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Tyrone
Delano GILLIAM Jr.
Abduction - Robbery
Convicted murderer Tyrone D. Gilliam was executed by chemical injection
at the Maryland Penitentiary late last night, the 1st of at least 6
condemned men across the country scheduled to be executed this week.
Gilliam, 32, who was convicted in the Dec. 2, 1988, shotgun slaying of
21-year-old Baltimore hardware store accountant Christine Doerfler in a
$3 robbery and carjacking, was pronounced dead at 10:27 p.m., a few
minutes after prison guards administered a lethal dose of drugs through
intravenous lines.
Before the injections started, Gilliam said, "Allah, forgive them for
what they do." Then he turned toward his attorney and a Muslim spiritual
adviser among the witnesses and said, "I love you," according to media
representatives who were present.
His final words, they said, were "Allah akbar," Arabic for 'God is
great.'
Outside the stone and brick penitentiary a half-mile from Baltimore's
bustling Inner Harbor, more than 200 capital punishment opponents, many
holding candles, sang songs of support for Gilliam and chanted, "They
say death row, we say hell no."
Earlier in the day, both the Supreme Court and Maryland Gov. Parris N.
Glendening (D) rebuffed 11th-hour petitions to spare Gilliam.
His case attracted national attention when Nation of Islam leader Louis
Farrakhan issued an urgent plea for mercy Sunday to Glendening, saying
that Gilliam's conversion to Islam had "helped him to see the error of
his ways." Gilliam joined the Nation of Islam in 1994 and went by the
names Tyrone X. Gilliam and Minister As-siid Ben Maryam.
Gilliam was the third inmate executed in Maryland in this decade after a
hiatus of almost 33 years.
At least 5 other condemned men in prisons from Virginia to California
are awaiting execution this week, one of the largest numbers scheduled
in 1 week in recent years, according to anti-capital punishment groups
that monitor death penalty cases. 3 men, including one in Virginia, are
set to be executed Tuesday.
"It's an unusual number by any measure," said Richard Dieter, executive
director of the Death Penalty Information Center in Washington. So far
this year, he said, there have been 54 executions.
In Gilliam's case, Glendening turned down a petition for clemency,
saying the facts in the case showed that "Mr. Gilliam shot and murdered
Miss Doerfler in cold blood."
In a 5-paragraph statement, the governor said he had reviewed evidence
in the case since Gilliam's death warrant was issued Oct. 5. In the
course of his review, he said, he had found that Gilliam confessed twice
to pulling the trigger and that his confessions were corroborated by 2
co-defendants in the case.
Glendening also noted that Gilliam's case has been reviewed and upheld
16 times by state and federal appellate courts.
According to trial testimony, Gilliam and brothers Kelvin LeGrant
Drummond and Delano Anthony "Tony" Drummond ambushed Doerfler in a
suburban parking lot after a day of heavy drinking and drug use. When
they found she had only $3, according to testimony, they ordered her to
drive them to an automated teller machine.
On the way, they changed their minds and forced her to drive to a
secluded area in Baltimore County where, Kelvin Drummond and police
testified, Gilliam shot Doerfler in the head with a 12-gauge shotgun.
Drummond testified that Gilliam told him he killed Doerfler because she
had seen his face.
Gilliam, convicted as the trigger man, was sentenced to death.
Kelvin Drummond, who testified under a plea agreement, received a life
sentence with the possibility of parole. Tony Drummond drew a sentence
of life without parole.
Since the murder, Gilliam changed his account, at one point saying he
was not the trigger man.
Last week, he told reporters he was so heavily drugged during the
incident that he could not remember what happened.
Gilliam's attorney, Jerome H. Nickerson Jr., also produced affidavits
from the Drummond brothers stating that Gilliam was not the trigger man.
Neither affidavit said who fired the shotgun, but Nickerson said
Saturday that if he could get a court hearing, the shooter would be
identified.
On Sunday, prosecutors obtained new statements from both Drummonds, in
which the brothers said the affidavits they had given Nickerson were not
true.
The new statements were included in prosecutors' filings with the
governor in his consideration of Gilliam's bid for clemency.
Maryland executes man for robbery-murder that
netted $3
November 17, 1998
BALTIMORE (CNN) -- A man who killed a woman
during a robbery that netted $3 was executed by injection Monday
night.
Tyrone Gilliam, 32, had been convicted in the Dec. 2,
1988, murder of Christine Doerfler.
Gilliam and two codefendants abducted the 21-year-old
as she arrived at her sister's Baltimore County home and forced her to
drive to an automated teller machine.
The men got no more money, and after driving to a
dead-end street, Gilliam put a sawed-off shotgun to the back of
Doerfler's head and pulled the trigger.
According to Gilliam, the killing came during a
frenzied search for drug money while he was high on PCP and crack
cocaine. He said he confessed twice to the shooting because of police
coercion and bad advice from his attorney.
Brothers Tony and Kelvin Drummond, Gilliam's
codefendants, were both convicted of murder and given life sentences.
Gilliam's last words were to his Nation of Islam
spiritual advisor, Ashiddi Muhammed. "Allah forgive them, for they know
not what they do," he said.
His execution came after Gov. Parris Glendening
refused to grant clemency and the U.S. Supreme Court refused to hear the
case.
Gilliam refused a last meal.
About 60 protesters stood on a street in front of the
prison.
They heard Gilliam's father, Tyrone Gilliam Sr., say
before the execution in a rambling and emotional speech: "Although this
may silence him, don't let his life stop the struggle."
Don't let Maryland kill Tyrone Gilliam
By Virginia Harabin - NoDeathPenalty.org
Tyrone Gilliam, whose voice has convinced hundreds to
become active against the death penalty all across the nation, faces
execution by the state of Maryland during the week of November 16, 1998.
As the New Abolitionist went to press, activists from across the East
Coast were preparing for the largest mobilization of death penalty
opponents the state of Maryland has ever seen. Abolitionists will travel
to Baltimore on November 7 to march on the Maryland Correctional
Adjustment Center in an all-out effort to demand clemency for Tyrone
Gilliam.
Tyrone was convicted and sentenced to death for the
murder of Christine Doerfler. But he didn't receive a fair trial. The
prosecution withheld facts that they were required to give to the
defense-for example, that the "confession" extracted from Tyrone was
obtained when he was high on PCP and suffering from massive head
injuries inflicted by a car wreck.
The arresting officer testified that Tyrone did not
know who or where he was when he was arrested. Other evidence withheld
from the defense includes the fact that one of Tyrone's codefendants
received a deal from the prosecution in exchange for fingering Tyrone.
Now both codefendants who do not sit on death row say that Tyrone wasn't
the triggerman and never handled the gun that killed the victim.
Despite the evidence that Tyrone was denied a fair
trial, and despite Maryland's clear history of racist sentencing
patterns in capital cases, Maryland is prepared to kill Tyrone anyway.
As one of the founders of the event called "Live from
Death Row," Tyrone, along with fellow death-row inmate Kenny Collins,
has become a leading spokesperson against the racist and class-biased
nature of the death penalty. People from Oakland to Chicago to Boston
have spoken directly with Tyrone and been moved to action to prevent his
death. Courageously addressing audiences he cannot see, ready to answer
any question or comment that might come from the floor, Tyrone has used
every opportunity to lead the fight against the death penalty. Hearing
someone like Tyrone-an eloquent, sincere and passionate man on death row-breaks
every stereotype associated with the people sitting death rows in the
U.S.
Less than a year ago, the case of Karla Faye Tucker
helped reopen the national debate about the death penalty, and many
people were challenged to rethink their support for it. We can trace
significant progress in building opposition to the death penalty since
then. While his case is more typical of all the cases that receive
little publicity and have previously not generated much support,
Tyrone's work with the Campaign has done much to change this. Large
numbers of people are angered by Maryland's plan to silence Tyrone X
Gilliam.
As an activist, Tyrone has made the issue of the
death penalty a personal one for hundreds of people who have heard him
speak, and this has helped reinvigorate the fight against the death
penalty for a new generation of activists. "Live from Death Row" events
have involved inmates' families and friends in the fight against the
death penalty. As John Price-Gilliam, Tyrone's brother-in-law, has often
remarked, "We are in the midst of a war on minorities and the poor."
Tyrone uses his own experience to illustrate the
arbitrary use of the death penalty by prosecutors seeking to advance
careers at the expense of individuals, families and entire communities
of ordinary working people. By phone at an event in New York recently,
Tyrone said, "My crime was the result of poverty and desperation.
Politicians kill for power and prestige." Tyrone and his family have
helped forge a strategy to combat the terror and isolation of the death
penalty by bringing more and more people into the struggle to end it.
By Max Obuszewski
BaltimoreChronicle.com
Gov. Parris
Glendening rejected Tyrone X Gilliam’s plea for clemency. As a result,
on Nov. 16,1998, I joined with hundreds of others in a vigil outside the
Maryland Penitentiary, a Gothic monstrosity that admitted its first
prisoner in 1811.
As we vigiled,
Gilliam was strapped down at 10 p.m. inside the pen’s death chamber and
a needle was inserted through his skin. Execution commander William
Sondervan then ordered the lethal injection. The State of Maryland
completed the execution at 10:27 p.m.
As word reached the
vigilers standing behind yellow police tape, I thought of Christine
Doerfler, who was murdered in 1988 after Gilliam and two others, who are
not on death row, carjacked her. One of them shot her to death in a
robbery that netted $3. But Gilliam’s execution cannot bring her back
I also had to deal
with my conscience, which told me not to allow the execution to come
down without some gesture of resistance. This was the third time I
passively accepted an execution. Gov. William Donald Schaefer finished
off the abused and addled John Frederick Thanos in 1994, and Glendening
executed Flint Gregory Hunt in 1997.
All citizens of
Maryland who failed to resist the execution are responsible. Of course,
the active participants must shoulder most of the blame--Gov. Glendening,
Baltimore Circuit Judge John Fader II, who signed the death warrant, and
the prosecutors from Baltimore County, State’s Attorney Sandra O’Connor
and Deputy State’s Attorney Sue Schenning. To a lesser extent, blame is
cast upon Lt. Gov. Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, Stuart Simms, who operates
the Department of Public Safety and Correctional Services, and the
Commissioner of the Division of Correction, Richard Lanham.
From an organizing
perspective, I argue moral suasion will not work with these bureaucrats,
though they should continue to be protested. If there is any hope of
saving Kenneth Collins, next scheduled for execution, I would focus on
the medical community.
Such a focus raises
serious ethical questions that may influence some movers and shakers.
Otherwise, it is likely Collins and the other Death Row inmates--Clarence
Conyers, Jr., Jody Lee Miles, Kevin Wiggins, Anthony Grandison, Heath
William Burch, James Edward Pert, Wallace Dudley Ball, Jean Alex
Clermont, Steven Howard Oken, Wesley Baker, John Marvin Booth, Eugene
Sherman Colvin and Vernon Evans--will also be strapped unto that death
chamber gurney.
Physicians as a group
hold a valued and sensitive position in society. Their knowledge and
skills are to be used in the public interest, and in each patient’s best
interests. The medical profession is committed to humanity and the
relief of suffering. Society’s trust is shattered, however, when medical
skills are used to facilitate state executions.
This is contrary to
the American Medical Association’s ethical opinion: “A physician, as a
member of a profession dedicated to preserving life when there is hope
of doing so, should not be a participant in a legally authorized
execution.”--1992 Code of Medical Ethics, Current Opinions of the
Council on Ethical and Judicial Affairs of the American Medical
Association [article 2.061
Leonard Sipes, Jr.,
director of public information for the Department of Corrections, would
not reveal the exact role played by physicians in the killing of Gilliam.
However, a physician and psychiatrist presumably determined Gilliam,
being of sound body and mind, could be executed. Sondervan, assumed to
be without medical degree, and his staff, were surely trained by medical
personnel. Someone inserted the needle into the prisoner’s vein. A
physician must have been present to monitor the heart. After s/he
determined the demise of the prisoner, the Office of the Chief Medical
Examiner, Dr. John E. Smialek, was called to determine the cause and
manner of death.
In Maryland, mobs
once cheered and made the executions festive occasions, so the
legislators decided to hide the sordid affairs behind penitentiary walls.
To cover up the role of the medical community, the State mandated
anonymity.
The earliest recorded
Maryland execution occurred Oct. 22, 1773, when four convict servants
were hanged in Frederick for the murder of their master. Since 1923,
Maryland performed 83 executions; probably all were men of poor or lower
income status. Sixty-four of them were African Americans.
Hangings were public
spectacles, until opposition surfaced, and in January, 1913 executions
moved behind jail walls. Later, hanging would be discouraged as a humane
method of disposal. So the State used asphyxiation to kill four
prisoners. Now lethal injection, since March 25, 1994, is regarded as
the more humane method of execution.
In the U.S.,
executions have “failed.” Physicians would then revive and resuscitate
the prisoner so that the execution could be completed. On January 30,
1930, Jack Johnson was to be hung at the Maryland Penitentiary, but as
the trap opened, the rope broke. His limp body was returned to the
scaffold, and a fresh rope accomplished the state’s intention.
In response to
physician participation in capital punishment, the American College of
Physicians, Human Rights Watch, the National Coalition to Abolish the
Death Penalty and Physicians for Human Rights published their
conclusions in Breach of Trust:
(1) Laws should
incorporate AMA guidelines excluding physician participation; (2)
Violations of medical ethical standards such as anonymity clauses should
be eliminated; (3) state medical societies should adopt AMA guidelines
against medical participation; and (4) the state medical boards should
define physician participation as unethical conduct and take appropriate
action against violators.
Death penalty
abolitionists must undertake a crusade with the medical community to
work for these recommendations.
In April 1981, with
some apprehension, I toured Auschwitz and entered a Nazi gas chamber,
trying to imagine the horror of being locked in before the Zyklon B gas
was released.
It was with similar
displeasure that I undertook a tour of Maryland’s death chamber on the
Saturday before Gilliam was killed.
I could not help but make a comparison between the monstrous actions
of amoral Nazis and the court-sanctioned activities of anonymous
physicians and Department of Corrections employees.