"The release raises the possibility that Mr. Killen, 80 and in poor health, will die a free man after serving barely six weeks of his sentence," writes New York Times reporter Shaila Dewan.
Dewan continues with Judge Gordon's rationale and Rita Schwerner Bender's incisive response, which gets to the crux of the matter:
Judge Marcus Gordon of Circuit Court, who gave Mr. Killen the maximum possible sentence, said in court that he had little choice but to set bond while Mr. Killen appealed his conviction. Judge Gordon said the state had not proved that Mr. Killen, who uses a wheelchair, was a flight risk or threat.
"It's not a matter of what I feel, it's a matter of the law," Judge Gordon said.
Rita Bender, wife of Mr. Schwerner, said the judge had not considered the danger to the community in the broader sense.
"To me this indicates a lack of understanding the seriousness of, and conveying the seriousness of, crimes of racial violence," Ms. Bender said by telephone from Seattle, where she lives.
Mr. Killen's release, she said, increases "the risk of violence by people who get the message once again that there is no control over them" (emphasis added).
Ms. Bender's critique is further supported by experts who say
Mississippi law is not crystal clear on when a judge has to grant bail. The law says a person convicted of any felony other than child abuse, sexual battery of a minor or a crime in which a death sentence or life imprisonment is imposed is entitled to be released on bail pending appeal if the convict shows that he is not a flight risk or a danger.
The statute also says the convict is entitled to release "within the discretion of a judicial officer," and "only when the peculiar circumstances of the case render it proper."
District Attorney Mark Duncan made the literal minded argument that Killen himself is a physical threat, though disabled and elderly.
On Friday, the prosecution called two jailers who testified about a remark Killen made.
When asked by jailers whether he had any suicidal thoughts, the part-time preacher told them, "I'll kill you before I kill myself,' " Neshoba County jailer Kenny Spencer testified.
Fellow jailer Willie Baxter corroborated his account, and both testified they believed the remark was a threat.
Asked about the remark, Killen replied, "I didn't make the comment."
But if he did, he said, "It'd have to be joking. I don't do those things."
If Killen did level a threat, it wouldn't be the first time. In 1975, a Newton County jury convicted him of making a threat over the telephone.
Duncan introduced Killen's indictment and conviction to show Killen poses a threat. He quoted from Killen's threat: "That son of a b---- will be dead by 8 o'clock. ... I like revenge."
After that conviction in 1975, Killen called and threatened the jury foreman, according to a Newton County official.
Duncan argued Killen has shown a pattern of behavior throughout the years of threats and inciting violence.
Reader Ann Williams, member of the Mississippi Democratic Club, wrote in to alert me that, according to Jackson, Mississippi's WLBT TV,
[n]o one with the Attorney General's office was in Gordon's courtroom Friday, but the office issued a statement saying, "We are in the process of looking at our options and considering filing a request with the appellate court for extraordinary relief."
"I find that quite troubling and curious. He was there for the trial and media attention," Ann Writes. Though it may not have been procedurally necessary for Hood's office to be represented in the courtroom, it definitely behooved him to attend. This is the same Attorney General who declared in his closing statement at the trial that he was in court on his daughter's second birthday because
this is where justice is done. . . .
I wanted to be here myself, I didn't want to have any regrets. That I did my duty to the victims and their families.
While the international news media was in Philadelphia for the trial, Hood made personal sacrifices because of his commitment to seeing justice done. Now the press corps is gone and so is Hood's sense of "duty to the victims and their families."
At the bond hearing, Killen spent a lot of time complaining about his discomfort in prison.
Mr. Killen took the stand, complaining of a lack of medical care since he entered the Central Mississippi prison in Pearl, though he acknowledged that he had been seen by doctors.
"They checked me through the line like a cattle auction," he said. "I'm very unhappy with the treatment I've received. . . ."
Mr. Killen said he had to bribe a convict to obtain a pillow.
"I can barely sleep," he said. "I still don't understand how I could lie in severe pain for 24 hours and no one even brings me an aspirin. I'm not a drug addict."
My heart really goes out to the poor, old, grandfatherly Klansman. Though I am not moved, Killen may have meant his moaning and groaning to pull at Judge Gordon's heart strings. Remember, before Killen knew Marcus Gordon in his professional capacities as prosecutor and then judge, Gordon knew Killen in his capacity as preacher:
Gordon grew up in Union, the youngest of three sons born to Benton and Flossie Gordon. His dad was a barber, his mom a factory worker.
He lost both parents within 24 hours, in 1965. His mom died of a brain hemorrhage. While he and his brothers were picking out her gravesite, Benton Gordon died of congestive heart failure.
Killen, a preacher, presided over the funerals (emphasis added).
It might just have broke Judge Gordon's heart to hear his dear, family preacher, there for them in their time of need, complain about the hardships of prison life.
At the 41st Annual Chaney, Schwerner, Goodman Memorial, held on on the land of civil rights pioneers Cornelius and Mable Steele, Bernice Sims, who was one of the last people to see the three civil rights workers alive, asked, "why don't the families of the killers ever get the spotlight? Why don't we know who they are?" This time around we know who some of them are:
The Neshoba County circuit clerk's office said the following helped Killen post bond: his brother, Bobby, Frank Richardson, Ray and Jean Hamil and Henry and Marcia Bassett. Henry Bassett testified Friday he didn't believe Killen posed a danger to flee or a threat to the community.
Several dozen friends and family packed one side of the courtroom to Killen and warmly greeted him after the judge gave him bond. Asked what he thought of Killen's release, Henry Bassett replied, "I'm not the judge. We have an almighty judge. I'm going to go with God's laws."
These are the people who have $600,000 on hand to keep white, racist murderers out of prison. Of course these folks are just the tip of the iceberg—the white power structure that generally keeps white, racist murders out of prison, free of charge.
Killen swore him into the Klan in March 1964 at Cash Salvage Store in Meridian, testified Dennis, a Klansman-turned-FBI informant. "He said there would be things that the Klan would need to do and would do and among those would be the burning crosses, people would need to be beaten and occasionally there would have to be elimination."
Recent Comments