Post by MXB on Jul 30, 2007 7:25:36 GMT -5
Is 61 years in prison enough retribution?
Notorious triple murderer William Heirens seeks parole yet again
By Michael Higgins |Chicago Tribune staff reporter
July 29, 2007
DIXON, Ill. - William Heirens, his legs swollen from diabetes, pushes himself slowly in his wheelchair toward his visitors at the state prison.
"I figure I'll be getting out this year," he predicted last week in a Tribune interview. "It's a bad thing on the reputation of Illinois that they lock people up forever."
Heirens has served more than six decades in prison -- longer than any other inmate in Illinois history -- for one of the most shocking murder sprees in Chicago annals.
With the Illinois Prisoner Review Board set to rule Thursday on yet another parole bid by Heirens, the case raises fundamental questions about justice and punishment, rehabilitation and retribution.
Heirens has spent a virtual lifetime, from age 17 to 78, as a model prisoner. He was even the first Illinois inmate to earn a college degree behind bars.
Now Heirens' advancing age is forcing the state to decide what his efforts at rehabilitation are ultimately worth. Has he earned a measure of mercy in his final years, or do his crimes carry a price that can never be paid?
While his lawyers argue that Heirens should be freed because of good conduct and his failing health, the murder victims' relatives, who have long fought to keep him behind bars, say they live in fear of the day he might be released.
"There can be no sense of security if he gets out," said James Degnan, who was born after his sister Suzanne died at the hands of Heirens.
Cook County prosecutors argued to the board this spring that his crimes were too heinous to be forgiven.
Heirens pleaded guilty in 1946 to killing two women in their homes and strangling 6-year-old Suzanne Degnan, whose body was dismembered and disposed of in city sewers.
"For heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more," read a chilling message scrawled in lipstick on the wall of one victim's apartment. "I cannot control myself."
Heirens was sentenced to three consecutive life terms. But under the law of the day, life didn't mean life without parole.
Claims of innocence
In dozens of hearings since the 1960s, the review board has repeatedly denied him parole, in part because he insists he is innocent -- a claim he repeated in last week's interview.
Despite that, some board members have praised and encouraged him, including one who in 1975 called Heirens "a good example of what rehabilitation is all about."
He can be set free if the parole board determines that he presents no risk to the public and his release would not "deprecate the seriousness of his offense or promote disrespect for the law," according to Illinois law.
Even Nathan Leopold, whose 1924 murder with Richard Loeb of a 14-year-old boy was Chicago's original "crime of the century," was paroled after serving 33 years in prison. He had been sentenced to life plus 99 years in prison.
"It's a problem that's been with us forever," said Andrew Leipold, a law professor at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. "You want to punish for what's been done. You also hope to rehabilitate. You want to send a deterrent message. ... There's no agreed measure of what's the proper balance."
Change in strategy
At the latest parole hearing, Heirens' lawyers shifted tactics, downplaying his claims of wrongful conviction and emphasizing his poor health and years as a model prisoner.
Notorious triple murderer William Heirens seeks parole yet again
By Michael Higgins |Chicago Tribune staff reporter
July 29, 2007
DIXON, Ill. - William Heirens, his legs swollen from diabetes, pushes himself slowly in his wheelchair toward his visitors at the state prison.
"I figure I'll be getting out this year," he predicted last week in a Tribune interview. "It's a bad thing on the reputation of Illinois that they lock people up forever."
Heirens has served more than six decades in prison -- longer than any other inmate in Illinois history -- for one of the most shocking murder sprees in Chicago annals.
With the Illinois Prisoner Review Board set to rule Thursday on yet another parole bid by Heirens, the case raises fundamental questions about justice and punishment, rehabilitation and retribution.
Heirens has spent a virtual lifetime, from age 17 to 78, as a model prisoner. He was even the first Illinois inmate to earn a college degree behind bars.
Now Heirens' advancing age is forcing the state to decide what his efforts at rehabilitation are ultimately worth. Has he earned a measure of mercy in his final years, or do his crimes carry a price that can never be paid?
While his lawyers argue that Heirens should be freed because of good conduct and his failing health, the murder victims' relatives, who have long fought to keep him behind bars, say they live in fear of the day he might be released.
"There can be no sense of security if he gets out," said James Degnan, who was born after his sister Suzanne died at the hands of Heirens.
Cook County prosecutors argued to the board this spring that his crimes were too heinous to be forgiven.
Heirens pleaded guilty in 1946 to killing two women in their homes and strangling 6-year-old Suzanne Degnan, whose body was dismembered and disposed of in city sewers.
"For heaven's sake, catch me before I kill more," read a chilling message scrawled in lipstick on the wall of one victim's apartment. "I cannot control myself."
Heirens was sentenced to three consecutive life terms. But under the law of the day, life didn't mean life without parole.
Claims of innocence
In dozens of hearings since the 1960s, the review board has repeatedly denied him parole, in part because he insists he is innocent -- a claim he repeated in last week's interview.
Despite that, some board members have praised and encouraged him, including one who in 1975 called Heirens "a good example of what rehabilitation is all about."
He can be set free if the parole board determines that he presents no risk to the public and his release would not "deprecate the seriousness of his offense or promote disrespect for the law," according to Illinois law.
Even Nathan Leopold, whose 1924 murder with Richard Loeb of a 14-year-old boy was Chicago's original "crime of the century," was paroled after serving 33 years in prison. He had been sentenced to life plus 99 years in prison.
"It's a problem that's been with us forever," said Andrew Leipold, a law professor at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. "You want to punish for what's been done. You also hope to rehabilitate. You want to send a deterrent message. ... There's no agreed measure of what's the proper balance."
Change in strategy
At the latest parole hearing, Heirens' lawyers shifted tactics, downplaying his claims of wrongful conviction and emphasizing his poor health and years as a model prisoner.