[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----ARK., NEB., USA

[Rick Halperin]

April 19



ARKANSAS:

Lawmakers call for removal of Pulaski County judge after 2nd death-penalty 
protest



At least 2 lawmakers are calling for the removal of a Pulaski County judge 
after he publicly protested against the death penalty for the 2nd time.

Circuit Judge Wendell Griffen again lay motionless as he strapped himself to a 
cot Tuesday evening outside the Governor's Mansion.

In a statement, state Sen. Trent Garner, R-El Dorado, called the protest a 
"pathetic and depressing display."

"He has disgraced the office that he holds for years and now is using a 
desperate, attention seeking move to further bring shame on himself," Garner 
wrote.

State Rep. Bob Ballinger, R-Berryville, agreed in a Wednesday morning post on 
Twitter.

"It is time for #ARLeg to move to impeach Judge Wendell Griffen. Our justice 
system must be fair and impartial, and is no place for activism," Ballinger 
said.

Griffen was barred by the Arkansas Supreme Court from hearing capital 
punishment cases after he rallied against the death penalty on Good Friday last 
year.

"We are still killing," the judge told onlookers Tuesday when asked why he 
returned.

Griffen has sued the state's Supreme Court justices, accusing them of violating 
his constitutional rights. A federal judge dismissed the high court itself but 
allowed proceedings against its 7 justices to continue.

Meanwhile, Griffen's attorney, Michael Laux, argued that the judge "has the 
constitutional right to do this, and we will prove it, if need be."

"Whether praying or protesting - it doesn't matter. Both are protected under 
the First Amendment," Laux said.

(source: Arkanas Online)








NEBRASKA:

Facing likely death sentence, prison murderer will tell judges he won't 
challenge execution



Patrick Schroeder doesn't disagree with the state's plans to sentence him to 
death.

"When I knew that they were going to be charging me with the death penalty, I 
knew what my choices were," Schroeder told NET News. "I knew what I was going 
to do."

He's not going to put up a fight.

Schroeder strangled his cellmate at the Tecumseh Correctional Institution on 
April 15, 2017, and made his confession before Terry Berry, Jr. died, never 
coming out of a coma.

One year later Schroeder is scheduled to appear in the Johnson County 
courthouse before a panel of 3 Nebraska district court judges who will 
determine if the inmate meets the legal qualification for death by lethal 
injection.

Last fall Schroeder made the extraordinary decision to proceed with the 
remainder of the legal proceedings without the state-appointed lawyers prepared 
to defend him. At one point the attorneys advanced a motion to declare 
Nebraska's death penalty process unconstitutional. Schroder shut down that 
effort and waived his right to an attorney in future proceedings.

NET News reviewed all executions conducted in Nebraska since statehood and 
found no other case in which the accused voluntarily dropped any impediment to 
proceeding with the death penalty before the sentence was even pronounced.

The case began in 2006 when Schroder murdered 75-year-old Kenny Albers, a 
Pawnee City farmer who had once given him a job. An Otoe County jury sentenced 
Schroeder to life in prison.

With the Tecumseh prison chronically overcrowded, Schroeder was not given his 
own cell in the Special Management Unit. Five days after Berry moved into the 
cell Schroeder attacked him.

Bill Kelly of NET News recorded 2 phone calls with Schroeder who wanted an 
opportunity to explain why he was not challenging a possible death sentence.

(Note: The transcript below has been edited for length and in some cases some 
answers were combined to create a clear sequence of events. Copyright 2018 NET 
News.)

Bill Kelly (NET News): You entered the guilty plea for the murder of your 
cellmate and you told the ourt you don't want lawyers to represent you even 
during this coming hearing, even though you might be sentenced to death. Why 
did you do that?

Patrick Schroeder: Well, I had plead guilty to it because I'm taking 
responsibility for my actions and it was kind of obvious that I'm the one that 
did it. As far as the reason for firing my attorneys, the way I want to go 
about doing it and the way they would have to go about doing it, it's 2 
different ways.

They're obligated to give me their best defense and, I guess, I don't want them 
to sit there and start making excuses for reasons (that I killed Terry Berry). 
I did what I did. I'm taking responsibility for my actions. I don't want some 
lawyer telling the courts that, "Well, he did it for this reason or that 
reason." I'm not going to go through that.

Kelly: That does mean that you're facing the death penalty at this point.

Schroeder: Yes, it does.

Kelly: You've really thought through that?

Schroeder: From day one, when I knew that they were going to be charging me 
with the death penalty, I knew what my choices were, I knew what I was going to 
do. That's just like on my first case with the Kenny Albers case. The first 
time the cops come talk to me, I explained everything to them, I'm not going to 
lie to them (See editor???s note below). I take responsibility for my actions. 
I knew what I was doing.

Kelly: Can you talk about what happened in your cell that day?

Schroeder: I got tired of him. You got to kind of, I guess, back up a little 
bit on that. These cells are 12 by 10. I've got a case of OCD. I don't do well 
with cellies (cellmates) to begin with, it's too small of an area. In 
segregation, which is where we were at when it happened, you're locked down 23 
hours a day. They never asked me if I wanted a celly, they never made me aware 
of it until they brought him in. I'm doing a life sentence, I'm never getting 
out, and he's in here for writing some checks. There was no compatibility at 
all.

Kelly: Did you think at some point in time you were going to kill him kind of 
regardless of what the scenario was going to be? Did you just see it heading in 
that direction?

Schroeder: Honestly, I knew as soon as they moved him in my room on April 10 
that it was probably going to end up in that situation, yes.

Kelly: Did you warn Terry Berry that he might be killed?

Schroeder: I told him on 2 different occasions, "You need to figure out a way 
to get outta here or something bad's going to happen to you." Then on another 
occasion I explained to him, "Hey, this isn't going to end well for you."

Kelly: Would this have been a risk for anybody who was put with you?

Schroeder: Not necessarily. If somebody I know, somebody that knows how to do 
time, that was the main issue with him is he didn't know how to do time. I've 
been down for 12 years and you put somebody in that don't know how to do time, 
that's childish, and don't know how to act right, it's a disaster. If it 
would've been somebody I knew, like I said, that knew how to do time, it'd have 
been a whole different story.

Kelly: The prosecuting attorney mentioned that it was a television program 
(Terry Berry) was talking about that set you off. Is that your memory?

Schroeder: Well, it wasn't so much a television show that set it off. We were 
watching UFC (Ultimate Fighting Championship mixed martial arts) and he just 
kept talking, and talking, and wouldn't shut up. I told him, I said, "I'm going 
to put you in a rear naked choke hold if you don't shut up." That's exactly 
what I ended up doing. He said something, I can't even recall what it was, and 
I just snapped, and kind of put him in a choke hold, and I held him in a choke 
hold until my arm got tired, then I wrapped a towel around his neck. That's 
basically what happened.

Kelly: There are going to be people who are going to hear this and say, "If 
somebody's a bad roommate, they still don't deserve to die."

Schroeder: And they're right, they don't, but that was the step that I took. 
That was the decision that I chose to take. I'm me, I made the decision. That's 
one of the reasons I took responsibility for my actions and pled guilty instead 
of dragging it out and have 12 people from society (a jury) come in and have to 
go through something that they didn't have to go through, didn't need to go 
through. It was a decision I made.

Kelly: Where do they take you after (the murder); does the questioning start 
right away?

Schroeder: No. That happened on Saturday, I didn't actually get questioned 
until Monday by (the) State Patrol.

Kelly: You told them just like you told me.

Schroeder: Exactly what happened. I told her exactly what happened.

Kelly: While you're talking to the patrolman, are you feeling anything?

Schroeder: Nothing. It's just like me and you sitting here talking. There's no 
emotion. I wish I could find somebody I could talk to that could tell me why. 
Mental health around here, they got so much other crap going on with other 
people that I don't even try to bother to talk to them. I don't know why I 
don't feel any remorse or emotions.

Kelly: Do you feel like death is an appropriate punishment for somebody who 
murders within the penitentiary?

Schroeder: To answer that real quick, yes. I believe in the death penalty, I 
honestly do. I believe if you kill somebody it's kind of an eye for an eye. I 
also believe that child molesters should be sentenced to death. That's my 
opinion. I'm probably one of the few inmates that actually believes in the 
death penalty.

Kelly: There's been a lot of discussion that the method of lethal injection has 
not been tested in the state yet. Do you have any fears about that particular 
method and the type of chemicals that they will use if you face lethal 
injection?

Schroeder: Not really. To me, whether it's painless or there's pain involved, I 
did what I did. I got what I got coming.

Kelly: You're pretty harsh with Mr. Terry. I'm wondering if you feel bad about 
his death?

Schroeder: I do not. Even back when the whole Kenny Albers deal. I have no 
emotions about the death of him or the death of Terry Berry. There's no 
emotions, no remorse.

Kelly: Why do you think that is?

Schroeder: I don't know. I've asked the mental health people here and they 
won't give me an answer. That's one thing, it bothers me that I don't have any 
feelings. That's another reason, and I explained it to Sarah, my attorney (from 
the Nebraska Commission on Public Advocacy, since fired by Schroeder:), on a 
couple different occasions about why I'm not going to fight the death penalty 
because is if they just give me another life sentence, I honestly feel that 
I'll kill again. There is no emotion there. To me, it's just something that can 
be done.

Kelly: Do you ever think about how life could've been different for you?

Schroeder: Well, I don't really worry about the past. I can't change it. I 
don't worry about the future, because, well, it's not here yet. I do my days 
kind of a day-to-day basis. I don't worry about things that I have no control 
over. Like the past, I have no control over. I can sit here, and lay in bed, 
and daydream about what things would've been like if I wouldn't have killed 
Kenny Albers and what maybe a perfect life I would've had, but it's all fairy 
tales and dreams. I don't do that.

Kelly: What kind of guy were you before Kenny Albers died?

Schroeder: I worked. I've got a criminal record that goes back to when I was 
about eight-years-old. I did a lot of stealing and thieving and stuff like 
that. As of right now, I've already got a 1st-degree murder charge on me, I've 
got another one that I'm facing, I've got a bank robbery charge, I've got a 
weapons charge. The only thing I've never been convicted of is drugs. If it's 
on the books, I've been charged with it, I guess. That and sex crimes, I've 
never. Nothing like that.

Kelly: You given any thought to why you are the way you are?

Schroeder: I have and I've never been able to come up with an answer. It's kind 
of like this whole Albers, Berry situation of why don't I feel any remorse? To 
me, you can compare it to taking out the trash. There's no emotion there. I 
don't understand why. I wish I did. I think that'd clear up a whole lot of 
things in my head.

Kelly: Was there anything you liked about your life before you ended up on the 
homicide charge?

Schroeder: Well, don't get me wrong. I loved my life. My wife, kids, job. I was 
always looking for the easy way out, which is just kind of the way I was 
raised. I rebelled since I was probably 10 or 11-years-old. No, I liked my life 
before all this happened, but it all happened, it was all over money.

Kelly: How so?

Schroeder: Well, with the Albers deal, it was a robbery. That's what that was 
over.

Kelly: What happened that day? What happened the day Mr. Albers died?

Schroeder: I had stolen some checks from him prior and wrote some checks, 
ordered some checks that I knew he was going to eventually end up going to the 
law enforcement. I was hoping I could get to him before he did that, which I 
was a day late.

Kelly: So it was a combination both the robbery and trying to keep him quiet 
about the checks?

Schroeder: Yeah. I used to work for him and I always knew he kept a fairly 
decent amount of cash in the safe in his house. It was known to pretty much 
everybody that he did. It was basically a quick buck.

Schroeder: I showed up at his house at like 4:30 a.m., knocked on his door, and 
he came to the door, I confronted him, and I ended up assaulting him with a 
night stick, which was a 22-inch riot baton. I basically hit him 5 times in the 
head, which is literally what killed him, and I drove him south to the 
farmstead of his and dropped him in a well.

Kelly: That was to cover up the crime?

Schroeder: That was an attempt to cover up the crime, yeah; but State Patrol 
brought in his son and his son took them up to that area, because he knew 
they'd owned that piece of parcel and seen fresh tire tracks.

Kelly: Has family visited you?

Schroeder; I get visits randomly from my wife, because while we're in the hole 
they're video visits and I hate video visits. To me, they're just a waste of 
time.

Kelly: You've been reluctant to talk about family in all of this.

Schroeder: Well, that's another reason that I went ahead and pled guilty and I 
didn't drag this out. I've got nothing but time on my hands, so technically I 
could've just drug this out for 2, 3 years. But I'm not going to drag my family 
through another trial; let alone one that's got implications of the death 
penalty. I already did that twice on the 1st murder trial. The 1st one ended in 
a hung jury so we had to have another one, the Albers case. I wasn't going to 
put my kids, and my wife, and my family through that again.

Kelly: Has your family said if they're upset about you going ahead and allowing 
the death penalty?

Schroeder: No. They're not upset. They understand the way I think and know me. 
It's one of them things that they know. If I'm going to make a decision, I'm 
going to make it whether they approve of it or not.

(Editor's Note: There are significant differences in Schroeder's initial 
reaction to the murders of Kenny Albers and Terry Berry, Jr. After murdering 
Berry, Schroeder supplied a complete confession to a Nebraska State Patrol 
investigator. In 2006, after the Albers' murder, Schroeder was brought in for 
questioning within hours of the murder but remained evasive with the 
investigator before providing a confession. During two trials, one resulting in 
a hung jury, Schroeder pled not guilty and his attorney attempted to keep the 
confessions out of evidence. After the guilty verdict in Otoe County District 
Court, Schroeder's attorneys appealed the case to the Nebraska Supreme Court. 
The court upheld the verdict and declined the request for a new trial. In the 
Berry case, Schroeder pled guilty, rejecting a jury trial, and claims there 
will be no future appeals.)

(source: netnebraska.org)








USA:

Aging death row: Is executing old or infirm inmates cruel?

Vernon Madison has spent decades on Alabama's death row. Now 67, Madison has 
suffered from strokes and dementia and his lawyers say he no longer recalls the 
crime that put him there: the 1985 killing of a police officer.

His speech is slurred, he suffers from confusion, and once thought he was near 
release and talked of moving to Florida, according to his lawyers. This fall, 
the U.S. Supreme Court is set to review the claims by Madison's defense team 
that executing someone in his condition would violate the Constitution's ban on 
cruel and unusual punishment.

"Killing a fragile man suffering from dementia is unnecessary and cruel," 
Madison's attorney, Bryan Stevenson of the Equal Justice Initiative, said in 
January, when the justices stayed Madison's execution the night he was to 
receive a lethal injection.

The U.S. death row population is aging, and that leaves courts increasingly 
likely to grapple with questions of when it becomes unconstitutionally cruel to 
put someone to death who is mentally frail - or whose medical conditions could 
complicate the execution procedure.

"That is going to be an increasing issue in carrying out the American death 
penalty," said Robert Dunham, executive director of the Death Penalty 
Information Center in Washington. "We are reaching a stage, as death row 
inmates age, we'll see this more frequently."

About 2,800 people are on death row in prisons nationwide, and about 1,200 of 
them over age 50, the non-profit group said. An Associated Press review of the 
group's data shows the median age of an executed inmate in the U.S. rose from 
34 to 46 between 1983 and 2017 - a fact observers attribute to appeals taking 
longer - sometimes decades.

One of the oldest, 83-year-old Walter Leroy Moody, is scheduled to be executed 
Thursday in Alabama for the 1989 package bomb killing of a federal judge. If 
the sentence is carried out, Moody would be the oldest person and the 1st 
octogenarian put to death since U.S. executions resumed in the 1970s, Dunham 
said.

"Many of these defendants have done terrible things. People are torn between 
wanting to punish severely and the belief it is beneath us as a nation to kill 
a frail person who is already dying. It's a challenge to our morality and our 
sense of humanity," Dunham said.

Kent Scheidegger, legal director of the pro-death penalty Criminal Justice 
Legal Foundation, supports steps to reduce the time between an inmate's 
sentencing and execution.

"There is no constitutional issue from age alone, though dementia does, of 
course, become more common with age. The underlying question about what kind 
and degree of mental illness will prevent an execution is not new. It is 
ancient."

Justice Stephen G. Breyer, writing in Madison's case, noted the growing number 
of aging prisoners on death row and said, "Given this trend, we may face ever 
more instances of state efforts to execute prisoners suffering the diseases and 
infirmities of old age."

Age by itself isn't the issue, but rather the illnesses more common with old 
age.

Take Alva Campbell, 69. He died last month in an Ohio prison of natural causes 
after his 2017 lethal injection procedure was halted when a usable vein 
couldn't be found. Alabama similarly aborted last month's execution of Doyle 
Lee Hamm, 61, who has battled lymphoma. His lawyer said Hamm had at least 11 
puncture wounds from attempts to find a vein.

"It was precisely Doyle's old age and illness that raised all the problems. The 
state of Alabama was not prepared," Hamm's attorney, Bernard Harcourt, wrote in 
an email.

Yet 75-year-old Tommy Arthur, who had argued that his cardiovascular disease 
would complicate execution, was put to death without obvious incident last year 
in Alabama.

Madison was convicted of killing Mobile police officer Julius Schulte.

Schulte responded to a missing child report on April 18, 1985. Arriving at a 
home, he found the child had returned but Madison and his girlfriend were 
embroiled in a domestic dispute. According to court records, Schulte interacted 
briefly with Madison, telling him to "just to go on and let things cool down." 
According to prosecutors, Madison left but then crept up behind Schulte as he 
sat in his police car, shooting him twice in the head.

The Supreme Court has ruled inmates must have a rational understanding of why 
they're being executed, faculties which Madison's lawyers say he doesn't 
possess.

His attorneys argue strokes have left Madison frequently disoriented with no 
independent memory of his crime. They also say he is legally blind, cannot walk 
independently and has urinary incontinence from his brain damage.

The state's lawyers counter that Madison was found competent at a 2016 hearing, 
hasn't presented new evidence and is aware he received the death sentence - 
even if he doesn't remember killing Schulte.

"What happened to my dad was cruel and unusual punishment," said Schulte's son, 
Michael. "He was shot twice in the head while he was trying to help somebody."

Schulte, 59, has suffered health problems of his own, including a stroke and 
heart attack. Yet he said Madison's protracted legal fight has been hard on his 
family and doesn't "do my dad justice."

Said Schulte: "Somebody needs to make a decision. Either we are going to have 
the death penalty or we're not."

(source: Associated Press)