Death Penalty Protest
Catholic peace group prays near site of execution

By Andrew Junker, The Catholic Sun
June 7, 2007

FLORENCE — Wendell Wilson was upset when he saw where he had been taken.

He had gathered with 16 other people in a parking lot at the Arizona State Prison Complex in Florence to protest the May 22 execution of Robert Comer, Arizona’s first execution in seven years.

Comer was convicted in 1988 of murdering a fellow camper near Apache Lake and of raping and kidnapping another camper.

A prison guard told the group that their protest site was a “semi-sterile” environment, which meant that they could only bring their car keys and wallets. A large folding table was set up for them to empty their pockets before being searched for metal objects.

One member of the group placed a small rosary on the table. The guards either didn’t notice or didn’t mind. He put it back in his pocket and climbed into the white, unmarked bus that would take the group to the site.

As the bus rolled out onto State Route 79 and took a right onto Butte Road, the group could see the prison through the bus windows, which had white grilles attached to them on the outside.

The bus traveled the road and veered to the left. The prison fences and squat building faded in the distance as the bus parked in a large dirt field about a half mile from the compound.

There was some confusion in the group as to where exactly they were. A few white sedans with some prison guards sat in the lot. There were some bales of hay and nothing else.

Wilson jumped off the bus and quickly approached one of the guards. He demanded to speak to the prison’s media liaison to find out why the group had been sent to such a remote location.

The guard said he was just doing his job.

It didn’t used to be like this, Wilson said. He’s been actively campaigning against the death penalty for 11 years with the Coalition for Arizonans to Abolish the Death Penalty and has attended his fair share of protests.

He said the group used to be able to meet at the lot adjacent to the front of the prison.

“You could see the death house from there,” he said.

Valuing every human life

“The first word that comes to my mind is ‘surreal,’” said Margaret Wolford of her experience in Florence.

She drove down to the prison with a group from Phoenix. They’re members of Pax Christi, a Catholic organization that promotes non-violence.

Wolford said that she and her husband, Dan, got involved in social justice issues about seven years ago. Pax Christi helps her live out the Gospel message, she said, a message that values every human life.

“We’re not really looking at the human person these days. If you look back to number one on the scale of the commandments and Catholic social teaching, it’s always the dignity of the human person,” she said.

“We’re made in God’s image and we need to love our neighbor as ourselves,” she added.

After being dropped off at the site, Wolford mingled with the other protestors. Some chatted with the guards, others introduced themselves to a couple who had come up from Tucson.

After about 15 minutes, three white conversion vans appeared down the road. It was the media.

They circled around the group and began asking questions and collecting quotes.

“Why are you here?”

“Do you feel like you can change anything by being here? He’s still going to be executed.”

Tom Donavan, who also came down with the Pax Christi group, said the questions reporters ask can be discouraging — that they often fail to grasp the philosophy behind the non-violence movement.

But so do many Catholics, he said.

“The people in the pews generally don’t seem to appreciate non-violence,” Donavan said. “I am a very Scripture-oriented person and the more I read Scripture, Jesus is very clear in the call for non-violence.”

He became involved in non-violence issues 15 years ago when he attended a Pace Bene seminar. Pace Bene is a program offered by Franciscan priests that studies non-violence.

Donavan remembers telling his family one night at dinner about his opposition to the death penalty. Many of his children disagree with him.

“But I periodically remind my very large family that if I’m murdered, the last thing I want is for my killer to be executed,” he said. But he added, “It’s easier said than done.”

One of the cameramen called out from the vans, “Time to go.”

The media were going to cover the pro-death penalty group that was about a half a mile away.

As the reporters milled back to the vans, the Pax Christi member who had brought a rosary with him began to pray the fifth sorrowful mystery: Jesus dies on the cross.

The rest of the group joined in and the reporters and cameramen rushed back from the vans to photograph and record the string of Hail Marys.

Praying for the dead

After the media left, the group continued talking to each other or the guards who had remained. One member of the group said he was disappointed more people didn’t show up. There was talk of a large group from Tucson that was supposed to be there.

But Margaret Wolford remained hopeful that the letter written by the three Arizona bishops condemning the execution would spur interest in the non-violence cause.

The letter concluded, “The use of the death penalty in today’s society not only disregards human life and the inherent dignity of each person, but it is also unnecessary to protect the public and is prone to serious flaws.”

“It meant a lot,” Wolford said of the letter. “The bishop’s done a lot of good for the group we belong to.”

Even so, she admitted that Catholics seem to be divided on right-to-life issues. They can often break into two groups, she said: those who pray the rosary in front of abortion clinics and those who pray the rosary at executions, war protests or labor disputes.

“We’ve got to start talking to each other,” she said. “It’s a matter of dialogue.”

She’s hopeful that these two groups can support each other better in the future and promote a consistent ethic of life.

“I think we struggle to stay together,” Donavan agreed. “The Catholic Church is huge, but Catholic social teaching is pretty clear in regards to violence.”

Comer’s execution by lethal injection was scheduled for 10 a.m.

At 9:45 a.m., the group formed a circle and began to pray for a host of different people: for Comer’s victims, for Comer, for his family, for the executioners and all prisoners.

Then they prayed the first glorious mystery: the resurrection.

Wolford’s husband, Dan, announced they were two minutes away from the execution.

It was silent for a while, but then someone started softly singing, “Jesus, remember me when you come into Your kingdom.”

The rest of the group joined in and sang for a few minutes. After the song, they exchanged the sign of peace with each other.

At 10:11 a.m., a guard told them to board the bus back to their cars.

“I am hopeful,” Wendell Wilson said about repealing the death penalty. “I just think it’s going to take a little while.”