I’m Not A “Bleeding Heart Liberal”

Despite some folks’ accusations, I’m not a “bleeding heart liberal.”

I believe some men and women “should never see the light of day in the ‘free world.’” 

“Free world” - a prison term that needs no explanation.

I say this because, during eleven years as a chaplain in a maximum-security Florida prison, I’ve met some of them. Having been at their bedsides in the closing minutes of their lives, I believe, even then, some had completely willed to cut themselves off from the grace of God.

I’ve sometimes referred to the inmate who, despite receiving four, five or six units of whole blood a day because he was bleeding from everywhere, refused to sign a DNR, insisting “I’m gonna cost the state every penny I can.”

As an act of mercy, attending nurses discussed “slow walking” their response the next time he “coded.”

Years later, a young man appeared in my office demanding to know how the man died. I tried to plead HIPPA laws and other excuses. He would have none of it. When I finally responded, “He died the most painful death imaginable,” the young man – in his early twenties – said, “Good! He was my father! And that’s what he deserved!” 

He turned and walked out. I never saw him again.

A primary role as chaplain was to notify families when an inmate was dying and arrange visits in the hospital or prison infirmary or to notify families when a man died. It was often an impossible task because whole families – parents, spouses, children, siblings - had moved and changed phone numbers, deliberately completely cutting off all contact. 

It’s almost strange to write that I believe there are some who should never see the light of day as free men and women…

Because I met so many of my closest, most treasured friends of more than thirty years while they were “doing time.” Over time, I’ve shared first “free world” dinners with them and their families (sometimes only with them, when there was no family), officiated at their weddings, stood as godfather for their children, celebrated a cum laude (“with honors”) college graduation (while a corrections officer sat behind him and just graduated; good for him, but no honors). (Admittedly that last comment was rather cheeky, but it betrays my pride in my friend’s achievements.)

They and their families are part of my family.

But that doesn’t change my belief that some people should never leave prison.

I had never seriously considered the death penalty until the execution of serial rapist and murderer Ted Bundy many years before I began my chaplain position.

“Evil” fails to describe Bundy; “satanic” doesn’t come close. Homicide detectives, psychologists and researchers believe he may have committed his first murders as a teenager in Washington State or New Jersey. His earliest documented murders were in Washington and Oregon in 1974 - the prelude to a cross-country streak that included Idaho, Utah and Colorado, before he assaulted four members of the Florida State University Chi Omega Sorority, killing two. Days later, he assaulted and murdered a 12-year-old junior high school student in Lake City, Florida. A week later, he was caught driving a stolen vehicle, apparently attempting to escape to Alabama. To date, it has been impossible to determine precisely how many rapes and murders Bundy committed.

After his convictions, he told interviewers Stephen Michaud and Hugh Aynesworth “The ultimate possession was, in fact, the taking of the life. And then… the physical possession of the remains.”

Bundy should have lived in a death row cell – walled-off from the rest of the world and allowed out for only an hour a day - until he was 200 years old, maybe older.

I began thinking seriously about the death penalty when Florida seemed to erupt in celebration after Bundy’s 7:16 a.m. January 24,1989 electrocution in Florida State Prison, Raiford. Awaiting the news, people camped out overnight in a field across from the FSP entrance, set off fireworks when the announcement of his death was broadcast and cheered as the white hearse carrying his remains drove through the prison gates. 

It struck me that our shared humanity is somehow strangely diminished when we celebrate murders – whether “judicial executions,” gang-style shootings or road rage murders.

With the October 28 death of by lethal injection of Norman Mearle Grim, Florida completed its fifteen execution this year, exceeding the combined total of Alabama (3), Tennessee (2) and Texas (5) setting a new Florida record for executions in a single year. At this writing (November 4), two more executions are scheduled for 2025: Bryan Jennings on Nov. 13 and Richard Barry Randolph on Nov. 20.  According to the Death Penalty Information Center, Governor Ron DeSantis has never held a clemency hearing for a prisoner on death row.

Grim’s death offers some indication of just how extreme a sentence to death row – with no hope of relief through execution – really is. On November 4, The Independent Florida Alligator, a student-run newspaper serving the University of Florida and the adjacent Gainesville community, reported on Grim’s execution:

“After he was found guilty during the original trial in 2000, Grim also refused to let his lawyers present any mitigating evidence to help him get sentenced to life in prison, rather than death. 

“The Florida Supreme Court said he wants to die, making this an unusual capital case. According to the Death Penalty Information Center, this happens in only about 10% of all executions.

“’He wanted to be executed rather than spend the rest of his life in prison,’ the court said.”

That’s how horrific life is on Death Row – ten percent of condemned men and women choose execution over continuing to live in what is truly a hellhole. 

On July 19,2024, The Tampa Bay Times reported:

“Last year, Gov. Ron DeSantis signed execution warrants for six Florida inmates, the most in any year in the state since 2014. He was also running for president.

DeSantis had signed off on just two executions — both in 2019 — to that point. The sudden step up, along with legislation he signed lowering Florida’s death penalty jury requirement seemed to signal a new approach to capital punishment…

“But this year [2024], DeSantis hasn’t moved forward on any executions, leading some to question whether the governor’s six executions last year were motivated by his campaign for president and a desire to be seen as tough on crime. DeSantis suspended his campaign in January.”

Twenty-seven states, the U.S. government and the U.S. military retain the death penalty; there are gubernatorial holds on executions in Pennsylvania, Oregon, Ohio and California.

The Death Penalty Information Center reported that, nationwide, by August 20, 53 executions had been scheduled by 13 states for 2025; 29 executions had been carried out; 13 death warrants were inactive (The defendant will not be executed on the scheduled execution date.) and eleven death warrants remained active (The death warrant for the defendant has been issued and an execution date has been set.). 

In 2015, the London-based non-governmental organization (NGO) Penal Reform Internation published a “Briefing Paper” examining the effects of executions on prison guards (“Prison guards and the death penalty”). The authors noted: 

“Modern prison management actually encourages the development by staff of positive relationships with prisoners…

“Managing visits from family members can be emotionally tough for guards, especially when prisoners are banned from touching their visitors and visits take place through glass partitions or nets. The ‘most difficult thing’ as an attending guard is ‘to see on the other side of the glass … the families. Children. Never be able to touch. Never be able to hug.’ Final visits by families prior to execution can be even harder, as can the time when guards see the prisoner for the last time. When prisoners leave for execution, guards may become tense and uneasy; some have started crying after doing mundane tasks like taking a prisoner’s fingerprints…  

“Many guards’ experiences are consistent with acute stress disorder or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD)…  

“The inner lives of guards who execute become like those of battlefield veterans who suppress memories from themselves and others…

“Like murder, execution inflicts emotional and psychological damage on those linked to it. This can begin with anticipatory trauma when a court sets an execution date and the impact can remain even years after an execution. Prison guards, who most closely interact with condemned prisoners on a daily basis, are particularly affected, including and especially those acting as executioners….”

Oklahoma executed four people in 2023 and in 2024. In March 2024, Oklahoma officials asked the state’s high court to extend the time between executions from 60 to 90 days, citing the “lasting trauma” and “psychological toll” of executions on corrections officers. 

The Oklahoma effort began with a group of nine former corrections officers who asked Attorney General Gentner Drummond to extend the time between executions based on the detrimental impact of the job and the lack of mental health support for corrections officers involved with the condemned. 

They reported that execution team members experience an increased risk of PTSD, suicide, and substance abuse, and the grueling preparation schedule put staff members throughout the prison on edge due to ​“near-constant mock executions being conducted within earshot of prisoners’ cells, staff offices, and visiting rooms.” 

In a burst of judicial empathy carefully mixed with psychological ignorance and well-seasoned with wedon’tknowwhat, Judge Gary Lumpkin of the Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals said he wasn’t buying into the “sympathy stuff,” telling corrections officials to “suck it up.” “I’m sorry, but I come from the Marine Corps, and when we have tough duties, we just say, ‘man up,’” he said, ordering corrections officials to “get the job done.”

Allen L. Ault, who served as commissioner of state departments of corrections in Georgia, Mississippi and Colorado and dean of the College of Justic & Safety at Eastern Kentucky University, has argued that “there was one major difference”: in war, the “enemy was an anonymous, armed combatant who was threatening my life.” In an execution, “the condemned prisoner is a known human being who is totally defenseless when brought into the death chamber.” Moreover, he noted, correctional staff often witness the “changed mind-sets and profound remorse” of death-sentenced prisoners over many years, and ​“the damage [of an execution] spills over into the larger prison community.” 

“Anybody that thinks that executing somebody is no problem has not been a part of the process,” said Justin ​“JJ” Humphrey, the Oklahoma assembly chair of a criminal justice and corrections committee and 20-year veteran of the corrections department. The Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals eventually granted the extension request in May 2024. 

A National Public Radio investigation – (“Carrying out executions took a secret toll on workers – then changed their politics,” November 16, 2022) - found that corrections officers faced symptoms – insomnia, nightmares, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, personality changes, and substance abuse – all hallmarks or comorbidities (simultaneously occurring diseases or symptoms) - of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Psychiatrist Robert Jay Lifton and author Greg Mitchell coined the term “executioner stress” to describe the specific impact of carrying out death penalties and some corrections officers who have participated in executions report reliving their trauma in vivid detail.

Other corrections officers, who did not actually participate in the executions but developed close relationships with death-sentenced prisoners over decades of their time on death row, expressed their concern about the arbitrariness of the death penalty.

A 2021 South Carolina investigation found one person involved in executions committed suicide and two execution team members subsequently sued the state for violating their rights and intentionally inflicting emotional distress by pressuring them to participate in executions without providing mental health support. One, Craig Baxley, called himself the “definition of a serial killer” and said that he had considered suicide because he felt that he was ​“condemned by God.”

Finally, as men of Faith and committed to the Gospel of Jesus Christ, we must note that on May 11, 2018 Pope Francis authorized a revision to The Catechism of the Catholic Church:

“Recourse to the death penalty on the part of legitimate authority, following a fair trial, was long considered an appropriate response to the gravity of certain crimes and an acceptable, albeit extreme, means of safeguarding the common good.

“Today, however, there is an increasing awareness that the dignity of the person is not lost even after the commission of very serious crimes. In addition, a new understanding has emerged of the significance of penal sanctions imposed by the state. Lastly, more effective systems of detention have been developed, which ensure the due protection of citizens but, at the same time, do not definitively deprive the guilty of the possibility of redemption.

“Consequently, the Church teaches, in the light of the Gospel, that ‘the death penalty is inadmissible because it is an attack on the inviolability and dignity of the person’, and she works with determination for its abolition worldwide.”

While we understand the need to believe that an execution can bring “closure” after a murder, we know that there can be no “closure.” A loving husband who lost his wife after months or years of battling breast cancer never experiences genuine “closure”; parents whose child dies of a freak sporting accident or drowning or because of a careless and drunken driver or a school shooting never know true “closure.” Families and loved ones of murder victims will never fully stop grieving. Moreover, we now know that executions result in unforeseen and long-term damage – indeed, destruction – in ways the “public” neither sees nor considers.

Death row is and should be a punishment that only ends with death.