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Henderson Hill, J.D., 8th Amendment Project |
At the intersection of moral, legal, political and societal issues that surround the death penalty are difficult questions of racial disparities in the criminal justice system.
Statewide and national delegates heard from legal experts, family members who lost loved ones to murder, and elected officials as the NAACP-Aurora Branch hosted the annual NAACP state convention that included representatives from across Colorado, Wyoming and Montana.
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NAACP State President Rosemary Lytle |
“The death penalty is such a barbaric punishment that is so at odds with traditions of liberty and protection of life fundamental to our country,” says Hill. “It’s difficult to reconcile with our principles.”
Hill, who considers himself a “child of the 1960s” Civil Rights movement, has served as a public defender for many years. He has devoted his career to the practice of law, in an effort to bring the courthouse to the larger community.
Hill’s experience and scholarship have revealed the intractability of injustice and racism from death penalty cases. In the wake of the Civil Rights movement, when the country and the courts were torn in "many different directions," the death penalty was the one issue that united courts, especially in the South, says Hill.
“There was a broad consensus that the death penalty was reserved for the prosecution of African Americans, largely in the South, largely for sexual offenses against white women,” he says.
Fast-forward to the 1980s and 1990s, when race continued to have an undue influence on prosecution, jury selection, and other legal maneuverings. He pointed to the example of fellow North Carolinians Leon Brown and Henry McCollum, who were both released from death row in 2014 after 31 years wrongful imprisonment.
“Not only were they innocent, but if law enforcement had just focused on regular policing work, they would have found the perpetrator within 100 yards of the crime scene,” Hill says.
Closer to home, Hill mentions that the three people on death row in Colorado – Nathan Dunlap, Sir Mario Owens and Robert Ray – not only hail from the same county, but have also attended the same high school.
Dunlap was sentenced to death for the 1993 shooting of four people, while Owens and Ray were convicted for their role in the murder of a court witness Javad Marshall-Fields and his fiancee, Vivian Wolfe. Marshall-Fields’ mother, State Senator Rhonda Fields, shared her remarks in the succeeding panel.
While Black people only represent 13 percent of the U.S. population, more than 40 percent of inmates sentenced to death row are Black.
“The death penalty epitomizes the problem with criminal justice system. When I look at who’s on death row, almost all are poor, and almost all of them are without effective advocates.” Hill draws from more than 35 years of practice and seeing the benefits of diversion and judgments that are created an executed differently.
“Justice means more than retributive punishment. Accountability can be achieved with something other than the harshest level of justice,” he says. “We’ve been tinkering with the machinery of death, and it’s not just working.”
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From left: Hill, Arapahoe County DA George Bauchler and State Sen. Rhonda Fields |
Following Hill’s remarks, Ngozi Ndulue, J.D. Senior Director of Criminal Justice NAACP National, moderated the panel that included Hill, Cherner, the Rev. Al Koger, MDiv., of New Hope Baptist Church, State Senator Rhonda Fields (D) Senate District 49; and Arapahoe County District Attorney George Bauchler.
State Senator Fields shared the personal anguish of a mother whose son was targeted for cooperating with a police investigation of a murder.
“Two of the people who are on death row right now – Sir Mario Owens and Robert Ray – ambushed and murdered my son and his fiancĂ©e on June 20, 2005,” she says. “My son saw a murder take place. He was murdered to silence his testimony, to prevent him from testifying five days before the trial.”
Fields says that she supports the labor and work that went into seeking justice for her son, although it’s not a popular position. For months and years following her son’s death, she continuously defended the decision to seek the death penalty for the two men. “I get criticized in the community. People ask me: why did you let your son participate with the police?” she says. “I raised my son to have the values that made him want to participate in the criminal justice system. That system failed him.”
In 2010, Fields ran for the State Senate in an effort to advocate for legislation that guarantees better protections for witnesses. “I turned that pain and grief into being actively involved in public policy, to make sure than another wouldn’t have to bury their son for participating in the criminal justice system,” she says.
Fields says that agreeing to pursue the death penalty for her son’s murderers is not about revenge or anger. “This is not about being whole. As a mother who has lost her son – the death penalty conviction of Robert Ray and Sir Mario Owens will never make me whole. I live everyday with the deepness of the loss of not having him with me,” she says.
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State Sen. Fields and Rev. Al Koger |
Rev. Al Koger of New Hope Church shared his grief over losing his father to violence. He was 16 years old at the time.
“We lost a tremendous part of the leadership of our family. My mother ended up raising all five of us by herself,” he says.” I have been a wounded person for a number of years.”
With the guidance of his grandmother, Koger says that he was able to turn around his loss and pain by deciding to devote his life to the Christian faith.
“I realized that I have to forgive him now. All of us have to get off our conscience the idea of waiting to forgive somebody. Tomorrow is not promised,” he says. “I had to love the gentleman who killed my father because Christ was nailed to the cross on his behalf.”
Koger says that his fervent belief that “God is love” had helped him to serve others who are also dealing with the agony of loss. “When I gave my life to Jesus, I was able to preach Christ’s gospel,” he says. “I was able to tell others that it is possible to heal over the loss of life.”
Forgiveness is key, Koger says. Although he acknowledges that pain could be too much for some to consider the notion. He does not believe that healing comes from the taking of another life. “We’ve got to belief in restorative justice, and the ability to rehabilitate young people who make foolish decisions in the heat of the moment,” he says.
”For a young person with a flash of ignorant emotion who had the ability to take somebody’s life, I have to err on the side of mercy.”