US Supreme Court Sends Troy Davis to his Death

Hi Kavita,

I wanted to take some pictures Monday night but the counselor went home.
I’ll place a request to purchase a few photo coupons so we can take pictures during our next visit. I’m looking forward to it.
Personally I’m doing fine. I’m patiently waiting to hear some good news from the U.S Supreme Court. I’m ready to go home and begin the rest of my life..
They moved me back into my old cell yesterday evening.
This morning I went outside and played a few games of basketball. ..and got plenty of exercise…:)”

My eyes blur with unshed tears as I read this hand written note from Troy. I notice that he has this endearing habit of signing his name as Mr. Troy Davis. It had made me smile when I had read it for the first time.
His hand writing is large and sprawling but meticulous. He does not forget to put a smiley face and he does not forget to say “God Bless You” when he ends.

Just last week, I sent him a hand painted card for his birthday on the 9th.

I wrote the following on many blogs including my own website-

Troy Davis turns 40 today - and he still waits for some reason to celebrate this day.
As a kid he loved G.I. Joe and got many of those figurines for his birthday, recalls sister Martina Correia. Birthdays were fun events in the family backyard with cake, ice cream and hot dogs and some nice gifts. Martina was not around when Troy turned 16, a special birthday for any teenager but sent him gifts while training in the Military. Little would she know that his 21st birthday would be behind bars and on death row.

A maximum security prison is hardly the perfect haven to celebrate a special occasion. That too of inmates whose spirit is being broken through isolation, bad nutrition, and a non productive life style.

The only exceptions are July 4th when they get hamburgers and hot dogs to celebrate Independence day, or when a convict is executed. Then the guards get a special barbecue meal. When an inmate receives a lot of cards they may just acknowledge the birthday briefly as the guards read the mail. Once a month they rent a DVD and the inmates can watch a movie. There is a TV which is controlled by the guards and the inmates can watch that.

They were allowed unlimited books-not any more. Now its seven, the number of visitors too has been cut down drastically and there are not many activities except for a short outing in an enclosed area with a basketball hoop where they can shoot baskets on concrete floors.

“Many inmates have diabetes and hypertension because of the food they get to eat,” says Martina. “There are many inmates with HIV/AIDS and Hepatitis, and don’t get medical treatment. The inmates have to pay 5 dollars each time they visit the doctor and if there is no family to finance them, then they remain untreated unless they are dying.”

Last year a death row inmate died of cancer and a major news paper reported it as-death row inmate escapes death by dying of cancer.” Ironic.
The winter months are harsh. The inmates sleep with 4-5 thin military style blankets, the heating is inadequate. “Last year to conserve energy, they cut off the hot water daily from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. and so many people fell sick taking cold baths. If someone sends you money, they charge you a dollar per month as tax in he prison. The inmate has to buy everything from the prison store, so that the prison can make some money.”

Martina says her family has never been far away from Troy. They used to send Troy 3-4 boxes of things that he could use, but now its been cut to one 15 pound box once a year. Martina and her family has visited Troy for every birthday, and every holiday they could. They have sent individual cards from each family member and friend. Cards that said-even though he is across the miles, he is with them. “We have a present under the Christmas tree for Troy each year. The pile is waiting for him, when he comes back. My mother still wakes up at 6 a.m. every Sunday to cook an elaborate Sunday dinner as if she is still cooking for a houseful of growing kids. Troy used to love her cooking and ate everything!”

The US Supreme Court had asked for more time to look at the information before it gave its decision on Tuesday, the 14th of October.

Today October 14th the highest court in the country proved that it chose technicality over humanity, and denied Troy’s appeal. They handed their decision without a comment said one newspaper. The Washington Post however had this to say-“In refusing to hear a full appeal, the court maintained the high bar it has set for assertions of innocence following convictions in capital cases. Georgia now can set a new date for Davis's execution, because the court's stay expires with today's order.”

The highest bar? Even if it meant killing a possibly innocent man?

There is no closure for the MacPhail family, says Mark MacPhail’s mother. Forgiveness brings a closure like no other, but when we lose a loved one, we forget everything but the need for revenge.

Since then I have sat numb with shock. I didn’t have the courage to call Martina and just sent her a text message, until I could compose myself. Troy is a brave man-his sister Martina redefines the word courage.

I’m unfortunately not as brave nor do I have the kind of faith that they do-and so I crumble….Life teaches you many lessons through example..I’m afraid I just don’t understand this one..

Why don’t we get help for Depression?

At first it was just a headline

Unemployed man kills five members of family, then shoots self

I was talking to a couple of friends on a conference call, when the news flashed before my eyes. As I read the headline out aloud, one of them said-“Must be one of those lower middle class Americans behind on payments. The other said, “Or maybe he lost a lot of money in the stock market.”

As I clicked on the link to open the story, it turned out that the man, Karthik Rajaram, had an MBA in finance, had worked for Sony and Price Waterhouse, and lived in a house worth just under a million dollars in a gated community. He had been unemployed for a few months, and in a premeditated plan, killed his 19 year old son a Fulbright scholar and Honors student at UCLA,who was home for the weekend, two younger sons aged 9 and 7, his wife and his mother in law before turning the gun on himself. And he was from India.

India? Both my friends gasped- What? India?

Indeed, this so called model minority that is known for its super achieving academicians and is among the most affluent in America, also has a dark side-that of struggling to keep up pretences, of always worrying about what would people say, and not seeking help/

There is denial-What? I’m not mad. Why should I go for counseling? There is fear- What if anyone finds out?

Evidently Rajaram, too did not seek help. Instead he bought a gun last month, wrote three detailed notes, see sawed between killing himself and killing every member of his family. He chose the latter. Perhaps he thought he would have peace of mind if they all went with him.

I looked at the story and felt incredible sadness and anger. What right does a human being have, to snuff out 5 other lives against their will? Why should they pay the price of one man’s anguish and depression.

But it’s not an easy question to answer. The close ties that bind an Indian family and the responsibilities that come with it can often be back breaking. Add to that the time bound expectation that it’s the man who is the main bread winner. In trying times, when a crisis sweeps you off your feet, the sense of failing all those expectations are over whelming and can result in such tragedies.

I also realized as I sat thinking-it’s really not just an Indian problem. The sense of shame and inadequacy someone feels when they don’t meet expectations-of others close to them or their own cuts through barriers of color, race and cultures.

Another thing that is a continuous refrain is the sentence that I read-it said, the family kept to themselves and seemed like nice people. This lack of inclusiveness that I see in society today seems to be a big reason why people are lonely and depressed-angry and frustrated.

I remember growing up in India and the entire sub division was our extended family. Every one knew how everyone else was. People chipped in to help each other in times of need and joined the revelry on every happy occasion.

Do we have to face such extreme tragedies to really appreciate what is truly important in life or will we all continue to run helter skelter popping sedatives to sleep, another pill to wake up, and chew anti depressants like candy.

Something is really really wrong with the way we live today..