Stories categorized “Death penalty”:

The deathrow lawyer from Wolverhampton

Published December 1993.

The Pope does not often speak up for convicted killers. But earlier this year, he joined Vaclav Havel, Bishop Desmond Tutu, Jesse Jackson, Harry Belafonte, Danny Glover, Kenny Rogers, every Catholic Bishop in the state of Texas, the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People and a world-wide campaign by Amnesty International in pleading for the life of a young black man on Death Row in Texas.

A lifeline on Death Row

Published September 1991.

Jane Officer did not think much of her driver. He was playing redneck country music on his radio, he had a big belly, untidy grey hair, a mouth full of chewing gum and he was determined to inflict his opinions on her.

The town that loved lynching

Published April 1989.

The Scotsman April 1989 The old sheriff of Montgomery County, Ben Hicks, had an answer for everything. A black man had just been burned alive in front of his office in the courthouse square in the middle of Conroe while a crowd of hundreds of white men, women and children looked on. The sheriff himself […]

Searching for justice

Published February 1989.

Mail on Sunday magazine February 1989 Grundy is a small colourless town in the bleak backwoods of Virginia down by the border with Tennessee, a poor town where most of the men have “black lung” from working down the coal mine and almost everybody is just about everybody else’s cousin. There was a murder here, […]

Death of a legal legend

Published September 1988.

The Scotsman and the New Zealand Dominion September 5 1988 The last time I saw the greatest criminal trial lawyer in the world, he was laid out on his sofa like a fallen tree, all six foot four of him, with his huge grey head hoisted up on two white satin pillows and his black […]

The man who saves lives on Death Row

Published June 1988.

The Scotsman and the New Zealand Dominion June 13 1988 Jim McCloskey’s journey to death row began in the suburbs of Philadelphia nine years ago. He was then a successful management consultant, aged 37, with a comfortable home, an air-conditioned Lincoln Continental and a fat monthly pay cheque, and yet he was troubled. One Monday […]

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