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Monday the 5th of May, 2008

You said…

You said you couldn’t stand to see my heart broken… So when you broke it, did you close your eyes?

Nobody…

Nobody I think about thinks about me as much as I think about them.

Never allow someone…

Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option.

Pain doesn’t hurt…

Pain doesn’t hurt when it’s all you’ve ever felt.

It’s getting harder…

It’s getting harder to remember your face.

Nothing hurts more…

Nothing hurts more than realizing he meant everything to you, but you meant nothing to him.

They laugh…

They laugh at me because I’m different; I laugh at them because they are all the same.

New Quotes / Sayings

Wednesday the 19th of March, 2008

Change the Message!

Sunday the 16th of March, 2008

A Public Statement to Mr. Obama

Dear Mr. Obama,

As the candidate who was running on the premise of change, and hope, and restoring trust back in Washington with a new kind of leader, you presented yourself as a uniter. A person who would “Rise Up” and “Change” Washington.

At first, I kept an open ear to your statements, much like I listened to John Edwards. And then, the initial Rezko scandal hit. And I didn’t honestly think it hurt you too bad. And then, you released your economic plan, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like how you wanted to raise taxes by 1.3 trillion dollars. I didn’t like how you didn’t support immediate foreclosure relief. I didn’t like how you wanted to keep borrowing $300 billion dollars from foreign governments to support your new spending proposals. But I still listened.

I listened mostly because I heard the rest of the country praising your name, and it’s not always fun going against what your friends are doing. I listened because I wanted to feel that “gotcha” moment that had fallen over the rest of my co-workers and the online communities that I read. I was still listening.

And then you started flip flopping on the issues. On Gun Control. On Universal Heath Care. On taking money from people to water down Senate bills (hint: If it walks like a lobbyist, talks like a lobbyist, and acts like a lobbyist… it’s not a mongoose.) And Mr. Obama, I started tuning out a little. But I was still listening.

I listened to you talk about “Change” and say that our nation needed to “Rise Up”. It sort of sounded like a broken record from earlier, but I listened.

And then I heard about Jeremiah Wright. I heard about him in March of 2007. And you were not strong on him then, but you did disavow his statement, the one you were “told” about. I thought “Maybe” back then, if he’s able to disavow someone like his own Pastor, he may be the real deal. But then we learned you kept him on your campaign committee. That’s not action Mr. Obama, that isn’t change - that’s an old political stunt of “I say one thing, but I do another.”

But I kept listening, I wanted to hear how you would handle this crisis. This was your moment to shine. And then I heard you, your own words, say that you weren’t aware that your own Pastor had said ANY of these words in his sermons besides the one you were alerted to back in March 2007.

I’ve been to church many times Mr. Obama, but not a regular. And even being a casual lay person to the church, I KNEW what was going on, I heard about what the pastor’s last sermon was all about. Mr. Obama, I went maybe once a month on a good month, and I knew what happened over the past month. And that’s without my church having a website that sold the sermons or offered web replays of them on demand.

But what has happened now, with the countless speeches, given on many different days, that have been brought to light, and with your acknowledged church attendance since 1992 on today’s interviews, you expect us - not as political hacks, but as Americans - to believe you when you say that you didn’t know of ANY of the hate filled speech that was going on?

Mr. Obama, most of America doesn’t believe you. We believe you have lied to our faces to cover your butt. You probably would have gotten out of this with less damage if you would have admitted that you knew about some of the hate filled crap that your pastor was spewing, but then tried defending him on his positive points that I’ve heard about him, like being a U.S. Marine, or the work that he and your church tries to do in the Chicago community.

It is clear now Mr. Obama, that you could only keep this charade up for so long. Nearly all the comments on the news message boards are things along these lines:

“My feelings for Obama have definitely changed. I really think the people of United States have an obligation to research Senator Obama and what he believes before they give him an office to lead all the people in the country.”

“Obama must be the only church goer who does not know what his preacher preaches. With this sort of attention to main themes I dont think he should run for office any longer.”

“I found Mr. Obama’s responses to be questionable. My support for Obama is in jeopardy. It is very hard to belive that after 20 years Barack could be suprised by the Pastor’s comments.”

I could go on, but you can go on to ABC News, CNN, and MSNBC and read them for yourself. They are overwhelmingly distrustful of you and your statement. And this is from the internet community who traditionally is your best demographic; who has defended you to the end on past issues.

It is now clear Mr. Obama, that the jig is up, and you have let your candidacy be permanently damaged. You have provided overwhelming fodder for Republicans in the general election. This lie, Mr. Obama, has ended any chance of myself or most Americans being able to support you. It is not the racist statements of your supporter, Mr. Obama, it is this lie that you have told with self-conviction that you did not know your pastor said any of these statements.

Continuing to stay in the democratic contest will do nothing but hurt you and hurt our chances in the general election. It is now, Mr. Obama, time to exit with grace and support the only candidate who still has a chance of defeating John McCain: Hillary Clinton.

Do the right thing Mr. Obama, and drop out now.

Monday the 10th of March, 2008

Are you listening?

Wednesday the 5th of March, 2008

I’m Alive via Celine Dion

Mmmmm ... Mmmmm ...
I get wings to fly
Oh, oh ... I’m alive ... Yeah

When you call on me
When I hear you breathe
I get wings to fly
I feel that I’m alive

When you look at me
I can touch the sky
I know that I’m alive

When you bless the day
I just drift away
All my worries die
I’m glad that I’m alive

You’ve set my heart on fire
Filled me with love
Made me a woman on clouds above

I couldn’t get much higher
My spirit takes flight
‘Cause I am alive

When you call on me
(When you call on me)
When I hear you breathe
(When I hear you breathe)
I get wings to fly
I feel that I’m alive
(I am alive)

When you reach for me
(When you reach for me)
Raising spirits high
God knows that…

That I’ll be the one
Standing by through good and through trying times
And it’s only begun
I can’t wait for the rest of my life

When you call on me
(When you call on me)
When you reach for me
(When you reach for me)
I get wings to fly
I feel that…

When you bless the day
(When you bless, you bless the day)
I just drift away
(I just drift away)
All my worries die
I know that I’m alive

I get wings to fly
God knows that I’m alive

Thursday the 13th of December, 2007

How Far We’ve Come via Matchbox Twenty

I’m waking up at the start of the end of the world,
but its feeling just like every other morning before,
Now I wonder what my life is going to mean if it’s gone,

The cars are moving like a half a mile an hour and I
and started staring at the passengers who’re waving goodbye
can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?

But I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we’re gonna find out
let’s see how far we’ve come
let’s see how far we’ve come
Well I, believe, it all, is coming to an end
oh well, I guess, we’re gonna pretend,
let’s see how far we’ve come
let’s see how far we’ve come

I think it turned ten o’clock but I don’t really know
then I can’t remember caring for an hour or so
started crying and I couldn’t stop myself
I started running but there’s no where to run to
I sat down on the street, took a look at myself
said where you going man you know the world is headed for hell
say all goodbyes if you’ve got someone you can say goodbye to

I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we’re gonna find out
let’s see how far we’ve come (right now)
let’s see how far we’ve come

Well I, believe, it all, is coming to an end
oh well, I guess, we’re gonna pretend,
let’s see how far we’ve come
let’s see how far we’ve come

Its gone gone baby its all gone
there is no one on the corner and there’s no one at home
well it was cool cool, it was just all cool
now it’s over for me and it’s over for you
well its gone gone baby its all gone
there’s no one on the corner and there’s no one at home
well it was cool cool, it was just all cool
now it’s over for me and it’s over for you

I believe the world is burning to the ground
oh well I guess we’re gonna find out
let’s see how far we’ve come
let’s see how far we’ve come
Well I, believe, it all, is coming to an end
oh well, i guess, we’re gonna pretend,
let’s see how far we’ve come, again
let’s see how far we go
let’s see how far we’ve come
let’s see how far we go
let’s see how far we’ve come
let’s see how far we go
let’s see how far we’ve come
let’s see how far we go
let’s see how far we’ve come

Sunday the 7th of October, 2007

Always Remember…

Tribute to Matthew Shepard (Flash File)

My son Matthew did not look like a winner. After all, he was small for his age—weighing, at the most, 110 pounds, and standing only 5’2” tall. He was rather uncoordinated and wore braces from the age of 13 until the day he died. However, in his all too brief life, he proved that he was a winner. My son—a gentle, caring soul—proved that he was as tough as, if not tougher than, anyone I have ever heard of or known. On October 6, 1998, my son tried to show the world that he could win again. On October 12, 1998, my first-born son—and my hero—lost. On October 12, my first-born son—and my hero— died 50 days before his 22nd birthday. He died quietly, surrounded by family and friends, with his mother and brother holding his hand. All that I have left
now are the memories....

Matt officially died at 12:53 a.m. on Monday, October 12, 1998, in a hospital in Fort Collins, Colorado. He actually died on the outskirts of Laramie tied to a fence that Wednesday before, when you beat him. You, Mr. McKinney, with your friend Mr. Henderson, killed my son....

By the end of the beating, his body was just trying to survive. You left him out there by himself, but he wasn’t alone. There were his lifelong friends with him—friends that he had grown up with. You’re probably wondering who these friends were. First, he had the beautiful night sky with the same stars and moon that we used to look at through a telescope. Then, he had the daylight and the sun to shine on him one more time—one more cool, wonderful autumn day in Wyoming. His last day alive in Wyoming. His last day alive in the state that he always proudly called home. And through it all he was breathing in for the last time the smell of Wyoming sagebrush and the scent of pine trees from the snowy range. He heard the wind—the ever-present Wyoming wind—for the last time. He had one more friend with him. One he grew to know through his time in Sunday school and as an acolyte at St. Mark’s in Casper as well as through his visits to St. Matthew’s in Laramie. He had God....

I feel better knowing he wasn’t alone....

Mr. McKinney, one final comment before I sit, and this is the reason that I stand before you now. At no time since Matt was found at the fence and taken to the hospital have Judy and I made any statements about our beliefs concerning the death penalty. We felt that that would be an undue influence on any prospective juror. Judy has been quoted by some right-wing groups as being against the death penalty. It has been stated that Matt was against the death penalty. Both of these statements are wrong. We have held family discussions and talked about the death penalty. Matt believed that there were incidents and crimes that justified the death penalty. For example, he and I discussed the horrible death of James Byrd, Jr. in Jasper, Texas. It was his opinion that the death penalty should be sought and that no expense should be spared to bring those responsible for this murder to justice. Little did we know that the same response would come about involving Matt. I, too, believe in the death penalty. I would like nothing better than to see you die, Mr. McKinney. However, this is the time to begin the healing process. To show mercy to someone who refused to show any mercy. To use this as the first step in my own closure about losing Matt. Mr. McKinney, I am not doing this because of your family. I am definitely not doing this because of the crass and unwarranted pressures put on by the religious community. If anything, that hardens my resolve to see you die. Mr. McKinney, I’m going to grant you life, as hard as that is for me to do, because of Matthew. Every time you celebrate Christmas, a birthday, or the Fourth of July, remember that Matt isn’t. Every time that you wake up in that prison cell, remember that you had the opportunity and the ability to stop your actions that night. Every time that you see your cell mate, remember that you had a choice, and now you are living that choice. You robbed me of something very precious, and I will never forgive you for that. Mr. McKinney, I give you life in the memory of one who no longer lives. May you have a long life, and may you thank Matthew every day for it.

Full Excerpt after the Break.

Scarecrow via Melissa Etheridge

Showers of your crimson blood
Seep into a nation calling up a flood
Of narrow minds who legislate
Thinly veiled intolerance
Bigotry and hate

But they tortured and burned you
They beat you and they tied you
They left you cold and breathing
For love they crucified you

I can’t forget hard as I try
This silhouette against the sky

Scarecrow crying
Waiting to die wondering why
Scarecrow trying
Angels will hold carry your soul away

This was our brother
This was our son
This shepherd young and mild
This unassuming one
We all gasp this can’t happen here
We’re all much too civilized
Where can these monsters hide

But they are knocking on our front door
They’re rocking in our cradles
They’re preaching in our churches
And eating at our tables

I search my soul
My heart and in my mind
To try and find forgiveness
This is someone child
With pain unreconciled
Filled up with father’s hate
Mother’s neglect
I can forgive But I will not forget

Scarecrow crying
Waiting to die wondering why
Scarecrow trying
Rising above all in the name of love

Dennis Shepard’s Statements to the Court
November 4, 1999

Your honor, members of the Jury, Mr. Rerucha:

I would like to begin my statement by addressing the jury. Ladies and gentlemen, a terrible crime was committed in Laramie thirteen months ago. Because of that crime, the reputation of the city of Laramie, the University of Wyoming, and the State of Wyoming became synonymous with gay bashing, hate crimes, and brutality. While some of this reputation may be deserved, it was blown out of proportion by our friends in the media. Yesterday you, the jury, showed the world that Wyoming and the city of Laramie will not tolerate hate crimes. Yes, this was a hate crime, pure and simple, with the added ingredient of robbery. My son Matthew paid a terrible price to open the eyes of all of us who live in Wyoming, the United States, and the world to the unjust and unnecessary fears, discrimination, and intolerance that members of the gay community face every day. Yesterday’s decision by you showed true courage and made a statement. That statement is that Wyoming is the Equality State; that Wyoming will not tolerate discrimination based on sexual orientation; that violence is not the solution. Ladies and gentlemen, you have the respect and admiration of Matthew’s family and friends and of countless strangers around the world. Be proud of what you have accomplished. You may have prevented another family from losing a son or daughter.

Your honor, I would also like to thank you for the dignity and grace with which this trial was conducted. Repeated attempts to distract the court from the true purpose of this trial failed because of your attentiveness, knowledge, and willingness to take a stand and make new law in the area of sexual orientation and the “Gay Panic” defense. By doing so you have emphasized that Matthew was a human being with all the rights and responsibilities and protections of any citizen of Wyoming.

Mr. Rerucha took the oath of office as prosecuting attorney to protect the rights of the citizens of Albany County as mandated by the laws of the state of Wyoming, regardless of his personal feelings and beliefs. At no time did Mr. Rerucha make any decision on the outcome of this case without the permission of Judy and me. It was our decision to take this case to trial, just as it was our decision to accept the plea bargain today and the earlier plea bargain of Mr. Henderson. A trial was necessary to show that this was a hate crime and not just a robbery gone bad. If we had sought a plea bargain earlier, the facts of this case would not have been known and the question would always be present that we had something to hide. In addition, this trial was necessary to help provide some closure to the citizens of Laramie, Albany County, and the state. I find it intolerable that the priests of the Catholic Church and the Newman Center would attempt to influence the jury, the prosecution, and the outcome of this trial by their castigation and persecution of Mr. Rerucha and his family in his private life, by their newspaper advertisements, and by their presence in the courtroom. I find it difficult to believe that they speak for all Catholics. If the leaders of churches want to comment as private citizens, that is one thing. If they say that they represent the beliefs of their church, that is another. This country was founded on separation of church and state. The Catholic Church has stepped over the line and has become a political group with its own agenda. If that be the case, treat them as a political group and eliminate their privileges as a religious organization.

My son Matthew did not look like a winner. After all, he was small for his age—weighing, at the most, 110 pounds, and standing only 5’2” tall. He was rather uncoordinated and wore braces from the age of 13 until the day he died. However, in his all too brief life, he proved that he was a winner. My son—a gentle, caring soul—proved that he was as tough as, if not tougher than, anyone I have ever heard of or known. On October 6, 1998, my son tried to show the world that he could win again. On October 12, 1998, my first-born son—and my hero—lost. On October 12, my first-born son—and my hero— died 50 days before his 22nd birthday. He died quietly, surrounded by family and friends, with his mother and brother holding his hand. All that I have left
now are the memories.

It’s hard to put into words how much Matt meant to family and friends and how much they meant to him. Everyone wanted him to succeed because he tried so hard. The spark that he provided to people had to be experienced. He simply made everyone feel better about themselves. Family and friends were his focus. He knew that he always had their support for anything that he wanted to try.

Matt’s gift was people. He loved being with people, helping people, and making others feel good. The hope of a better world free of harassment and discrimination because a person was different kept him motivated. All his life he felt the stabs of discrimination. Because of that he was sensitive to other people’s feelings. He was naive to the extent that, regardless of the wrongs people did to him, he still had faith that they would change and become “nice.” Matt trusted people, perhaps too much. Violence was not a part of his life until his senior year in high school. He would walk into a fight and try to break it up. He was the perfect negotiator. He could get two people talking to each other again as no one else could.

Matt loved people and he trusted them. He could never understand how one person could hurt another, physically or verbally. They would hurt him, and he would give them another chance. This quality of seeing only good gave him friends around the world. He didn’t see size, race, intelligence, sex, religion, or the hundred other things that people use to make choices about people. All he saw was the person. All he wanted was to make another person his friend. All he wanted was to make another person feel good. All he wanted was to be accepted as an equal.

What did Matt’s friends think of him? Fifteen of his friends from high school in Switzerland, as well as his high school adviser, joined hundreds of others at his memorial services. They left college, fought a blizzard, and came together one more time to say good-bye to Matt. Men and women coming from different countries, cultures, and religions thought enough of my son to drop everything and come to Wyoming—most of them for the first time. That’s why this Wyoming country boy wanted to major in foreign relations and languages. He wanted to continue making friends and at the same time help others. He wanted to make a difference. Did he? You tell me.

I loved my son and, as can be seen throughout this statement, was proud of him. He was not my gay son. He was my son who happened to be gay. He was a good-looking, intelligent, caring person. There were the usual arguments, and at times he was a real pain in the butt. I felt the regrets of a father when he realizes that his son is not a star athlete. But it was replaced with a greater pride when I saw him on the stage. The hours that he spent learning his parts, working behind the scenes, and helping others made me realize that he was actually an excellent athlete—in a more dynamic way—because of the different types of physical and mental conditioning required by actors. To this day I have never figured out how he was able to spend all those hours at the theater, during the school year, and still have good grades.

Because my job involved lots of travel, I never had the same give-and-take with Matt that Judy had. Our relationship at times was strained. But, whenever he had problems we talked. For example, he was unsure about revealing to me that he was gay. He was afraid that I would reject him immediately, so it took him a while to tell me. By that time, his mother and brother had already been told. One day he said that he had something to say. I could see that he was nervous, so I asked him if everything was all right. Matt took a deep breath and told me that he was gay. Then he waited for my reaction. I still remember his surprise when I said, “Yeah? OK, but what’s the point of this conversation?” Then everything was OK. We went back to a father and son who loved each other and respected the beliefs of the other. We were father and son, but we were also friends.

How do I talk about the loss that I feel every time I think about Matt? How can I describe the empty pit in my heart and mind when I think about all the problems that were put in Matt’s way that he overcame? No one can understand the sense of pride and accomplishment that I felt every time he reached the mountain top of another obstacle. No one, including myself, will ever know the frustration and agony that others put him through because he was different. How many people could be given the problems that Matt was presented with and still succeed as he did? How many would continue to smile—at least on the outside—while crying on the inside to keep other people from feeling bad?

I now feel very fortunate that I was able to spend some private time with Matt last summer during my vacation from Saudi Arabia. We sat and talked. I told Matt that he was my hero and that he was the toughest man that I had ever known. When I said that, I bowed down to him out of respect for his ability to continue to smile and keep a positive attitude during all the trials and tribulations that he had gone through. He just laughed. I also told him how proud I was because of what he had accomplished and what he was trying to accomplish. The last thing I said to Matt was that I loved him, and he said he loved me. That was the last private onversation that I ever had with him.

Impact on my life? My life will never be the same. I miss Matt terribly. I think about him all the time—at odd moments when some little thing reminds me of him; when I walk by the refrigerator and see the pictures of him and his brother that we’ve always kept on the door; at special times of the year, like the first day of classes at UW or opening day of sage chicken hunting. I keep wondering almost the same thing that I did when I first saw him in the hospital. What would we have become? How would he have changed his piece of the world to make it better?

Impact on my life? I feel a tremendous sense of guilt. Why wasn’t I there when he needed me most? Why didn’t I spend more time with him? Why didn’t I try to find another type of profession so that I could have been available to spend more time with him as he grew up? What could I have done to be a better father and friend? How do I get an answer to those questions now? The only one who can answer them is Matt. These questions will be with me for the rest of my life. What makes it worse for me is knowing that his mother and brother will have similar unanswered questions.

Impact on my life? In addition to losing my son, I lost my father on November 4, 1998. The stress of the entire affair was too much for him. Dad watched Matt grow up. He taught him how to hunt, fish, camp, ride horses, and love the state of Wyoming. Matt, Logan, dad, and I would spend two to three weeks camping in the mountains at different times of the year—to hunt, to fish, and to goof off. Matt learned to cook over an open fire, tell fishing stories about the one that got away, and to drive a truck from my father.

Three weeks before Matt went to the Fireside Bar for the last time, my parents saw Matt in Laramie. In addition, my father tried calling Matt the night that he was beaten but received no answer. He never got over the guilt of not trying earlier. The additional strain of the hospital vigil, being in the hospital room with Matt when he died, the funeral services with all the media attention and the protesters, [and] helping Judy and me clean out Matt’s apartment in Laramie a few days later was too much. Three weeks after Matt’s death, dad died. Dad told me after the funeral that he never expected to outlive Matt. The stress and the grief were just too much for him.

Impact on my life? How can my life ever be the same again?

When Matt was little, I used to take showers with him, just to teach him not to be scared of the water. Later, Matt helped me do the same thing with Logan. Anyway, Matt and I would be in the shower spitting mouthfuls of water at each other or at his mother, if he could convince her to come into the bathroom. Then he would laugh and laugh. We would also sing in the showers. I taught him the songs “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”; both “Brother John” and its French version, “Frère Jacques”; and “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” Matt would sing loud and clear. Now, that voice is silent, the boat has sunk, Jacques is no longer frère, and the little star no longer twinkles.

Matt officially died at 12:53 a.m. on Monday, October 12, 1998, in a hospital in Fort Collins, Colorado. He actually died on the outskirts of Laramie tied to a fence that Wednesday before, when you beat him. You, Mr. McKinney, with your friend Mr. Henderson, killed my son.

By the end of the beating, his body was just trying to survive. You left him out there by himself, but he wasn’t alone. There were his lifelong friends with him—friends that he had grown up with. You’re probably wondering who these friends were. First, he had the beautiful night sky with the same stars and moon that we used to look at through a telescope. Then, he had the daylight and the sun to shine on him one more time—one more cool, wonderful autumn day in Wyoming. His last day alive in Wyoming. His last day alive in the state that he always proudly called home. And through it all he was breathing in for the last time the smell of Wyoming sagebrush and the scent of pine trees from the snowy range. He heard the wind—the ever-present Wyoming wind—for the last time. He had one more friend with him. One he grew to know through his time in Sunday school and as an acolyte at St. Mark’s in Casper as well as through his visits to St. Matthew’s in Laramie. He had God.

I feel better knowing he wasn’t alone.

Matt became a symbol—some say a martyr, putting a boy-next-door face on hate crimes. That’s fine with me. Matt would be thrilled if his death would help others. On the other hand, your agreement to life without parole has taken yourself out of the spotlight and out of the public eye. It means no drawn-out appeals process, [no] chance of walking away free due to a technicality, and no chance of lighter sentence due to a “merciful” jury. Best of all, you won’t be a symbol. No years of publicity, no chance of communication, no nothing—just a miserable future and a more miserable end. It works for me.

My son was taught to look at all sides of an issue before making a decision or taking a stand. He learned this early when he helped campaign for various political candidates while in grade school and junior high. When he did take a stand, it was based on his best judgment. Such a stand cost him his life when he quietly let it be known that he was gay. He didn’t advertise it, but he didn’t back away from the issue either. For that I’ll always be proud of him. He showed me that he was a lot more courageous than most people, including myself. Matt knew that there were dangers to being gay, but he accepted that and wanted to just get on with his life and his ambition of helping others.

Matt’s beating, hospitalization, and funeral focused worldwide attention on hate. Good is coming out of evil. People have said “Enough is enough.” You screwed up, Mr. McKinney. You made the world realize that a person’s lifestyle is not a reason for discrimination, intolerance, persecution, and violence. This is not the 1920s, 30s, and 40s of Nazi Germany. My son died because of your ignorance and intolerance. I can’t bring him back. But I can do my best to see that this never, ever happens to another person or another family again. As I mentioned earlier, my son has become a symbol—a symbol against hate and people like you; a symbol for encouraging respect for individuality; for appreciating that someone is different; for tolerance. I miss my son, but I’m proud to be able to say that he is my son.

Mr. McKinney, one final comment before I sit, and this is the reason that I stand before you now. At no time since Matt was found at the fence and taken to the hospital have Judy and I made any statements about our beliefs concerning the death penalty. We felt that that would be an undue influence on any prospective juror. Judy has been quoted by some right-wing groups as being against the death penalty. It has been stated that Matt was against the death penalty. Both of these statements are wrong. We have held family discussions and talked about the death penalty. Matt believed that there were incidents and crimes that justified the death penalty. For example, he and I discussed the horrible death of James Byrd, Jr. in Jasper, Texas. It was his opinion that the death penalty should be sought and that no expense should be spared to bring those responsible for this murder to justice. Little did we know that the same response would come about involving Matt. I, too, believe in the death penalty. I would like nothing better than to see you die, Mr. McKinney. However, this is the time to begin the healing process. To show mercy to someone who refused to show any mercy. To use this as the first step in my own closure about losing Matt. Mr. McKinney, I am not doing this because of your family. I am definitely not doing this because of the crass and unwarranted pressures put on by the religious community. If anything, that hardens my resolve to see you die. Mr. McKinney, I’m going to grant you life, as hard as that is for me to do, because of Matthew. Every time you celebrate Christmas, a birthday, or the Fourth of July, remember that Matt isn’t. Every time that you wake up in that prison cell, remember that you had the opportunity and the ability to stop your actions that night. Every time that you see your cell mate, remember that you had a choice, and now you are living that choice. You robbed me of something very precious, and I will never forgive you for that. Mr. McKinney, I give you life in the memory of one who no longer lives. May you have a long life, and may you thank Matthew every day for it.

Your honor, members of the jury, Mr. Rerucha, thank you.

Friday the 6th of July, 2007

Never Again via Kelly Clarkson

I hope the ring you gave to her turns her finger green
I hope when your in bed with her, you think of me
I would never wish bad things, but I don’t wish you well
Could you tell, by the flames that burned your words

I never read your letter
‘Cos I knew what you’d say
Give me that Sunday school answer
Try and make it all OK

Does it hurt to know I’ll never be there
Bet it sucks, to see my face everywhere
It was you, who chose to end it like you did
I was the last to know
You knew exactly what you would do
And don’t say, you simply lost your way
She may believe you but I never will
Never again

If she really knows the truth, she deserves you
A trophy wife, oh how cute
Ignorance is bliss
But when your day comes, and he’s through with you
And he’ll be through with you
You’ll die together but alone

You wrote me in a letter
You couldn’t say it right to my face
Give me that Sunday school answer
Repent yourself away

Does it hurt to know I’ll never be there
Bet it sucks, to see my face everywhere
It was you, who chose to end it like you did
I was the last to know
You knew exactly what you would do
And don’t say, you simply lost your way
They may believe you but I never will
Never again

Never again will I hear you
Never again will I miss you
Never again will I fall to you
Never

Never again will I kiss you
Never again will I want to
Never again will I love you
Never

Does it hurt to know I’ll never be there
Bet it sucks, to see my face everywhere
It was you, who chose to end it like you did
I was the last to know
You knew exactly what you would do
And don’t say, you simply lost your way
They may believe you but I never will
I never will
I never will

Never again

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