Jan. 20



TEXAS:

Photo exhibit to chronicle those affected by capital punishment


A photography exhibit featuring individuals directly affected by capital
crimes or capital punishment will open at the Texas Prison Museum on Feb.
1.

The exhibit, produced by photographer Barbara Sloan, features pieces that
chronicle executed inmates' final statements and pieces of individual case
history.

"The name of the exhibit is 'Last Statement,' and I've labeled it as a
continuing study of the families of victims and offenders executed on
death row," Sloan said "It's a black and white photography fine art
presentation. Nothing is done by a computer and there is nothing digital
involved."

Sloan said the exhibit features 16 photographs, divided evenly between the
families of victims and the families of the executed.

The photographs are paired with paragraphs of text which provide the basic
crime data from each case and a portion of the last statement of the
person executed.

"I would try to pick something that related to the statement of the person
in the photo," she said. "The largest part of the text was thsttement of
the person in the photo. The photo may include the mother of a child who
was murdered or the mother of an offender who was executed."

Sloan said she felt her work on "Last Statement" was an incredible
experience in her career.

"I've found this to be an incredible, sensitive project," she said. "It is
not about the death penalty  that was not the purpose of the project. The
purpose was to show compassion for the families who are victims of a
capital crime and the families of those suffering the loss of a person
executed for a capital crime."

Sloan said she considers everyone in her work, whether they are the family
member of an executed person or a person affected by a capital crime, to
be a victim of sorts.

"Every one of my subjects has been a victim of circumstance," she said.
"My whole premise is that the victim is gone, and the offender is gone,
but the families have to carry this burden for generations. Both families
continue to carry this sadness, heartache and embarrassment with them for
the rest of their lives, and that affects the way they raise their
children."

Several elements were added to this year's exhibit, Sloan said, to add
interest and depth to the overall presentation.

"Very rarely does the federal government execute someone, and I used a
subject related to the execution of Timothy McVeigh," she said. "On the
victim side, I included a gentleman whose daughter was in the Oklahoma
City bombing. On the offender side, I have a lady who spoke on a Russian
execution to show some of the differences of what happens with execution
there as opposed to here. "Using those unique subjects was my way of
saying that I'm starting to move beyond what we do in Huntsville to a
national and an international project."

While Sloan said she believes everyone would benefit from seeing her
exhibit, she said there are specific groups who would learn directly from
seeing her work.

"Everyone who works for the Texas Department of Criminal Justice needs to
see this, and every Sam Houston State University student who is majoring
or minoring in criminal justice needs to see this," she said. "People in
those 2 groups work closely with these individuals, both the victims and
the offenders, and it makes them particularly compassionate to how far
reaching crime is."

Sloan said the exhibition started several years ago when she worked with
her mother, Ernestine Sloan, and a former Huntsville Item reporter named
Kelly Prew to collect the first photographs of family members of the
victims of capital offenses and the families of those executed for them.

"Prew and my mother actually presented the 1st exhibit to the art
commission, but since my mother passed away in October, I presented it by
myself this last time," she said. "I was committed to doing it, but it's
been a very emotional thing for me, and I went into autopilot for months
to get everything finished.

"In a sense, I think my mothers death made me more sensitive to the people
I photographed, and in my heart, I dedicate this project to her."

Sloan said the exhibit may or may not continue after her newest set of
photographs has been on display.

"This project may end with this exhibit or it may continue," she said.
"You put out feelers and if you get positive feedback you continue, but if
you come up against walls, you may stop for a while. I hope to continue
working on it, not just in Huntsville but outside as well."

The public will be able to view the exhibit during museum business hours
beginning on Feb. 1. There will be a private by invitation only opening
from 5-7 p.m.

The exhibit, Sloan said, will be up indefinitely.

(source: Huntsville Item)






USA:

Less money, more pain and injustice


Last month, New Jersey's legislature and governor replaced the death
penalty with a sentence of life in prison without parole. The measure has
been hailed as an historic moment across the country. I guess that makes
sense, because no state had legislatively abolished its death penalty in
more than 50 years.

But I want to share the view from where I sit: a police chief who long
supported the death penalty. Watching this debate evolve over the years
and then unexpectedly being caught up in the middle of it, I don't think
the vote was historic at all. It was just plain common sense.

I am the police chief of West Orange, N.J., an older suburban town about
15 miles outside of Manhattan. I am a proud Republican. I have dedicated
my life to protecting the public and making our streets safer. And I put
my life on the line every time I go to work. Believe me, sympathy for
killers is nowhere in my vocabulary.

Last year, the New Jersey Legislature set up a study commission to decide
what to do with the death penalty. The capital punishment system was
broken; some people wanted to fix it, while others wanted to abolish it.

I was asked to join the commission and help decide what to do. I pledged
to keep an open mind, but I always supported the death penalty, and I
didn't expect that to change. If there were fixes we could recommend to
make it work better, I figured I could support that.

I was wrong.

I no longer believe that you can fix the death penalty. Six months of
study opened my eyes to its shocking reality. I learned that the death
penalty throws millions of dollars down the drain -- money that I could be
putting directly to work fighting crime every day -- while dragging
victims' families through a long and torturous process that only
exacerbates their pain.

I want to share what I learned from the families whose loved ones were
lost, because I believe their untold stories are the shameful, hidden
secret of the death penalty.

One by one they came before me -- mothers, fathers, children and spouses.
Their cries of pain were devastating.

The judicial process sentences victims' families to an indeterminate time
in legal limbo, waiting, waiting, waiting, for the day that the punishment
will be carried out. For most of them, it never will be. The death penalty
was supposed to help families like these. Virtually everything I heard
told me that the process was tearing them apart.

Meanwhile, maintaining this charade of a system for the past 30 years cost
New Jersey almost a quarter billion dollars -- money that could have been
providing these victims with crucial services to help them heal, or
funding law enforcement and preventing the crimes in the first place. The
prosecutors who sat on the commission with me confirmed through direct
experience that capital cases deplete their resources more than any other
type of case. Studies in other states found the same thing.

As a police chief, I find this use of state resources offensive. The death
penalty is supposed to help me fight crime. I say: Give a law enforcement
professional like me that $250 million, and I'll show you how to reduce
crime. The death penalty isn't anywhere on my list.

The problems we found are not unique to New Jersey. No state has found a
way to carry out the death penalty quickly and cheaply and also
accurately.

In my heart, I still believe that capital punishment is justified in some
cases. But I also know that in real life, there is no perfect death
penalty, and in practice, it does more harm than good. Life in prison
without parole is a better alternative. It is harsh, it ensures public
safety, and it puts victims' families first.

(source: Opinion: James Abbott is the chief of police in West Orange, N.J.
He was a member of the New Jersey Study Commission; Fort Worth
Star-Telegram)

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

Death isn't an answer


I have great empathy for the victims of heinous and violent crimes. I feel
that society should provide these victims with as much security and
support as possible following their loss. The victims have a right to feel
safe again and satisfied that the perpetrators of these crimes will be
punished.

I have never been able to understand why so many good people think that
death, painful or not, is the answer to the problem. I believe that death
itself is the relevant question. How are we better than the criminal when
we make conscious and deliberate decisions to take a life, particularly if
we have no concern as to whether or not pain is inflicted?

We should punish these men and women, and it should be without question of
parole or amenities or concern about their comfort, but we should never
lower ourselves to the level of these violent and evil men and women.

Susan Haefele, Lewisville

(source: Letter to the Editor, Dallas Morning News)

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

THE PEOPLE SPEAK: Execution valuable in punishment of crime


I have read the U.S. Supreme Court is going to review the lethal injection
form of execution, and whether the three drugs used cause an
excruciatingly and painful death.

I think its a frivolous suit and a waste of our high courts crowded
docket.

I assume all forms of execution are painful, physically and mentally,
especially if something slips up. And we have seen that in the past with
executions in the gas chamber and the electric chair, and not so long ago
on the gallows.

I do not believe in the death penalty as it's carried out now.

How many unfortunate people have we executed that may have been innocent,
convicted on tainted hearsay and unreliable people and evidence?

Look at all the ones who have been released from years of confinement in
prisons and even death row with proof of innocence now by DNA.

I do believe in forms of deterrence for all crimes, and I believe in the
death sentence for deliberate, malicious, heinous and homicidal crimes if
they are 100 % provable, absolute and positive by confession and or
credible witness. Then let the convicted choose their own means of
execution  no appeals, no excuses, no 10 to 20 years of appeals.

I have read that it costs taxpayers more to execute a prisoner because of
the years of appeals that they now have.

Let's quit all this gobbledy gook clogging the courts all the way from the
county levels to the Supreme Court. They should, in some cases, be
executed just as they did to the victim or victims  what's good for the
goose is also good for the gander. And it seems that those that have the
money can forestall the sentence with more appeals.

Jack Estes----Tahlequah

(source: Letter to the Editor, Muskogee Phoenix)

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

Lethal injection debate stalls executions in U.S.


The recent argument before the U.S. Supreme Court regarding lethal
injection points to the surreal nature of the death penalty debate in the
United States. The 2 death row inmates whose cases made it to the Supreme
Court did not challenge the constitutionality of capital punishment, but
rather the method of execution.

Ralph Baze was convicted of ambushing a county sheriff and his deputy and
Thomas Bowling, Jr., was convicted of killing a husband and wife and
wounding their 2-year-old son, They challenged Kentucky's lethal injection
procedure. The pair suggested that the 3-drug cocktail that anesthetizes,
paralyses and ultimately stops the heart violate the Eighth Amendment ban
against cruel and unusual punishment.

The 3 drugs administered during executions are not unique to Kentucky.
Virtually all of the 35 states that utilize lethal injection use the same
3 drugs.

Donald B. Verrilli Jr., the lawyer representing Baze and Bowling, conceded
that a properly administered dosage, particularly the anesthesia, would
provide for a painless death. However Verrelli argued "The pain inflicted
here when this goes wrong is tortuous, excruciating pain under any
condition." Roy Englert Jr., representing the state of Kentucky, agreed
that the 3 drug combination, if improperly administered, could cause
excruciating pain.

Verrilli further suggested that a powerful dose of anesthetic alone would
provide a painless and humane alternative. That's right, using just the
anesthetic could provide a humane and painless execution. So why use the
3-drug cocktail? The answer may surprise you.

On behalf of witnesses

After the anesthetic is administered, pancuronium bromide and potassium
chloride are introduced into the body. The 2nd drug paralyses the inmate,
the final drug stops the heart. According to The Wall Street Journal,
administering the second drug is for the sole purpose of avoiding
unpleasantness for those observing the execution. Representatives of the
victim's family, the media and law enforcement are invited to witness all
executions. Without the paralyzing agent the witnesses would be exposed to
the uncomfortable sight of the inmate's body spasms and muscle
contractions as he drifted into cardiac arrest.

If the use of a lethal dose of anesthetic would provide a more humane
death slumber, why not abandon the 3-drug cocktail and adopt death by
lethal anesthetic? Engler counters that the length of time to carry out
the execution would lengthen the process from a few minutes to as long as
half an hour. Justice John Paul Stevens interjected, "I'm terribly
troubled by the fact that the second drug is what seems to cause all the
risk of excruciating pain and seems to be almost totally unnecessary."

As the argument unfolded before the Supreme Court it became apparent that
the controversy was not really about the machinery of death. Obviously if
the parties are arguing about only the method of execution, they have
conceded the legitimacy of the death penalty. If both sides agree that the
method, if properly administered, comports with the constitution, then the
remaining concerns relate to those other than the condemned. The speed
with which the execution is carried out and the level of unpleasantness
thrust upon those witnessing the execution have nothing to do with the
condemned.

Send back to Kentucky?

Some justices expressed a desire to send the case back to Kentucky to
conduct a trial to determine which method of execution is most humane.
Justice Antonin Scalia balked at the suggestion of a lengthy trial. "I'm
very reluctant to send it back to the trial court," said Scalia. "So we
can have a nationwide cessation of all executions while the trial court
finishes its work and it goes to another appeal to the state Supreme Court
and ultimately  well, it could take years."

After the Supreme Court agreed to hear the cases of Baze and Bowling, the
court granted numerous stays of execution. More than 40 death row inmates
have received stays of execution because of lethal injection challenges.
As a result, last year saw the fewest executions nationwide since 1994.

Questions posed by Chief Justice John G. Roberts during the oral argument
highlight a more fundamental concern  when will the challenges to lethal
injection end? He suggested that if the court agreed that a single dose of
anesthetic was more humane, the court would be inundated with challenges.
Prisoners condemned to death would argue that humane executions take too
long or that executions without pancuronium bromide are less dignified
because muscle contractions are no longer suppressed.

As the Supreme Court ponders whether lethal injection can be humane to
both the executioners and those to be executed, a delay, which is the ally
of the condemned, seems inevitable. If the high court does anything less
than declare Kentucky's current method of execution constitutional, the 65
percent of Americans who support the death penalty can be assured that it
will be a long time, if ever, before another convicted murderer is
executed.

(source: X Matthew T. Mangino is the former district attorney of Lawrence
County and a featured columnist for the Pennsylvania Law Weekly;
Youngstown (Ohio) Vindicator)






MISSOURI:

Lake hospital's letters deal crucial blow to credibility of execution
doctor


Missouri officials fought to keep the moment from happening. From behind a
screen in a Kansas City court June 5, the doctor who devised and
supervised the state's lethal injection procedure described it in terms so
troubling to a federal judge that he ordered it halted.

The doctor testified anonymously that he is dyslexic. That he sometimes
confused names of drugs. That he sometimes gave inconsistent testimony.
That the injection protocol was not written down, and that he made changes
on his "independent authority."

And that turns out not to be all.

The Post-Dispatch has confirmed the man behind the screen was Dr. Alan R.
Doerhoff, 62, of Jefferson City. 2 Missouri hospitals won't allow him to
practice within their walls. He has been sued for malpractice more than 20
times, by his own estimate, and was publicly reprimanded in 2003 by the
state Board of Healing Arts for failing to disclose malpractice suits to a
hospital where he was treating patients.

It is unclear how much U.S. District Judge Fernando Gaitan Jr. was told
before he strongly questioned the doctor's qualifications -- and whether
Missouri was delivering unconstitutionally cruel punishment in its death
chamber.

Doerhoff's reprimand was no secret to Attorney General Jay Nixon's office.
Nixon's office, which fought to keep Doerhoff's identity a secret in death
penalty appeals, signed off on the discipline.

>From 2000 to 2004, the board doled out the same or worse discipline to
only 2 % of the state's practicing physicians.

A public reprimand can have bad consequences, veteran physicians say. It
may be a red flag that causes a hospital to investigate further before
conveying privileges.

Typically, if a doctor is cited for concealing malpractice complaints, it
could signal to an insurer that "maybe his skills are not what they're
looking for," said Dr. Robert Gibbons, president of the Metropolitan
Medical Society of Greater Kansas City.

"Doctors don't take it lightly," he said.

But the rebuke from one arm of Missouri government did not affect
Doerhoff's status with another arm, the Department of Corrections.

Even after the reprimand, Doerhoff, who had supervised 48 executions,
continued to supervise 6 more. And he had prepared injections for a 7th --
Michael A. Taylor, who raped and murdered a teenager in Kansas City in
1989. It was Taylor's appeal that led to Gaitan's landmark order.

A deeper dive into court records shows that Doerhoff made false statements
in at least two different court cases about his history of mistakes.

In one case, he was to be the expert witness for a woman suing a Tennessee
surgeon in Nashville for allegedly botching a bladder repair. But lawyers
dropped the suit just before the trial when the judge ruled that he would
allow evidence that Doerhoff had misrepresented a disciplinary action
taken against him.

No problem for ex-director

Gary B. Kempker, who served as director of the Missouri Department of
Corrections under Gov. Bob Holden from 2001 to 2005, said he spoke with
Doerhoff before each of the 16 executions over that time.

He said he never knew Doerhoff had a disability or had been reprimanded by
the Board of Healing Arts.

Doerhoff had been involved with executions long before Kempker took over
as director, he said, and Kempker said he saw no reason to question or
replace the doctor.

Doerhoff's role was to supervise the injections, but he did not push the
plunger.

Kempker, a former police chief in Jefferson City, said he had known
Doerhoff from living in the same small city. He also knew other members of
Doerhoff's family, prominent professionals who included Doerhoff's wife,
Adelia, an anesthesiologist, brother Carl, a general surgeon, and brother
Dale, former president of the Missouri State Bar Association.

Alan Doerhoff was the only one of them involved in executions, Kempker
said.

"He had been trusted by the Department of Corrections for a long time,"
Kempker said.

"I would say it was very humane and it was a process that I . . . know all
the staff took extremely seriously about our legal mandate," he said.

'I don't do them'

When a reporter approached Doerhoff at his home Thursday and asked about
his role in executions, he said, "Read my lips: I don't do them." Then he
shut the door.

The Post-Dispatch asked Friday to speak with Attorney General Jay Nixon
about his office's defense of Missouri's lethal-injection process, its
efforts to conceal Doerhoff's identity in court and whether he knew about
the reprimand.

The department said Nixon was unavailable, but issued this statement:

"The doctor who administers this procedure was hired and retained by the
Department of Corrections. We will continue to defend this method of
execution against constitutional challenges. All questions about the
qualifications of this doctor would be better addressed by those who hired
and retained him."

Larry Crawford, the director of the Department of Corrections appointed by
Gov. Matt Blunt in January 2005, did not respond last week to a request to
be interviewed.

The Post-Dispatch asked the department July 17 for records of the state's
payments to the physician who supervises the lethal injections. The
Missouri Sunshine Law requires public bodies to respond to requests for
records within three days; the cause of any delay beyond that must be
explained in detail.

The department, through its spokesman Brian Hauswirth, responded three
days later that it was gathering records and needed seven working days to
review them. It has not responded to the newspaper's requests to explain
the delay.

In a previous interview, Crawford said that he was concerned that
revealing the execution doctor's identity would expose him to harassment,
even put him in physical danger.

Crawford said he was grateful to have a doctor participate in something
that most physicians avoid as a matter of medical ethics.

Kent Gipson, of the Public Interest Litigation Clinic in Kansas City,
questioned exactly what the state sought to protect with its secrecy. He
suggested, "It was to hide the embarrassment of hiring somebody with that
many problems."

Said Gipson, who has represented Missouri inmates appealing death
sentences, "It sounds to me that if that's the best they can do, that's
sort of a sad commentary on how the department does business."

Lawsuits and settlements

According to statements Doerhoff made in regard to Taylor's appeal,
corrections officials first consulted with him in 1989, when George Mercer
became the first Missouri inmate to be executed in 24 years. The state had
purchased a lethal injection machine. Doerhoff said he suggested changes
to the injections planned for Mercer.

In his deposition, Doerhoff said he overhauled Missouri's lethal-injection
protocol at the request of corrections officials after a debacle on May 3,
1995, when it took more than 30 minutes for the state to execute Emmitt
Foster.

Foster "was a drug addict and they could not get an IV line in," Doerhoff
explained in the deposition. "They finally put the needle in his thumb . .
. so it was a prolonged execution which caused a lot of embarrassment and
it should not have happened."

He then stayed on as a long-term contractor. In court filings, he
described his role as preparing the injections, inserting the intravenous
line, ensuring proper functioning of medical equipment and providing
medical support for the offender and witnesses. Other staffers actually
injected the drugs, he wrote.

Doerhoff spoke in a malpractice suit filed against him about what else was
happening in his life during 1995: He had a heart attack, he was $4
million in debt and was depressed.

On top of that, a woman sued Doerhoff in St. Louis Circuit Court that May,
alleging that he was having sex with her while she was under his care,
that he performed an operation to restore her virginity and other
sex-related procedures, and that he gave her an abortion in a Jefferson
City hotel room.

The case was settled with the woman being paid $100,000 in an agreement in
which Doerhoff admitted no wrong, according to court records. She
suggested in a recent interview that her lawyer fabricated some of the
claims.

In a 1998 deposition, Doerhoff said he had been sued about 20 times after
as many as 35,000 surgeries. He mentioned a settlement paid in one, and
other records show at least 4 more settlements plus a judgment for
$262,000 that he appealed and lost.

Operated on inmates

Doerhoff's work for the Department of Corrections goes back to at least
the mid-1970s. He and his brother, Carl Doerhoff, had a contract to
perform surgeries on Missouri prisoners. Each also has served as medical
examiner in Cole County, a title Carl Doerhoff now holds.

Contacted by phone, Carl Doerhoff said he had no knowledge about who may
have been involved with executions, and otherwise declined to comment.

Alan Doerhoff participated in more than half of Missouri's executions --
54 out of 105 -- since the Department of Corrections took over the
responsibility from counties in 1938.

Records indicate the Department of Corrections paid him $33,020 since
mid-2001, typically in checks of $2,000 that were issued a few weeks to a
few months after each of the past 17 executions. Earlier pay records were
not available.

Doerhoff has testified that he brought special knowledge to the death
chamber. "I was the only physician available anywhere to ask about how and
what," he said in a deposition in Taylor's appeal. "No one has any
experience (with the execution drugs) so I have to be the authority, I
guess."

It was that deposition in June that led to a moratorium on Missouri
executions. A U.S. Supreme Court decision made it easier for death-row
inmates to file suits challenging lethal injection as unconstitutionally
cruel and unusual punishment.

Lawyers for Missouri's condemned inmates have seized upon that issue in
the past year, claiming that Missouri inmates were not being sufficiently
numbed before the final two injections in the three-drug cycle. The
reasoning is that if the condemned is not properly numbed by the 1st drug,
paralysis from the 2nd could make it impossible to communicate pain from
the 3rd.

The argument gained traction with Gaitan after the state acknowledged
during Taylor's appeal that its own logs of the chemicals given to
prisoners were incorrect. Over Nixon's objection, Gaitan allowed Taylor's
legal team to depose Doerhoff.

To comply with an earlier protective order that sealed Doerhoff's
identity, Gaitan allowed Doerhoff to testify from behind a screen and
arranged for identifying references to be blacked out of public records.

Though court records have cloaked his name, they left enough clues to
identify Doerhoff. Interviews with 3 men who had official roles at
executions, including Kempker, confirmed Doerhoff's name.

Misrepresentations

Some of Doerhoff's problems are a matter of public record.

In August 1997, a letter from Lake of the Ozarks General Hospital informed
Doerhoff that his request for active staff status was denied and that his
privileges were revoked. The letter accused Doerhoff of failing to
disclose malpractice claims against him, misrepresenting how many cases
were brought against him, and of having an "extensive" history of cases he
did disclose.

The letter, signed by Michael E. Henze, the hospital's chief executive,
said the hospital had found a history of poor record keeping by Doerhoff
at another hospital and that there were "continuity of care concerns" at
more than one hospital.

Henze sent a second letter, to the Board of Healing Arts, saying the
hospital's decision was based on "Dr. Doerhoff's material
misrepresentations, misstatements, and omissions from his applications for
medical staff membership and corresponding clinical privileges."

A year later, Doerhoff was contacted by Stephen Doughty, a lawyer in
Nashville representing a woman in a malpractice claim against a surgeon
and a hospital. Doerhoff agreed to be paid in exchange for his testimony
as an expert that the surgeon had not used the standard of care required
in a bladder repair. The plaintiff, Katrinka Stalsworth, claimed that she
was in constant pain from severed nerve endings.

In a deposition on Nov. 23, 1998, the defense lawyer, Phillip North, asked
Doerhoff where he practiced.

"Well, I've always had staff privileges at (Hermann) Hospital and Lake
Ozark Hospital," he said. "They are hospitals I helped organize."

Later, North revisited the issue. "These . . . are full privileges, no
qualifications, no restrictions or anything like that?"

Doerhoff: "Lake Ozark, I no longer have staff privileges there. There's
too much to do. . . . I helped build the Lake hospital, but I had not
admitted a patient there for about 10 years and after a heart attack, my
wife and I decided that we were going to retire and move to the lake, so I
informed the Lake hospital I would be moving there, and they took away my
staff privileges."

Doerhoff said the hospital gave no reason for taking away his privileges.
"The surgeon that was on the credentials committee saw me as a threat, and
he wanted the hospital to hire him as a partner, so he terminated my
privileges."

The defendant secured a copy of the letter revoking Doerhoff's privileges.
Just before the trial was to begin, the judge ruled that he would admit it
as evidence, which Doughty said he saw as a crucial blow to Doerhoff's
credibility.

"He was our expert witness and . . . now there was some question about the
truthfulness of his answers," said Doughty. "It was not the kind of thing
you want to find out about on the eve of the trial."

Doughty withdrew the case.

Accused of malpractice

A year later, Doerhoff was the defendant in a malpractice case. John Kerr,
a minister in Jefferson City, accused Doerhoff of damaging his stomach
during an appendectomy.

Kerr's lawyer, John Beger of Rolla, issued written questions to Doerhoff
to clarify matters of evidence. He asked Doerhoff, "Have you now or at any
time in your career had your license or staff privileges revoked,
terminated, suspended, or limited in any way?"

Doerhoff's reply: "No."

Beger said he obtained the Lake of the Ozarks letter -- as well as a
transcript from Doerhoff's deposition in the Tennessee case -- and knew
that the answer was false.

Beger filed a motion to compel Doerhoff to turn over records pertaining to
his hospital privileges, writing that he believed Doerhoff's written
answer was "incorrect." Within days, the suit was settled for an
undisclosed sum.

In May 2000, Doerhoff's request for privileges was denied at St. Mary's
Health Center in Jefferson City. The hospital alleged that he had failed
to fully disclose malpractice cases filed against him. Doerhoff then
withdrew his application from St. Mary's and did not appeal.

The matter was reported to the Board of Healing Arts, which opened a
discipline case against Doerhoff. The two sides settled in 2003 with
Doerhoff agreeing to his penalty -- a public reprimand.

Doerhoff is now on staff at a hair-removal business in Jefferson City and
has made trips with groups of physicians to treat the Third World poor.

In a deposition in Kerr's suit in 1999, Doerhoff said he was looking
forward to the new challenge of working overseas.

"It's really difficult to find surgeons that can operate under difficult
circumstances," he said. The mission group "needs people that are able to
go into a very primitive area and function without a lot of support. So
I'm the type of person they're looking for."

"So it's a lot more interesting than sitting around in Jeff City waiting
to die."

(source: St. Louis Post-Dispatch)






ILLINOIS:

Stirring up death penalty talk in Eureka----Author of 'Dead Man Walking'
to share 'good Southern storytelling' about her experiences


A Louisiana man convicted and sentenced to death for raping and murdering
an 18-year-old girl and murdering her 16-year-old boyfriend in 1977.

Another Louisiana man convicted of stabbing a woman in 1984.

A Virginia man who in 1985 was charged and later convicted of raping and
murdering a woman outside a Virginia Beach nightclub.

And a Texas woman who is now on death row for killing the 3-month-old boy
she was baby-sitting.

--

'Dead Man Walking: The Journey Continues'

- What: Presentation by Sister Helen Prejean, a death penalty opponent
whose Pulitzer Prize-nominated book was the basis for the feature film
"Dead Man Walking." She will speak about her experiences as well as her
work against the death penalty and her support for families of murder
victims and inmates on death row. Her book will be on sale and available
for signing.

- When: 7:30 p.m. Tuesday

- Where: Donald B. Cerf Center, Eureka College

- Tickets: $5; available at the door. For more information, call 467-6420.

--

They are among the people on death row Sister Helen Prejean has counseled
over the past 30 years as they awaited their own execution. They are also
examples of why the death penalty should be abolished, she says.

Prejean, a staunch opponent of the death penalty, is likely known by most
for her first-person account that led to her Pulitzer Prize-nominated book
and the basis for the feature film "Dead Man Walking."

The book details her start by helping the poor of New Orleans, and how one
letter led to her becoming a spiritual adviser to a convicted killer of
two teenagers who was sentenced to die in the electric chair at
Louisiana's Angola State Prison, and later her support for families of
murder victims.

Come Tuesday, Prejean promises her audience at Eureka College will hear
some "good Southern storytelling" she hopes will lead to conversation
about the death penalty.

"It's a broken system," Prejean said Wednesday by phone about the death
penalty - a day after visiting with Cathy Lynn Henderson, who is in a
Gatesville, Texas, prison for murdering the child she was baby-sitting in
1994.

The problems are many, Prejean says, beginning even with those who are
sentenced to death. They are poor; a disproportionate number are
minorities. She says they often receive poor representation - evident in
the court files. In some cases, attorneys did not provide mitigating
evidence that could have instead allowed for life in prison versus death,
juries didn't get to hear all the evidence, or defendants did not have the
financial means to dispute the evidence against them, Prejean said.

No wealthy people are on death row, she points out.

She brings up the more recent Henderson case, saying the original judge
did not allow her attorney the money necessary to dispute the forensic
evidence of how the child suffered his injury. Henderson was scheduled to
die in June but received a stay of execution because of the now newly
disputed evidence, Prejean said, adding they are waiting to see what's
going to happen next.

Even the option to seek the death penalty is wrong, she says. The ability
to take life is given to elected politicians who often are in a position
of wanting to appear to be tough on crime. "It's used as a threat ...
filled with abuse. There are systematic errors being made," she said, that
too often lead to innocent people being put to death.

What's more is that the death penalty defies the Gospels of Jesus Christ,
she says.

Closer to home, Prejean was among foes of the death penalty who advised
former Illinois Gov. George Ryan before he commuted the death sentences of
nearly 170 condemned inmates. Citing persistent flaws and problems in the
Illinois capital-justice system, Ryan switched the inmates to life in
prison without parole as he left office in January 2003.

She also appeared as character witnesses for Ryan in 2006 during his
federal racketeering trial.

Prejean said she will take her audience through her upbringing in
Louisiana as the daughter of a lawyer "thinking everything is just fine to
discovering a whole other world."

"I'm going to do this until I die," she said.

(source: Peoria Journal Star News)

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

No death penalty for Wauconda man


A judge last week spared a Wauconda man convicted of murder by sentencing
him to prison, likely for the rest of his life.

Circuit Judge Philip DiMarzio sentenced Michael J. Calabrese, 27, to 70
years in prison for the 2005 murder of Edmund Edwards, 25, of Harvey.

Calabrese was convicted Oct. 25, 2007, by a Kane County jury of 2 counts
of 1st-degree murder for shooting Edwards in the back in a Carpentersville
parking lot. On Nov. 13, 2007, Judge DiMarzio ruled that Calabrese was
eligible for the death penalty.

But Judge DiMarzio said today that the death penalty had been "reserved
for the worst of the worst," and that Calabrese's case, although a
"terrible tragedy," fell short of that standard.

On May 1, 2005, Calabrese was among a group that was gambling in a dice
game at the Fox View Apartments in Carpentersville, prosecutors said.
Calabrese became angry at the amount of money that he was losing, left the
game, and threatened to return to rob those who had won his money.

Shortly after he left, Calabrese returned wearing a mask and carrying a
revolver, prosecutors said. After demanding money with no success,
Calabrese followed Edwards into the parking lot and shot him once in the
back, prosecutors said.

(source: Kane County Chronicle)




Reply via email to