Utah wants to bring back its firing squad as a means of executing condemned prisoners, so I felt it appropriate that I also resurrect something from that era. Below is an editorial I wrote in January 1977, in response to Utah’s execution of murderer Gary Gilmore. The execution was newsworthy because it was the first in nearly 10 years following a U.S. Supreme Court ruling that the death penalty did not violate the Eighth Amendment’s prohibition against “Cruel and unusual punishment”. Utah lawmakers voted to re-institute the firing squad because of the difficulty in procuring lethal injection drugs. So as Utah sharpshooters ready their rifles, journey back with me to this contemporaneous reflection of the last time they cried, “Ready, Aim, Fire”:
GARY GILMORE
By Keith Darrell (originally published in The Phoenix, January 28, 1977)
Well, we've finally done it. American society has sunk to its lowest depths. In our continuing effort to make a mockery out of politics, political office, liberty, and justice, we have claimed another victim — the myth of a dignified death.
On January 17, 1977, Gary Mark Gilmore was executed by a firing squad — the first U.S. execution in 10 years. We do not want to glorify Gilmore. Gilmore cold-bloodedly murdered two men and freely admitted he would have continued his killing spree had he not been caught.
But even more cold-blooded acts were committed by the public, the press, and individuals, in response to Gilmore's impending execution. When Gilmore was selected to become the first man to be executed since the U.S. Supreme Court decision that the death penalty does not violate the Eighth Amendment's prohibition against "cruel and unusual punishment," a bloodthirsty public cried out for his death. But Gilmore surprised them — he agreed with their assessment of his guilt and their prescribed punishment.
Excited reporters immediately jumped on this. It was the legendary case of 'Man bites dog.' A man who wants to be executed! Gilmore made the network news every night and his two suicide attempts managed to bump every other story out of the headlines. Then the press began to glorify Gilmore — not Bennie Bushnell — not Max David Jensen — Gilmore's victims. Victims make poor heroes.
But martyrs don't. And Gilmore was martyrized. Every concerned citizen and organization rallied to his cause. But his cause was a death wish! "Oh, shut-up, Gary. We know what's good for you," they responded. His court-appointed lawyers tried to get him an appeal; he fired them. The American Civil Liberties Union was determined to save him; he denounced them. But Gary found a friend in neo-journalist Lawrence Schiller, who paid $1,000 for the rights to Gilmore. You see, Gilmore is a very marketable commodity. The rights to Gilmore include 16 taped conversations with the condemned man— later to be transformed into a Playboy magazine interview, books, movies, and Gilmore T-shirts. "The Gary Gilmore Story," or whatever they call the movie, will tell how Gilmore spent more of his life in prison with hardened criminals than outside in "decent" society. What can we infer from a criminal justice system that forces first-time offenders in with hardened criminals, and then when it fails to rehabilitate them due in part to its own structure, sentences them to be executed?
The thought of impending death is horrible enough, but in Gilmore's case, after he had resigned himself to his fate, he was tortured by constant appeals — that is the true "cruel and unusual punishment." Gilmore had accepted his sentence, which he undoubtedly deserved — he asked only for a dignified death. But society was not ready to give it to him.
The cameras whirred as four bullets sliced through Gilmore's heart. The film of the execution was cut up, as was Gilmore's body (he had willed his organs to a local hospital). It was over. Now the nation must begin its long wait for the movie.
The nation did not have long to wait. "The Executioner's Song", a made-for-TV movie adaptation of Norman Mailer's 1979 eponymous book was broadcast in 1982. The film was directed by Lawrence Schiller who, as my 1977 editorial noted, had purchased the rights to Gilmore for $1,000. I guess he got a good return on his investment.
GARY GILMORE
By Keith Darrell (originally published in The Phoenix, January 28, 1977)
Well, we've finally done it. American society has sunk to its lowest depths. In our continuing effort to make a mockery out of politics, political office, liberty, and justice, we have claimed another victim — the myth of a dignified death.
On January 17, 1977, Gary Mark Gilmore was executed by a firing squad — the first U.S. execution in 10 years. We do not want to glorify Gilmore. Gilmore cold-bloodedly murdered two men and freely admitted he would have continued his killing spree had he not been caught.
But even more cold-blooded acts were committed by the public, the press, and individuals, in response to Gilmore's impending execution. When Gilmore was selected to become the first man to be executed since the U.S. Supreme Court decision that the death penalty does not violate the Eighth Amendment's prohibition against "cruel and unusual punishment," a bloodthirsty public cried out for his death. But Gilmore surprised them — he agreed with their assessment of his guilt and their prescribed punishment.
Excited reporters immediately jumped on this. It was the legendary case of 'Man bites dog.' A man who wants to be executed! Gilmore made the network news every night and his two suicide attempts managed to bump every other story out of the headlines. Then the press began to glorify Gilmore — not Bennie Bushnell — not Max David Jensen — Gilmore's victims. Victims make poor heroes.
But martyrs don't. And Gilmore was martyrized. Every concerned citizen and organization rallied to his cause. But his cause was a death wish! "Oh, shut-up, Gary. We know what's good for you," they responded. His court-appointed lawyers tried to get him an appeal; he fired them. The American Civil Liberties Union was determined to save him; he denounced them. But Gary found a friend in neo-journalist Lawrence Schiller, who paid $1,000 for the rights to Gilmore. You see, Gilmore is a very marketable commodity. The rights to Gilmore include 16 taped conversations with the condemned man— later to be transformed into a Playboy magazine interview, books, movies, and Gilmore T-shirts. "The Gary Gilmore Story," or whatever they call the movie, will tell how Gilmore spent more of his life in prison with hardened criminals than outside in "decent" society. What can we infer from a criminal justice system that forces first-time offenders in with hardened criminals, and then when it fails to rehabilitate them due in part to its own structure, sentences them to be executed?
The thought of impending death is horrible enough, but in Gilmore's case, after he had resigned himself to his fate, he was tortured by constant appeals — that is the true "cruel and unusual punishment." Gilmore had accepted his sentence, which he undoubtedly deserved — he asked only for a dignified death. But society was not ready to give it to him.
The cameras whirred as four bullets sliced through Gilmore's heart. The film of the execution was cut up, as was Gilmore's body (he had willed his organs to a local hospital). It was over. Now the nation must begin its long wait for the movie.
* * * *
The nation did not have long to wait. "The Executioner's Song", a made-for-TV movie adaptation of Norman Mailer's 1979 eponymous book was broadcast in 1982. The film was directed by Lawrence Schiller who, as my 1977 editorial noted, had purchased the rights to Gilmore for $1,000. I guess he got a good return on his investment.
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