Should We Kill? My Thoughts On The Death Penalty

Jesus was executed, as well as countless others throughout history.  Although Christians believe that was a necessary evil, looking at what was done to a man that had a reputation for kindness and advocating for the downtrodden, one is struck by the injustice and immorality of it.  Jesus wasn’t a murderer or a rapist or a thief.   Can anything justify the torture and execution of a man that committed no crime, other than irritating those in power? 

Even if looked at from the retributive theory, Jesus’ execution was not justified.  He did not commit murder, and Pilate most likely did not believe Jesus deserved the sentence he was given, but felt pressure at the time.  Thus, Jesus was executed.  The most famous of all retributive punishments is an illustration of all that can go wrong with the perspective that execution is acceptable. Although Christians know that Jesus had a path to walk, looking at this case apart from the religious aspects, it couldn’t have been more poorly justified.

Jesus’ crime, according to authorities, was treason, calling himself king.  For that he was beaten, tortured, and left to die on a cross.  The punishment did not fit the crime.  Those same words can be said about what sometimes happens in the halls of justice every day on every reach of the planet – outside forces, such as pressure in this particular case, influence the sentence.  It could be a court appointed attorney with no time to adequately prepare up against a highly motivated prosecutor, well practiced at manipulating a jury.  It could be a police force that has a tendency to toy with evidence.  It could be the color of the defendant’s skin in a courtroom full of people that don’t resemble him or her.  But, as we saw in the case of Jesus, people are not perfect and sentences don’t always match crimes.  This happens more than anyone would like to believe, and it is certain to continue happening.

As of this writing there is a man on death row in Texas, and he has been there for over two decades.  In his case, the prosecution had evidence they did not share with the defense that could have been pursued, and if it had been shared, could have very well impacted the outcome of the case.  This information is now known, documented and available to anyone who wants to see it, but Charles Mamou has had four attorneys over the last two decades who never located the information.  It wasn’t until an unpaid advocate came along and started researching the case that everything that had been there all along came to light.  It wasn’t a trivial tidbit, there was actually a rape kit discovered twenty years later that has physical evidence in it.  There were phone records of key witnesses who testified they were asleep.  The information was never shared with the defendant.  Mamou’s case is not an anomaly.  If you work with the incarcerated for any length of time, you will come to learn cases like his happen more than anyone would like to admit.

The argument that the number of lives saved from the use of capital punishment as a deterrent, is hard pressed if the true number of unfair prosecutions were tallied.  There is no way to even calculate them all accurately, as most cases are left unpursued in spite of questions left behind.  It is naivety that believes wrongful or over incarcerations are few in numbers and therefore a viable trade off.  From the beginning of time, and the execution of a man whose reputation has remained that of a ‘good man’ over hundreds of years, until today when you can walk in any well-populated death row facility and find people that have not had a hand in murder, we have gotten it wrong.  The numbers are greater than anyone would like to publicly acknowledge.

For the sake of argument, and although unarguable evidence has shown us differently from the beginning of time, we will pretend justice is always perfect.  We will overlook the imperfections and intentional mistakes along the way, such as the execution of Jesus, a good man.  Let’s say then, punishment should reflect the crime, an eye for an eye.  Yet, we have been getting it wrong one way or another from the beginning of time on that as well.  If it were truly to be an eye for an eye and a reflection of the crime, we would rob from robbers, we would rape rapists and we would murder murderers.  In the world of right and wrong and if we are going to make rules of order, you can’t compare apples to oranges.  A perfect system of an eye for an eye that punishes according to crime, can’t have exceptions to the rule.  What makes murder any different than rape? 

In our country, we execute people who have not actually had a hand in a murder, sometimes letting the actual ‘murderer’ receive a lesser sentence.  It is called the Law Of Parties, and people who have not had a hand in murder have been and will continue to be executed under it.  So, in the ‘eye for an eye’ thinking, we make exceptions for all cases except murder where we stand firm on taking a life for a life, while letting the rapists go unraped, and not only do we make exceptions, we make exceptions within the exceptions.  If a murderer has the right attorney and chooses to testify against other parties, involved or not, he betters his chances of not having to pay the price of murder with his life, making himself an exception, and in doing so, assists in the execution of an individual who played no part in the murder, creating another exception. The overall theory of justifying capital punishment under the ‘eye for an eye’ platform that justifies the act as the appropriate punishment has no foundation, as it is not even close to being uniformly performed and enforced.

To the argument that there is no equal punishment to the taking of a life other than the taking of a life, there is the nasty side of the argument that most like to sweep under the rug.  Let’s suppose that we never make mistakes, and the system is always fair, and we always execute the actual ‘murderer’, and not the driver of the murderer or the friend who was with the murderer on that particular evening and had no idea a murder was going to take place. In a perfect system, murder would be the appropriate choice, but should we require a murderer to murder themselves?  How do we accomplish taking a life without getting our own hands dirty?

When we get to the point when we are going to actually take a life, what justification can we use for our action of taking a life, and how are those who have a hand in the act absolved?  Does that call for more exceptions to the rules?  Is it acceptable to murder a person who we have ‘decided’ is guilty of murder, not necessarily guilty?  At this point, we have to embrace all the exceptions to all the rules that we have already established as acceptable, and accept those who are innocent, those wrongly accused, those who were involved but did not murder and those who actually did commit murder and lump them all together.  They are all equally ‘guilty of murder’, and we can only accomplish this if we have decided we are justified in killing an innocent person in the name of maintaining the death penalty.  So, we find ourselves having to pay people to then become murderers of the innocent as well as the guilty because of all the exceptions to the rules that have to be in place to maintain a death penalty.

It doesn’t end there.  According to our own policies and systems, involved parties are sometimes executed along with the actual murder or murderers.  One would have to label those who purposefully lead a person to the execution chamber, the one who voices the command to start the process, the actual medical personnel involved in the process as all parties to the taking of life of the guilty and innocent, we have determined that exception has to be made.  By our own standards, what about those who have fattened up the victim for the kill for over two decades, are they not a party to the murder?   Can it end there?  What of the prosecutor and his co-counsel?  What of the Judge and jury?  What of the defense counsel who did not bother to look for the evidence?  So, the actual taking of a life of someone like Charles Mamou, will have participation of countless people along the way, including some who simply turned a blind eye.  Should we include those who were informed before his execution but chose to proceed with the knowledge that his trial was unfair and did not provide all the information to the jury?

How many people have a hand in the murder of the innocent, in a society that endorses capital punishment?  How many people turned a blind eye to what was happening to Jesus when he was executed? Which brings us back to the religious justification, people often building their argument on words from the Bible, using their interpretation of segments to further their cause.  What can be certain about the teachings of Jesus was his call for love, mercy, and compassion.  Portions of the bible can be picked out to justify murder, but there is no strong case for it, not nearly as strong as Jesus’ teaching of loving your neighbor and turning the other cheek.  Who are you to condemn?  Although the execution might be punishment of the murderer, who is to say that vengeance is not God’s?  I’d much prefer to err on the side of caution, and not hold someone down in an execution chamber and pump poison into their veins, assuming that vengeance is mine.  Using religion as an argument to justify murder is at best a stretch, at worst a mockery. 

So, what of the argument that there is only one punishment called for when a person walks into a movie theater and starts shooting, murdering fifty innocent people before being taken into custody before witnesses.  Death, surely, is the only choice. That is the strongest argument I have heard, and I appreciate the sentiment and desire, yet, it is not that simple.  It comes full circle, back to the beginning.  We have a system that has been proven unjust repeatedly since the execution of Jesus. Influence brought about his execution, not any action on his part.  The ramifications of leaving the door open in the name of our hypothetical deranged murderer who murdered fifty in cold blood in front of witnesses needs to be considered.  The system doesn’t just end with his execution.  Let’s say we all want that one man dead.  At what cost?  We have an unfair system, influenced by power, money, race, and, believe it or not, sometimes bad intentions.  The system is run by humans, both good and bad.  The price to pay for leaving the door open to execute our theater murderer, is, in part, the lives of the innocent lost, the humanity of the officers who have spent a decade with the individual they have worked around and know is innocent and a good man, and the future resentment of the children of the innocent man who in turn possibly become murderers because of an unjust system.   By leaving the door open for our theater murderer, we are leaving the door open to the mistakes that have been and will continue to be made, along with the unjust on-purposes, and the chain reaction of it all.

The death penalty is not cost-effective.  It cannot be justified by religion.  It makes murderers out of innocent people.  It has and will continue to be used to kill people who have not committed murder.  It does not make us safer by taking mass murderers off the streets, when that person is already removed from the streets. It does not deter the mentally ill or suicide bombers or people determined to inflict pain.  The death penalty leaves the door open to all that can and does go wrong and has no moral justification.  There is a heavy moral price to pay for maintaining a method of disposing of our movie theater madman.  

“But, what does my innocence matter?  Where did it get me but a bus ride to prison while shackled both by ankles and spirit to a dread that becomes so unbearable – death is a welcome resolve.  How relevant is innocence to time long gone and opportunities forever missed, when your dignity is in a shambles, you’ve been stripped of your identity and you have nothing left to call your own but an Opus number.  With no pride left for which to hide behind, to admit wrongdoing would not be so difficult – the hardest thing to do is continue proclaiming my innocence.” – Terry Robinson, Death Row, NC

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Happy Elation Day Falls On December 29

Holidays are often lost on the incarcerated, memories of a time lost that many may never find again.  Often, I find myself saddened by a cheerful Christmas spirit, or thoughts of a Thanksgiving feast, sad because right now I can only pretend that not being with loved ones and family doesn’t hurt, knowing they are missing me too.

Yet, I find myself celebrating a more unorthodox day, my own little holiday.  It may be meaningless to most, but it means the world to me.  I have found a day I will always celebrate, a day I can smile for, a day that I take stock of all that I am grateful for. On that day, I always eat a big meal of whatever I can scrounge out of my box, all with great joy and happiness. 

What is this day I find solace in?  To that I say – what comes after a sentence?  For many of us, the correct answer is appeals.   My special day of celebration is connected to my appeals.  It is a day that gave me another chance at life.  I won my 35(c) Ineffective Assistance of Counsel and my Rule 33 Motion For A New Trial on December 29, 2017.  This is my Christmas, my New Year, all my holidays rolled into one. 

I won’t poison my celebration with all the legalities, the ‘should haves’, ‘what ifs’ and everything else that I might not still agree with.  I don’t want to take away from or diminish my special holiday in any way. All that matters to me is that on December 29, 2017, my 198 year prison sentence had the door opened, and I was given a chance at life again.  Turning 198 years into twenty is something worth celebrating, let me tell you.

Due to my newly found personal holiday, maybe the orthodox holidays will some day feel special again.  Maybe one day I will be ‘that guy’ with the annoying overly cheerful Christmas spirit, or have a Thanksgiving feast, and maybe some day somebody will make me their Valentine.  One day, I’ll be able to draw designs in the air with sparklers and hide  Easter eggs in the neighborhood.

One day, I’ll be able to do all of that, but for me, my favorite holiday will always be Elation Day, December 29. 

ABOUT THE WRITER.  Mr. Kenyon is currently living behind bars. He’s had a positive impact on his furry friends there, and hopes to one day impact lives on the other side of the bars. I have confidence Mr. Kenyon will succeed at whatever he aspires to do. Joshua Kenyon can be contacted at:
Joshua Kenyon #150069
21000 Hwy 350 E
Model, CO 81059

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The Painting

Once a tear has fallen
The pain is hard to hide.
Expression of emotion
Of feelings deep inside.

A natural reaction
To entombment of the heart,
Unexpected revolution of
Humans’ purest art.

The art of self-expression,
Painting on your face. 
You draw out your perception
Of a dark and lonely place.

Through tenderness and passion
You begin to see a light,
A spark of inspiration,
A beacon in the night.

Reclamation of one’s self,
When all the tears have dried.
The moment of realization
You’ve forgotten why you cried.

ABOUT THE WRITER.  Robert Neibler enjoys writing poetry and this is his first contribution to WITS.  He hopes to one day compile a book of poetry.  Mr. Neibler can be contacted at:

Robert Neibler #399870
Baraga Correctional Facility
13924 Wadaga Road
Baraga, MI  49908

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The Things That Remain

Some tragedies are gradual, prolonging dismay, others swift and unexpected, yet loss in any form effects in us a void that can only be filled with time.  It is loss to which we are all akin, regardless of status, color or creed, none excluded from the woeful affliction all of humankind will suffer.  Tear-stained cheeks, fine suits and condolences are the soothing, necessary etiquette, after which we look to move on – but occasionally we find we can’t.

Chris was a childhood friend I grew up with on Fountain Drive, a project housing development set on the outskirts of town.  There were no ills of the inner-city there, like drugs and prostitution.  Sequestered by fields and lush greenery, we were burgeoning country folk.  We scoured ditches for crayfish, climbed trees to pick wild berries, and explored the far reaches of the surrounding woods where we carved out a world all our own.

A favorite pastime was the community football game.  Narrow eyes stared across a makeshift field as we rivaled one another.   We tackled, grappled, and cussed with fervor to demonstrate our toughness, but in the end we always left as friends, looking forward to carrying on the next day.

It was the older kids in the neighborhood that first ganged up on Chris – my brother and his closest friends.  It was an assault that came without merit as Chris had committed no offense.  Instead of contesting their egregious violation, Chris up and ran away, unaware the flight-mode mentality would begin a lifelong recurrence.

Although a rural bubble, Fountain Drive was not the easiest place to live. No one qualified for low-income housing more than single mothers and senior citizens, and with many of our moms off working to improve their conditions and the elderly nestled up to their daytime television shows, we ran around mostly unsupervised and growing unrulier by the day.

We had petty differences, some escalating to fist fights, that seldom outlasted the day.  We ransacked the neighborhood community center and egged each other on to steal.  Everything from throwing rocks at passing cars to prank calling the fire department, our mischief knew no bounds, yet nothing would ignite our frenzy more than chasing after Chris.

Chris, himself, was a passive misfit – just barely on the right side of wrong.  His misdeeds were rather frivolous, swiping an item from a clothesline or lifting coins for his mother’s purse.  He was never one to talk trash, though his size was intimidating enough.  At ten, he was a head taller than most teenagers, and by thirteen, he was the same age as his shoe size.  With shoulders as wide as a welcome embrace and powerful legs that were the getting-away kind, we stood almost no chance of catching him, yet we were thrilled to try.

Chris, however, was a gentle soul.  He was thoughtful and forgiving, and usually, within a day or so, he was back amongst the clique.  Despite his hulking size, he had a boyish quality that was much more fun to keep around, and over time, our betrayals became less frequent, until we no longer chased him away. 

By fifteen, Chris’ interests had matured, and he began to venture outside the neighborhood to other parts of town.  It was courting girls that had procured his attention, and he thought to visit them whenever possible. However, as we had long given up chasing Chris, other kids from around town had just begun, until it seemed that bullying Chris was the most expected thing to do.

Once, I witnessed him fleeing from some guys – but did nothing in the way of help, afraid I was a word in his defense away from being bullied myself.  Chris, though, had an impeccable reputation for outpacing his foes, as many of his aggressors gave chase for sport, all except one… Mikey.

A local badass who favored drinking and fighting, Mikey was the epitome of trouble.  He was the guy the other bullies steered clear of.  It was a brisk night outside a nightclub when Mikey set his sights on Chris – but this time, there would be no running away.  Instead, Chris fought back.

As it turned out, Chris didn’t run all those years because he was fearful – it was a method of harm prevention.  He figured as long as he didn’t hurt anyone today, things would be better tomorrow.  He ran away because he was being a better friend to us than we ever were to him.  Unlike Mikey, who was ruthless – not to mention a sore loser.

Some few nights later while walking home alone, Chris spotted a suspicious vehicle.   He discovered that it was Mikey, along with some friends.  Outnumbered, Chris had little choice but to flee, taking cover behind some houses as Mikey stepped out of the car with a gun and fired a shot in the dark.  Assuming Chris was long gone, Mikey and his crew sped off, unaware the bullet had hit its mark as Chris lay dying in the night.

It wasn’t until the next morning his body was discovered, entangled in the brush.  Chris had been killed at just sixteen…  and I never got to say, ‘I’m sorry’.

Regrets, juxtapose to loss, are the things that remain, the stuff of good memories, shared experiences, and lost opportunities.  After 32 years, it’s regrets that have kept Chris alive in my heart, and without which, I fear I will lose one of the best people I ever knew.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:  Terry Robinson often writes under the pen name ‘Chanton’, and is a member of the Board of Directors of WITS. He is an author who has found purpose not only in his love of writing, but also in lending his voice to those who cannot speak for themselves. He is also an innocent man who has lived on death row for over 20 years. Terry continues to work on his memoirs, as well as a book of fiction, and we are proud to call him a member of this team.

Mr. Robinson can be contacted at:
Terry Robinson #0349019
Central Prison
4285 Mail Service Center
Raleigh, NC 27699-4285

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