Another black man gone

Kim Severson has an article in The New York Times about the execution of a cop-killer:

Proclaiming his innocence, Troy Davis was put to death by lethal injection as his life— and the hopes of supporters worldwide— was prolonged by several hours while the Supreme Court reviewed, but then declined to act on, a petition from his lawyers to stay the execution.
Davis, 42, who was convicted of murdering a Savannah police officer 22 years ago, entered the death chamber shortly before 11pm, four hours after the scheduled time. He died at 11:08.
This final chapter before his execution had become an international symbol of the battle over the death penalty and racial imbalance in the justice system. “It harkens back to some ugly days in the history of this state,” said the Reverend Raphael Warnock of Ebenezer Baptist Church.
Davis remained defiant at the end, according to reporters who witnessed his death. He looked directly at the members of the family of Mark MacPhail, the officer he was convicted of killing, and told them they had the wrong man. “I did not personally kill your son, father, brother,” he said. “All I can ask is that you look deeper into this case so you really can finally see the truth.” He then told his supporters and family to “keep the faith” and said to prison personnel, “May God have mercy on your souls; may God bless your souls.”
One of the witnesses, a radio reporter from WSB in Atlanta, said it appeared that the MacPhail family “seemed to get some satisfaction” from the execution. For Davis’ family and other supporters gathered in front of the prison, the final hours were mixed with hope, tears and exhaustion. The crowd was buoyed by the Supreme Court’s involvement, but was crushed when the justices issued their one-sentence refusal to consider a stay.
When the news of his death came, the family left quietly and the five hundred or so supporters began to pack up and leave their position across the state highway from the prison entrance. Davis’ body was driven out of the grounds about midnight.
During the evening, a dozen supporters of the death penalty, including people who knew the MacPhail family sat quietly, separated from the Davises and their supporters by a stretch of lawn and rope barriers.
The appeal to the Supreme Court was one of several last-ditch efforts by Davis. Earlier in the day, an official with the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People said that the vote by the Georgia parole board to deny clemency to Davis was so close that he hoped there might be a chance to save him from execution. The official, Edward O. DuBose, president of the Georgia chapter, said the group had “very reliable information from the board members directly that the board was split three to two on whether to grant clemency. The fact that that kind of division was in the room is even more of a sign that there is a strong possibility to save Troy’s life,” he said. The NAACP said it had been in contact with the Department of Justice, in the hope that the federal government would intervene on the basis of civil rights violations, citing irregularities in the original investigation and at the trial.
Earlier in the day, his lawyers had asked the state for another chance to spare him: a lie detector test.
But the Georgia Board of Pardons and Parole, which denied Davis clemency after a daylong hearing on Monday, quickly responded that there would be no reconsideration of the case, and the polygraph test was abandoned.
Davis’ supporters also reached out to the prosecutor in the original case and asked him to persuade the original judge to rescind the death order. Benjamin Jealous, the president of the NAACP, also tried to ask President Obama for a reprieve.
The Innocence Project, which has had a hand in the exoneration of seventeen death-row inmates through the use of DNA testing, sent a letter to the Chatham County district attorney, Larry Chisolm, urging him to withdraw the execution warrant against Davis.
Davis was convicted of the 1989 shooting of Officer MacPhail, who was working a second job as a security guard. A homeless man called for help after a group that included Davis began to assault him, according to court testimony. When Officer MacPhail went to assist him, he was shot in the face and the heart.
Before Wednesday, Davis had walked to the brink of execution three times.
His conviction came after testimony by some witnesses who later recanted, and on the scantest of physical evidence, adding fuel to those who rely on the internet to rally against executions and to question the validity of eyewitness identification and of the court system itself.
But for the family of the slain officer and others who believed that two decades’ worth of legal appeals and Supreme Court intervention was more than enough to ensure justice, it was not an issue of race but of law.
Inside the prison, Officer MacPhail’s widow, Joan MacPhail-Harris, said calling Davis a victim was ludicrous. “We have lived this for 22 years,” she said. “We are victims.” She added: “We have laws in this land so that there is not chaos. We are not killing Troy because we want to.”
Davis, who refused a last meal, had been in good spirits and prayerful, said Wende Gozan Brown, a spokeswoman for Amnesty International, who visited him. She said he had told her his death was for all the Troy Davises who came before and after him. “I will not stop fighting until I’ve taken my last breath,” she recounted him as saying. “Georgia is prepared to snuff out the life of an innocent man.”
The case has been a slow and convoluted exercise in legal maneuvering and death penalty politics.
The state parole board granted him a stay in 2007 as he was preparing for his final hours, saying the execution should not proceed unless its members “are convinced that there is no doubt as to the guilt of the accused.” The board has since added three new members.
In 2008, his execution was about ninety minutes away when the Supreme Court stepped in. Although the court kept Davis from execution then, it later declined to hear the case.
This time around, the case catapulted into the national consciousness with record numbers of petitions— more than 630,000— being delivered to the board to stay the execution; the list of people asking for clemency included former President Jimmy Carter, Archbishop Desmond Tutu, fifty members of Congress, entertainment figures like Cee Lo Green, and even some death penalty supporters, including William S. Sessions, a former FBI director.

Rico says he sure hopes they don't turn up some exonerating evidence; this case is divisive enough already. But “I did not personally kill him” isn't exactly a denial; maybe he meant someone else in his 'group'...