Oct. 25 TEXAS: Execution date set for student's killer The execution of a Willis man convicted of killing a 19-year college student almost 16 years ago has been scheduled for Jan. 24. Montgomery County state District Judge Fred Edwards last week signed a death warrant for Larry Swearingen. A jury found Swearingen guilty of capital murder June 28, 2000, in the death of Melissa Trotter of Willis. Prosecutors said Swearingen, an electrician, abducted Trotter from Montgomery County College on Dec. 8, 1998. He then sexually assaulted and strangled her before dumping her body in the Sam Houston National Forest, they said. Hunters found Trotter's body on Jan. 2, 1999. *************** Prisoners organize against barbaric conditions----Texas death row: Cruel and unusual LILY HUGHES reports on the cruel reality of the Texas execution machine--and the challenge coming from death row itself. "I DIDN'T do it." Those were the words that Michael Dewayne Johnson scrawled in his own blood as he died from a self-inflicted slashed neck--hours before he was scheduled to be put to death in the Texas death chamber. Johnsons horrific suicide highlights the physical and mental cruelty inflicted on the men and women on death row in America's execution capital. Since the reinstatement of capital punishment in 1977, Texas has accounted for over one-third of all executions carried out in the U.S. The number of executions throughout the U.S. and in Texas gas been on a downward trend for the past several years, but the Texas execution machine still runs at an assembly-line pace, with one execution running up against another some months. Johnson was to be the 22nd execution victim in Texas this year--put to death for a murder that he insisted was committed by another man charged in the crime, who testified against Johnson and is free today after serving eight years in prison. What you can do Contact these officials and demand better conditions for inmates on Texas death row: -- Polunsky Unit Wardens: Warden Massey and Asst. Warden Hirch, 3872 F.M. 350 South, Livingston, TX 77351, 936-967-8082 (ask for the warden's office) -- Texas Board of Criminal Justice Chair: Christina Melton Crain, 5521 Greenville Ave., Suite 104-944, Dallas, TX 75206 -- Texas Gov. Rick Perry: 800-252-9600 Come to the March to Stop Executions in Austin, Texas, on October 28, 2006. Marchers will gather at 3 p.m. on October 28 at the Texas governor's mansion, between 10th and 11th Streets on Lavaca, then march to Austin City Hall Plaza for a rally. The Texas Moratorium Network Web site has additional information. What else you can read The DRIVE movement's Web site contains extensive information on resistance actions on death row and what people can do to support the struggle. The Texas death row hunger strikers statement outlines their motivations and demands. The Campaign to End the Death Penalty's New Abolitionist newsletter contains regular coverage of the struggle in Texas and around the country. For an inside look at the Texas death penalty system, read Within These Walls: Memoirs of a Death House Chaplain, by Rev. Carroll Pickett, who bore witness to the state-sponsored murder of nearly 100 prisoners in Texas. But in the face of this barbarism, death row prisoners in Texas are organizing against brutal and inhumane conditions. Six prisoners are on a hunger strike that is close to a month old, and another group--which calls itself DRIVE, or Death Row Inner-Communalist Vanguard Engagement--is gaining recognition for its campaign of resistance from on death row. Much of the grievances are focused on conditions on the Polunsky Unit--the "state-of-the-art" prison in Livingston, Texas, where death row was moved in 1999. In the new facility, inmates live in 23-hour administrative segregation inside 60-square-foot cells with sealed steel doors. They have lost all group recreation, work programs, television access and religious services. There are also no contact visits allowed at Polunsky. Prisoners are only allowed one 5-minute phone call every six months, their mail is often censored, the quality of food is low, and they have inadequate health and dental services. This intolerable situation has prompted some prisoners to organize for better conditions--and to link their fight to the larger struggle against the death penalty. The 5 DRIVE members--Kenneth Foster Jr., Rob Will, Gabriel Gonzalez, Reginald Blanton and Da'mon Simpson--say in their Web site statement that they are committed to "non-violently protest against this inhumane scheme called the Death Penalty." Protest tactics include distributing literature, addressing their issues with guards, and occupying day rooms, showers and visitation chambers. Prisoners are encouraged to protest on days when executions are scheduled, and to protest against their own executions by refusing to walk to the van that takes them to the Ellis Unit, where executions still take place; refusing last meals; and refusing to walk to the execution chamber. As Gabriel Gonzalez puts it in his diary, "Many times, we have addressed the problems with conditions and suggested reasonable solutions to the problems, which would not cause any breaches in the security of the prison, nor cost the state any money--but to no avail, because our verbal and written grievances fell on the deaf, indifferent ears of a sadistic administration that enjoys torturing and treating us like any thing but human. "Yet how do you physically, psychologically and spiritually torture and treat people like animals and expect them to act civil and humane? Those of us here who still have a sense of self and humanity have had enough of the state-induced carnage and the brutal rape of our human rights and constitutional rights! Therefore, with this nonviolent protest, we have drawn a line and decided to physically and nonviolently resist the oppression." Meanwhile, 6 other death row prisoners have been on hunger strike since October 5. The men--Travis Runnels, Steven Woods, Richard Cobb, Kevin Watts, Justin Hall and Stephen Moody--intend to stay on hunger strike until January 1. "For the past several years, I and a few hundred others have been living out what can easily be called a nightmare," explained Steven Woods. "After the injustice of being sentenced to death by a corrupt legal system, we are shorn of our dignity and our identity, caged and treated like animals. We spend these years stored in the Polunsky Unit in a segregated housing facility that has been designed to house over 500 people in a complete indefinite isolation." The hunger strikers' demands include better meals, cell maintenance, adequate health care and proper hygienic and laundry necessities. They are also calling for a halt to the excessive punitive measures used against death row prisoners, especially those making protests. One of the worst retaliatory practices used on protesting prisoners is gassing. Prisoners occupying day rooms and other areas are met by SWAT teams that use tear gas and pepper spray to remove them. One of the hunger strikers, Steven Woods was gassed on October 9. "A smoke grenade was dropped on the outside yard, which filled it to the top with smoke," DRIVE member Kenneth Foster wrote in his diary. "Steve endured that, and no less than 10 minutes later, another was dropped...My god, we thought theyd killed him. All this for a man who weighs 140 pounds. This was an overuse of chemical agent. I truly believe they are trying to kill us with the gas." That these prisoners are wiling to endure this abuse to fight for their basic human rights should be a wake-up call to the people of Texas and to the world. They need our support. "We are neither violent or passive," writes Foster. "We are combative. We are resisters. We are diverse activists, but more than anything else may we be looked upon as men that embraced the sacredness of life and sought to assert the full measure of their humanity in the face of those that would seek to destroy it." (source: Socialist Worker ONline) ************************************* Commissioners approve DA's plan to add prosecutors----Additions will help ease growing caseload that has increased turnover District Attorney Chuck Rosenthal's push for more prosecutors paid off Tuesday as Harris County Commissioners Court unanimously approved his plan to add 55 people within 2 years. The newcomers will include 49 prosecutors, four investigators and 2 fraud analysts. "It's like a weight taken off my chest, that we have a way to address the problem," said First Assistant District Attorney Bert Graham. The additions will help to ease a growing caseload that has increased the turnover rate in the office, which currently has 235 prosecutors, he said. "It's like a bucket that's just overflowing," Graham said of criminal case filings, which increased by 15 percent in the first half of 2006 over the same period in 2005. He would not, however, blame the increase on any one cause. Rosenthal has declined to link the rise in crime to evacuees from the New Orleans area, saying his office treats everyone the same, regardless of where they're from. Under the normal attrition rate, the District Attorney's Office hires about 25 lawyers a year, Graham said. He said the office will be able to maintain that rate, as well as hire 49 prosecutors within 2 years. The addition of the new personnel is expected to add a maximum of $6.3 million to the $40 million budgeted annually for salaries and benefits in the District Attorney's Office. That money will come out of the county's general operating budget, said Dick Raycraft, director of management services and budget. The salary range for a prosecutor is $51,468 to $115,000. County Judge Robert Eckels said the increase in crime and its effect on the district attorney's caseload were factors in gaining approval. Commissioners also cleared the County Attorney's Office to add three lawyers and five administrative assistants in the child protective division, at a maximum annual cost of more than $678,000. (source: Houston Chronicle) *********************** Jurors hear about 'piles' of bodies in driver's trial----The paramedic describes arriving at the scene where immigrants died A paramedic stumbled into a trailer with bodies stacked 5 deep while responding to the horrific evidence of a failed immigrant-smuggling attempt, she told a jury Tuesday in the trial of truck driver Tyrone Williams. There were "piles and piles of dead bodies," said Capt. Donna Odem-Dollins, a Victoria Fire Department paramedic. Odem-Dollins and another firefighter sifted through the victims, checking for signs of life, and found the body of a 5-year-old boy at the bottom, she said under questioning by Assistant U.S. Attorney Jeff Vaden. Paramedics found 4 victims still alive, 2 of whom survived, she said. In all, 19 illegal immigrants died after being packed into Williams' trailer on May 13, 2003, to be smuggled past a U.S. Border Patrol checkpoint. About 100 riders had been sealed into the trailer in Harlingen, near the Mexican border, but Williams never turned on the refrigeration unit, according to testimony. Odem-Dollins was one of the first emergency workers to arrive at the Exxon Speedy Stop truck stop in Victoria, where Williams had unhooked his trailer and fled in a panic early on May 14. First trial Williams, a 35-year-old legal Jamaican immigrant from Schenectady, N.Y., first stood trial in March 2005, but a jury failed to reach a verdict. He again faces 58 smuggling counts, 20 of which could carry the death penalty. Odem-Dollins said she could see bloody marks where the passengers had clawed away insulation inside the trailer to poke out 2 taillights in a desperate attempt to get air. Autopsies showed the victims had suffered from dehydration, suffocation and hyperthermia. Deputy arrives at scene Victoria County sheriff's Cpl. Roman Goodwine said he and another deputy were the first emergency personnel at the truck stop after receiving a call that "a killing was going on." Goodwine said he arrived at 2:27 a.m. and saw 3 bodies on the ground near the trailer. He said he saw victims inside, twitching on top of a pile of people streaked with vomit. Behind the pile, he said, he saw at least 8 people naked or in their underwear. Also Tuesday, a member of the Army Reserve testified that he saw arms sticking out of 2 holes in the rear of the trailer as he drove on Texas 77. Scott Reuter, 27, of San Antonio, said he drove to Kingsville and called for help, but the dispatcher didn't take him seriously and police were never dispatched. Prosecutors are seeking the death penalty against Williams, saying he ignored his passengers' plight and could have saved their lives by turning on the trailer's refrigeration unit. Defense grills witness Defense attorney Craig Washington hopes to convince jurors that the one who is truly responsible for the deaths is Abelardo Flores, a key prosecution witness. But Flores eluded Washington's attempts to lay blame on him during nearing three hours of cross-examination. Washington told jurors Monday that Flores knew that more than 100 people were crammed inside Williams' truck. He said Flores closed the doors and ordered Williams to bypass the original drop-off point and proceed to Houston, turning a 45-minute journey into a 3 1/2 -hour nightmare. Flores has acknowledged hiring Williams to haul the immigrants but denied that he closed the doors or that he gave the order that increased the journey's length. In a combative exchange, he insisted that Williams was responsible for the deaths because he failed to turn on the refrigeration unit. "He chose on his own to go somewhere else," Flores said. "It is his fault." He said he asked Williams twice to turn on the cooler. "If it was on, those people wouldn't have died," Flores said. Flores, 37, of Harlingen, pleaded guilty to a smuggling-conspiracy charge and is awaiting sentencing. (source for both: Houston Chronicle) ************** Body found in landfill, police believe its missing teen Authorities on Tuesday discovered mummified remains they believe belong to a 16-year-old girl missing for more than 2 years. The remains, found in a landfill, are thought to be those of Joanna Rogers. She went missing from her Lubbock County home in May 2004. Physical evidence found at the scene, including long red hair, make authorities confident the remains are hers. Investigators will use dental records and possibly DNA to identify the remains. The search began about 2 months ago after Rogers' disappearance was linked to Rosendo Rodriguez III, 26, late last year. "It's going to bring a lot of closure to a lot of folks," Kathy Rogers, the teen's mother, said in the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal's online edition Tuesday. "It's not going to be only us who are crying tonight." Last fall, Rodriguez was arrested and charged with capital murder in connection with the beating death of 29-year-old Summer Baldwin, whose body was found in a suitcase at the same landfill about 15 miles north of Lubbock. She was 5 weeks pregnant at the time of her death. Detectives tracked the suitcase back to Rodriguez through store purchase records, according to police reports. During the investigation into Baldwin's death, police uncovered information on Rodriguez's computer that linked him to Rogers and subsequently named him as a suspect in her disappearance. No charges have been filed against Rodriguez in Rogers' death. During a court hearing about a week ago, Rodriguez claimed he didn't understand the proceedings dealing with a plea agreement he and his attorney had worked out with prosecutors months earlier. The agreement called for Rodriguez to plead guilty to killing Rogers and Baldwin in exchange a life sentence. Prosecutors have withdrawn the offer and have said they plan to seek the death penalty. (source: Associated Press) FLORIDA----execution Danny Rolling is executed Danny Rolling was executed this evening, more than 16 years after he committed five grisly murders that terrorized the college community in Gainesville. After a final appeal was rejected, Rolling was strapped to a gurney and injected with a lethal cocktail of drugs. He was declared dead at 6:13 p.m. Earlier today, the U.S. Supreme Court turned down his final appeal, a challenge to the constitutionality of the chemicals used in Florida's execution procedure that has failed before the court in other cases. Justices Stephen Breyer and John Paul Stevens voted to grant the stay of execution, the court said in a 3-sentence order. Corrections Department spokesman Robby Cunningham said Rolling, 52, was calm and cooperative ahead of his execution. Before being moved to a cell next to the death chamber at Florida State Prison, Rolling visited with his brother Kevin, and his brother's pastor Jim Wallingworth, Cunningham said. Rolling ate his last meal shortly before noon. "He enjoyed his last meal. He ate every bite," Cunningham said. The victims' families ran an advertisement Thursday in The Gainesville Sun, thanking the community for its support: "We hope you will remember August 1990 and the years that followed without any sense of community shame for what has happened here. You turned a blemish into a rose." The lives of 5 young college students were violently cut short by Rolling's rage. Sonja Larson of Deerfield Beach. Christina Powell of Jacksonville. Christa Hoyt of Archer. Tracy Paules of Miami. Manuel Taboada of Carol City. After the largest and costliest manhunt in Florida history, Rolling -- a man previously considered a common criminal -- would be exposed as one of the nation's most notorious serial killers. Rolling was the 63rd inmate to be put to death since Florida resumed executions in 1979 and the 3rd this year. He is the 259th since 1924, when the state took over the duty from individual counties. More than 100 protesters gathered near dozens of death penalty supporters, curious onlookers and journalists on the barren cow pasture across from the prison where Rolling, 52, was scheduled to be executed by lethal injection. Rolling was convicted of the 1990 hunting-knife slayings of five college students. "They're doing a good thing," said Randy Hicks, a 35-year-old Lake Butler truck driver and former prison guard who occasionally watched over Rolling. "This guy deserves it. It's very overdue." Death penalty opponents, who were cordoned off in a separate area by police tape, said the execution only served to provide Rolling additional attention. One group briefly held hands in a circle and sang quietly. "The state of Florida is giving this psychopathic killer just what he wanted," said Mark Elliott of Clearwater, spokesman for Floridians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. "He will now enjoy celebrity status courtesy of a high profile state execution. Lock him up, throw away the key and let him die alone and unremembered." Rolling becomes the 47th condemened inmate to be put to death this year in the USA and the 1051st overall since the nation resumed executions on January 17, 1977. (sources: Associated Press & Rick Halperin) ************************************ Messages from a mass murderer After 4,571 days on death row, Danny Rolling is set to die tonight for the grisly murders of 5 Gainesville college students. He leaves 1,700 pages of prison documents - a pile of handwritten pleas and doodles and terse records detailing his daily routine. In them, there is no hint of remorse, no trace of sorrow or guilt. No mention of the young women he tortured, bound, raped and savagely murdered or the young man who bravely tried to defend himself. Instead, there is incessant whining about not being able to see his fiance. There is oily pandering to prison officials for favors. There are grievances about his paints being taken away, his mail being damaged and the horrific book he co-wrote about the killings being banned. There is a relentless, calculated effort to earn himself more notoriety, peppered with bizarre platitudes to prison wardens. There is, in that 9-inch-thick stack of paper, the worst humanity has to offer. Rolling's tenure on death row began April 20, 1994, nearly 4 years after the horrific crimes shocked and terrified Gainesville. >From Aug. 24 to 27, 1990, Rolling went on a killing spree. He left crime scenes so shocking that he refused to look at the photographs in court. Rolling's 1st victim was Sonja Larson. After stabbing her in the back, as he would all his female victims, he went for Larson's roommate, tying and taping Christina Powell. After telling Powell he would return to kill her, Rolling went to the kitchen and ate an apple and a banana. On Aug. 25, he murdered Christa Hoyt, who was alone in her apartment. She was decapitated, her head placed on a bookshelf, her body posed sitting on the edge of a bed. Two nights later, Rolling murdered Manuel Taboada, then attacked and raped his roommate Tracy Paules. He posed her nude body in a doorway. Several of the victims' family members plan to watch Rolling get the lethal injection at 6 p.m. today at Florida State Prison in Starke. "It is very hard for us to see someone else die," Diana Hoyt, the stepmother of Christa Hoyt, told reporters. "But he deserves it." Woman's visit led to romance Rolling had been imprisoned at Florida State Prison, home to Florida's execution chamber, on other charges while awaiting trial for the 1990 murders. His file reveals he tried to hang himself in June 1992. A year later, another inmate accused him of planning an escape during a trip to court. A report says Rolling "was planning an escape, and had to kill staff to effect the escape." Rolling denied it. On Feb. 5, 1993, Rolling got a visit from Sondra London, a self-proclaimed writer and producer who had visited other killers. She told prison officials her visit to Rolling was as a friend. Prison officials learned it was really a business meeting. London was barred from ever seeing Rolling again. In response, the two began a letter-writing campaign to prison officials, professing their love and begging for visitation privileges. "I have been denied the right to marry the woman I love. ... I have been denied the right to be able to visit with my fiance," Rolling wrote in a grievance in June 1993. "We only want to marry and visit each other quietly once a week. Is that too much to ask?" Three years later Rolling was still at it, and each note is in his file. "I need encouragement and support from a friendly face," he wrote. "Please give this some thought." After Rolling finally accepted that prison officials wouldn't budge, he asked that other women be allowed to visit. 9 did over the years, most professing their affection and pity for Rolling. One sent rose petals. Another wanted to send a "goody bag" for Rolling's 50th birthday. Still another wanted to send a monogrammed shirt. London even tried to send hair to her betrothed. The hair and rose petals were denied. Organic matter cannot be sent to inmates. And countless other mailings from London were rejected. When officials barred her from sending Rolling a copy of the book she co-wrote with him - a book that graphically described his killing spree - she tried sending it to Rolling a chapter at a time. Rolling filed another grievance. "I wrote the book in question," Rolling wrote. "It's in my own words. I know what's in it." London also tried to send drawings of dismembered bodies. A prison official answered: "I find the illustrations of people being dismembered, tortured, or mutilated as obscene." Rolling's art for sale on Internet Then there was Rolling's art, which is now for sale on the Internet, along with the drawings, letters and paintings of other serial killers. Among his patrons is Merle Allin, bassist for the shock punk band Murder Junkies, who also owns the art of murderers John Wayne Gacy, Henry Lee Lucas and Richard Ramirez. Allin began writing Rolling in 1988 after Rolling's book The Making of a Serial Killer was published. "We became good friends right away," Allin wrote on his site. Allin and his girlfriend visited Rolling at Florida State Prison in 2001. "We had a great time," Allin wrote. "We are still close friends and he is our favorite death row artist. We are still collecting his work." Prison officials say there will be more than 24 witnesses to his death - 12 media witnesses, 12 citizens and members of the victims' families. They declined to say what Rolling has asked for his last meal or who will claim his body. They do know how he wants to spend his last hour: in a closely supervised visit with Mike Hudspeth, a Pentecostal minister from Shreveport, La., Rolling's hometown. Rolling's brother, Kevin, also will be allowed to see him today. His appeals lawyer, Baya Harrison, visited him Tuesday. "He was remarkably calm," Harrison said, adding that Rolling told him: "I don't want to die, but it looks like I'm going to die." (source: Palm Beach Post) *********************** Rolling's death poses essential questions 16 years ago, Danny Rolling killed 5 UF and SFCC students. He raped some, mutilated others and posed his victims' bodies to heighten the ghoulish effect of his crime scenes. The murders were nightmarish, surreal - in fact, Rolling always seemed more like a B-movie clich?a lunatic drifter out of central casting, than a flesh-and-blood human being. Today he faces the sharp end of a government needle. Without a last-minute reprieve, he'll be dead by 6:15 p.m. No one will shed a tear for Rolling - not the Alligator, not the student body and especially not the victims' families. They waited 16 years for this moment, almost the span of their loved ones' short lives, hoping to find some closure. Maybe they will. But I won't rejoice in Rolling's death. I can't. For all his crimes, all his monstrous indifference to human feeling, he's still a person - a member of our species, whether we like it or not. Tonight, in a small room in Bradford County, armed guards will strap him to a table and kill him. It's easy to oppose capital punishment when the man with the needle in his arm is an abstraction - a mug shot on the nightly news, a name in the morning paper. But when you see him up close, specifically, when he stops being one of 376 inmates on death row and becomes the one they're executing tonight, you want to push the plunger yourself. It should be the other way around. But somehow it's not. And so it is with Rolling. Like all murderers, he has victims, innocent people with families who miss them and want justice. But he's not like the other men in Florida State Prison, not really. They killed cops, cheating lovers, gas station clerks - sometimes brutally, sometimes in cold blood, but not for kicks, for whimsy. Their offenses are in a different league. In so many ways, Rolling stands alone, a test case for the death penalty. His guilt is beyond doubt. His crimes are heinous - even now, a decade and a half later, they've lost none of their power to shock and sicken. Worst of all, he shows no signs of genuine remorse. For once, the truism holds up: If anyone deserves a lethal injection, it's Danny Rolling. But after the doctors pronounce him dead, after the reporters go home and everyone moves on to the next outrage, will we have gained anything by Rolling's execution? His victims will still be dead. Their families will still face the unfathomable task of living without them. And long after Rolling has faded into anonymity, we'll still know that men like him are made of the same stuff as us - the same blood, the same guts. It's an ugly fact that no syringe can ever change. We want him to die - I want him to die - because his existence is an obscenity, an affront to our humanity. But killing him won't make us clean again. So tonight, when the state hauls Rolling out of his cage and finishes him off, ask yourself: What is this supposed to accomplish? (source: Editorial, Jake Ramsey is the Opinions editor of the (Univ. Fla.) Alligator) ******************** THE 1990 GAINESVILLE STUDENT MURDERS----Celebrating a life and a deathFriends gathered to remember Tracy Paules, 1 of 5 students murdered in Gainesville in 1990. The killer is scheduled to be executed today. A TOAST: Laurie Lahey, Tracy Paules' sister, celebrates her sister's memory with friends at Gatsby's in Davie on Monday. The victims Sonja Larson, 18, of Deerfield Beach. Christina Powell, 17, of Jacksonville. Christa Hoyt, 19, of Gainesville. Manny Taboada, 23, of Carol City. Tracy Paules, 23, of Palm Springs North. Instead of the graduation party, the wedding, all the birthdays she had coming, Tracy Paules got this: a little thing put on by old friends; beer and champagne in the bar's back room to celebrate the impending execution of the man who murdered her. She was 23, homecoming queen at Northwest Miami-Dade's American Senior High, about to attend her first day of classes at the University of Florida. She would have been 40 this month. The friends at the party were closing in on 40, too, or just past. They'd done well for themselves. They looked happy. They were looking forward to tonight, when Danny Rolling is to be executed. 16 years ago in Gainesville, Rolling murdered Paules and 4 others; raped some; beheaded 1; later confessed to it all. Now the friends prepared to toast. ''It was her first night in that apartment. It was Sunday night -- Monday was going to be her first day of school,'' Lisa Buyer said. This was earlier, when Buyer, Jill Brock and Tommy Carroll were reminiscing over coffee at a Deerfield Beach diner. They'd grown up together in Palm Springs North, gone to the same schools, spent summers at the rec center run by Paules' mother, afternoons in Brock's garage. FINAL PHONE CALL But when her friends went on to college, Paules stayed behind and took a job as a paralegal to earn tuition money. When she got to UF, she was older and perhaps more serious than her fellow freshmen, already decided on a career as a lawyer. In 1990, when Paules arrived for her senior year, Carroll was still in Gainesville, graduated and working; Buyer had graduated and moved back down to Miami. She was on the phone long distance with Paules for 45 minutes the night she died. The conversation cost $7, which Buyer knows because she keeps the phone bill in a drawer with newspaper clippings on the case. Paules and Buyer talked about a trip to Captiva they hoped to take the following weekend. Paules didn't know there was a killer on the loose, but Buyer had seen it on the news: Sonja Larson, 18, and Christina Powell, 17, had been stabbed to death the afternoon of Aug. 26 (Christa Hoyt, 18, would be found the next day). Buyer was worried about her friend, but Paules wasn't scared. She lived with Manny Taboada, a friend and former American High football player too big to be any serial killer's target. Just the same, Buyer said, "Call me tomorrow morning.'' ''I love you,'' Paules said, and hung up. >From the woods behind Gatorwood Apartments, where Paules lived, Rolling was watching. He had chosen Paules. Rolling was a big man, more than 6 feet tall and around 200 pounds. He was a drifter from Shreveport, La., who had been in and out of prison for much of his adult life, and was hospitalized in an Alabama mental hospital for a time. When police named him as a suspect in early 1991, he was already in jail, awaiting trial in the armed robbery of a Winn-Dixie in Ocala. Despite DNA linking him to the Gainesville murders, he would maintain his innocence for 3 years before making a surprise confession at trial. TERRIBLE DETAILS But just now he was outside the window of Paules' apartment. Soon he would use a screwdriver to break inside. For years, Carroll said, "We didn't know the details. It was something I kind of told myself: She was caught by surprise, she went into shock.'' But it didn't happen like that. Carroll and Buyer learned the truth a few years later, when they were called as witnesses in Rolling's murder trial. Stuck alone in a small room, waiting to testify, they started looking through the documents stacked around them: ''It was his conversations with the psychologist,'' Carroll said. "It had everything, absolutely step by step. She was bound and raped. She bled to death.'' When Paules woke that night, 16 years ago, it was to the sound of Taboada being stabbed to death. Carroll believes she left her room to investigate, saw Rolling and ran back. She was in her room, brandishing a curling iron, when he broke down the door. ''Are you him?'' she asked, according to the prosecution. ''Yeah, I'm him,'' he said. When Paules didn't call the next day, Buyer grew frantic, eventually enlisting Carroll to check in on her. He was the one who found the bodies. It was Tuesday morning, Aug. 28, 1990. Memories, even the very worst ones, get covered over. ''You move on,'' Carroll said. "It's a sad, necessary thing.'' Carroll went to work for the Foster's Group, as a manager selling beer, wine and spirits. Brock -- after she married, she changed her name to Swartz -- works with Buyer at The Buyer Group, her PR company. They live near each other. When Buyer got married, Carroll was there, and when she gave birth, he was there, too. LIVING WITH FEAR For a while, Buyer could not bring herself to shower when she was alone in her house. She still wakes up twice a night to check on her 4-year-old daughter. ''I lock my door all the time,'' Brock said. "There's fear, knowing what people are capable of.'' Sitting at the diner, they passed around a note written by Baya Harrison, Rolling's attorney, about his client's last days: "He deeply regrets what he did and is at a loss, after all these years, to understand why he did it. He understands and respects the fact that there are those who wish his death. . . . He does not want to die but knows that he probably will.'' ''It makes me sick,'' Brock said. "I don't care about his remorse.'' ''He was on Easy Street,'' Buyer said. "Death Row is Easy Street.'' A day later, when it was time for the toast, somebody banged a spoon against a glass for quiet. Carroll stood at the center of the group. ''I don't want to depress anybody,'' he said. "We're here to remember Tracy. But Thursday, I know we'll all wake up and the world will be a better place.'' ''Tracy,'' the friends said. "To Tracy.'' Then they drank their champagne. Today, they're driving to Florida State Prison, in Starke. They will be there at 6 p.m. Unless there is a last-minute stay of execution, the executioner will inject a drug cocktail into Rolling's veins: sodium pentothal to stop the pain; pancuronium bromide to paralyze; and potassium chloride to trigger a fatal heart seizure. (source: Miami Herald) *************************** Sites profit from 'murderabilia' Buy a 470-page manuscript handwritten by serial killer Danny Rolling for $3,700. A drawing by Charles Manson -- with swastikas and hearts in the background -- goes for $650. And a framed canvas of "Patches the Clown," painted by John Wayne Gacy, has a starting bid of $899. The art of notorious killers can be found on the Internet, where various auction sites cater to those seeking something created by the criminally infamous. Crime victims' families and critics say it's a disgusting way to make a buck and it needs to stop. But dealers and collectors say people have always been fascinated with serial killers and the Web sites are serving a need. "Of course people are going to be against it. I understand that," said collector Merle Allin, 39, a New York bass guitarist with the underground punk band Murder Junkies. "But I have a right to collect what I want and to be into what I want. . . . I'm not promoting people going out and killing people." But victims' family members don't want the killers getting any notoriety. "This is what he wanted from the crime," said Dianna Hoyt, whose stepdaughter, Christa, was murdered by Rolling during his 3-day rampage in Gainesville in 1990. "He wanted to become famous." Many states have laws that prohibit inmates from profiting from art, books or any other depictions of their crimes. But those laws do little to stop others from profiting. Some of the hottest items on sites recently belong to Rolling, who is scheduled to die by lethal injection at the Florida State Prison near Starke at 6 p.m. today. He admitted to killing and mutilating four women and a man near the University of Florida campus in August 1990. "Days before an execution, [dealers] come out in droves. They are capitalizing on the national publicity," said Andy Kahan, a Houston-based victims advocate who started speaking out against the practice of selling what he calls "murderabilia" in 1999. On murderauction.com, eight items by Rolling -- ranging from a letter and envelope for a starting bid of $10 to a hand-drawn 9x12-inch self-portrait with a starting bid of $1,450 -- are up for sale. Another site -- supernaught.com -- had 22 pieces of Rolling's work along with handwritten letters by notorious (and now dead) serial killers Jeffrey L. Dahmer and Ted Bundy. The site also features a rosary that belonged to Gacy for $3,000. "I love Danny's artwork," said Tod Bohannon, 29, an Atlanta-based collector who operates murderauction.com. "It's out of his head. That's one of the great things about it. It's all him." Serial-killer enthusiasts used to turn to eBay to find artwork, letters and other belongings, including nail and hair clippings of famous killers. In 2001, the popular online auction site decided to ban items associated with felons who committed notorious killings. Dealers seized on the opportunity and set up their own sites. Tampa-based supernaught.com became the national source for murder memorabilia. Bohannon, who says he is training to be a Baptist pastor, set up muderauction.com -- where he and other dealers from around the country can sell their killer collections. They range from paintings to pencil drawings to mundane letters to locks of hair. "I'm not saying what I do is right or wrong, but I still do it," Bohannon said. "They are not all bogeymen. If you have a chance to sit in front of them, it's interesting. The media make them out to be monsters, but they are people." How collectors get the items varies. Some buy through a dealer. Others, such as Allin, write the killers directly and strike up a friendship. Through the years, he has sent Rolling money so the death-row inmate can buy items from the prison canteen. Florida law prohibits convicted felons from making money from any depictions related to their crimes. But it doesn't stop others -- who are not acting on the felon's behalf -- from selling the items. In 1998, a Florida judge ruled that money earned from accounts of Rolling's crimes, including the book The Making of a Serial Killer by Rolling and Sondra London, had to be turned over to the state. Victims advocate Kahan -- who works in the Houston Mayor's Office of Crime Victims Division -- wants states to take it a step further. He plans to push for federal legislation that would prohibit anyone, associated with the killer or not, from selling any personal items created by incarcerated felons. Hoyt agrees. It sickens her to think of anyone profiting from her 18-year-old stepdaughter's murder. "It makes me angry," she said. "Why would someone want something from someone so evil?" (source: Orlando Sentinel) MISSISSIPPI: Death of Ole Miss officer called "depraved heart" murder The actions of a University of Mississippi student in the dragging death of a campus police officer constitute a "depraved heart" murder, a Mississippi Bureau of Investigation affidavit claims. Daniel Cummings, 20, of Germantown, Tenn., was arrested early Saturday morning, shortly after Officer Robert Langley was thrown to the pavement while trying to stop Cummings from driving away from a traffic stop on the Ole Miss campus, according to a Justice Court affidavit sworn by Lt. Walter Davis of MBI, the state's crime investigation agency. Langley, a 30-year-old Afghanistan war veteran and father of 2 sons and 2 stepdaughters, suffered fatal head injuries. His funeral was scheduled Wednesday afternoon at the Gertrude C. Ford Center for the Performing Arts on the Ole Miss campus. Depraved heart murder is a legal term for when an action that demonstrates a "callous disregard for human life" results in death. Cummings is in Lafayette County Detention Center. His attorney Steve Farese Sr. said they will not seek bond in the immediate future. "We don't want to take any actions until after the funeral," Farese said. "We don't want to do anything that would take away from the family's opportunity to grieve. It's just an emotional time for everyone." Cummings is charged with capital murder, which carries the possibility of the death penalty. The question of whether the charge remains the same or is reduced to simple murder or manslaughter will be decided by prosecutors as facts develop in the case, said Ron Rychlak, associate dean and professor of law at Ole Miss. "In Mississippi, one of the ways you get a capital murder charge is killing an officer and knowing that he's an officer," Rychlak said. "It's arguably not an intentional killing, but that doesn't necessarily negate the murder charge," he said. Was the driver "aware the officer was trapped? Was he aware he was an officer? There are really too many variables to predict yet." While investigators have not released any findings from the investigation, questions have been raised about whether alcohol or illegal drugs were involved. Toxicology results would not likely change the charge, said Michael Hoffheimer, an Ole Miss criminal law professor. "Intoxication is not a defense to murder in Mississippi." Hoffheimer said that given a lack of premeditated intent to kill a specific person, as MBI's Davis' affidavit contends, prosecutors would face a difficult challenge to prove murder, but it would still be possible, Hoffheimer said. They "would basically have to prove that the defendant acted with a depraved heart with indifference to human life," he said, essentially the way Davis described the crime. District Attorney Ben Creekmore said while he expects to begin receiving results from MBI's investigation "very soon," his office likely will release such information only as court records. Creekmore said Cummings' case will go before the grand jury that convenes in February. (source: Associated Press) OHIO: Witness to the execution Today, I watched somebody die. As I write this, it's been 7 hours since I saw Kirtland cult leader Jeffrey Lundgren take his last breath for brutally killing a family of 5 17 years ago. I made the 4 1/2-hour drive to the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility in Lucasville Monday afternoon. After a series of last-minute court rulings, it looked doubtful that Lundgren would in fact be executed as scheduled Tuesday morning. To be honest, I was a little relieved and secretly hoping at times that it would be delayed because I was losing my nerve fast. The week before the event, I had virtually no appetite, was moody and slept very little. But part of me was curious to see the killer in person. What would he say? What would he do? Would he finally apologize after all these years for his horrible actions? I was 1 of only 3 news media representatives chosen to witness the execution firsthand. The other 2 reporters were John McCarthy from the Associated Press and the Plain Dealer's Maggi Martin. McCarthy had witnessed several other executions, and he reassured us while telling us what to expect. Prison officials escorted the 3 of us to the death house next door at 10 a.m. We sat in 3 front-row seats that would have gone to Lundgren's family, who did not attend. Several prison officials, including Andrea Dean, the Ohio Department of Corrections spokeswoman, stood behind us. A wall separated us from witnesses for the victims' side. There was U.S. Rep Steven C. LaTourette; Donald Bailey, one of the victims' brothers; Lake County Prosecutor Charles Coulson; and 2 victim's assistance representatives. The moment I walked in the room, I was struck by the vision of an empty gurney. This was for real. It was going to happen. Despite the close proximity, I knew Lundgren could not hurt us. There was a glass partition between us, and besides, he would be strapped on the gurney with drugs coursing through his veins that would kill him in an estimated 6 to 8 minutes. But since the glass wasn't soundproof and he could see out at us, I worried that if I accidentally coughed, we would make eye contact, and I did not want to look into his eyes. The first glimpse we got of Lundgren was inside our room on a TV mounted high. It was 10:02 a.m. The eight-member execution team was preparing him on a bed for lethal injection. The image of them poking his veins made me shudder. He looked like a normal 56-year-old man - not the monster I had heard so much about. Lundgren walked exactly 17 steps to the death room. Luckily, he did not protest, proclaim his innocence or have to be dragged there, like some inmates. That would have made it much more difficult to watch. Sometime during this brief period, I see drugs coursing through Lundgren's veins and realize I missed the warden giving the secret signal to start the execution. At 10:17 a.m., Lundgren gave a 30-second statement. At 10:18 a.m., he closed his eyes. At 10:20 a.m., his fingers begin to turn blue, and I feel an unexpected twinge of sympathy for this fellow human being. I force myself to think about the girl whose decomposed foot fell off when officials dug up her body. I fight back tears and begin to feel like I can't breathe. At 10:25 a.m., the curtain gets shut. Then the curtain is opened, and the warden announces the time of death as 10:26 a.m. The curtain is shut again at 10:27 a.m. We are immediately escorted back outside, where the sun is inexplicably shining on this cold fall day. The whole thing took less than a half-hour, yet it seemed much longer. They say time stands still in the execution room, and it's true. I thought I did a good job in hiding my apprehension. But I must not have, because Dean - who has witnessed 22 executions for her job and says she needs to talk to someone to deal with it each time - kept asking me if I was OK. She took me aside and asked whether I needed to talk to the prison's religious adviser. Though I was grateful for her kindness, I declined. I just wanted to get out of there so I could file my stories and go hug my children and see my husband, who had given me the advice to try to approach it like any other story. And it was true that having a deadline to focus on took my mind off the emotional part of what I had just witnessed. At least until I got in my car to go home. I was singing to the radio about an hour into my trip back home when, all of a sudden, I burst into tears. I was fine 5 minutes later, and I am glad I got to have such a unique and challenging experience. But I can't stop thinking about something Dean said: "There is just something strange about watching someone die." She warned that the full impact never hits until the next day. I reassured her I was fine before leaving the facility. "I'll call you soon," she told me before I left the prison. "I know what it's like." (source: Tracey Read, News-Herald)
[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----TEXAS, FLA., MISS., OHIO
Rick Halperin Wed, 25 Oct 2006 17:47:39 -0500 (Central Daylight Time)
