Saturday, December 24, 2022

A Mystery Writer's Night before Christmas...and Third Wedding Anniversary

 



Jeff—Saturday
 

Whenever I think of Christmas, I think of traditions...such as wishing my bride Happy Anniversary three days later.  Thank you, Santa, for reminding me. :)

To all of you from the many different corners of our world who so kindly follow us on MIE, the very best of the Holiday Season, no matter how you may choose to celebrate the time.  As I’m blessed to be part of the MIE family I have a little tradition I like to sneak in here during the holiday season.  It’s something I composed for my Christmas Eve post a few years back and whether or not you’d like seeing it again, this is the night before Christmas and it's become a tradition so we’re stuck with it…though updated to include the new members of our MIE family. I take great pleasure in brutally fracturing the classic poem, “Twas the Night Before Christmas” by Clement Clarke Moore or Henry Livingston—history is still not sure who wrote it, so apologies to both. 

Livingston
Moore


Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a laptop was stirring, nor even a mouse.
The reviews were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that new readers would soon find them there.

The critics were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of best-seller danced in my head.
And DorothyL in her wimsey, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for the hiatus nap.

When out on the Net there arose such a chatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the keyboard I flew like a flash,
Tore open the browser and dove in with a splash.

The glow on the screen cast like new-fallen snow,
A lustre of brilliance onto writing so-so.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But the sight of a blog with ten writers so dear.

With a little bold driver so quick with a thrill,
I knew in a moment he hailed from Brazil.
More rapid than eBooks their creations they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

“Now, Kubu! now, Su Lin! now, Charlie and Emma!
On, Vera! On, Justin! on, Hiro and Rei!
To the top of the Times! to the top of them all!
Now slash away Christine, slash away pall!”

As wry thoughts, that before the final deadline fly,
When they meet with an obstacle soar to the sky.
So off to their blog-posts these non-courtiers flew,
With a sleigh full of ploys, and opinions not few.

And then, in a twinkling, I saw not from aloof,
The prancing and gnawing of hard comments and spoof
Taking aim at some points so to bring them to ground,
Brought on by hard thinkers of Southern Cross sound.

The writers were dressed from each head to each foot
In bold clothes that were tarnished with gashes well put.
A bundle of ARCs each had flung on its back,
They looked like kind peddlers bringing books to a rack.

Their eyes—how they twinkled! Their dimples how merry!
Their cheeks like Jeff Bezos’s, their noses like sherry!
One’s droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
‘Til his bottle of bourbon fell out on the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
Threw up smoke of the kind to fire scotch from the heath.
He had a broad face that would fill up the telly,
And as he reached for his bottle mumbled, “Just jelly.”

Neither chubby nor plump, more like jolly and svelte,
I laughed when I saw him, ‘til his stare I felt.
But a wink of his eye and no twist to my head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

They all spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
And filled all the bookshelves, then turned with a jerk.
And crossing their fingers aside of their noses,
And giving great nods, passed around the Four Roses.

They kept all at play ‘til the ladies gave whistle,
Then each turned as one to read an epistle.  
And I heard them exclaim, ‘ere my charger lost might,
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-fright!”

And, of course, Happy Hanukah and “Kala Kristougenna.”
 
 —Andreas Kaldis

Friday, December 23, 2022

The 12 days of Christmas!

 


Turkey!

And all the trimmings

All the trimmings must be the three most scary words in the English language. And I’m not even sure what it means- something to do with stressed out mums, supermarkets opening at 6 am, a house stinking of sprouts and numerous nervous breakdowns caused by never finding the end of the bloody sellotape.

No wonder Christmas was banned. Well it was it the 17th century but it’s now back with a very commercial bang.

I can recall my granddad saying that he normally worked on Christmas day, in the shipyards as it was a working day just like any other.  It became a public holiday in 1958. It was New Year that the Scots celebrated.  People get slightly drunk at Christmas and totally rat trashed at New Year.

As you will know from this blog before, we 'first foot'. A tall, dark handsome stranger must be first to step into the house on the small hours of January 1st. He should carry coal or shortbread. The description is one who is ‘not a Viking’ as we were fed up being invaded by Vikings who were obviously short, fair with limited access to shortbread.

The coal comes from a custom of keeping a coal fire burning over the 12 days of Christmas to bring the luck of the old year  into the new year. Nowadays, with the fuel crisis we have here (Britain?  Europe?), the coal fire is kept burning as we can’t afford to run the central heating. Certainly our wood burner is on most of the time but is too insulated by dogs to provide any heat to the rest of the house.

                                                      

Anyway, I digress.  Before Covid, Edinburgh would have 400 000 people at the street party at New Year.  I think it was slowly being culled by the cost of policing, the dangers of such crowds roaming around and Edinburgh being Edinburgh. Glasgow always had a party in George Square. Alan’s band, Nightshift provided the live music for many years.  I do remember watching a very macho man constantly fall over on the ice rink while the band played the Scissor Sister’s ‘I don’t feel like dancing.’  After the tenth time he fell over I don’t Macho Man could walk never mind dance.

A quote from somewhere says that a traditional dinner at Christmas in Scotland includes broth ( usually made by the man of the house), smoked salmon ( starter ), turkey (  a leftover from the Colonial days, am I allowed to say that?) and Christmas pudding ( if there’s no ice cream going ). Bannock cakes ( nope, that’s New Year) are also popular.               

                                              

                                                       Our collection at work for the homeless.

                                                       It was 3 times this when collected.


Boxing Day is now a Christmas holiday and as Christmas Day is a Sunday this year, we are having an extra day off for that.

I also read that fire  can play a huge part of  Christmas in Scotland and that we dance round bonfires   while carrying a  barrel of flames overhead. No we don’t.

Probably true though that much of our Christmas is Pagan. It’s about the solstice, it’s the sense that the days will now lengthen, and that we can put down the burning barrels we were holding overhead  in an attempt to keep warm. Or dry more likely.

 Vikings began raiding us in the 700s. They referred to the Winter Solstice as Jol, which changed to Yule, hence Yule  logs etc.  The Solstice was celebrated for 12 days. Holly and Mistletoe are both steeped in pagan folklore.

In 1560, during the Scottish Reformation, all enjoyment was banned, including Yule, mistletoe and carrying a bucket of burning flames over head.  In 1583, it was announced you could be excommunicated for celebrating Christmas, and singing a Carol could get you arrested. Maybe not a totally bad idea.

                                                     

So in the intervening years, it’s easy to see how the focus of celebration slipped  from one week to the next, from Christmas week to the first week in January. We still get an extra days holiday at New Year.

Nowadays, the merriment flows, usually from the  neck of a bottle, of Scotch, made in Japan, bottled in Germany.

Have a lovely time wherever you are, be with the ones you want to be with and celebrate as you desire.

I’m away to dig out a barrel and the Swan Vestas.

C

Wednesday, December 21, 2022

Embracing the suck in 2022

Tony Park for Michael

Welcome Tony Park as today's guest blogger on Murder Is Everywhere! 

Although an Australian, Tony is the author of twenty bestselling thrillers set in Africa. A “once-in-a-lifetime” safari holiday to southern Africa in 1995 turned out to be anything but for Tony who found in Africa the inspiration he needed to follow his dream – quitting his job in public relations and becoming a full-time writer. He divides his time between Sydney, the African bush, and now a beach place in South Africa also.

His books often look at the bloody fight to save endangered wildlife, and also draw on Tony’s more than thirty years of experience in the Australian Army Reserve, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan. Australia’s Sydney Morning Herald calls him one of that country’s “best and most consistent thriller writers” and The Times has described him as "Wilbur Smith’s spiritual heir".

Today he has a positive message on the negative things that build thrillers and mysteries...and life.

Tony with friends

There's a term in military special forces lingo for making the best of a bad situation – "embracing the suck".

It means that when things suck – and I mean really suck – instead of complaining, accept that there are some things that are out of your control, and then do your best to deal with them, learn from them and get on with life.

I write thrillers set in southern Africa (20 so far), so to some extent I go looking for the "suck" – crime, corruption, natural disasters, war etc. – for inspiration for my books, and sometimes I get caught up in it. Actually, this time 20 years ago I was on my way home from a war, in Afghanistan, as an Australian Army reservist – but that's another story.

Tony dealing with the "suck" in Afghanistan

Although we're Australians, my wife and I spend much of our time in South Africa and we bought a house on the beach in KwaZulu Natal back in April, just as the worst floods to ever hit the province struck, leaving hundreds of people dead and infrastructure destroyed.

We were cut off in our new house for a few weeks with no water or electricity. To make matters worse, we lost a significant amount of money in an elaborate fraud while buying the house, in which criminals masqueraded as the attorney handling the sale.

While our house, at least, stayed high and dry, my mother and stepfather recently lost everything they owned when a one-in-5,000-year flood hit the little town where they live, in rural Australia.

Added to that there's war in Ukraine, political instability here in South Africa, rising fuel costs globally, inflation, unemployment and… I could go on.

I was shaken by the above, quite badly, but I was also in the midst of writing another novel. I decided that to help myself carry on, and get over what I couldn't control, I would embrace it. My 21st novel, Vendetta, will carry a reference to real-estate fraud, and its South African characters have to deal with power cuts and the stench of political corruption.

My latest novel, The Pride, like several of the earlier books, deals with the ever-present issue of poaching, and the illegal trade in wildlife.  The Pride is about abalone poaching; far from just being a case of people exceeding fishing limits, the trade in this highly-prized shellfish is a multi-national, multi-million-dollar business which also fuels gang violence and the drug trade here in South Africa. (Chinese triads pay South African gangs for abalone destined for markets in Asia by supplying the raw materials to make methamphetamine).

I also wrote a non-fiction book this year, Rhino War, with retired South African general Johan Jooste, who headed up the hard-fought, bloody struggle to protect endangered rhinos in the Kruger National Park. 

As a white 60-year-old former army officer, his appointment in 2012 was controversial. He took over a corps of 400 demoralized, under-trained and under-equipped park rangers and over the course of three years turned them into the finest anti-poaching unit on the African continent. In the process, he helped turn the "runaway train"' of rhino poaching around.

My favorite scene in Rhino War is where General Jooste is told by the Kruger Park's resident psychologist that two female rangers should be withdrawn from duty. After having been in running gunfights in which poachers were killed, and being confronted with the daily horror of slaughtered rhinos, General Jooste told the two women they had done "their bit" and it was time for them to take a break.

"No," these two women said in unison. They refused to be withdrawn from the fight. They continued to serve on the front line. 

White rhino Kruger National Park

As with the war on rhino poaching, the abalone trade is not only high stakes – it's high risk. There are shootouts between fisheries officers and poachers and the fishermen themselves are at risk of shark attack, drowning, and the bends, as they dive deeper to find disappearing stocks of abalone.

During the course of my research I heard the story of a brave fisheries inspector who was shot by gang members and left paralyzed while trying to stop some poachers.

That sucks. There's been a post-covid spike in rhino poaching as well and that also sucks.

However, if there is one thing that has struck me in the 27 years I've been travelling and living in Africa that is greater than the scale of the problems that people face on a day to day basis it is the indomitable human spirit.

Every day in Africa I see ordinary people coming together to address the "suck" – to help each other out after disasters, to feed those who are hungry, to fight crime at the grassroots level, to work together to protect the environment. The sad fact is that those who should be doing all these things, their elected representatives, are sometimes part of the problem. 

Ranger with tracker dog

This Christmas and New Year's Eve, like every other day of the year, good, ordinary, men and women will put on a uniform and go into the bush, dressed in camouflage and carrying a rifle and literally put their lives on the line to protect rhinos and other big game. Other officers will patrol the beaches, knowing they could be shot in the line of duty while protecting shellfish.

We need inspiration as writers. Inspiration on one level is "stuff", fodder for new books or plot twists, but it also means to be inspired. I am a sucker for happy endings in fiction, as in life. 

Black rhino, Etosha National Park

This festive season I will be thinking of those who are out there, on the front-line of whatever cause they are fighting for, embracing the suck. And I will be inspired.

Tony Park

www.tonypark.net


The Meaning of Santa Claus

 Kwei--Wednesday

(In holiday mode and with zero creativity or energy, I’ve selected a previous post for this Christmas week.)

The meaning of Santa Claus

The tropes of Christmas are pretty much boilerplate: snow, sleds, reindeers, fireplaces--at least in the frigid parts of the Northern Hemisphere. But the arguably most dominant symbol is Santa Claus: the overweight, jolly, white-bearded, red-clad man who laughs, “Ho, ho, ho.” By the way, the ruddy cheeks and red bulbous nose are due to acne rosacea.

Claus supposedly lives in the North Pole and come Christmas Eve, commandeers a gift-full sled pulled by a herd of reindeer that transport Santa to various homes, where he leaves presents ? for “nice” children. There’s even a Norad tracker for Santa. Boy, do those reindeer work hard. I hope Santa has lots of treats for them.

While few adults believe in the existence of a true Santa Claus, even fewer know how this entity came about. It’s even more complex that one might imagine. Our modern Santa Claus comes from traditions of Saint Nicholas, who was a Greek bishop and gift-giver in Myra, Turkey; the British Father Christmas; and the Dutch Sinterklaas. 

Santa Claus: Saint Nicholas, Greek bishop and gift-giver of Myra 
(Image: Wikimedia Commons)
But some also believe that Santa Claus took elements of the Germanic peoples who associated the god Wodan or Odin with their pagan mid-winter tradition of Yule, hence the word Yuletide included in carols etc. The depiction of Odin as a long-bearded man might have contributed to the appearance of Santa Claus.

But it was the famous drawing by Thomas Nast along with Clement Clarke Moore‘s 1823 poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas” that contributed significantly to the legend and appearance of the modern Santa Claus.


The Original Santa Claus (Image originally Harper’s Weekly)
How Christmas itself came to be and why the celebration is on December 25 is a different but related topic, but essentially, when Germanic Europe was Christianized, many Yuletide customs were absorbed into Christmas. 

The question that has always come to my mind is, what does Santa Claus get for Christmas? Does anyone care? Someone give the poor reindeers something, at least.

Tuesday, December 20, 2022

Dreaming of a Durian Christmas

 Ovidia--every other Tuesday

Heavier rains than usual have produced a larger than usual durian harvest in Malaysia, meaning durian prices will be down over Christmas, meaning that's what we'll probably be celebrating with this year!

Our own trees (well, the ones just outside our gate) didn't get the memo, though--


 --it looks like they're done fruiting for this year.

In pre-Covid days, once the flowers dropped, people would stand around discussing how the fruit looked and speculating on when it would drop. And it was a lesson in patience, because this is one fruit that cannot be harvested (or you risk angering the tree spirit and all future fruit will be tasteless). 

I've only ever been present at one fruit drop, that was after a heavy rain so only one other lady was around waiting. (I'd been on my way to the bus stop, honest!) We both heard the heavy thump and I went down the slope into the undergrowth and retrieved it for her. She was so happy and said, "I will keep it for my son tonight," I suggested that since that one tiny durian wasn't much for her, her son and their domestic helper, I buy her another from the stall up the road (this was when Uncle Lee, our neighbourhood durian uncle was still alive) but she said no. 

"If I want to eat I can buy for myself. But this one I saw drop, is good luck," She wanted to give me a seed of it, to share the good luck, but durian before going on public transport isn't a good idea!


There's a maximum fine of $500 if you're caught carrying durians on the MRT system. 

Of course durian sellers have their ways of getting around that. In the old days my dad would bring home whole durians and pry them open with a cleaver in the open air courtyard with all of us squatting around.

Now there are fewer plantations and more durian sellers.


I love this mural--but that poor woman is about to hit by a falling durian!

These days durian sellers open and package the fruit, some advertising special 'vacuum packaging' that will let you carry your durian home without stinking up your car or even "by bus, train or airplane without getting fined!"

But how does buying durians work? You go to the stall and see what they have to offer/ tell them your preferences: sweet, bitter or bittersweet? hard or soft? small seed or big seed?

 


I'm no good at picking fruit (connoisseurs will sniff and shake the fruit, pinch the spines to test for stiffness and scrape the stem to look for greenness). I find durian sellers I trust and leave it to them!

My preference is for soft, bitter fruit with small seeds and one of my favourites is the Mao Shan Wang or Mountain Cat King which ranges from bittersweet to bitter. I also love the D24 with its small seeds and darker yellow, almost orange bittersweet flesh.



They should open and show you the fruit for your approval. I like softer fruit (yes, even in bananas and apples) so I also like the XO durians which are really really soft--

--soft enough to put some people off. They come with a slightly alcoholic aftertaste, which may explain the name!

It's not just us humans who love and wait patiently for durians to drop naturally though. There are always birds, squirrels and monkeys lurking in the vicinity of fruiting trees. There are also stories of how, in the old days, tigers and wild boars would stake out rights to particular trees in the wild, and anyone who took fruit from those trees would be followed back to their villages and attacked.

(Yes there's a murder mystery here and I'm going to play around with the idea if no one else wants it!)

And our two doglets loved durian too, especially our Princess, who died this year. This will be our first Christmas without our darling little dog who used to adore durian!


 (That's Princess winning the race above. Behind her is Hermione aka The Duchess, who died two years back.)

I'm going to miss our silly Christmas rituals like doggy treats and gifts and doggy photos. But we who are still alive will create new traditions.

 Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Everyone!







Monday, December 19, 2022

In Honor of Kate Brown

 Annamaria on Monday




In honor of Oregon's Governor Kate Brown who took a clear and courageous stand against the death penalty this past week, I am reposting the following, a speech by another governor who spoke passionately on the subject nearly thirty-eight years ago. His words here below still apply.





In March of 1986 I had already made up my mind about the death penalty.  I was against it.  Completely.  Intellectually.  Politically.  Emotionally.  Public opinion was raging on the subject at that time.  The Supreme Court had declared it unconstitutional because of the Constitutional ban on cruel and unusual punishment and because of the enormous racial inequity in the way it was being applied.

But crime rates were high, and many people, maybe a majority, wanted it back.  Mostly, they thought the threat of execution would stop people from killing. The hardest liners said - as the Attorney General of the United States has reiterated in the past few weeks, that "justice" required it.




It is that action by AG Barr that prompts me to write today.  I have no individual permission to publish what I am posting here, but the words below were broadcast on the radio, so I think they are fair game.  First let me tell you how I knew about them and how I acquired them in print.

In March 1989, while driving to the country house, I tuned into to my local public radio station and heard the voice of our then New York State Governor Mario Cuomo, speaking against the death penalty.  When I arrived at my destination, I stayed in the car in my driveway to hear the Gov till the end.  I never forgot that speech.



Fast forward to December 2017.  On an Author's Guild trip to Cuba, one evening our group learned that another smaller tour group would be joining us on our bus.  We were going off for a night of Cuban Jazz at the  Buena Vista Social Club.  I was traveling solo, and when I boarded the bus, I saw a man i knew had to have been from that other group, sitting next to an empty seat.  As a gesture of inter-group friendship, I sat down next to him and introduced myself.

His group of ten were the board members of a anti-death penalty organization in the United States.  Our conversation soon led to my telling about my wish that I could find that speech of Mario Cuomo's that I had heard nearly thirty years before and remembered so vividly.  "I have a copy of that speech," he said.  He sent it to me.  Here it is in its entirety, transcribed from what looks like a copy of the pages from which Mario might have read it out.  I hope it convinces you.




REMARKS BY GOVERNOR MARIO M. CUOMO 
COLLEGE OF ST. ROSE.  ST. JOSEPH’S HALL 
ALBANY, NEW YORK 
MONDAY, MARCH 20, 1989

Governor Mario Cuomo
Photo: Judi Benvenuti

          
            It is difficult to imagine a more important subject for consideration than the one that brings us here together this morning. 

            Together the legislature and the governor every year make thousands of judgments that are important. 
            
            But occasionally we are confronted with a question that has transcendent significance: One that describes in fundamental ways what we are as a people; One that projects to ourselves, And to the whole world, Our most fundamental values…One, even, that helps configure our souls.



            This is the right setting for such a discussion. Here at The College of St. Rose, Surrounded by excellent leader like Bishop Hubbard and Bishop Ball and Rabbi Silverman and so many Clergy. 
            
            Right… Not because it is a Christian or a Jewish Setting … or even a religious setting. 

            Right… Because this is a place, and these are people who believe in reason, enlightenment, and the uplifting of the human condition. 

            The question that confronts us is whether this state should choose to kill human beings by electrocution, as punishment for commission of the crime of murder. 

            I have spoken my own opposition to the death penalty for more than thirty years. 

            For all that time I have studied it, I have watched it, I have debated it, hundreds of times. 

            I have heard all the arguments, analyzed all the evidence I could find, measured public opinion when it was opposed, when it was indifferent. When it was passionately in favor. 

            And always before, I have concluded the death penalty is wrong. That it lowers us all, That it is a surrender to the worst that is in us; That it uses a power—The official power to kill by execution—which has never elevated a society, never brought back a life, never inspired anything but hate. 
            
            In recent years I have had the privilege of casting my vote on bills passed by the Legislature to bring back the Death Penalty. And I have voted against it each time. On each occasion that I did, The Legislature might have passed the bill despite my disapproval by obtaining a two-thirds vote. So far they have chosen not to.

            Now the Death Penalty bill is before me again and there can be another chance for the legislature of this state to speak on this subject in the name of the people they represent. 

            Because of the awesome significance of the matter, and the immensity of the decision, I sought a chance to speak directly to the public so that I could add my voice to and underscore the cogency of the arguments made by the Bishop, the Assembly people and so many of you. And made already so cogently, so forcefully, so eloquently. 

            I thank Dr. Vacarro, The College of St. Rose, and The coalition for providing me this opportunity. 

            Clearly there is a new public willingness to return to the official brutality of the past, by restoring the death penalty. And it is just as clear what has provoked this new willingness. 

            Life in parts of the state, and nation, has become more ugly and violent that at anytime I can recall. 

            Many, like myself, who have spent more than fifty years in this state, are appalled at the new madness created by drugs. And frustrated by what appears to be the ineffectuality of the federal, state and local governments to deal with this new problem. 

            Savage murders of young, bright, and committed law enforcement people, and the other citizens, enrage us all. 

            Our passions are inflamed by each new terrible headline; each new report of atrocity. 

            We know the people have the right to demand a civilized level of law and peace. They have a right to expect it. 

            And when it appears to them that crime is rampant, and the criminal seems immune from apprehension and adequate punishment, and that nothing else is working—then, no one should be surprised if the people demand the ultimate penalty. 

            It has happened before. It will probably happen again. 

            To a great extent it is a cry, a terrible cry of anger, anguish born of frustration and fear in the people. 

I know that. 

I understand it. 

I have been with the victims, too. 

I have felt the anger myself, more than once. 

Like too many other citizens of this state I know what it is to be violated—and even to have one’s closest family violated, in the most despicable ways. 

I tremble at the thought of how I might react to someone who took the life of my son. 
Anger, surely… Terrible anger. I would not be good enough to suppress it. 

Would I demand revenge? Perhaps even that. 

I know that despite all my beliefs, I might be driven by my impulses. 

So how could I not understand a society of people like me, at times like this, wanting to let out a great cry for Retribution, for Vindication ... even for revenge, like the cry we hear from them now. 

I understand it 

But I know something else. 

I know this society should strive for something better than what we are in our worst moments. 

When police officers are killed, violence escalates and lawlessness seems to flourish with impunity, it isn’t easy for people to hold back their anger; to stop and think; to allow reason to operate. 

But that, it seems like to me, is the only rational course for a people constantly seeking to achieve greater measures of humanity and dignity for our Civilization. 

And so, for a few moments, let’s try, just try, to reason our way to a solution. 

We need to respond more effectively to the new violence we know that. 

But, There is absolutely no good reason to believe that returning to death will be any better an answer now, than it was at all the times in the past when we had it, used it, regretted it and discarded it. 

There are dozens of studies that demonstrate there is simply no persuasive evidence that official state killing can do anything to make any police officer, or other citizen safer. 

There is in fact, considerable evidence to the contrary. 

Consider just this: For the decade before 1977, we had the death penalty in New York State. In that period 80 police officers were slain. For the decade after, without the death penalty… 54 were killed. 

The argument for deterrence is further weakened by realization of how rarely and unpredictably it is applied. 

For hundreds of years we have known that the effectiveness of the law is determined not by its harshness, but by its sureness. 

And the death penalty has always been terribly unsure. 

The experts of the New York State Bar Association’s Criminal Justice section, and The Association of the Bar of the City of New York, have come out strongly against the death penalty after hundreds of years of cumulative lawyers’ experience and study. 

One of the points the state section made is that the death penalty must be regarded as ineffective as a deterrent, if for no other reason than because its use is so uncertain. Execution has occurred in only about five-hundredths of one percent of all the homicides committed in America over the past decade. 

And then, despite Ted Bundy, It seems to threaten white drug dealers, white rapist, white killers, white barbarians a lot less than others. 

Think of this: of the last 18 people executed in this state, 13 were Black and one Hispanic. And that seems an extraordinary improbability for a system that was operating with any kind of objective sureness. 

And there’s more. 

Some of the most notorious recent killings, like the gunning down of the D.E.A. Agent, Everett Hatcher, and the killing by Lemuel Smith, occurred in the face of existing death penalty statutes.

And psychiatrists will tell you that there is reason to believe that some madmen, just like Ted Bundy, may even be tempted to murder because of a perverse desire to challenge the electric chair. 

For years and years, the arguments have raged over whether the death penalty is a deterent. That used to be frankly, the only argument when I first began debating it. 

But the truth is now that because the proponents have never been able to make the case for deterrence convincingly, they have moved to a different argument. 

It is phrased in many ways, but in the end it all comes down to the same impulse. 

It was heard in the debates in recent weeks on the floor of the senate and assembly, which I listened to and read with great care. Things like this: “Whatever the studies show, the people of my area believe that taking of life justifies the forfeiting of life”. Or “ Our people have the right to insist on a penalty that matches the horror of the crime.” 

Or even this: “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” 

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Where would it end? “You kill my son, I kill yours.” “You rape my daughter, I rape yours.” “You mutilate my body, I mutilate yours.” 

You treat someone brutally, and I – the established government of one of the most advanced states, in the most advanced nation on earth—will respond by officially, and deliberately, treating you brutally, by strapping you to a chair, and burning away your flesh, for all to see, so the barbarians will know that we are capable of official barbarism. 

And we will pursue this course, despite the lack of reason to believe it will protect us—even if it is clear, almost with certainty, that occasionally the victim of our official barbarism will be innocent. 

Think of it: At least 23 people are believed to have been wrongfully executed in the United States since the turn of this century. Twenty-Three innocent people officially killed. But it is not called murder. 

And tragically, New York State — our great state, the Empire state – holds the record for the greatest number of innocents put to death over the years. We lead all the states in the nation with eight wrongful executions since 1905. 


Here are the names of the victims of the state of New York’s killings: Charles Becker, Frank Cirofici, Thomas Bambrick, Stephen Grzechowiak, Max Rybarczyk, Everett Appelgate, George Chew Wing, Charles Sberna. 

These are real names. These are real people. Like Mario Cuomo or Ralph Marino. Like Mel Miller or Fred Ohremstein. Like Clarence Rappelyea or Joe Serrano or Al Vann.

Or your son, or your father, or your mother. Real people who were killed, innocently. 

The proponents of the death penalty in this state assume that the criminal justice system will not make a mistake. 

They seem to be unconcerned about the overly ambitious prosecutor, the sloppy detective, the incompetent defense counsel, the witness with an ax to grind, or the judge who keeps courthouse conviction box scores. But that, ladies and gentlemen, is the human factor, and it’s the deepest, most profound flaw in their argument. 

In this country, a defendant is convicted on proof beyond a reasonable doubt – not proof to an absolute certainty. 

There’s no such this as absolute certainty in our law. 

The proponents of the death penalty – despite this – say we should pretend it cannot happen. 

They do not discuss the infamous case of Isadore Zimmerman, who got so far as to have his head shaved and his trouser leg slit on the day of his scheduled execution in 1939, before governor Herbert Lehman commuted his sentence to life imprisonment. 

And the Twenty- Four years later, Zimmerman was released from prison, after it was determined that the prosecutor knew all the time that he was innocent and had suppressed evidence. Zimmerman died a free man just a few years ago. 

They do not discuss William “Red” Gergel, age 62, released in Queens just this year after spending 535 days in jail for a triple murder he did not commit. It was a case of mistaken identity.

They do not discuss a young man named Bobby McLaughlin of Marine Park, Brooklyn. 

Bobby McLaughlin was convicted of the robbery and murder of another young man in 1980. This was a one–witness identification case – the most frightening kind. 

In July of 1986, Bobby McLaughlin was released after serving six years for a murder he did not commit. Wrongly convicted by intention or mistake – take your pick of the facts – right here in the great state of New York. 

It all started when a detective picked up one wrong photograph. 

One wrong photograph, one mistake, one date with the electric chair. It could have been one more tragically lost life. 

It didn’t happen. But it took an almost superhuman effort by his foster father and some aggressive members of the media. To keep the case from falling between the cracks of the justice system. 

Bobby McLaughlin had this to say after he was released: “If there was death penalty in this state, I would now be ashes in a urn on my mother’s mantle.” 

Yes, It can happen. And it will again, if we allow it to. 

And what would we tell the wife, what would the governor tell the wife then, or the husband or the children of the parents, of the innocent victim that we had burned to death in our official rage? What would you say to them? 

“We had to do it?”

Then we would be asked, but why did you have to do it, if you were not sure it would deter anyone else, why did you have to do it? And what would we answer? “Because we were angry. Because the people demanded an eye for an eye… even if it were to prove an innocent eye?” 

What would we tell them.  Should we tell them that we had to kill, because we had as a society come to believe that the only way to reach the most despicable among us was to lie down in the muck and mire that spawned them?

I hear all around me that the situation had so deteriorated that we need to send a message, To the criminals and to the people alike, that we was a government know how bad things are and will do something about it. 

I agree. 

Of course we must make clear that we intend to fight the terrible epidemic of drugs and violence. 

But the death penalty is no more effective a way to fight them, than the angry cries that inspire it. 

We need to continue to do the things that will control crime by making the apprehension and punishment of criminals more likely. 

We’ve made a good beginning. Since 1983 we have increased funding for local law enforcement alone by 65 percent. 

We’ve added 500 more states troopers to the force. We’ve opened 13,000 new prison beds, and we will be adding room for another 4,000 by 1990. We’ve tripled the number of drug felons sentenced to state prison, and increased dramatically our rehabilitation efforts. 

We should be doing more. 

The legislature should be giving me the forfeiture bills I’ve asked for. I hope they will. Those bills will allow us to take the wealth away from the drug dealers and put it to use fighting them and rehabilitating people who are addicted to drugs. 

They should give me the judges I’ve asked for, the troopers, the money for courts and prisons, and rehabilitation programs. 

And one other thing. 

The legislature should finally vote for a real, tough, effective punishment for deliberate murder. 

And there is one. Better, much better than the death penalty. One that juries will not be reluctant to give. 

One that is so menacing to a potential killer, it would actually deter. 

One that does not require us to be infallible in order to avoid taking innocent life. 

One that does not require us to stoop to the level of the killers. 

One that is even – for those who insist on measuring this question in dollars – millions of dollars less expensive than the death penalty, millions … true life imprisonment, with no possibility of parole … none, under any circumstances. 

If you committed a murder at 20, and you live to be 81, you’ll live 61 years behind bars. You’ll go in alive, and come out only when you die. Now that’s a tough penalty. 

Ask the people who know, how tough this penalty would be. The people who know Attica, or Auburn. Ask the people who know how hard such places are. 

They will tell you to most inmates, the thought of living a whole lifetime behind bars – only to die in your cell … is worse than the quick, final termination of the electric chair. 

Anecdotal evidence is, of course, limited in its usefulness. But it can give you insight. 

Just recently, in an article in The New York Times Magazine, a young man on death row named Heath Wilkins was asked whether people underestimated the deterrent power of life without parole. 

“Absolutely”, Wilkins responded,  “Death isn’t a scary thing to someone who’s hurting inside so bad that they’re hurting other people. People like that are looking for death as a way out. 
For the six years I have offered it to the legislature, I have heard no substantial arguments in opposition to the proposal for life imprisonment without parole. I’ve heard none. 

If they fail once again this year to achieve their preferred choice – The electric chair – I hope the legislature will put aside any temptation simply to preserve a political issue and, instead, finally give the people of this state what I believe is a smarter, saner, more effective answer … By adopting real life imprisonment, without parole. 

Finally, while we are fighting the criminals in the street with the relentless enforcement of firm laws and with swift, sure punishment, we must at the same time continue to do all the things we know dull the instinct for a crime. 

Education, housing, health care, good jobs and the opportunity to achieve them.

All the old fashioned effort to deal with root causes that has never lost its relevance, even when it lost its popularity. 

That, in the end, I think personally, may be the best antidote of all against the kind of terrible crime we are now experiencing. Certainly it offers us more hope than does the politics of death. 

Now ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters, there will be few questions more difficult for us than the one we now face. 

And few opportunities as good as this to prove our commitment as a people to resisting the triumph of darkness. And to moving our society constantly toward the light. 

For a politician, like the people from the assembly who have joined us today and myself rejecting what appears to be a politically popular view can be troublesome. 

But I – as they do – make the same decision I have before, in my case, I make the same decision now that I have for more than 30 years. This time I believe on the basis of even more evidence and with a firmer conviction than before. 

And I do it with a profound respect for the people who have raised their voices … and occasionally even their fist… asking for the death penalty. 

I have not as governor ignored those voices. I have listened intently to them. 

But after the sincerest effort, I have not been able to bring myself to agree with them. 
I continue to believe with all my mind and heart, that the death penalty would not help us… it would debase us; that it would not protect us … it would make us weaker. 

I continue to believe more passionately now than ever, that this society desperately needs this great states leadership. 

We, the people of New York, ought now, in this hour of fright, to show the way. We should refuse to allow this time to be marked forever in the pages of our history, as the time that we were driven back to one of the vestiges of our primitive condition, because we are not strong enough, because we were not intelligent enough, because we were not civilized enough to find a better answer to violence … than violence. 

Today I will veto the death penalty bill sent to me by the legislature and return it with my proposal for life imprisonment without parole with the hope and the prayer that the legislature will once again choose the light over the darkness. 

I pray that my country will go back to being among the enlightened of the world.