THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, September 26, 1995 TAG: 9509260290
SECTION: FRONT PAGE: A8 EDITION: FINAL
SERIES: Under Sentence of death: Journal of a condemned man
SOURCE: Dennis Stockton
LENGTH: Medium: 90 lines
On Monday, when I came back to my cell from visiting with a friend, I got a Coca-Cola Classic I'd been saving all day. I opened it and called the office of Steve Rosenfield, one of my lawyers. When Sherry, the secretary, answered, she started laughing and said, ``I'm not supposed to be telling you this. . . '' But she did anyway. I had gotten a stay of execution - with two days left before my killing date.
I was pretty excited and yelled over to tell my spiritual adviser, Russ Ford, who was visiting with another death-row man.
It was probably just a coincidence, but yesterday morning I woke up dreaming that I was out at the gate and there was my friend Ron Smith with a big smile on his face. Ron was helping me pack my belongings in his car. In my dream, I was going home with him.
On the day Lem Tuggle was to scheduled to be killed last week, I woke up early, before Tuggle did. I had dreamed he got a stay. When I heard his commode flush, I told him to pack up, he was going back to Mecklenburg. He didn't believe me. Anyway, they came and took me and the other death-row man out of the death house, and when they brought us back around lunch time, there was Tug, a big smile on his face. He had gotten the stay, all right. He was packing up for the trip back to Mecklenburg.
The funny thing is, I seldom dream.
What I thought would be the last weekend of my life began Friday night with the sound of rain beating on the roof. I can't see outdoors because there are no windows in the death house, so I had no idea other than the pitter-patter on the roof what the weather was like. Had winter arrived early? Was it cold out? Was it a warm, late-summer rain? I could only guess.
Friday was one of my ``shower'' days. The only time I leave this cell cell is when I shower - on Monday, Wednesday and Friday - and when I have a visitor. When I'm taken for a shower, my cell is searched, the bed linens are changed and I have to change clothes. The only clothing I'm permitted in my cell is a pair of socks, underwear and a T-shirt. An orange jump suit is kept on a round table in front my cell for me to wear when visiting friends or lawyers.
When you enter my cell - one of three identical cells in the death house - there's a note of warning, but not exactly what you'd expect. It's a warning to watch your step. ``CAUTION: STEP DOWN,'' is painted in red, to alert you to the 8-inch drop.
There are two color TVs and two desks outside the cells in the death house for officers to sit at. A set of scales sits next to the shower. I'm weighed each shower day. I now weigh 152 pounds, up from 146 pounds when I got here. The food gets better every day. And I recently enjoyed my first Coca-Cola Classic since 1987!
Sunday was a busy day. The highlight was when I saw Dale Earnhardt win the race at Martinsville. It was on ESPN, and I got to see it in on one of those color televisions. As usual, I was just as tired as Dale when the race was over. It could very well be the last race I ever see Dale win - if so, I'm glad the Lord blessed both Dale and me with that win today!
I spent much of the day answering the mountain of mail that's accumulated since I've been writing about my experience on death row. So far I've sent out seven letters and hope to get out at least two more. I estimate I've received between 50 and 60 letters from people since I've been here.
I'm trying to answer as many as I can.
Here's a reply to B.P.:
No, I didn't love Jerry Garcia with all my heart. I didn't even know who he was until my boss at the newspaper interrupted me during a phone conversation on the day Jerry died and told me he just had.
To an aunt I haven't seen or heard from in 40 years:
Please forgive me for not trying to get in touch during one of my infrequent periods of freedom. Remember that train ride you, Ronnie and I made from Sarasota, Fla., in 1954? And I was really surprised to learn Ronnie is now a doctor. Thanks for remembering me in your prayers. I love you.
To the lady in Norfolk who thinks I'm a fraud:
Well, no words come to mind at the moment that might change your mind. If you don't like what I write, then don't read it.
On Monday, two days before my scheduled killing date, I spent much of my time reassuring and consoling friends who called and visited. One of the visits was from two ladies who are members of my church. They were were all wrought up about my situation.
I told them, ``If anybody's got a right to worry, it's me, and I'm not. I'm ready. I've had about all the due process I can stand.''
Then I quoted them something Michael Landon once said:
``Remember me with smiles and laughter, for that's how I'll remember you all. If you can only remember me with tears, then don't remember me at all.''
We touched our hands together on opposite sides of the glass, the two ladies from the church and me. Then they smiled, and were escorted out.
KEYWORDS: CAPITAL PUNISHMENT DEATH ROW MURDER DENNIS STOCKTON by CNB