The Courier-Journal from Louisville, Kentucky • Page 8

A8 THE COURIER-JOURNAL WEDNESDAY, JULY 2, 1997 The death penalty in Kentucky eeee.exeeetioe left indeliMe ima McQ ge Chaplain talks about McQueen's last hours A to the right, facing McQueen. "Our God," he began, "we pray for Harold McQueen, a blessed sheep of your flock." Stevens spoke of forgiveness and the restoration of souls. "Lord, Harold, your sheep, must walk through the valley or the shadow of death Receive him now as he comes to you." In a firm voice, Stevens concluded by addressing McQueen. "Harold, may you be united with Joseph, Mary and Jesus, and Cindy and Rebecca, and all the saints in heaven, and experience complete forgiveness, in Jesus' name we pray." The men in blue returned to the chamber and began attaching the hardware of death to McQueen. There was a bowl-shaped piece of headgear sometimes called a helmet, a contraption consisting of leather straps, electrodes and a light brown sponge soaked in salt water, the better to conduct electricity.

THE HELMET was strapped under McQueen's chin, and another bracing strap was run tightly around his mouth, in effect gagging him. With his face distorted from the straps, McQueen's eyes met Stevens'. His old friend said, "I love you, son," and McQueen mumbled, "I love you, father" through the leather across his mouth. Or at least, that is what reporters believed they heard him say. Without delay, two of the men in blue placed a leather veil on McQueen's headgear not a hood, as it's often called consisting of a strip of dark brown leather that hung across his face to about the middle of his chest.

McQueen's eyes were open when the veil was lowered, seeing their last of the world. Two other men knelt to affix another electrical connection, also buffered by a saline-soaked sponge, to McQueen's right calf. Through these and the headgear, electricity would flow for two minutes 2,100 volts for 15 seconds, and 250 volts for 105 seconds. With the connections in place, one of the men in blue appeared to touch McQueen's shoulder as he left the chamber for the final time. Or perhaps it was just to check the equipment.

It was 12:05 a.m., Central Daylight Time. PARKER WAS the last person to leave the execution chamber, flipping a switch to turn off the microphone as he went. If McQueen were to make any noise, the witnesses probably would not be able to hear it. A minute or so passed, during which Parker made sure that the state Continued from Page One ecution team," as it was designated, strapped him firmly in place. As two of the men leaned over him, McQueen's right hand stretched outward between them, holding something.

Paul Stevens, the volunteer prison chaplain who had grown close to McQueen, held out his hand, too, and McQueen dropped a rosary into it a rosary that once belonged to Stevens' daughter, Cynthia, herself a murder victim in 1969. WHEN THE men in blue parted and left the room, McQueen's face was clearly visible to the witnesses for the first time. Soft and round, bald now, and expressionless, he was a manacled Buddha. If there was fear of death inside him, it wasn't on his face. There were reports earlier in the day that McQueen would let Stevens speak his final words, but now, with the moment upon him, McQueen spoke for himself.

"I'd like to apologize one more time to the O'Hearn family for he said. His next word was garbled as it traveled through the chamber's hanging microphone and out of the witness room speaker. "What was he apologizing for?" all the reporters would ask each other later. No one had been able to capture the word. McQueen had swallowed it, and it was gone.

"I'D LIKE to apologize to my family, because they're victims as well," McQueen added. His voice was calm and deliberate, and the hill country of Madison County was in his accent. His eyes, it seemed, were fixed on something low, perhaps even the floor. "I'd like to thank everybody that sent me cards and letters and prayers," he said, adding, "Everybody that sent me that, tell them to keep fighting the death penalty." McQueen had used perhaps 30 seconds of the two minutes allotted to him in the execution timetable, but he had said everything he wanted to say. If he wished to declare himself innocent of being the triggerman, and to pin the blame on his half brother, as his lawyers had been doing for more than a week, his chance had come and gone.

If he wished to expressly confess his guilt, his chance for that had come and gone as well. If he wished to take the details of the O'Hearn killing to his grave, his chance was at hand. Holding a red Bible, Stevens stood June Linville, right, girlfriend of Harold McQueen, and her daughter, Misty Piatt, held a candle as they talked about their opposition to the death penalty outside the penitentiary near Eddyville before the execution. attorney general's representative on hand had not been notified of any last-minute orders stopping the execution. McQueen sat motionless as a rock, awaiting his fate.

When it came, at 12:06, his fists clenched, but there was little other movement of the body. There were no visible seizures, spasms or jerks. A small trail of steam rose briefly from the sponge on his right calf, a normal occurrence in such electrocutions that prison officials had predicted; no steam was observed arising from the sponge on his head. There was no smoke. McQUEEN REMAINED motionless as the remainder of the current was applied.

His right heel was off the floor and his bare foot appeared flexed, toes bent, as if he was about to arise. Excess saline solution dripped down the lower leg. His death failed to illuminate the debate that was waged during the final weeks of his life: whether electro 0 A BY JAMES M. WALLACE, THE COUHItR-JOURNAL McQueen's right arm and inflated it. He felt the right side of McQueen's neck.

Then he pressed a stethoscope to McQueen's chest. This man spoke briefly to Parker and left the room, upon which a second man, dressed in a coat and tie, entered, felt the neck, listened to the chest, spoke to Parker and left. It was 12:15, a mere 15 minutes after McQueen had strode into the chamber. THE WARDEN, a ramrod-straight man with a dark moustache, turned to the witnesses. With McQueen lifeless in the chair behind him, Parker declared, "At approximately 12:07 a.m.

on July 1, 1997, the execution of Harold McQueen was carried out in accordance with the laws of the Commonwealth of Kentucky." With his left hand, he reached above the viewing window and closed the curtain on Kentucky's death chamber. sabotage Harold McQueen's trial," Lewis said. He said that at the time of McQueen's 1981 trial, a group of public advocates met to try to help attorneys representing defendants facing possible death sentences. But he said that group did not sabotage McQueen by ignoring him. "The fact is, we couldn't help most people who needed our help," Lewis said.

"Given our resources and our role, there was nothing we could do for Harold McQueen." IN ANOTHER development yesterday, State Police Trooper Chuck Robertson, a spokesman at the May-field post, said videotapes and photographs were taken Monday and early yesterday of death penalty opponents holding a vigil outside the prison. He said the taping was to document any unrest, and since there were no problems, the material would not be given to the prison to review. State police arrested three people on drug charges, Robertson said: Erik Reinhart, 30, and Abraham Lentz, 21, both of Louisville, were arrested when an officer looking under the hood of their car alleged he found marijuana concealed inside the air filter; and David W. Luckett of La-Grange, a limousine driver who was transporting the winners of a radio station contest to the prison, was charged with marijuana possession. Information for this story was also gathered by staff writer James Malone.

11 sP 1 Patton sees execution as warning about evils of drugs By NIKITA STEWART The Courier-Journal DAWSON SPRINGS, Ky. Harold McQueen Jr. did not get his dying wish assurance of forgiveness from the O'Hearn family. But he hoped people would remember him not as the man who killed Rebecca O'Hearn, but as a man who changed. "He wants to be thought of as a good person," said volunteer prison chaplain Paul Stevens, McQueen's spiritual adviser.

"That's all he wants to be." Stevens, in an interview yesterday, continued to talk about McQueen as if he were still alive. Stevens, his eyes drooping after four hours of sleep, counseled McQueen from 6 p.m. Monday until he was executed early yesterday morning. Stevens also met immediately afterward with the 30 men who remain on death row, delivering McQueen's message to find strength through faith in God. Stevens said the other death row inmates fear a series of executions will follow McQueen's the first in Kentucky in 35 years.

Stevens said that on Monday night, he and McQueen shared cheesecake, coffee and "chitchat." They talked about people who had visited McQueen, the other death row inmates, McQueen's family and his life. "You can't feel sorry for Harold because Harold is much better off," he said. "Harold was ready. "I would rather Harold had not been killed, but that's my selfish thing." Yesterday afternoon, Stevens sat in the dining room of his Dawson Springs home. On the table were some of McQueen's belongings a soft-pack of Marlboro cigarettes, an Armitron quartz watch with a silver band and gold trim, and a metal cross with a metal chain.

The watch will go to his mother, the cross to Frank Tamme, a death row inmate convicted for the 1983 killing of two men in a Washington County marijuana field. Stevens, 76, leads an ironic life as a death row chaplain. His daughter, Cynthia Stevens, was stabbed to death at age 20 in 1969. Her killer was convicted of murder but was released from prison after seven years because of errors in his trial. Stevens had allowed McQueen to keep Cynthia's rosary.

Yesterday, Stevens held it in his right hand, then cupped his left hand and placed the rosary in it. McQueen gave it back to him before he died, Stevens said. Stevens described McQueen as peaceful at the end as they prayed together. The prayer ended, "Your goodness and kindness have followed him all the days of his life since he has turned to you. Receive him now as he comes to your home and he will dwell in your house forever.

Amen." Stevens then told McQueen that he would reunite in heaven with Cynthia, O'Hearn, Mary, Joseph and Jesus. "He had a big smile on his face," Stevens said. "I said, 'I love you son, and I'll really miss "He said, 'I love you, "That's the first time he ever called me that." Stevens said McQueen had made his peace with God. But he hated reading the newspaper and seeing the word "murderer" in front of his name. "I was a murderer long ago," Stevens said McQueen told him in his last hours.

But, he said, "I'd like to be thought of as somebody good." Funeral arrangements for McQueen are being handled by Lakes Funeral Home in Berea. A funeral-home representative said the family has planned a private service. ASSOCIATED PRESS ILLUSTRATION from survivors and victims' relatives at yesterday's announcement ceremony- Not all were pleased. "I'm tired of people lining their pockets with my husband's memory," said Tina Tomlin, who lost her hub-band, Rick. "1 think that fence and the bombed building over there is the best memorial.

How else to show what an explosion looks like?" Each design finalist received a prize of $15,000. A contract with the winning designers will be negotiated. By TOM LOFTUS The Courier-Journal FRANKFORT, Ky. Gov. Paul Pat-ton's only comment on the execution of Harold McQueen Jr.

yesterday was that he hoped it would serve as a lesson about the evils of drug abuse. And he indicated he had an open mind on the question of whether Kentucky should replace electrocution with lethal injection as its means of execution. Legislation has been filed to give death-row inmates the option of lethal injection. Also yesterday, the Department of Public Advocacy, a state agency whose lawyers handled the appeals of McQueen, called for a moratorium on executions, saying the death penalty is carried out unfairly. Public Advocacy's director, Erwin Lewis, also said he would ask for an independent investigation of allegations made during McQueen's last-minute appeals that in 1980, the department's lawyers withheld legal help from McQueen to set up a claim that he was deprived of adequate legal representation during his trial.

At the Kentucky State Penitentiary in Eddyville, life had largely returned to normal yesterday, prison officials said. No incidents were reported and a lockdown begun Monday was lifted, said spokesman Barry Banister. The execution squad, composed of guards from two other Western Kentucky prisons, left soon after McQueen's death. Banister said he was not aware of any team members asking for counseling that was made available. IN A STATEMENT released by Patton's office, he said, "It is my hope that the execution will stand as a grim reminder for all of us, expecially for the children of Kentucky, of the consequences of drugs.

"The case of Harold McQueen shows us that a life of drugs leads to a life of crime with death as the ultimate end. It not only led to Mr. McQueen's death but to that of his victim, Rebecca O'Hearn. Any of our children could end up on either side of these tragedies," Patton said. McQueen began drinking heavily as a youth and later became a drug addict; he was drunk on whiskey and high on Valium and marijuana when he shot O'Hearn during the robbery of a Richmond convenience store on Jan.

17, 1980. Mark Pfeiffer, a spokesman for, the governor, said Patton was busy in meetings all day yesterday and would not be available for further comment. Patton's statement noted briefly that he remains open to listening to the legislative debate over replacing electrocution with lethal injection. THE CHIEF legislative advocate of lethal injection, Rep. Mike Bowling, said yesterday that reports that McQueen's execution did not appear so gruesome as some witnesses expected should not slow the push for approval of lethal injection.

cution amounts to cruel and unusual punishment. Those who say it doesn't might point to the fact that McQueen's body moved only slightly, and briefly; nothing flamed, they would say, and no blood was seen. And while the state was prepared to administer a second two-minute surge of electricity if needed, that was not necessary; he died on the first try. ON THE other hand, those who believe electrocution is cruel could well argue that no one knows what McQueen felt, or whether he suffered. After all, the microphone was turned off and his face was covered, sanitizing the scene observed by the witnesses.

At 12:11, medical personnel entered the chamber and began examining McQueen's body. They were not identified by name for reporters, but at least one was a physician. The first man to enter the room applied a blood-pressure cuff to ered results to be mixed, Lewis said, "There were an awful lot of attorneys and support staff here who worked awfully hard on this. They did everything they could to save his life." The statement from Lewis' department said McQueen's execution strengthened the department's resolve to call for a moratorium on executions until the death penalty is administered fairly. "Harold McQueen's death demonstrates the death penalty in Kentucky is administered in a deeply flawed manner," the statement said.

LEWIS SAID that the most obvious flaw in McQueen's case is that indigent defendants with underfunded, ineffective trial counsel are more likely to end up being executed. Lewis said that McQueen's court-appointed trial lawyer was ineffective an allegation that numerous courts rejected during McQueen's 16 years of appeals. But Lewis disputed the allegation made last week by one of his own department's lawyers that certain public advocates agreed to deprive McQueen of legal help in 1980 so that his court-appointed lawyer's ineffective representation would provide grounds for an appeal. Lewis, who is one of the attorneys who was alleged to have been involved, said he would ask for an outside investigation of that allegation. "While we'll get an independent report on this allegation, I must say that I deny categorically any conspiracy to relatives, survivors, community volunteers and design professionals unanimously chose the $9 million design from five finalists, picked from 624.

Organizers, who plan to raise the money privately, have already collected $2.5 million. Construction is expected to begin next year. The winning design "just exudes the spirit that we were looking for," said committee member Cheryl Scrog-gins, whose husband, Lanny, was killed in the blast. The committee was swayed by a plan to preserve the building's outline, which many victims' relatives view as sacred ground, she said. The 168 chairs will sit in nine rows to evoke the nine floors of the Alfred P.

Murrah Federal Building, destroyed in the April 19, 1995 bombing. Nineteen of the chairs will be smaller, representing the 19 children killed in the blast. Tall evergreen trees will replace the walls of the building. Other designs in the competition envisioned a leaning granite wall to symbolize both the fall of the building and the pioneer spirit of a a series of glass walls recallit the fence "If this execution was not so gruesome, I'm glad," said Bowling, a Mid-dlesboro Democrat who heads the House Judiciary Committee. "But I still think the electric chair is as archaic as hanging or the firing squad.

I believe the electric chair must be painful for at least a couple of seconds, and the courts will one day find it a cruel and unusual form of punishment." Bowling's draft legislation would give the 30 men remaining on death row the option of lethal injection or the electric chair, and persons sentenced to death in the future would be executed by lethal injection. Bowling's proposal also would allow members of the family of the victim to witness an execution. BOWLING SAID he would like to have Patton add his bill to the, agenda of a special session the governor may call in September to consider health insurance legislation. "I don't mind waiting until the 1998 regular session if we're not going to have any executions before early 1998," Bowling said. The 1998 session starts in January.

Lewis, the state public advocate, said yesterday he expects it will be at least eight months before the next possible execution. Lewis released a statement saying the Department of Public Advocacy had met its duties in representing McQueen "with mixed results." Asked in an interview how, in light of McQueen's execution, he consid By PAUL QUEARY Associated Press OKLAHOMA CITY One hundred sixty-eight stone-and-glass chairs one for each person killed in the Oklahoma City bombing will be erected at the site as a memorial. The design was selected yesterday after an international competition. The chairs, their backs and seats made of stone, will appear to float above glass bases during the day. At night, lights will illuminate the names inscribed on them.

Across a reflecting pool, the Survivors Tree an elm scarred by the blast will be surrounded by a low circular wall also inscribed with the names of the survivors. "When you see an empty chair, you see the emptiness, the absence," said Torrey Butzer, an Oklahoma native who now lives in Germany with her husband. She and her husband, Hans-Ekkehard Butzer, who both graduated from the University of Texas architecture school, designed the memorial with Sven Berg. A 15-member committee of victims' OKLAHOMA BOMBING MEMORIAL A design unveiled yesterday for the permanent memorial to the Oklahoma City bombing features 168 stone and glass chairs, each inscribed with the name of When you see an empty chair, you see the emptiness, the absence' Memorial design chosen for Oklahoma City "HJM JLt WJ A --r rx it) Journal II frtV Record 1 11LV Building 1 I I Survivors Tree pa I 1 IIji 1 1 I 'II a victim. surrounding the bomb site that serves as a makeshift memorial; and a series of buildings filled with victims' belongings, engineered so the sun would illuminate each victim's area at noon on his or her birthday.

Survivors' names will be carved not only on the wall surrounding the elm but also on pieces of salvaged granite to be hung on the only remaining part of the federal building, a parking garage topped with a plaza. The young design team, all under 32, received warm congratulations 'Existing Plaza rrTlJU7, 'J 'i Ljgjgry-1 ji tzf 1 i I LJ I i I 'i I 1 1 1 I ASSOCIATED PRESS Susan Thompson held her daughter, Vanessa, at the ceremony announcing the winner of the design contest. Her husband, one of the competition'! lost his mother in the bombing..