Death and the Lightning Bolt: Capital Punishment On The Ropes?

Oct. 5, 2015 (Mimesis Law) — The jury returned its verdict and the judge, as judges pretty much all do, thanked them for their service. It is, he said, a difficult thing the county asked you to do, and it is grateful. Then he –

Oh, wait, sorry. I left out the crime. It was ugly. Edgar Allen Poe stuff. Hoffner and his co-defendant Archie Dixon wanted to get hold of their buddy Chris Hammer's car. So they, with the assistance of Kristen Wilkerson (Dixon's girlfriend) . . . Feh. Don't make me tell it. Here's the official version, from the Ohio Supreme Court's opinion in Hoffner's appeal.

In the early morning of September 22, Hoffner, Dixon, and Hammer went to Wilkerson's house. Once there, Hoffner and Dixon attacked Hammer. Hoffner restrained Hammer in a headlock while Dixon beat him. Hoffner tried to break Hammer's neck, and Dixon struck Hammer in the head with a wine bottle. Hoffner and Dixon then tied Hammer to a bunk-bed ladder, and Dixon went through Hammer's wallet, taking out his money, birth certificate, and Social Security card. Then Hoffner and Dixon discussed how they should dispose of Hammer's body. While Hammer remained tied to the bunk-bed ladder, Hoffner and Dixon left Wilkerson's house to dig a grave. Hoffner and Dixon returned to Wilkerson's house and they, along with Wilkerson, drove Hammer, blindfolded, to the gravesite in Hammer's car. Wilkerson stayed at the car while Hoffner and Dixon walked Hammer into the woods, where they permitted Hammer to smoke a cigarette. Then they gagged and again blindfolded Hammer, tied his hands and feet behind his back, grabbed him by his arms and legs, and dropped him into the grave, still alive. At one point, Hammer was able to remove the gag from his mouth and free one of his legs. Hoffner jumped into the grave and placed his foot over Hammer's mouth when Hammer yelled for help. Hoffner and Dixon then held Hammer down and covered him with dirt. After Hammer was completely buried, Hoffner and Dixon walked back and forth across the grave, packing down the dirt. Hoffner, Dixon, and Wilkerson then returned to Wilkerson's house in Hammer's car.

OK, got that? Now, let's start again.

The jury returned its verdict recommending that Tim Hoffner be executed, that he should be killed in the name of the people of the State of Ohio. And the judge, as judges pretty much all do after any jury trial, thanked them for their service. It is, he said, a difficult thing the county asked you to do, but a vitally important thing.

Then he added that if any of the jurors needed therapy as a result of performing this service, the county would pay for it.

There were three executions scheduled for last week.

Kelly Gissendaner, on death row in Georgia, didn't kill anyone herself though she arranged for the 1997 murder of her husband, Douglas Gissander. Gregory Owen, the actual killer, was her lover at the time. He's doing life with a chance of parole. Whatever, whoever Gissendaner was then, she'd changed, showed remorse, provided support and counsel for other prisoners.

Richard Glossip, on death row in Oklahoma, didn't kill anyone, either. It was Justin Sneed, serving a life sentence for the crime, who murdered Barry Van Treese, the owner of the motel where they both worked. The state's theory is that Glossip put Sneed up to it. The evidence supporting that claim, never strong, has pretty much completely unraveled.

It's pretty clear that Alfredo Prieto, on death row in Virginia, did kill people himself, at least three and maybe half a dozen more that he's been linked to. He was on death row in California for the 1990 rape and murder of Yvette Woodruff when DNA tied him to killings in Virginia. He was extradited there, tried and again sentenced to be killed for the 1988 murders of Rachel Raver and Warren Fulton, III.[1] There's a fair chance that Prieto was mentally retarded. If so, his execution would be unconstitutional. The courts showed no interest in finding out.

Gissendaner was to be executed Tuesday, Glossip Wednesday, Prieto Thursday. In each case the Pope, who'd made a point of calling for abolition of the death penalty when he spoke to Congress, made a specific request that the sentence be commuted. None of the sentences were.

In each case, last minute litigation raised questions about what would happen. None of it staved off the executions. Lit