Post by Admin on May 20, 2007 18:07:19 GMT -5
Plays about Lucasville riot, Clarence Darrow spotlight death penalty
By Daniel Sturm
Athens NEWS Contributor
Monday, April 16th, 2007
Post a comment || Email this article
What?" responded one Ohio University student in disbelief after finding out that Ohio still enforces the death penalty. She was shaken to hear that, since 2004, Ohio has been the second-highest execution state in the country, following Texas. Most of the 195 death-row inmates are now housed at the supermax prison in Youngstown. A day before the execution, prisoners are transported to the "death house" at Southern Ohio Correctional Facility in Lucasville.
Ohio places most of its death-row inmates in a fancy high-tech prison. The Ohio State Penitentiary, in Youngstown, was constructed in response to the 1993 Lucasville prison rebellion, for a cost of $85 million.
Aiming to lift the veil between the condemned and the outside world, an Ohio civil rights lawyer and a California theater director have joined forces, to bring two gripping plays about the death penalty to Ohio. "Lucasville: The Untold Story of a Prison Uprising" comes to Athens on Sunday, April 22 (7:30 p.m., Mitchell Auditorium, Seigfred Hall). The exclusive debut will tour with the nationally acclaimed one-man piece, "Clarence Darrow: The Search for Justice" (2 p.m., same location).
The American Civil Liberties Union of Ohio and the OU Department of Sociology and Anthropology are co-sponsoring the double feature.
The "Lucasville" play is based on Staughton Lynd's definitive history of the prison rebellion. In April 1993, prisoners took over a cellblock in the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility. During the riot, nine prisoners and one correctional officer were murdered. About 2,000 law-enforcement officers surrounded the prison in a stand-off that was covered by national media outlets.
In retrospect, The Columbia Journalism Review wrote that, "Glaring mistakes were reported as fact and never corrected. Reporters vied for atrocity stories. They ran scary tales - totally false, it was later found - that spread panic and paranoia throughout the region." Based on Lynd's book documenting the true events of the rebellion, the Lucasville play aims to set the record straight.
The play acts out the trial for the murder of correctional officer Vallandingham, focusing on the predicament of the five prisoners who were accused of being responsible for this crime. George Skatzes, Siddique Abdullah Hasan, Jason Robb, James Were and Keith Lamar are all currently on death row and pursuing appeals. The conviction of these five was based on the snitch testimonies of other prisoners involved in the riot, and made without any physical or DNA evidence. Were the right men convicted? The play challenges the audience to decide.
Called a "Saint of the American Left" by Democracy Now's Amy Goodman, the civil rights attorney and historian Staughton Lynd has made it his fight to regulate Ohio's prisons and abolish the death penalty. He and his wife, Alice, live in a small bungalow in Niles, near Youngstown. In the 1960s, Lynd was the director of the Mississippi Freedom Schools and taught history alongside Howard Zinn at Spellman College. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, when the steel mills closed, Lynd represented the workers, and then turned to the prison-industrial complex that had risen in the steel industry's wake.
Recognizing the importance of Lynd's work, Gary L. Anderson, who manages American Legends Theatre in Redding, Calif., decided to join forces with the civil-rights attorney. He had artistically dealt with the controversial issue of the death penalty before the Lucasville play, in the nationally touring one-man show, "Clarence Darrow: The Search for Justice." The native Ohio lawyer, Clarence Darrow (1857-1938), is most famous for his work in the Scopes "Monkey" Trial. Fighting against social injustice and racism, over the course of his career Darrow managed to save 102 men from execution. Despite the serious nature of the subject matter of these two plays, Anderson emphasized that both offer plenty of opportunity for a good laugh.
STURM: What inspired you to direct "Lucasville: The Untold Story of a Prison Uprising"?
ANDERSON: On the 4th of July, I was in San Francisco with my fiancee, watching this wonderful fireworks display. She's having a beer, we're sitting on the grass, and I am reading Staughton Lynd's book by the light of the fireworks. I couldn't put it down! With that boast of the celebration of American freedom and American justice system, that we hold out as an ideal for the world, I was suddenly shaken by the fact that there was truly some injustice done to these men. It was that moment under the firework that it kind of clicked in my head that I should call Staughton the very next day.
STURM: There were three big prison rebellions between 1970 and 1995, where prisoners killed one another: Attica in 1971, Santa Fe in 1980, and then finally Lucasville. What separates Lucasville?
ANDERSON: For one thing, I don't think anyone has ever written a play that's toured nationally, the way this one will, about either Attica or Santa Fe. But what separates Lucasville from the other two rebellions is that these five men were in prison for very good reasons to begin with. This is not like an innocence project, where someone is innocent from the very beginning, or mentally ill, and the police decide to frame them. These folks were already in jail, and four of them for good reason. That's why the Innocence Project, or similar projects around America, won't touch these men. Even though they are innocent of the crimes that bumped them from being just "bad," up to death row, no one is helping them.
STURM: Can you describe people's reactions?
ANDERSON: I talk to people at Kinko's, or at lunch. I say, "Hey, have you guys heard of the Lucasville thing?" "Yes, we have." "Do you remember what caused the riot?" "No, we don't." "Do you remember what happened to the guys at trial?" "Well, they probably deserved it, even though they didn't do this or that, because they were already in prison. So we're not going to worry about them getting executed." They're willing to lock them up and throw them away. It's a very harsh judgment that we're getting from the general public.
STURM: What about the charge that the state attained death sentences for four men convicted of the murder of correctional officer Vallandingham almost entirely on the basis of inmate informant testimonies?
ANDERSON: Yes, there was a snitch academy set up. And we intend to expose that scandal here in the state by talking about it in the play, by mocking it, by giving excerpts of how these men were pressured to give testimony against these so-called leaders of the rebellion. And in actuality, of course, these five men were just in the circumstances of doing the best they could to stop the killing and to get their negotiated ends out there. But the snitches were coached. They were taken away for a period of months, so each would corroborate each other.
STURM: What themes of the Lucasville riot do you cover in the play?
ANDERSON: The themes that go through the entire production are uncorroborated snitch testimony, death-qualified jury, which is when prosecutors stack the deck and make sure that there are not only people that are open to voting for the death penalty, but are rabidly for it. So we illustrate that. And of course, we're looking for a moratorium at least for these five men and a reconsideration of what happened to the other men who are serving long sentences in the "supermax." Those are the three themes that resonate outside of Ohio.
STURM: Immediately after the rebellion, a new category of prisoners was created: "high maximum security." And there's some evidence that the $85 million prison was built for the Lucasville Five, correct?
ANDERSON: They were the first occupants of it. That's how they got the funding. We believe that Warden Arthur Tate always wanted to build some kind of supermax security unit. But they told him there was no justification for it. There had been no escalation of violence. Well, bingo! What happens? On April 11, 407 prisoners are left guarded by 15 guards. I mean, gee! It's like an invitation to do something wrong.
STURM: Did you actually meet with the real life Lucasville Five?
ANDERSON: I met with Jason Robb. He's a captain in the Aryan brotherhood. And I met with Siddique Abdullah Hasan, also known as Carlos Sanders. He was an Imam and leader of the Muslims during the prison rebellion. I'm meeting with Keith LaMar. And then I met with George Skatzes. He was transferred out of the supermax and is in Mansfield. He developed a great depression from being in the supermax cell. It's only the size of a compact car. During our presentation, we form living walls with 16 actors that represent the height, width and depth of an actual supermax cell. Then we put one of the men in it, George Skatzes, to talk about what living in a cell this size is like. The audience has to see it. Drawing a diagram on the floor is not good enough. We do a portion of the play inside the supermax film.
STURM: What do the "Lucasville Five" think about the play? Do they like it?
ANDERSON: Oh, yes. This was the one thing that I was worried about, that it would give them some hope. And it would put them back in to the headlines again, and might make a difference, if the issue is taken up by every state. Can you imagine how the state of Ohio may react if this thing is touring the country? And for once they not only get the pressure coming from inside the state, but have 49 other states starting to call them up and say, "What the hell is going on there in Ohio?" We just want to bring it to the public's attention.
STURM: Maryland, New Jersey, Connecticut, Illinois, New Mexico and North Carolina are all likely to ban executions. And your own state of California has ordered an investigation of the death-penalty system. What's your take on the situation in Ohio?
ANDERSON: Yesterday, on my way out of a store, I tested the waters. It was the day after the execution of Kenneth Biros was halted. I said to this fellow, "What do you think about this whole death-penalty thing?" And then he said, "I hope that bastard suffers. God wants him to suffer for what he did to this girl's family. This is God's work!" And I just looked at him with my mouth open. I didn't expect such a vehement opinion. I asked, "God does? Do you know the mind of God?" The guy was just taken aback, and said: "Maybe I went too far, but this is a bad guy. I don't want to hear all this bleeding-heart stuff. The death penalty is a good thing; it kills and animals and scum like that." And he got back in his car. People have deep opinions about this, and about abortion and about gay rights. There are certain hot-button issues that Americans citizens are just crazy about!
STURM: Do you think your play can make a difference in terms of changing people's minds about the death penalty?
ANDERSON: Here's the way I feel about theater. I've done musicals and comedy for too many years in my life when I don't think we've done anything but help people get to sleep better. I think theater should engage and enrage. And if it causes controversy, so be it. I think this is what's going to happen with this play.
STURM: "Lucasville" and "Clarence Darrow: The Search for Justice" are presented as a double feature. Four hours of deadly serious subject matter - couldn't this be too much for an audience to bear?
ANDERSON: You should make no mistake. I love to laugh. The humor in Lucasville comes from the tenseness of the situation. There are natural things that occur. For instance, in the discussion between the state and the inmate negotiators. After 15 or 20 hours of negotiation, people are tired. They let their sense of humor come into it. They let their compassion slip. And they laugh with each other. It's almost like breaking bread. If you can laugh together, you found some common ground. Humor is peppered throughout the play.
But I also have included in "Lucasville" a device that's called the stage manager. In Lucasville he weaves himself in and out the entire production, keeping the action moving on. He comments in a very funny way, and he even mocks various things that he doesn't agree with. "Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the negotiator for the Department of Rehabilitation and Correction, and backed up by 2,000 armed troops outside the wall, we have David Burchett." We have the actors applauding. "And on in the other corner we have George Skatzes, currently a guest of the state, and backed up by the wall."
I'm no dummy. I know how to get laughs. "Lucasville" offers a mixture of laugh and tears, and of course sadness. It should touch you on many levels.
STURM: You have been portraying Clarence Darrow, the famous lawyer who saved 102 men from execution, for three years now. If Darrow were alive, would he defend the Lucasville Five?
ANDERSON: Absolutely. Darrow never had a client executed. That's unheard of in the world of legal history. He was a starch opponent of the death penalty. He would do it, whether he made money or not. He was a terrible businessman. He worked pro bono for most of the cases during his life. Even when he was promised $1 million in the Leopold and Loeb case, he wound up with $10,000.
STURM: What would he have to say about the judicial system that prosecuted the Lucasville prisoners?
ANDERSON: Darrow would say that it was unfair. It needs a revision. It needs to be examined. I don't think he would agree with Gov. Strickland saying that the justice system in Ohio is "fair and impartial," for a moment.
STURM: What are your plans to take "Lucasville" on a national tour?
ANDERSON: I want people tripping over productions of "Lucasville" just like they would 7 Eleven, Walgreens, Rite Aid, Starbucks. Every time a community turns around, I want them saying, "What is this play? It's everywhere!" This is not just a regional play. I have three cities in Florida that want to do Lucasville, and I have some groups in Idaho that want this play. Oklahoma and California are interested, too. We're going to assault this nation with the way that these men have been framed. We're going to really call everyone's sense of justice into play. Now do we tell the audience what to do at the end of this play? Absolutely not. Why should we? Theater is meant to inspire, intrigue and engage, and get people to come to these things on their own. That's the best kind of truth. The truth that comes from within. That's what urges you.
For reservations, call the ACLU at: (216) 472-2209
By Daniel Sturm
Athens NEWS Contributor
Monday, April 16th, 2007
Post a comment || Email this article
What?" responded one Ohio University student in disbelief after finding out that Ohio still enforces the death penalty. She was shaken to hear that, since 2004, Ohio has been the second-highest execution state in the country, following Texas. Most of the 195 death-row inmates are now housed at the supermax prison in Youngstown. A day before the execution, prisoners are transported to the "death house" at Southern Ohio Correctional Facility in Lucasville.
Ohio places most of its death-row inmates in a fancy high-tech prison. The Ohio State Penitentiary, in Youngstown, was constructed in response to the 1993 Lucasville prison rebellion, for a cost of $85 million.
Aiming to lift the veil between the condemned and the outside world, an Ohio civil rights lawyer and a California theater director have joined forces, to bring two gripping plays about the death penalty to Ohio. "Lucasville: The Untold Story of a Prison Uprising" comes to Athens on Sunday, April 22 (7:30 p.m., Mitchell Auditorium, Seigfred Hall). The exclusive debut will tour with the nationally acclaimed one-man piece, "Clarence Darrow: The Search for Justice" (2 p.m., same location).
The American Civil Liberties Union of Ohio and the OU Department of Sociology and Anthropology are co-sponsoring the double feature.
The "Lucasville" play is based on Staughton Lynd's definitive history of the prison rebellion. In April 1993, prisoners took over a cellblock in the Southern Ohio Correctional Facility. During the riot, nine prisoners and one correctional officer were murdered. About 2,000 law-enforcement officers surrounded the prison in a stand-off that was covered by national media outlets.
In retrospect, The Columbia Journalism Review wrote that, "Glaring mistakes were reported as fact and never corrected. Reporters vied for atrocity stories. They ran scary tales - totally false, it was later found - that spread panic and paranoia throughout the region." Based on Lynd's book documenting the true events of the rebellion, the Lucasville play aims to set the record straight.
The play acts out the trial for the murder of correctional officer Vallandingham, focusing on the predicament of the five prisoners who were accused of being responsible for this crime. George Skatzes, Siddique Abdullah Hasan, Jason Robb, James Were and Keith Lamar are all currently on death row and pursuing appeals. The conviction of these five was based on the snitch testimonies of other prisoners involved in the riot, and made without any physical or DNA evidence. Were the right men convicted? The play challenges the audience to decide.
Called a "Saint of the American Left" by Democracy Now's Amy Goodman, the civil rights attorney and historian Staughton Lynd has made it his fight to regulate Ohio's prisons and abolish the death penalty. He and his wife, Alice, live in a small bungalow in Niles, near Youngstown. In the 1960s, Lynd was the director of the Mississippi Freedom Schools and taught history alongside Howard Zinn at Spellman College. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, when the steel mills closed, Lynd represented the workers, and then turned to the prison-industrial complex that had risen in the steel industry's wake.
Recognizing the importance of Lynd's work, Gary L. Anderson, who manages American Legends Theatre in Redding, Calif., decided to join forces with the civil-rights attorney. He had artistically dealt with the controversial issue of the death penalty before the Lucasville play, in the nationally touring one-man show, "Clarence Darrow: The Search for Justice." The native Ohio lawyer, Clarence Darrow (1857-1938), is most famous for his work in the Scopes "Monkey" Trial. Fighting against social injustice and racism, over the course of his career Darrow managed to save 102 men from execution. Despite the serious nature of the subject matter of these two plays, Anderson emphasized that both offer plenty of opportunity for a good laugh.
STURM: What inspired you to direct "Lucasville: The Untold Story of a Prison Uprising"?
ANDERSON: On the 4th of July, I was in San Francisco with my fiancee, watching this wonderful fireworks display. She's having a beer, we're sitting on the grass, and I am reading Staughton Lynd's book by the light of the fireworks. I couldn't put it down! With that boast of the celebration of American freedom and American justice system, that we hold out as an ideal for the world, I was suddenly shaken by the fact that there was truly some injustice done to these men. It was that moment under the firework that it kind of clicked in my head that I should call Staughton the very next day.
STURM: There were three big prison rebellions between 1970 and 1995, where prisoners killed one another: Attica in 1971, Santa Fe in 1980, and then finally Lucasville. What separates Lucasville?
ANDERSON: For one thing, I don't think anyone has ever written a play that's toured nationally, the way this one will, about either Attica or Santa Fe. But what separates Lucasville from the other two rebellions is that these five men were in prison for very good reasons to begin with. This is not like an innocence project, where someone is innocent from the very beginning, or mentally ill, and the police decide to frame them. These folks were already in jail, and four of them for good reason. That's why the Innocence Project, or similar projects around America, won't touch these men. Even though they are innocent of the crimes that bumped them from being just "bad," up to death row, no one is helping them.
STURM: Can you describe people's reactions?
ANDERSON: I talk to people at Kinko's, or at lunch. I say, "Hey, have you guys heard of the Lucasville thing?" "Yes, we have." "Do you remember what caused the riot?" "No, we don't." "Do you remember what happened to the guys at trial?" "Well, they probably deserved it, even though they didn't do this or that, because they were already in prison. So we're not going to worry about them getting executed." They're willing to lock them up and throw them away. It's a very harsh judgment that we're getting from the general public.
STURM: What about the charge that the state attained death sentences for four men convicted of the murder of correctional officer Vallandingham almost entirely on the basis of inmate informant testimonies?
ANDERSON: Yes, there was a snitch academy set up. And we intend to expose that scandal here in the state by talking about it in the play, by mocking it, by giving excerpts of how these men were pressured to give testimony against these so-called leaders of the rebellion. And in actuality, of course, these five men were just in the circumstances of doing the best they could to stop the killing and to get their negotiated ends out there. But the snitches were coached. They were taken away for a period of months, so each would corroborate each other.
STURM: What themes of the Lucasville riot do you cover in the play?
ANDERSON: The themes that go through the entire production are uncorroborated snitch testimony, death-qualified jury, which is when prosecutors stack the deck and make sure that there are not only people that are open to voting for the death penalty, but are rabidly for it. So we illustrate that. And of course, we're looking for a moratorium at least for these five men and a reconsideration of what happened to the other men who are serving long sentences in the "supermax." Those are the three themes that resonate outside of Ohio.
STURM: Immediately after the rebellion, a new category of prisoners was created: "high maximum security." And there's some evidence that the $85 million prison was built for the Lucasville Five, correct?
ANDERSON: They were the first occupants of it. That's how they got the funding. We believe that Warden Arthur Tate always wanted to build some kind of supermax security unit. But they told him there was no justification for it. There had been no escalation of violence. Well, bingo! What happens? On April 11, 407 prisoners are left guarded by 15 guards. I mean, gee! It's like an invitation to do something wrong.
STURM: Did you actually meet with the real life Lucasville Five?
ANDERSON: I met with Jason Robb. He's a captain in the Aryan brotherhood. And I met with Siddique Abdullah Hasan, also known as Carlos Sanders. He was an Imam and leader of the Muslims during the prison rebellion. I'm meeting with Keith LaMar. And then I met with George Skatzes. He was transferred out of the supermax and is in Mansfield. He developed a great depression from being in the supermax cell. It's only the size of a compact car. During our presentation, we form living walls with 16 actors that represent the height, width and depth of an actual supermax cell. Then we put one of the men in it, George Skatzes, to talk about what living in a cell this size is like. The audience has to see it. Drawing a diagram on the floor is not good enough. We do a portion of the play inside the supermax film.
STURM: What do the "Lucasville Five" think about the play? Do they like it?
ANDERSON: Oh, yes. This was the one thing that I was worried about, that it would give them some hope. And it would put them back in to the headlines again, and might make a difference, if the issue is taken up by every state. Can you imagine how the state of Ohio may react if this thing is touring the country? And for once they not only get the pressure coming from inside the state, but have 49 other states starting to call them up and say, "What the hell is going on there in Ohio?" We just want to bring it to the public's attention.
STURM: Maryland, New Jersey, Connecticut, Illinois, New Mexico and North Carolina are all likely to ban executions. And your own state of California has ordered an investigation of the death-penalty system. What's your take on the situation in Ohio?
ANDERSON: Yesterday, on my way out of a store, I tested the waters. It was the day after the execution of Kenneth Biros was halted. I said to this fellow, "What do you think about this whole death-penalty thing?" And then he said, "I hope that bastard suffers. God wants him to suffer for what he did to this girl's family. This is God's work!" And I just looked at him with my mouth open. I didn't expect such a vehement opinion. I asked, "God does? Do you know the mind of God?" The guy was just taken aback, and said: "Maybe I went too far, but this is a bad guy. I don't want to hear all this bleeding-heart stuff. The death penalty is a good thing; it kills and animals and scum like that." And he got back in his car. People have deep opinions about this, and about abortion and about gay rights. There are certain hot-button issues that Americans citizens are just crazy about!
STURM: Do you think your play can make a difference in terms of changing people's minds about the death penalty?
ANDERSON: Here's the way I feel about theater. I've done musicals and comedy for too many years in my life when I don't think we've done anything but help people get to sleep better. I think theater should engage and enrage. And if it causes controversy, so be it. I think this is what's going to happen with this play.
STURM: "Lucasville" and "Clarence Darrow: The Search for Justice" are presented as a double feature. Four hours of deadly serious subject matter - couldn't this be too much for an audience to bear?
ANDERSON: You should make no mistake. I love to laugh. The humor in Lucasville comes from the tenseness of the situation. There are natural things that occur. For instance, in the discussion between the state and the inmate negotiators. After 15 or 20 hours of negotiation, people are tired. They let their sense of humor come into it. They let their compassion slip. And they laugh with each other. It's almost like breaking bread. If you can laugh together, you found some common ground. Humor is peppered throughout the play.
But I also have included in "Lucasville" a device that's called the stage manager. In Lucasville he weaves himself in and out the entire production, keeping the action moving on. He comments in a very funny way, and he even mocks various things that he doesn't agree with. "Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the negotiator for the Department of Rehabilitation and Correction, and backed up by 2,000 armed troops outside the wall, we have David Burchett." We have the actors applauding. "And on in the other corner we have George Skatzes, currently a guest of the state, and backed up by the wall."
I'm no dummy. I know how to get laughs. "Lucasville" offers a mixture of laugh and tears, and of course sadness. It should touch you on many levels.
STURM: You have been portraying Clarence Darrow, the famous lawyer who saved 102 men from execution, for three years now. If Darrow were alive, would he defend the Lucasville Five?
ANDERSON: Absolutely. Darrow never had a client executed. That's unheard of in the world of legal history. He was a starch opponent of the death penalty. He would do it, whether he made money or not. He was a terrible businessman. He worked pro bono for most of the cases during his life. Even when he was promised $1 million in the Leopold and Loeb case, he wound up with $10,000.
STURM: What would he have to say about the judicial system that prosecuted the Lucasville prisoners?
ANDERSON: Darrow would say that it was unfair. It needs a revision. It needs to be examined. I don't think he would agree with Gov. Strickland saying that the justice system in Ohio is "fair and impartial," for a moment.
STURM: What are your plans to take "Lucasville" on a national tour?
ANDERSON: I want people tripping over productions of "Lucasville" just like they would 7 Eleven, Walgreens, Rite Aid, Starbucks. Every time a community turns around, I want them saying, "What is this play? It's everywhere!" This is not just a regional play. I have three cities in Florida that want to do Lucasville, and I have some groups in Idaho that want this play. Oklahoma and California are interested, too. We're going to assault this nation with the way that these men have been framed. We're going to really call everyone's sense of justice into play. Now do we tell the audience what to do at the end of this play? Absolutely not. Why should we? Theater is meant to inspire, intrigue and engage, and get people to come to these things on their own. That's the best kind of truth. The truth that comes from within. That's what urges you.
For reservations, call the ACLU at: (216) 472-2209