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Sean Derrick
O'BRIEN
Rape
5 days after
Elizabeth Pena, 16, and Jennifer Ertman, 14, were
walking home from a friend's house, taking a shortcut along some
railroad tracks when they stumbled upon the group.
Evidence showed the girls were gang raped for
more than an hour, then were kicked and beaten before being
strangled.
A red nylon belt was pulled so tight around
Jennifer Ertman's neck that the belt snapped. The belt was later
recovered from O'Brien's home.
The bodies of the two teenage girls were found
four days after they failed to return from a friend's house. When
the bodies were discovered, they were decomposing and mummifying in
100-degree heat.
O'Brien, who confessed to police, was one of six
gang members convicted in the case and the first to be executed.
The ninth-grade dropout, who had previous arrests
for shoplifting a pistol, assault and auto theft, also was a suspect
in a murder six months before the girls were killed but never was
charged.
Evidence put him at a Houston park where the body
of Patricia Lopez, 27, was found. A beer can carrying his
fingerprints was found under the remains of the woman. She had been
raped, eviscerated and had her throat cut.
Two of the gang members, Efrain Perez and Raul
Villarreal, had their death sentences commuted to life in prison
when the Supreme Court last year barred executions for those who
were 17 at the time of their crimes.
Peter Cantu, described by authorities as
ringleader of the gang, remains on death row without an execution
date.
Jose Medellin, who was condemned and who O'Brien
said was at one end of the belt being pulled around Ertman's neck as
he yanked on the other, had his case returned to the state courts
under an order from President Bush. Medellin is among some 50
Mexican-born offenders who argue that under international law they
should have been allowed assistance from the Mexican Consulate
before trial.
A sixth person convicted, Medellin's brother,
Vernancio, was 14 at the time and received a 40-year prison term.
Final Meal:
Declined.
Final Words:
"I am sorry. I have always been sorry," O'Brien said, holding his
head up and looking straight at relatives of his victims. "It is the
worst mistake that I ever made in my whole life. Not because I am
here but because of what I did and I hurt a lot of people, you and
my family." He repeated again and again that he was sorry.
ClarkProsecutor.org
"I'm no fan of the death penalty, but that guy
brought it on himself," said Steve Baldassano, who prosecuted
O'Brien. "It was horrible."
O'Brien, who confessed to police, was one of six
gang members convicted in the case and the first to be executed.
The ninth-grade dropout, who had previous arrests
for shoplifting a pistol, assault and auto theft, also was a suspect
in a murder six months before the girls were killed but never was
charged.
Evidence put him at a Houston park where the body
of Patricia Lopez, 27, was found. A beer can carrying his
fingerprints was found under the remains of the woman. She had been
raped, eviscerated and had her throat cut.
Two of the gang members, Efrain Perez and Raul
Villarreal, had their death sentences commuted to life in prison
when the Supreme Court last year barred executions for those who
were 17 at the time of their crimes.
Peter Cantu, described by authorities as
ringleader of the gang, remains on death row without an execution
date.
Jose Medellin, who was condemned and who O'Brien
said was at one end of the belt being pulled around Ertman's neck as
he yanked on the other, had his case returned to the state courts
under an order from President Bush. Medellin is among some 50
Mexican-born offenders who argue that under international law they
should have been allowed assistance from the Mexican Consulate
before trial.
A sixth person convicted, Medellin's brother,
Vernancio, was 14 at the time and received a 40-year prison term.
Contrary to the prosecutor’s statements otherwise,
the Supreme Court has set a “low threshold of mitigating
circumstances.” Therefore, both the fact that O’Brien was 18 at the
time of the crime, as well as evidence regarding his good behavior
while in jail, are relevant mitigating factors. Such comments were
made by the both during jury selection, as well as during the
prosecutor’s closing arguments. During closing arguments the
prosecutor stated:
Then you move on to [Special Issue] No. 3, then
you look at the Charge. And it tells you to ask yourself if there's
anything mitigating. And we talked about what does mitigating
mean.... What, if anything, is mitigating about him that you heard?
The only thing that I can possibly think of is that the guy's
learning disabled in arithmetic, he can't add... It doesn't take a
rocket scientist to figure out if you can't add that doesn't give
you the right to go out and kill ... other people. So there's not
anything at all that you heard from any witness that is mitigating.
Thus, the proper procedural instructions given to
the jury by the judge regarding mitigating evidence were negated by
the prosecutor’s comments.
In other words, it is likely that the jury,
believing the prosecutor’s statement that there must be a connection
between the mitigating evidence and the crime, did not properly
weigh the mitigating evidence that they were presented with and
ultimately decided upon a sentence that they would not have
otherwise.
In December of 2005 the U.S. Fifth Circuit Court
of Appeals denied O’Brien’s request for a certificate of
appealability despite the evidence presented in support of the
issues outlined above.
There is no way to say for sure that a different
jury, one that had been spared the prosecutor’s commentary, would
not have decided upon a different fate for O’Brien.
On May 15th of 2006, Derrick O’Brien was granted
a temporary stay of execution in response to a last minute writ of
habeas corpus.
O’Brien argued that the three chemical
combination used by Texas to carry out executions may "unnecessarily
create a risk that O’Brien will suffer excruciating excessive pain
during the administration of his lethal injection." In a similar
case in Florida, Clarence Hill was granted a stay of execution on
the same grounds.
Two days later on May 17th O’Brien’s stay of
execution was lifted. The main argument for lifting the stay was
that O’Brien brought forth no scientific or factual evidence showing
that the chemicals used in a lethal injection cause any pain.
Judge’s Holcomb and Price, in a dissenting
opinion, stated that they believed the stay of execution was
originally made to give the court time to rule on this appeal, but
that the decision to lift the stay was rushed.
Neither judge makes a statement about whether or
not the method of lethal injection in Texas violates the eighth
amendment; however they do express an interest in seeing the matter
resolved in an actual hearing where O’Brien would be able to present
such evidence.
Derrick Sean O’Brien should not be executed
without being able to present all of the above evidence in court,
including mitigating and scientific evidence.
Elizabeth was also strangled with her shoelaces,
after crying and begging the gang members not to kill them;
bargaining, offering to give them her phone number so they could get
together again.
The medical examiner testified that Elizabeth's
two front teeth were knocked out of her brutalized mouth before she
died and that two of Jennifer's ribs were broken after she had died.
Testimony showed that the girls' bodies were
kicked and their necks were stomped on after the strangulations in
order to "make sure that they were really dead."
The juvenile pled guilty to his charge and his
sentence will be reviewed when he turns 18, at which time he could
be released. The other five were tried for capital murder in Harris
County, Texas, convicted and sentenced to death. I attended all five
trials with the Ertmans and know too well the awful things that they
and the Penas had to hear and see in the course of seeing Justice
served for their girls.
Two VERY important things in the criminal justice
system have changed as a result of these murders. After the trial of
Peter Cantu, Judge Bill Harmon allowed the family members to address
the convicted. This had not previously been done in Texas courts and
now is done as a matter of routine.
The other change came from the Texas Department
of Corrections which instituted a new policy allowing victims'
families the choice and right to view the execution of their
perpetrators. I had an ever-swaying opinion on the death penalty
before this happened to people I know, before I watched the justice
system at work firsthand. I have now come to believe that there are
some crimes so heinous, so unconscionable that there can be no other
appropriate punishment than the death penalty.
This is why I joined Justice For All. Charlene
Hall
Update - 1996
Vinnie Medellin was sentenced at age 14 to forty
years in the Texas Department of Corrections for the crime of
aggravated sexual assault upon Jennifer Ertman, to which he pled
guilty.
As a juvenile, he was remanded to the custody of
the Texas Youth Commission where he would remain until age eighteen.
He testified at all of the other trials except for that of his
brother, Jose Medellin. He refused to answer any questions at his
brother's trial and was held in contempt of court and sentenced to
six months in county jail, to be served at the end of his current
sentence.
On September 26, 1996, after three years in the
custody of the TYC, a hearing was held to determine the future of
the juvenile. Three outcomes were possible; he could have been
released on parole, a possibility which was never even discussed; he
could have been returned to TYC custody until he reached the age of
21 at which time another hearing would have been held; or he could
have been sent to TDC to serve the remainder of his sentence as an
adult.
The recommendation of TYC was that he continue
treatment at TYC until age 21. He was said to be an excellent inmate
and did not have behavior problems and participated in all required
therapies. On the other hand, his counselors reported that he still
seemed to show no remorse for his part in the crimes and also did
not take responsibility for his part.
The courtroom was filled with supporters of the
girls' families, most of whom did not know them before the murders
and who have become friends through Justice For All or Parents of
Murdered Children. There was testimony about the details of the
crime from a detective who was present at the murder scene and
participated in the investigation and arrests.
A therapist from TYC testified as to Vinnie's
stay at TYC and the reports of various counselors and therapists.
Vinnie's father testified as to his good behavior before this
incident.
Randy Ertman took the witness stand to tell the
court about his daughter, Jennifer. When asked what Jenny's hobbies
were, he elicited bittersweet smiles in the courtroom when he
responded, "Shopping!" Randy told the judge that he was living
through the worst possible thing that could happen to a family and
implored the judge to send Vinnie to TDC and to not make the
families repeat this process in three years.
Vinnie took the stand and was asked about his
past behavior, his grades at school and how he happened to be with
his brother on this night. He read a letter that he had written,
telling the parents of the victims that he was sorry for their
losses and warning other teenagers away from gangs, saying that he
had gone with this gang for one hour and had ruined his life forever.
Judge Pat Shelton did not take a recess to ponder
his decision. He said that he agreed with Mr. Ertman, that this is
the nightmare of nightmares for a parent. He said that he also
agreed with Vinnie Medellin that gangs were destructive but that "you
have to mean what you say when you are walking out the front door of
your house, not just when you are walking in the door of the
courtroom."
He also said "I'm not sure that your future
parole officer has even been BORN yet and I'm not sure that you
deserve for him to have even been born yet." He rejected the report
from the TYC as "psycho-babble" and transferred custody of Venancio
Medellin to the Texas Department of Corrections.
Charlene Hall
Update
I just wanted to let visitors know what is going
on with the killers' appeals. Two of the murderers had an execution
date set for June 2004, on and the day after the 11th anniversary of
the murders. The two were Efrain Perez and Raul Villarreal.
They both received a stay because of an appeal
that was to be heard before the US Supreme Court regarding a case
from Missouri that challenged the execution of any murderer who was
under the age of 18 at the time of the crime. Both of these killers
were not yet 18 when they brutally attacked and killed the girls.
Villarreal turned 18 in three months, and Perez turned 18 five
months after the murders.
The arguments in this case were heard in the fall
of 2004 and the decision was handed down a few months later; no more
death penalties for "juvenile" murderers. This will result in these
two killers, plus dozens more across the country, being removed from
death row and given life sentences instead.
In this case, it is life without the possibility
of parole for 35 years because that was the alternative to a death
sentence in a capital case at the time of the murders. They will
certainly never be released from prison, but they should have been
executed.
The only consolation is that they will no longer
have the protection they now have on death row - they will be in the
general population of the prison system and most regular prisoners
do not like people who rape and murder children. They might have
gotten a reprieve but it may be much worse in the end, a true case
of be careful what you wish for...
Additionally, a third killer out of the five who
were put on death row for this crime had an appeal pending before
the US Supreme Court. In this instance, Joe Medellin claims that he
should get a new trial because he is a Mexican national and should
have been allowed to contact the Mexican consulate for legal
assistance. However, he had lived in the US since he was six years
old and had gone to elementary, middle and high school here. The
Supreme Court heard arguments in the case in spring of 2005 and sent
the case back to the state court for a hearing.
In a ruling that could have implications for a
Houston death row case, the U.S. Supreme Court on Wednesday ruled
against foreign suspects who want to suppress statements they gave
to police during interrogations when they were not informed of their
right to contact consulate officials from their home countries. The
court ruled 6-3 that Mexican Moises Sanchez-Llamas' and Honduran
Mario Bustillo's rights under the Vienna Convention were not
violated because the treaty's consulate-notification provision does
not apply to searches or interrogations.
Those cases originated in Oregon and Virginia,
respectively. But the court's ruling could affect a Texas death-penalty
case as well. Mexican national Jose Ernesto Medellin raised the same
issue of Vienna Convention violations in his appeals. Medellin was
one of six defendants convicted in the 1993 rape and murder of
Jennifer Ertman, 14, and Elizabeth Peña, 16, in a northwest Houston
park. "The court could have used Jose's case a long time ago to hand
down the same ruling they handed down today," Medellin's attorney,
Michael B. Charlton, said from his office in El Prado, N.M. "That
pretty much ends Vienna Convention claims on confession claims but
not on the other issues," he added. Medellin's case is under review
by the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals after President Bush's edict
last year for courts in Texas and other states to review his and 50
others involving foreign nationals who raised consular violation
claims. But the court's decision does not relate to Bush's order.
In the majority opinion, Chief Justice John
Roberts specified that Article 36 of the Vienna Convention "secures
only a right of foreign nationals to have their consulate "informed"
of their arrest or detention - not to have their consulate intervene,
or to have law enforcement authorities cease their investigation
pending any such notice or intervention." Under the convention,
ratified by the United States in 1969, when a national of one
country is detained by authorities in another country, authorities
must notify the consular offices of the foreigner's home country
when requested.
Roberts also wrote that a detained foreign national,
"like everyone else in our country, enjoys under our system the
protections of the Due Process Clause." He set aside, however, the
matter of whether police must advise defendants of their legal
options. Roberts was careful to stipulate that the ruling "in no way
disparages the importance of the Vienna Convention."
In a dissenting opinion, Justice Stephen Breyer
wrote that the decision runs afoul of the treaty's interpretation "not
only with the treaty's language and history, but also with the (International
Court of Justice's) interpretation of the same treaty provision."
Justices John Paul Stevens and David Souter joined in the dissent.
Breyer wrote that the ruling may weaken respect abroad for the
rights of foreign nationals and diminishes the treaty's proviso that
foreign nationals are deserving of fair treatment throughout the
world. A spokesman for the Texas Attorney General's Office, which is
handling the Court of Criminal Appeals case involving Medellin,
declined to comment about the potential impact of the court's ruling.
Appeals court had granted, then reversed, a stay for teens' killer
In an opinion issued Wednesday concurring with
the majority vote, Texas Court of Criminal Appeals Judge Cathy
Cochran explained that the court postponed O'Brien's execution to
look more closely at the procedural issues as well as the merits of
O'Brien's claim.
She wrote that O'Brien failed to do more than
speculate about the "problems or mistakes that "might" occur." She
wrote further that he has not provided evidence that the three-drug
protocol used during executions "is subject to any realistic risk of
unnecessary pain or suffering."
It was the court's job, he wrote, to
determine whether the appeal was appropriately filed as a state
habeas corpus petition. "It is manifestly unfair, in my estimation,
to fault the applicant for a failure of proof without first
affording him an opportunity to present evidence at a hearing or
through one of the other mechanisms that the statute allows for
presentation of evidence," Price wrote.
Rob Owen, a University of Texas law school
adjunct professor and death penalty expert, agreed with Price,
saying that the court skirted the procedural question. "It sounds
like Price is criticizing the court saying it has gone around that
question and gone straight to the underlying constitutional question,"
Owen said. "He's saying they're putting the cart before the horse."
Roe Wilson, a Harris County prosecutor, said she
will file a request for a state district court to reschedule
O'Brien's execution. She said she had not received the order
Wednesday afternoon and would not comment further. A new execution
date could be set within 30 days.
The reversal was the latest twist in a case that
has already seen two death sentences commuted to life. O'Brien and
four other gang members were sentenced to death for the June 24,
1993, deaths of Waltrip High School sophomores Jennifer Ertman, 14,
and Elizabeth Peña, 16. Another gang member, a juvenile, received a
40-year sentence.
Last year, two gang members were spared from the
death chamber after the Supreme Court ruled those who kill when they
are younger than 18 should not be put to death.
Randy Ertman, father of Jennifer Ertman, said he
is frustrated that the waiting process now starts anew. "It's just
nerve-racking," he said. "I don't know what the hell to think
anymore." Andy Kahan, Mayor Bill White's crime victims advocate,
said the court relented because the judges concluded "it would be
foolhardy to put a halt to justice." "It's a bleeping roller coaster
ride," Kahan said. "Everything that can possibly happen on these
cases has. ... The (families) have been belted around so much this
week by the system."
Richard Stoll, a Rice University political science professor,
said Bush's decision showed a proper willingness to buck Texas
Republicans now that he has broader responsibilities. "There is a
certain amount of irony in the president siding against Texas in
this case, but when he changed jobs he changed his perspective." he
said.
Mexican officials cheered.
"It is very important that the Mexican government express its
satisfaction and its recognition of this determination by the United
States' executive power, which without a doubt will have an
important effect on the cases of our compatriots," said Arturo Dager,
legal representative to Mexico's foreign ministry.
Predictably, death penalty
opponents hailed the court's decision to re-open the constitutional
issue of proper punishment for teen killers while victims' advocates
shook their heads.
David Atwood of the Texas Coalition to Abolish
the Death Penalty said 17-year-olds are not able to take
responsibility for their crimes the way adults can, and therefore
should be exempt from the death penalty. "Teenagers do things that
are spontaneous, without thinking," he said in Houston, being sure
to add that the organization does not try to minimize the horror of
the crimes.
Texas victims advocates pointed out that juries are
allowed to consider a killer's age when deciding whether the
punishment should be life in prison or death. Supreme Court justices
vote in secret on whether to accept a case, and at least four of the
nine must say yes for a case to be heard on appeal.
In 2003, four
justices wrote that it is shameful to execute juveniles. "The
practice of executing such offenders is a relic of the past and is
inconsistent with evolving standards of decency in a civilized
society," Justice John Paul Stevens said. He was joined by David H.
Souter, Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Stephen Breyer.
They
bound her with electrical tape and pushed her off a railroad bridge
to drown. Simmons told teenage friends that they would avoid
punishment because of their young ages, prosecutors said.
A Missouri court overturned Simmons' death sentence, adopting Supreme Court
thinking on its ban on executing the mentally retarded. Missouri and
Texas are among 21 states that allow the execution of convicts under
18. It is banned for capital crimes prosecuted in federal courts.
The Texas attorney general's office would not comment on why it has
not joined the legal arguments in the Simmons case in support of the
death penalty for 17-year-olds. Nor would it comment on the Texas
cases that could be affected.
If the
Supreme Court preserves the death penalty for young killers, a
postponed execution could be carried out more quickly than if the
original date was halted by Supreme Court order, Wilson explained.
The execution of Napolean Beazley in May 2002 drew internal
criticism of Texas for allowing such punishment. He was 17 when he
committed a 1994 murder in Tyler.
Lawyer Walter Long, who
unsuccessfully asked for Beazley's punishment to be blocked, said it
is fascinating that the Supreme Court will decide on the clashing
approaches to the law in Texas and Missouri. "Two different states,
two different results," he said of the Beazley and Simmons cases.
Now that Beazley is dead, he said, the Supreme Court action "is
ironic, I guess."
She said that if the
Supreme Court bans the punishment, it will be saying it doesn't care
about victims' survivors. "If the ultimate outcome is that
defendants who are 17 are not eligible to be executed, then we have
taken an entire process and completely dismantled it," she said.
Three inmates from Harris County are the only ones in the nation
with execution dates set for crimes they committed while 17,
according to experts.
Edward Brian Capetillo, 26, former laborer
born in Harris County; March 30 execution date. Convicted in 1996 as
one of five men who killed two young Houston adults in their home
after the victims refused to buy a gun and a scale.
Efrain Perez,
28, former painter born in Cameron County; June 23 execution date.
Convicted in 1994 as one of six young men who committed the rape and
murder of Jennifer Ertman and Elizabeth Pena in Houston. Admitted
raping and strangling Pena.
Raul Omar Villareal, 28, former
carpenter born in Harris County; June 24 execution date. Convicted
in 1994 in the Ertman-Pena murders. Bragged that he stepped on
Ertman's neck.
Perez has exhausted nearly all of his appeal options but still has a
standing request for a hearing before the U.S. Supreme Court.
Perez's attorney, Kevin Dunn, was unavailable for comment. Randy
Ertman , whose daughter was killed in the gang attack, said he plans
to attend the executions and hopes that another of the five men,
Jose Medellin, also can be scheduled for execution next summer. "I
like this," Ertman said. "We've got to get the other one on (June)
25th and we're set."
Medellin, who was 18 at the time of the murders,
is expected to be sentenced in 2005. The remaining two men convicted
of capital murder in the girls' deaths, Peter Cantu and Derrick
O'Brien, both also 18 at the time, are expected to be executed in
2006.
But prison officials discourage
scheduling more than one per day because of the logistics, such as
providing a last meal and visits by relatives and the chaplain, said
Harris County Assistant District Attorney Jane Scott.
Pena and
Ertman were high school sophomores walking home late at night near
White Oak Bayou and T.C. Jester Park, on the northwest side, when
they happened upon the group of young gang members engaged in a
violent initiation.
The girls' bodies were found four days later.
The gang members were arrested after police received a tip. It was a
landmark case for victims' rights advocates. Cantu's trial was one
of the first in which a judge permitted a victim's relative to speak
directly to a convicted murderer.
Although criticized at the time,
the practice is common today. The state also had prohibited victims'
family members from viewing executions, but that policy has also
been changed.
The exchange was broken up by bystanders and
the two parted without further incident. "We also care very much for
the victims of crime and their family," Atwood explained afterward.
"But sometimes they are so angry, they will totally reject any type
of concern that we might have."
Asked if
he had anything to say, Villarreal replied, "No sir." Jennifer's
father, Randy Ertman, tossed Anderson a salute. Ertman, 14, and
Pena, 16, both high school sophomores, were taking a shortcut home
from a party when they happened upon Villarreal and five other young
men, ages 14 through 18, near railroad tracks in a wooded area of
northwest Houston.
The girls were sexually assaulted, beaten and
strangled with a belt and a shoelace. Their bodies were found four
days later. A Crime Stoppers tip led to the arrests. he case was a
landmark for families of crime victims.
Largely through the efforts
of Randy Ertman, the parents won the right to make statements in
court to their daughters' murderers, and to witness the executions.
After waiting 10
years, he said, "six months ain't nothing." Adolph Pena agreed. "It's
been a long time coming, but I feel good," he said. "I've been
looking forward to this a long, long time." Ertman, a house painter,
now lives with his wife at Lake Somerville.
Pena, who does drywall
work, and his wife live near Hockley. Villarreal's mother, Luisa,
choked back tears and declined to comment. But Dave Atwood, of the
Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty, said, "Every time we
have an execution, we create another set of victims. Luisa and her
family are now the other set of victims . . . It just keeps this
cycle of vengeance and violence going."
Villarreal's attorney, John
Wynne, said he will appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court on grounds that
his client, now 28, was a 17-year-old juvenile at the time of the
murders. But Wynne said the high court in 1989 held that it is
constitutional to execute defendants who were juveniles when they
committed their crimes.
OTHER DEFENDANTS
Possible execution dates for others in the case:
2005 for Efrain Perez, Jose Medellin
2006 for Peter Cantu, Derrick O'Brien
Venancio "Vinny" Medellin is serving a 40-year sentence.
Their badly mauled bodies were
found four days later, leading to a real-life horror story that hit
the city, and even the nation, like a kick in the gut.
The vicious
murders of Pena and 14-year-old Jennifer Ertman led to major changes
in how the criminal justice system deals with crime victims and
their families. It also gave momentum to the victims' rights
movement.
The two girls, sophomores at Waltrip
High School, were walking home on the night of June 24, 1993, when
they took a shortcut down a trail near White Oak Bayou and T.C.
Jester Park. hey walked into the midst of the Black and White Gang,
a small, violent group of teens who were initiating 17-year-old Raul
Omar Villarreal.
To join the gang, Villareal had to fight members
Derrick Sean O'Brien, Peter Anthony Cantu and Jose Ernesto Medellin,
all 18, and Efrain Perez, 17. Medellin had brought his brother,
Venancio "Vinnie" Medellin, 14.
The deaths were the 250th and 251st homicides in a year that totaled
497, but the police and prosecutors who worked on the case will
never forget them, said Harris County Assistant District Attorney
Kelly Siegler. "They were horrible," she said. "Those pictures - all
of us were seasoned prosecutors, and they were the worst any of us
had ever seen."
The adult defendants were convicted and sentenced to
death. Vinnie Medellin received a life sentence. A major precedent
was set at the end of Cantu's trial, when state District Judge Bill
Harmon allowed Ertman's father, Randy, to address the convicted
murderer.
His blistering comments shocked many onlookers and
outraged a few. Harmon was castigated by fellow judges and newspaper
editorials for allowing the display.
Harmon said he believed the parents deserved the right to
speak after conducting themselves with dignity through days of
gruesome testimony. He made the same offer to Adolph Pena, who
declined in Cantu's case but later made statements after other
trials.
Andy Kahan, director of the Houston Victims' Assistance
Center, hailed Harmon's decision as the start of a statewide trend.
Kahan recalls that, after Harmon told Ertman he could address the
killer, one of the deputies in the courtroom told Kahan that they
would give Ertman a few minutes and, "If he comes over the rail,
we'll give him a few more."
Another change that resulted
from the Ertman-Pena case was the decision to allow victims'
relatives to witness executions. Randy Ertman expressed such a
desire after Cantu's trial, but Kahan said he found that victims'
families, along with prison inmates, were prohibited from viewing
executions.
With help from the then-fledgling group Justice for All,
Kahan said, two sponsors were found for a bill that would change
that. It died without coming to a full vote, however. Kahan, the
Ertmans and the Penas then went to the Texas Board of Criminal
Justice, which voted unanimously to change the policy.
Today, Kahan
said, about 75 percent of executions are viewed by victims' families.
"The Ertman-Pena legacy will live on in this state," he said.
Victim impact statements: Although a 1980s state law allowed the
statements, few people knew about the provision until state District
Judge Bill Harmon allowed Randy Ertman to address killer Peter Cantu
after Cantu's conviction.
Victims' relatives witnessing executions:
Ertman and Adolph Pena expressed a desire to witness the executions
of their daughters' killers. Victims' rights advocates helped to get
the prison system's policy changed, and now most executions are
viewed by victims' families.
Castlebury said an internal affairs investigation is under way to
determine how Perez obtained the metal piece used to fashion the
blade of the spear, how long it had been in his cell and if it had
been overlooked during inspections.
The attack by Perez occurred in
the same unit where seven inmates staged a daring escape attempt by
using a hacksaw to cut their way out of a recreation yard last
November.
One of them, Martin Gurule, made it outside the prison but
was found dead a week later floating in a creek not far away. Last
Sunday a convicted murderer from Dallas escaped from the Estelle
high-security prison, located not far from the Ellis Unit.
The girls, Jennifer Ertman, 14, and Elizabeth Pena, 16, were walking
home near T.C. Jester and West 34th Street when they came upon Perez
and the others, who were drinking and beating a new gang member as
part of his initiation.
The girls were raped, strangled, kicked and
stomped to death. Arguing for the death penalty at Perez's trial,
prosecutor Marie Munier told the jury he was "a predatory animal and
Houston and Harris County was his roaming ground."
Life in prison,
she said, would not declaw him. "Just because you put him in a cage
doesn't make him any less a predator," she said. "You stick your
hand in a lion's cage and he's going to try to scratch it."
The anger, however, stays dormant in
his mind until people ask about his girl, his only child. He said
the madness doesn't burn inside like it once did.
These days Ertman
and his wife, Sandy, 55, worry about more mundane things, like
finding the day's good fishing spots and keeping pesky deer away
from their fledgling tomato plants. They laugh and have fun together
again.
He works as a painter and they live on three-quarters of an
acre in the peaceful country in Lyons, miles and miles away from
their Heights-area neighborhood where there are constant reminders.
The girls'
partially decomposed bodies were found near White Oak Bayou and T.C.
Jester Park four days later. Since then the Ertmans and Melissa and
Adolph Pena have tried to survive the grief of losing a child in one
of the city's most vicious crimes.
The families endured the graphic
testimony in five separate capital murder trials, where all five
were sentenced to die. Another defendant, a juvenile, is serving 40
years. Over and over again they listened to the confessions, which
detailed the hour-long torture of the girls.
Now the families can
think of the girls differently, as the happy-go-lucky, innocent
girls they were when they were alive. Others will join the families
in remembering the girls in a short memorial service at 6 p.m. today
near the benches on the south side of T.C Jester Park.
Prosecutors, police officers and victims rights activists - who are
regularly exposed to gruesome crimes - say their lives still are
affected by the murders. The Ertmans, who moved into a small, yellow,
country home near Somerville four months ago, do not talk much about
the murders anymore.
They can relax with a short walk to a pond, and
an even shorter walk to the shaded porch. "We are not escaping,"
said Sandy Ertman. "We just changed our lives."
In the old house,
there was a photographic shrine to Jennifer. In the new house, there
are two pictures on display. Neighbors don't know about the killings
unless they notice Randy Ertman's tattoo shrine to his daughter on
his arms.
But he never tires of talking about the death of
the perpetrators, expected to be executed in the next five years. He
is obsessed with their deaths. He plans to quit smoking this year so
he can live long enough to witness each one of them receive the
lethal injection.
Ertman even visited death row to get a feel for
the killers' new home. While touring it, he spotted Efrain Perez,
one of the defendants, in the day room. Perez charged at Ertman -
they were separated by plastic shield and bars - and began cursing
him in Spanish.
Soon after the murders, Ertman said, he gave serious
thought to having the defendants killed. He said he was consumed
with anger. And that rage combined with about 20-30 beers a day made
for a very "crazy" man, he said.
Now she's content to
learn how to can fruit, and has started learning how to bake bread.
With money they had saved for Jennifer's college education and money
they made from selling their Houston home they paid for the land
near Lake Somerville.
The couple built the little yellow house that
has been a haven for them. They are enjoying their marriage and the
outdoors. Life is renewed.
They return to Houston every two weeks
only to visit their daughter's grave. They no longer go to victim
rights meetings; the focus on death and crime was not helping them
heal, they said. Being away from constant talk about crime has done
wonders for them, they said.
The past five years have brought the same exhausting
sorrow for them. But unlike the Ertmans, the Penas still live in the
same house, near the park where their daughter was killed. At least
now, Melissa Pena said, they think of happy things about Elizabeth,
not just about her death.
The family, however, is not the same.
There are problems at home that have gotten worse over the past five
years. The couple's 18-year-old son has had serious problems since
his sister's death, and has not learned to cope with the tragedy,
Melissa Pena said. "From age 13 to 18 for him has been a living hell,"
she said.
Adolph Pena, 42, a drywall contractor, said he now has an
appreciation for more of the little things in life. The other day he
witnessed a heated argument between a friend and his son over a
fishing lure. He said he thought to himself, if they only realized
how silly they were.
The Penas also have backed off their involvement in victims rights
groups because their efforts seemed fruitless. Now they volunteer
with the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo, helping children.
Even
those who were not related to the girls get a familiar lump in their
throats this time of year. Prosecutor Kelly Siegler said she is
still affected by the case, though she has had numerous murder
trials.
Siegler, who prosecuted Raul Villareal, 18, said the murder
scene was the worst she has seen in her career. Siegler said back
then she wasn't sure about seeking the death penalty for young first
offenders, like Villareal. "That was my fourth death penalty case. I
used to think if they were young we ought to cut them some slack,"
she said. "Youth doesn't bother me anymore. It made me a little
harder."
Houston police Sgt. Ray Zaragoza was an
investigator on the case, and he also thinks about the case
regularly. He said he will never forget the murder scene, and what
the girls looked like after four days in the woods. He said he can
still picture their partially decomposed bodies, and the injuries
they sustained.
Zaragoza, who now works as an investigator for the
district attorney's office, took vacation time to watch the trials
when he was not testifying. Victim rights volunteers say the murders
changed the city, in tangible and subtle ways.
Justice for All was
just starting to draw members when the girls were murdered. That
crime was the last straw for people, and the group began to grow,
said Dianne Clements, president. "It was so unbelievable," she said.
"Because of the absolute innocence of these two girls. "Everybody
looked at Jennifer and Elizabeth and said this could have been my
daughter, my sister, or my friend."
Since the law changed in 1996, 75 percent of
the families have opted to watch, Kahan said. Also, Ertman was the
first family member of a victim to address defendants face to face
in court after sentencing. The policy had existed, but judges had
not allowed it. Now the practice is common.
The Ertmans and Penas
know this memorial service will unleash their grief again, but they
also know they have come a long way. "It sounds kind of trite to say,"
Melissa Pena said, "but life does go on."
The final
consequences were literally unimaginable: two innocent teen-agers
savagely raped and strangled, five young men ticketed for death row,
and Vinny - half-man, half-boy - placed in a legal limbo that would
certainly mean a few years at a youth facility and perhaps decades
more in prison.
Medellin returned to Houston 10 days ago for a
mandatory hearing pegged to his soon turning 18. At issue was
whether he would be transferred from the Giddings State School, the
Texas Youth Commission site for serious offenders, to the adult
prison system.
Having been given what is called a determinate
sentence, he could have been paroled at that time, held by TYC until
he is 21 and then released, or sent to prison to serve the remainder
of his 40-year term. TYC's recommendation, glowing in its praise,
was to keep him till 21.
No local case has better represented the new dimension of teen-age violence than the
murders of Jennifer Ertman and Elizabeth Pena. It was no surprise
that neither the prosecutor nor the judge wanted to hear talk of
Medellin's potential.
Though Medellin was not accused of complicity
in the abduction or the killings, the simple fact that he had been
part of a brutal assault that turned bestial at its conclusion was
all that needed to be known. "Medellin's offense in and of itself is
sufficient to justify that sentence," said Judge Pat Shelton, who at
the end of the hearing dismissed TYC's report as "psychobabble" and
said he hopes Medellin's future parole officer has not been born yet.
Shelton's opinion is that
serious crimes deserve serious time no matter what the age of the
offender. Period.
It is a philosophy that stands sharply in contrast
to the traditional rehabilitative mission of the juvenile justice
system, but he does not apologize for it. "Can we rehabilitate the
15-year-old, and is it worth the time and expense (considering) the
crime committed? The answer is no." Shelton said. "At the time of
the transfer hearing, I have to consider what that offense was worth,
not what the offender is worth. That's the difference between the
court and TYC."
Juvenile authorities, however, strongly defend their
recommendation for Medellin. And they worry that the rush to heap
maximum punishment on young offenders will only backfire down the
line. "I said in my cover letter to the judge it would be easy to
transfer him," said Giddings Superintendent Stan DeGerolami.
Given how messed up their lives are, that is no easy task. Within
three years of release from TYC, 42 percent of youthful offenders
are re-incarcerated. The rate for the adult prison system is only
slightly worse, running just under 50 percent.
The statistics on
violent offenders have not been broken out, however. Nor has the ""new
TYC" been around long enough to fully demonstrate an impact, its
backers say.
TYC has changed in recent years, putting much more
emphasis on punishment and accountability. Discipline is serious and
offenders' days are highly structured. Treatment programs have been
enhanced.
There is no doubt that the increase and
severity of juvenile crime has resulted in youthful offenders being
treated far differently than they were a decade ago.
The determinate
sentencing law, first passed in 1987, gave authorities the ability
to imprison youths guilty of violent offenses for up to 40 years
instead of having to release them at 21.
The law has proved a useful
and often used tool. Almost 700 offenders have been sentenced with
it, half of them getting terms 15 years or longer.
And of those
whose hearing had come up by the end of 1995, 40 percent were sent
on to prison. On Jan. 1, 1996, the age at which juveniles can be
tried as adults was lowered to 14.
The three local juvenile courts combined to
certify 131 last year. Five years earlier, the total was 20. Head
juvenile prosecutor Elizabeth Godwin said her office is taking
advantage of the broader certification law, especially now that TYC
has been given authority to keep offenders till 21 or parole them
before without having to get a court's permission.
That scenario,
under which Medellin never would have gone to the adult system,
makes using determinate sentencing much less palatable to
prosecutors. Unless the crime rate dips dramatically, more and more
juvenile offenders are likely to be certified as adults.
"The public
and the Legislature came to the conclusion we (the juvenile system)
shouldn't be wasting time with kids like this," said Godwin, who
wholeheartedly agrees with them. "I have no sympathy for violent
offenders no matter what age."
"I would hate to see what this society would be like if
everybody gave up hope that we can make a difference with some of
these kids," said Judy Briscoe, TYC chief of staff and head of
delinquency prevention. "I realize there are some kids who need to
be locked up for the rest of their lives. But not all of them."
Briscoe argues that even those who have committed a very serious
violent crime deserve a chance to go through the program. If they do
well in it, they should be considered for release, she said.
Added
DeGerolami: ""I don't think the adult system is such a good system
that you can send a 14-year-old over there and like what you see
when he comes out."
That may be, but to those who view themselves on
the victims' side - including some judges - rehabilitation simply
does not enter into the equation. The issue of punishment is
paramount.
He did very well in
the TYC treatment program. He got into no trouble and received his
GED. Over time he accepted full responsibility for his actions. For
the record, he also cooperated with authorities and testified in all
of the murder trials save his brother's.
But the crime in which he
was involved was very serious. Shouldn't he have to pay for that? "We've
lost the whole history of the juvenile justice system," said Pena-Garcia,
who saw in Medellin a good kid who made one mistake for one minute
of his life. "Until we have a system where a judge feels safe making
a ruling on law rather than popular opinion, we're going to have
that problem."
Responded Shelton: "Our system is as rational as it's
ever been. What is a crime worth? You make your best call. He was
lucky. If he'd been a year older, he'd be in prison for life and
have to serve at least 40 years."
On June 24, 1993, the two girls were
walking on railroad tracks in the 3600 block of T.C. Jester when
they encountered the gang members, who had just finished an
initiation event. The girls were raped, beaten and strangled. The
murders sparked immense community outrage and remain one of the
city's most notorious crimes.
Medellin, then 14, pleaded guilty to
aggravated sexual assault and was sentenced to the maximum juvenile
sentence of 40 years. He was not accused in the murders.
During
Thursday's transfer hearing, a TYC psychologist said Medellin had
perfect behavior in the home and was making excellent progress
toward rehabilitation. Medellin testified that he has remorse for
raping Ertman.
The judge's other options were
to send Medellin back to TYC until he turns 21 or parole him.
Defense attorney Esmerelda Pena Garcia said the ruling makes
Medellin's chances of rehabilitation slim now. She called him an
intelligent man who has talent in art and wants to be an architect.
Patricia Lopez, 27, was found with her throat and
abdomen slashed open, her clothes torn off and scattered about a
northeast Houston park. O'Brien admitted that he, Cantu and Medellin
bought Lopez gasoline in exchange for beer. She was killed when
O'Brien ordered her to perform oral sex and she failed to arouse him.
Approved by the Senate 28-0 in March,
the bill died in the House because it ran out of time to consider
the measure. "I cannot understand why this bill died," said Andy
Kahan, director of the Mayor's Crime Victims Office. "It sailed
through committee and the Senate with no opposition. It does not
cost anything."
Louisiana is the only state that by law allows
families of victims to witness executions. California, Washington
and North Carolina allow such witnesses through its prison
department policy, Kahan said.
That would be requesting the Texas Department of Criminal
Justice to include the new witnesses in its policy on viewing
executions. "This is an issue of fairness," Kahan said. "Right now,
the inmate is allowed five witnesses, so why shouldn't the victim? "Most
families would not want to witness it, but the option should be
available."
If those measures fail, Brown said, he would attempt to
reintroduce the bill in the next legislative session. He said he
doubts it can be resurrected this session.
The bill's biggest
supporters include Houstonians Randy Ertman and Melissa Pena, whose
daughters were raped and killed by a gang of youths, five of whom
are on death row. "I want to watch them die," Ertman said. "That's
the final chapter, and I can close the book."
He, among other
families, testified before the Legislature in support of the bill. "We
spent a lot of time going up there," he said. "It kicks your butt to
rehash all that in your head and to have it come down to politics of
whose bill to ignore."
Prison officials also testified before
committees, showing blueprints of wall dividers that could separate
inmates' witnesses from victims' witnesses, Ertman said.
During an interview in a hallway, Rodriguez said, "I'll say this,
and you may not like it, but the parents bear some responsibility,
too . . . the parents of the victims." "Those thugs did what they
chose to do," said Pam Lychner, president of Justice for All. "These
families and all crime victims' families deserve an apology."
Lychner said Rodriguez's comments were unprofessional, insensitive,
outrageous and unethical, and she has asked the State Bar of Texas
to see whether he should be reprimanded and possibly disbarred.
Rodriguez said he was talking about all parents' basic duty to raise
their children in a proper way and to know where they are. "The
parents are zero percent responsible for these crimes," he said. "The
defendants are." But Rodriguez added, "I don't think I have to make
a public apology."
He said his comments had been misrepresented and
he never used the words "contribute," "blame" or "death" when he
spoke about parental responsibility. He said he would be willing to
meet with the Ertman and Pena families privately to discuss the
incident.
As for a State Bar inquiry, Rodriguez said he felt
confident he would be vindicated, because "I've done nothing wrong."
Ertman and Pena were walking home through a park near midnight in
1993 when they were raped and murdered by six youths.
The first people
to take advantage of that law were Elizabeth and Vernon Harvey,
whose 18-year-old daughter was slain in 1980. "Until you are in that
position, you do not know how it feels. You really see how out of
balance the system is," Elizabeth Harvey said. "It is not something
that is taken lightly. It is a door you can open, or not open, but
you should have that choice."
She said the idea of observing the
execution emerged when her husband was interviewed by a reporter
after their daughter's body was discovered, eight days after she
disappeared from a nightclub where she had been in a fashion show.
"Somebody
asked my husband if he had the choice of a million dollars or seeing
him (Robert Lee Willie, the convicted killer) put to death, which
would he take," Harvey recalled. "He said they could keep the money."
Steve Hall, the director of administration at the
Texas Resource Center, a group that provides legal assistance for
indigent death row inmates, said authorizing families to observe
executions is an idea that is "ripe for problems."
Hall pointed to a
shouting and shoving match between families of Ertman and Pena and
the father of a defendant in the case after one of the killers was
sentenced this week. "The kind of display you saw in the courthouse,
there is some potential for that to happen at an execution," he said.
South Texas College of Law professor Neil McCabe said the effort to
authorize families to watch executions has a good chance of success.
"It is politics. The victims' rights groups have a lot of political
clout now," McCabe said.
In Louisiana, Harvey said she has no regrets about her decision. "I
kept being told that it was going to be so awful," she said. "His
death was not near what my daughter went through. He had his last
meal, his friends all around. I wish I could have said goodbye to my
daughter, served her her favorite meal. "I had to see that it was
really over," she said. "I had to know no one was going to hurt like
we do again."
District Attorney John B. Holmes Jr. said he
supports the victims' right but opposes the event being played out
before the cameras, which he said makes people behave differently.
"I am one of those old-fashioned guys," Holmes said. "I don't think
the proceedings should be made to be a spectacle. The proceedings in
the halls of justice are not meant for entertainment."
Until Randy
Ertman stood before the media floodlights earlier this year and
lambasted Peter Cantu, the 19-year-old leader of the gang that
savaged Ertman's daughter Jennifer, 16, and her friend Elizabeth
Pena, 14, many prosecutors and judges did not even know about the
law allowing victims to speak out.
Janie Wilson of Victims Organized To Ensure
Rights and Safety predicted the law will be used more as the public
become aware of it. "The victims' rights movement in Texas has shown
a lot of maturity on the whole."
The law specifically provides
victims a chance to address the court, not the defendants. Still,
despite admonishments from the judge, victims tend to aim their
remarks at the defendants.
To avoid situations similar to what
happened in the Ertman -Pena cases, state District Judge Jim Barr
said he would push to have victims write their statements before
delivery.
State District Judge Caprice Cosper
also wants to establish guidelines. "The law only gives us
parameters," she said. "I think the courts would hope this
particular statute would afford victims the chance to say what they
feel, but I think that everyone should always be mindful that this
is a courtroom and these are legal proceedings."
Dr. John P. Vincent,
a University of Houston psychology professor, said the law, despite
its pitfalls, affords what can be an important part of the healing
process for crime victims. "For many of these people, there is a
depth of rage that is beyond most of our comprehension," he said.
"Their
feelings and needs often get lost in the shuffle. "I think there are
instances where confronting the person that has caused you grief and
distress provides you some measure of relief," even if it is
indirect, he said. South Texas College Law Professor Neil McCabe
supports the practice but says an argument can be made against it as
a throwback to the Dark Ages.
Two
other gang members, Peter Cantu and Derrick Sean O'Brien, both 19,
were already sentenced to die in the case. Because of the high level
of emotion surrounding the case, and in the interest of avoiding
conflict, a request by the victims' parents to address the court in
the defendants' presence was postponed for 19 days to allow both
sides to cool down.
Texas law allows victims or their surviving
relatives to speak at sentencing. One of the criminal court's larger
courtrooms was chosen for the sentencing. The overflow crowd of
spectators consisted largely of crime victims who have supported the
girls' families.
State district Judges Caprice Cosper, Doug Shaver
and Ruben Guerrero occupied the bench and each judge sentenced a
youth to die by lethal injection for the slayings.
"When these killers are in the ground, our job
as parents is over with," he said tearfully. "For someone to destroy
two loving children is sick." Ertman also said, "You are worse than
spit. You belong in hell."
Sandra Ertman stood at his side holding a
plastic bag containing a watch and rings of Jennifer's still tagged
as police evidence.
Testimony showed gang members traded the items
among themselves and their girlfriends after stomping, kicking and
strangling the girls and leaving their bodies in woods off T.C.
Jester and W. 34th in northwest Houston. "I wish that these guys
could get executed the way they (the girls) did and be left there,
just left there on the ground to die," Adolph Pena said, challenging
the youths to look at him as he spoke.
Villareal kept his back to
Adolph Pena while Medellin turned to him periodically. Perez, eyes
rimmed with tears, looked at Pena often.
Afterward, the crowd spilled
outside the courtroom into the spotlights of television cameras. It
was then that the shouting broke out between families of the victims
and the killers.
Adolph Pena became angry after overhearing a
comment by Perez's stepfather, Ismael Castillo, about being insulted
by the comments made in court and suggesting that the girls' parents
also shared in the blame for the girls' deaths.
Finger-pointing led
to a brief, but intense, face-to-face confrontation. Randy Ertman
plunged into the fray and was held back by Adolph Pena while it
appeared Castillo raised a fist.
The huge crowd gathered in the
hallway outside the courtroom pressed into the pair, adding to the
chaos. Bailiffs quickly pushed the Perez family out a side door
while Ertman, Pena and their wives left via another route without
comment. Castillo's comments enraged many of the onlookers.
Prosecutor Johnny
Sutton concurred. "It's a sad day for them (the killers' parents) as
well, and I don't think it was their fault," Sutton said. "Those
boys made choices. There was time for them to have turned back."
The
outburst surprised no one given the intensity of anguish on all
sides of the case. Nearly every emotion the Ertmans and Penas have
had since the girls' bodies were discovered has been captured by the
media.
Randy Ertman's pained and angry rebuke to Cantu after he
received the death penalty was shown on television. A small band of
protesters who appeared to protest the death penalty caused an angry
exchange on the streets outside the courthouse.
Prosecutor Marie
Munier said the victim-impact law affords an important moment for
victims, allowing them to feel a part of the system they became a
bystander to by a cruel act of fate. "It's cleansing."
Public
imagination, at first only teased by news of their disappearance,
was stoked to an unbearable height by quickly revealed details of
their final moments. This does not happen.
Roving packs of young men
do not devour two unknown girls scurrying home to beat their curfew.
"There is a point where the inhumanity of it, the brutality of it,
just flows," said Don Smyth, an assistant district attorney.
That
point was reached three times last week, as Smyth and his colleagues
prosecuted the final three defendants in the case. Each received the
death penalty, as had two others before them.
The lone juvenile
involved had previously been sentenced to 40 years. His age saved
his life but not did not spare him from the duty of testifying again
and again about the savage rapes and awkward strangulations.
There was no logic here, no sense. In the primeval silence of the
woods by the bayou, there was only opportunity and attack.
ONE MIGHT like to think that the killings of Ertman and Pena,
which spawned more death sentences than any murder in recent
American history, began with a plan. If somehow the girls, however
innocent, stood between the design and execution of a great criminal
notion, then the talk can turn to fate.
Their deaths become less
threatening, if no less horrible. In truth, however, the sequence of
misbegotten events began out of nothing, a momentary impulse, an
innocuous request by a bored 17-year-old boy who lived with his
parents in a poor neighborhood on the near north side. It all
started with a quarter.
They chatted
briefly and Villareal went inside for a session of Streetfighter.
Perez was still there when he came back out.
The conversation
resumed, an invitation to drink some beer was extended, and soon
Villareal was at the home of a friend of Perez's, someone he did not
know named Joe Medellin who lived in a fraying subdivision out
toward Greenspoint.
They drank, smoked cigarettes and talked trash.
Villareal was invigorated. Another friend, Peter Cantu, showed up in
his red pickup and the trash talking heated up. Villareal said he
could take any of them on.
Cantu, the de facto leader of the group,
was not impressed by the newcomer despite the fact he was taller and
heavier than anyone else. "You talk too much sh-t," Cantu said. "Man,
I'll come to your house and rape your mom and then kill you."
Cantu could see him for what he was, a wannabe among
badasses, but if the sturdy new guy could manage to prove himself .
. .What happened next -- the rounding up of more guys, the so-called
initiation fight, the drinking, the unexpected arrival of two girls
taking a short-cut home, the frenzy of sexual assault and its segue
into murder -- have become details stored in Houston's collective
memory.
Again and again, with each trial or journalistic recount, we
heard Pena imploring her friend for help, heard them both plead for
their lives, heard the thud of fist against face and the final,
gagging sounds of their deaths. We saw Villareal prove himself in a
baptism of fire, no longer a wannabe.
DEATH PENALTY opponents constantly hold Houston up as a
jurisdiction where bloodlust has grown to extreme proportions. The
county sends more defendants to death row than most states, they
point out, and far more than any other Texas county. It can't be,
opponents argue, that simply more heinous murders are committed here
than elsewhere. "I absolutely think prosecutorial discretion is a
major factor," said Jordan Steiker, a University of Texas law
professor and death penalty specialist. "I think it (Harris County)
is known to have a zealous DA's office." Even so, even with the
unprecedented number of potential death penalties at stake, it took
nerve -- some would say gall -- for Jimmy Dunne and a half-dozen
other local death penalty opponents to show up in front of the
courthouse during the trials, demonstrating for an end to the "cycle
of killing." The young men whose lives they would spare could serve
as poster boys for the death penalty.
The protesters were quickly
surrounded by outraged relatives of the dead girls, friends of their
families and members of a local chapter of Parents of Murdered
Children. There was no pretense of civility. Substantially
outnumbered, the protesters were more decisively outshouted.
"Every
time you kill a murderer, it's good for society," yelled one. "We
want to be purged. We want the murderers out of our society,"
screamed another. "Your information does not match the look in
Elizabeth Pena's eyes," spit a third.
Upstairs on the third floor,
in the narrow hallways where families of victims and defendants
wordlessly passed each other for two weeks, a young man sat on a
windowsill and stared out toward the roofs of nearby buildings.
He was related to one of the defendants, and he was despondent, not
only at the likely resolution of events, but at the pointlessness of
all that had happened. "Understand it?" he said. "There's no way to
understand it. It is senseless."
He talked some more about the boys
who had committed the crime, now men in the eyes of the law, and
said it was not too surprising where they had ended up. Guys like
that, he said, were not made to succeed.
Asked about himself, he
allowed that he was married but had no children and never would have.
"Why would I bring children into this screwed up world?"
Vinson,
who prosecuted Medellin, credited the enthusiasm of all involved for
seeing it through successfully. Perez's prosecutor, Marie Munier,
held sentiments similar to Vinson's. Debruyn said that, although the
process was streamlined in these cases, "this is not streamlined
justice, it was just effective justice."
The brutal murder of the two girls, who were attacked
while taking a shortcut home to make a parental curfew, shocked city
residents. The victims' parents, who have attended all five trials,
have had to recount repeatedly to jurors how it felt to awaken and
find that their daughters had failed to return from a party. They
told of the panic that gave way to horror at the news that while
they were printing up fliers with the girls' pictures, police were
finding their battered and decomposing bodies in some woods off T.C.
Jester and West 34th in northwest Houston.
Perez also wept after the
sentence was heard. Melissa Pena, clutching a laminated white doily
with her daughter's picture in the center, said the end of the
trials brought no comfort to her. "Nothing will ever make me feel
good again," she said. "But we'll take it one day at a time." Adolph
Pena thanked his supporters and the jurors and prosecutors "who had
to go through all this. I know it was very difficult."
Randy Ertman
said all parents should learn from his pain that "if you have a
child, make sure you love them because they may not be there in the
morning." His wife, Sandra, said she takes solace in the knowledge
that "those terrorists and killers are off the streets. The city of
Houston can rest easier."
Likely accelerating the jury's decision to
impose the death penalty in Perez's case was his lengthy and violent
history. Testimony showed that he grew from schoolyard brawler to a
robber and murderer, having shot two people and killed a third.
Defense attorney Terry Gaiser said Perez was a follower who fell in
with the wrong crowd. Prosecutor Marie Munier called Perez "a
predatory animal, and Houston and Harris County was his roaming
ground."
September has been a month of record-setting
events in Harris County courts. Two weeks ago, an unprecedented six
juries in separate courts were preparing to hear death penalty
cases. This week, the 100th juvenile this year was certified to
stand trial as an adult. In addition to the three death sentences
handed down to the killers of the two teen-age girls, Lionell
Rodriguez, 23, was sentenced to die this week for shooting Tracy Gee,
22, at a Meyerland-area traffic light in September 1990.
Two other
defendants in separate cases narrowly escaped execution and were
sentenced to life in prison. Just as his trial was slated to begin,
Andy Douglas Baptiste, 24, pleaded guilty to capital murder for the
January 1993 slayings murders of a Baytown convenience store clerk
and a customer. And Edward John Benavides, 22, facing capital murder
charges for the slaying of a Pasadena SWAT officer, was convicted of
a lesser charge of murder.
District Attorney John B. Holmes Jr. said
he does not know whether the death penalty total is a record because
it is not the kind of statistic he tracks. "You don't brag about
things like this," he said gruffly. "I am turned off by that kind of
thing. I don't think it is appropriate."
Jurors in Shaver's court deliberated for 10 hours over
two days before determining that Villarreal should die. Rodriguez
said Villarreal's family was rocked by the decision. "One family
lessens their grief and the other's is increased," he said. "You
always have mixed feelings when a death sentence is handed down for
someone so young," said prosecutor Johnny Sutton. "But when you hear
all the facts in this case you know that this is the only punishment."
Jurors in state District Judge Ruben Guerrero's court will continue
hearing testimony in the punishment phase of Efrain Perez's trial
today. Much of the testimony has been about other shootings,
including a fatal one during a botched robbery, in which Perez is
alleged to have been involved prior to the girls' murders.
Prosecutors Marie Munier and Don Smyth are expected to ask jurors to
return a verdict of death for Perez, 18. The three trials were held
simultaneously over the past two weeks in an effort to save time and
money and to reduce the demands on witnesses.
The punishment phase of the
trials started Monday for all three defendants, but final arguments
by the prosecution and defense were heard only in Villarreal's and
Medellin's cases as witnesses were still being called in the Perez
hearing.
Among the witnesses called by prosecutor Marie Munier, who
was trying to show that Perez is a continuing threat to society, was
Jose Orellano, who was flown from California to testify before the
jury in state District Judge Ruben Guerrero's court.
Orellano, who
was wounded in a botched robbery in which Jose Adiel Acosta was shot
to death in December 1992, identified Perez as the triggerman in
what until Tuesday was an unsolved murder. Orellano testified that
he and Acosta were shot by Perez as they arrived at a Houston
apartment complex for a wedding.
In state District Judge Doug
Shaver's court, prosecutor Kelly Siegler urged jurors to return a
death sentence for Villarreal, 18, who she said has shown no remorse
for his role in the rapes and strangulations of Ertman and Pena. He
does not deserve to have the right to live among us ever again," she
said.
Defense attorney Ricardo Rodriguez reminded the jury that
assessing the death penalty will not bring the murdered girls back.
"This is not an eye for an eye or a life for a life," he said.
Rodriguez said that the prosecution did not present any evidence
that Villarreal posed a future threat to society and asked the
jurors to sentence him to life in prison. "I am asking you to have
some compassion," he said.
The girls
had left a party and took a shortcut near T.C. Jester and West 34th
to get home by curfew. They were grabbed by the five teens, raped
and then strangled. Their bodies were found four days later. In
state District Judge Caprice Cosper's courtroom, defense attorney
Jack Millin reminded the jury that giving Medellin the death penalty
will not restore life to the victims. "What you have here is a
chance for saving a life," Millin said.
However, prosecutor Terry
Wilson told the jury that Medellin has a long history of violence
and that he would be a threat to society if he were not sentenced to
death. "This crime was every parent's nightmare. That nightmare has
a face, and there he is," Wilson said, pointing to Medellin.
On
Monday, jurors in state District Judge Doug Shaver's court heard
from a series of witnesses who said Villarreal showed no signs of
violence before the girls were killed. In separate courtrooms before
state District Judges Caprice Cosper and Ruben Guerrero, witnesses
testified of violent episodes involving Perez and Medellin, one
involving a gang-related shooting and the other a shooting during a
robbery attempt.
Villarreal, 18, was the reason Perez, 18, Medellin,
19, Peter Cantu, 19, and Derrick Sean O'Brien, 19, were together the
night of June 24, 1993. The youths got together for a night of
drinking and planned to test Villarreal's mettle before letting him
join their gang. Shortly after they finished taking turns fighting
the initiate, Ertman, 14, and Pena, 16, walked past.
The girls had
left a party and took a shortcut near T.C. Jester and West 34th to
get home by curfew. After a search by their parents, police followed
up on a tip and found the girls' battered bodies. They had been gang-raped
and strangled. Cantu and O'Brien were convicted in earlier trials
and already are on death row.
On Monday, jurors in Cosper's court
were told that Medellin and Perez showed contempt for authority in
the wake of a gang-related shooting shortly before the Ertman-Pena
slayings. Witnesses testified that the two said "they could take
care of it themselves" rather than let police handle the shooting
incident.
Also, a Harris County Jail deputy testified that he
removed an L-shaped shank from Medellin's mattress Monday morning.
One end of the metal bracket had been sharpened. Defense attorney
Jack Millin suggested that the homemade weapon had been in the
mattress before Medellin occupied the cell.
The youth was shot as he fled and
was hospitalized for a week with chest and shoulder wounds.
Prosecutors said they plan to ask the juries in the cases to
sentence Villarreal, Perez and Medellin to death.
Prosecutors now will prepare to push for the death penalty
for the trio. The punishment phase is scheduled to begin Monday for
all three. Peter Cantu, 19, and Derrick Sean O'Brien, 19, were
handed death penalties after being convicted earlier this year for
their roles in the slayings of Jennifer Ertman, 14, and Elizabeth
Pena, 16.
Venancio Medellin, Joe's younger brother, received a 40-year
sentence in the juvenile system for aggravated sexual assault.
Ertman and Pena had left a party and were taking a shortcut home
June 24, 1993, when they crossed paths with the six youths engaged
in a drunken gang initiation rite.
The girls were repeatedly raped
before being strangled and stomped to death. Joe Medellin was said
to have been the first to grab one of the girls when they spotted
them near railroad tracks at T.C. Jester and West 34th. Prosecutor
Mark Vinson likened the group to "a pack of wolves" and said the
actions brought "a darkness about this city."
The elder Medellin --
who trembled with tears a day earlier when his brother was sentenced
to six months in jail for refusing to testify against him as he had
against the others -- showed no visible reaction to the verdict.
Adolph Pena and Randy Ertman each leaned over and kissed their wives,
Melissa Pena and Sandra Ertman.
In an effort to ease some of the
stress on witnesses and victims' families, and to save money and
time, state District Judges Cosper, Ruben Guerrero and Doug Shaver
agreed to the unprecedented step of conducting the defendants'
trials simultaneously. Witnesses have been shuttled from court to
court on the same floor with seeming success, but the Ertmans and
Penas were forced to split up so as to hear something from all of
the trials.
The three linked arms, creating a
barrier between Carlson and passers-by, pinning him next to a
garbage can and against a wall. "This is the wrong time for you to
be here, man," Randy Ertman said. "I think it is a matter of opinion,"
said Carlson, who added that he came to the courthouse because he
knew the city's media would be there for the trials.
An increasingly
tearful and impassioned crowd, consisting largely of people who have
had loved ones murdered, surrounded Carlson as he moved away from
the three men. They accused Carlson of being insensitive. But
Carlson, whose sister Deborah Thornton was one of death row inmate
Karla Faye Tucker's victims, stood his ground, saying, "There is no
right or wrong place."
Protest planner Jimmy Dunne, head of the
Death Penalty Education Center, finally arrived with one other
protester, an anti-death penalty attorney with her children, ages 9
and 7, in tow and carrying hand-made signs. Dunne struggled to be
heard, especially after a motorcycle rider with opposing views
revved his bike to drown him out. Dunne said he feels compassion for
the families but cannot condone death. "We don't want to do the same
thing the killers do."
He denied being insensitive, saying he chose
to make his platform there because it was a perfect example of "assembly
line justice." "An eye for an eye leaves us all blind," Dunne said,
raising the ire of the crowd, mostly from Justice for All and
Parents of Murdered Children. "Have you been to the morgue? Do you
have a daughter? You are not a victim! How dare you!" were some of
the shouts.
Joe Medellin's brother, Jose, stepped up and took a sign from Dunne.
Someone from the crowd asked if he would be there holding a sign if
he had not had a relative facing death. "I don't know," he said
coolly. "I am holding it now." Jeanne Bayley, whose stepson Robbie
was murdered in Bear Creek Park last September, gave this analogy to
justify death for someone guilty of a murder: "Do you teach a pit
bull to bite? No, But once they taste blood, you have to put them to
sleep."
Peter Cantu and Derrick Sean
O'Brien, both 19, are already on death row for their roles in the
killings. In an experiment designed to save money, time and stress
for the victims' families and witnesses, the state set the three
remaining defendants' cases to run simultaneously and separately
this week. Ironically, the last to start was the first to finish,
with jurors in state District Judge Doug Shaver's court convicting
Villareal in about three hours.
His trial began Tuesday with Sandra
Ertman's emotional testimony about her "sensitive, modest,
compassionate and childlike" only child. She recounted the agony of
waking to find that her reliable daughter had failed to come home
from a party the night before. She described the outfit her daughter
wore the last time she saw her -- baggy jeans, purple high-tops and
a shirt her father bought her for graduation.
The items, soiled and
torn, were shown the jury by prosecutors Johnny Sutton and Kelly
Siegler. Ertman detailed the copious amounts of jewelry her 14-year-old
daughter insisted on wearing -- two gold chains, several rings and a
Goofy watch -- that were later shared among the gang members, "like
trophies of their night," Sutton said.
The young men were together
that night to initiate Villareal into their gang -- if he could
withstand the customary pummeling of initiates. They gathered near
railroad tracks off T.C. Jester and West 34th to drink and take
turns beating Villareal. Ertman and Pena, 16, anxious to make curfew,
cut across the youths' paths and were repeatedly raped before being
strangled, kicked and stomped to death.
Perez,
whose case began in state District Judge Ruben Guerrero's court on
Monday, stared at the defense table, bracing himself with
outstretched arms and trembled, occasionally swiping a sleeve across
his tear-filled eyes.
The jury returned a guilty verdict against him in about 90
minutes. Prosecutor Marie Munier said she will spend the next three
days preparing for the punishment phase. Pivotal to the state up to
now has been the testimony of Venancio Medellin, 15, who pleaded
guilty in the killings and was sentenced to 40 years in juvenile
lockup. But he balked at testifying against his brother, Joe, being
tried in state District Judge Caprice Cosper's court.
Venancio's
attorney, Esmeralda Pena Garcia, said she told prosecutors he would
cooperate in every case except his brother's. "He said he wanted no
part in the case in which the state was seeking to kill his brother,"
Garcia said. Prosecutor Terry Wilson angrily denied having made any
such arrangement, and as Joe Medellin sobbed and quivered -- his
first public display of emotion in his trial -- an obviously
irritated Cosper sentenced Venancio Medellin to six months in jail,
to be served after his juvenile term is complete. Prosecutor Mark
Vinson said closing arguments would be held today. If Joe Medellin
is convicted, the punishment phase in all three trials will begin
Monday, with the death penalty being sought in all three.
The trials have been running smoothly, with many participants
expressing relief at getting their roles completed at one time.
Peter Anthony Cantu and Derrick Sean O'Brien, both
19, already have been sentenced to die, and a juvenile, Medellin's
brother, Venancio, was given a 40-year sentence. The state is
seeking the death penalty for the remaining three. Holding the
trials at the same time is being done to make it easier for
witnesses and to save court costs. "There have not been any problems
yet. There have been no stoppages due to delayed witnesses or any
evidence not being available," said court coordinator Joseph DeBruyn.
However, the decision to try all three defendants at the same time
in different courtrooms was criticized by Andrew Kahan of the city's
Crime Victims Division. "It's a problem for the family members
because they want to be in the court for all the testimony, and they
can't be in all three places at the same time," Kahan said. "But we
will just have to make the best of it. They are shuffling from one
place to another. The positive aspect of this is that in a few weeks,
if everything goes as scheduled, this will all be over for them."
In testimony in state District Judge Ruben Guerrero's court,
where Perez is being tried, the defense moved for a mistrial after a
witness mentioned that the defendants had talked of committing other
crimes.
By coincidence, three
other capital murder trials also began Monday, a fact that certainly
will underscore Houston's growing reputation as a center for death-penalty
convictions. Holding the simultaneous trials in the deaths of
Jennifer Ertman, 14, and Elizabeth Pena, 16, is being done to make
it easier for witnesses and the victims' parents and to save money.
Peter Anthony Cantu and Derrick Sean O'Brien have already been
sentenced to die, and a juvenile -- Medellin's brother, Venancio --
was given a 40-year sentence. The state is seeking the death penalty
for the remaining three. So far, the tricky matter of coordinating
witnesses and evidence has not proved a problem. "We thought it
would be, but apparently it's not," said state District Judge Ruben
Guerrero, presiding over Perez's trial. "The biggest problem is with
the physical evidence."
Because the same physical evidence must be
used in all three trials, it is being kept in a central room. After
the evidence is introduced, a photo of it is substituted and the
item returned for use elsewhere. The order of witnesses is slightly
different in each trial to eliminate delays. Because different
officers interrogated each defendant, many of the witnesses do not
overlap.
Christina Cantu,
Joe's wife, testified in Perez's trial that the group of young men,
minus O'Brien and Venancio Medellin, showed up at their house in the
middle of the night and gradually revealed their crime, often
laughing about it. "I kept walking out of the room," she said. "I
know what those girls went through. I was crying." She said Perez
admitted holding one end of the shoelaces used to strangle Pena.
In Joe Medellin's trial, Roman Sandoval, one of two gang members who
left when the girls were grabbed, testified he saw Medellin knock
Pena down on the tracks. She cried out for Ertman to help her, he
said, and her friend came running back. Eventually, Sandoval said,
all except his brother, Frank, disappeared down the other side of
the tracks. "I told the others, "Let's go, let's get out of here,' "
Sandoval said. "But there was no reply."
Already on death row for the girls' deaths are Peter Cantu,
19, and Derrick Sean O'Brien, 19. When the trials of Medellin, 19,
Perez, 18, and Villareal, 18, begin, a total of six capital murder
trials -- the most ever at one time -- will be under way at the
Harris County Criminal Courthouse.
Three other defendants also go to
trial this week on capital murder charges in unrelated cases. Late
last week, jurors in state District Judge Michael McSpadden's court
began hearing the case of Edward Benavides, a 22-year-old grocery
sacker and suspected drug dealer who fatally shot Pasadena SWAT
officer Les Early, 28, during a drug raid at Benavides' home, 5526
Robertson.
Also scheduled for trial this week is Lionel Rodriguez,
23, whose earlier capital murder conviction was overturned on a
technicality. Rodriguez is accused of shooting Tracy Gee, 22, to
steal her car because his vehicle was running low on fuel. Rodriguez
was sentenced to die for the September 1990 murder of Gee, who was
fatally shot at a Meyerland-area stop light. Her body was dumped
into the street and her killer drove away in her car.
Also going to
trial early this week on capital murder charges is Andy Douglas
Baptiste, 24, one of five people accused in the execution-style
slayings of convenience store clerk Lanorah June Tetzman of Baytown
and store customer Todd Ray Thompson of Pittsburg, Texas. Today,
state district judges Ruben Guerrero, Caprice Cosper and Doug Shaver
will undertake the unprecedented step of trying three defendants at
the same time on the same floor of the courthouse.
Perez's attorneys have filed a change-of-venue request with
Judge Guerrero, who will continue to hear arguments on the issue
Wednesday. Defense attorney Jerry Guerinot, who represents
Villarreal, said that if the trials remain in Houston, he does not
believe the defendants can get a fair trial. "The real concern is
publicity," Guerinot said. "I'm sure the media will be there in
droves. If I were a judge, I would move the trial. I think what they
are doing is compromising any chances that they will get a fair
trial."
Prosecutor Mark Vinson, who will handle the case against
Medellin, said that "publicity is not that big of an issue." "The
issue is, can you get 12 fair citizens who have not formed an
opinion one way or another that can hear this case and return a
verdict based on the law and based on the evidence," Vinson said.
Five adults and a juvenile have been charged in connection with the
slayings of Pena and Ertman. Their bodies were found days after they
stumbled onto a drunken gang initiation near T.C. Jester and West
34th.
Ringleader Peter Cantu, 19, and Derrick Sean O'Brien, 19, are
now on death row. A juvenile was sentenced to 40 years in juvenile
custody. State District Judges Bill Harmon and Bob Burdette, who
presided over those cases, were not persuaded to move those trials
outside Harris County because of the publicity.
The man who committed the crime served five
years in prison. Pollard is a registered nurse but is unable to get
a job, she said, because of her scars. "The people that interview me
say, "How would patients deal with your appearance?' We do not live
in a caring society. It's hard to compete when you're abnormal." She
believes, as do other victims of crime, that the new commission will
help. "Maybe, if enough victims fight, make noise, let the
government know we're here, people will listen," she said. One of
the first items on the agenda of the organization is to fight the
early release of Texas inmates.
A year ago last Friday, the two girls were raped and strangled near
the park as they were walking home. The butterfly on Pena's finger
and 49 others were released during the service as a symbolic gesture,
said Dianne Clements, a family friend who organized the service. "The
butterflies are free; they are not earthbound," she said. The 50
butterflies were donated by breeder Hoa Chua.
An estimated 200
people gathered under two large trees near the back edge of the
northwest Houston park. Under one of the trees, two white crosses
had been erected. They were surrounded by dozens of flowers and the
girls' pictures. During the service, Earl Hatcher, a neighbor and
friend of the Ertman family, spoke on the family's behalf. He said
the family had not dwelled on hatred and self-pity and wanted to
thank everyone for their diligence, compassion and support.
He said
he and Sandra Ertman wrote the remarks for the service. And Sandra
Ertman selected the poem "I'm Free" to be read on her daughter's
behalf. Elizabeth Pena's aunt, Patti Zapalac, spoke on her family's
behalf. She read a brief poem. "I think it's an absolutely amazing
tribute to the girls that people continue to come to this park day
after day," said Zapalac after the service. As Jane Vandiver sang
her rendition of Eric Clapton's Grammy-award winning song "Tears in
Heaven," many in the crowd wiped away tears.
Anytime a request comes in, he said, the
department has to investigate whether the park land was donated to
the city with a covenant attached to it. If no covenant is found, a
notice will be posted for 45 days in the park asking residents to
offer their opinions about a name change. Then the parks department
will deliver a recommendation to the City Council. But during the
entire process, Smith said, "The position of the department is
neutral."
Now, she still cries, but not every day. "What
you do, like an alcoholic, is take it one day at a time," she said.
"You just never know when you wake up in the morning what kind of
day you will have." The families have also coped by working with
victims' rights groups and with children. They believe their
daughters would have approved.
The murders outraged the city and
generated extensive press coverage. Strangers grieved with the
families. Harris County prosecutor Steve Baldassano said he has
never worked on a case that received so much publicity. It was, he
said, his toughest case of the year. "I remember driving down Kirby
and I was doing my final argument in the car and I was really choked
up," he said. Baldassano said the case wasn't hard to prove because
of the facts, but it was hard to deal with the attention it drew. "They
were girls who had nothing to do with anything, but were just late
for curfew," he said. "They weren't in a gang, they weren't shooting
up drugs."
The girls were gang-raped, kicked, stomped and finally
strangled with a shoelace and O'Brien's red nylon belt. Nan Gurski
of the group Parents of Murdered Children sat with the families
during the trials and will sit with them when they resume in July.
Gurski thinks the case has received so much attention in the past
year because the public can relate to the parents' fears.
After receiving a
legal opinion on the matter, the Parks and Recreation Department has
approved the request by Randy Ertman, the father of one of the girls,
said Susan Christian, assistant parks director. Ertman asked the
city if two homemade crosses could be placed in the park Friday in
memory of his daughter Jennifer, 14, and her friend Elizabeth Pena,
16. The two girls were killed a year ago Friday as they were walking
home from a party.
City Attorney Benjamin L. Hall III concluded that
there is no law permitting or prohibiting such memorials on city
property. However, Don Sanders, a Houston atheist activist, said the
erection of the crosses on public property violates the principle of
separation of church and state, and said he will go to court if
necessary to prevent it. The crosses were made by the victims'
friends at Waltrip High School. "I think it's a beautiful gesture on
the part of the kids," Ertman said.
A memorial service is planned
for 1 p.m. Saturday at the site. Ertman said the city has offered to
supply the public address system for the short service. Six youths
were charged in the murders of Pena and Ertman. Two have been
sentenced to death and a juvenile was sentenced to 40 years. The
others are waiting for trial.
Hall's response was there are no existing laws permitting
or prohibiting the erection of such memorials on city property, and
city officials plan to move ahead with the project. "You'd have to
be a blithering idiot to stand in the way of something like that,"
said Dave Walden, chief of staff to Mayor Bob Lanier. "As long as
it's legal and we can justify it, anyone can sue if they want to."
The girls, Jennifer Ertman, 14, and Elizabeth Pena, 16, were raped
and strangled near the park as they were walking home in northwest
Houston the night of June 24, 1993. Six youths were charged in their
murders. Two have been sentenced to death; a juvenile was sentenced
to 40 years and the others await trial. Ertman's father is to meet
with city officials today to discuss plans for the installation of
the crosses. Elizabeth Pena's birthday was Tuesday.
Ertman was
quoted as saying he did not understand the city's slowness in
responding to his request. "The possible confusion may derive from
the fact I had to get guidance from the Legal Department," Smith
said Tuesday night. "I've gotten guidance on that, and we can make
the decision to do that. Part of the confusion may also come from
that I was ill today (Tuesday) and didn't take his (Ertman's) call.
We have a lot of empathy with those families and we want to show our
concern with their situation. I'm a parent, too. Even though those
two awful murders didn't occur in that park, I believe it's a good
idea (to erect a memorial)."
The late County Commissioner Bob Eckels
once erected a Christian cross in the county's Bear Creek Park,
sparking protests by the American Civil Liberties Union. Its claim
that the cross violated the constitutional separation of church and
state forced Eckels to remove the cross.
The families of the girls occupied the front row throughout
the trial and Saturday their supporters occupied three of the five
rows in State District Judge Bob Burdette's courtroom. New among
them were relatives of Patricia Lopez, whom the state said died by
O'Brien's hand six months before the girls' bodies were found. As
many in the crowd embraced in celebration of the verdict, Cathy
Lopez and her family sobbed in relief.
Peter Anthony Cantu, 19, is
already on death row as the leader of the gang that savaged Ertman,
14, and Pena, 16. Cantu, O'Brien, Jose Ernesto Medellin, 19, Raul
Omar Villarreal, 18, Efrain Perez, 18, and Vinny Medellin, 14, were
gathered June 24 in a clearing off T.C. Jester and West 34th Street,
drinking beer and taking turns pummeling an initiate into their gang
when the girls happened past while taking a shortcut home.
The girls
were gang raped, kicked, stomped and finally strangled to death with
the two things the young men had handy -- a shoelace and O'Brien's
red nylon belt. There was little going for O'Brien when the state
began laying out its case. Witnesses said O'Brien raped the girls
before handing over his belt to help strangle them, straining and
grunting as he pulled one end of it to choke the life from a
flailing Ertman.
Alicia Siros, 17, testified that O'Brien and classmate Cantu were among a group of
boys who dragged her off of a swing set and around a park. Outside
of school, O'Brien continued his drinking and sometimes drugging and
passed the time bouncing around in stolen cars -- at least 45 of
them before his arrest last July.
He threatened to kill his
girlfriend when she tried to break up with him. But the most damning
evidence to be presented against O'Brien was coming to light behind
the scenes of the trial. Joe Cantu, whose tip that his brother and
his friends had bragged about the Ertman and Pena slayings led to
arrests in that case, called authorities again and told them O'Brien
had bragged of another murder.
Prosecutor Steve Baldassano said they
knew little when they turned to Houston police Officer Todd Miller
and asked him to search for the case. The case that emerged was that
of Patricia Lopez, 27, who was found with her throat and abdomen
slashed open, her clothes torn off and scattered about a northeast
Houston park.
When confronted in jail recently, O'Brien admitted
that he, Cantu and Medellin bought Lopez gasoline in exchange for
beer. A friend of O'Brien's testified that O'Brien told him that he
had ordered Lopez to give him oral sex or die and that he killed her
when she failed to arouse him.
Williams and co-defense
counsel Steven Greenlee maintained their client used the gang to
fulfill insecurities he felt after a disrupted childhood, an abusive
stepfather and oft-absent mother. Greenlee said O'Brien has been
prepared for the sentence. "He told me he would prefer they would
give him death because he couldn't spend 35 years in prison."
O'Brien,
Peter Anthony Cantu, Jose Ernesto Medellin, all 19; Raul Omar
Villarreal, 18; Efrain Perez, 18; and Vinny Medellin, 14, were all
charged in the girls' slayings. Cantu was sentenced to die last
February for leading the group from a drunken night of gang
initiation into the gang rape and stranglings of the girls who took
a shortcut home from a party on June 24. Their brutalized bodies
were found in a clearing off T.C. Jester and West 34th Street.
The
Medellin's middle brother, 17, also named Jose, testified that
O'Brien, Cantu and brother Jose Medellin were gathered at Cantu's
home early last year when Cantu said that "Sean O'Brien had killed
this girl some days ago and that Sean had tried to rape her and he
couldn't so he killed her." Medellin said he was skeptical until
O'Brien chimed in saying he forced her instead to have oral sex and
told her if he could not be aroused he would kill her.
The woman,
who was found stabbed to death in a northeast Houston park on Jan.
4, was later identified as Patricia Lopez, 27. Houston police crime
scene investigator K.H. Webb told of finding a Budweiser beer can
under Lopez' body. A fingerprint expert testified that a print from
the can matched O'Brien's right ring finger. O'Brien, who has not
been charged with Lopez' murder, has given a statement to police
placing him with Jose Medellin and Cantu. Closing arguments are
scheduled for today. Jurors will be deciding whether to give O'Brien
death or life in prison.
Detective Miller said once in custody, O'Brien led him to
his apartment where he produced the large piece of the belt. Judge
Bob Burdette has ordered the jury in this case sequestered after
having dismissed a juror who admitted he discussed the case against
O'Brien with a friend.
The friend apparently alerted the juror to
news reports that O'Brien was being investigated in connection with
the murder of another woman. Search warrants were served last week
seeking blood and tissue samples from Cantu, O'Brien and Jose "Joe"
Medellin, Vinny's 19-year-old brother, in an effort to link them to
the rape, stabbing and strangulation of Lourdes Patricia Lopez.
The
27-year-old mother of two was found in the 400 block of Carby in
northeast Houston Jan. 4, 1993. Efrain Perez, 18, Medellin, 19, and
Villarreal are awaiting trial for capital murder in the Ertman-Pena
case. All of the defendants face the death penalty.
The friend apparently alerted the
juror to news reports that O'Brien was being investigated in
connection with the murder of another woman. To allow jurors time to
pack enough clothes to last to Saturday, Burdette scheduled
testimony in the case to begin today.
O'Brien is accused of
participating in last summer's murders of Jennifer Ertman, 14, and
Elizabeth Pena, 16. Assistant Harris County District Attorney Steve
Baldassano told jurors how Ertman and Pena were at a pool party the
night of June 24, while a mile away, O'Brien and his companions
prepared to initiate a new member into their gang. The beer drinking
and fist fights included in the initiation were under way as the
girls were preparing to take a shortcut across railroad tracks near
T.C. Jester and West 34th in northwest Houston to be home by curfew,
Baldassano told jurors.
The girls were grabbed as they attempted to
walk past the group. The defense declined to make an opening
statement. In February, Peter Anthony Cantu, believed to have been
the gang leader, was convicted of capital murder and sentenced to
death for the rape-murder of the two girls. Capital murder is
defined as a killing that has occurred in the course of another
felony.
He testified for the prosecution in
Cantu's case and is expected to do the same in O'Brien. Defense
attorneys have said O'Brien had a troubled childhood and that he has
shown remorse since the Ertman-Pena killings as evidenced by two
suicide attempts in jail. Search warrants were served last week for
blood and tissue samples from Cantu, O'Brien and Medellin in an
effort to link them to the rape, stabbing and strangulation of
Lourdes Patricia Lopez.
The body of the 27-year-old mother of two
was found in the 400 block of Carby in northeast Houston Jan. 4,
1993. Defense attorney Connie Williams said he believed the
publicity so close to the start of the trial tainted the jury and
asked Burdette to dismiss the panel. Burdette agreed to poll the
jury about what members may have read about the case after the one
juror admitted he knew about the other killing, and was dismissed
from the panel.
Two years later, there is
renewed interest in the death of Patricia Lopez, who police now
believe may have been a victim of young gangsters now facing capital
murder charges in the highly publicized murders of two teen-age
girls last summer.
Peter Anthony Cantu, Jose "Joe" Medellin, and
Derrick Sean O'Brien, all 19 and all accused in the brutal 1993
rape-slayings of 16-year-old Elizabeth Pena and 14-year-old Jennifer
Lee Ertman, are now suspects in the earlier death of Lopez. Pena and
Ertman were killed June 24 when they stumbled across an initiation
rite being conducted by the Black and White Gang, a small group led
by Cantu.
Cantu is on death row, convicted and sentenced in February
for his role in the two deaths. O'Brien and Medellin both await
trial on charges of capital murder. The gang members were arrested
after Joe Adam Cantu, Peter's older brother and a former Black and
White Gang member disgusted by his little brother's violence, tipped
police.
Patricia was last seen on
Dec. 31, 1992, when she went by her mother-in-law's house in the
1100 block of Warwick to see her estranged husband, Joe Lopez, and
their two children. "The kids weren't here," said Joe's mother,
Cathy. "She left crying, because she wanted to see them so."
Patricia's son and daughter, now 10 and 11, would never see their
mother again. Early in the morning of Jan. 4, 1993, a Houston patrol
officer checking Melrose Park in the 1000 block of Canino found
Patricia's body, naked from the waist down, in a back parking lot.
She'd been raped, then stabbed repeatedly.
As soon as they heard,
Joe and Cathy went to the park, just down the street from their
house. "There was so much blood," Cathy said. "Blood on the ground,
on a post to keep cars out. And beer cans, Budweiser, all over, like
a big party." When Joe Lopez went downtown with detectives afterward,
Cathy said, "He had no idea they would think he had done it. They
kept him for hours, and the kids were so upset and needed him here.
"And then, after that, we kept in touch with the police for a while,
but there just didn't seem to be any clues."
Cathy Lopez was shocked
to learn that police suspected the trio in Patricia's death: "Oh my
God, Cantu? That animal?" Still, she said, it would be a blessing to
have the case resolved. "We always felt more than one person killed
her," said Cathy Lopez. "She was very strong.
Cathy Lopez said
most of Patricia's problems stemmed from her use of drugs, "but she
could be a sweet person when she wasn't using them. She liked to do
things for people. She wanted to be liked. "And what it comes down
to is, nobody deserves what she and those other girls got, do they?"
Prosecutors would not comment on the
latest developments. The case against the young gang members has
gotten a lion's share of publicity both locally and on national
tabloid television shows since the bodies of Ertman and Pena were
discovered last summer.
Cantu, who reportedly led the brutal attack
on the girls, was convicted last month and sentenced to die for his
part in the rape-murders. The case continued to get attention after
its conclusion when the judge allowed Ertman's emotional father to
shout his disdain for Cantu in front of rolling news cameras and
reporters.
The continued publicity resulted in repeated requests for
changes of venue, repeatedly denied for O'Brien and the others --
Medellin, 19, Raul Villareal, 18, and Efrain Perez, 18 -- facing
death in the case. A total of 212 potential jurors were interviewed
for O'Brien's trial in recent weeks, the majority of whom had heard
of the case, Williams said.
But despite defense contentions that an
unbiased jury could not be found, 12 jurors and an alternate was
impaneled and the case was set for opening arguments Monday.
Williams said the recent turn of events likely tainted the jury.
Clearly exasperated, Williams said: "I don't know where it leaves us."
Other sources who
asked not to be named said the tip was being treated very seriously.
They declined to say why, other than pointing out that it was a
telephone tip that solved the Ertman-Pena case last year. That
telephone tip came from Joe Adam Cantu, Peter's 21-year-old brother
and a member of the same gang.
When making that call, Joe Adam Cantu
called himself Gonzalez and told police where to find the bodies of
the two girls, who had been missing four days. Police traced the
call to the Cantu apartment in the 1100 block of Ashland. The elder
Cantu eventually implicated his brother and the other gang members
and testified at his brother's trial.
The motive for that call
apparently was disgust, police said. Testimony in Peter Cantu's
trial indicated he and other gang members went to the Ashland
apartment after Ertman and Pena were killed and gloated about the
deaths in front of the elder Cantu and his young wife.
One source
told the Chronicle the caller who tipped police to the trio's
possible involvement in the previous case apparently waited to be
reasonably certain the three would not be freed soon out of fear of
retaliation. Another source familiar with the case said the search
warrants probably would be executed today.
This newspaper
sympathizes with the natural emotions of Ertman in wanting to
confront the man convicted of murdering his daughter. But the scene
had no place in a courtroom. Such theater is damaging to the
judicial atmosphere and to the judicial system.
The Texas Code of
Criminal Procedures has been altered to allow families of crime
victims to tell judges about the effect on them of the crimes, and
what they think of the accused. But the revised code says nothing
about the right of family members to call defendants names in open
court. What impact, if any, this confrontation will play in Cantu's
appeal or what effect it may have on the trials of the four other
defendants in this case is unclear. Several judges were shocked by
Harmon's action and have expressed concerns about the pending trials.
Apparently, there will be a renewed effort to move one or more of
the trials out of Harris County. If granted, such moves could result
in delays and additional costs to taxpayers. Courts have no real way
of controlling possible outside influences in criminal cases, but
they do not need to add to such outside influences. Judge Harmon's
decision to permit this confrontation does not help.
Defendant Raul Omar Villarreal's attorney, Ricardo
Rodriguez, also previously denied a change of venue for his client,
agreed with Greenlee that his chances for getting the trial moved
have improved. "We intend to do the same thing (request moving the
trial), more than likely," he said. "Of course we are not at all
pleased with the way that Judge Harmon handled the situation,"
Rodriguez said, but the result has given him "a stronger reason to
re-urge" the move.
But after thinking
about it for a moment, she added: "We're telling the man (Ertman) in
court all those horrible things that happened to his daughter, and
then we're backing up and being shocked by his language. "I guess
it's not even proper to tell him to use proper language. Anybody
would be angry in those circumstances." Timmons added that it made
her feel much better when she was able to tell off the man who
killed her son in a drunken-driving manslaughter case.
Shaver
earlier turned down motions to move the trials for four of Cantu's
co-defendants out of the county, and now he's worried that he may
have to conduct another hearing because of the massive burst of
publicity evoked by the dramatic conclusion to the Cantu trial. When
co-defendant Raul Villarreal, 19, goes on trial in Shaver's court
for the June 24 gang rape and strangulation killings of Jennifer
Ertman, 14, and Elizabeth Pena, 16, Shaver said he'll allow no
repeat of the finale Harmon sanctioned.
State District Judge Bob
Burdette clearly was not happy to have such a widely publicized
emotional display just before he starts jury selection on the
capital murder case of Cantu co-defendant Derrick Sean O'Brien, 19,
on Feb. 28. "If it has an effect at all," Burdette said, "it can't
be anything but detrimental." Defense attorney Jim Skelton accused
Harmon of "exploiting an unspeakable tragedy" for his own gain via
media coverage.
A reading of Chapter 56 in the code
lists numerous ways crime victim's can tell courts -- meaning judges,
not defendants personally -- about the impact of crimes on them and
what they think about the accused. But the code says nothing about
giving unhappy fathers the right to call defendants names in open
court. Poe does favor altering court procedures to give victims more
say about the crimes and their impact. "Victims were victimized by
the system for years," Poe said. "They were kept out of the
courtroom, but now they have the right to be informed and know about
their cases."
That
cry was answered, in part, by the death sentence imposed Wednesday
on Peter Anthony Cantu, 19, leader of the gang. "They were so young,
and the way they were murdered -- it was like the "Texas Chainsaw
Massacre" in reality," said Andy Kahan, Houston Mayor Bob Lanier's
director for victims' rights. "It was a slow torturous death. They
had to undergo that treatment for more than an hour and were left to
rot." Ertman and Pena died because they took an ill-advised short
cut to beat a midnight curfew.
Nan Gurski, a past president of the
local chapter of Parents of Murdered Children, wonders what hope
there is if children have to pay the ultimate penalty for such a
little mistake. "What does any parent have to give his child to
protect them when somebody else makes a conscious decision (to hurt
them)?" she said.
Coincidentally, the death sentence against Cantu
in this case was imposed on the same evening Rex Mays confessed to
another incident that captured our attention the year before, the
vicious slayings of two young girls in northwest Harris County.
The
murders of 7-year-old Kynara Carreiro and 10-year-old Kristin Wiley
in their northwest Harris County neighborhood were the talk of
Houston in the summer of 1992, much as the Pena-Ertman killings were
a year later. Kynara's father, Bob Carreiro, befriended Ertman's
father and sat through much of Cantu's trial.
It was a
multiple murder with a sexual angle. It involved innocents set upon
by palpable evil. And it heightened a contemporary fear -- youth
gangs -- by turning them into wolf packs eager to attack given the
slightest opportunity, and against whom there is little defense. The
Carreiro-Wiley case also heightened fear.
The fact that the killings
went unsolved for so long raised the specter of a child-killer on
the loose in the community. Added to that was the fact that the
girls were slain in Wiley's home. "So you've got a situation where
the home is not even safe," Klinger said. No neighborhood was more
affected than the near North Side area where Jennifer Ertman and
Elizabeth Pena lived and died.
The Rev. Thomas Wendland, a priest of
St. Rose of Lima Catholic Church, where Pena worshipped, has watched
fear and paranoia grow among his parishioners. He spoke of their
desire for higher fences to keep evil out, of a growing "siege
mentality."
Worse, he fears that Cantu and his group may not be
sociopathic freaks, but rather a shocking indication that moral
training has left too many households. "It says probably that most
of the parents are so deeply committed to trying to provide what
they consider the necessities that they missed the boat," Wendland
said. "They missed the point of what is a necessity."
He was on four years'
probation for bulling his way through an Astrodome crowd last March,
deliberately bumping into people and trying to pick fights,
ultimately cutting a teen-ager's shirt with a butterfly knife. On
the fatal June day, witnesses said, Cantu spent hours drinking beer
with friends and fellow gang members. After sundown, his focus was
on Raul Omar Villarreal, 19, who wanted so badly to be a Black and
White member that he offered to fight everybody to gain admittance.
The group moved to a railroad trestle off T.C. Jester for
Villarreal's initiation rites. The teen fared well against his first
three rivals, but the fourth one knocked him out cold. But
Villarreal's performance was enough to win him a membership, and the
group went to the center of the trestle to drink beer and
congratulate him. They were giving him tips on gang etiquette when
they noticed two figures approaching in the darkness.
Frustrated the
fighting ended before he could battle Villarreal, Cantu decided to
take it out on the larger figure, thinking it was a male. The
figures turned out to be Ertman and Pena, Waltrip High School
sophomores taking a shortcut home to make their families' curfews.
Two teens with the group, Roman and Frank Sandoval, already were
leaving, since they had wearied of the gang's drunken antics and
felt something bad was about to happen.
Roman Sandoval said he
glanced back to see gang member Jose "Joe" Medellin, 19, drag Pena
off the railroad tracks. She screamed for help, and Ertman rushed
back to help, only to be grabbed by Cantu.
That earned him a 40-year sentence in juvenile courts for
felony rape. When he was finished, Medellin testified, Cantu
whispered to him: "We're going to have to kill them." Pena was led
into a stand of towering pines and strangled with shoelaces by Jose
Medellin and Efrain "Junior" Perez, 19, witnesses said.
Nearby,
according to testimony, Ertman was strangled with a red belt by
O'Brien and Villarreal. Cantu's confession said he kicked out three
of Pena's front teeth with his steel-toed work boots. Prosecutor
Donna Goode theorized the same boots were used to break Ertman's
ribs.
Then, Cantu said, he stood atop each girl's throat to ensure
they were dead. Afterward, Jose Medellin, Villarreal and Perez went
to the Cantu home and boasted to gang member Joe Adam Cantu, 21, and
his wife, Christina, 16, they had had "a lot of fun" with "a couple
of chicks."
Four days later, pretending to be "Gonzalez,"
Joe Cantu called 911 to tell police where the bodies were. The call
was traced to the Cantu home, and Joe Cantu directed officers to the
homes of all the gang members except Villarreal.
All five defendants
confessed and were soon charged with capital murder. In court,
defense lawyers Donald Davis and Robert Morrow tried to portray
Cantu as a pitiable teen with learning disabilities and parents who
could not hope to cope with all the troubles their son caused.
Cantu's death sentence came on the heels of testimony from dozens of
witnesses who depicted him as a bull-headed, argumentative youth who
was prone to yelling obscenities at people he passed, became
violently angry at anyone who aggravated him and bullied anyone who
seemed weak.
The girls, who stumbled onto the gang initiation while
taking a shortcut near White Oak Bayou in northwest Houston, were
raped for an hour before being strangled with shoelaces, a belt and
stomps to the throat. Cantu ordered the girls killed so they would
not identify their attackers, testimony showed. Yet he and other
defendants returned from the scene and gloated to family members
what they had done, witnesses said.
During the trial, prosecutors
introduced a statement from Cantu in which he admitted ripping a
gold chain from Ertman's neck as she was being forced to perform sex
acts.
Cantu's confession said the girls later were led into a wooded
area, where Joe Medellin began strangling Pena with his hands while
Raul Villarreal and Derrick Sean O'Brien used a belt and shoelaces
to strangle the girls. O'Brien, Medellin, Villarreal and Efrain
Perez are awaiting prosecution for capital murder.
For four days
after the attacks on Ertman and Pena, their bodies remained in the
woods. Police were led to the scene by a telephone tip from Cantu's
brother, Joe, 21, who testified during the trial that he was unhappy
to hear his fellow Black and White members boasting about having "a
lot of fun" with the two girls.
Ertman was expected to come home by midnight; Pena was expected home
before 11:30 p.m. Since they were reliable about not missing their
curfews, and since both were wearing electronic pagers so their
parents could reach them easily, neither family was immediately
concerned that the girls were late.
Ertman said he thought his
daughter had stayed overnight with a friend and he went to sleep.
Adolph and Melissa Pena also went to sleep. But by the next morning,
both families were frantically calling the girls' pagers. They began
ringing the phones of the girls' friends. Searches were organized.
Missing-persons reports were filed with the police.
Assisted by 28
friends, Pena and Ertman distributed flyers. They went up from
Cleveland to Galveston, taped to phone booths, stuck on utility
poles with staple guns, tucked under windshield wipers. "We put
fliers all over the city of Houston," Melissa Pena said. "We put out
at least 3,000 in three days."
Prosecutor Donna Goode asked both
parents about the impact on their families of having their children
brutally murdered. "There's no birthdays, no Christmases, but most
of all there's no children. She was my baby," Ertman said at one
point. "That's the only one we'll ever have. My wife's 50 years old."
State District Judge Bill Harmon allowed jurors to hear the
testimony despite the protests of defense attorney Robert Morrow,
who said the emotional displays were irrelevant to the choice the
jury has to make. Cantu's other lawyer, Donald Davis, said numerous
appeals courts have frowned on prosecutors encouraging such
testimony, but he doubts Harmon's decision will be enough to cause a
reversal of his client's conviction.
Other
state witnesses included Harper Alternative School principal Paul
Hanser and Dalton Hughes Jr., a former Houston school security
officer, who said Cantu became so enraged at them about separate
incidents in 1989 and 1990 that he threatened to kill them.
Worthing
High School student Mario Harkness, 18, told how Cantu deliberately
bumped into him on Jan. 9, 1993, at the Astrodome. Then, he said,
Cantu tried to pick a fight, pulled a knife and cut the teen's shirt.
That got Cantu placed on a four-year probation for assault.
Police
Sgt. Paul Stavinoha told of stopping a car driven by Cantu on July
18, 1992, on 28th Street and finding a .38-caliber revolver under a
seat.
Policeman James Godfrey
testified he stopped a stolen car driven by Cantu on Antoine on Dec.
7, 1991. That got Cantu placed on probation in Harris County's
juvenile courts.
The overall testimony of several teachers,
principals, school bus drivers and security guards depicted Cantu as
a bull-headed, argumentative youth who was prone to yell obscenities
at people he passed, became violently angry at anyone who aggravated
him and bullied anyone who seemed weak. Many witnesses said that
whenever they tried talking to Cantu's mother, Suzie Cantu, it was a
waste of time.
Cantu's mother barely seemed to listen, brushed them
off by saying "I'll take care of it," or else contended whatever had
happened was not her son's fault but that of someone who "provoked"
him.
She said she escaped then, but on July 27, 1988, he
came to her house and spent 10 minutes circling it, yelling: "Let me
in. I know you're in there."
She called her father, Sherman Law, who
went to Cantu's apartment and informed his mother, Suzie Cantu, that
her son had broken a window in his efforts to get to Amber Law. "She
seemed like she didn't believe he'd been over there," Sherman Law
testified. And when he spoke to Cantu, he was told: "(Expletive) you.
I can do whatever I want."
His visit to the Cantu apartment at 3405
N. Shepherd was followed up by Houston police juvenile Officer J.W.
Kirtley, who warned 13-year-old Cantu that such antics could "come
back to haunt him."
Just as class was about to start, she said, she noticed Cantu and
another student standing nose to nose, inches apart, in a sort of "face-off"
in the classroom's doorway.
When she touched his collar to end the
confrontation, she said, he put his hands on her chest and shoved
her the length of her classroom, saying: "Leave me alone, old lady."
Then, she said, he grabbed her hands and pushed her out of the
classroom and down a hallway. It ended with social studies teacher
Stephen Seale grabbing Cantu from behind, causing both of them to
fall to the floor. "I've never had that happen before or since,"
Caudill testified. "We had fights every day, but never an attack on
a teacher in a classroom." Cantu was expelled, only to be allowed
back in the same school the next month.
Seale's daughter, Alicia
Seale, 16, said she was at a concession stand during a football game
Nov. 17, 1988, when Cantu and his friends were behind her in a line
and began making threats. He said he hated my father and wanted to
kill him," Alicia Seale told jurors.
While the families of the victims, Elizabeth Pena, 16, and
Jennifer Ertman, 14, wept happily and embraced after the verdict,
Cantu, 19, seemed to sigh and then smile faintly in resignation.
The
jury must sentence him to death or a life prison term that can't end
in parole until he's served 35 years. Harmon estimated the trial
should end by Tuesday.
Prosecutors Don Smyth and Donna Goode have
subpoenaed 42 witnesses who likely will describe every misdeed ever
blamed on the defendant.
Defense lawyers Robert Morrow and Donald
Davis said they will call some witnesses, but they would not detail
their plans.
Cantu told a police
detective, Roy Swainson, how he had taken his Black and White gang
to a railroad trestle over White Oak Bayou in northwest Houston on
June 24 to drink beer and initiate a new member.
The latter, Raul
Villarreal, 19, was to fight four gang members, but he was knocked
out before Cantu had his turn.
That frustrated Cantu, and when two
figures were spotted approaching in the darkness, he decided to take
it out on the larger one, who appeared to be a male. It turned out
to be Pena and Ertman, taking a shortcut home from a party to save
15 minutes and avoid a parental scolding.
Almost immediately, gang
member Jose "Joe" Medellin, 19, grabbed Pena and dragged her away.
Cantu grabbed Ertman, who had run back to help her screaming friend.
As that was
ending, Venancio Medellin, 15, testified, Cantu whispered that they
would have to kill the girls.
Venancio Medellin, younger brother of
defendant Jose Medellin, said he stood in shock between the victims
during the rapes as Cantu kept urging him to "get some."
Cantu's
confession said the girls were led into a wooded area, where Joe
Medellin began strangling Pena with his hands while Villarreal and
defendant Derrick Sean O'Brien, 19, used a red belt to strangle
Ertman. "Efrain (Perez, another defendant) started to help Joe
strangle the brunette (Pena)," the confession continued. "That's
when I kicked her once in the face. When she dropped to her back, we
checked for a pulse."
Despite all their efforts, Ertman's heart was still
beating. So, Cantu confessed, he stood on her throat with his left
foot, and then O'Brien did the same. "We did this to make sure they
were dead," Cantu said. "We didn't want to be identified."
Goode
suggested that Cantu's boots were used to break three of Ertman's
ribs after she was dead. The girls' decomposing bodies remained in
the woods for four days.
Then Cantu's brother, Joe, 21, unhappy to
hear his fellow Black and White members boasting about having "a lot
of fun" with two murder victims, called police and gave the location
of the bodies.
Joe Cantu said his name was "Gonzalez," but police
traced his 911 call to the Cantu family home in northwest Houston,
and he soon identified the culprits.
Venancio Medellin is serving a
40-year juvenile court sentence. Jose Medellin, O'Brien, Perez and
Villarreal await prosecution on capital murder charges.
As he has all week, Cantu, 19, scribbled, read documents and
whispered to defense attorney Donald Davis throughout the grueling
testimony, seldom looking up or appearing anything but placid. He
faces a possible death penalty if convicted of capital murder in the
June 24 slayings, which occurred after the girls took a shortcut
down a stretch of railroad tracks and walked into a gang initiation
late that night.
Cantu was leader of the gang and, prosecutors said,
directed the killings after Pena and Ertman had been raped. The
teens were strangled with a belt and shoelaces, and then had their
throats stomped, witnesses said.
State District Judge Bill Harmon
hopes attorneys can argue Cantu's guilt or innocence of the charges
Thursday after police witnesses describe his confession to jurors.
The only person allegedly involved
who Joe Cantu did not identify for police was Raul Villarreal, who
had become a full-fledged gang member only minutes before the
killings. O'Brien, Jose Medellin, Perez and Villarreal, all 19, are
awaiting prosecution for capital murder.
While Joe Cantu was
testifying Tuesday, his brother Peter Cantu never looked directly at
him, only glancing toward him when he was asked to identify small
pieces of evidence.
Instead, Peter Cantu appeared to be reading
documents and whispering to his lawyer, Donald Davis, as Joe Cantu
spent more than an hour telling jurors in state District Judge Bill
Harmon's court about the Black and White gang and his brother.
As Joe Cantu explained, the gang was formed six years ago and was named
after the black and white clothing worn by its members.
Other gang members soon began following Peter Cantu's
directions, his brother said, and that tended to reinforce the
younger brother's control.
Although Joe Cantu never said he had been
leader of the gang, he described how his relationship with Peter
Cantu had become "poor" by June 1993.
By then, Joe Cantu said, he "only
now and then" accompanied the Black and White gang on outings. Yet
the gang continued to use the Cantu family home as its social center,
Joe Cantu said, and it was there that Jose Medellin, Villarreal and
Perez went after the Ertman-Pena killings. When Joe Cantu asked what
happened, he recalled someone responding: "You'll hear about it on
the news."
Cantu said he asked who got killed and Jose Medellin
answered: "A couple of chicks." Cantu testified that he and his wife,
Christina Cantu, 16, pressed Medellin, Villarreal and Perez for
details, at which point Villarreal and Perez admitted raping the
girls.
Once the
girls' belonging were split up, Joe Cantu testified, the group began
explaining what they had done, with Peter Cantu acknowledging that
it was all true. Medellin, the older brother said, complained about
the trouble they had killing one of the girls.
Joe Cantu recalled
Medellin observing: "It would've been easier with a gun." One of the
girls had bitten Perez during the rapes, Joe Cantu said, and the
gang members "all got a big laugh out of that."
Their laughing,
joking, blood-stained clothes and descriptions were so cold and
vivid, Joe Cantu told jurors, that Christina Cantu had nightmares
afterward. "I couldn't stand to see my wife that way," he said.
Joe
Cantu said he was so disgusted by what his brother and the gang had
done, and knew the victims' parents had to be worried about their
missing daughters, that he decided to call police.
But after
reaching the site, a railroad trestle in northwest Houston over
White Oak Bayou, they discovered that Cantu's main objective was to
initiate a new Black and White member, Raul Omar Villarreal, 19.
To
gain admittance, Villarreal had to spend a half-hour having five-minute
punching and kicking fights with gang members to prove, in effect,
he was worthy of membership.
The youths then went to the middle of
the trestle to sip malt liquor, congratulate Villarreal and brief
him on gang etiquette, such as not getting too upset if another
member jokes about having sex with one's mother. The girls then
began approaching on the tracks, two indistinct forms on a dark
night.
The gang first thought they were a male and a female, and
Cantu, 19, decided immediately he wanted to fight the male. Frank
Sandoval was already leaving with his brother, largely because he
thought the members were "all hyper and drunk, getting out of
control."
Ertman was past the gang and
could have run to safety, testimony suggested, but she hurried back
to help her friend. Venancio Medellin said he saw Cantu grab
Ertman's wrist and drag her down the railroad embankment toward the
dirt area where Villarreal had just finished fighting for his
membership.
Moments later, the witness continued, Cantu made Ertman
undergo the first in a long series of sex acts, while Pena had been
stripped nearby and was being assaulted by two gang members in turn.
Venancio Medellin said he stood between the crying girls. He asked
his brother to stop, only to be ignored, then made the same request
of Cantu. Every time, he said, Cantu told him: "Get some." The boy
said he had felt that Jose Medellin and Cantu were the only ones who
might listen to him.
The third time he pleaded with Cantu, Venancio
Medellin admitted, he yielded to the defendant's demands and had
intercourse with Ertman. That landed him in sex offender therapy at
the Texas Youth Commission's maximum-security facility at Giddings.
At Cantu's directions, the
teen told prosecutor Don Smyth, the gang members led the girls
toward a nearby wooded area. Then, he said, his brother instructed
him to stay back because he was "too small to watch."
Still, he said,
he could see Villarreal and Derrick Sean O'Brien, 19, put Ertman on
her knees, get on either side of her and loop a belt around her neck.
He said he saw her gagging and clawing at the belt with her hands as
the pair strangled her. Pena was similarly killed, apparently with
shoelaces, at a point in the trees beyond his vision.
The day's
final witness, Cantu's sister-in-law, Christina Cantu, 16, said Jose
Medellin, Efrain Perez and Villarreal arrived at the family home at
1128 Ashland soon after the killings with blood on their clothes. "I
asked them what happened," she testified. Medellin and Perez said, "
"We had a lot of fun,' like it was a big joke." The trio later told
a rambling story of meeting "two bitches and having a lot of fun
with them," Christine Cantu explained.
When Peter Cantu arrived, the
gang quickly began dividing the $40 and the many rings and necklaces
stolen from the girls, she said. Jose Medellin, she said, boasted he
had "virgin's blood" on his underpants.
Cantu, the purported
leader, was conducting what was described as beer-drinking gang
initiation rites. The girls' bodies were found June 28. Both had
been sexually assaulted, beaten and strangled.
Police arrested the
six youths the next day. The grand jury met for two days, Wednesday
and Monday, before returning indictments.
The only witness to appear
before the panel whom Smyth would identify was the medical examiner
who performed autopsies on the girls. Asked if the two boys who were
present before the violence began appeared before the grand jury,
Smyth said: "I won't comment on that."
All now face arraignment in
the five courts in which they are charged. They remain in the Harris
County Jail with no bond. Cantu will be the first tried, in early
1994 in state District Judge Bill Harmon's court.
"I was deeply saddened by the
news of Jennifer's death," Clinton wrote to Ertman in a letter dated
July 14. "The death of a young person is especially tragic, and my
heart goes out to you. As a parent and as president, I feel strongly
that we must make America's streets safer for our children.
Working
together, as parents, neighbors, and law enforcement officials, we
must dedicate ourselves to preventing senseless violence in our
communities." The letter, similar to one sent to the Pena family,
concluded: "You are in my thoughts and my prayers."
Adolph Pena said
the letter was "pretty moving." At the same time, Pena said, he was
"pretty excited about it, to get one, from the president. It's hard
to put it in words." Ertman said the death of his daughter has
shattered his world.
He added: "I know I'm just a little person in
the giant scheme of things. This helps a lot," he said of Clinton's
letter. "It makes you feel pretty good, and I'd like to tell him, 'Thank
you.' I used to be a Republican," Ertman added. "Now I'm a Democrat."
They apparently stumbled upon a
gang of drinking teen-age boys. Their bodies were found four days
later. Police say it was a crime of opportunity. Five teen-agers
have been charged with capital murder, and a 14-year-old is being
held by juvenile authorities.
Little was said about the crime
Thursday at the Heights Funeral Home. Friends and family wanted to
talk about Jennifer, not how she died. "No one who has ever known
her can say Jenny was not a good person. I believe she was. I know
she was," said Randy Ertman, her father, in a written eulogy. "Every
friend she has, either called, helped or looked for her when asked.
What more can be said?"
A family friend had to read the eulogy for
Ertman, who called Jennifer a "little stinker." "Her life was short,
but everyone here cared, and that's a lot right there," the eulogy
said. "All the young adults here, please believe in your parents so
that they don't have to do this for you."
One of the nearly 300 teen-agers
listening was Dallas Young, 17, who went to Waltrip High School with
Jennifer. Wearing dark glasses, she stood at the podium, near the
flower-laden casket, and said, "The thing I'll miss the most about
her is the way she laughed."
More fond words were spoken at the brief funeral by longtime family
friend and neighbor Earl Hatcher. "To Jennifer: We love you. We need
you. We miss you. We are here for you," he said.
Talking through
tears, he reminisced about a younger Jennifer, buzzing tirelessly up
and down the street on a go-cart. "I watched her grow up, and her
interests changed from go-carts to cars," he said. "She was becoming
a woman and, like a butterfly, I saw the transition." When the
tributes were finished, young and old began solemnly passing by the
casket and an enlarged photograph of Jennifer.
Even a Houston police
homicide detective who investigated the case was there to pay his
respects. Tribute also was paid to Pena Thursday in a prayer vigil
at the Pat H. Foley Funeral Home.
Friends and family, many who also
were at Jennifer's funeral, gathered to pray for the young girl. "I
won't have anyone to talk to anymore, and I lost my best friend,"
said Gillian Hemphill, 15. "I just wish she was back, that's all."
Services for Pena are at 10 a.m. today at the funeral home, 1200 W.
34th St.
It would be unusual if that did not happen in a case
where five teen-agers are charged with two capital murders with
overtones of gang activity, and an underage juvenile is also
implicated.
At this moment, these murders, regardless of their
notoriety, make no case for anything other than for the swiftest
possible resolution in the judicial system of who is responsible,
and of the appropriate punishment.
They do not make a case for
changes in the law, for stiffer punishments or more prison cells,
for implying blame to society or various hapless people or groups
for such a tragedy, or for careless and ill-informed speculation
about the state of the community. It is enough for now to handle the
aftermath of a stomach-wrenching crime.
When the attack on the girls
began, Silva said, the two would-be gang members left, but none of
the six gang members attempted to stop the assaults.
Prosecutor Ted
Wilson agreed: "They all participated in the rapes and the
strangulations." Charged with capital murder and held without bond
are Peter Anthony Cantu, 18, of 1128 Ashland; Derrick Sean O'Brien,
18, of 4000 W. 34th; Efrain Perez, 17, of 2100 Beaver Bend; Raul
Omar Villarreal, 17, of 4010 Chapman; and Jose Ernesto Medellin, 18,
of 9211 Brackley.
One suspect's 14-year-old brother is being held by
juvenile authorities. According to a source, the girls were forced
to submit to "just about every sex act you can imagine, and a few
you just couldn't imagine."
Police have
said the ages of the girls, both Waltrip High School students, the
brutality of their deaths and the suspects' apparent lack of remorse
made it a particularly grueling case for the investigators. "This is
what we do for a living, and this is what we're constantly exposed
to," Silva said. "In a case like this ... it's a much bigger test of
your self-control. "These guys (investigators) spent hours with guys
who had done something like that ... it's very hard to work with."
Family members and neighbors of the suspects were unavailable or
reticent Wednesday, and little was known of their backgrounds.
Medellin, a Nuevo Laredo, Mexico-born, ninth-grade dropout, pleaded
guilty in September to illegally carrying a firearm, a misdemeanor,
and received a year of probation with deferred adjudication. Once
employed in construction, he apparently was neither employed nor
enrolled when arrested in the killings.
The county
jail uniforms of Cantu, Perez and O'Brien bore the words "I am,"
along with various epithets, on the back. It was unclear whether the
slurs were written by other inmates or by sheriff's deputies, one of
whom called the five "not real popular" with inmates and guards.
Perez was late in court because of a trip to the jail clinic one
bailiff said was the result of a beating from other prisoners. Asked
to confirm reports that Perez turned in the other teens to police,
Silva said a lot of information was used to make the arrests, adding
that Perez "is not the only factor."
Officials could not
confirm reports the 14-year-old suspect was attacked and beaten by
other inmates at juvenile facilities. More than a dozen homicide
officers were assigned to the case, and some were present at
Wednesday's news conference. Silva praised them for closing the case
within 24 hours.
Services for Ertman will be held at 3 p.m. today at
Heights Funeral Home, 1317 Heights Blvd. Services for Pena will be
at 10 a.m. Friday at St. Rose of Lima Catholic Church, 3600 Brinkman.
She, like Ertman, will be buried in Woodlawn Garden of Memories
Cemetery.
A memorial fund for the victims has been set up at Compass
Bank, and any of its offices in the Houston area will accept
contributions.
Carreiro was there because he
had become a victims' rights advocate since his own loss. "It was
probably somebody very similar to (convicted murderer) Gary Graham
that killed my daughter," Carreiro said.
Ertman, a heavy-set
painting contractor, was at the rally, desperately seeking news
media assistance in finding his daughter, who had been missing since
Thursday night. "I told him yesterday (Sunday), "You're a good man,
but I never want to see you again,' " Ertman said. "Yesterday I was
an observer. Today I'm actively involved."
But in less than 24 hours,
Ertman saw Carreiro again. The two stood in Ertman's yard, drinking
beer, trying to find solace in each other's company. "He asked for
help, and I've been in this 11 months," Carreiro said. "I've gone
through all of it." "He's really helped me a lot," Ertman said.
But Ertman's rage was new and white hot. "I'd tell you (what he
would do to the murderer), but you couldn't print it anyway," he
growled. Carreiro, a thin man with graying hair, moved closer to
Ertman. "But we're going to get them," Carreiro promised Ertman. "We'll
never give up until we find the murderers of our children."
Ertman
nodded agreement. "Your baby is an angel looking down on us,"
Carreiro said, sounding like a father who has begun to deal with his
child's death. "I believed in God up until today; today God is in
hell," said Ertman, sounding like a father who hasn't.
O'Brien first contends this court should grant a
COA because reasonable jurists could debate that his counsel's
failure*731 to pursue potentially mitigating mental health evidence
did not constitute ineffective assistance of counsel.
O'Brien's counsel retained a clinical
psychologist, Dr. Jerome Brown, a psychiatrist, Dr. Roy Aruffo, and
a clinical social worker, Ann Estus, to evaluate O'Brien. O'Brien
contends that his counsel was in possession of their psychological
reports, which were not presented to the jury during sentencing,
that suggested a long history of abuse and attendant psychological
problems and allegedly would have been beneficial to O'Brien's case.
O'Brien points to a list of factors, identified
in Dr. Aruffo's psychiatric evaluation, as having important
psychological significance: (1) O'Brien's mother's difficulties with
men at the time of O'Brien's birth; (2) early failures in
establishing a mother-infant bond; (3) asthma at an early age; (4)
attachment to a grandmother who proved to be over-indulgent and had
difficulties in setting boundaries; (5) having been treated harshly
in the formative years, by two jealous men-one married to his mother
and one married to his grandmother; and (6) becoming much too deeply
involved in one gang so that his behavior was controlled externally.
However, O'Brien's counsel chose not to call Dr. Aruffo, or any of
these mental health experts, to testify.
Nevertheless, reasonable jurists would not
disagree that O'Brien's counsel's decision regarding the testimony
of Drs. Brown and Aruffo was reasonable under the circumstances.
Dr. Brown's psychological report was unfavorable
to O'Brien, concluding that “[a]lmost all of the clinical scales [were]
elevated to pathological levels.” Dr. Brown stated in his report: [I]t
is my belief that the information obtained would be more harmful to
Mr. O'Brien in the long run than helpful···· Much of his personality
development and the documented problem behaviors he has exhibited
for a number of years reveal him to be essentially anti-social in
basic personality characteristics and as able to at least tolerate,
if not participate in, violent and poorly planned criminal
activities such as the crime for which he is now being tried. As you
know, if I testify in court my results will be available for
scrutiny and use by the prosecution···· I would not recommend that I
be asked to testify on his behalf in the punishment phase.
In addition, Dr. Aruffo noted that O'Brien's
“perception of reality is greatly colored by defects in his
personality.” Although Dr. Aruffo observed in his prognosis that
“[t]here is a possibility that in a few years [O'Brien] would be
more adult like and inhibited and restrained,” he diagnosed O'Brien
with Antisocial Personality Disorder and stated, “There is little or
no indication that Mr. O'Brien wants or needs to make amends when he
has transgressed conventional morality. People with a mature
conscience feel good about themselves when they obey the commands of
their conscience. This young man feels increased self esteem when he
offends society.”
Finally, Ann Estus, the clinical social worker,
concluded that due to O'Brien's “lack of judgment or impulse control
and his inability to empathize with his victims, it is likely he
would, in a new community, once again seek out an anti-social peer
group.”
The district court concluded that the state
court's refusal to grant habeas relief based on this evidence was
not unreasonable: counsel made a strategic decision not to call
these mental health witnesses, considering their negative
observations of O'Brien's character.
O'Brien's trial counsel recognized that the
mental health experts' testimony would be more harmful to the
defense than helpful, particularly given that counsel would have had
to make the expert reports available to the prosecution *732 if
these witnesses had been called to testify.
The petitioner also indicates that although
counsel investigated O'Brien's mental health, the investigation was
not conducted in a timely fashion. However, the record shows that
the mental health evaluations and reports were completed prior to
the commencement of O'Brien's trial. In addition, counsel conferred
with the mental health experts who expressed opinions that counsel
deemed detrimental to O'Brien.
2. Ella Jones
O'Brien contends this court should grant a COA
because reasonable jurists could debate that counsel's failure to
call his mother, Ella Jones, to testify on his behalf did not
constitute ineffective assistance of counsel. Ms. Jones submitted
statements to the state habeas court and federal district court,FN4
expressing concern that she was not given the opportunity to speak
on her son's behalf or say anything to contradict the other
witnesses.
In her statements, Ms. Jones explains that her
son had experienced some difficulties in school as a result of
alleged sexual advances by a male teacher. She describes her son as
a young man headed in a positive direction.
FN4. With respect to Ms. Jones' affidavits, we
only consider the factual allegations that were presented to the
state habeas court. See Dowthitt v. Johnson, 230 F.3d 733, 745-46
(5th Cir.2000).
However, the record reveals that counsel spoke
with Ms. Jones and made a strategic decision not to call her as a
witness. During Ms. Jones's interview with counsel, Ms. Jones stated:
she had attempted to take O'Brien to counseling, but that he
wouldn't attend faithfully; she was not surprised that the incidents
leading up to O'Brien's prosecution had occurred; and she had warned
O'Brien on numerous occasions about his conduct and the people with
whom he was associating.
In addition, O'Brien told his counsel that he did
not want his mother to testify because he did not want to subject
her to cross-examination and other harassment by the prosecution.
“[S]trategic choices made after thorough investigation of law and
facts relevant to plausible options are virtually unchallengeable.”
Strickland, 466 U.S. at 690-91, 104 S.Ct. 2052. Further, “in
evaluating strategic choices of trial counsel, we must give great
deference to choices which are made under the explicit direction of
the client.” U.S. v. Masat, 896 F.2d 88, 92 (5th Cir.1990).
The state habeas court found counsel's
explanation as to why counsel did not call Ms. Jones to testify
credible. State court findings of fact are presumed to be correct,
unless rebutted by clear and convincing evidence. See28 U.S.C. §
2254(e)(1); Valdez v. Cockrell, 274 F.3d 941, 947-48 (5th Cir.2001);
see also Pondexter v. Dretke, 346 F.3d 142, 149 (5th Cir.2003).
Consequently, the district court agreed with the
state habeas court: counsel made a professional judgment that Ms.
Jones would not be a favorable witness. The district court explained
that “[w]hile hindsight might suggest that counsel should have
called [Ms.] Jones, the tactic was not so ill chosen that it
permeated the entire trial with obvious unfairness.” O'Brien v.
Dretke, No. H-02-1865, slip op. at 13 (S.D.Tex. Jan. 14, 2005)(internal
quotations omitted). Reasonable jurists would not find this
debatable.
O'Brien next argues this court should grant a COA
because reasonable jurists could debate that defense counsel's
failure to call James Fortson, O'Brien's step-grandfather, to
testify during sentencing did not constitute ineffective assistance
of counsel.
O'Brien contends that evidence of Mr. Fortson's
mistreatment of *733 him could have provided the foundation for a
meaningful mitigation case. O'Brien lived with Mr. Fortson, and
O'Brien's psychological evaluations indicate that Mr. Fortson was
abusive and intentionally cruel toward O'Brien when he was child.
However, the district court found that counsel's
decision not to call Mr. Fortson was a reasonable strategic decision.
Dr. Aruffo's psychiatric evaluation states that Mr. Fortson was
cruel to O'Brien because he was “jealous of the boy.” Given Mr.
Fortson's reported hostile feelings toward O'Brien, counsel
concluded that Mr. Fortson would not be a favorable witness to the
defense.
Mr. Fortson's affidavit, that he submitted during
the state habeas proceeding, states that he was never contacted by
defense counsel regarding O'Brien's childhood and that he would have
liked to discuss his role in O'Brien's life. However, Mr. Fortson's
affidavit does not indicate what the nature of his testimony would
have been.
Complaints based upon uncalled witnesses are
disfavored because “speculations as to what these witnesses would
have testified is too uncertain.” Alexander v. McCotter, 775 F.2d
595, 602 (5th Cir.1985); see Evans v. Cockrell, 285 F.3d 370, 377
(5th Cir.2002)( “[C]omplaints of uncalled witnesses are not favored
in federal habeas corpus review because allegations of what the
witness would have testified are largely speculative.”). Here, such
uncertainty precludes the debatability of a finding of prejudice.
4. Other Witnesses
O'Brien contends this court should grant a COA
because reasonable jurists could debate that counsel's failure to
identify potentially mitigating witnesses did not constitute
ineffective assistance of counsel. O'Brien submits affidavits from
Sheila and Lois Powers and Eddie and Gwendolyn Walker. FN5 Sheila
and Lois Powers are family friends of O'Brien and the Walkers are
O'Brien's aunt and uncle.
Their statements indicate that O'Brien is a soft-spoken,
respectful young man. The affidavits also suggest O'Brien felt that
he was not taken seriously after his school disregarded his
allegations of sexual advances by a male teacher. Eddie Walker
characterizes this incident as the source of O'Brien's difficulties.
All four declarants state that they would have testified on
O'Brien's behalf.
FN5. O'Brien submitted these affidavits, for the
first time, to the district court on federal habeas review. Section
2254(b)(1)(A) of AEDPA states that “a writ of habeas corpus ···
shall not be granted unless it appears that-the applicant has
exhausted the remedies available in the courts of the State.”
However, we will consider these affidavits to the
extent they do not present material evidentiary support to the
federal court that was not presented to the state court. See
Dowthitt, 230 F.3d at 745-46. In his state habeas petition, O'Brien
argued that his trial counsel failed to conduct a meaningful
investigation into potential mitigating testimony.
He further stated that, had counsel discovered
available potential witnesses, the testimony would have included
O'Brien's family history, character, background, and evidence
related to attempted sexual abuse by a teacher.
Despite counsel's failure to discover these
potential witnesses, reasonable jurists could not disagree that
counsel's investigation into O'Brien's background was reasonable.
See Williams v. Maggio, 679 F.2d 381, 393 (5th Cir.1982) (“Petitioner's
final argument charges counsel with failure to conduct a thorough
pre-trial investigation····
This challenge to counsel's performance attempts
to do precisely that which is barred by this Court; it invites us to
question counsel's trial strategy and judge his performance
incompetent if it was not errorless.”); see also Burger v. Kemp, 483
U.S. 776, 794, 107 S.Ct. 3114, 97 L.Ed.2d 638 (1987) (“[C]ounsel's
decision *734 not to mount an all-out investigation into
petitioner's background in search of mitigating circumstances was
supported by reasonable professional judgment.”).
Counsel asked O'Brien to identify potential
mitigation witnesses, interviewed several of O'Brien's family
members and friends, and retained mental health experts.
Based on counsel's findings, he determined that
none of these potential witnesses would be favorable to the defense.
When counsel speaks with a great number of mitigation witnesses, but
reasonably determines those witnesses would do more harm than good,
he adequately investigates possible mitigating evidence. See Boyle
v. Johnson, 93 F.3d 180, 188 n. 18 (5th Cir.1996).
The district court's rulings regarding O'Brien's
ineffective assistance of counsel claim are not debatable among
jurists of reason. A COA may not issue as to this claim.
B. Would reasonable jurists find it debatable
that the jury was unhindered in its ability to consider mitigating
evidence during the punishment phase of trial?
O'Brien contends this court should grant a COA
because reasonable jurists could debate that his Eighth and
Fourteenth Amendment rights were not violated. According to O'Brien,
the jury was unable to consider all of the mitigating evidence
presented, in violation of those rights. Under Penry v. Johnson,“the
jury [must] be able to consider and give effect to a defendant's
mitigating evidence in imposing sentence.” 532 U.S. 782, 797, 121
S.Ct. 1910, 150 L.Ed.2d 9 (2001) (internal citations omitted).
O'Brien points out that the prosecutor told the jury there must be a
connection between mitigating evidence and the charged crime. He
concedes that the trial court gave the proper statutory charge, but
argues that its effect was negated by deliberate, constant
limitations imposed by the prosecutor.
During voir dire examination, the prosecutor told
some of the prospective jurors that the only relevant mitigation
evidence was evidence connected to the crime itself. For example,
the prosecutor stated: And you might consider whether or not those
things in his background or in the case background are connected to
the actual killing. For example, if there's something in a
defendant's background that you didn't think was even connected to
why he did what he did, then you might consider that as not
sufficiently mitigating.
In addition, during direct examination at the
punishment phase, a witness testified that O'Brien was learning
disabled in mathematics. The prosecutor asked whether this
disability could be connected to the crime as an excuse.
Finally, in his closing argument, the prosecutor
reiterated that a nexus between possibly mitigating evidence and the
crime was required; FN6 *735 he concluded that “there's not anything
at all [the jury] heard from any witness that is mitigating.”
O'Brien contends that, due to the prosecutor's
statements throughout the trial, the jury was unable to consider his
youthFN7 and his behavior while in the Harris County Jail.FN8 FN6.
During closing argument at punishment, the prosecutor stated:
Then you move on to [Special Issue] No. 3, then
you look at the Charge. And it tells you to ask yourself if there's
anything mitigating. And we talked about what does mitigating
mean···· What, if anything, is mitigating about him that you heard?
The only thing that I can possibly think of is that the guy's
learning disabled in arithmetic, he can't add···· Well, does that
have anything to do with raping and killing these two girls? Can
that have possibly somehow be connected as an excuse for what he's
done to them?
[Dr. Smoote] told you no. You didn't need a
psychiatrist or psychologist to tell you that. It doesn't take a
rocket scientist to figure out if you can't add that doesn't give
you the right to go out and kill ··· other people. So there's not
anything at all that you heard from any witness that is mitigating.
FN7.
O'Brien was eighteen years old at the time of the
murder. Youth is constitutionally relevant to the sentencing
determination. See Eddings v. Oklahoma, 455 U.S. 104, 115, 102 S.Ct.
869, 71 L.Ed.2d 1 (1982). FN8. A good disciplinary record during
incarceration is a relevant mitigating circumstance. See Skipper v.
South Carolina, 476 U.S. 1, 7, 106 S.Ct. 1669, 90 L.Ed.2d 1 (1986).
Prior to the Supreme Court's decision in Tennard
v. Dretke,FN9 we required a petitioner to show that mitigating
evidence was relevant by demonstrating that he had a uniquely severe
permanent handicap acquired through no fault of his own, and there
was a nexus between the offense and the petitioner's severe
permanent condition. See Davis v. Scott, 51 F.3d 457, 460-61 (5th
Cir.1995), overruled in part by Tennard, 542 U.S. at 283-84, 124
S.Ct. 2562; Cole v. Dretke, 418 F.3d 494, 499 (5th Cir.2005).
The Tennard Court, however, explicitly held our
“uniquely severe permanent handicap” and “nexus” tests incorrect and
rejected them. Tennard, 542 U.S. at 289, 124 S.Ct. 2562.
Instead, the Supreme Court clarified its “low
threshold for relevance” of mitigating evidence stating, “[A] State
cannot bar the consideration of evidence if the sentencer could
reasonably find that it warrants a sentence less than death.” Id. at
285, 124 S.Ct. 2562 (internal quotations omitted). FN9. 542 U.S.
274, 124 S.Ct. 2562, 159 L.Ed.2d 384 (2004).
Although O'Brien's trial took place prior to
Tennard, the trial court's jury instructions were constitutional,
reflecting the proper statutory charge. In Lockett v. Ohio, a
plurality of the Supreme Court held that the “Eighth and Fourteenth
Amendments require that the sentencer, in all but the rarest kind of
capital case, not be precluded from considering, as a mitigating
factor, any aspect of a defendant's character or record ··· as a
basis for a sentence less than death.” 438 U.S. 586, 604, 98 S.Ct.
2954, 57 L.Ed.2d 973 (1978).
FN10. This was the third of three special issues
presented to the jury. The first special issue inquired, “Is there a
probability that the defendant, Derrick Sean Obrien [sic] would
commit criminal acts of violence that would constitute a continuing
threat to society?” The jury answered this first question in the
affirmative. The second special issued asked:
Do you find from the evidence beyond a reasonable
doubt that Derrick Sean Obrien [sic], the defendant himself,
actually caused the death of Jennifer Ertman, the deceased, on the
occasion in question, or if he did not actually cause Jennifer
Ertman's death, that he intended to kill Jennifer Ertman or another,
or that he anticipated that a human like would be taken? The jury
also answered this question in the affirmative. SeeTex.Crim.
Proc.Code Ann. art. 37.071(2)(e)(1).
The jury was further instructed that “the term
‘mitigating evidence’ or ‘mitigating circumstances' means evidence
that a juror might regard as reducing the defendant's moral
blameworthiness.” In addition,*736 the judge instructed the jury
that “[a] mitigating circumstance may include, but is not limited to,
any aspect of the defendant's character, background, record,
emotional instability, intelligence or circumstances of the crime
which you believe could make a death sentence inappropriate in this
case.”
In light of Tennard, these instructions “do not
unconstitutionally preclude the jury from considering, as a
mitigating factor, any aspect of a defendant's character or record
and any of the circumstances of the offense that the defendant
proffers as a basis for a sentence less than death.” Beazley v.
Johnson, 242 F.3d 248, 260 (5th Cir.), cert. denied,534 U.S. 945,
122 S.Ct. 329, 151 L.Ed.2d 243 (2001)(internal quotations omitted);
see Cole v. Dretke, 418 F.3d 494, 504 & n. 44 (5th Cir.2005)(indicating
that Texas's current capital sentencing scheme is constitutional
after Tennard because it includes a “catchall instruction on
mitigating evidence”). In the present case, the trial court's
instructions taken alone, allowed the jury to consider and give
effect to O'Brien's youth and post-arrest behavior.
However, the context of the proceedings is
relevant in determining whether the jury could reasonably have given
effect to the mitigating evidence. Boyde v. California, 494 U.S.
370, 383, 110 S.Ct. 1190, 108 L.Ed.2d 316 (1990); Penry, 532 U.S. at
800-02, 121 S.Ct. 1910 (“[W]e will approach jury instructions in the
same way a jury would-with a commonsense understanding of the
instructions in the light of all that has taken place at trial.”) (internal
quotations omitted); Simmons v. South Carolina, 512 U.S. 154, 171,
114 S.Ct. 2187, 129 L.Ed.2d 133 (1994)(“[I]n some circumstances the
risk that the jury will not, or cannot, follow instructions is so
great, and the consequences of failure so vital to the defendant,
that the practical and human limitations of the jury system cannot
be ignored.”) (internal quotations omitted).
In that vein, O'Brien argues that the
prosecutor's comments prejudiced the jury such that it was unable to
give meaningful effect to any of the mitigating evidence presented.
Indeed, the district court recognized that the
prosecutor's comments seemed intended to restrict the jury's
consideration of mitigating evidence. Although a “crucial assumption
underlying the system of trial by jury is that parties will follow
instructions given them by the trial judge,” Marshall v. Lonberger,
459 U.S. 422, 438 n. 6, 103 S.Ct. 843, 74 L.Ed.2d 646 (1983); see
Penry, 532 U.S. at 799, 121 S.Ct. 1910 prosecutorial
misrepresentations may have a decisive effect on a jury. Boyde, 494
U.S. at 384-85, 110 S.Ct. 1190; see Penry, 532 U.S. at 799-800, 121
S.Ct. 1910 (finding it logically and ethically impossible for the
jury to follow the jury instructions).
In an instance where prosecutorial statements
allegedly influence a jury's interpretation of the statutory charge,
the proper inquiry is whether there is a reasonable likelihood that
the jury has applied the instructions in a way that prevents it from
considering constitutionally relevant evidence. Boyde, 494 U.S. at
380, 110 S.Ct. 1190. This is particularly true in capital cases
where there is “a strong policy in favor of accurate determination
of the appropriate sentence.” Id.
In this case, reasonable jurists would not debate
the effectiveness of the trial court's statutory charge. In context,
rather than arguing that the jury was precluded from considering
these factors as mitigating circumstances, the prosecutor's
statements could have been interpreted to mean that the jury should
not consider the factors mitigating in O'Brien's case. See Jones v.
Butler, 864 F.2d 348, 360 (5th Cir.1988).
Even if the jury understood the prosecutor's
statements to mean the former, we do not attribute to a prosecutor's
comments the same force as instructions of the court. Boyde, 494 U.S.
at 384-85, 110 S.Ct. 1190.
Reasonable jurists would not *737 disagree that
the prosecutor's statements were not so pervasive as to overcome the
presumption that jurors follow their instructions. See, e.g.,
Richardson v. Marsh, 481 U.S. 200, 211, 107 S.Ct. 1702, 95 L.Ed.2d
176 (1987); United States v. Hopkins, 916 F.2d 207, 218 (5th
Cir.1990).
There is not a reasonable likelihood that the
jury felt precluded from considering constitutionally relevant
evidence. Reasonable jurists would not disagree as to the district
court's resolution and a COA may not issue as to this claim.
C. Would reasonable jurists find it debatable
that introduction of evidence during the punishment phase of trial,
concerning O'Brien's gang affiliation, was harmless?
O'Brien contends this court should grant a COA
because reasonable jurists could debate that his First Amendment
right to freedom of association was not violated when, during
sentencing, the prosecution called Police Officer Knox to testify
about the significance of O'Brien's tattoos. Officer Knox testified
that one of O'Brien's tattoos indicated that O'Brien may be a member
of a gang, and that gangs are generally involved in criminal
activity.
O'Brien relies on Dawson v. Delaware,FN11 to
argue that the introduction of evidence of his gang affiliation
violated his constitutional rights because his gang affiliation had
no bearing on the issue being tried.
FN11. 503 U.S. 159, 112 S.Ct. 1093, 117 L.Ed.2d
309 (1992) (stating that where both parties stipulated to the
defendant's membership in the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang, but the
prosecution offered no evidence of the gang's violent tendencies
relevant to sentencing, the use of that associational evidence
violated the defendant's First Amendment rights).
Finding any possible error harmless, the district
court concluded that the state habeas decision denying relief was
not unreasonable.FN12 The district court first noted that O'Brien's
case fell somewhere between Dawson and Fuller v. Johnson.FN13
The district court observed that a prosecutor can
validly introduce evidence of gang affiliation if it is relevant to
whether the defendant is a future danger. In O'Brien's case, the
state introduced evidence that O'Brien belonged to a gang that was
involved in criminal activity. FN12.
More specifically, the district court stated that
“[t]his case falls somewhere between Dawson and Fuller. ··· While
the facts of this case place it in a somewhat gray area, any error
in admitting this testimony was harmless.” O'Brien v. Dretke, No.
H-02-1865, slip op. at 27 (S.D.Tex. Jan. 14, 2005). FN13. 114 F.3d
491 (5th Cir.1997)(holding that where the State introduced evidence
that the defendant was a member of a gang that had committed
unlawful or violent acts the defendant's First Amendment rights had
not been violated).
Without deciding if the trial court erred by
admitting Officer Knox's testimony, the district court held that any
error in admitting the testimony was harmless. Brecht v. Abrahamson,
507 U.S. 619, 630, 113 S.Ct. 1710, 123 L.Ed.2d 353 (1993)(“[T]here
may be some constitutional errors which in the setting of a
particular case are so unimportant and insignificant that they may,
consistent with the Federal Constitution, be deemed harmless.”) (internal
quotations omitted).
We find that reasonable jurists would not
disagree. As the district court explained, O'Brien was convicted of
an exceedingly brutal rape-murder of a teenage girl. The jury heard
a large amount of evidence establishing O'Brien's long history of
criminality and violence.
Other witnesses, in addition to Officer Knox,
testified regarding O'Brien's gang membership; Chris Rodriguez and
Joe Cantu both testified as to O'Brien's affiliation with gangs.
Furthermore, testimony*738 presented during the
guilt-innocence phase of trial established that the rape and murder
of Jennifer Ertman occurred following the initiation of a new member
into O'Brien's gang. A COA may not issue as to this claim.
D. Would reasonable jurists find it debatable
that O'Brien was not denied due process under Simmons v. South
Carolina?
O'Brien argues this court should grant a COA
because reasonable jurists could debate that he was not denied due
process when the trial court refused to allow the jury to hear that,
if sentenced to life imprisonment, he would be ineligible for parole
for 35 years.
In Simmons, the Supreme Court held that when “the
alternative sentence to death is life without parole ··· due process
plainly requires that [the defendant] be allowed to bring [parole
ineligibility] to the jury's attention by way of argument by defense
counsel or an instruction from the court.” Simmons, 512 U.S. at 169,
114 S.Ct. 2187.
O'Brien concedes that, if sentenced to life
imprisonment, he would have been eligible for parole after 35 years.
However, O'Brien argues that Simmons applies to his case because, at
the time of his conviction, Texas was a de facto life without parole
state.FN14
However, “ Simmons applies only to instances
where, as a legal matter, there is no possibility of parole if the
jury decides the appropriate sentence is life in prison.” Ramdass v.
Angelone, 530 U.S. 156, 169, 120 S.Ct. 2113, 147 L.Ed.2d 125 (2000)(emphasis
added). We have repeatedly rejected claims that Simmons extends to
instances other than where, as a legal matter, there is no
possibility of parole. See Green v. Johnson, 160 F.3d 1029, 1045
(5th Cir.1998) (“[T]he Fifth Circuit has repeatedly refused to
extend the rule in Simmons beyond those situations in which a
capital murder defendant is statutorily ineligible for parole.”).
O'Brien does not fall within the scope of Simmons.FN15 Reasonable
jurists would not disagree with the district court's resolution of
this claim. We will not issue a COA.
FN14. In 2005, the Texas legislature amended the
Texas Code of Criminal Procedure, formally creating life without
parole. SeeTex.Crim. Proc.Code Ann. art. 37.071(2)(e)(2). FN15. The
district court also held that O'Brien was barred from any extension
of Simmons under Teague v. Lane, 489 U.S. 288, 109 S.Ct. 1060, 103
L.Ed.2d 334 (1989).
We find that jurists of reason could not disagree
with district court's resolution of O'Brien's constitutional claims.
We DENY a COA on all claims.