Skip to main content

The high cost of vengeance


As far as I know, I've made eye contact with only one serial killer, Darrell Keith Rich, in the summer of 1978. I was a 23-year-old reporter, notebook in hand, covering his pretrial proceedings in Shasta County. He was a 23-year-old biker, hands and legs bound in shackles, accused of a two-month rampage of kidnapping, rape and murder. He killed four of the nine females he attacked. His youngest victim, 11 years, old, was abducted, sexually assaulted and thrown off a bridge. She fell 105 feet, hit the rocks and crawled to her death.

A year earlier, the California Legislature had reinstituted the death penalty, five years after it had been invalidated by the state Supreme Court as cruel and unusual punishment. The specter of the death penalty did not deter Darrell Rich in the summer of 1978. His crimes were as horrific as those of any villain in a Dirty Harry movie: He used rocks to crush the skulls of two of his victims; he shot a mother twice in the mouth as she pleaded for her life. He glowered through the initial court appearances I covered.

On March 15, 2000, the 45-year-old Rich was put to death by lethal injection at San Quentin. His last word to the warden: "Peace."

Executions are so rare infrequent in this state that they are more spectacle for the masses than plausible deterrent. The executed tend to be the worst of the worst, with truckloads of aggravating details to their crimes. None was stopped by the threat of state-sanctioned death.

We must ask ourselves: Is this really worth it?

Rich's was just the eighth execution since the reinstatement of the death penalty. Five more killers have been executed since. Today, California has nearly 700 inmates on death row, more than any other state, with their cases in varying levels of appeal. The housing of an inmate on death row is more than triple the $40,000 annual cost of incarcerating others. This state is contemplating a new, $400 million death row. And none of this includes the legal bills for the trials and appeals that are - by constitutional right - more exhaustive in capital cases. Rich's death came relatively fast: The average wait from conviction to execution is 25 years.

At some point, California needs to have a forthright debate about the cost and the efficacy of the death penalty. That moment may be coming in 2010.

It has long been a matter of faith that statewide candidates needed to embrace the death penalty.

Jerry Brown, the last governor to oppose the death penalty, remained adamantly evasive on the subject in his 2006 campaign for attorney general. He refused to directly answer the question on whether his view had changed. "I will follow the law," was his mantra.

Enter Kamala Harris, the San Francisco district attorney who ran for office as a death penalty opponent - and stood firm against heavy criticism when she refused to seek it against the gang member accused of killing Officer Isaac Espinoza in April 2004.

Harris, now a Democratic candidate for state attorney general, last week again decided not to pursue the death penalty in the highly charged case of another gang member, Edwin Ramos, an illegal immigrant accused of murdering a father and his two sons in June 2008.

Harris insisted her decision was not based on her well-established philosophical and practical objections to the death penalty, but was the result of "a very meaningful, very long, very well-thought-out" review of the case.

"My position has not changed, but my position as D.A. requires that I review the evidence and the facts in each case - and make an honest assessment of what is in the best interest of the prosecution of the case," she said.

Still, the political fallout came fast. Within hours of Harris' announcement of her decision on the Ramos case, the likely Republican nominee for attorney general, state Sen. Tom Harman, fired out a full-page news release suggesting that she is "out of touch" with California voters. While the field of Democrats is six deep, Harris' death-penalty stance offers the clearest choice on what Harman assumes is a winning issue for him.

"I don't see how she can duck it," Harman said by phone Friday. "I'm going to keep bringing it up. You can take that to the bank."

Two recent polls do show that two-thirds of California voters support the death penalty. However, that support has dropped within the past two decades from a high of nearly 80 percent. The percentage of Californians who believe in capital punishment's deterrent value has fallen from 74 percent in 1989 to 44 percent this year.

Also, within the survey just completed by a UC Santa Cruz researcher are other indications that a forthright, facts-based debate might change minds. Most Californians believe - wrongly - that it is cheaper to execute condemned prisoners than to keep them locked up for life. Also, support for the death penalty plummeted to 26 percent when respondents were offered the alternative of sentencing an offender to life without the possibility of parole - and forcing him to work to provide restitution to victims and their families.

If the death penalty is not about deterrence or cost effectiveness, then surely it must be about closure for the victims' relatives or even vengeance for society. Right? Not quite. Even on that level, its results are less than satisfying.

"It was too easy for Darrell Keith Rich after what he put us through for 22 years," a sister of one of his victims, Annette Edwards, said after the execution. Florence Allen, whose daughter's skull was crushed by Rich, had told the Redding newspaper just before the execution that "they should let me go in there with a big rock."

We can empathize with the relatives' fury, while agreeing that lethal revenge with rocks is not an option in a civilized society. It's time for an honest discussion of whether death by an injection of poison sufficiently separates us from the barbarity we presume to condemn.

Story by John Diaz. John Diaz is The Chronicle's editorial page editor.

Source: San Francisco Chronicle, Sept. 13, 2009

Comments

Most viewed (Last 7 days)

Florida executes Michael Tanzi

Florida on Tuesday executed a death row inmate described by one local detective as a "fledgling serial killer" for the murder of a beloved Miami Herald employee. Florida executed Michael Tanzi on Tuesday, 25 years after the murder of beloved Miami Herald employee Janet Acosta, who was attacked in broad daylight on her lunch break in 2000.   Michael Tanzi, 48, was executed by lethal injection at the Florida State Prison in Raiford and pronounced dead at 6:12 p.m. ET. 

South Carolina | Man who ambushed off-duty cop to face firing squad in second execution of its kind

Mikal Mahdi, 48, who was found guilty of killing an off-duty police officer and a convenience store worker, is the second inmate scheduled to executed by South Carolina's new firing squad A murderer who ambushed and shot an off duty police officer eight times before burning his body in a killing spree is set to become the second person to die by firing squad. South Carolina's highest court has rejected the last major appeal from Mikal Mahdi, 41, who is to be put to death with three bullets to the heart at 6pm on April 11 at the Broad River Correctional Institution in Columbia. Mahdi's lawyers said his original lawyers put on a shallow case trying to spare his life that didn't call on relatives, teachers or people who knew him and ignored the impact of weeks spent in solitary confinement in prison as a teen.

Lethal Injection, Electric Chair, or Firing Squad? An Inhumane Decision for Death Row Prisoners

South Carolina resumed executions with the firing squad killing of Brad Sigmon last month. Mikal Madhi’s execution date is days away. The curtain shrieked as it was yanked open to reveal a 67-year-old man tied to a chair. His arms were pulled uncomfortably behind his back. The red bull’s-eye target on his chest rose and fell as he desperately attempted to still his breathing. The man, Brad Sigmon, smiled at his attorney, Bo King, seated in the front row before guards placed a black bag over his head. King said Sigmon appeared to be trying his best to put on a brave face for those who had come to bear witness.

Afghanistan | Four men publicly executed by Taliban with relatives of victims shooting them 'six or seven times' at sport stadium

Four men have been publicly executed by the Taliban, with relatives of their victims shooting them several times in front of spectators at a sport stadium. Two men were shot around six to seven times by a male relative of the victims in front of spectators in Qala-i-Naw, the centre of Afghanistan's Badghis province, witnesses told an AFP journalist in the city.  The men had been 'sentenced to retaliatory punishment' for shooting other men, after their cases were 'examined very precisely and repeatedly', the statement said.  'The families of the victims were offered amnesty and peace but they refused.'

Louisiana | Lawyers of Jessie Hoffman speak about their final moments before execution

As Louisiana prepared its first execution in 15 years, a team of lawyers from Loyola Law were working to save Jessie Hoffman’s life. “I was a young lawyer three years out of law school, and Jessie was almost finished with his appeals at that time, and my boss told me we needed to file something for Jessie because he’s in danger of being executed,” Kappel said. Kappel and her boss came up with a civil lawsuit to file that said since they wouldn’t give him a protocol for his execution, he was being deprived of due process, and the lawsuit was in the legal process for the next 10 years.

South Carolina executes Mikal Mahdi

Mikal Mahdi, 42, was executed for the 2004 murder of 56-year-old James Myers A man facing the death penalty for committing two murders was executed by firing squad on Friday, the second such execution in the US state of South Carolina this year. Mikal Mahdi, 42, was executed for the 2004 murder of 56-year-old James Myers, an off-duty police officer, and the murder of a convenience store employee three days earlier. According to a statement from the prison, "the execution was performed by a three-person firing squad at 6:01 pm (2201 GMT)," with Mahdi pronounced dead four minutes later.

USA | Why the firing squad may be making a comeback

South Carolina plans to execute Mikal Mahdi on Friday for the murder of a police officer, draping a hood over his head and firing three bullets into his heart. The choice to die by firing squad – rather than lethal injection or the electric chair – was Mahdi’s own, his attorney said last month: “Faced with barbaric and inhumane choices, Mikal Mahdi has chosen the lesser of three evils.” If it proceeds, Mahdi’s execution would be the latest in a recent string of events that have put the spotlight on the firing squad as a handful of US death penalty states explore alternatives to lethal injection, by far the nation’s dominant execution method.

Arizona | The cruelty of isolation: There’s nothing ‘humane’ about how we treat the condemned

On March 19, I served as a witness to the execution of a man named Aaron Gunches, Arizona’s first since 2022. During his time on death row, he begged for death and was ultimately granted what is likely more appropriately described as an emotionless state-assisted suicide. This experience has profoundly impacted me, leading to deep reflection on the nature of death, humanity, and the role we play in our final moments. When someone is in the end stages of life, we talk about hospice care, comfort, care, easing suffering and humane death. We strive for a “good death” — a peaceful transition. I’ve seen good ones, and I’ve seen bad, unplanned ones. 

I spent 16 years in solitary in South Carolina. This is what it did to me. | Opinion

South Carolinian Randy Poindexter writes about the effects 16 years of solitary confinement had on him ahead of South Carolina’s planned execution of Mikal Mahdi , who spent months in solitary as a young man. For 16 years, I lived in a concrete cell. Twenty-three hours a day, every day, for more than 3,000 days, South Carolina kept me in solitary confinement. I was a young man before I was sent to solitary — angry, untreated and unwell. I made mistakes. But I wasn’t sentenced to madness. That’s what solitary did to me. My mental health worsened with each passing day. At first, paranoia and depression set in. Then, hallucinations and self-mutilation. I talked to people who weren’t there. I cut myself to feel something besides despair. I could do nothing as four of my friends and fellow prisoners took their own lives rather than endure another day of torturous isolation.

'No Warning': The Death Penalty In Japan

Stakes for wrongful convictions are high in Japan, where the death penalty has broad public support despite criticism over how it is carried out. Tokyo: Capital punishment in Japan is under scrutiny again after the world's longest-serving death row prisoner, Iwao Hakamada, was awarded $1.4 million in compensation this week following his acquittal last year in a retrial. Stakes for wrongful convictions are high in Japan, where the death penalty has broad public support despite international criticism over how it is carried out.