A life & death matter

Two days after Christmas about 13 years ago in a house on Drury Lane, Emma Fabela's son, Cesar, was shot in the head with a .22-caliber rifle. 

He died the next morning in an Odessa hospital, leaving his mother, father and sister to pick up the shattered remains of the family and try to put it all back together.

Compounding Fabela's grief was the identity of the shooter, 16-year-old Albert Lopez - her son's best friend.
"I was trying to figure out why, of course," she said. "This was a boy that we had taken into our home. He had accompanied us on several family vacations."

Now Lopez is out after about 10 years in prison, and Fabela said there are no hard feelings.
"When I heard that he was out of prison, I was afraid at that moment," said Fabela, who now owns Fabela's restaurant on West County Road 127 in Midland County just off FM 1788 near Interstate 20. "It's one thing for us to say that we have forgiven, and it's another thing to actually practice it."

Now that the scars of her son's death have faded with time, Fabela said she's thankful his killer is still alive, unlike the 439 other men and women whom the state has put to death by lethal injection since 1982.

In fact, she said she has come face to face with her son's killer since his release from prison. 

"Did I stop and embrace him? No, I didn't," Fabela said. "I just saw him and felt sorry for him. I felt pity because I'm sure it's hard to live dealing with the fact that you are the person who took somebody else's life."

In 2008, the state of Texas executed 18 people.

Today, you may see Fabela, herself a sort of murder victim, out near the county courthouse every time a Texas inmate is put to death by the state. Fabela and dozens of others show up to protest there because they are staunch opponents of the death penalty. 

"With me personally, I feel that a lot of the times we focus more on what the person has done," she said. "It's very hard for the families that have had a loved one killed, but it's not just what the person has done, but more what caused the person to act in doing that."

Standing next to her during the vigils, you're likely to see the Rev. Mark Miller of the Catholic churches of south Odessa.

Miller, along with seven other local clergymen, solidified their effort to end the death penalty in Texas last month by creating an official local chapter of the Texas Coalition Against the Death Penalty, just in time for the 200th execution since the election of Gov. Rick Perry in 2000.

Their goal, beyond the mere cessation of the death penalty, is nothing less than a systemic change to the way Texas society looks at and deals with crime, Miller said.

"We're only punishing the perpetrator," he said. "But punishing the perpetrator doesn't really help the victim's family or the break within the community."

The coalition, Miller said, wants to take a new approach to the way criminals are punished, but it also wants to mend the collateral and direct damage inflicted on victims' families and the community at large.

He said crime often reaches deeply into a community and leaves it violated, betrayed and broken.
The approach calls for a return to the drawing board and a reconciliatory process involving the perpetrator, the victims, their families and the community - an open dialogue like Fabela had with Lopez after his release.

Admittedly, Miller said, enacting such a "real switch" from the state's current justice system, which focuses strictly on punitive action, will be fraught with obstacles.     
 
"It's a new model," he said, "a model tied to acquiring more of a non-violent response to life, instead of just adding violence to violence."

Politicians, at this point in time, he said, are too obsessed with "holding the line" politically to propose a new approach to a what is seen by many as a broken system that fails to address the inherent causes of crime by taking an eye for an eye - a biblical reference he said is often misinterpreted.

"Too many people look upon non-violence as a passive view on life," Miller said, "but to be non-violent is an active choice."

"When you look at people like Martin Luther King and Gandhi," he smiled, "they were not passive wimps."

The way Miller sees it, God has no tolerance for death, even if it is socially accepted like the death penalty - he added that prison death certificates after an execution list the cause of death as "legal homicide."

"We think it should be considered in the sense that it is a life issue," Miller said. "We can't even give (life) away. That's why we don't accept suicide. We don't even have the right to take our own lives, much less somebody else's."

With people like the Fabelas, people armed with firsthand experiences, Miller and his colleagues hope to become a source of strength when local families are attacked.

They hope to be a source of strength for people like Lopez's family, who have their own crosses to bear.

"We have been able to overcome the anger," Fabela said. "We have been able to deal with it, and we know that we haven't had to deal with it alone."

PUNISHABLE BY DEATH IN TEXAS
The following offenses are punishable by death in the Lone Star State.
>> Murder of a public safety officer or firefighter.
>> Murder during the commission of kidnapping, burglary, robbery, aggravated sexual assault, arson or obstruction or retaliation.
>> Murder for remuneration.
>> Murder during prison escape.
>> Murder of a correctional employee.
>> Murder by a state prison inmate who is serving a life sentence for any of five offenses (murder, capital murder, aggravated kidnapping, aggravated sexual assault or aggravated robbery).
>> Multiple murders.
>> Murder of an individual younger than 6 years of age.

>> Source: Texas Department
of Criminal Justice

want to help?

>> If you'd like to join the Rev. Mark Miller's local coalition or would like more information, call 337-2213.

ON THE NET
>> Texas Department of Criminal Justice's death row website: www.tdcj.state.tx.us/stat/deathrow.htm