Marcus' pen-pal request :
It is easy for a man to cry out for retribution, until he himself has to walk in the shoes of the one being punished. I caution you ! Further reading will result in perceptual disturbance.
My name is Marcus. Marcus Cargle.
My podium is a small, concrete, windowless cell. I'm buried alive.
Literally. I claw against the walls of my coffin until my nails bleed.
In the darkness my moans are no longer controllable.
And in that breech of security, I'm forced
to listen to my cries and its echoes. The effects are psychologically
dismantling. Whatever pillow of strength you manage to smuggle inside the
walls and confines of death row will inevitably crumble. Then you
realize what a hot commodity sanity has become. Its scarce and infrequent.
I personally watched sanity divorce its reasoner. Only to have a man
I befriended stare at me blankly without recognition. AS if the fire
of his very essence had been extinguished. My God ! As strong
as the need for fellowship may be, I strongly advise against. I rebuke
it even. That way when daytime ushers in nightfall to make for midnight,
and a commotion began to flourish (tell - tale signs of an execution) the
impact will be survivable. Whatever judicial vehicle used to transport
you here, whether it was an innocent wrongfully convicted, or the guilty pleading
to such, the death penalty and its housing units' are unconscionably horrid.
Its remarkable in the extreme. Your arrival will result in your disconnection
from anything vital. Inmate relationships with family and loved ones
will become inconsiderable. Visitations are privileged and impersonal.
You'll starve for intellectual stimulation and contract the disease diagnosed
as "Physical Deterioration".
I suffer from infrequent episodes of claustrophobia. I'm suffocating in here. I don't want to die ! Tell death to quit stalking me ! It's insistent and evasive. At night it comes for those who've exhausted their appeals. I close my eyes and hope that if I don't see it's face, maybe it'll leave me alone.
Not to many people walk away from death row. It's adamant in it's slaughter. But still my belongings are neatly packed away. Somehow I will escape its clutches ! I'm one appeal away from exoneration. If one day you see me and I'm still in shackles, I beg of you let me be. Do not interfere in what you do not understand. What if they forgot to uncuff me ? Maybe they left them on to use me as a deterrent to those around me ? The anguish and torment this place has inflicted upon me is indelible. I'm incessantly handcuffed to it, tragedies and irritable memories of the executions and those executed and how close I came to being exterminated. If indeed I am truly spared.
" READ IT AND WEEP ! "
Dear Reader,
I haven't much time; but
while an opportunity has surfaced I have taken full advantage of it
in order to get a message
to you. Chances are, you don't know me. A brief introduction will
inform you that my name
is Marcus Cargle. I'm 26 years old. I'm currently being held prisoner
on McAlester's death row
where I await execution for two counts of murder of which I
emphatically declare my
innocence! Many people whom I've occasionally took solace in the
fallacy that I was dcelivered
to - and tried before - members of my peers, and therefore the
conviction and sentence
must have been warranted. I submit to you that not one single juror
was of my station and thus
could hardly be considered my peers. And secondly, members of
the jury were grossly misinformed
by a malign district attorney who intentionally withheld
critical evidence that would
have polarised my innocence before the entire court house.
In the Summer of 1993,
I had returned from Hollywood, California, at which I was negotiating
a very lucrative record
deal with affiliates from 'Jive Records'. A week later, upon making
preparations to return to
Hollywood, I suffered a most unfortunate accident. I inadvertently ran
through the glass window
of a restaurant upon which I received numerous lacerations; on the
face, legs, left and right
hands. Tendons in my right hand were severed completely. I underwent immediate
reconstructive surgery to try to repair the damage. It was to little avail.
Seven years later (presently)
there's a six inch scar across my right hand and signs of
arthritis. Show dates were
cancelled due to my inability to hold a microphone or perform
simple everyday functions.
In the month of November,
1993, a criminal complaint was filed against me for two counts of
murder in the first degree.
The indictment was for the murder of a North Carolina couple that
had tragically occurred
two months earlier in the month of September. I retained private
counsel by the name of Michael
Gassaway. Known for his quick wit and brilliance in criminal
law I gathered that he would
encounter little difficulty in proving my innocence. Upon accepting my case
and his retainers fee he assured me of an acquittal and that he would assidiously
apply himself to my cause. In the month of February 1994 the District Attorney's
Office filed the 'bill of particulars' in my case. They were seeking the death
penalty. I was an inmate at the Oklahoma County Jail for seven months.
That period advanced and past with the briefest communications between me
and my lawyer, Michael Gassaway. I notioned it was due to his diligent investigations
and preparations into my case; retaining medical records, sworn
statements, and so forth.
After all, my life was at stake. But unbeknown to me, the IRS
(Internal Revenue Service)
had filed Federal Indictment Charges for tax evasion against
Michael Gassaway. The seven
months in which he had to prepare for my trial, he spent
preparing for his own.
The day came forward on
which trial was scheduled. Bob Macy, District Attorney, political
opportunist, arrived at
trial with his assistant, Fern Smith, with boxes of manipulated evidence.
Gassaway arrived toting
a yellow legal pad which he delivered to me as I sat at the defence
table and instructed me
to take notes. 'Take notes of what?' I inwardly panicked. I have no
working knowledge of the
law. Seven days later the jury pronounced me guilty and fixed my
punishment at death. Gassaway
was later sent to a federal institution for tax evasion.
I am now an inmate at
the Oklahoma State Penitentary in the super high max H-Unit where
the death row inmates are
held and executed. Immediately after the inmate has exhausted
his appeals an execution
date is set. The inmate is moved into an isolated hold-over cell
where all contact is restricted
with the exception of his spiritual advisors. His attorney will race
about filing motions making
last ditch efforts to save their clients life. The probability has
dawned upon him that he
will be executed. Shortly, his delusion of reprieve is brief. Then
vacancy sets in. Later that
night he is murdered. In order to escape the threat of insanity I
assiduously took to studying
French, psychology, philosophy, Greek philosophy, English and
American literature, and
most importantly, criminal law. I since came to learn that amongst
other things my counsel,
Michael Gassaway, rendered be ineffective assistance. Actually, he
delivered no assistance.
He left me alone to challenge the cultivated mind of the District
Attorney. According to the
US Constitution I am guaranteed adequate representation by a
competent counsel to assist
me with my endeavor to save my life. I was denied such.
Combine these unfortunalities
with the grossly misinformed jury, the malign District Attorney/
political opportunist, my
chances on prevailing stood as a ridiculous hoax. And now I stand
in a long line rapidly moving
by the pull of the executions. I did not murder anyone. I am
innocent! I never underwent
a fair trial owed to me. Instead I was ushered out back and tried
in the dark and stand to
be executed for something I vow my innocence against. But I have
something beter than my
word should you feel inclined to accept it. Legal documents,
affidavits. This endeavour
I'm engaged in to save my life is ridiculously greater than I.
So many organizations oppress
me. I have but very little resource.
Through this internet service I am able to reach you. Thank God for technology!
I need your support. Please,
help me. Or you'll leave me to perish as many men before me who may as well
been innocent. 'Evil happens when the good do nothing!'
How you may be able to assist me:
1 If you are affiliated with the media, I need exposure: local, global, whatever.
2 I
need support; people to join me in my cause so that we may become a stronger,
formidable collective body.
3 I need financial contributions, large or small.
4 I
need individuals, firms, organisations, who have an in-depth knowledge in
criminal law to work with my attorney 'Jack
Fisher' in his adventure to save an innocent man.
Marcus Cargle
# 202365
Po Box 97
McAllister
Oklahoma, 74502
U S A
Marcus' pen-pal request :
I'm writing from death row in Mc Alester.
Oklahoma. My Name is Marcus Cargle. I Was twenty years of age when
I first arrived. That was a little over five years ago. I am now twenty-five.I
hope the declarations of my innocence doesn't cause you any disinterest
because I truly am.
Right now my case is currently being considered
by the Federal courts. My lawyers and I are very optimistic that I'll be exonerated.
But that isn't the nature of this letter. Here recently the death penalty
and it's unconstitutionality's have been met with increasing controversy.
With the release of the numerous
inmates from Chicago's death row, as well
as those in the state of Oklahoma.. and many others, the death penalty in
America is causing indigestion. The idea that either one of these
men who where proven to be innocent could have been wrongfully executed is
indeed disturbing. It not only suggest that we take
a closer look at our legal system, but that
we take a closer look at ourselves. It's unconscionable
that poverty or a misinformed jury can deliver a man to his executioner.
It becomes less despicable and easier to tolerate to offer hollow
retorts such as "well. he was judged by twelve of his peer's. The people
is then rewarded with a sense of duty and patriotism to rid themselves of
yet another convicted murderer. They seem to go about
their lives without regret or disruption. Who would be concerned with the
fate of a murderer but the hangman who would gain his fee ? Despite the fact
that the men they
convicted and elected for execution is being
completely exonerated of the charges and complaints brought against them.
My mother is aging with worry. Maternal instincts demand that she take action
but finds herself restrained by disinclusionary legal procedures.
The fate of her son will be decided by people
who don't know him. If they knew him,
they would know that he is incapable of performing
such evils. So she turns to a higher power and prays for deliverance.
And I'll pray that it comes before exhaustion stamps my appeals. The
long line of condemned men ahead of me is shrinking. In
fact, I've been
moved tragically and considerably ahead.
This letter was written in a hurried fashion because time has turned
it's back on me. If I have evoked any measure of interest then I beseech
that you contact me at the below address.
Yours truly, Marcus.
Marcus Cargle #202365
PO Box 97
McAlester, OK
74502
USA
The CCADP offers free webpages to over 500 Death Row Prisoners
Contact us for more information.
info@ccadp.org
"The Eyes Of The World Are Watching Now"