By Kiko Martinez
San Antonio Current
April 302008

Last month, the U.S. Supreme Court, in a 7 – 2 rul­ing, upheld the use of lethal injec­tions and lift­ed a sev­en-month de-fac­to mora­to­ri­um on the death-penal­ty pro­ce­dure. The case was prompt­ed by two death-row inmates in Kentucky, Ralph Baze and Clyde Bowling Jr., who charge that when the three-drug cock­tail used in lethal injec­tions is not admin­is­tered prop­er­ly, the pain expe­ri­enced by the con­vict con­sti­tutes cru­el and unusual punishment.

Reverend Carroll Pickett, 74, agrees with the men. As a death-house chap­lain at the Walls Unit in Huntsville, Texas, from 1982 – 95, Pickett presided over the exe­cu­tions of 95 inmates. Each inmate, he remem­bers, affect­ed him sig­nif­i­cant­ly dur­ing the 16 hours he spent with them before they took their last breath.

After his retire­ment, Pickett, a cap­i­tal-pun­ish­ment sup­port­er his entire life, became an anti-death-penal­ty advo­cate and began work­ing with the Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty. The doc­u­men­tary, At the Death House Door, which fol­lows Pickett’s emo­tion­al career in the prison sys­tem, made its world pre­miere at the South by Southwest film fes­ti­val in March.

The year after you retired, rules were changed at the prison to allow close friends and fam­i­ly of the vic­tim to wit­ness the exe­cu­tion. What were your thoughts on this new policy?

Before they start­ed legal­ly, there were many times when I had the fam­i­ly of the inmate that was going to be exe­cut­ed in one place and the fam­i­ly of the vic­tim in anoth­er place. We would have to sneak one fam­i­ly in one way and the oth­er fam­i­ly anoth­er. I think if they’re look­ing for clo­sure, they’re not going to get it. Watching some­body get killed isn’t pleasant.

What oth­er types of pro­ce­dur­al changes were made after you left?

Before I retired, I trained Reverend Jim Brazil. When I was there they brought [the inmate] in ear­ly and I spent all day with them — 16 hours. When I left, they start­ed bring­ing [the inmate] in at 4 p.m. and exe­cut­ing them at 6 p.m. Jim didn’t get a chance to know [the inmates], and the inmates didn’t have a chance to have faith in the chaplain.

Is the pro­ce­dure more effi­cient today or when you were there?

Well, one of the things that I learned was that once you get them inside the death house, you get them away from all the noise of death row. So, many of them would say to me, This is the most peace­ful it’s been in 16 years.” Many of them took naps. We gave them as much time as we could to get used to the fact that right over there was a door that they were going to have to go through. For the ben­e­fit of the inmate as a human being — for­get about the crime — it’s much bet­ter in a peaceful situation.

There have been more than 300 exe­cu­tions car­ried out by the Texas Department of Criminal Justice since you retired. Is the TCADP mak­ing a dif­fer­ence by oppos­ing these exe­cu­tions or are their protests falling on deaf ears?

I think they’re doing the best they can do. The changes that are going to be made are going to have to be made through the leg­is­la­ture. The [TCADP] is get­ting a lot more sup­port. People have to real­ize that sec­ond drug [pan­curo­ni­um bro­mide] is painful. The American Veterinarian Association says the drug was painful when they used it on dogs and cats. That’s why it was banned. Texas is still using it and that’s ridiculous.

In the film you talk about some of the rap­port between you and the men dur­ing the hours before they are exe­cut­ed. Other than show­ing emo­tion and ask­ing for for­give­ness, were there any who reacted differently?

Oh, yes. One of the men want­ed to sing the whole time. I had to go back to my office to grab the hymn book because I couldn’t remem­ber the sec­ond verse to one of the songs. Another one want­ed to play chess, so I had to get one of the guards to play because I didn’t know how. We would talk about foot­ball, bas­ket­ball, base­ball. There was one who didn’t say a word all day. Not one single word.

One of the sto­ries I found incred­i­ble was the inmate who helped find a vein that could be used for his own lethal injection.

This guy had been a real bad drug addict and said, Do you want me to help you?” The war­den looked at me and said, You’ve been with him all day long, can we trust him?” I said, Sure you can trust him.” The guy wasn’t stu­pid. He knew they were going to get him one way or anoth­er. Actually, in his mind, he won, because he was able to find for them in a short time what these oth­er men couldn’t find in 45 minutes.

With all the death that you’ve seen in your life, do you fear your own?

I

faced death last year. I had surgery and went code blue. They rushed me

to anoth­er hos­pi­tal and two days lat­er I went code blue again. I can

remem­ber going to heav­en twice. I’ve seen it. It was pain­less. It was

beau­ti­ful. I’m ready to go.