Post by gellibee on Jun 15, 2007 7:40:57 GMT -5
Waiting to Be Killed
Death Row helps a man make sense of life
By Margo Pierce
Youngstown -- Jeff Hill of Cincinnati knows something about darkness.
"I've been in a dark place for some years," he says, his voice shaking. "I killed my mother. It can't get no darker than that. I killed a woman that I love and respect, and no matter how I try to justify it, I'm not cool with the explanation. OK, drugs played a part -- it wasn't an excuse, I shouldn't have done drugs. That's what I deal with."
Hill was sentenced to death for killing his mother and stealing $10 from her while high on crack Hill says his drug use started when his father was diagnosed with cancer and continued after his death because he didn't know how to cope. He's now
living on Death Row in Ohio's supermax prison.
Scheduled to be killed last year, Hill won a stay of execution because he's a plaintiff in a lawsuit against the state of Ohio challenging the system of lethal injection as cruel and unusual punishment.
"I wake up and look where (I'm) at," he says during an interview at the prison. "I'm not sure I fully forgave myself, but I try. I had to reach deep down inside. It was either that or allow my anger to consume me and take me to places I didn't want to go. I was already in the dark."
'The hardest thing'
The lawsuit that kept Hill from being poisoned last year appears likely now to go to the U.S. Supreme Court. His fight to keep the darkness at bay in a place that is anything but uplifting has been difficult -- and won't likely
end any time soon.
"It's a battle, just something you don't get over," he says. "If you're being real with how you feel, that's just how you feel. This place changes people, for the good and for the bad. For me it's all about helping somebody. When I first came to the Death Row, I couldn't talk about my situation because -- for one, I was angry; two, I was ashamed of a whole lot of other stuff. But over the years I've learned to talk about it because, if for nothing else, it'll help somebody. ...'Look, I understand.' "
Hill says the memory of his mother inspires him to make a positive impact with the life he has left.
"The way I live my life in here, I live my life to uplift somebody else," he says smiling. "If I can make their life better, then I accomplished something good. I know the type of man my mom would like me to be, so I'm just trying to be that. Everything I do is in the memory of her. If I was in here wild, acting up, showing all this rage, then that wouldn't be in memory of her. She deserved better, so I'm trying to do the right thing. It's the
least I can do. I owe her that."
Pam Prude-Smithers of the Ohio Public Defender's Office is part of Hill's defense team. She's been defending Death Row inmates for 13 years. She says most people on Death Row change during the long appeals process through "reflection, maturing." Hill is no exception.
"There are always going to be people who are skeptical about his remorse: 'Oh, he's sorry now that he's facing the death penalty,' " she says. "There's a genuine remorse and feeling that they've ruined their lives and they've ruined the lives of the families. (Hill) didn't have a serious criminal history at that time. He got involved with some bad drugs that changed his behavior."
The idea behind the prison system is not only to remove potentially violent law-breakers from the general population so they can't hurt anyone else, but also to get those who have done something wrong to understand the ramifications of their actions. Hill still thinks about how things could have been if he knew then what he knows now.
"I try to find a reason," he says. "If I could've seen this coming, it never would've happened. But I didn't see it coming. I thought I had control. I didn't have control at all."
Bad as his actions were, the murder could have been even worse, according to Hill.
"Then I always think, that could've been a day when one of my kids was over there," he says. "That's my darkness.
"It's hard. Every day, 24/7 -- that's what I live. Ain't no denying my guilt. I can't change that, so I have to live with it. Everybody deals with grief, with situations, in their own way. The hardest thing for me to do was to forgive myself, so I did that. It's not easy, but I did it. I made my peace a long time ago."
In addition to his own judgments, Hill deals with the judgments of others, some of which baffle him.
"Dealing with my family, that's one thing," he says. "I come from a very beautiful family. They're beautiful and they're very forgiving. When I'm being judged by guys in the same situation I'm in, that's something totally different. For them to be judging me and they're in the same situation, I've never been able to understand that. I don't deal with it in a harsh way, I don't deal with it in a negative way -- I embrace it and I move on."
'Through this madness'
Moving on can only mean a few things in prison, such as writing letters, working out and reading books. For a while Hill studied to earn his GED for "my mom and ... to prove to my kids it's obtainable." He'd like to learn more and reads books that empower him to do just that.
Something he doesn't do is follow the activities of death penalty opponents or the executions that are taking place, such as the recently botched execution of Christopher Newton.
"It's too painful," Hill says. "I don't know everybody that's being executed but ... when you start thinking about that, you're like, 'Man, that's gonna be me one day.' That's painful, but it's reality.
"Several guys that have already passed on, I was real close to 'em. Their executions really messed me up. When it's somebody I don't know, it don't affect me that way."
Debating about whether he wants to continue with the next round of appeals in the lawsuit against Ohio's execution protocol, Hill says he's tired of all the legal hoops and the prison politics that go along with his involvement He wants the case heard based on its merits but he also doesn't believe the state of
Ohio is ready to give up the death penalty.
Struggling with that decision, everyday life in prison, the knowledge of the consequences of his actions and the seemingly endless frustrations of the legal system, on top of knowing he is sentenced to be executed by the state, Hill says he has found peace and he's happy.
"It may sound strange, but I'm a better man because of this situation," he says. "I've learned a lot, I've (grown) a lot. I'm in a different place. I keep striving to be the best person that I can be because of that. I won't let it define me. I'm just trying to get through this madness the best way that I know how. I'm just trying to get through this madness. I'm just trying to do the right thing,
"Everything that I do, I do in honor of my mom. The main thing is she's proud of me. I came this far and the pressure didn't break me because I had her in my corner. If I don't have nobody else, I go to my mom in my corner.
That's about it."
Death Row helps a man make sense of life
By Margo Pierce
Youngstown -- Jeff Hill of Cincinnati knows something about darkness.
"I've been in a dark place for some years," he says, his voice shaking. "I killed my mother. It can't get no darker than that. I killed a woman that I love and respect, and no matter how I try to justify it, I'm not cool with the explanation. OK, drugs played a part -- it wasn't an excuse, I shouldn't have done drugs. That's what I deal with."
Hill was sentenced to death for killing his mother and stealing $10 from her while high on crack Hill says his drug use started when his father was diagnosed with cancer and continued after his death because he didn't know how to cope. He's now
living on Death Row in Ohio's supermax prison.
Scheduled to be killed last year, Hill won a stay of execution because he's a plaintiff in a lawsuit against the state of Ohio challenging the system of lethal injection as cruel and unusual punishment.
"I wake up and look where (I'm) at," he says during an interview at the prison. "I'm not sure I fully forgave myself, but I try. I had to reach deep down inside. It was either that or allow my anger to consume me and take me to places I didn't want to go. I was already in the dark."
'The hardest thing'
The lawsuit that kept Hill from being poisoned last year appears likely now to go to the U.S. Supreme Court. His fight to keep the darkness at bay in a place that is anything but uplifting has been difficult -- and won't likely
end any time soon.
"It's a battle, just something you don't get over," he says. "If you're being real with how you feel, that's just how you feel. This place changes people, for the good and for the bad. For me it's all about helping somebody. When I first came to the Death Row, I couldn't talk about my situation because -- for one, I was angry; two, I was ashamed of a whole lot of other stuff. But over the years I've learned to talk about it because, if for nothing else, it'll help somebody. ...'Look, I understand.' "
Hill says the memory of his mother inspires him to make a positive impact with the life he has left.
"The way I live my life in here, I live my life to uplift somebody else," he says smiling. "If I can make their life better, then I accomplished something good. I know the type of man my mom would like me to be, so I'm just trying to be that. Everything I do is in the memory of her. If I was in here wild, acting up, showing all this rage, then that wouldn't be in memory of her. She deserved better, so I'm trying to do the right thing. It's the
least I can do. I owe her that."
Pam Prude-Smithers of the Ohio Public Defender's Office is part of Hill's defense team. She's been defending Death Row inmates for 13 years. She says most people on Death Row change during the long appeals process through "reflection, maturing." Hill is no exception.
"There are always going to be people who are skeptical about his remorse: 'Oh, he's sorry now that he's facing the death penalty,' " she says. "There's a genuine remorse and feeling that they've ruined their lives and they've ruined the lives of the families. (Hill) didn't have a serious criminal history at that time. He got involved with some bad drugs that changed his behavior."
The idea behind the prison system is not only to remove potentially violent law-breakers from the general population so they can't hurt anyone else, but also to get those who have done something wrong to understand the ramifications of their actions. Hill still thinks about how things could have been if he knew then what he knows now.
"I try to find a reason," he says. "If I could've seen this coming, it never would've happened. But I didn't see it coming. I thought I had control. I didn't have control at all."
Bad as his actions were, the murder could have been even worse, according to Hill.
"Then I always think, that could've been a day when one of my kids was over there," he says. "That's my darkness.
"It's hard. Every day, 24/7 -- that's what I live. Ain't no denying my guilt. I can't change that, so I have to live with it. Everybody deals with grief, with situations, in their own way. The hardest thing for me to do was to forgive myself, so I did that. It's not easy, but I did it. I made my peace a long time ago."
In addition to his own judgments, Hill deals with the judgments of others, some of which baffle him.
"Dealing with my family, that's one thing," he says. "I come from a very beautiful family. They're beautiful and they're very forgiving. When I'm being judged by guys in the same situation I'm in, that's something totally different. For them to be judging me and they're in the same situation, I've never been able to understand that. I don't deal with it in a harsh way, I don't deal with it in a negative way -- I embrace it and I move on."
'Through this madness'
Moving on can only mean a few things in prison, such as writing letters, working out and reading books. For a while Hill studied to earn his GED for "my mom and ... to prove to my kids it's obtainable." He'd like to learn more and reads books that empower him to do just that.
Something he doesn't do is follow the activities of death penalty opponents or the executions that are taking place, such as the recently botched execution of Christopher Newton.
"It's too painful," Hill says. "I don't know everybody that's being executed but ... when you start thinking about that, you're like, 'Man, that's gonna be me one day.' That's painful, but it's reality.
"Several guys that have already passed on, I was real close to 'em. Their executions really messed me up. When it's somebody I don't know, it don't affect me that way."
Debating about whether he wants to continue with the next round of appeals in the lawsuit against Ohio's execution protocol, Hill says he's tired of all the legal hoops and the prison politics that go along with his involvement He wants the case heard based on its merits but he also doesn't believe the state of
Ohio is ready to give up the death penalty.
Struggling with that decision, everyday life in prison, the knowledge of the consequences of his actions and the seemingly endless frustrations of the legal system, on top of knowing he is sentenced to be executed by the state, Hill says he has found peace and he's happy.
"It may sound strange, but I'm a better man because of this situation," he says. "I've learned a lot, I've (grown) a lot. I'm in a different place. I keep striving to be the best person that I can be because of that. I won't let it define me. I'm just trying to get through this madness the best way that I know how. I'm just trying to get through this madness. I'm just trying to do the right thing,
"Everything that I do, I do in honor of my mom. The main thing is she's proud of me. I came this far and the pressure didn't break me because I had her in my corner. If I don't have nobody else, I go to my mom in my corner.
That's about it."