As it approached midnight on Dec. 13, the chilly Black Repertory Theater grew quiet. About 100 high school students, community leaders and others watched as the red velvet curtain was drawn and the harshly lit stage revealed a spare set. Its focal point: a gurney covered with a white sheet.

Three witnesses stood on wooden risers off to one side, and a nurse donned rubber gloves and pushed a rolling intravenous fluid bag. A guard led a shackled prisoner, who was dressed in blue denim and wearing wire-rimmed glasses.

The 2005 execution of Stanley Tookie Williams attracted death penalty foes, celebrities and politicians from around the globe. A year later, a much smaller group gathered in a Berkeley theater to memorialize the former gang leader in a dramatic re-enactment of his death by lethal injection.

Williams' longtime friend and co-author Barbara Becnel wrote the script for "Witness to an Execution," a scene from a forthcoming play, together with Shirley Neal, a vice president of The Africa Channel. Both women, who witnessed last year's execution, said they wanted all Californians to see what they called state-sanctioned "killing."

"This is political theater in the extreme," Becnel said after several hours of music and speeches commemorating Williams' work to keep young people away from gangs and violence.

Williams, 51, co-founded the Crips in Los Angeles and murdered four people during a pair of Los Angeles robberies in 1979. Supporters said he earned redemption by writing children's books and giving speeches steering young people away from crime.

"This is not easy. It takes us right back," Becnel said, struggling to keep her composure. "It's important that you see what the state does in the middle of the night in your name."

___

THE REAL & THE RE-ENACTED

During the re-enactment, the nurse roughly and arduously worked to find a vein as the actor portraying Williams, Darby Tillis — himself an exonerated death row prisoner from Illinois — looked sideways to see his supporters mouthing the words "I love you." (Tillis and another man were tried five times for two murders in a 1977 Chicago robbery and were acquitted in 1987 after nine years in prison.)

Williams' real-life execution took much longer than the 15-minute re-enactment. He grew obviously frustrated as prison staff struggled to insert the intravenous lines in his arms. Strapped down at the waist, arms and legs, he was unable to move anything but his head. With the witnesses behind and on either side of him, he turned frequently to make eye contact.

The room, an old gas chamber, was dark and antiquated, with exposed pipes and water radiators. More than two dozen witnesses stood on rows of wooden risers. No sounds were heard other than those of the prison staff behind thick glass, inside the chamber.

After about 15 minutes, Williams appeared to ask, "You doing that right?" He died about 20 minutes later, at 12:35 a.m.

The atmosphere at San Quentin State Prison is nearly impossible to replicate. But between the late hour, the dark theater, the harshly bright stage and the silent audience, the performance was likely as close as possible.

___

RIPPLES OF AN EXECUTION

Though it's been more than a year since Williams was put to death, his execution continues to reverberate through the justice system.

In February, a federal judge halted the execution of rapist and murderer Michael Morales after his lawyers cited Williams' death and others to support their claim that lethal injection is cruel and unusual punishment.

Last week, the same judge declared the method unconstitutional. U.S. District Judge Jeremy Fogel reached his decision after a hearing revealed prison guards were inadequately trained to participate in executions. One prison official who was part of the execution team had been sanctioned for smuggling drugs into San Quentin.

Also, drugs used in executions were not properly accounted for, at times they weren't properly mixed, and unused drugs were not returned to the prison's pharmacy. Executioners worked in the crowded chamber under dim lights.

"The evidence is more than adequate to establish a constitutional violation," Fogel said.

Fogel said he was satisfied that the three drugs could kill an inmate without unnecessary pain, but not the way the state has been carrying out executions. But Fogel wondered whether the combination of drugs was necessary, given that the American Veterinarian Association said it would not euthanize animals the same way California executes inmates.

Becnel agreed, after watching her friend die.

"We knew something had gone terribly wrong, but we didn't understand," she said.

___

asap contributor Kim Curtis is an AP reporter based in San Francisco.

Only registered users can write comments.
Please login or register.