Joy
06-02-2002, 07:58 PM
Sunday, June 2, 2002
San Francisco Chronicle
Too young to die
You can't hear it in the tape, but when I brought up the death penalty
during an interview with presidential candidate George W. Bush in June
2000, the light went out of his eyes. He'd been animated and thoughtful
while discussing his education agenda. He didn't welcome the issue on
which national media had been hammering him for weeks.
The death penalty -- especially for inmates who committed murder before
the age of 18 -- had been the subject of daily national news stories.
Last week, Napoleon Beazley -- who was 17 when he shot and killed 63-year-
old John Luttig during a 1994 carjacking -- was executed. Since there was
no presidential election to turn him into a political football, there was
little coverage of the event. Beazley's bad luck. If this were an election
year, he'd have become a household name.
In his final written statement, Beazley, 25, acknowledged, "The act I
committed to put me here was not just heinous, it was senseless." Beazley
also said he was disappointed in a system "so much like me when I made the
same shameful mistake."
I brought up Beazley's case with Bush during that June 2000 interview.
Bush was unfamiliar with his case, but he did talk about Texas law, which
allows the execution of murderers age 17 or older.
"That's the decision we made," Bush explained. "It's 17. I think we need
to send a clear signal that there is a consequence for murder." Bush added
that the juries "didn't have to" sentence minors to death, the implication
being that there undoubtedly were circumstances that moved jurors to go
for the ultimate penalty.
Would Bush consider supporting a law to raise the Texas death penalty age
to 18? "You know, I don't think so," he answered. "But I'm open-minded.
I'd listen."
The tone of critics isn't likely to keep his mind open. Amnesty
International is outraged. A press release explained that the execution
revealed American "hypocrisy" -- because the United States says it
supports human rights.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu had written to the Texas Board of Prisons and
Paroles, "I am astounded that Texas and a few other states in the United
States take children from their families and execute them." He'd have had
a better point if the "children" hadn't killed family members.
Ray Sullivan, spokesman for Texas Gov. Rick Perry, noted that Beazley was
no innocent child. Beazley, Sullivan noted, "had been selling cocaine for
a number of years and was driving around that day with a pistol and a
shotgun, and then murdered someone in cold blood as part of a carjacking.
He had full access to the courts and the Texas Board of Pardons and
Paroles."
That board voted 10 to 7 against commuting Beazley's death sentence to
life in prison. Perry refused to grant Beazley a 30-day reprieve.
Sullivan also noted that Beazley was months from his 18th birthday.
Why should a few months spell the difference between life and death?
Because the state has to draw a line somewhere, and the best place to draw
it is the age of official adulthood, not the in-between age of 17 where
Texas drew its line.
Besides, the government allows a few months to determine whether a
teenager can vote, or buy a beer.
America has given legal force to the notion of childhood -- and that's why
I oppose kiddie executions.
Americans are duly appalled when Palestinian youths decide to kill other
people by blowing up themselves. We recognize an age when teenagers do not
understand the full consequences of their actions. It's sickening that
they kill others, and sickening that they kill themselves.
It may not make sense that a teen can be old enough to kill, but too young
to die. It makes less sense, however, to execute men for what they did as
boys, when the law wouldn't even let them buy cigarettes.
---
San Francisco Chronicle
Debra J. Saunders
URL:
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/chronicle/archive/2002/06/02/ED69107.DTL
San Francisco Chronicle
Too young to die
You can't hear it in the tape, but when I brought up the death penalty
during an interview with presidential candidate George W. Bush in June
2000, the light went out of his eyes. He'd been animated and thoughtful
while discussing his education agenda. He didn't welcome the issue on
which national media had been hammering him for weeks.
The death penalty -- especially for inmates who committed murder before
the age of 18 -- had been the subject of daily national news stories.
Last week, Napoleon Beazley -- who was 17 when he shot and killed 63-year-
old John Luttig during a 1994 carjacking -- was executed. Since there was
no presidential election to turn him into a political football, there was
little coverage of the event. Beazley's bad luck. If this were an election
year, he'd have become a household name.
In his final written statement, Beazley, 25, acknowledged, "The act I
committed to put me here was not just heinous, it was senseless." Beazley
also said he was disappointed in a system "so much like me when I made the
same shameful mistake."
I brought up Beazley's case with Bush during that June 2000 interview.
Bush was unfamiliar with his case, but he did talk about Texas law, which
allows the execution of murderers age 17 or older.
"That's the decision we made," Bush explained. "It's 17. I think we need
to send a clear signal that there is a consequence for murder." Bush added
that the juries "didn't have to" sentence minors to death, the implication
being that there undoubtedly were circumstances that moved jurors to go
for the ultimate penalty.
Would Bush consider supporting a law to raise the Texas death penalty age
to 18? "You know, I don't think so," he answered. "But I'm open-minded.
I'd listen."
The tone of critics isn't likely to keep his mind open. Amnesty
International is outraged. A press release explained that the execution
revealed American "hypocrisy" -- because the United States says it
supports human rights.
Archbishop Desmond Tutu had written to the Texas Board of Prisons and
Paroles, "I am astounded that Texas and a few other states in the United
States take children from their families and execute them." He'd have had
a better point if the "children" hadn't killed family members.
Ray Sullivan, spokesman for Texas Gov. Rick Perry, noted that Beazley was
no innocent child. Beazley, Sullivan noted, "had been selling cocaine for
a number of years and was driving around that day with a pistol and a
shotgun, and then murdered someone in cold blood as part of a carjacking.
He had full access to the courts and the Texas Board of Pardons and
Paroles."
That board voted 10 to 7 against commuting Beazley's death sentence to
life in prison. Perry refused to grant Beazley a 30-day reprieve.
Sullivan also noted that Beazley was months from his 18th birthday.
Why should a few months spell the difference between life and death?
Because the state has to draw a line somewhere, and the best place to draw
it is the age of official adulthood, not the in-between age of 17 where
Texas drew its line.
Besides, the government allows a few months to determine whether a
teenager can vote, or buy a beer.
America has given legal force to the notion of childhood -- and that's why
I oppose kiddie executions.
Americans are duly appalled when Palestinian youths decide to kill other
people by blowing up themselves. We recognize an age when teenagers do not
understand the full consequences of their actions. It's sickening that
they kill others, and sickening that they kill themselves.
It may not make sense that a teen can be old enough to kill, but too young
to die. It makes less sense, however, to execute men for what they did as
boys, when the law wouldn't even let them buy cigarettes.
---
San Francisco Chronicle
Debra J. Saunders
URL:
http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/chronicle/archive/2002/06/02/ED69107.DTL