[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----OHIO, MO., CALIF., USA

[Rick Halperin]

April 9



OHIO:

New lawyer named in Lebanon inmate death penalty case



A new lawyer has been appointed to help defend a prison inmate facing the death 
penalty for strangling his cellmate in their cell at the Lebanon Correctional 
Institution.

Last week, Judge Donald Oda II appointed Ryan DeBra as co-counsel for Jack 
Welninski, 33.

Welninski is accused of murdering cellmate Kevin Nill “because it worked for” 
Casey Pigge, an inmate transferred after murdering an inmate at the prison, 
according to Warren County Prosecutor David Fornshell. Nill, 40, was a Piqua 
man serving a short prison sentence for domestic violence.

DeBra replaces Tamara Sack as co-counsel to John Kaspar.

“The Defendant has communicated to Lead Counsel that he does not trust me and 
does not want me to represent him,” Sack said in a motion filed on March 29 in 
Warren County Common Pleas Court.

Sack was appointed on Oct. 19 and has participated in hearings and filings 
since then.

“It is therefore not possible for me to remain on as Co-Counsel, as I cannot 
carry out my responsibilities in this Capital case due to the irreconcilable 
bias and mistrust the Defendant has for me,” Sack added in her motion to 
withdraw from the case.

Sack could not be reached for comment.

It was unclear how much this would delay Welninski’s trial. He is now held, 
along with Pigge, at the Ohio State Penitentiary, the state’s prison for the 
most dangerous inmates.

Welninski was serving a 69-year prison sentence after being convicted in Wood 
County for the 2015 attempted murder of an Oregon, Ohio, police officer.

Nill was serving an 18-month sentence for attempted domestic violence.

On Oct. 15, Welninski was indicted for aggravated murder, along with 2 capital 
specifications, and a repeat violent offender specification by a Warren County 
grand jury.

Welninski is accused of murdering Nill on April 23 at the prison west of 
Lebanon in Turtlecreek Twp.

Nill was found in his cell, a rope around his neck, and pronounced dead at 
Atrium Medical Center, according to Doyle Burke, chief investigator for the 
Warren County Coroner’s Office.

“The 2 had been cellmates for less than an hour before Nill was discovered 
deceased in the cell,” according to the release.

Pigge is one of Ohio’s most notorious prisoners.

In January 2017, he pleaded guilty to murdering cellmate Luther Wade of 
Springfield at Lebanon Correctional on Feb. 23, 2016.

He has since pleaded to strangling another inmate, David Johnson, on Feb. 1, 
2017, as they rode on a prison bus.

Pigge was moved to the state’s super max facility in Youngstown after he and 
another inmate were suspected in a brutal attack on Corrections Officer Matthew 
Mathias.

(source: Dayton Daily News)

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

Makers of Ohio death drugs oppose use in executions



At least 2 companies that manufacture drugs used in the Ohio death penalty 
adamantly oppose the use of their products in executions, raising more 
questions about whether the state has been obtaining them through subterfuge.

Asked if it tells suppliers their products are to be used in executions, a 
spokeswoman for the agency that buys the drugs said officials there don’t know 
their end use. However, a pharmacist with the agency testified in 2014 that she 
purchases the drugs and drives drives them to the death house.

And as Ohio devises a new death penalty protocol, Gov. Mike DeWine won’t commit 
to telling drug makers and distributors when the state buys their products that 
they’re intended for use in the death chamber.

In response to a request for records relating to execution drugs, the Ohio 
Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services provided The Columbus 
Dispatch with purchase orders and invoices for midazolam, the 1st drug used in 
Ohio’s current protocol as a sedative, and potassium chloride, the third drug, 
which is intended to stop the condemned person’s heart.

In an earlier response, the agency provided invoices for the same drugs that 
the mental health department sent to the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility 
near Lucasville, where the death chamber is housed.

DeWine this year paused executions after a federal judge sitting in Dayton 
determined midazolam didn’t have the pain-killing properties supporters 
claimed. The judge also ruled that without such analgesic properties, injection 
of potassium chloride “would feel as though fire was being poured” into a 
prisoner’s veins.

As prison officials grapple with how to devise a new method to carry out 
executions, they also must contend with how to get lethal drugs. A growing 
number of drug makers and distributors have declared publicly they won’t allow 
their products to be used in executions. They generally don’t take a position 
on the death penalty, but say they make their products for medical purposes, 
and executions don’t qualify.

Such companies include New Jersey-based Hikma, whose Columbus plant employs 
1,100. A wholesaler in January supplied the Department of Mental Health and 
Addiction Services with $800 worth of midazolam made by Hikma under its former 
name, West Ward Pharmaceuticals.

“We object in the strongest possible terms to the use of any of our products 
for the purpose of capital punishment,” Hikma says on its website, which 
specifically lists midazolam 5MG/ML vials, the type supplied to Ohio, as one 
such drug.

“Not only is it contrary to the intended label use(s) for the products, but it 
is also inconsistent with our values and mission of improving lives by 
providing quality, affordable health care to patients.”

A company spokesman declined to comment for this story, but Hikma last year 
sued Nevada to stop it from using fentanyl it made in a planned execution 
there, and it notified Nebraska to keep its products out of that state’s 
execution chamber as well.

The documents from Mental Health and Addiction Services show that Valley Forge, 
Pa.-based wholesaler AmerisourceBergen supplied Ohio with the Hikma-made 
midazolam and potassium chloride from an unknown manufacturer.

“We buy pharmaceuticals directly from manufacturers, and we adhere to their 
restrictions on the distribution of their products, including those that 
prohibit the sale of certain products to correctional facilities,” company 
spokesman Gabe Weissman said in an email. “AmerisourceBergen does not receive 
patient or clinical information from the licensed and registered pharmacies who 
are our wholesale distribution customers.

“Resultingly, we have limited ability to track if a product was administered to 
a patient or if it was resold to another pharmacy or transferred between state 
agencies. If we do conclude that a pharmacy violated a contract with 
AmerisourceBergen we’ll look into appropriate actions to address that issue.”

Another distributor, Gulf Coast Pharmaceuticals Plus, of Ocean Springs, Miss., 
in Nov. 2017 shipped the mental health department potassium chloride made by 
Pfizer, according to the Ohio department’s records. Last September, it shipped 
the same chemical made by Pfizer subsidiary Hospira.

Gulf Coast Pharmaceuticals couldn’t be reached for this story. Pfizer adamantly 
opposes its drugs being used in executions.

“Pfizer makes its products to enhance and save the lives of the patients we 
serve,” spokesman Steven Danehy said in an email. “We strongly object to the 
use of any of our products in the lethal injection process for capital 
punishment.

“Since 2016, we have informed the Ohio Department of Rehabilitation and 
Correction on multiple occasions that Pfizer strongly objects to the use of its 
products as lethal injections for capital punishment. We asked them to return 
any Hospira or Pfizer manufactured Restricted Product in their possession and 
provided them with procedures to follow to return for a full refund.”

Supplies at risk

Robert Dunham of the Death Penalty Information Center has said that the 
Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services runs the risk of losing 
suppliers if they think their drugs might be bound for the death chamber. But 
the department, which bills Rehabilitation and Correction as a separate entity, 
says it doesn’t know for what purpose some of the drugs its pharmacy buys are 
used.

“OhioMHAS is not provided with information on the intended use of the drugs we 
order on behalf of customers,” agency spokeswoman Jamie Carmichael said in an 
email.

The agency says it doesn’t know that some of the drugs it buys are intended for 
use in executions, but testimony in a 2014 federal court hearing about Ohio’s 
death penalty protocol indicates otherwise. Mary Denise Dean, a pharmacist for 
the Ohio Department of Mental Health and Addiction Services, testified that she 
ordered the drugs. She said she had them delivered to the agency’s Columbus 
headquarters and then drove them to the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility 
near Lucasville, where the state’s death house is located.

In a phone interview last week, DeWine, who until January was Ohio attorney 
general, also said he didn’t know whether the state has been informing 
distributors and manufacturers whether their products would be used in 
executions.

“I don’t know about your specific question about what suppliers know,” he said, 
adding that it would be premature to decide whether to provide that information 
until the new protocol is formulated.

As manufacturers and distributors have became reluctant to supply death drugs, 
Ohio passed a law that in 2015 allowing state officials to withhold the names 
of companies involved. It expired March 23, 2017. Since then — and since the 
drugs in the invoices released by the state were obtained — Ohio has executed 2 
men and attempted to execute another.

DeWine said he didn’t know when the correction department would complete its 
new lethal injection protocol. Asked if he thought Ohio has seen its last 
execution, he declined to answer.

(source: Canton Repository)








MISSOURI:

Convicted killer Craig Wood’s attorney: “Missouri’s death penalty scheme is 
unconstitutional”



The Missouri Supreme Court will hear oral arguments Tuesday morning in 
Jefferson City in the case of a prisoner appealing his death sentence for 
killing a Springfield girl 5 years ago.

51-year-old Craig Michael Wood is currently incarcerated at the 
maximum-security Potosi Correctional Center in Mineral Point, under a death 
sentence. Wood was convicted of 1st degree murder for the 2014 kidnapping and 
killing of 10-year-old Hailey Owens in Springfield.

Defense attorneys admitted in court in August 2017 that Wood kidnapped, raped 
and killed Owens. Defense attorney Patrick Berrigan argued during the trial 
that there was substantial evidence of the lack of planning and preparation, 
saying it was not premeditated.

Wood’s public defender, Rosemary Percival, has filed a 136-page brief with the 
Missouri Supreme Court. She says that Missouri is one of only two states that 
allow a judge to impose a death sentence after jurors could not. Indiana is the 
other state.

In this case, a jury was selected in western Missouri’s Platte County and the 
trial was held in Springfield. The jurors were not unanimous about the death 
sentence, and Greene County Circuit Judge Thomas Mountjoy sentenced Wood to 
death.

The “Springfield News-Leader”, quoting the jury foreman, has reported that 10 
jurors supported the death sentence and that 2 supported life in prison without 
parole.

State Attorney General Eric Schmitt and Assistant Attorney General Daniel 
McPherson have responded to Percival with a 106-page brief, which says 
Missouri’s statute allowing a judge to impose a death sentence when the jury 
deadlocks is constitutional.

Schmitt and McPherson write that the Missouri Supreme Court “has repeatedly 
found that procedure to be constitutional.”

Counselor Percival also argues that Missouri’s “death penalty scheme” is 
unconstitutional and that Judge Mountjoy abused his discretion by allowing 
fictional stories Wood wrote about 13-year-old girls to be mentioned during the 
trial.

The state disagrees, with Schmitt and McPherson writing that the stories show 
that Craig Wood “has an unhealthy compelling sexual interest in young teenage 
girls.”

The court documents say Hailey Owens was abducted on the afternoon of February 
18, 2014, as she was walking home on West Lombard Street in Springfield.

Springfield Police found her body in a plastic tub in Craig Wood’s basement. 
The court documents say Hailey Owens died from a gunshot wound to the back of 
her neck.

Wood will not be in the Jefferson City courtroom on Tuesday.

Meantime, Missouri lawmakers are working on legislation known as “Hailey’s 
Law”, which involves Missouri’s Amber Alert System Oversight Committee.

While the Missouri House and Senate have approved different versions of the 
bill, State Rep. Curtis Trent, R-Springfield, tells Missourinet he believes 
it’s on track for final passage by May.

There are currently no meeting requirements for the Amber Alert System 
Oversight Committee. Representative Trent’s legislation requires the committee 
to meet at least annually to discuss potential improvements to the system.

State Sen. Eric Burlison, R-Springfield, is handling the Senate version. 
Burlison’s bill would require the committee to submit a report to the 
Legislature by January 2020 and annually after that.

(source: missourinet.com)

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

KC man to stand trial for allegedly beating 2 people to death then shooting & 
killing 3 others



The man charged with killing 5 people in a south Kansas City neighborhood in 
2014 will appear in court Monday.

Brandon Howell faces 5 counts of 1st-degree murder.

Officials said Howell beat 2 victims, George and Ann Taylor, to death, then 
shot and killed 3 others when they tried to intervene.

Police arrested Howell in the Northland by I-29 where he was found walking. He 
had a shotgun.

In August 2015 Jackson County prosecutors said they will seek the death penalty 
for Howell.

(source: fox4kc.com)








CALIFORNIA:

Harris' death penalty decision criticized on both sides----How Kamala Harris' 
death penalty decisions broke hearts on both sides

Senator Kamala Harris greets supporters along the rope line after a campaign 
rally. She hugs admirers, poses for selfies and warmly thanks person after 
person for attending.

Watching on her TV, Renata Espinoza stares and shakes her head.

"Is it the real you?" Espinoza asks of the candidate on screen. "Or is it not? 
We never saw that," she said. "It upsets me because I see her doing that now, 
and I wish she would have done that back then."

The "back then" is 2004, when Espinoza, her husband Isaac and Harris were all 
part of San Francisco's extended law and order family - Isaac Espinoza as a 
police officer and Harris as the city's newly elected district attorney.

It was when Renata Espinoza became a widow and when the prosecutors' mantra of 
standing "for the people" suddenly became for her, and her murdered husband.

For Harris, she was on a crucial early rung of the professional and political 
ladder that would take her to today, becoming a top-tier candidate for the 
Democratic nomination for President of the United States.

Her time as a prosecutor helped to shape some of the policies on which she's 
now running as well as to give fodder to both her supporters and critics. One 
case is her attitude to the death penalty. While she's been consistent in her 
personal opposition to capital punishment, professionally she has both refused 
to seek it AND, as California attorney general, acted to keep it available. Her 
actions have upset both people for and against the death penalty, though Harris 
has always stood by her decisions.

Renata Espinoza has always declined to speak on camera. But, after 15 years, 
she agreed to a CNN interview because of Harris' presidential run.

"I want people to know who she is," Espinoza said, "how she was back then and 
how her actions affected us. I want people to know everything about her, even 
in the past, before they vote for her. And I want them to hear Isaac's story."

Death of an officer

It was the day before Easter in 2004. Officer Isaac Espinoza, 29, was called in 
on overtime, to work the Saturday shift. He was looking forward to getting off 
that night so he could rest before Easter services with his wife and 3-year-old 
daughter. Espinoza worked as a plainclothes officer in the Bayview District of 
San Francisco. Bayview struggled with poverty and gang wars -- but it was a 
neighborhood Espinoza was drawn to, requesting it as an assignment because he 
felt he made the most impact as a cop there.

On that night, April 10, Espinoza and his partner saw a man who appeared to be 
hiding a weapon as he walked down the street. Espinoza got out of their 
unmarked car and approached him, identifying himself as a police officer, 
according to court testimony. The man, 21-year-old David Hill, turned to face 
him, about a dozen feet away. Then he took out an AK-47 assault rifle and fired 
about a dozen rounds.

"I had just talked to Isaac maybe about 30 to 40 minutes before," recalled 
Renata Espinoza, her voice soft and shy, sometimes barely above a whisper. "He 
had told me to stay up because he was coming home."

Instead, she was taken to him -- sped in a police vehicle to San Francisco 
General Hospital by one of her husband's fellow officers.

"Is he alive?" she asked.

"He's fine, he's alive," he reassured her.

But her Isaac had been shot.

When they pulled into the hospital, a sea of police officers met Espinoza. None 
of them would look at her.

"Can I see him? Can I see him?" Espinoza pleaded.

The officers searched for their captain.

Espinoza doesn't remember everything she said that night -- she just knew that 
then, like every night since she was 16 years old, Isaac was the center of her 
life. He had to be OK.

Renata and Isaac met when they were teenagers.

The pair were high school sweethearts. They met when she was a sophomore and he 
was a senior -- he was the loud jokester at school and she, the shy daughter of 
a pastor. Renata's father, conservative and faithful, forbade her from going 
out on solo dates. So instead, the young couple would take all of Renata's 
siblings along, to spend time with each other without breaking the rule.

Isaac Espinoza knew two things at an early age, his wife said -- he would one 
day marry her and he would become a police officer.

He would accomplish both. A few years out of high school, Renata married Isaac. 
And as soon as he was age-eligible, he joined the police academy. Then after 
trying for several years, the couple had a daughter, Isabella.

Being a father, a husband, a cop and a Christian -- that's what mattered to 
Isaac Espinoza.

Espinoza's captain approached Renata. He handed her Isaac's star.

"I remember I walked into this room and he still had blood here," said Renata 
Espinoza, pointing to her hip, her voice breaking as she remembered. She 
paused, the tears she'd held back now falling. "He was laying there with his 
eyes closed and I saw the blood here. And I walk over to him I just said, 'wake 
up.'"

Renata's pastor father was in the room too. She turned to him and pleaded. "Can 
you just pray over him?" she cried in desperation. "So he can wake up."

The news conference

Gary Delagnes was also at the hospital that night, as president of the San 
Francisco Police Officers Association. Isaac Espinoza was the union 
representative for the Bayview station and Delagnes knew him and his young 
family. Afterwards, he couldn't get the image of the young officer's body -- 
struck by bullets from the rifle -- out of his mind. It had been 10 years since 
a San Francisco officer had been gunned down in the line of duty.

"A day or 2 after the death, I got a call from her," he remembered. The caller 
was new District Attorney Harris. Delagnes was also relatively new as union 
president and the two had a somewhat cool professional relationship because the 
police union had endorsed another candidate. But Delagnes said both recognized 
the need to work together.

He knew there would be areas where they would have to agree to disagree -- as 
on the death penalty. Harris had pledged in her campaign for DA not to seek the 
death penalty -- a stance generally backed by Bay Area voters and juries, and 
also taken by the other 2 candidates. Delagnes, a practicing Catholic, himself 
had mixed feelings. He would publicly both support and reject the death penalty 
in his career.

On April 13, 2004, three days after Isaac Espinoza was shot to death, a suspect 
was in custody and Delagnes agreed to join Harris at a news conference. "In San 
Francisco, it is the will, I believe, of a majority of people that the most 
severe crimes be met with the most severe consequences," Harris told reporters 
and camera crews. "And that life without the possibility of parole is a severe 
consequence."

"I'm standing there and I'm going, 'Oh my God,'" recalled Delagnes, who stood 
stoically next to the DA, then 39, as she spoke. "The kid's not even in the 
ground yet. You're thinking to yourself, OK, is she sorry that this kid died or 
is this just a political opportunity? Is this just an opportunity for her to 
double down on the fact she's not going to pursue the death penalty?"

Debbie Mesloh, a longtime Harris adviser who was then communications director 
for the DA's office, recalled the hours and days after Espinoza's murder as 
emotionally wrought for the new team.

Within 48 hours of Espinoza's murder, Mesloh remembers reporters asking for 
comment, saying the police officers' union was calling for the death penalty. 
But San Francisco juries rarely, if ever, handed down the death penalty and the 
suspect was just 21, she told CNN.

"We were working in a full attempt to be honest and provide clarity on what was 
a difficult and emotionally charged situation," said Mesloh. "As communications 
director, I recommended we provide details about the case as soon as possible."

In the shock of becoming a 27-year-old widow with a toddler to raise, Renata 
Espinoza's memory is inexact about the immediate days following the murder. But 
she's crystal clear that the news conference was when she first heard about 
Harris' decision to not seek the death penalty.

"She did not call me," recounted Espinoza. "I don't understand why she went on 
camera to say that without talking to the family. It's like, you can't even 
wait till he's buried?"

Newfound anger was layered upon her grief.

"I felt like she had just taken something from us," said Espinoza. "She had 
just taken justice from us. From Isaac. She was only thinking of herself. I 
couldn't understand why. I was in disbelief that she had gone on and already 
made her decision to not seek the death penalty for my husband."

Political ramifications

The political blowback for Harris came swiftly, publicly and out of the blue at 
Espinoza's funeral, exacted by the most powerful elected official in 
attendance.

Hundreds of police officers, state and city officials filled the church pews 
for the fallen officer, with his young widow and toddler seated near the 
casket.

US Sen. Dianne Feinstein, in the middle of a fight in the Senate to reauthorize 
her assault weapons ban, had been invited to give a eulogy. In 2004, Feinstein 
was a supporter of the death penalty, a position she would later change. But as 
she stepped before the grieving crowd, Feinstein made clear her sentiments on 
that day.

She parted from her prepared remarks and, while not using her name, blasted the 
new district attorney. "This is not only the definition of tragedy, it's the 
special circumstance called for by the death penalty law," she said.

Renata Espinoza remembers the din of chaos after Feinstein's words -- then the 
standing ovation by hundreds of rank-and-file officers as they turned to 
Harris.

Delagnes, who was also at the funeral, keeps a grudging respect for Harris. "It 
would have been very easy for her to say, 'Hey, I'm against the death penalty 
but this guy killed a cop and I'm going to change my mind on this.' There's 
something to be said for the fact that she remained consistent."

Nevertheless, the San Francisco Police Officers Association never endorsed 
Harris in any of her future political runs.

Harris' adviser Mesloh said the funeral frayed the relationship between the 
DA's office and the police department. "Pronouncements at the church on the 
death penalty in this case sowed deep division and pain within San Francisco 
law enforcement and between our office and the family," she said. The DA's 
victim services team was in contact with the police department, a department 
that closed ranks around the family.

The focus inside the DA's office turned to getting the sentence of life in 
prison without parole, a challenge given the defendant's age, Mesloh said. The 
assistant DA, Harry Dorfman, would try the case with the full resources of the 
office and directly engage with the family.

But the Espinoza family still wanted to talk to Harris.

Renata Espinoza wrote a letter to Harris. Regina Espinoza, older sister to 
Isaac by just one year, kept expecting a response or phone call from the DA.

"She never called," Regina Espinoza said. "There was no consideration for 
Renata, my niece, my parents, me, or the officers. It was as if she didn't 
care." Mesloh did not recall a letter arriving for Harris from the Espinoza 
family. She said, while she could not dispute the account, it would be 
uncharacteristic of Harris to not answer a letter. Harris has been known to 
painstakingly reply to many letters over her years in office, she added.

The Espinozas still did not understand why Harris wouldn't seek the maximum 
punishment possible for Isaac's death. In 1973, California passed a "special 
circumstances" law, making the murderer of a police officer eligible for the 
death penalty.

The Espinozas knew the immediate past showed the death penalty as a punishment 
might be near impossible, but an accused cop killer had not gone on trial in 
San Francisco for decades.

Harris had laid out her opposition to the death penalty during her run for DA, 
saying there were a multitude of systemic flaws -- including the inequity of 
its application based on a defendant's race and income, and the cost to 
taxpayers of keeping prisoners on death row.

On April 23 -- 13 days after Espinoza's death and just a week since his funeral 
-- the San Francisco Chronicle ran an opinion article from Harris where she 
again laid out what she saw as problems with using the death penalty, and why 
she would not pursue it. She wrote, "For those who want this defendant put to 
death, let me say simply that there can be no exception to principle."

Harris wrote that she wanted to honor her commitment to the people of San 
Francisco to oppose the death penalty. "The district attorney is charged with 
seeking justice, not vengeance."

The Espinoza family clipped the piece and added it to the memorial album for 
Isaac. They hadn't known about Harris' opposition to the death penalty before 
the news conference, they said. Their confusion and anger grew, as a feeling 
that the DA was not seeking full justice for Isaac solidified.

The family says they asked the assistant DA to arrange a meeting with Harris, 
so they could make their pleas in person.

"I can't remember exactly what she said," Regina Espinoza told CNN. "But I 
remember there was no connection. We let her know how we felt. We didn't walk 
away feeling better."

Renata Espinoza recalled: "She never came over and said, 'I'm sorry for your 
loss.' Never. Nothing." She wanted that human connection, even for a moment, 
she said. "I would have been able to hear her explanation directly and then we 
could have talked about it."

In the months and then years that it took for the trial to lead to a 
conviction, Renata Espinoza said Harris never gave her that compassion she 
hoped for.

On the presidential campaign trail this month, Harris called Officer Espinoza's 
case "an absolute tragedy," and said her office "prosecuted that case with all 
the resources that we had."

She did not answer directly when asked if she personally ever spoke with the 
Espinoza family, but said someone from her office did. "We reached out to the 
family. We always did. We did in that case as well and offered all of the 
support that our office was able to give the family."

Asked whether she regrets not speaking to the family before announcing the 
death penalty would not be sought, Harris said, "I did not ask for permission 
to make my decision."

She would not discuss the matter further with CNN, but last month Harris told 
the San Francisco Chronicle the question she's reflected on is whether she 
should have waited until after Espinoza's funeral to discuss punishment.

"Maybe it was a political novice mistake. I don't know. Maybe it was the right 
thing to do but you got to take the heat for it," the newspaper quoted her as 
saying.

Life in prison

"It took a lot of courage and integrity to make a campaign promise like that -- 
and then keep it," said David Hill, Espinoza's killer and the key beneficiary 
of Harris' decision not to seek the death penalty. "I'm forever grateful."

Hill is now 36. He's an inmate at the maximum-security California State Prison.

"I will spend the rest of my life in jail," said Hill, matter of fact and 
without emotion. After he was found guilty of the murder of Espinoza and the 
attempted murder of his partner, a judge handed down two consecutive life 
sentences, one without the possibility of parole.

In a series of phone calls with CNN, Hill reflected on the 21-year-old gang 
member he once was, and how different he says he is today. Hill sounded upbeat 
and earnest, until he talked about the pain he unleashed on the Espinoza 
family.

"I am remorseful about the whole situation," said Hill, pausing as he recalled 
his crime. "I'm deeply saddened. And I came to this feeling through the 
rehabilitation programs at the prison. They've helped me understand."

When asked about Renata Espinoza, Hill said, "Sorry wouldn't suffice." He said 
he has not tried to send Espinoza any letter expressing his remorse in the last 
15 years, but said he thinks often about how his actions led to so much loss 
for her.

"I know what she's missing out on," he said, talking about Espinoza raising a 
daughter without the man he killed.

"All those first moments," said Hill, himself a father. "All that he's missing 
out on, too."

Hill has a set schedule in prison, a day that begins at 6 a.m. and ends before 
sundown. He takes a variety of classes -- restorative justice, art, culture, 
creative writing and yoga. He has been the prison's literacy clerk and is 
involved in the prison's book club, where guests speak to inmates.

Hill said he's been paying attention to Kamala Harris' campaign for President 
and has heard her underscore her personal opposition to the death penalty. In 
his case, said Hill, not being sentenced to death changed his entire outlook, 
even though he knows he will die in jail. "There's no specific day that I know 
I will die," he said. "I'm not unredeemable."

The other case

The clock was running for Professor Hadar Aviram.

"45 days," she said to herself. "45."

She clicked "start a petition" on the change.org website. She titled it, "Do 
Not Appeal Judge Carney's Death Penalty Abolition Decision." Aviram began 
typing a public plea, directing the petition to California Governor Jerry Brown 
and Attorney General Kamala Harris.

It was summer, 2014. US District Court Judge Cormac Carney had ruled 
California's death penalty was unconstitutional, halting executions in the 
state. He found that the long wait on death row before execution was itself 
cruel and unusual punishment. Anti-death penalty activists like Aviram may not 
have agreed with the judge's reasoning, but still cheered the decision.

1 ballot propositions attempting to abolish the death penalty in California had 
failed but here was a new opportunity. If Harris didn't file the appeal to the 
9th Circuit Court of Appeals before the 45-day window closed, Aviram believed 
the decision by Judge Carney would become a launching pad to end the death 
penalty.

Aviram was hopeful that Harris, who became attorney general in 2011, would 
listen. "I knew that personally she was opposed to the death penalty and had 
never sought it as San Francisco DA," said Aviram. "Basically, all I asked the 
attorney general to do was nothing."

Aviram underscored her message to Harris by closing her petition with this: "I 
call upon Ms. Harris to do the right thing, as her office did in (Prop 8) and 
refrain from appealing a decision that she knows is right, prudent and just."

Harris had refused to defend Proposition 8, the California voter-approved law 
that declared same-sex marriage unconstitutional. She and the governor believed 
the voter initiative infringed on the civil rights of same-sex couples. Their 
actions paved the way for the case to reach the Supreme Court, which later 
ruled in favor of allowing same sex couples to marry.

As the 45 days ticked down, Aviram thought she was right about Harris.

"So imagine our surprise when, a couple of days before the clock runs out, the 
attorney general decides to appeal the decision," Aviram said. "It was an 
upsetting piece of news to receive."

Soon after, Aviram said she got a call from an assistant to Harris who 
explained the appeal was being filed because the judge's reasoning was flawed.

But Aviram saw Harris' actions as "hardly consistent with her personal 
opposition to the death penalty."

"You are not under any obligation to defend things that are morally unjust," 
she told CNN. "If you truly believe that they're morally unjust and you have an 
opportunity to take a stand, I think it's an imperative to do so."

Harris' campaign did not provide answers to CNN questions about the death 
penalty appeal.

While Harris' filing of the appeal disappointed anti-death penalty advocates 
across California, the decision was praised by the Los Angeles Times Editorial 
Board as an appropriate one for the attorney general, "putting professional 
responsibility over personal politics." But the newspaper also cited Harris' 
inconsistency in not supporting Proposition 8. "... Harris' response to the two 
cases suggests a willingness to pick and choose the limits of professional 
obligation."

The 9th Circuit Court of Appeals agreed with the attorney general's argument 
and overturned the lower court ruling. The death penalty was once again part of 
California's penal system. Until this year.

In March, California's new Governor Gavin Newsom signed an executive order 
putting a moratorium on the state's death penalty, calling it "ineffective, 
irreversible and immoral." Under Newsom's order, all 737 inmates on death row 
were granted reprieves.

It's a decision Presidential candidate Harris immediately hailed. In a 
statement she said, "I applaud Governor Newsom for his decision to put a 
moratorium on this deeply flawed system of capital punishment in California."

Aviram has examined Harris' law enforcement career and calls her a progressive 
prosecutor, but still criticizes her action on the death penalty appeal.

"The brave thing is not so much to support the person who does the 
revolutionary thing. The brave thing is to actually step up and do the 
revolutionary thing," she said.

A full picture

For Renata Espinoza, the appeal over the death penalty added to her confusion 
about Harris. "It feels like, why are you changing your mind now? Why couldn't 
you change your mind back then and put your feelings aside?"

Espinoza told CNN she agreed to an interview now for 2 reasons.

The 1st is for voters to have a full picture of the candidate and her humanity. 
"You're trying to be President of the United States. That's a lot. Are you 
going to show compassion? Are you going to be 'for the people'? Or are you 
going to be for yourself?" she asks of the candidate, referencing her 'for the 
people' slogan.

The 2nd, and more important, was for Isaac. He was the brave and loud one in 
their marriage, Espinoza said, and she preferred to let him do the talking. But 
he can't talk now.

"He just believed in fairness," said Espinoza. "The way things went down with 
her, that wasn't fair. He always fought for the little guy and he loved doing 
it. With us, she was careless. And now you're running for President. I don't 
think her actions back then are those Isaac would approve of."

(source: CNN)








USA:

Religious freedom on death row: How a new lawsuit affects a growing 
debate----What a Supreme Court order on a Muslim death row inmate says about 
the role of judges



A new lawsuit could resolve growing conflict over the religious freedom rights 
of death row inmates, which have been in the spotlight since the Supreme Court 
issued 2 controversial and seemingly contradictory orders in recent months.

Charles L. Burton Jr., a Muslim who has been on death row in Alabama since 
1992, has sued the state’s Department of Corrections for access to an imam in 
the execution chamber. Under the department's current policy, only a Christian 
chaplain is available.

“No matter your political or religious perspective, surely we can all agree on 
the abiding importance of religious liberty at the hour of our death,” said 
James Sonne, director of Stanford Law School’s Religious Liberty Clinic in a 
press release about the case.

Conservative and liberal organizations, lawmakers and legal scholars have 
criticized inconsistent policies and rulings affecting religious prisoners 
across the country. Many see the new lawsuit as a chance to clarify the rights 
of inmates like Burton and ensure proper treatment moving forward.

“This could be the case that resolves the issue once and for all,” tweeted Luke 
Goodrich, vice president and senior counsel for The Becket Fund for Religious 
Liberty.

Burton’s lawsuit comes after the U.S. Supreme Court allowed another Muslim 
inmate in Alabama to be executed without an imam present.

Domineque Ray, who was also Muslim, requested a stay of execution in January 
due to the state’s chaplain policy. A stay was initially granted by the 11th 
Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals, which ruled that allowing Christian but not 
Muslim religious leaders into the execution chamber represented religious 
discrimination.

" This could be the case that resolves the issue once and for all. "----Luke 
Goodrich, vice president and senior counsel for The Becket Fund for Religious 
Liberty

“The central constitutional problem here is that the state has regularly placed 
a Christian cleric in the execution room to minister to the needs of Christian 
inmates, but has refused to provide the same benefit to a devout Muslim and 
other non-Christians,” the ruling explained.

However, on Feb. 7, the U.S. Supreme Court vacated this stay, allowing the 
execution to proceed. The court’s five conservative justices said that Ray had 
waited too long to express his concerns.

“Because Ray waited until Jan. 28, 2019, to seek relief, we grant the state’s 
application to vacate the stay,” read the Supreme Court order.

This decision was widely condemned, including by Justice Elena Kagan, who 
called it “profoundly wrong.”

However, legal experts disagreed on what motivated the decision. Some liberal 
observers claimed the court had shown anti-Muslim bias, while others felt the 
justices were worried about appearing to interfere with state-level death 
penalty decisions at the last minute, the Deseret News reported.

Ray was executed on Feb. 7.

Nearly two months later, the Supreme Court seemed to change its tune, granting 
a similar request for a stay of execution. Justices decided that Patrick 
Murphy, a Buddhist death row inmate in Texas, could not be executed until his 
religious freedom concerns were addressed. At the time, Texas allowed Christian 
and Muslim chaplains to be in the execution chamber, but not representatives of 
other faiths.

“The state may not carry out Murphy’s execution … unless the state permits 
Murphy’s Buddhist spiritual adviser or another Buddhist reverend of the State’s 
choosing to accompany Murphy in the execution chamber,” the Supreme Court said 
on Mar. 28.

Again, the court faced charges of religious discrimination, as some legal 
scholars questioned how the same justices could support these divergent orders.

Others, including Goodrich, argued that the shift could be explained by the 
different ways the 2 requests for stay of execution were argued.

Ray’s case centered on the First Amendment’s establishment clause, which 
mandates equal treatment of faith groups. Murphy’s case was more about the 
First Amendment’s free exercise clause, guaranteeing the ability to exercise 
your religious beliefs, and the Religious Land Use and Institutionalized 
Persons Act, which prevents the government from unnecessarily interfering with 
prisoners’ religious freedom rights.

The new lawsuit notes the Supreme Court’s two recent orders, presenting 
Burton’s case as a chance to sort out ongoing confusion and injustice. It cites 
the Religious Land Use and Instutionalized Persons Act, the First Amendment’s 
free exercise and establishment clauses and the Alabama constitution’s 
religious freedom amendment.

" Inmates who share the chaplain’s faith may hold his hand and pray with him in 
their final moments, but that same comfort and prayer is denied to those of 
other denominations or faiths."

“The (department’s) actions violate 2 of the most elementary principles of our 
constitutional democracy, principles that the law requires to be honored even 
in prison: to be able to practice one’s religion free from substantial and 
unjustified governmental burdens and to be free from governmental 
discrimination based on one’s religion,” reads the legal complaint.

Burton, who converted to Islam 47 years ago, is not asking for a stay of 
execution, as his execution has not yet been scheduled. Instead, he’s asking 
the court to reject Alabama’s current chaplain policy and ensure he has access 
to an imam when he is ultimately put to death.

“Inmates who share the chaplain’s faith may hold his hand and pray with him in 
their final moments, but that same comfort and prayer is denied to those of 
other denominations or faiths,” according to the press release announcing 
Burton’s lawsuit.

Alabama officials have said they limit access to the execution chamber due to 
security concerns.

As the lawsuit proceeds, state leaders, judges and death row inmates will 
continue to navigate confusing and sometimes contradictory laws and rulings.

Texas officials have already changed their chaplain policy in light of the 
Supreme Court’s March order. Now, no death row inmate will have access to a 
spiritual or religious adviser in the execution chamber.

“The policy, which had previously allowed Christian and Muslim chaplains 
employed by the department to enter the chamber, now forbids anyone besides 
security personnel from entering,” Reuters reported.

(source: deseretnews.com)