ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: MONDAY, September 25, 1995                   TAG: 9509250048
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: C-1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: DENNIS STOCKTON
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Long


A BLURRY FLURRY OF LAWYERS

Three days to live. That's what it comes down to for me, unless a judge somewhere, or the governor, decides the new evidence in my case raises questions about whether the state should kill me as scheduled on Wednesday.

That new evidence was the highlight of the past week, which was a busy one - what with my move to the Death House, all the visits and calls from newspapers, TV, radio stations and my lawyers, and Lem Tuggle's stay of execution.

And just why did it take so long - more than 121/2 years - for that new evidence to come to light? Because that's the quality of justice you get in America if you're charged with a crime and don't have the money to pay for a lawyer.

I know. I also know the people who need legal help the most - people on death row - get some of the lousiest representation.

An exception for me is the two lawyers I have now, Tony King of Washington and Steve Rosenfield of Charlottesville. I can't say enough about the hard work they've put in to dig up this new evidence, and all for some paltry sum of money the state is paying them. I don't know how much it is, but it's not much - or enough.

If all those lawyers during all those years had been paid, I estimate they would have earned, or at least asked for, about $25 million. One law firm alone estimated that their charges would have been $1 million, but they, like most of the others, handled my case pro bono, meaning for free.

The legal papers alone must have cost $1 million. There have been so many filed in my case that if you piled them all in the back of a Chevy Blazer, you'd need to use the side-view mirror to see what was behind you.

After all these years, it's not easy to remember who all my lawyers were.

Shortly after I was brought to Virginia in 1981, I was hauled into court in Patrick County, and a lawyer named Richard Rogers was appointed to represent me. A few days later, Rogers' law partner, a lady named Mary Sue Terry, then a member of the House of Delegates, came over to the jail to see me and told me she would be handling my defense. When she left, she took along a folder of legal papers I'd turned over to her.

A few weeks later, without having seen or talked to me again, Mary Sue for some reason got off my case, and a lawyer from Martinsville named Bunkie Penn was appointed to replace her. I had to resort to an angry conversation by phone in order to get my legal papers back from Mary Sue. I haven't seen her since, except on TV when she was campaigning for statewide office. Later, as the state attorney general, Mary Sue argued for my execution. I'm not sure it was ethical for her to do that, as a former defense lawyer of mine.

Anyway, Penn wasn't on my case long till I got rid of him, and another Martinsville lawyer, George Gautch, was designated by the court to replace him.

The first lawyer appointed to represent me on my present charge was again Richard Rogers. I never did meet him.

A few days later, Martin F. ``Fil'' Clark showed up and said he was now representing me. I couldn't have felt better. Clark had been the prosecutor in the county for nearly 30 years. He was the real power in the county back then.

But Clark didn't keep my case long, either, perhaps 10 days. A jailer took me down to a conference room, where I found Clark and another man. Clark introduced him as Philip Gardner, another Martinsville lawyer, and said Gardner would be taking over my defense.

The record reflects an attorney by the last name of Joyce as being appointed to assist Gardner, but Joyce never contacted me and I didn't even know he'd been in the case until I read the trial transcript. Instead, another Martinsville lawyer, Ward Armstrong, wound up assisting Gardner.

They were on my case until my direct appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court was denied in October 1984. They were paid a grand total of $500. That didn't even cover the cost of the paper the motions they filed was printed on.

Judge Frank I. Richardson, the judge in my trial, refused us the services of an investigator. If you check the record, you'll find Richardson always ruled against any motion prepared by my defense, regardless of the merits.

In October 1984, a young lawyer from Washington took on my case voluntarily. His name was William Slover. He visited me once, prepared a petition for writ of habeas corpus, then failed to follow up on it after Richardson denied it in Circuit Court. Over the next 20 to 24 months, I spoke with him only a handful of times. He was never in when I called and seldom responded to letters.

In October 1986, I was hours away from being killed when two lawyers from the Washington firm of Arnold & Porter - Pamela Chen and Louis Bograd - came to A-Basement at the old state penitentiary, where killings took place at the time, to see me. They promised me they'd go after my conviction, not my sentence. That's what I have wanted all along. I renewed my appeals, and the state did not kill me.

Over the next five years, a great number of lawyers from Arnold & Porter assisted in my defense. Pamela moved on to another job. Kevin Marks, Donald Frankel and Joe Poluka did the same. Marcia Cranberg, the first lawyer to tell me she believed I was innocent, was transferred to Arnold & Porter's Denver office. Kevin went to work for a law firm in Los Angeles. Don and Joe took positions in government.

At some time or other, Kim Meyer, Helene Madonick, Barry Johnson, David Greene, Steve Reade and Kumiki Gibson worked on my case. Since Arnold & Porter was a D.C. firm and not licensed in Virginia, Gerald Zerkin and later Markum Pyle agreed to serve as what is called ``local counsel.'' None of these lawyers received any payment whatsoever for defending me. I know I've left out someone who worked on my case. The record will reflect their names, though.

It was after my 1990 resentencing hearing that Tony King and John Bickerman from the D.C. firm Kaye, Scholer, Fierman, Hays & Handler took over my defense. Tracy Aronson also worked on my case - and perhaps others at Kaye, Scholer, people I am unaware of. But it was King who did the bulk of the work.

Tony is a young African-American who you might think better suited to be in the defensive backfield of the Minnesota Vikings than in a courtroom arguing law. He later moved to another D.C. firm, Howrey & Simon. Part of his agreeing to move to that firm was that he could continue to argue my case. They agreed ... and I'm glad. Very glad.

Steve Rosenfield of Charlottesville agreed to serve as local counsel and assist Tony. Steve could probably write a book on his relationship with me. We've argued countless times over the years. In spite of all the disagreements, he has been one of the few to believe in me. He and Tony have been psychiatrists to me at times, too. As my killing date nears, they are fighting harder than ever to see me freed.

I know it sounds as if I've had more than enough lawyers, but most of them did little work, and others I knew only as voices on the phone. I estimate that through the years about 300 briefs have been filed in my case. Only one was upheld by a judge: a motion to grant me a new sentencing hearing in 1989. I filed that myself, without a lawyer.

I've always said I'd rather have one lawyer who believed me and knew my case than a dozen if each knew only a portion and didn't believe me.



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