The Executioner's Song (118 page)

And aimed it at Shep’s faithful head

But I just couldn’t do it, oh, I wanted to run,

And wished they would shoot me instead.

Now, Old Shep, he knew he would go,

He looked and licked at my hand,

He stared up at me, just as much as to say,

“We’re parting, but you’ll understand.”

Now O/d Shep, he has gone where the good doggies go,

And no more with Old Shep will I roam,

But if dogs have a heaven, there’s one thing I know,

Old Shep has a wonderful home.

“Yuck,” said Gary.

“That’s all for today,” said Vein. “That’s as good as you deserve.”

The Legal Defense Fund of the NAACP made available a lawyer in

Washington named John Shattuck. He was going to present a petition for Athay to the United States Supreme Court. After the loss,

therefore, in Judge Lewis’s Court on Saturday afternoon, Athay’s

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THE EXECUTIONER’S SONG h,p>

office dictated a brief over the telephone. On sunday it was carried by Shattuck to the Supreme Court, and filed.

,, , in the evemng D. ‘ “‘erk of the t:our’,,,, ‘ nt v:,, e in to Athay from ttae. uotation: 1%o.I

a ohone cal ,-?-” a-fs d the toIlOWU, - , ,aiO”, , “, ,- ..,,ice White nau eltu, e . - ,, sau tat t .,,- , j lOOaK., . ju,.* ‘ a-dt:lttt . I arn attttorlzcu ” L,.- ssla

hcat for stay s a , Bryr R. Wme, y ccur n u , ….

collgues

rice.”

See the decision w couldn°t unimouS,find the dghtShattuck°n

preach her Justices. If one mopltuni”

side, he ght grant a Stay. hat would we an

one’s guents.

. .

az’.

been presented to me, ater its

Harry . Blackmun, Assiate Justice, January 6, t977.

Justice Brenn had not been concted. e Whgton that ff Aay we to cl d situation, it ght have impact. Justice Brenn had shO tions favorable to cases he this. So AaY pod wi phone number, phoned peon-tpeon, d a voice sd, “s is Justice Bre speg.” Athay had intruc mself d sd, “I’m volved the G when “Oh, mY,” he hed on the other end, d a the c ag. He could swe the se voice ce on to so, he’s out of wn.” He felt aa. He ew, ever know br certn whether he’d reached Justice

Athay had now exhausted eye,thing he could do

3

nda morning and Sunday

xllaltina rough SU
,,,ed to the wllp>

….. ‘ .. ,.,a a list of questions pa, there,

def. Schiller ha,, and he wasn’t

telephone. If Gilmore called again,

take the call, or ff Barry was also out, orte of the girls would talk. The questions were ready. You didn’t have to hem and haw, or conceal identities. Gary understood they were ha a countdown.

All the same, Schiller was depressed. The high ambitions he had had for this interview were by now pretty thoroughly defeated. Mikal had left U tab, and with him had gone Schiller’s best chance to get a few last-minute insights to Gary. He felt as ff he had lost contact. Who could believe Gary would have gotten so angry about Moyers? When Mikal threatened to be a major Obstacle to the execution, Gary must have set out to neutralize him. tecame the big brother Mikal had never seen. The role had gotten too good. Gary was carrygag on as if Schiller had really violated him. After all, belief in your own role was crucial to a hustle. But Schiller felt it was a steep price to pay..

Moody tdephoned from the prison, “You’re going to get a call from the Warden.” he told Schiller. “You are going to see the execution.” Though the news had been in the papers, L’y had not yet received official word. So he was worried. If Sam Smith refused him at the gate, there would have to be last-minute legal maneuvers. The statutes might be all on his side, but Such a situation would still be horrendous with tension.

In five minutes, the phone rang again. Deputy Warden Hatch was saying, “Warden Smith has asked me to advise you to apPear tomorrow morning at six AM. at the prison gate with no cameras and no recording devices, if you wish to witness the execution of Gary Mark Gilmore.” Schiller said, “Thank you. Will you please deliver this message to the Warden. The statement I made to Gus Sorensen is correct. I do not intend to violate any rules and regulations that he has set up. Please assure him that I will conduct nayself in the manner in which he would want me to conduct myself.”

In that last phone call with Moody, he had been told that Gary wanted liquor brought in, and they had discussed how to do it.

Schilier told Debbie to go to the Pharmacy and buy a couple of curved bottles. “If the pharmacy doesn’t have them for sale,” he told her, “just buy cough syrup, and pour it out.”

Debbie wanted to know why the bottles had to be curved. He had to explain they were like a hip flask, and made less of a bulge under your coat. Then he decided the amount would be insufficient, so he sent Tamera over to Western Airlines to purchase, if she could, some i Y2-ounce bottles of the sort they served on airplanes. In Utah, however, Western wouldn’t go near liquor on Sunday. He called the Hilton and found out they didn’t sell or serve until late that day. Finally, he heard of one Salt Lake bar where individual-drink bottles were sold, so he had Tamera call the Deseret News to send somebody over. Schiller figured they’d call a high-level meeting about it.

Meanwhile, Tamera had come to feel sentimental about getting this liquor to Gary. Of course, by now, everybody was liking him. Even the people that didn’t like him, liked him.

Schiller could smell it in the air. Everybody was starting to think, What are we killing Gilmore for? What’s the death going to accomplish?

Breslin was walking around the office, cursing up a streak, “How dare they shoot the fucking guy, these fucking people?” Breslin was even furious at Gilmore for wanting to be offed.

Larry decided to relax at the Xerox machine. It was agreeable to work at some mechanical activity. Then, Tamera came up to say her newspaper wouldn’t go for the liquor. “I don’t care who does it,” said Schiller, “get somebody.” Tamera called Cardell, who had to be one of the most active Mormons in Salt Lake, and would you believe it, he… agreed to go over and get it as a Christian act? Thought a dying man ought to be able to have his last request. That was somethin Tamera’s brother was straight arrow like you wouldn’t believe.

Schiller called Stanger, and asked, “Will the Warden let me see Gary before the execution?” When Stanger said he didn’t know Larry called the prison. The Warden still wouldn’t talk to him. let told himself, “If they do change their mind, I want to be right the front door.”

Now, he studied the prison plan for the media, and decided was very professional. “I don’t believe the Warden made this out,”

SUNDAY MORNING, SUNDAY AFTERNOON
895p>

said aloud. It was just too sensible. Through the night, public announcements would be made every thirty minutes on the speaker, and a prison representative would come out frequently to talk to the reporters. A few minutes after the execution, the Warden would make a statement. Ten minutes after that, the press would be allowed to visit the site. It showed a knowledge of how to handle the media that had not been evident before. The very layout of the language intrigued Schiller. He said to himself, “I now have a match for my intelligence,” and had one of his Dream-theImpossible-Dream ideas. Maybe he would yet meet the aflthor of this plan tonight and be able to explain why they should let him in to talk to GAIT. “Yes,” he said to himself, “I’m going to enter now as a member of the press.”

Of course, he had made plans for such a contingency. John Durniak, the picture editor at Time, had told him he could use Time credentials if he wished. Lawrence Schiller, Witness to the Execution, who would not be allowed into the prison until 6:30 A.M., was now ready to enter at 6 P.M., better than twelve hours earlier, with his new press pass as Lawrence Schiller, accredited to Time magazine.

At least an hour before six, Schiller didn’t feel like waiting around Orem any longer, and he put the liquor-filled cough-syrup bottles in his pocket, and told Tamera to have Cardell meet them at the gate of the prison. Then they took off from the TraveLodge. When he got to the gate, a lot of press was already going in. If they had been calling it a circus before, it looked now like a gypsy caravan. A great many television vans were lined up on the access road outside, plus all the vans for the movie-reel people and second crews and remotes, in addition to several hu.ndred members of the press who were jammed into every conceivable kind of vehicle, all going one by one through the main gate. What hit Schiller was that everybody was drinking.

4

The prison press release had not stated whether the press could bring liquor or beer, but, of course, this omission was no flaw in the master plan. Who had ever heard of the world press staking out a place

for twelve hours without liquor? Besides, it was so bitter cold that without booze, they would all freeze. Schiller flashed to six in the morning and three hundred newsmen stiff on the prison grounds. What a shot! Not a stringer alive to send out word. Yes, this was truly a master plan. Any demonstrations that took place would be off on the access road, well outside the prison. The objectors would be shouting their opposition from 1,5oo feet away. If not for this plan, some of the best men in the media might have been looking right now for interviews with the demonstrators, even encouraging them to come up with scorching remarks. By morning, there would been numerous stories of what was said by spokesmen hostile to execution. So this was brilliant. The press might be livid, but the had a beautiful concept: lock up the press.

Of course, next day, the stories would be vindictive, but then the press had been rough on the State of Utah all the way. At least, the execution would take place without a mob scene in the dawn andi everybody trying to get into the prison, grounds at once. Now the scene would take place at six o’clock the night before, and the an, tagonism of the press might even wear out by morning. Drinking all night, they would be stupefied at dawn. By the time Gilmore was transferred from Maximum to the cannery, these reporters would so happy to come in from the cold, they would probably wait grumbling in whichever room they were penned. This plan, believed, had to come from Washington. Somebody in the FBI Department of Justice, at least.

When Schiller went through the outside gate, they only “Who are you? …. Larry Schiller.” “Who with? …. Time ma They gave him the go-ahead. He started down the hill to the area but the guard standing there was Lieutenant Bernhardt, had let Schiller in that first time close to two months ago when had said he was an estate consultant. Now, Schiller drove by, lookinl straight ahead, but out of his rear-view mirror, he could see hardt getting into a vehicle to chase after. So, Schiller stopped and out. Bernhardt came up saying, “Get the hell out of here. You’re supposed to be in until six-thirty in the morning.” Bernhardt started screaming, which called attention to Schiller, last thing wanted.

SUNDAY MORNING, SUNDAY AFTERNOON
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Bernhardt got on the radio and called someone. Then he said, “All right, you’re in. But you’re staying until six the fuck in the morn-hag. Just remember that. You’re not getting to seeGfl—more.” He shouted it all out in front of any number of the press. Whatever small cover Schiller might have had, was blown. He was going to be waylaid for the next few hours by microphones.

Later, Tamera slipped him the minibottles she had picked up at the gate from Cardell. Reporters milled around, talking and stamping their feet. Soon, everybody was back in their vans. Six o’clock came, and that was it. They were locked in. The long winter night came down off Point of the Mountain, passed over the parking lot and the prison, and chased the last of the evening pale across the desert.

Into the Light

AN EVENING OF DANCING AND LIGHT REFRESHMENT

Julie Jacoby went out early to the vigil, and with her in the first car was Reverend John Adams who was an old hand at demonstrations and wanted to speak to the Salt Lake County Sheriff about protection for the vigilants.

Only trouble is they were not let inside the grounds. The State Police steered them over to an access road. After a while, they learned that very few reporters were available to cover them.

It got dark, it got cold, but they conducted a religious service. Forty or fifty people had turned out, and they read a litany by the illu mination provided by a television crew who were kind enough to tilt their lights until the group making the responses could see the print.

At John Adams’s suggestion, Julie had scoured her house for heavy clothing and brought it along for people who might show with out enough protection. Then the minister borrowed her Subaru and kept ferrying new vigilants out from the Howard Johnson Motel in Salt Lake, a rendezvous point. Through the night he brought people back and forth.

2

At five in the afternoon when Toni went in to visit with Gary, the press already collected in the parking lot, crowded around her at the

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THE EXECUTIONER’S SONG

gate leading to Maximum. It would be a lot worse when she came out. More press. Walking down that corridor between the wire fences over the snow with the wind coming in off the mountain, Toni was thinking of the first time she’d gone to see Gary at the prison, two days before his birthday. She hadn’t known then whether she was ready to forgive him or never would but after seeing how tickled he was at her visit, she asked what she could send, and he wanted two dark sweat shirts with the sleeves cut off, extra large with the shoulders reinforced so that they would peak without sleeves. She had gone to visit him again after that. He would always greet her by say° ing “God, you’re beautiful,” which had her blushing.