Live blogging from the courtroom.

Kerry Sipe, online news coordinator for The Virginian-Pilot is using wireless technology to file minute-by-minute Weblog updates on court proceedings in the trial of John Allen Muhammad (DC sniper). Something no other reporter in no other medium is doing because cameras are not allowed in the courtroom.

Minority Report

I really wanted Minority Report to be a good movie. Directed by Steven Spielberg…based on short story by Philip K. Dick (as was Blade Runner). What I came away with were some very good scenes that –somehow– just didn’t add up to a great movie.

The doctor that replaced John Anderton’s eyes (“Don’t scratch!”). The scene in the green house with the co-creator of Pre-Crime was fine (the actress also played Helen Hunt’s “Aunt Meg” in Twister). Did you recognize Gideon, the wheel-chair bound jailer? Tim Blake Nelson from O’ Brother Where Art Thou?

Just help me with this… after living in the pool for all those years, why weren’t Agatha’s fingers all wrinkled? I’m gonna rent the DVD in hopes it includes the behind-the-scene I really want to see. When they bring in the chair for Tom Cruise to stand on so he can be eye-to-eye with Max Von Sydow (“Somebody give Mr. Curise a boost up there, will you please?”) Surely they didn’t make Max Von Sydow get on his knees or stand in a hole or something.

I think it’s just very hard to make a good science fiction movie which might be why it’s rarely attempted. Go see Minority Report but stop by Block Buster on the way home and pick up 12 Monkeys.

What did he do?

If Sean Combs makes the leap to actor (or even movie star) you gotta think he’ll drop all the hip-hop shit. “Puff Daddy,” “Puffy,” “P. Diddy”… I mean, the studios aren’t gonna play that game. And I thought he did a nice job in the movie Monster’s Ball. A powerful opening scene in which he says good-bye to his wife (Halle Berry) and his son… a quiet, powerful scene where he sketches his guards… and, finally, his execution in the electric chair.

Days later I found myself wondering, “What did Puffy’s character do to get the chair?” But then, the movie wasn’t about capital punishment, so it really didn’t matter. P. Diddy getting the chair was a necessary plot element and there was no suggestion that he was innocent. Maybe the long, smoking, frying execution scene was simply telling us that lethal injection is more humane. And, having witnessed the execution of James Henry Hampton (March, 2000), I can tell you that it is. Mr. Hampton went very quietly, indeed.

My first thought was to do a Google search for websites dealing with capital punishment in the movies (The Chamber, Dead Man Walking, The Green Mile, I Want to Live, True Crime). I havn’t found such a site yet but remain convinced there has to be one. What I’m wondering is, in how many of those movies, do they show us or tell us the crime for which the condemned is being executed?

I understand that, from an artistic standpoint, the writer or director is under no obligation to provide that background. If you feel that capital punishment is wrong in an of itself, you probably think the crime doesn’t matter. But I’m not sure we can reach morally suportable conclusions about capital punishment without looking squarely at the crime.

I decided to witness the execution of James Henry Hampton, in part, because it seemed like something I should be willing to do if I was going to be part of a society that put certain criminals to death. Doesn’t it follow that those opposed to the death penalty should be willing to visit a fresh crime scene? Step around the fresh blood and talk to the victim’s family? Just once. If you still feel that capital punishment is wrong, fair enough.

Maybe I should cut some slack for the writers and director of Monster’s Ball. The movie is about redemption, not capital punishment. Lawrence Musgrove told his son, “I’m a bad man. Don’t be like me.” And no matter how you feel about capital punishment, the electric chair is a bad way to go.

Ernest Tyler

Ernest Tyler was executed on June 24, 1942, at the Missouri State Penitentiary. He was 37 years old and one 39 people executed by lethal gas between 1938 and 1965. He was convicted and sentenced to death for murder. Missouri switched to lethal injection when executions resumed in 1989 but the gas chamber is still located in a small stone building (called the “Death House”) on the grounds of the Jefferson City Correctional Center in Jefferson City.

Tyler, Ernest, 1948

On a wall outside the gas chamber is a group of photographs of the thirty-eight men –and one woman– that died in the gas chamber. I saw the photographs during a tour of the prison a couple of years ago. I was familiar with prison mug shots from working on a website (Capital Punishment in Missouri) but these images were so different from those of the men currently (or recently) on Missouri’s Death Row (they don’t like to call it that). Nobody seemed to know where the originals of the photographs were. I finally found them in the State Archives and the story of how they got there is interesting.

A former warden –upon retiring– took with him the prison files of those executed in the gas chamber. He was concerned the files, and whatever history they might contain, would be lost or discarded. He kept them at his home for a number of years and then turned them over to the State Archives. Where I found them. I spent several Saturday mornings going through each of the files and photocopying as much as I could afford. Along with the photographs, I found newspaper clippings; letters from the inmates; reports by prison personnel; and a variety of gruesome forms and reports related to the executions.

There was nothing remarkable about Ernest Tyler’s file. I don’t believe his case got much coverage in the press, at least there were no clippings. There was, however, a letter from Tyler to his father, a minister in Kansas City, Missouri. Prison officials apparently kept copies of outgoing correspondence. The letter was dated April 15th and Tyler was scheduled to die on April 24th, nine days later. In it, Tyler pleads with his father to come to Jefferson City to visit him before his execution. The context of the letter suggests (to me) that his father was working on some last-minute appeal to save his son. Or maybe he couldn’t bring himself to see his son on Death Row. We’ll never know. Here’s the letter:

“Hello Dad: How are you and mother today? I am not feeling so well. I received your letter, Dad. I am asking you again to please come down here, and please stop telling me about you are waiting on those papers. You may never hear from them, and when you do it will be too late, I will be looking for you or mother one by Sunday, and tell Mrs. Hill that I am praying and hoping Mr. Hill will get well, and also tell Mr. Hill, that I thank her from my heart for what they have done for me. There are no way that I can really tell her how much I thank her for her work. Dad please do something just once I ask, and not as someone else tell you to do. What I mean about I asked you to get someone to take the case back to court, but you had to go fooling around with Mr. Edon and now I am asking you to come down here and you keep telling me about you are waiting on an answer (from) them papers. Dad you will not know anything about what the Governor is going to do until the last day, which is the 23rd of this month, and on the night of the 23rd of this month I am to go down, then you will not have time to get here. So I will be looking for one of you Sunday if not before. I am writing Maron a letter, please give it to her…

I’ll close for this time, dad looking for you soon, your son,

Ernest Tyler, Hall B.B.”

Nothing in the file indicated whether Reverend Tyler visited his son. I’m guessing he did not.