The Day Of My Execution

It is 7 am, Thursday March 28th 2019. The day the State of Texas wants to execute me. I have already been to the shower and now the guards are going to put me into the day room until it is time for my last day of visits. My property is packed and sorted. I have several legal-sized envelopes, each marked for whom they are meant for. I have five bags of property, one of which is my extra clothing, like T-shirts, shorts, and more.

When Ms Maddox, the property manager, arrives a little before 8 am, I relate to her that there are two books from the library on my shelf. She says that she will return them for me.

At 8 am, two guards arrive to escort me out to Visitation. Knowing that my clothing, all of it, will be taken away from me, I am dressed in all prison clothing, wearing my personal shoes and glasses that will be going with me to Huntsville.

The legal booth, where I have spent the past three days, is very small with very little ventilation, which is why I did not wear a T-shirt during the previous days. My special/last visits began on Monday, March 25th. On Monday and Tuesday, I was in here from 8 am to 5 pm; then Wednesday and today (Thursday) from 8 am to 12 noon.

I am supposed to have six visitors in a four-hour time span. From 8 am to 9 am, my Buddhist minister, Reverend Hui-Yong, and my dear friend Linda will visit. Then at 9 am to 10 am, my girlfriend, Robin, will be here. My only son Patrick and my sister Kristin will visit from 10 am to 11 am. And finally my dear friend, Shannon, will have the last hour with me.

The warden has allowed us to have photos taken today. Shannon almost missed out on the photo because the visitation guard waited so long to take the photo.

My first visits were interrupted twice by Sergeant Han. First he wanted to know what I ate for breakfast. I had two cups of tea, a Dr Pepper, and a protein bar from commissary. The second interruption was for me to sign a withdrawal slip for the money that was left in my trust fund account.

At a few minutes before noon, I can hear a lot of movement in the hallway, meaning that the extra guards and officials have arrived. Shannon and I both almost cry as we say our goodbyes. We kiss the glass for the first time and possibly the last. She waves and blows me a kiss as the guard escorts her away. Captain Smith comes to the door and talks to me. He shows me how I need to hold my hands to be handcuffed later. I hear several radios announcing that Shannon has left the building. Lt Newberry handcuffs me and escorts me to the restroom in Visitation. It appears that there are at least twenty people in the hall, some being the extra guards and officials.

I hear at least six radios announce that the visitor has left the prison property. It is only then that Lt Newberry handcuffs me again and I am escorted back to 12 Building. As I walk down the sidewalk, someone on B Pod knocks on the glass window of their cell. The knock is our way of saying goodbye and good luck. I nod my head towards them. The transport van is already parked in the gate. My heartbeat increases as I walk past it and into the building.

I am taken to the medical cage which sits in the hallway outside of C Pod. This is where we are taken when the nurse draws a blood sample. It is a heavy mesh cage, approximately six feet wide and seven feet tall, and is bolted to the floor. There are more people, witnesses, in the hallway. As I approach the cage, an unknown man steps towards me and says, “Murphy, you’ve gained weight” and I reply, “Yes sir, I have”.

Once I am locked inside the cage and the handcuffs are removed, I am thoroughly strip searched. My prescription eyeglasses and commissary running shoes are taken and placed in my property. I am a little worried about the glasses as they have been with me since the escape. The Lieutenant puts them inside my shoes so that hopefully they will be safe. There is a heater vent near the cage and it is very hot in here. I am actually feeling faint as I go through the strip search. I am told to walk around the inside of the cage. They have some sort of detector device outside the cage that, if I touch it, the cage will beep. I am sweating and dizzy from the heat, but am finally allowed to dress in all new clothing before being handcuffed again and taken out of the cage.

I am now required to kneel down and the shackles are put on my ankles. I notice right away that the left ankle is tighter which means it will rub and cause a sore spot and even maybe a scar. Once the shackles are on, I am helped to stand once again, and the chains from the shackles to the handcuffs are put on and adjusted. They want my hands to be at my waist. Once all the restraints are on, at least four men check them: Captain Smith, Warden Perez, Head Warden Butcher and one of the transportation officers.

I am then escorted out of the building to the waiting van. The Lieutenant is loading my property into the van. I can see that my property has been searched and randomly stuffed into the bags. I had carefully sorted and labelled the property as to who would get what, and now it is all messed up.

There are four guards in the van with me. An assistant warden from the Walls Unit is in the front passenger seat, armed with an AR 15 rifle. A captain is driving, armed with a 357 mag revolver. Another captain is sitting in front of me, also with a 357 mag. The final guard is a lieutenant, sitting in the rear of the van, armed with a 12 gauge shotgun. Once we are on the road, the warden turns to me and asks about my final appeals and what are my chances. I reply that my chances are “thin, very thin”.

The warden and I continue to talk. Forty plus miles from Polunsky to the Walls Unit is a surprisingly long trip. I have only left the prison one time during the past fifteen years and that was to go back to Dallas on a bench warrant, back in 2008 or 2009. I enjoy seeing Lake Livingston and tell that warden that, if I had known about this area of Texas when I was a free man, I might have moved to this area.

I have never been to the Walls Unit and the inside is very crowded with individual buildings. There seem to be a lot of guards present. The death house is difficult to get to; the van actually hits the wall as the captain makes a very tight hard left turn into the final approach.

The death house is the old death row which was used from 1954-1965. There are seven small open bar cells that each have a bunk, toilet/sink, and a table welded to the steel bars. There are two cells that only have a sink/toilet and they are for the trouble makes and ministers during their visits.

Once I am taken from the van and escorted into the death house, the restraints are removed and I am thoroughly strip searched again. I am given a clean pair of boxer shorts to put on, then fingerprinted twice. After being fingerprinted, I am locked in a cell and allowed to dress in new pants, shirt, socks and shoes. The bunk has been made up and even has a pillow. I also see that the cell door has three locks on it. There is a main lock which requires a big brass key, and there are two padlocks. Later I learn that it requires two separate guards to unlock the cell door.

After I am dressed, a group of officials comes to see me - the director, warden and several others. The warden tries to explain what the process is like. I will stay here in the cell until all of my legal procedures are over. Then, and only then, will I be escorted into the execution chamber and strapped to the gurney. The curtains to the witness room will be opened and I will be allowed to make a final statement. Then the drug will be started. After I am pronounced dead, the curtains will be closed.

Because I am a Buddhist, I have requested that my body be not touched or moved for at least seven minutes. This is symbolic of the Buddhist practice of not disturbing a body for seven days. I have requested that the chaplain not touch me at all.

Once the officials leave the cell, it is now 2 pm and the chaplain offers me some food. There is a plate of cookies and cake that I can choose from. I choose the cinnamon roll. The chaplain then explains about the phone calls. I am allowed to call anyone in the U.S. I already knew of this and have a list of phone numbers in an envelope inside my dictionary. The chaplain goes to get this list.

My first call is to my dear friend Shannon. Shannon and I have only known each other for nine months, but have grown very close in that short time. Shannon is also handling my final wishes to be cremated and who will get my remains. We speak for several minutes and say “I love you” a couple of times. I end the call to make another.

I think that it was after my third call that my Japanese friend, Kaori, calls the prison. I can only have calls from overseas if the caller phones the prison. Kaori and I have been writing for eight years and this is the first time we have spoken to each other. One thing I tell her is that, regardless of what happens to me tonight, the fight against the death penalty will continue.

At 3 pm I move to the cell next door for my visit with Reverend Hui-Yong, my first Buddhist teacher. We have been writing and visiting since 2011. The Reverend is wearing his bright yellow robe with the brown chanting “over robe”, at my request. I wanted him to look very Buddhist. We meet for about thirty minutes. I try to reassure him and everyone that I truly am at peace with what may happen.

People do not want to understand that at this point, I was very focussed upon 'this moment' and was not worried about what might happen. You see, in Buddhism, we practice Awareness. We are very aware of our actions and the actions of others. We are aware of this moment, this breath, this heartbeat. My practice of meditation is what helped me to focus my awareness. Don’t get me wrong; there was still a part of my mind that was screaming, “You fool – they are trying to KILL you!”. However, through my practice, I was able to ignore that voice and to focus on the moment. Really I do not know what I would have gone through if I had not had my practice.

At 3.30 pm, the Reverend leaves. I thank him for his friendship and support, then bow deeply to him and say, “O mi to Fo”. It is a Chinese chant, used in greetings and farewells. It is also used to call upon the Buddha. These will be my last words.

I am moved back to the other cell. The visit cell has a heavy steel screen welded to the bars to prevent any contact.

I wait until 3.40 to call Cody, my 16-year old grandson, after he gets out of school. Cody and I have only seen each other once. We speak for several minutes before we get serious. Unknowingly, he gives me the one thing that I truly want to hear – he calls me “Grandfather”. At this point, I begin to cry. Even now, just thinking about that call makes me cry. I know he can hear it in my voice as I thank him. A few minutes later, I have to end the call and try to pull myself back together. That was the first time in a long time that I cried.

I take a break in between calls to eat a little. I was given the choice between a BBQ chicken plate or a breakfast plate. I chose the breakfast plate that had scrambled eggs, French fries, biscuits and gravy. I have always liked eggs and these looked very good.

As I am eating, the operator calls and asks if I want to talk to my Aunt Linda whom I have not seen since my trial. Aunt Linda is in a nursing home with my sister Sheryl. Sheryl had a major stroke three years ago and has been in a home ever since. I talk to both of them. After a few minutes, Sheryl begins to cry, saying how much she has missed me. I try to hold it together but ask to talk to our aunt. I tell them that if I am still here tomorrow, they should send me their address and I will stay in touch with them (and this promise I have kept).

After 4 pm, I call my son Patrick at the hospitality house. I won’t repeat what we said but it was a difficult phone call. After speaking to him, I ask him to give the phone to my sister Kristina. She begins to cry a few minutes into our conversation. I assure her that I am at peace and that I love her.

I make my last phone call, just before 5 pm, to my sweetheart Shannon. I try to keep things light. To my surprise, her son Joseph is there and I tell him to keep the house clean and to take care of his mom. Shannon and I say “I love you” to each other. I tell her that on Monday, I am going on a diet and exercise. She tells me to make sure we still meet. At 5 pm, we say goodbye and the guard takes the phone away.

They also come and take all the food away, though I kept a biscuit to nibble on. I don’t know if I could ask for more to eat and decide not to. I do drink more cold sweet tea. I was brought up on sweet tea and Dr Pepper.

For the next two and a half hours, I talk to the chaplains with, at one time, there being four chaplains there. I am almost never alone. The chaplains never really push their religion, though they were wanting me to convert and accept Christ. I felt like they were ganging up on me. They have me a lot to think about. I won’t lie – as I sat in that cell, I did a little soul-searching. I am still at peace with myself. I made a choice to be a Buddhist and have stood by that choice all the way.

A guard came to watch me. We realised that we had been at the Ferguson Unit together so talked about the many people we knew.

It was shortly after 8 pm when the assistant warden, the one who brought me here, come in the door. I missed it when he told the door guard that I had a 'stay' but when he told me, I covered my face with my hands and said, “Oh, thank you!”. I actually have mixed emotions about the stay. I feel both happy and let down over it. I was ready for all this to be over and to move onto my next life. Really I was not expecting to be alive at this time.

I was then taken out of the cell and yet again when through the infamous strip search. The clothes I was given from the Walls Unit were taken back and I put the Polunsky outfit back on. Restraints, shackles and handcuffs were also put back on, and I was loaded back into the van with my property and the same officers. Before leaving the Death House, I told the guards that I thought they were very respectful and very professional.

On the way back to Polunsky, the assistant warden told me that he thought I would get the stay. He said it was because of how I talked about my chances – I had said that I had a very slim chance.

I did not speak much on the return trip because I was in a state of shock. Lieutenant Hunter greeted me upon my return. I was put into a filthy cell in a section all by myself on C Pod, but was told not to unpack because I would be moved in the morning. However, I did unpack my coffee pot and radio. At midnight, I was drinking coffee and listening to country music.

It is hard to believe I am still here.

I see a bug crawling across the floor and pick it up to flush it down the toilet. I stand there, watching it swim around and think, “Who are you to condemn this bug?”. I reach back into the toilet to pick it up and put the little guy on the floor. I had just received mercy. Who am I to judge another? I am no one. I bow to the bug. “Go in peace, little brother. O mi to Fo.”

Patrick Murphy aka Hui-Com, Texas