Editor's note: This is the first in a series of stories covering the pending execution of Russell Bucklew at 12:01 a.m. Wednesday. Look for the next installment in Monday's newspaper.
A painting adorns the wall in the Cape Girardeau County prosecuting attorney's office in Jackson. At first glance, the artwork appears to tell the story of a simpler time when horse-drawn buggies were the common mode of travel, but closer inspection reveals a much more serious tale.
Titled "Last Man Hanging," the painting is a re-imagining of the last hanging in the county. It depicts a crowd gathering in 1899 around a raised platform, where John Headrick stands preparing to meet his fate after murdering James M. Lail less than a year earlier.
"The wheels of justice moved much faster a century ago," says a brief description of the painting on the prosecuting attorney's website. "The fact that 100 years ago a murderer was legally and lawfully hanged by the neck until dead within 50 yards of the place where this painting now hangs reminds those of us in law enforcement of the importance of our work. ... When a criminal chooses to commit a crime, there should be consequences. Punishment will rarely be a death sentence, but it should be swift and sure in every case. Justice demands no less."
"That nails it. Really, it does," said Cape Girardeau County Prosecuting Attorney Chris Limbaugh. "Because of the seriousness of the type of punishment, everything must be verified. I completely agree with that, absolutely."
Missouri has come a long way from the times of county-by-county executions, which now are carried out at the state prison in Bonne Terre. The state's methods also have evolved from hanging to gas chambers to lethal injection.
Although the U.S. Supreme Court ruled after a 2008 hearing that execution by lethal injection was not cruel and unusual, it continues to be a point of controversy across the nation. That's even more so after an April 29 execution in Oklahoma -- where a three-drug method is used -- left a man writhing on a gurney. He died of an apparent heart attack 43 minutes after the start of his execution.
Although Missouri uses only one drug, the sedative pentobarbital -- which is not part of the three-chemical combination used by Oklahoma -- the secrecy around the drug and its providers has some wondering whether it's the best option.
Rita Linhardt is chairwoman of the board for Missourians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. She said the Oklahoma incident, combined with the frequency of executions taking place in Missouri, have made some people uneasy. Executions have averaged about one a month since the beginning of the year.
"It's not an abstraction anymore," she said of the death penalty. "When you have one [execution] a month and people are starting to realize these executions are being carried out in their name, as a citizen of the state ... they're uncomfortable with that."
Linhardt said she's not aware of any polls that have been conducted recently regarding state approval of the death penalty, but she does believe its presence in the media has raised public concern.
Dr. Andrew Fulkerson, a professor in Southeast Missouri State University's Department of Criminal Justice, also noted the lack of recent opinion polls, but said general support seems to be declining, "although somewhat slowly."
Part of the reason behind the softening support could be concern for the secrecy or safety of the drugs used for lethal injection, he said, as the process was devised with no scientific studies to support it. But Fulkerson said he believes for many, the lack of support comes down to cost.
"The cost [of the legal process] is so great. Even people that support the death penalty recognize the costs are just enormous," he said.
As a former prosecutor, he's participated in death penalty and non-death penalty trials and said the difference "is just staggering."
Tasks such as investigation, jury selection, trial and sentencing can drive up costs to the state. If a defendant is sentenced to death, state statute requires the Missouri Supreme Court to review and either uphold or strike down the sentence. That extra step also drives up expenses.
After more than two decades presiding over the 32nd Judicial Circuit, Judge William L. Syler said he's tried more than 300 jury trials, but only five capital murder cases. Like Fulkerson, he said extra effort is required for death-penalty cases.
Jury selection, for example, takes days rather than hours as the final 12 are selected from a pool of 120 people. Syler said judges have different options in the way they determine whether a juror is qualified to serve, but it's been his habit to "death qualify" each individual first.
"My theory being, there's no point in having somebody there for three days, and by the time you get around to them have them say, 'I couldn't give the death penalty to Charles Manson,'" he said. " ... There are some people who don't think it's appropriate. Some people, of course, have no compunction about cruel and unusual, argument being that if the victim had to suffer then why shouldn't the defendant?"
Once the jury is selected, the trial begins with the guilt phase, in which jurors must determine whether the defendant is guilty of first-degree murder or of a lesser crime, such as manslaughter. Should the jury determine the defendant is guilty of first-degree murder, the penalty phase follows. The only penalties for capital murder in Missouri are the death penalty or life in prison without probation or parole, and Syler said in his experience, jurors have always taken the responsibility of handing down these sentences very seriously.
"The most recent case that I tried was Ryan Patterson, a triple capital murder case, and it wouldn't have surprised me if the jury had come back with the death penalty, but they didn't," he said. "The state asked for it, but didn't get it. But [Patterson] got three life sentences without probation or parole."
In each capital murder case he's tried, Syler said clients for each side have been represented by highly capable attorneys. The local judge said he's heard anecdotally of defendants sentenced to the death penalty attempting to appeal, citing poor representation. But Syler said he's never seen a client in a capital murder case experience that firsthand.
For those who receive representation from the state's public defender's office, their cases are assigned to the capital division, which focuses solely on death-penalty cases. They always work in pairs, he said, and have their own investigator.
"They're all dedicated, hardworking, capable and competent people who believe in what they're doing," Syler said. "They're not right out of school, either. They're people that have worked their way up through the system ... and I have nothing but high regard for any of them."
Syler said he's not sure what the future holds for Missouri's death penalty, but if more states abolish the measure, he said Missouri would likely be "further down the list."
As a prosecutor, Limbaugh said he believes each state has the sovereignty to abolish or allow the death penalty. Although the argument has again found its way to the forefront, he said it's nothing new for the state.
"When Missouri abolished the death penalty ... in 1917, there was a huge national movement to abolish the death penalty, not unlike, I suppose, what we see across states today," he said. "However, if you want to take that historical perspective in mind, just after Missouri abolished the death penalty, I believe just two years later, they restored it. So I believe there is always going to be this tug and pull here, and I believe that can certainly be healthy for finding out what society believes is the most acceptable form of punishment for our most severe crimes."
srinehart@semissourian.com
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1 Barton Square, Jackson, Mo.
Bonne Terre, Mo.
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