Images

Listening To Victims

By KAREN LEE TORRE

I arrived in Washington D.C. last Wednesday morning to see the same front page headline in all the local newspapers announcing the State of Virginia had carried out the execution of mass murderer John Allen Muhammad.

Known as the “D.C. sniper,” Muhammad (not his real name, of course) and a sidekick terrorized the citizenry during a shooting spree in the greater D.C. area, randomly choosing victims, gunning them down as they were going about such ordinary activities as shopping or getting gas at a filling station. Virginia was commendably quick in disposing of Muhammad. It was a notable departure from the often decades-long legal protractions in other death penalty cases where sympathetic courts entertain all manner of lawyer gymnastics aimed at rendering a jury’s sentence a hollow pronouncement.

Throughout the day on Wednesday, I listened with interest as ordinary folks around D.C. reacted to the headlines. To a person, the execution was welcome news. “Good riddance,” said a cabbie. “Hooray for Virginia,” said a bartender. “He deserved it,” said the woman cutting my hair.

No hesitations, no debate, case closed. Of course, here Muhammad was guilty beyond all doubt.

My own views on the death penalty do not fit into any established category. A Roman Catholic, I am drawn to try my best to embrace fully my church’s teaching on the sanctity of human life, for it is supported by forceful reason. The Vatican has always been consistent on the issue – no death penalty, no abortions, no exceptions.

But I am always torn.

I find abortion for convenience highly immoral. In other more compelling circumstances, I am unwilling to moralize, nor can I tolerate the state dictating what a woman may do when confronted with a physical or emotional crisis. I would want to make such decisions for myself and I would not deny that right to other women.

The oft-made argument that the state has no right to take a life is a most disingenuous one. The “state” has done that throughout history and to this day, and always in the name of a higher purpose. It’s called war.

I have also come to dismiss as irrelevant the usual debates over the concepts of punishment, retribution and deterrence. After listening to the surviving family members of murder victims, I decided that how they feel and what they prefer are all that matters.

Nelson Rivera, whose wife was murdered, was glad to witness Muhammad’s last breath. “I feel better. I think I can breathe better,” he said. A mother who lost a son said, “I have all my closure, and my justice and my peace.”

What torments the survivors of homicide is knowing that a criminal stranger attended the death of their loved one. They are not just robbed of more time on earth with their loved one, but also robbed of what each of us wants – to be there when that earthly bond must break, no matter the cause of death.

The victims’ comments made me think of my own experience.

When my maternal grandmother died, all five of her daughters and all 17 of her grandchildren surrounded her, each touching her. I and my siblings and other relatives were able to do the same thing when my father died, and again when my mother died. The last people they saw and who touched them were those they loved and who loved them.

It is difficult enough when one misses such a moment simply because a family member lives in another state, and there isn’t enough time to get there, speak to them and hold them at their moment of passing. I can’t imagine what it feels like to know that the passing of your parent or child from this earth was attended by a stranger villain.

So, I don’t care to hear about statistics on deterrence or the value of human life. The only considerations worth listening to are the needs and wants of the survivors.

If removal of their loved ones’ killer from our midst would make them sleep better, “breathe” easier, or enable them to get through a day with a little less anger and pain, then that is enough for me. •

Karen Lee Torre, a New Haven trial lawyer, litigates civil rights issues in the federal courts. Her e-mail address is thimbleislands@sbcglobal.net