On Tuesday evening, at approximately 6:10 p.m., David Lee Powell became the 458^th person executed by the State of Texas—the 13^th put to death this year. There were a number of things that distinguished Powell from other death row inmates—all of which were reported by the Houston Chronicle the day before his execution. First, he had been incarcerated 32 years before his execution—making him the sixth longest term inmate of Texas’ 322 condemned inmates. Second, Powell saw all 457 condemned inmates go to their death since Charles Brooks was executed on December 7, 1982—the date the state re-started its death penalty machine after the 1976 U.S. Supreme Court ruling which gave constitutional license to the death penalty. Third, Powell was one of the longest serving death row inmates put to death in this country—one year shy of the 33 year mark set my Jack  

            Powell was a convicted “cop killer”—a conviction that makes execution almost certain in Texas, no matter how long the inmate lives on death row. It didn’t matter that Powell had become a changed man during his three-decade confinement on death row. His attorney, Richard Burr, said he had lived an “exemplary life on death row.” His attitude changed, he graduated from high school as a valedictorian, was enrolled in an honors program at the University of Texas, taught other inmates how to read, and even protected prison guards from attack by other inmates. He wrote a letter to the victim’s family, saying: “The senseless death of Ralph Ablanedo has weighed heavily on my soul always. When I killed Officer Ablanedo, I killed some part of myself. I have known no peace since.”

            The victim’s family was not impressed either by Powell’s remorse or his death row achievements. “It’s been a long time,” Bruce Mills, Ablanedo son’s told the media. “I think the process has been more than fair to him, and I think he’s had an opportunity to make his case.” Ablanedo fellow officers, and in particular the officer who with him the night he was killed, felt the same way. “We’re looking forward to it finally being over, no question,” Ablanedo partner that fatal night told the media. “The word we keep describing is relief.”

            Law enforcement officers uniformly feel that when a “cop killer” is put to death, their jobs are made safer. They cite a study by researchers from Sam Houston University and Duke University—a study reported in the Criminologist—that found the number of murders decreased during the month of an execution and also in the month following an execution. I blogged about that study here. The issue of whether or not actual executions deter murder is still very much a subjected of heated debate, but it clearly satisfies the need of law enforcement to exact revenge against those who kill one of their own—no matter how long it takes to get the job done. 150 current and former Austin police officers traveled to Huntsville to witness the execution.

            In the end David Lee Powell elected not to make a final statement. He simply fixed his eyes on the family of the slain officer until his head turned away as the lethal injection cocktail took effect.  Ablanedo’s widow, Judy Mills, gripped her son’s hand as the drugs accomplished their purpose. The law enforcement officers attending the execution formed seven lines and served as an “honor guard” for the slain officer’s family.

            Death penalty protestors were not impressed. They called the execution an act of “murder” by the State of Texas. Police officers broke rank and cheered the impending execution.

            In the end, nothing was truly accomplished. A convicted murderer was put to death. The slain officer’s family, if honest, did not feel closure, and whatever revenge satisfaction the law enforcement contingent felt was short lived as they returned to the stress and pressure of their daily lives. Powell’s supporters walked away, disgusted no doubt but resigned to the fact that their voices will never be heard in the State of Texas.