Kyla
09-22-2004, 04:07 PM
Survivor calls capital punishment 'madness'
He urges people to get involved in the movement to abolish it
By Pamela Manson
The Salt Lake Tribune
Two numbers have dominated Juan Roberto Melendez Colon's life in the
past few decades.
The first is 8-046466, his inmate number during the nearly 18 years
he spent on Florida's death row.
The second is 99, his ranking among condemned prisoners nationwide
who have been exonerated and released since capital punishment was
reinstated in 1973.
"When it [his case] first started, I was naive to the law," Melendez
said Tuesday about the 1984 arrest that started his journey through the
justice system. "I thought when I was done with the process, I would be
let go.
"I was wrong."
Convicted for a murder he insisted he hadn't committed, Melendez sat
in a cell for the next 17 years, eight months and one day, while the
Florida Supreme Court rejected three appeals. Finally a judge ruled he
deserved a new trial and prosecutors decided to drop the case.
Since his release from the Florida State Prison on Jan. 3, 2002,
Melendez, 53, has traveled the nation to speak out against capital
punishment. In Utah this week, Melendez said the system of imposing the
death penalty is flawed beyond repair.
"Once you are indicted with a grand jury, there is no turning back,"
Melendez told The Salt Lake Tribune a few hours before he spoke at the
S.J. Quinney College of Law at the University of Utah.
Judi Caruso, a New Mexico attorney and human rights activist who
also spoke at the university, said that Melendez's experience is not
unusual.
"The death penalty system is error-prone," Caruso said.
Melendez, a migrant worker who grew up in Puerto Rico and spoke
little English at the time, was convicted of the 1983 murder of Delbert
Baker, a cosmetology school owner. He claims prosecutors targeted him
after cutting deals with two acquaintances, including a now-deceased
man believed to be the real killer.
After years of being ignored by the courts, a new lawyer took over
Melendez's appeals and discovered a cassette tape with incriminating
statements by the real killer at the trial attorney's office. That
tape, along with other favorable evidence, was turned over to Judge
Barbara Fleisher, who struck down the conviction in December 2001.
Fleisher said the prosecutor had withheld crucial evidence that
substantiated Melendez's claim of innocence. The state, without
acknowledging any wrongdoing, declined to retry the case.
"If I would have lost this appeal, I wouldn't have lasted long,"
Melendez said.
He captivated his audience Tuesday night with his dramatic story of
being convicted of first-degree murder and armed robbery despite having
an alibi backed by four witnesses.
"When they sentenced me to death, my heart got full of hate,"
Melendez said. "I was scared, very scared, to die for something I
didn't do."
The hatred and fear accompanied him to his rat- and roach-infested
prison cell, he said. He first planned to get into shape so he could
fight the guards who one day would come to take him to the death
chamber; he also considered suicide.
"I'm not walking to that chair," Melendez said.
But then he found hope. The condemned men around him, the ones
considered monsters by many, taught him to read, write and speak
English, he said. He followed the example of many and embraced a faith,
in his case, Christianity.
And he started having dreams of Puerto Rico, a sign that God knew he
didn't do it, Melendez said.
One month after his conviction was overturned, Melendez walked out
of prison to the cheers of his fellow death-row inmates. During his
years of incarceration, he said, "I learned how to forgive, how to have
compassion for others, how to love."
He moved back to Puerto Rico, where he lives with his 74-year-old
mother in Manuabo. He also counsels troubled youths who are hired at
the plantain field where he works.
"The years are gone," Melendez said. "I'm just taking a negative
situation and making something positive."
He urged his audience to form a coalition in Utah to abolish the
death penalty.
"We can get rid of this madness," he said.
Two U. law professors at the event also encouraged listeners to get
involved in the Rocky Mountain Innocence Center (RMIC), which works to
clear wrongly convicted defendants in Utah, Nevada and Wyoming. Jensie
Anderson, RMIC president, said the group is on the verge of exonerating
two inmates, one of them in Utah.
Melendez is scheduled to speak again today at 6 p.m. at the Union
Theater, Olpin Student Union Building, at the University of Utah. The
talk is free and open to the public.
The groups sponsoring his appearances include the Minority Law
Caucus and the Public Interest Law Organization at the Quinney law
school; the American Civil Liberties Union of Utah; the Utah Minority
Bar Association; the Utah People for Peace and Justice; and the Utah
Coalition of La Raza.
Al Hartmann/The Salt Lake Tribune
"When they sentenced me to death, my heart got full of hate," Juan
Melendez says. "I was scared, very scared, to die for something I
didn't do." He spoke Tuesday at U. of U. law school
He urges people to get involved in the movement to abolish it
By Pamela Manson
The Salt Lake Tribune
Two numbers have dominated Juan Roberto Melendez Colon's life in the
past few decades.
The first is 8-046466, his inmate number during the nearly 18 years
he spent on Florida's death row.
The second is 99, his ranking among condemned prisoners nationwide
who have been exonerated and released since capital punishment was
reinstated in 1973.
"When it [his case] first started, I was naive to the law," Melendez
said Tuesday about the 1984 arrest that started his journey through the
justice system. "I thought when I was done with the process, I would be
let go.
"I was wrong."
Convicted for a murder he insisted he hadn't committed, Melendez sat
in a cell for the next 17 years, eight months and one day, while the
Florida Supreme Court rejected three appeals. Finally a judge ruled he
deserved a new trial and prosecutors decided to drop the case.
Since his release from the Florida State Prison on Jan. 3, 2002,
Melendez, 53, has traveled the nation to speak out against capital
punishment. In Utah this week, Melendez said the system of imposing the
death penalty is flawed beyond repair.
"Once you are indicted with a grand jury, there is no turning back,"
Melendez told The Salt Lake Tribune a few hours before he spoke at the
S.J. Quinney College of Law at the University of Utah.
Judi Caruso, a New Mexico attorney and human rights activist who
also spoke at the university, said that Melendez's experience is not
unusual.
"The death penalty system is error-prone," Caruso said.
Melendez, a migrant worker who grew up in Puerto Rico and spoke
little English at the time, was convicted of the 1983 murder of Delbert
Baker, a cosmetology school owner. He claims prosecutors targeted him
after cutting deals with two acquaintances, including a now-deceased
man believed to be the real killer.
After years of being ignored by the courts, a new lawyer took over
Melendez's appeals and discovered a cassette tape with incriminating
statements by the real killer at the trial attorney's office. That
tape, along with other favorable evidence, was turned over to Judge
Barbara Fleisher, who struck down the conviction in December 2001.
Fleisher said the prosecutor had withheld crucial evidence that
substantiated Melendez's claim of innocence. The state, without
acknowledging any wrongdoing, declined to retry the case.
"If I would have lost this appeal, I wouldn't have lasted long,"
Melendez said.
He captivated his audience Tuesday night with his dramatic story of
being convicted of first-degree murder and armed robbery despite having
an alibi backed by four witnesses.
"When they sentenced me to death, my heart got full of hate,"
Melendez said. "I was scared, very scared, to die for something I
didn't do."
The hatred and fear accompanied him to his rat- and roach-infested
prison cell, he said. He first planned to get into shape so he could
fight the guards who one day would come to take him to the death
chamber; he also considered suicide.
"I'm not walking to that chair," Melendez said.
But then he found hope. The condemned men around him, the ones
considered monsters by many, taught him to read, write and speak
English, he said. He followed the example of many and embraced a faith,
in his case, Christianity.
And he started having dreams of Puerto Rico, a sign that God knew he
didn't do it, Melendez said.
One month after his conviction was overturned, Melendez walked out
of prison to the cheers of his fellow death-row inmates. During his
years of incarceration, he said, "I learned how to forgive, how to have
compassion for others, how to love."
He moved back to Puerto Rico, where he lives with his 74-year-old
mother in Manuabo. He also counsels troubled youths who are hired at
the plantain field where he works.
"The years are gone," Melendez said. "I'm just taking a negative
situation and making something positive."
He urged his audience to form a coalition in Utah to abolish the
death penalty.
"We can get rid of this madness," he said.
Two U. law professors at the event also encouraged listeners to get
involved in the Rocky Mountain Innocence Center (RMIC), which works to
clear wrongly convicted defendants in Utah, Nevada and Wyoming. Jensie
Anderson, RMIC president, said the group is on the verge of exonerating
two inmates, one of them in Utah.
Melendez is scheduled to speak again today at 6 p.m. at the Union
Theater, Olpin Student Union Building, at the University of Utah. The
talk is free and open to the public.
The groups sponsoring his appearances include the Minority Law
Caucus and the Public Interest Law Organization at the Quinney law
school; the American Civil Liberties Union of Utah; the Utah Minority
Bar Association; the Utah People for Peace and Justice; and the Utah
Coalition of La Raza.
Al Hartmann/The Salt Lake Tribune
"When they sentenced me to death, my heart got full of hate," Juan
Melendez says. "I was scared, very scared, to die for something I
didn't do." He spoke Tuesday at U. of U. law school