Sat. Nov 16th, 2024

People protest the death penalty in a “free speech zone” set up near the Utah State Correctional Facility in Salt Lake City on Wednesday, Aug. 7, 2024 as the state prepared to execute death row inmate Taberon Honie just after midnight. (Photo by Spenser Heaps for Utah News Dispatch)

What’s your biggest secret, the one thing you’ve never told anyone?

For Steven Golden, it was the truth about what happened on Halloween night 1997. For years, he maintained that South Carolina death row inmate Freddie Owens had pulled the trigger that took Irene Graves’ life during a convenience store robbery in Greenville.

The jury at Owens’ trial relied upon Golden’s testimony to convict him. Owens was sentenced to death.

On Wednesday, Sept. 18 — just two days before Owens’ scheduled execution — Golden signed a sworn statement: “Freddie was not present when I robbed the Speedway that day,” and that it was another man who killed Graves.

Fearing for his life, Golden added, “I thought the real shooter or his associates might kill me if I named him to the police. I am still afraid of that.”

While Golden had made a deal with prosecutors, he didn’t want Owens to pay the ultimate price for a crime he now says Owens never committed: “This has weighed heavily on my mind and I want to have a clear conscience.”

Even with that statement, though, the S.C. Supreme Court on Thursday night refused to stay Owens’ execution, which is scheduled to be carried out Friday at 6 p.m. — the first execution in the state in nearly 13 years.

Is Steven Golden’s seemingly heartfelt, conscience-driven revelation legitimate? It may well be.

Among known wrongful convictions, 64% involve perjury or false accusation.

Moreover, according to the Innocence Project, 29% of wrongful convictions overturned by DNA evidence involve a false confession — where the accused himself confessed to the crime — while 69% involved eyewitness misidentification.

In South Carolina alone, since the 1976 Supreme Court reinstatement, 60% of S.C. death sentences have been overturned due to court errors, prosecutorial misconduct, or ineffective counsel, according to South Carolinians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty and Justice 360.

This all begs the question, is it actually safer on death row than it is in the prosecutor’s office?

The data can’t be denied. People are lying; people are dying.

When I was at Georgetown Law, I learned that you can’t necessarily trust the reliability of testimony, confessions, or even video evidence. None are foolproof, and well over 30,000 years of life have been lost to wrongful imprisonment in America.

It’s up to the good lawyers in the world to figure out who those folks are and how to help them prove their innocence.

In South Carolina, we pride ourselves on bring “pro-life,” on nobly offering life-giving alternatives to women and a broad range of life-affirming choices.

Yet, as one of 27 states that still have the death penalty, we simultaneously maintain a legal system that allows the state to end the lives of its own citizens. This glaring contradiction sadly undermines South Carolina’s national credibility on issues of human life and dignity.

Supporters of the death penalty may argue that capital punishment is reserved only for the “worst of the worst” — those who have committed the most heinous crimes.

But if all human life is sacred, how can the state determine that some lives are more valuable than others?

Studies have consistently shown that the death penalty does not act as an effective deterrent to crime. However, the potential for wrongful convictions and the disproportionate application of capital punishment against marginalized groups make it an inherently flawed and unjust system.

Furthermore, the application of capital punishment in South Carolina has been anything but fair and equitable.

Studies have shown that defendants are far more likely to receive a death sentence if the victim of the crime is white, rather than Black. This racial bias is unacceptable in a justice system that claims to uphold the equal rights and dignity of all citizens.

Freddie, if you somehow see this, I don’t know what happened that dark Halloween night, but I do know this: Your life is valuable, too, no matter what you’ve done.

There are more than ten thousand people across our nation who agree and have signed a petition to stay your death. And if we lose, and you take your last earthly breath Friday, you are not alone.

It’s time for the Palmetto State to abolish capital punishment and align its actions with its professed values.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Otherwise, we are only pro-life for some, and there is no liberty and justice for all.

By