| Return to Toronto Patterson's Homepage |
Dallas man convicted as 17-year-old murderer executed
Apologetic but maintaining
his innocence, a former teenage drug dealer
was executed Wednesday evening
for killing a 3-year-old cousin at her
Dallas home - 1 of 3 relatives
gunned down so he could steal some fancy
car wheels.
"I am sorry for the pain,
sorry for what I caused my friends, family and
loved ones," Toronto Patterson,
now 24, said while strapped to the death
chamber gurney.
"I feel a great deal of responsibility and guilt for what happened.
"I should be punished for
the crime, but I do not think I should die for
a crime I did not commit."
Patterson said that while
he was sorry, nothing could bring back the
victims and he prayed his
death would bring peace and unite his family.
"I ask for your forgiveness
and that you will all forgive me," he said.
"I invite you all to my
funeral. We are still family."
As the drugs began taking
effect, Patterson exhaled and then gasped. 9
minutes later at 6:20 p.m.
CDT, he was pronounced dead.
Patterson becomes the 23rd
condemned inmate to be put to death this year
in Texas, and the 279th
overall since the state resumed capital
punishment on Dec. 7, 1982.
America has now executed 21 juvenile
offenders since 1985, and
13 of them have been put to death in Texas.
Patterson becomes the 46th
condemned inmate to be put to death this year
in the USA and the 795th
overall since America resumed executions on
January 17, 1977.
(sources: Associated Press
& Rick Halperin)
"If you look into my eyes
you'll see red. Red because of all the tears
caused from so much pain
one has endured. Red for homesick, missing my
loved ones while locked
away. For fear, fear of the unknown, fear of
losing my life at a young
age for something I didn't do. Redness in my
eyes is a sign for the color
I hate, a sign for the natural high I holds
every day. But despites
all the things the redness in my eyes mean,
Through the redness in my
eyes, I still hopes to see a better day." --
Toronto Patterson
Those words might have been
written by an aspiring poet, or a young person
headed for college. But
Toronto Patterson is neither. He is an inmate on
Texas' death row.
Barring intervention from
the courts, state parole board or from Gov. Rick
Perry, Patterson, 24, will
be executed Wednesday. He will be the 3rd
juvenile offender Texas
has put to death in as many months. The others
were Napoleon Beazley, executed
May 28, and T.J. Jones, Aug. 8. Perry and
the Texas Board of Pardons
and Paroles should halt this execution. When
the legislature convenes
in January, it should abolish the death penalty
for 17-year-olds. It is
cruel and unusual punishment to execute people for
crimes they committed as
minors.
Most Texas laws designate
18 as the year of adulthood and 17-year-olds are
considered children in hundreds
of state statutes. But that is not the
case in criminal law, which
treats 17-year-olds as adults, assigning them
the same level of blame
and consequences as adults. That offends common
sense. It is patently unfair
to deem them old enough to die, but too
immature to vote, buy alcohol
or enter contracts.
Surely we can incapacitate teenage offenders without killing them.
In Patterson's case, arguments
for sparing his life go beyond his age.
There are doubts about the
quality of his legal representation by court-
appointed attorneys at his
trial and about whether he committed the
gruesome, execution-style
slayings of a young mother, Kimberly Brewer, and
her 2 daughters, Jennifer
Brewer, 6, and Ollie Brown, 3. Jurors told his
post-conviction attorney,
Gary Hart of Austin, that the case turned on 2
issues: that Patterson had
possession of expensive chrome and gold rims
stolen from a car in Brewer's
garage and his own confession. His
confession was especially
damaging because it was the only direct evidence
that identified Patterson
as the shooter. At trial, Patterson had denied
killing Brewer, a cousin.
Why would he confess to a murder he didn't commit?
Patterson testified that
a police detective coerced him into confessing,
which the officer denied.
But in another, strikingly similar case, the
same detective pressured
a confession from an innocent man, Michael
Martinez, who was older
than Patterson when he "confessed." Ultimately,
Martinez was freed and the
actual killer was found. Martinez was ready to
testify at Patterson's trial
regarding the detective's interrogation
tactics. But a Dallas judge
would not allow the jury to hear the testimony
because it could have impugned
the detective's reputation.
Appellate courts have upheld
the ruling, saying it was within the judge's
discretion to decide whether
to allow Martinez's testimony. Nevertheless,
we believe the judge should
have allowed the testimony, given that
Patterson was fighting for
his life.
We don't believe that the
majority of police officers use coercive tactics
to extract false confessions.
But it does happen. We have only to look at
an Austin case for proof.
Christopher Ochoa's coerced -- and false --
confession to the 1988 murder
of Nancy DePriest put him behind bars for 12
years before DNA evidence
cleared him.
Interrogations should be
videotaped. Juvenile offenders should not be
executed. Patterson should
be spared the needle.
(source: Editorial, Austin
American-Statesman)
Too many children wander their
way into the court system
Aug. 28
Toronto Patterson has known so many people who have died, that he has lost count.
The 24-year-old Dallas native
has been on death row since January 1996.
He arrived there shortly
after his 18th birthday. Because he has been a
model prisoner, he earned
work privileges that allowed him to move about,
cleaning the cells of other
inmates. That is how he met Gary Graham,
Napoleon Beazley, T.J. Jones
and other juvenile offenders who have been
executed.
"I never knew so many people to die until I came to death row," Toronto said last week.
Now, it's his time to die.
He is scheduled to be executed today for a triple murder he says he did not commit.
Toronto will be the 3rd juvenile
offender Texas has executed since May
28. He will be the 5th juvenile
offender put to death in the past two
years. Like the 4 before
him, Toronto is African American. Like the four
before him, he was sentenced
to die by a nearly all-white jury.
It's hard to ignore the racial
disparities of Texas' death row: As of
June, 21 of 29 juvenile
offenders awaiting lethal injection were black
(11) or Latino (10).
I asked Toronto why so many young minorities are on death row.
"When we go to court, we
get court-appointed attorneys," he said.
"Prosecutors make an argument
that our kind is a future danger to society
and make it easy to convince
the jury we deserve death.
"Without good attorneys to
say otherwise, it's easy to fall into this
system of death row."
An inexperienced lawyer failed
to mount a vigorous defense for Toronto
during his trial, said Austin
lawyer Gary Hart, Toronto's post-conviction
lawyer. He didn't raise
Toronto's age as a mitigating factor. "Pitiful,"
is how Hart described the
6-page habeas corpus writ filed in the case.
Habeas documents, which
raise claims of constitutional violations such as
juvenile status, tend to
run more than 100 pages when properly prepared,
Hart said.
By the time Hart was on board,
the legal doors were nearly shut. The
Texas Court of Criminal
Appeals made it quite clear that it would not
authorize money to rework
the case or to hire investigators to re-examine
the case.
To be sure, there are flaws
in the system. And those flaws -- as seen
this week in the case of
Michigan's Eddie Joe Lloyd -- lead to
convictions of innocent
people. Lloyd was convicted of murder largely on
the basis of his confession
-- a confession ultimately proved false. He
was cleared by DNA evidence.
Toronto's case also turns
on a confession, which he says is false.
Toronto said his confession
was coerced by a Dallas police detective. In
court transcripts, the officer,
K.W. Wiginton, denied he pressured the
then-17-year-old to confess.
But court records reveal that another
suspect interrogated by
Wiginton in a separate capital murder case
confessed -- even though
he was innocent. A Dallas judge would not allow
Toronto's jury to hear the
testimony of then 21-year-old Michael Martinez
regarding Wiginton.
Toronto believes that testimony would have made a difference.
He knows the other things
that could have made a difference in his life
-- other things that would
have steered him away from a life of drug
dealing that entangled him
in the criminal justice system. Things like a
father.
"It would have made a difference
having that man figure there, someone to
play basketball and football
with me -- the simple things a father does
in a child's life while
growing up."
Though he was raised by his
mother, she was rarely sober between smoking
"primo" (a combination of
marijuana and crack cocaine) and drinking
alcohol. Toronto turned
to drug dealing -- though he says he didn't use
drugs himself -- to help
pay family bills, to buy cool clothes and to
drive fast, fancy cars.
The money was so good that he dropped out of
school after ninth grade.
It was a drug-related deal
that put Toronto in his cousin's house the day
she and her 2 children were
shot execution-style.
Racial bias aside, it is
this breakdown, this dysfunction of black and
Hispanic families that largely
is responsible for a prison population
that is disproportionately
African American and Latino. Before racism
entered the equation, before
a cop coerced or a predominantly white jury
pronounced Toronto or another
kid "guilty," the damage was done.
Texas is resolving the problem
by locking up our wayward children and
executing them. My question
is, what should be done about the parents?
(source: Editorial, Alberta Phillips, Austin American-Statesman)
Editorial Board
AUSTIN AMERICAN-STATESMAN
Sunday, August 25, 2002
LIVINGSTON -- Toronto Marrkey Patterson is scheduled to
be executed after 6 p.m. Wednesday for a crime committed
when he was 17.
Barring intervention from the courts, state parole board or
from Gov. Rick Perry, Patterson will be the third juvenile
offender Texas has executed this summer. The others were
Napoleon Beazley in May and T.J. Jones earlier this month.
Patterson, 24, was convicted of a brutal slaying -- shooting
his cousin, Kimberly Brewer, and her children, Jennifer
Brewer, 6, and Ollie Brown, 3. All three were shot in the
head.
Despite a confession, Patterson says he is innocent of the
murders. The Dallas native maintains his confession was
coerced by a detective who denied his pleas for a lawyer
and for his grandmother. Patterson's confession was the
only direct evidence identifying Patterson as the shooter.
Prosecutors said Patterson's motive for murdering Brewer
(his cousin) and her children, were three chrome and gold
tire wheels. He was caught trying to sell them. Patterson
gives a different version in which the motive seems to be
drugs. Patterson admits he helped Jamaican drug dealers
who he said were trying to gain entrance to his cousin's
home. But that's where his involvement ended, he says.
In examining his case, it's clear Patterson had poor legal
representation during his trial. In the punishment phase in
particular, issues weren't raised that might have spared
him the death penalty. His lawyers didn't raise his age, 17,
as a mitigating factor.
In 1989, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the death penalty
for juveniles, saying lawyers could educate juries on the
factors that might make juveniles less culpable than adults
and that juries could take those things into account when
sentencing juveniles. That never happened for Patterson.
Character witnesses testified that he wasn't violent or
abusive, but smart and respectful. His lawyers did review
his childhood: a mother who smoked marijuana and drank
alcohol, a father who abandoned him, and a baby sister he
was raising who died of a birth defect when she was 2.
Patterson was 11 at the time.
Patterson is a gifted writer who began writing poetry while
on death row. He has been there for more than six years.
Editorial writer Alberta Phillips interviewed Patterson at the
Polunsky Unit. Excerpts follow below:
American-Statesman: You were a pretty good student in
school, but you dropped out after ninth grade. Why?
Patterson: I began selling drugs for school clothes and
school supplies and everything to try to keep up with
everybody. I'd go years wearing the same school clothes
and everything. In high school, I wanted to kind of keep up,
be accepted. By just keeping up with the everyday fad, I
would be accepted -- clothes, hairstyles, jewelry, whatever. I
started selling drugs to keep up.
How did you get started selling drugs?
My cousin. I was selling drugs for him. In high school, I
moved in with him.
How did your mother feel about your moving in with a
drug dealer?
My mother put me out when I was 14 years old.
Why?
It was already on rocky road since my sister passed. My
sister was born with a hole in her heart. I blamed my
mother for her condition 'cause she was drinking and
smoking marijuana. We got into an argument. She was
pregnant with my brother then. She was still doing some of
the same things (getting high on drugs). And we got in an
argument and she was trying to whip me. . .I got a lot of
whippings with extension cords, sticks, boards, whatever
she could just get her hand on. I was young and I guess
that is the way she tried to discipline me . . .
I did call the police on her -- hoping they would pull up and
kick all that marijuana out and she pregnant and stuff. I was
trying to tell the police on her. She put me out then, when
the police came and she seen that I called.
You were driving fast cars, dealing drugs, living large.
There wasn't much religion in your life. But in your poetry,
you often talk about God. How has faith changed your
life?
From the point I got arrested, my aunt Deirdre talked to me
on the phone. She got me turned on to him. She got me to
understand faith, God and Christ. She got me reading the
Bible. It was hard at first, but she told me to keep praying
and ask God for understanding. I began understanding
what he was saying. Since I been here, I've maintained a
sense of faith and hope and everything and that's what has
pretty much helped me get along . . . That has helped me
maintain my sanity on death row.
That was a pretty terrible crime you were accused of --
killing your cousin and her two young children. Did you do
it?
No.
Why do you think you were blamed?
I had possession of the rims. I was over there that day.
Why did you confess to crime you didn't commit?
Once I was arrested, from that point, he (the detective)
started saying I did it, I'm lying and "you know you did it." I'm
crying and everything and telling him I didn't. I'm asking for a
lawyer, asked to talk to my mother and grandmother.
He kept denying me over and over. I was in that room so
long and didn't know which way was up. He was telling me
what I did. The way he said I was going to be able to talk to
someone . . . was once I told him what he wanted to hear . .
. So I told him, so I would be able to go to the judge and let
him know how he did me in that room and stuff. But I found
out later, it wasn't like that.
How did you start writing?
I wanted to say, talk, I just wanted to say and speak so
much stuff. I needed adequate legal representation to help
represent me on death row. Maybe my writing would help to
save my life.
So would you prefer to live life in prison without parole
than to be executed?
That's -- that's a question. If I had to live life without parole in
prison, yes, I'd live it. I believe I could make a difference
from within the prison in people's lives and everything. I
think I'm ready to live it.
How could you make a difference?
I have seen that I (have) been an inspiration in many
people's lives through writing, through things I say, through
my faith. I could show people many different ways -- ropes
in life . . . like my little brother, ropes of life -- no that's the
wrong way, don't do it like that. Continue to go to school,
football practice, nevermind (my mother), go stay with
grandmama.
Who will come to watch your execution?
I don't know. No one may be there. My grandmother, she
may not come at all next week because it's too much on
her. I just put some people down (on the list), my auntie,
mother and uncles, but I doubt anyone will come. They have
said in so many words, it's too much -- they don't want to
just be there.
Will you have a last meal, if it comes to that?
I told them what I would like, but I doubt very seriously I
would be able to eat it. My nerves would be messing with
me.
What would you like?
Six pieces of fried chicken; chef salad; a Sprite soda; a slice
of cake.
Are you afraid to die?
I'm not scared of death because it's promised to us all. But
I'm scared to die right now. I feel like it's not my time -- not
my time. God says there's a way for us, a way and how for
us all -- right? This ain't God's will. The state will kill me on
Aug. 28. If I die then, the state will kill me.
(New York, August 1, 2002)
- Texas should halt the executions of two
juvenile offenders scheduled
for this month, Human Rights Watch urged today.
The first of the two executions,
that of T.J. Jones, is scheduled for
August 8. Jones was convicted
in 1994 of a murder committed in the
course of a carjacking when
he was 17. Because he has asked his attorney
not to pursue further appeals
or seek clemency, his execution next week
is all but certain.
Toronto Patterson, the second
juvenile offender scheduled for execution
this month, was also convicted
of murder at the age of 17. His death
sentence will be carried
out on August 28 unless he is granted a reprieve.
Texas executes far more juvenile
offenders than any other state. Of the
19 juvenile offenders put
to death nationwide since 1976, when
executions resumed after
a three-year moratorium, 11 were from Texas.
The most recent execution
was that of Napoleon Beazley, who was put to
death in May despite pleas
for clemency by the judge who presided over
his trial and Archbishop
Desmond Tutu, among others.
Just six other states have
carried out such executions in the past 26
years. Of those states,
only Virginia has executed more than one
juvenile offender. Virginia
has put three juvenile offenders to death,
two in 2000 and one in 1998.
Even in Texas, lawmakers
are having second thoughts about allowing
juvenile offenders to be
put to death. In the last legislative session,
a measure that would have
risen the minimum age for capital punishment
to 18 passed in the Texas
House of Representatives and would have been
approved by the state Senate
if Gov. Perry had not threatened to veto it.
Indiana abolished the death
penalty for juvenile offenders this year,
and Montana did the same
in 1999. Similar measures are being considered
in at least nine other states:
Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, Florida,
Kentucky, Mississippi, Missouri,
Pennsylvania and South Carolina.
"Texas is out of step with
the rest of the country," said Michael
Bochenek, counsel to the
Children's Rights Division of Human Rights
Watch. "Instead of going
forward with these executions, it's time for
the state to rethink this
barbaric practice."
In a related case in June,
the U.S. Supreme Court found that the
execution of offenders with
mental retardation was unconstitutional,
reasoning that a national
consensus had developed against it. The Court
noted that 18 states and
the federal government prohibited such
executions.
Sixteen states and the federal
government set 18 as the minimum age for
the death penalty. Another
12 states do not permit capital punishment
under any circumstances.
The rising number of states
that bar the execution of juvenile offenders
and the rarity of such executions
in states that do permit them makes it
likely that the court will
address the issue in the near future.
In fact, U.S. Supreme Court
Justice John Paul Stevens told a gathering
of federal judges in July
that the execution of juvenile offenders could
be the next major capital
punishment issue decided by the Supreme Court.
Stevens was the author of
the court's ruling on the execution of persons
with mental retardation.
Elsewhere in the world, only
Congo and Iran are known to have executed
juvenile offenders in the
last three years. Each now explicitly
repudiates the practice,
making the United States the only country that
continues to claim the legal
authority to execute juvenile offenders.
Human Rights Watch opposes
the death penalty under all circumstances
because of its inherent
cruelty.
Related Material:
The Death Penalty in the
United States of America
Human Rights Watch Death
Penalty Campaign available online at:
http://www.hrw.org/campaigns/deathpenalty/
Human Rights Watch letter
to Texas parole board
August 1, 2002 available
online at:
http://hrw.org/press/2002/08/texas0801-ltr.pdf
Juvenile Death Penalty--Toronto
Patterson
American Bar Association
available online at:
http://www.abanet.org/crimjust/juvjus/patterson.html
Focus on Capital Punishment:
Juvenile Death Penalty
Project for the Advancement
of International Human Rights Law,
Washington College of Law,
American University Available online at:
http://www.wcl.american.edu/humright/deathpenalty/juveniles.html
EUROPE DEMANDS IMMEDIATE HALT IN EXECUTION OF TEENS
The State of Texas has again
decided to execute two more juveniles in the
month of August. Both were
convicted and sentenced at the age of 17 years
old.
The Texas State Government
and the Texas Court system not only continue
to defy the international
prohibition against executing juveniles by the
civilized nations of the
world but as Texans, but they take pride in
their belief that juvenile
offenders are never susceptible to
rehabilitation and therefore
should be murdered by the state in order to
protect society. They believe
deeply in the concept of youthful criminals
being unalterably possessed
by evil. It is a vestigial remnant from the
dark ages.
Toronto Patterson, however,
is not a criminal. He is an innocent man.
Toronto Patterson is scheduled
to be put to death on August 28, 2002. He
is now 25 years old.
There are legitimate issues
of actual innocence which have never been
addressed by the courts.
The crime has never been properly investigated.
And there is strong evidence
that his confession was coerced by a corrupt
police detective who has
established a reputation for coerced confessions
in other cases.
The details of Toronto's
case are available on the Internet at
www.oranous.net/toronto/facts.html
His attorney, J. Gary Hart,
is preparing an appeal for clemency to the
Governor and the Texas Board
of Pardons and Paroles.
The Board very seldom has
ever
recommended clemency and
the present Governor, Rick Perry, has never
granted clemency.
This is the time for clemency,
Texas.
Toronto Patterson was an
exceptionally bright student in school and he is
a stable, intelligent young
man. He is also an eloquent writer and a
poet.
"The time has come for trial,
When others will sit and
decide
What to do with your life,
Just as you finally realize,
Life is real."
And:
"If you look into my eyes,
you'll see red,
.........Red for Fear..........
Fear of losing my life at
a young age,
For something I did not
do."
Those are the words of the young man Texas is executing.
For further information please
contact hartjg@aol.com or
johnpizer@juno.com .
| Return to Toronto Patterson's Homepage |
