There were a num­ber of fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims who appeared before the Commission to share their per­son­al expe­ri­ences with homi­cide and the crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tem. They expressed their oppo­si­tion, as vic­tims, to the death penal­ty. As I lis­tened to their tes­ti­mo­ny, and as I do when I lis­ten to the expe­ri­ences of any fam­i­ly mem­ber of a mur­der vic­tim, whether they sup­port, oppose, or have no opin­ion on the death penal­ty, I felt a sense of shared expe­ri­ence, empa­thy, and sol­i­dar­i­ty. My father, Robert Cushing, Sr., was shot­gunned to death in front of my moth­er in our fam­i­ly home two decades ago. For me, think­ing about what should be done after a mur­der hap­pens is not just an intel­lec­tu­al exer­cise; it’s part of my life. The pain that is dif­fi­cult to give words to, the empti­ness and trau­ma, are part of my per­son­al real­i­ty that I brought to the work of the Commission.

I served on the Commission with two oth­er fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims: Bob Charron, whose son Officer Jeremy Charron was mur­dered in Epsom in 1997, and Brad Whitney, whose father Eli Whitney was mur­dered in 2001. Although we end­ed up dis­agree­ing about the death penal­ty, their pres­ence on the Commission was impor­tant to me. At times when a wit­ness or a mem­ber of the Commission would embark on an expla­na­tion of legal intri­ca­cies or the the­o­ries and arcane points about sta­tis­ti­cal analy­sis, I would get a sense that some­how the real­i­ty of the mur­der of real peo­ple was get­ting lost in the process. It was good to know I was not the only per­son in the room who felt in his gut that this was not just a the­o­ret­i­cal dis­cus­sion. I thank both Bob and Brad.

The coura­geous voic­es of fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims the Commission heard from came from diverse back­grounds, and the details of their tragedies and loss­es were illus­tra­tive of the com­plex­i­ty of mur­der. They shared in com­mon a belief as co-vic­tim­s/­sur­vivors that the death penal­ty sys­tem is not some­thing they embraced, and rec­om­mend­ed its repeal. They dif­fered in their rea­sons for oppos­ing cap­i­tal pun­ish­ment, and the process by which they came their posi­tion was unique to each per­son. Among the voic­es the Commission mem­bers heard from were:

  • Bud Welch, whose daugh­ter Julie was killed in the bomb­ing of the Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City, who opposed the exe­cu­tion of ter­ror­ist Timothy Mc Veigh;
  • Gail Rice, whose broth­er Bruce VanderJagt was a Denver police offi­cer killed in the line of duty, who spoke of her expe­ri­ence as a law enforce­ment fam­i­ly mem­ber opposed to the death penalty;
  • Nancy Filiault, whose sis­ter Kitty, her daugh­ter Rachel and son Kyle were mur­dered dur­ing a bru­tal home invasion;
  • Arnie Alpert, whose grand­fa­ther Charlie Alpert was mur­dered with a claw ham­mer in his hardware store;
  • Andrea LeBlanc, whose hus­band Robert Le Blanc was killed in the World Trade Center dur­ing the September 11th terrorist attack;
  • Carol Stamatakis, whose father Emmanuel Mike” Stamatakis was mur­dered in his store in 1997, a mur­der which remains unsolved;
  • Sandra Place, whose moth­er Mildred Place was mur­dered in New Jersey, who shared the night­mare her fam­i­ly expe­ri­enced as the death penal­ty ele­vat­ed the killer in the media into a notorious prisoner;
  • Laura Bonk, whose moth­er Laura Hardy was mur­dered and whose sis­ter, who was shot at the same time as her moth­er, years lat­er still strug­gles to recov­er from years of surgery she under­went as a result of the shooting;
  • Ann Lyczak, whose hus­band Richard Lyczak was mur­dered, and she and her son injured when attacked while rid­ing in their car;
  • Bess Klassen- Landis, whose moth­er was mur­dered when Bess was 13, and the killer never apprehended;
  • Bob Curley, whose son Jeffrey was kid­napped by pedophiles, sex­u­al­ly defiled and abused and mur­dered and then his body was tossed in a riv­er on the Maine-NH bor­der. Bob shared the sto­ry of how after his son’s killing he led the effort to rein­state the death penal­ty in Massachusetts, but now oppos­es capital punishment;
  • Margaret Hawthorne, whose daugh­ter Molly Hawthorne MacDougall was mur­dered in Henniker on April 29th of this year, who, even as she awaits the tri­al of the man accused of killing Molly, found a way in her pain to bear wit­ness in her daughter’s mem­o­ry to ask the Commission to rec­om­mend abo­li­tion of the death penalty.

Clearly it must be rec­og­nized and acknowl­edged that those wit­ness­es, and all fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims, are stake­hold­ers in the dis­cus­sion and pub­lic pol­i­cy debate about what should be done, by soci­ety and indi­vid­u­als, in the after­math of murder.

The pres­ence of those fam­i­ly mem­bers and their shar­ing of their expe­ri­ences was a gift to the Commission. It was, there­fore, dis­ap­point­ing to me that when it came time for the Commission to delib­er­ate about what we had learned over our year of work togeth­er and what our find­ings and rec­om­men­da­tions should be, we failed to dis­cuss or explore in any depth as a group the com­pli­cat­ed and painful expe­ri­ences of peo­ple who have had fam­i­ly mem­bers mur­dered, and the indi­vid­ual and fam­i­ly jour­neys of sur­vivors after lives had been shat­tered by a homicide.

I’d like to think that, despite the best efforts of Judge Murphy and all of us to keep on sched­ule, maybe we as a Commission just ran out of time for such a com­pli­cat­ed dis­cus­sion. In hind­sight, per­haps it would have been more use­ful and appro­pri­ate for the leg­is­la­ture to direct the Commission to begin an exam­i­na­tion of the death penal­ty by ask­ing and answer­ing this fundamental question:

What are the needs of the sur­viv­ing fam­i­ly mem­bers of murder victims?”

From my per­spec­tive, I believe there needs to be what Victim Advocate Susan Herman has iden­ti­fied as a par­al­lel sys­tem of jus­tice for vic­tims of crime, includ­ing co-vic­tims of homi­cide. Parallel Justice seeks to iden­ti­fy those who have been hurt by crim­i­nal acts, asks what the harm is the vic­tim has suf­fered, and strives to take actions that mit­i­gate and repair the harm that has been done to vic­tims. This process need not be depen­dent upon the actions or sta­tus of the crim­i­nal offend­er, but is done out of a recog­ni­tion of com­mu­ni­ty respon­si­bil­i­ty and solidarity.

The two gen­er­al areas that have the great­est impact upon vic­tims of crime are the impuni­ty of crim­i­nals and repa­ra­tions for vic­tims. Impunity means exemp­tion from pun­ish­ment or loss.” Victims’ con­cerns about impuni­ty focus on the actions of crim­i­nals, stop­ping those who engage in mur­der and crim­i­nal activ­i­ties from com­mit­ting fur­ther crime and hold­ing them account­able for the crimes they have com­mit­ted. Reparations for vic­tims of crime focus upon those who have been harmed by homi­cide and oth­er crimes, and attempt to address the harm to mit­i­gate and repair the dam­age. Prioritizing end­ing the impuni­ty of mur­der­ers and pro­vid­ing help and sup­port to vic­tims are impor­tant to the heal­ing process a sur­vivor of a mur­der vic­tim must go through.

Testimony before the Commission demon­strat­ed that, whether one sup­port­ed or opposed cap­i­tal pun­ish­ment in the­o­ry, the real­i­ty of the death penal­ty sys­tem in prac­tice is it just doesn’t work. It doesn’t make the pub­lic or police safer, it is prone to mis­takes that snare inno­cent peo­ple, and it is not a good use of scarce pub­lic resources. And rather than being some kind of a balm for the pain for mur­der vic­tims fam­i­ly mem­bers, it is both a per­cep­tion and a real­i­ty that the death penal­ty is a dis­trac­tion from meet­ing the over­all needs of sur­vivors of homicide victims.

It is clear from a look at our past that New Hampshire dis­likes the death penal­ty. In the 380-year his­to­ry of New Hampshire there have only been 24 exe­cu­tions, the last one being in 1939. Two of those exe­cu­tions are reminders of cur­rent con­cerns about the death penal­ty: wrong­ful con­vic­tions and race. Ruth Blay, put to death in 1768, was the last woman exe­cut­ed in the state, and was, accord­ing to some his­tor­i­cal accounts, wrong­ly” exe­cut­ed. Thomas Powers, exe­cut­ed for rape in 1796, was an African-American man who is the only per­son ever exe­cut­ed in the state for a crime that did not involve the mur­der of another person.

Capital pun­ish­ment involves only a tiny frac­tion of mur­ders com­mit­ted in New Hampshire, and when the state decides to seek a death penal­ty it is a rad­i­cal depar­ture from the norm. As a rare event, seek­ing a death penal­ty in a mur­der case sig­nals that, from the per­spec­tive of the state, all vic­tims are not of equal val­ue. The will­ing­ness to devote a dis­pro­por­tion­ate amount of resources to pros­e­cute a death penal­ty case in com­par­i­son to oth­er mur­der cas­es, calls into ques­tion the government’s com­mit­ment to all vic­tims. No mat­ter what the Attorney General or the leg­is­la­ture or the media believe to be or attempt to des­ig­nate as the most heinous homi­cide that demands a rit­u­al killing of the mur­der­er by the state, for every per­son who has had a fam­i­ly mem­ber mur­dered, the worst, the most painful, the most awful and heinous mur­der is the mur­der of their loved one. Whether intend­ed or not, implic­it in the deci­sion to mobi­lize resources to seek a death penal­ty is the mes­sage to fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims where the death penal­ty is not sought that the life of their par­ent or child or sib­ling or spouse is some­how of less val­ue than the life of the per­son for whose mur­der the state seeks an exe­cu­tion. There is a per­cep­tion among many vic­tims that this cre­ation by gov­ern­ment pol­i­cy of a hier­ar­chy of vic­tims in some way dam­ages to the mem­o­ry of their mur­dered loved one.

The state of New Hampshire has demon­strat­ed the will­ing­ness and resolve to spend mil­lions of dol­lars from the state’s gen­er­al fund on both the pros­e­cu­tion and defense of a sin­gle killer charged with a cap­i­tal mur­der. As the Commission met, the state has been in the midst of a severe bud­get cri­sis that has impact­ed jus­tice and pub­lic safe­ty— police and prison guards are being laid off, cour­t­hous­es are shut­tered on some days, and crime vic­tims call­ing the vic­tims assis­tance com­mis­sion are greet­ed with a voice mes­sage instead of a human being. And, at the same time the state has focused lim­it­ed resources in pur­suit of a death penal­ty, the state spends no gen­er­al fund mon­ey to fund com­pen­sa­tion for vic­tims of crime, includ­ing sur­viv­ing fam­i­ly mem­bers of homi­cide vic­tims, and no gen­er­al fund mon­ey on the inves­ti­ga­tion of cold case homicides.

The Commission heard tes­ti­mo­ny of how, just days after the arrest of Michael Addison for the mur­der Officer Michael Briggs, the Attorney General went before the Fiscal Committee and Governor and Council to request and be grant­ed $400,000 for the pros­e­cu­tion of that one homi­cide. This request was made under a lit­tle known pro­vi­sion of state law, RSA 7 – 12, which per­mits the Attorney General to obtain funds out­side the reg­u­lar bud­get process of appro­pri­at­ing state gen­er­al fund dol­lars. In con­trast to this, dur­ing the 2009 ses­sion of the leg­is­la­ture, the Attorney General’s office opposed pro­posed leg­is­la­tion that would enable the Attorney General to obtain funds under RSA 7 – 12 for the Victims Assistance Commission to pro­vide finan­cial sup­port for crime victims.

This rais­es the ques­tion: Why is it more impor­tant to the leg­is­la­ture and Attorney General of the state of New Hampshire to fund a death penal­ty pros­e­cu­tion than it is to pro­vide com­pen­sa­tion and assis­tance for the fam­i­lies of mur­der vic­tims and oth­er vic­tims of crime?

Instead of mak­ing it a pri­or­i­ty to spend mil­lions of dol­lars to pur­sue exe­cut­ing a pris­on­er, the leg­is­la­ture should pri­or­i­tize poli­cies of par­al­lel jus­tice for crime vic­tims, with the funds being spent to pur­sue the death penal­ty and oth­er resources redi­rect­ed to focus on meet­ing the needs of mur­der vic­tims’ families.

To that end I make the fol­low­ing sug­ges­tions for action by the leg­is­la­ture to help fur­ther secure jus­tice for crime victims:

  1. Remove the sun­set pro­vi­sion from the law that set up the Cold Case Homicide Unit and, by statute, estab­lish the unit as a per­ma­nent oper­a­tion, with its own line item in the state bud­get. It is cur­rent­ly sched­uled to go out of exis­tence on June 302011.
  2. As part of the state’s com­mit­ment to find jus­tice for all homi­cide vic­tims, the leg­is­la­ture should pro­vide an annu­al appro­pri­a­tion from the state’s gen­er­al fund equiv­a­lent to $15,000 for each out­stand­ing unsolved mur­der to sup­port the work of the Cold Case Homicide Unit. Based upon the cur­rent list of approx­i­mate­ly 115 unsolved mur­ders, this would amount to an appro­pri­a­tion of $1,725,000. a year, a frac­tion of the cost of a sin­gle death penal­ty case. I note that this fig­ure is also less than the $1,778,000. to con­struct a lethal injec­tion cham­ber to address the poten­tial of future cap­i­tal crime con­vic­tions” that is includ­ed Department of Corrections Comprehensive Master Plan of July 10, 2008 that was pro­vid­ed to the Commission.
  3. Raise or elim­i­nate the cap on the amount of mon­ey sur­viv­ing fam­i­ly of homi­cide vic­tims are eli­gi­ble to receive from the Victims Assistance Fund. With a lim­it of $25,000 on the amount of assis­tance a vic­tim can receive, New Hampshire ranks near the bot­tom of states in their sup­port for vic­tims. The state of Washington, for exam­ple, caps com­pen­sa­tion at $100,000, while the state of New York has no cap on medical expenses.
  4. End the 2‑year statute of lim­i­ta­tions on when a sur­vivor of a homi­cide vic­tim must apply for assis­tance from the Victims Assistance Commission. The impact of homi­cide is long last­ing, and some­times needs of a vic­tim, such as coun­sel­ing for PTSD, do not man­i­fest them­selves until years after a mur­der. There is not a statute of lim­i­ta­tions for pros­e­cu­tion for mur­der; there should not be a statute of lim­i­ta­tions on pro­vid­ing help for sur­vivors of murder victims.
  5. Establish, fund and pro­vide sus­tain­ing sup­port for a sup­port group for sur­vivors of homi­cide vic­tims. At the present time there is no exist­ing group or net­work in the state where those who have been harmed by homi­cide can find peer sup­port and inter­ac­tion. It is incred­i­bly iso­lat­ing to go through the expe­ri­ence of the mur­der of a fam­i­ly mem­ber, and the inevitable retrauma­ti­za­tion that vic­tims expe­ri­ence though the crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tem. It is axiomat­ic that the only per­son who can tru­ly under­stand what that process is like is some­one who has shared a similar experience.
  6. Enact vic­tims’ leave law to require employ­ers to give unpaid leave to their employ­ees who are sur­vivors of homi­cide vic­tims to attend tri­als and oth­er legal pro­ceed­ings– sim­i­lar to the way we treat jurors. It is often impor­tant to a victim’s effort to reclaim con­trol over their life that vic­tim gain infor­ma­tion about the mur­der of their loved one and to bear wit­ness by observ­ing tri­als. Public pol­i­cy should rec­og­nize this need for victims.
  7. Recognize the impact of mur­der on fam­i­lies is long last­ing and mul­ti-gen­er­a­tional and estab­lish a fund to pro­vide post sec­ondary edu­ca­tion to the chil­dren and spous­es of murder victims.
  8. Amend RSA 7 – 12 to autho­rize the Attorney General, when nec­es­sary to meet the needs of vic­tims of crime, to seek and obtain funds out­side the reg­u­lar bud­get and appro­pri­a­tions process. As a mat­ter of fair­ness and jus­tice, it should be equal­ly as impor­tant to ensure that crime vic­tims receive assis­tance as it is to see that crim­i­nals are prosecuted.

In addi­tion to divert­ing atten­tion from the needs of vic­tims, the death penal­ty sys­tem can some­times oper­ate ways that does some victims harm.

The death penal­ty can divide and dam­age fam­i­lies. Because death is dif­fer­ent”, and because indi­vid­u­als have deeply held beliefs about the moral­i­ty and util­i­ty of exe­cu­tions, unlike any oth­er pun­ish­ment the death penal­ty some­times cre­ates irrec­on­cil­able con­flict amongst the sur­viv­ing fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims. At a time when mutu­al sup­port to weath­er a shared loss is so impor­tant, dis­agree­ment over the death penal­ty, instead of help­ing bring fam­i­lies togeth­er, cre­ates fis­sures and com­pounds the tragedy of murder.

The death penal­ty fos­ters a hier­ar­chy of vic­tims. Depending upon one’s per­spec­tive, fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims are often judged by oth­ers on their posi­tion on the death penal­ty, and get divid­ed into cat­e­gories of good vic­tims” and bad vic­tims.” Sometimes fam­i­ly mem­bers of mur­der vic­tims who oppose the death penal­ty have their love for their mur­dered fam­i­ly mem­ber chal­lenged — oppo­si­tion to the death penal­ty is tak­en as sign that that they real­ly didn’t love parent/​sibling/​child. Or, oppo­si­tion the death penal­ty is tak­en as an impli­ca­tion that some­how the vic­tim must be respon­si­ble for his or her own mur­der. Or, oppo­nents of the death penal­ty are dis­missed as either psy­chos or saints — crazy for not want­i­ng to see the per­son who killed their loved one exe­cut­ed, or uncom­mon­ly holy for this earth. In some instances oppo­si­tion to the death penal­ty results in denial of sta­tus and rights under vic­tims rights laws. Fortunately New Hampshire recent­ly amend­ed it Victims Bill of Rights to guar­an­tee equal­i­ty of treat­ment for all vic­tims irre­spec­tive of their posi­tion the death penal­ty, but sub­tle prej­u­dices against some vic­tims based upon either their sup­port or oppo­si­tion to the death penalty remain.

The death penal­ty puts the media spot­light on mur­der­ers and makes rock stars out of killers. Efforts to seek and car­ry out the death penal­ty draw atten­tion to the per­son fac­ing exe­cu­tion. In the process, the life and good work of the vic­tim can be ignored or impugned. In the minds of the pubic, exe­cu­tions turn offend­ers into vic­tims, and they gain celebri­ty in their death. Everyone knows the name of Tim McVeigh, but far few­er peo­ple know the name of Julie Welch or any of the oth­er 167 vic­tims of his crime.

The death penal­ty cre­ates addi­tion­al vic­tims. When a pris­on­er is exe­cut­ed, that per­son is often someone’s par­ent, someone’s child. The Commission gave no con­sid­er­a­tion to the impact the death penal­ty has upon the fam­i­ly of the con­demned, but when the state car­ries out an exe­cu­tion his or her sur­viv­ing fam­i­ly mem­ber become fam­i­ly of a homi­cide vic­tim. The faces of that fam­i­ly are hid­den by silence and shame, but we can­not ignore the real­i­ty that the inno­cent chil­dren of killers put to death are impact­ed in ways soci­ety, as a whole, has never examined.

The death penal­ty is a false promise to vic­tims. Proponents of the death penal­ty put forth the notion that an exe­cu­tion can be a solu­tion to the pain expe­ri­enced by a sur­vivor of a mur­der vic­tim. Offering up this promise of a rit­u­al event rep­re­sents a fun­da­men­tal mis­un­der­stand­ing of a victim’s jour­ney. Healing is a process, not an event. When pub­lic employ­ees take a killer from a prison cell, strap him on a gur­ney, putting a nee­dle in his vein and pump him full of poi­son to kill him, that is not, as my reten­tion­ist col­leagues on the Commission assert, and act con­sis­tent with a stan­dard of decen­cy, it is an act of despair. Executions do not accom­plish the thing that vic­tims want above all else — they do not bring back their mur­dered loved one.

The hard­est thing for a vic­tim to do is accept that they can­not change the past. But what they can do, what they need to do, is make deci­sions about the future, about how they live their lives in the future. Sometimes vic­tims get so fix­at­ed on how their loved one died that they almost for­get how their loved one lived. Our bro­ken death penal­ty sys­tem, with its years of delays and oth­er prob­lems, holds a victim’s focus, and society’s focus, on the killer, antic­i­pat­ing and expect­ing an event, the event, the killer’s exe­cu­tion. If and when an exe­cu­tion occurs, anoth­er cof­fin is filled and anoth­er fam­i­ly grieves a killing, but, sad­ly, very lit­tle changes for the vic­tim. Their loved one is still dead. What some­times ends up hap­pen­ing is the mur­der claims two vic­tims: the per­son killed by the mur­der­er, and the per­son who is the sur­vivor of that per­son who was killed, whose life gets claimed by a sys­tem that is a set up for failure.

At the end of the day the death penal­ty is not about those who kill, it is about us. We, as a soci­ety, become what we say we abhor, killers. I don’t want the state killing in my name.

As a cit­i­zen, as mem­ber of this Commission, and as the son of mur­der vic­tim Robert Cushing, I view the death penal­ty not as a crim­i­nal jus­tice sanc­tion, but as a human rights vio­la­tion. I aspire to live in a soci­ety, in a world where human life is cher­ished and the dig­ni­ty of all is respect­ed. As a par­ent I choose hope and opti­mism for the future, for my chil­dren and the world in which they will live, and I believe that his­to­ry is on the side of those of us on the Commission who sup­port repeal of the death penal­ty. New Hampshire can live with­out the death penal­ty, and I know the day will come when cap­i­tal pun­ish­ment is abolished.

December 12010

(Mr. Cushing is also a mem­ber of the New Hampshire Legislature)

Renny Cushing, Executive Director

Murder Victims’ Families for Human Rights

2161 Massachusetts Avenue

Cambridge, MA 02140

617 491 9600 (O)

617 930 5196 (C)

cushing@​mvfhr.​org

www​.mvfhr​.org