Tookie's Execution
For the third time, I made my way to San Quentin for another execution. Previously, I had been to see Donald Beardslee executed in January and a year prior was there to help save Kevin Cooper's life. But neither of those experiences could prepare me for what I saw last night.
I arrived around 8:15 and parked about a mile away. Right when I stepped out of the car with a few others from UCB, an older man in a minivan came up to us and asked us if we wanted a ride to near the entrance. About eight of us piled in. He explained that he had a bad leg and couldn't walk up the hill, so instead, he was going to shuttle people from their cars to where the police had setup a barricade near the entrance.
When I got near the entrance, I was amazed at the turnout. It already appeared that nearly 1,000 people were there, including many other UCB students (who might otherwise be studying for finals). I saw a few pro-death penalty hecklers had shown up, but were quickly surrounded by "security" who made sure that they were drowned out by chants.
For the next four hours, I just sat by and listened to the speakers, while the crowd swelled in size. People just kept coming - including Sean Penn who stood behind me. Around 11:30, people started to get a bit nervous. At that point the reality really set in for me that Stan was going to die. I think I had a whisper of hope that maybe, just maybe, something would happen and he would not be killed.
Midnight passed and most of the crowd, which was easily 2000, remained silent. It was surreal seeing so many people come out and pay their respects.
By 12:30, people accepted that Tookie was now dead. Most of us chanted and remained vigilant, as we knew that this was a fight that would have its defeats, but one that we would continue. By about 1 the crowd started to disperse Someone started burning an American flag and I was convinced that it was indeed time to leave.
The ride back to Berkeley was silent. The four others in the car were tired like me, but we were also confronted with the inescapable reality that a reformed man was just killed. Nothing seemed that important in comparison to the atrocity that we had just been a couple hundred feet from.
Almost a day later, I feel the same. More so, I really wonder what was gained from killing Tookie. Did it send some sort of a message? The only message I see is that people shouldn't renounce their past and reform themselves.
I arrived around 8:15 and parked about a mile away. Right when I stepped out of the car with a few others from UCB, an older man in a minivan came up to us and asked us if we wanted a ride to near the entrance. About eight of us piled in. He explained that he had a bad leg and couldn't walk up the hill, so instead, he was going to shuttle people from their cars to where the police had setup a barricade near the entrance.
When I got near the entrance, I was amazed at the turnout. It already appeared that nearly 1,000 people were there, including many other UCB students (who might otherwise be studying for finals). I saw a few pro-death penalty hecklers had shown up, but were quickly surrounded by "security" who made sure that they were drowned out by chants.
For the next four hours, I just sat by and listened to the speakers, while the crowd swelled in size. People just kept coming - including Sean Penn who stood behind me. Around 11:30, people started to get a bit nervous. At that point the reality really set in for me that Stan was going to die. I think I had a whisper of hope that maybe, just maybe, something would happen and he would not be killed.
Midnight passed and most of the crowd, which was easily 2000, remained silent. It was surreal seeing so many people come out and pay their respects.
By 12:30, people accepted that Tookie was now dead. Most of us chanted and remained vigilant, as we knew that this was a fight that would have its defeats, but one that we would continue. By about 1 the crowd started to disperse Someone started burning an American flag and I was convinced that it was indeed time to leave.
The ride back to Berkeley was silent. The four others in the car were tired like me, but we were also confronted with the inescapable reality that a reformed man was just killed. Nothing seemed that important in comparison to the atrocity that we had just been a couple hundred feet from.
Almost a day later, I feel the same. More so, I really wonder what was gained from killing Tookie. Did it send some sort of a message? The only message I see is that people shouldn't renounce their past and reform themselves.
posted by ajit at
1:06 AM
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