ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, December 9, 1996 TAG: 9612090120
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DIANE STRUZZI STAFF WRITER
Lem Tuggle is a man of contradictions.
He wants forgiveness for his crimes, but won't admit to them. He says he takes responsibility for his actions, but he blames the people of his hometown for the person he became.
Now, the 44-year-old twice-convicted murderer hopes through death to find peace - from his past, his crimes and public condemnation.
He says he will be cremated and his ashes flown to England. He says he has claustrophobia, so he wants his ashes scattered in a "peaceful ... wooded-type area." He has already purchased the $50 plane ticket and entrusted his remains to friends he met through groups that oppose the death penalty. He will not offer more details.
"Dying doesn't bother me," Tuggle said last week in a telephone call from his cell at Mecklenburg Correctional Center in Boydton. "I have no fear of death. My religious beliefs are strong enough where they remove my fear."
A former Baptist, Tuggle converted to Catholicism in prison, attracted by its theology and the frequent visits by priests.
During his 12 years on death row, Tuggle has had time to prepare for death - unlike his victims. He seeks forgiveness from their families, saying he has changed, that he has found God. But he stops short of admitting his crimes and places the burden on others.
"The victims' family, or anyone I wronged, I ask for forgiveness," he said. "All I can do is ask. The Bible says ask. And once you ask, the responsibility falls on them.''
Even now, his claims will offer them little comfort. He contends that a third person actually strangled 17-year-old Shirley Mullins Brickey. And, he says, his gun accidentally fired during a struggle with Jessie Geneva Havens, whom he raped and murdered while out on parole for Brickey's death.
"I do feel responsible and I take responsibility for what happened," he said. "I'm very sorry that this has happened. I'm very sorry that a crime took place at all. Because I never should have had a gun."
Tuggle seeks to ease his conscience, yet he says it is not crucial for his peace.
"It doesn't matter a whole lot to me how I'm remembered," Tuggle said. "Other people already had their minds made up. They don't have the time to get to know me.
``My hope would be that my friends would remember me for what I am now rather than who I used to be," Tuggle said. "Kinder. Gentler. More mellow. More tolerant."
But his legacy remains the brutal killings he committed 12 years apart, in strikingly similar fashion.
Tuggle says he continued to appeal his death sentence only because a female friend requested he do so. But then he says he has always opposed the death penalty, calling it a political tool to gain votes.
On Thursday, the day he is scheduled to die, Tuggle is expecting visits from his friends from England and his spiritual advisers. He does not plan to see his mother and two sisters, who still live in Smyth County.
He remembers his hometown as a place where he grew up in poverty, where neighbors shunned him and where he began drinking at age 10.
"As long as I wasn't drinking, I was a nice guy," he said. "When I was drinking, anything could happen."
Father James Griffin, pastor of Chesapeake's St. Therese Roman Catholic Church, will accompany Tuggle during his last hours.
"If he did commit the crimes, and he's guilty of the crimes, then God will be the judge," Griffin said. "I just know [Tuggle] is dying a man of God. I wouldn't have said that 13 years ago."
Last year, nearly 11 hours before he was scheduled to be brought into the death room at Greensville Correctional Center, Tuggle received a stay of execution from the U.S. Supreme Court. That is not likely to happen Thursday. His appeals exhausted, Tuggle seems to be calm.
"I have strong religious beliefs," he said. "I've come to terms with what I have done. ... I'm very remorseful. But I'm not trying to convince anyone of that."
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