Thursday, June 5, 2014

Post Script

Post Script
            As of now, no final verdict has been reached on Williams. An emotional plea was heard yesterday as Williams begged for his own life. “Talia deserved a better father than me,” Williams stated. From reports, he was emotionally distraught, tearing up and sniffling throughout his testimony. “Instead of helping and protecting Talia, I hurt and I killed her.”
            While I was not present for these proceedings, a more personal tone seems to have taken over. Facts are sidelined as something almost more real takes over, the fact that jurors and fellow human beings must decide on the life of Williams. He is already guilty, he is already eligible for death. All that comes now is subjective conversations and discussions.
 His surviving son and daughter testified in court, explaining how they speak with him on the phone several times a month and exchange emails. He asks them what they want for Christmas or about the current games in the NBA. He has conversations that any father has with his children. Despite the distance and the incarceration, the children feel a connection with their father. “I love my dad,” his son said, crying. “I really need him.”
Williams’s younger stepsister also testified, again through a stream of tears. She discussed how his stepfather abused him as a child because he was not his biological son. When asked if Williams still has a place in her life, she replied, “He does… He’s my brother, He's my friend and he's been a confidant for me. He's been a pillar of support in everything I've done. ... He's been there without judgment or ridicule. When I think of him he just makes my heart smile. I love him so much."
Other peers of Williams testified, including a colleague in the Army who said, “He was creased up, boots shined. He was good.” His aunt stated how her brother, his stepfather “acted as if he hated that child,” also including, “His life means everything to me.” A cousin simply stated, “Even though this happened, I can’t stop loving him.”
Apparently jurors did not react much to the testimonies. Maybe these opinions are irrelevant to them. They could have their minds set already as to whether or not to put him to death. Maybe they don’t want to be emotionally involved in this case, with testimonies like these not helping. I can’t blame them, after all, given that they are regular people chosen at random to decide to kill a man or not. It’s quite a job to ask of someone.
The hardest part for me would be the testimonies from his children. They both claimed to “need” him to some capacity in their lives. Talia needed her father and he failed her. Does that mean that we should deprive two other humans of their need for someone else? I’m glad this decision is not mine.


Works Cited

Cave, James. "Naeem Williams Apologizes To Jury For Killing Daughter."The
            Huffington Post. TheHuffingtonPost.com, 04 June 2014. Web. 05 June 2014.
Kelleher, Jennifer Sinco. "Family, Friends Recount Ex-Hawaii Soldier's Life."ABC

            News. ABC News Network, 30 May 2014. Web. 05 June 2014.

Monday, June 2, 2014

Final Thoughts


                 As of the time of this writing, Williams has been found guilty and the fate of this man rests in the hands of the jury that will determine eligibility for the death penalty and potentially then, more deliberation. If eligible, they will sit in a room and begin to talk for days on end about what to do with his life. These individuals were not chosen entirely by random, as stated earlier, they must consider capital punishment, not dismiss it right away. If he is considered eligible, then the question becomes death or life in prison.
            Williams sits in a holding cell in Honolulu awaiting this decision. Maybe he has a view of the ocean, where families and children toss in the waves just minutes away. Maybe he has a view of the mountains or of the city or even the country. In The Fault in Our Stars, Hazel Grace mentions after Augustus’s death how when she wakes up, everything feels okay again for a split second before it all comes crashing down on her. Maybe Williams wakes up thinking he is back in his home with his family for a moment before remembering he is simply awaiting death.
 I wonder if he has come to terms with his fate. He has, after all, spent nine years thinking about and dealing with his past decisions. Nine years has come to this, a decision out of his hands that could cut his life very short. Nine years it took to find him finally guilty of killing his daughter, a deed that he knew he committed the whole time. This verdict provides a morbid and confusing sort of relief. On one hand, it is known that he killed his daughter in a macabre fashion. That did happen. On the other hand, knowing severe punishment is forthcoming provides solace to the family and the public at large. Justice will be served by either death or life in prison for this murderer.
            The other odd relief that this verdict provides is knowing that this person did not spend nine years and months of grueling trials and hearings as an innocent man. Conservatively, more than four percent of inmates on death row are estimated to be innocent. This raises several concerns, one being the fact that innocent people can and are sentenced wrongly to death and the other being the time it takes from the crime itself to trial. The phrase innocent until proven guilty is a cornerstone of our judicial system. Williams fortunately was proven guilty, but if he was not, he would have spent nine years in a detention center regardless.
            The inconvenient truth in this case is the long and drawn out legal process that must take place involving investigations, assignment to a judge, determination of what potential sentences could be carried out, and a whole Landry list of bureaucratic processes that must take place before a trial can be carried out. Just sitting for those few days in the courtroom I saw dozens of three ring binders filled with thousands of pages of documents that needed to be found, organized then printed and sectioned off for the trial (not to mention read in the first place by all participating parties). Nine years is an awfully long time to await trial, but what also must be considered is that a mountain of work was done in that time to ensure an accurate and thorough trial.
            All of this work was in preparation for a landmark case. The trial of Williams is the first capital case to be tried in Hawaii since 1944. That makes it the first of its kind since statehood in 1959. The reason for its rarity is the fact that Hawaii as a state does not allow the death penalty, but since the crime occurred on a military base, it is being tried in Federal courts, where capital punishment is allowed.
University of Hawaii Law professor Ken Lawson told a local news station after hearing the guilty verdict, “… it doesn’t look good for the defense. I would be worried if I was the defense.” This spells bad news for Williams. With death being a plausible case for Williams, the next phase of the trial should be especially difficult. Williams is no longer waiting to find out if he has been found guilty or not, he is finding out his destiny.
Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, this blog will not go on long enough to determine the fate of Williams. You will close this window or move on to another blog, maybe check your email or Facebook. But somewhere out there is Williams, sitting in a cell waiting to die one way or another. He either dies soon or waits for it to happen unexpectedly. This is yet another life-related question that is raised from immersing yourself in a capital case. Would you want to know when you are going to die? We all die at some point, yet in all of us there must be some curiosity as to when it’s going to happen. I’m a fairly good person and I could be hit by a bus tomorrow and die well before Williams, the murderer. Life invariably continues in prison, albeit severely restricted. Williams, if sentenced to life in prison, could make friends, maybe take part in some activities, spend free time in a prison yard feeling the sun and go to sleep every night in the comfort of his dreams. If sentenced to death, Williams will spend grueling years simply waiting to die. Living day-by-day, hour-by-hour, minute-by-minute.
During a recess, many left the courtroom I waited outside while many went to the bathroom, an action we carry out without much thought. Yet I am reminded that this is the reason that this whole trial is taking place, because Williams’s daughter kept soiling herself. This angered Williams to a very tragic point, far more than it should have. The word shame is often used when murderers occur. “It was just a shame,” people often say. It’s a shame that some people get so worked up over an inconvenience like a child soiling themselves. Williams’s daughter would have more than likely gotten over her small problem someday. She could have grown up to be wonderful human being, contributing to society in meaningful ways. She could have had a daughter of her own someday, bringing just a little more beauty and happiness into this world. Williams was asked if he sought a doctor’s help with his daughter’s problem. "That's something I should have looked into," he said.
  
Works Cited

Daranciang, Nelson. "Ex-soldier Admits He Never Sought Doctors for Daughter." Honolulu Star-
Advertiser. Honolulu Star-Advertiser, 2 Apr. 2014. Web. 25 May 2014.
McLaughlin, Michael. "Shocking Number Of Innocent People Sentenced To Death, Study

Finds." The Huffington Post. TheHuffingtonPost.com, 28 Apr. 2014. Web. 26 May 2014.

Revisiting Freedom

            I attend a second hearing of Williams months after the first. I enter the court much in the same fashion as before, yet now knowing to a degree what to expect. Everything happens in exactly the same way. The casual conversations before the hearing begins, the gavel pounding, all rising, then sitting back down. It all happens like clockwork. I watch Williams enter the court from a side door once again, still in shackles and still in that tan prison jumpsuit with the stenciled letters. He sits.
                 Last time I saw this man it was winter. I was getting ready for Christmas. Fall quarter had just ended. Now it’s spring. I’m getting ready for spring quarter and winter quarter just ended. That’s ten weeks of classes, countless exams, papers, parties, dinners out, movies, waking up early for work, trying to figure out what to eat for lunch, and going to the library. For me, a good amount of time has passed and yet in this courtroom, free of windows or any views into the outside world, everything feels entirely the same. The courtroom staff sits in the same places as before, the attorneys in their dark suits are indistinguishable between episodes and Williams himself looks the same, hair still short, glasses still sitting on his face, the same placid expression. Everyone, despite the months passing, is still here for the same purpose, to decide the fate of one man.
                 Today on the stand are two expert witnesses, each flown to across the country and then some simply to talk about Dependent Personality Disorder and whether or not Williams has it. If it is ruled that he does, Williams would have technically been “dependent” on his wife, who has already plead guilty to the murder. She would have been the ringleader and Williams, just a player in her game, according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual-5 (DSM-5). The five is in regard to the book being in its fifth iteration, of which one expert witness contributed authorship to.
                 So these two talking heads sit next on the stand behind a plethora of stuffed three-ring binders of which prosecuting attorneys call to their attention certain sections repeatedly. They critique their credentials, their methodology of psychoanalysis, the disorder itself and how Williams scored on several tests. It’s a big back and forth of JDs trying to figure out what PhDs do in the name of justice. The attorneys are really doing their job and pressing these witnesses on every detail of their work, down to how the psychoanalysis tests were carried out to a lack of a certain optional summarizing report that was not written on account of laziness. This expert witness had no excuse for that one.
                 Meanwhile, Williams sits silently readjusting his glasses, listening the whole time about how he may or may not have a specific mental disorder. He even listens to how his IQ test showed low results. Who was Martin Luther King Jr? he was asked on the test. ‘A man who wanted to change things,’ he responded. This docked him a point. How is that supposed to make him feel? Then again he is a likely murderer. I don’t feel that bad.
                 The bigger picture, however, is that this little hearing that I am attending is a tiny piece of a massive puzzle. A massive puzzle that Williams and all the staff in this courtroom are overseeing and putting together collectively, albeit arguments arise over which pieces go where. In addition, this is a puzzle that began in 2005, when the murder itself took place. It is now 2014, nine years later, and Williams is beginning his trial. That’s nine years of waiting in a cell to hear other people decide your fate. Nine years of waking up every morning to a gray ceiling and wondering what’s happened. Nine years of your life being gone. Ten years ago, Williams was in the military, probably feeling lucky to be stationed in Hawaii. He had a wife and a daughter. It felt to me like the three months that elapsed between hearings was long. That must have been the blink of an eye for Williams.
         Zoom out once again and it become clear that Williams could face a life in prison without the possibility for parole. That would make these last nine years for Williams feel like the last few months for me. On the other hand, he could be sentenced to death. While this may sound like a quick exit, it could take up to twenty years for his execution to actually be carried out. That’s twice as long as since the crime happened until now. In either case, Williams will likely be sitting in a cell for the rest of his life waiting to die, a prospect that drives any person, free or otherwise, a little crazy.
         That craziness has a name now, Death Row Phenomenon. It’s the idea that inmates go a little insane just from the prospect of certain death while they wait on death row, powerless. Maybe guilt catches up and overpowers the condemned. Maybe it’s the inherent desire to remain alive that prompts the insanity. Either way it’s completely understandable something that I’d rather not think about.
         Once again the courtroom goes on recess for lunch. Williams is lead back into a holding cell and I meet my father once again to eat. We open the door to his office, walk down a hallway, through a couple more doors for security and the sun hits our faces, traffic blares by. The sun and traffic that Williams may seldom if ever feel and experience for the rest of his life. We, however, are simply free.

Works Cited

Johnson, Kevin. "Prisoners' Time Spent on Death Row Doubles –
USATODAY.com." Prisoners' Time Spent on Death Row Doubles - USATODAY.com. USA Today, 23 Aug. 2008. Web. 14 May 2014. <http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/nation/2008-07-23-Death-row-time_N.htm>.
Smith, Amy. "Not Waiving but Drowning: The Anatomy of Death Row Syndrome and

                 Volunteering for Execution." BU Pub. Int. LJ 17 (2007): 237.

"Live the Dash"

“Somewhere over 120, there was a bunch… we were doing two a week, and that was getting tiresome… I looked at [my wife] and said, ‘I can’t do it no more…’ And I was a pro at capital punishment… but eleven years later and to this day, no sir.” The words of Fred Allen, former captain of Death House team at Death House at Walls Unit in Huntsville, Texas from the Werner Herzog film Into the Abyss, bring a sobering reminder of the human beings involved in the process of the death penalty. In his case, the death penalty was a full time job, and one that got the better of his psyche. One of the most controversial arguments in the United States, capital punishment, is a deep and opinionated topic unlike any other. Because one takes another’s life, should his be taken as well?
The issue is far from being resolved, with a simple Google search pulling up articles written just yesterday from the time of this writing. The USA Today reports on April 30, 2014 of Clayton Lockett, who experienced a “botched execution,” reporting that the executed “struggled violently, groaned and writhed after lethal drugs were administered.” While this story is disturbing and inviting of many debates in itself, it also raises the issue of how current this issue really is.
The process of lethal injection, commonly used in the United States, involves the injection of three chemicals: “5.0 grams of sodium pentothal in 20-25 cc of diluent, followed by 50 cc of pancuronium bromide, then 50 cc of potassium chloride.” The first renders you unconscious, the second paralyses your lungs and diaphragm, stopping breathing, and the third induces cardiac arrest and the executed supposedly quietly passes away in a fashion that is neither cruel nor unusual. According to The Lancet, however, which studied 49 executions, found that 21 of these were given levels of the first injection low enough that the executed was still conscious during the second injection, in which paralysis sets in. That means that the executed was fully awake during the cardiac arrest injection, yet was paralyzed and unable to physically show their pain.
The procedure itself is only one facet of the controversy that surrounds the issue. The question still remains, should we do it at all? After all, capital punishment is more expensive than life in prison. Not to mention the millions of dollars that goes into the trial and case itself. Is life in prison worse than death? These are questions that have no clear answer, yet must be worked out in our judicial system. One group of people able to shed light on these questions are the families of the victims. One woman, whose mother was murdered, viewed the execution of the man who committed the crime. “When I walked in he looked at me… I was upset when I walked in… I didn’t want to see someone die… [I was] crying… I watched his heart beating on his shirt until it stopped… He was gone and it was over… Some people just don’t deserve to live.” She also stated, however, that life in prison without parole would be a viable alternative and would provide equal solace to her. One could argue that nothing gets accomplished by taking an additional life and for this reason, there is no need for the death penalty.
This is where numbers come in, a welcome relief to the gray debates that dominate this issue. A study conducted by researchers at Clemson and Emory Universities concluded that “capital punishment has a strong deterrent effect; each execution results, on average, in 18 fewer murders, with a margin of error of plus or minus 10.” While scientific inquiry is seldom airtight in cases like this, a deterrent effect does likely exist with the death penalty. If the death of one could save the lives of at least eight, then it could be beneficial. But the issue is not so simple when ethics invariable enter the equation once again. Is it still okay to take a life regardless of how many it saves? I won’t even attempt to answer this one.
Back in the courtroom in Hawaii, these issues run through my head. Thankfully, the fate of Williams is not in my father’s hands. It lies in the jury, carefully selected from over a thousand candidates, chosen based on their willingness to consider capital punishment. They should neither be gung ho about the death penalty nor should they discredit it without any thought. As a result, the fate of Williams should be held in a fragile balance, his case given careful consideration and his fate determined thereafter. Does his crime justify his death? We will have to wait for the answer, thankfully not up to any of us.

“Somebody told me about the ‘live your dash…’ It’s your tombstone… You got your birthdate and you got the day that you decease, and you got the little dash in the middle. That’s your life right there… How are you gonna live your dash?” These are words left by Fred Allen, who has now dedicated his life to living his dash rather than focus on the final number on peoples’ tombstones. We are all still living our dashes while a few out there, like Williams, are trying to come to terms with their final date, one brought on by a system of justice rather than nature or people like themselves. I left the courtroom those days still living my dash as was Williams and everyone else in the room. Yet William’s dash may be coming to an end, while mine will hopefully carry on.

Works Cited

Dezhbakhsh, Hashem, Paul H. Rubin, and Joanna M. Shepherd. "Does capital
punishment have a deterrent effect? New evidence from postmoratorium panel data." American Law and Economics Review 5.2 (2003): 344-376.

Into the Abyss. Dir. Werner Herzog. Perf. Werner Herzog, . IFC Films, 2011. Film.

"Lethal Injection Procedures." Lethal Injection Procedures. California Department of Corrections
and Rehabilitation, n.d. Web. 30 Apr. 2014. <http://www.cdcr.ca.gov/reports_research/lethal_injection.html>.

Penn and Teller Bullshit! Perf. Penn Jillette and Teller. Showtime, 16 Apr. 2006. Web. 29 Apr.
            2014. <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cGAMh6RuTRs>.

Zoroya, Gregg, and Michael Winter. "Botched Execution Could Slam Brakes on Death

Penalty." USA Today. Gannett, 30 Apr. 2014. Web. 1 May 2014. <http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/usanow/2014/04/29/oklahoma-executions-drugs-lethal-injection/8476389/>.