Searching for Hope: Reflections in preparation for a vigil against the death penalty
I am writing this essay as part of
my preparation for this afternoon's
execution of Lesly Gosch. From
5:00 p.m. until about 6:30 p.m., I
will be standing in front of the
"Walls Unit" of the Texas
Department of Criminal Justice's
Institutional Division with a candle
and prayers as the people of Texas
kill another one of my brothers.
There is a lot of attention being
given to the forthcoming execution
of Karla Faye Tucker, but little
notice has been directed toward
Lesly's case. I will be there for
both executions. Just as I have
been there for countless others. I
stand on the corner of 12th and I
street in my hometown of
Huntsville, Texas as an expression
of my opposition to killing. Killing
by anyone including the State is, I
believe, fundamentally wrong and
so I have spent a lot of time on
that corner and a lot of people
have asked me why I keep this
vigil.
My first response is always that it
is a particularly difficult vigil to
keep. It's hot on that corner
during the East Texas summers
and it gets cold sometimes during
February's freezing rains. But the
physical climate does not present
me with the primary difficulties
associated with my vigil. Instead,
it is the social climate that is most
depressing and sometimes quite
chilling. Popular culture, including
all forms of the media, presents an
image of a contemporary American
culture that overwhelmingly
approves of the death penalty with
Texans leading the way with
significantly greater proportions of
its citizens supposedly supporting
capital punishment.
It is depressing to me when the
news reporters ask me "Why do
you come out here when you know
that 90% of the people in Texas
support the death penalty?" First,
these people almost always
overstate the proportion of people
who support this penalty.
Scientific studies show that in
contemporary America, about 70%
of the adult population (18 years
of age or older) say "yes" when
they are asked if they support the
death penalty for the crime of
murder. Texans do not differ from
the rest of the nation with about
71% of them saying "yes" to the
same question (see Survey
Research Program at
http://www.shsu.edu/~icc_drl/ for
a summary of the results of
several studies regarding public
support for the death penalty both
in Texas and throughout the rest
of the nation). In general, studies
show that the proportion of people
who actually support the death
penalty varies significantly
depending on the different socio-
demographic backgrounds of the
groups being talked about.
Women and people of color tend
to be least likely to support the
death penalty and some studies
show that the more formal
education one has had, the less
likely they are to support the death
penalty. I try to remind the
reporters of these realities
whenever I get the chance but the
most significant lesson I try to
impart to them during my
"interviews" is that people in
general are not as strongly
supportive of the death penalty as
the simplistic figures noted above
might suggest.
Public opinion studies consistently
show that if people are asked
more specific questions about their
support for the death penalty, the
proportion of supporters begins to
drop significantly. For example,
numerous studies show that
considerably fewer people support
the death penalty when they know
that a "true life sentence without
the possibility for parole" is
available as a sentencing option.
In the 1997 Texas Crime Poll, only
about 58% of the adult population
say they would continue to support
the death penalty if a "true life
sentence" were available. Data
from other states show that
support for the death penalty
becomes even lower when you
include with the "true life
sentence" option the requirement
that the convicted murderer
perform some form of work during
his/her term of confinement and
contributes money toward a fund
that can be paid to the "secondary
victims" (family members and
loved ones of the murder victim)
of their crime.
It is depressing to me that the
popular media continues to
perpetuate the myth that we so
much support for the practice of
killing as a solution to our
"problems." American culture has
been condemned by some as
being a "culture of death" because
of the exceptionally high rates of
both criminal and "legal" killings.
Perhaps there is no surprise in the
revelation that the U.S. leads the
free world in murder as well as
executions. And if you include in
the definition of "legal" killings,
physician assisted suicides and
abortion, there are no other
nations that compare to our "legal
kill" ratio. And simplistic results
from public opinion surveys
reported by the popular media
consistently shows that the
majority of citizens supposedly
support the "legal killings." To say
that such conclusions are
"depressing" is an understatement
sometimes.
Although I can generate a
semblance of hope from knowing
the reality about the inconstancy
of the general public's support for
the death penalty , it is sometimes
chilling as I stand on the corner
and hear the jeers and songs of
praise for the killings shouted from
pick-up trucks driving by filled with
"death penalty supporters" who
stumble upon the vigil as they take
a short-cut to avoid traffic on the
main streets. Many of these
"supporters" are students
attending Sam Houston State
University, some of whom are in
my classes and some of whom
avoid my classes simply because I
stand on the corner. These "drive
by hecklers" are regulars at the
vigils and sometimes represent a
serious threat to those of us
standing in opposition to the
punishments.
A different kind of stress is
generated when there are death
penalty "supporters" standing on
the corner along with those of us
in opposition. On one dark cold
March morning, when the
executions were being conducted
immediately after 12:00 a.m.,
family members of the man being
executed had to be physically
restrained to keep them from
attacking an obviously inebriated
"supporter" who tried to get his
friends to join him in the chant
"Fry the Mother Fucker!" The
brother of the man being executed
was standing beside me while his
mother was inside the death
chamber, watching her youngest
son being put to death. From his
culture, what the "supporter" had
yelled required that he protect his
mother's reputation and without
the intervention of several of his
friends, there may have been
serious consequences following the
careless, drunken chant. I took
the opportunity to advise this
young man and his friends that
they were in serious jeopardy if he
continued to sing his little song. He
and his friends quickly
disappeared.
Hopeful Experiences on the Corner
of 12th and Avenue I
The interactions I have had while
standing on the corner have also
been positive and hopeful. I have
met lawyers who worked on the
cases of the men being executed
and stood beside them as they
wept in defeat while their clients
were being put to death. These
lawyers and countless others who
never make it to the corner give
me a sense of hope that there will
one day be an end to the death
penalty in the United States. On
an individual, case by case level,
their legal skills have helped to
save the lives of many people
some of whom have been
completely exonerated of the
crimes for which they were to be
executed. On a societal level, the
recent call from the American Bar
Association for a moratorium on
the use of the death penalty took
considerable courage and gives me
a renewed sense of respect and
faith in the legal profession.
On many occasions, I have been
joined on the corner by others who
share my general opposition to the
death penalty. Most consistent
has been the presence of members
of the Houston Chapter of the
Texas Coalition to Abolish the
Death Penalty. A group of seven
or eight of the Coalition's
membership often come to stage
their own vigil. Their style is quite
bold and confrontational, unlike
my own, but they are steadfast
abolitionists and from their general
work, I get a stronger sense of
hope that our common vision will
one day become a reality. There is
considerable diversity among the
abolitionist community as to why
and how to protest against the
death penalty. The common
vision, however, is clearly in
everyone's focus. And I believe
that anything that is the object of
so much faith filled attention will
one day become reality.
The final group of people giving
me hope as I stand on the corner
in my vigil consists of people from
outside of the United States who
are drawn to Huntsville because of
the execution process. This group
includes members of the foreign
media who frequently come
through Huntsville while working
on stories about the death penalty
for publication or broadcast in their
home countries. It also includes
people from foreign countries who
have become "pen pals" with men
on death row who are being
executed, official representatives
from international agencies and
organizations monitoring
allegations of human rights
violations, as well as members of
the foreign legal community who
come to see the place where so
many executions take place to
prove to themselves that what
they read about is real. Texas's
bold and forthright use of the
death penalty is of interest to the
international community for a wide
variety of reasons. What is
consistent among this group,
however, is a sense of disbelief
that a country as sophisticated as
the U.S. continues to hold so firmly
to the archaic practice of putting
its citizens to death under the
guise of justice. There is an
interesting irony in the fact that
the U.S. portrays itself to the
international community as a
leader in the pursuit of human
rights and justice and yet, it is that
same community that condemns
the U.S. for its continued reliance
on capital punishment. The U.S.
would not be eligible for
membership in the European
Council of Governments because
of its insistence on maintaining the
option to kill members of its
citizenry.
The confluence of experiences I
have had while standing on the
corner of 12th and I leave me with
a great hope that the death
penalty will be abolished from the
U.S. legal system sometime in the
not too distant future. I believe
that when the U.S. finally sets
aside the death penalty , it is going
to be because of the influence of a
myriad of different pressures but
that it will be the consistent,
vigilant gaze of horror from the
international community that will
cause an end to this practice once
and for all. I came to this belief
during the vigil against the death
penalty held during the execution
of Michael Sharp, one of the
leading forces behind the Lamp of
Hope Project. As I stood on the
corner that evening, I struggled
with the question "How can we
maintain any hope that things will
change?" The question of "hope"
was very present that evening and
a newspaper journalist from
Germany asked whether or not I
thought there would ever be an
end to the practice of capital
punishment in Texas. I started to
respond with cynicism and
skepticism about the possibility
and was stopped by my realization
that Michael Sharp's execution had
captured the attention of several
different members of the foreign
press and that one of the people
Michael called on to witness his
execution was a young lawyer
named Jean-Bernard Dahmoune
from France who is working on a
research project through the
University of Paris focusing on a
comparative analysis of the death
penalty movement in Europe vs.
the United States. I came to the
sudden realization that the
international community can
exercise considerable pressure on
the United States and responded
to the reporter's question
accordingly. Jean-Bernard has
subsequently assumed a role with
The Lamp of Hope Project working
to add an international dimension
to the group's work and it will not
surprise me to learn that one day,
he will be recognized as one of the
major forces behind the ultimate
abolition of the death penalty in
the U.S.A.
When Americans realize that the
rest of the free world is looking
toward us with horrid disbelief that
our actions are not consistent with
the fundamental values we
proclaim, we will be forced to
recognize that our system of
justice is not the place for an act
of vengeance to be played out.
And we will also be forced to
acknowledge that fear and
revenge are the only two real
"justifications" for the death
penalty setting aside any pretense
of deterrence, restitution, or
retributive justice. The critical eye
of our international neighbors will
compel us to reclaim a
commitment to the fundamental
principles of freedom, liberty, and
justice for all, even those amongst
us who have offended us most
severely. Paraphrasing the words
of Sister Helen Prejean's Prayer to
Abolish the Death Penalty, I feel
the pressure of the international
community compelling us as a
nation to "Expand and deepen our
hearts so that we may love as the
Lord loves, even those among us
who have caused the greatest pain
by taking life."
Friday, January 16, 1998 - 9:30am
I had to interrupt the writing of
this essay to give a television
interview about the Karla Faye
Tucker execution that is supposed
to be broadcast on The Today
Show. Immediately following the
interview, I went to the corner and
began my vigil during Lesly's
execution. I was alone during
most of the vigil but was joined at
the very end by two former
students, one of whom is a
member of the Texas Coalition.
Their presence was a reminder to
me that I need to keep a hopeful
attitude about the students I come
into contact with because some of
them are actively opposed to the
death penalty and others are at
least willing to reconsider their
positions in light of information
gleaned from my work as well as
the work of others who write
about capital punishment. We
stood together on the corner
together for a long time because
Lesly's execution was ultimately
"stayed" and it wasn't until 7:00
that we ended our vigil. Ironically,
we were informed that Lesly's
execution had "gone off as
scheduled" by the correctional
officer who had unwittingly
attended the vigil as an employee
of the State assigned to lift the
ribbon blocking public entry into
the TDCJ parking lot whenever a
vehicle was leaving. Each of us
went home confused because we
had never seen the witnesses
enter the Walls unit. The march of
the witnesses to and from the
execution chamber is the only way
those of us in vigil know what is
happening. When the witnesses
enter the Walls Unit, we know that
death is near. When they leave,
we know that it has come. This is
usually the only way those of us
involved in the vigil know when the
process has ended. On occasion
one or more of the witnesses will
come to the corner and tell about
their last moments with the
condemned man but this is rare
and usually only occurs when there
are other family members and
loved ones connected to the man
being executed who have joined in
the vigil because they have not
been able to actually witness the
execution. But there was no-one
connected to Lesly Gosch on this
particular evening and I assumed
that my attention had been
distracted by an interviewer when
the march of witnesses had taken
place so I returned home to
conclude this essay and to
continue my prayers for peace and
hope.
I awoke this morning and began
another ritualistic day for me with
a cup of coffee and the morning
edition of the Huntsville Item. My
attention was immediately drawn
to the headlines about a last
minute stay being granted to Lesly
and a somewhat "stayed" story
about how he had been returned
to the Ellis Unit pending the U.S.
Supreme Court's review of his
appeal. I was exhilarated by the
hope that Lesly and others might
be spared the ultimate sanction
based on the review of his case. I
was also angry that the
correctional officer had
misinformed us the evening
before. Immediately, however, my
anger was replaced with prayers of
joy that Lesly and those who had
come to be with him the evening
before could spend another day
together with hope that they will never have to experience another night like the evening of January 15th, 1998.
Lesly's case offers hope for all of us who stand in opposition to the death penalty. I pray that our collective vision will soon become a reality. The enlightenment that shines throughout the abolitionist community, including The Lamp of Hope project will one day prevail. I know it will.
by Dennis R. Longmire, PhD.
College of Criminal Justice
Sam Houston State University
Thursday, January 15, 1998 -
11:00 a.m.