Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, January 25, 1995 TAG: 9501280025
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CODY LOWE STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: JARRETT LENGTH: Medium
At 9:14 p.m., 14 minutes after the first injection of chemicals, Edmonds was pronounced dead.
Edmonds, sentenced to die for the robbery and murder of a Danville grocer in 1983, pursued court appeals into the last day of his life. Despite the conclusion of a federal judge in Roanoke last weekend that Edmonds' Sixth Amendment right to effective counsel had been denied, there was to be no new trial, no stay of execution.
He was the 25th person executed since Virginia reinstated the death penalty in 1976.
Among the 11 official witnesses was Del. Phillip Hamilton, R-Newport News, who introduced the legislation that allows inmates the option of death by lethal injection rather than electrocution.
``This did reaffirm my belief that this was a less violent form of execution,'' said Hamilton, who previously had witnessed an electrocution.
His bill to legalize lethal injection was rejected by lawmakers several times before passing last year.
An advocate of the death penalty, Hamilton contended that there is ``no humane way'' to put a person to death, but that he was convinced that executions need not be so violent.
At 8:25 p.m., the witnesses were ushered into the viewing area. A hospital-type gurney with outstretched panels for the inmate's arms already was set up. Behind it was a blue curtain blocking the view of the electric chair. The curtain was pierced by two holes about halfway between floor and ceiling through which were dangling the two lines for the intravenous injections and a separate line for a heart monitor.
At 8:42, Edmonds entered, appearing calm and walking deliberately to the table. A contingent of seven uniformed corrections employees immediately surrounded him, blocking the witnesses' view of Edmonds as leather straps were fastened around his chest, legs, ankles and forearms.
A second blue plastic curtain was drawn in front of the witness room windows, hiding the insertion into Edmonds' forearms of the catheters through which the chemicals would be injected.
Witnesses - who now included a number of clergy and friends, some of whom had been with him during his final hours - waited in silence for the next 15 minutes, unable to see the procedure but told that the insertion of the catheters had gone ahead of schedule and that the curtain would remain drawn until it was time for the injection.
At 8:47, the curtain was reopened and Edmonds made a brief statement. His voice was low, however, and the audio system to the witness room garbled his message. Witnesses agreed that he said words about the ``grace of God'' and that ``no one could take him from this earth.'' He also talked about forgiveness for those left behind.
At precisely 9 p.m., the injection of sodium pentothal, Pavulon and potassium chloride began. Edmonds turned his gaze from the ceiling only once, glancing briefly at the clock over the door through which he had entered the death chamber. He blinked a few times, wiggled his feet for a couple of seconds, then appeared to become completely still except for shallow breathing. His breathing stopped at 9:02, then resumed for a few seconds before stopping again.
His body remained still until the curtain was pulled shut at 9:15. Prison officials later said his death was pronounced at 9:14 p.m.
Edmonds' execution signaled the end to an established execution protocol, some elements of which date back to 1908, when Virginia first began to use the electric chair.
For the past 20 years, tradition has provided for the imposition of the sentence at 11 p.m., allowing prisoners to have as long a last day as possible to seek to be spared. Corrections officials said that since the modern appeals process already drags out for years or decades, that is no longer necessary. They also said the earlier hour cuts down on overtime and prison disruption, and shortens the stressful wait for prison staff.
by CNB