oversight as drug manufacturers. The Food and Drug Administration does not 
approve compounded drugs because they are mixed one batch at a time for one, 
specific purpose. Compounding pharmacies can be accredited but it isn't 
required.

Questions about the pharmacists are among the many facts surrounding the 
execution process that the state keeps shrouded in secrecy.

A law adopted in 2013 specifically prohibits the state from divulging the 
manufacturer of the lethal drugs as well as the identities of those directly 
involved in the execution process. It's designed to prevent intimidation, 
supporters say. But state officials have said the spirit of the law allows them 
to withhold other information as well, such as the quality standards in 
production, when the state acquired the drugs or the credentials of those 
involved.

Those who argue for more transparency say that effectively abolishes 
accountability in what is the greatest exercise of power the state may exert.

Nonetheless, the state's highest court last May upheld the secrecy law by a 5-2 
vote. That decision by the Georgia Supreme Court was similar to rulings in 
other states who have backed secrecy laws.

"I DON'T DESERVE TO DIE"

On Monday morning, Gissendaner's lawyers will appear before a federal district 
court judge to make a last-ditch plea to delay the death sentence. The state 
Board of Pardons and Parole turned down Gissendaner's clemency appeal earlier 
this year.

She was convicted of conspiring with her lover to kill her husband, Douglas 
Gissendaner, in 1997.

That Gissendaner is a woman has certainly led to heightened curiosity about her 
case. Women remain a rarity on death row. Nationally, she is 1 of just 56 - 
less than 2 % of the overall death-row population.

But there are other unique elements to her story as well. Gissender was 
sentenced to die by a Gwinnett County jury even though she wasn't even present 
when her husband was knocked unconscious with nightstick and then repeatedly 
stabbed in the neck.

Gregory Owen, who pleaded guilty to the brutal slaying, was sentenced to life 
in prison with the possibility of parole after serving 25 years.

It is exceedingly rare for those who didn't actually commit a murder to be 
executed. Out of 1,414 murderers executed since the 1970s, only 5 were 
co-conspirators like her, according to an Atlanta Journal-Constitution analysis 
of death penalty records.

Additionally, Gissendaner's apparent conversion behind bars to a deeply 
religious mentor for other inmates has attracted a robust crowd of supporters 
to her cause. A number of religious groups are urging the state to reconsider 
the decision to execute her. Some of her most passionate supporters include a 
loose-knit group of former women inmates who credit Gissendaner with helping 
them move on to productive lives. 2 of Gissendaner's 3 children have filmed an 
emotional video pleading with the state not to take away their remaining 
parent.

But the parents of the husband she had killed remain staunch supporters of her 
execution.

Porter said that Gissendaner may not have wielded the knife, but she was the 
instigator. She spent the night of the murder at a bar with friends while Owen 
waited for Douglas at the Gissendaner house. She gave Owen a night stick and a 
hunting knife, Porter said.

Gissendaner's lawyers and prison officials declined to make her available to 
the AJC.

But in a 2004 interview with the newspaper she made her thoughts on the matter 
clear: "I deserve to be here," she said. "But I don't deserve to die."

What the State Won't Say

A 2013 Georgia law requires the state to shield information related to the 
execution process, including most information about letal injection drugs. Some 
of the things Georgia officials can now keep secret include:

--The identity of the drug manufacturer of lethal drugs

--The date the drug was purchased

--The date the drug expires

--The identity of the compounding pharmacist who mixes the drug

--The names of medical officials overseeing the execution

--Quality control reports related to the drug

THE NEXT TO DIE

4 death row inmates have exhausted most of their legal appeals and are waiting 
for an execution date to be set:

Marcus Ray Johnson: Sentenced to die for the 1994 murder of Angela Sizemore in 
Dougherty County. A judge stayed his execution scheduled for October 2011 to 
allow time for testing of newly-discovered DNA evidence.

Brian Keith Terrell: Sentenced to die in Newton County for the 1992 murder of 
John Henry Watson, a friend of Terrell's mother. His execution that was set for 
March 10 was called off because the state wanted to determine the problem with 
the execution drug that was acquired for Gissendaner's execution.

Travis Hittson: Enlisted in the Navy and was sentenced to die in Houston County 
for the 1992 murder and dismemberment of shipmate Conway Utterbeck.

Joshua Daniel Bishop: Sentenced to die for the 1998 beating death in Baldwin 
County of Leverett Morrison because Morrison would not turn over the keys to 
his Jeep.

3 inmates are awaiting final appeals pending before the U.S. Supreme Court:

Kenneth Fults: Sentenced to die for the 1996 murder in Spalding County of Cathy 
Bounds, who was shot 5 times in the back of her head. The U.S. Supreme Court is 
considering whether to hear his appeal alleging that one of the jurors in his 
case was racist.

Daniel Joseph Lucas: Sentenced to die for the 1998 murders of 3 members of a 
Jones County family. His co-defendant, Brandon Joseph Rhodes, was executed for 
the crime in 2010.

Brandon Astor Jones: Sentenced to die in the 1979 robbery and murder of Roger 
Tackett, a 30-year-old teacher who was working a 2nd job managing a gas 
station. His co-defendant, Van Roosevelt Solomon, was executed on Feb. 20, 
1985, but Jones was granted a new trial because there was Bible in the jury 
room during deliberations.

(source: Atlanta Journal-Constitution)






FLORIDA:

Unanimous juries sought in death-penalty cases


If a unanimous jury vote should be needed to impose the death penalty, as a new 
Florida Senate bill now proposes, seven out of 10 of the most heinous killers 
to face trial in Lake County would have never landed on death row.

Despite their vicious crimes, between 1 and 4 members of these murderers' 
12-person juries couldn't vote to recommend the death penalty - despite finding 
them guilty.

Under current law, a simple majority of a jury is needed to recommend that a 
defendant receive the death penalty. Sen. Thad Altman, R-Rockledge, wants to 
establish the higher standard of a unanimous jury vote with Senate Bill 330 
filed this week.

The bill would also give direction to judges on some jury instructions in 
death-penalty cases. Those instructions deal with what are known as 
"aggravating circumstances," which are factors used to support death-penalty 
recommendations. The bill, in part, would require aggravating circumstances to 
be proven beyond a reasonable doubt and be subject to a unanimous vote.

The bill - an identical measure (HB 157) has already been filed in - would only 
apply to sentencing proceedings that begin after July 1, 2016. Similar efforts 
have failed in prior legislative sessions.

However, this year's proposal comes as the U.S. Supreme Court is scheduled to 
hear arguments Oct. 13 in a case that challenges the way Florida sentences 
people to death. The case stems from the 1998 murder of an Escambia County 
fast-food worker, and attorneys representing death row inmate Timothy Lee Hurst 
contend that Florida's unique sentencing system is unconstitutional.

The attorneys argue, in part, that a 2002 U.S. Supreme Court ruling requires 
that determination of aggravating circumstances be "entrusted" to juries, not 
to judges. Also, they take issue with Florida not requiring unanimous jury 
recommendations in death-penalty cases. A judge sentenced Hurst to death after 
receiving a 7-5 jury recommendation.

Here are the 7 cases in Lake and Sumter where some jurors couldn't bring 
themselves to recommend a sentence of death:

J.P "Pig" Parker was convicted of robbing and kidnapping a convenience store 
clerk in Stuart in 1982, stabbing the woman so she fell to her knees, then 
shooting her execution-style in the back of the head. His take from the store 
was about $30. The case was moved to Lake County because of intense press 
coverage, with the death-penalty vote coming in at 11-1.

Allen Cox was already serving several life sentences for kidnapping, sexual 
battery and aggravated battery when someone stole $500 from him at Lake 
Correctional Institution in 1998. He used a prison shank to stab a suspect 3 
times, causing the man to bleed to death. Cox also beat up the man's cellmate. 
His death-penalty vote was 10-2.

Guy Gamble told his girlfriend he was going to kill his landlord 6 days before 
repeatedly hitting the man in the head with a claw hammer in 1991. He then 
stole the man's car and took his girlfriend out to a restaurant for dinner. 
Gamble's death-penalty vote was 10-2.

Jason Wheeler ambushed and killed a Lake County sheriff's deputy responding to 
a domestic call at his Paisley residence in 2005. 2 other deputies also were 
shot. Wheeler's death-penalty vote was 10-2.

Donte Hall burst into a house filled with female strippers, robbing and opening 
fire on the male guests before killing 2 of them with an AK-47 assault rifle in 
2006. His death-penalty vote was 8-4.

Donald Williams helped an 81-year-old woman shop for groceries in a motorized 
wheelchair then robbed and kidnapped her from the supermarket's parking lot in 
2010. Her body was found in the woods several days later. His death-penalty 
vote was 9-3.

James Duckett, a Mascotte police officer in 1987, was convicted of raping and 
killing an 11-year-old girl and tossing her body in a local lake. At his trial, 
3 other girls said he had made sexual advances toward them. His death 
penalty-vote was 8-4.

(source: Daiy Commercial)

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

Judge denies Toledo's request for delay


A judge has denied a request by attorneys for Luis Toledo, who is accused of 
killing his wife and her 2 children, to stay his case until the U.S. Supreme 
Court reviews Florida's death penalty.

Toledo, 33, is charged with 2nd-degree murder in the slaying of his wife, 
Yessenia Suarez, 28, and 2 counts of 1st-degree murder in the killing of her 
children, Thalia, 9, and Michael, 8. The mother and children were reported 
missing by the children's grandmother on Oct. 23, 2013. Their bodies have not 
been found. The case is scheduled to go to trial next year.

Defense attorney Jeff Deen asked Circuit Judge Raul Zambrano to delay the 
proceedings until the U.S. Supreme Court rules on the constitutionality of 
Florida's death penalty. Florida is 1 of only 2 states with the death penalty 
that does not require a unanimous recommendation from a jury for a judge to 
impose a death sentence. The other state, Alabama, requires a super-majority of 
10-2 but Florida requires only a majority of jurors, 7 to 5.

Zambrano issued a ruling on Friday in which he wrote that granting a stay based 
on what may or may not happen would require him to infer outcomes for Toledo's 
case and in the case of Hurst v. Florida, which is the one before the Supreme 
Court. Zambrano also said he would have to assume that the outcome in the Hurst 
case would be the final outcome, but that's unlikely since "the death penalty 
is constantly under constitutional scrutiny."

Zambrano also wrote that the "premise of the request is an uncertain stacking 
of hypothetical outcomes."

(source: Pensacola News Journal)