February 2001 Executions
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Three killers were executed in February 2001.  They had murdered at least 3 people.
Two killers received stays of execution in February 2001.  They have murdered at least 2 people.

Date of scheduled execution State Victim name Inmate name Status
February 1, 2001 Oklahoma Stanley Eugene Buck Sr, 48   D.L. Jones  executed
An inmate on death row longer than any other was executed Thursday for a 1979 murder at a Lawton bar. D.L. "Wayne" Jones Jr., 61, was pronounced dead at 9:16 p.m. from a lethal dose of drugs at the Oklahoma State Penitentiary. Jones, a Lawton carpenter, was convicted of killing 48-year-old Stanley Eugene Buck Sr. He also wounded Buck's 19-year-old son, Stanley Buck Jr., and Betty Jean Strain, 40. Jones had been on death row longer than any other because of an extended appeals process that resulted from a U.S. Supreme Court ruling in a separate case 16 years ago. He met Strain at another bar earlier that day and became angry at her for slipping out while Jones was on the phone, said Sandy Howard, chief of the criminal appeals division for the state attorney general's office. He later encountered Strain at another bar, the Wichita Lounge, where a bartender noticed a gun sticking out of his boot and asked Jones to cover it. Jones threatened to shoot her, then brandished the weapon and opened fire, saying he would kill everyone in the tavern. Strain was wounded under the right breast and managed to walk to another bar for help while Jones confronted the Bucks, who were drinking sodas, eating chicken and playing pool. He did not know them and asked Stanley Buck Jr. what they were doing before shooting the father in the head at point blank close range. Jones shot Stanley Buck Sr. again as he lay dying. He shot Stanley Buck Jr. twice in the bar and followed him outside and purportedly said "if I let you live you'll tell the cops, won't you?" before shooting the son a 3rd time. Stanley Buck Jr. managed to stumble to a nearby fruit stand and motioned to call police because he could not talk. Lawton detectives arrested Jones without incident at his home a short time later. Jones said a combination of alcohol and drugs rendered him unconscious of the acts. Witnesses said Jones did not appear drunk. Stanley Buck Jr., who was paralyzed on his left side from his wounds, said Jones' execution was long overdue. "My father was not given but an instant to contemplate his life. Jones has had 20 years to contemplate his," the son wrote the state Pardon and Parole Board, which rejected clemency last week. Strain's injuries resulted in the removal of her spleen at the time. She has since died. Prosecutors successfully argued that aggravating circumstances warranted the death penalty, partly because the act was especially heinous, atrocious and cruel. Prosecutors also said Jones intended to kill others at the bar, another aggravating circumstance. 
Date of scheduled execution State Victim name Inmate name Status
February 7, 2001 Missouri Thomas S. Allen, 16   Stanley Lingar  executed

On April 18, 1986, Thomas S. Allen, a 16-year-old high school junior, was coming home from his girlfriend's home when his Jeep ran out of gas.  Stanley Lingar and his accomplice David Smith stopped and offered to take Thomas into town for gas.  Instead, they took him to Lingo Lake and forced Thomas to undress and to perform sex acts, then took him to Lingar's parents' home and got a gun.  They then returned to Lingo Lake where Lingar again ordered Thomas to masturbate while pointing the rifle at him. Thomas asked if he could get out of the car to urinate, and Lingar agreed.  Lingar then shot Thomas in the back. Thomas was able to get back in the car in an attempt escape. When he had difficulty getting the car started, Lingar went to the passenger side of the car and fired a shot striking Thomas in the head. Thomas fell out of the car and as he tried to get up Lingar shot him a third time. Thomas attempted to get up and Lingar began beating him in the head with a tire iron. As Thomas made a final attempt to get up, Lingar got into the car and backed it up running over the victim two times. Lingar and Smith then drove away leaving Thomas laying naked on the ground. After conferring with his brother Eddie, Lingar and Smith returned to the lake to dispose of Thomas's body. Upon arrival Lingar and Smith redressed Thomas, placed his body in the trunk of the car and drove to a bridge on the Eleven Point River. The two men threw Thomas's body into the swift moving river and then tried to clean the car of blood, discard Thomas's personal effects and burn the forearm and stock of the rifle. The next day Lingar and Smith sold the Mustang and a pickup truck. They used the proceeds to go to Bowling Green, Kentucky where they attempted to destroy the remainder of the rifle. The Ripley County Sheriff began an investigation into the disappearance of Thomas which lead him to the blue Mustang. Upon learning that authorities wanted to talk to him, Lingar returned to Ripley County where he and Smith made a statement. Following the interview the Sheriff obtained a search warrant for the car. During their search, the Sheriff found Thomas's blood in the car and the trunk as well as .22 caliber shell casings. The Missouri State Water Patrol found Thomas's body in the river. Lingar was then charged with Murder First Degree. Lingar claimed they were drunk and had consumed 30 cans of beer in addition to a quart bottle, plus a half a bottle of wine, however they were not too drunk to be able to commit this crime.  The US Supreme Court refused to review Lingar's death sentence in 1989.  

Date of scheduled execution State Victim name Inmate name Status
February  8, 2001 Texas Elizabeth Alvarado, 69  Adolpho Gil Hernandez  executed

Adolpho Hernandez was executed for the Sept. 30, 1988 robbery and murder of 69-year-old Elizabeth Alvarado who was beaten to death with a baseball bat inside her Lubbock, Texas home.  Her purse was stolen, with $350 in cash.  Elizabeth's daughter confronted Hernandez as he was fleeing and managed to wrestle the baseball bat from him and hit him with it.  He was found hiding in the bushes a short time later, with blood stains on his shirt, pants and shoes. In earlier appeals, Hernandez blamed the slaying on an alcohol-induced blackout. In the past month, however, he contended the murder was committed by a black man whose identity he did not know. This week, defense attorneys produced a bloody shirt, stored in a garage for 12 years, which they said would clear the former barber. A state judge, however, refused to stop the execution. Elizabeth's family was again devastated one year later, when Elizabeth's granddaughter, Melissa Ann Garcia, was raped and stabbed to death by Texas death row inmate Jack Wade Clark.  Clark was executed on January 9, 2001.  Hernandez had multiple previous convictions: two counts of burglary in 1977 for which he received 8 years of probation.  This was revoked because of a DWI so he was sent to prison in March 1978 and was paroled after almost two years; larceny with an 8 year sentence, another burglary in 1981 for which he received a 15 year sentence and was paroled in just over four years; then returned as a parole violator with a new conviction and 15 year concurrent sentence for "unauthorized use of a motor vehicle" from which he was paroled just eight months before murdering Elizabeth.   

Date of scheduled execution State Victim name Inmate name Status
February 20, 2001 Oklahoma Tessa Leadford, 1   James Malicoat  stayed

James Patrick Malicoat was sentenced to die for the brutal murder of Tessa Leadford, his one-year-old baby daughter, in Chickasha, Oklahoma.  The baby's mother, Mary Ann Leadford, was sentenced to Life Without Parole for allowing the beatings that led to this murder. On February 21, 1997, Tessa had already been dead for several hours when she was taken to the hospital.  She had been beaten, cut and bitten.  Seven of her ribs were broken and she had suffered the rupture of several internal organs, including her liver, her lungs and a kidney.  Bruises covered her body, she bled internally, she had a skull fracture and her brain hemorrhaged.  Malicoat worked nights and cared for Tessa during the day while Leadford worked, Attorney General Drew Edmondson said.  Malicoat was married to another woman at the time and also had a child with her.  The jury took only 15 minutes to find him guilty and only 35 minutes to reach a death sentence. This is not a true execution date as Malicoat had previously waived his appeals but has now changed his mind and wants to continue to appeal. At a competency hearing in December before a County judge, Malicoat told the Court that his death was the only way to "atone for it," but has now given notice to the Court of Criminal Appeals that he revokes his waiver of federal appeal remedies.  At the time of the competency hearing, prosecutor Brett Burns said "This was a very difficult case." He said he and District Attorney Gene Christian had both viewed the body of the child at the time of her death. "We saw the torture and injuries inflicted by James Malicoat. At the time I had a small child and I couldn't help identifying with Tessa," he said. Burns said Malicoat's actions were such that death was the only adequate punishment. "He showed no remorse. Now after four years he has found remorse. Even though we despise his actions, we do have a respect for his feelings to forego further legal appeals," he said. "He is resolved to the death penalty and is at peace with it."  UPDATE: 2/7/01 - An inmate scheduled to be executed Feb. 20 received a stay Tuesday from U.S. District Judge Vicki Miles-LaGrange. Miles-LaGrange postponed the execution of condemned killer James Malicoat to give him time to pursue federal court appeals. Malicoat earlier had wanted to waive his appeals, but he changed his mind. He was convicted of 1st-degree murder in the 1997 slaying of his 13-month-old daughter at his Chickasha home. 

Date of scheduled execution State Victim name Inmate name Status
February  21, 2001 Federal Andrew Hunt Marti  David Paul Hammer stayed
David Paul Hammer appears fated to die the way he killed his cellmate, Andrew Hunt Marti--inside a small prison room, his arms and legs strapped down, lying face up to a world that will do just as well without him. Hammer murdered Marti nearly five years ago, slowly strangling him in his lower bunk in cell 103 of the Allenwood penitentiary. With the federal government soon to begin executing prisoners again, Hammer at this moment is the first in line. He is scheduled to die in just a month, yet likely will exercise one final legal appeal to put off that date. Whenever he goes, he would be the first federal prisoner in more than a century put to death for killing a fellow inmate. Two men, both federal prisoners, both destined to die. Marti was the misfit, a wannabe, a terribly naive kid from California. He robbed a bank to get himself into a local street gang. Then gang members turned their guns on him. Hammer was the first son of parents who, according to court documents, repeatedly beat, humiliated and sexually abused their children. He left home at 14. By 19 he would--but for a few weeks--spend the rest of his life behind bars. Marti was young and tall and lumbering. Hammer is 42 and balding, round-faced and flabby; a two-time escape artist, he claims to be tormented by multiple personalities. Sometimes he is a chimpanzee named Jasper. On the night he killed Marti, he was the evil Jocko. In a letter written Oct. 15, he said of Marti: "He did not deserve to die and I certainly had no right to kill him." Federal prosecutors assigned to prison murders generally do not bother to go for the death penalty. More often than not, there simply is no outraged public demanding retribution. But David M. Barasch, the U.S. attorney who oversaw Hammer's prosecution, believed that he owed the victim and his family more than a murder conviction. Noting that Andrew Marti might have been released by now, he said, softly: "To me, his life matters."  When Robert Marti, the victim's father, testified at Hammer's trial in 1998, he broke down and cried, struggling to read his son's last letter home from prison. At the defense table, Hammer was crying too. The elder Marti owned furniture stores, one in Lodi, Calif., and one outside Salem, Ore. Andrew was the youngest of his four children. "We thought he was a normal child," the father testified. "And then about the age of 2, his mother was out in the kitchen one afternoon and all of a sudden Andy went to the floor."  Two years later he was having as many as 200 epileptic seizures a day. Family members would hold his head, sometimes for 20 minutes, so he did not hurt himself. Andy had severe learning disabilities. He took a special course to help him pass Army boot camp. Still, he washed out of basic training. He had disciplinary problems and could not get along with other recruits. He was busted for stealing candy in the barracks. And his father once testified that Andy was so clumsy with his weapon that "he could never qualify" as a soldier. So Andrew drifted. He was gullible, very easily swayed by others. He lived for a while with his brother Michael and began stealing cash from him, $25 one time, $40 another. Later he lived inside his 1984 Plymouth, filled with his world's possessions: $600 worth of clothes. There were arrests: theft in 1990, robbery in 1991, federal bank robbery in 1992, when his accomplices tried to kill him. "We got a call one evening that our son had been shot," Robert Marti recalled in the Hammer trial. "His mother and I went down to the hospital. . . . He was perfectly coherent when I talked to him. I went in the room and I was not sympathetic and I perhaps was angry that he would do such a thing. . . . And I gave him the dickens."  Hammer was born in 1958, 10 years before Marti. He grew up in Oklahoma and Texas. There were allegations of severe mental, physical and sexual abuse in his childhood.  By 14, Hammer had left home. He would report later to Oklahoma authorities that he was sexually molested by an older man and that he once felt a strange urge to smother a cousin with a pillow. He knocked around in odd jobs. According to his brother, he became addicted to heroin. By 19, Hammer was in prison. His crimes were as horrendous as his upbringing. High on PCP and threatening suicide, he went to a Baptist hospital seeking help but instead pulled a gun and took hostages, including a nurse and a pregnant receptionist. He gave up when a police SWAT team arrived. Later, during one of his two prison escapes, he abducted a man named Thomas Upton, drove him to the end of an oil field road outside of Oklahoma City and forced him to disrobe. Then he shot him three times in the head.  Upton survived and later described Hammer as "crazy, man, completely; completely insane."  Back in prison, he wrote threatening letters to judges. He fancied himself a jailhouse lawyer. Once he obtained a minister's license and collected funds for his "church." His accumulated prison sentence slowly grew to 1,200 years. Under a contract with the federal government, the state turned him over to the U.S. Bureau of Prisons. There his security is so tight that detention officers strip-search him four and five times a day. When he is moved, he is marched in handcuffs, leg irons and a belly chain.  When he was sentenced to die after pleading guilty halfway through his 1998 murder trial, Hammer told the court that, despite all of his childhood pain, he still loved his parents. "They are not responsible for who I am or how I turned out," he told the judge. "A lot of things happened along the way." Along the way he met Andrew Marti. Marti went to prison for bank robbery in 1992. He had tried to join a black Bloods gang in the Portland, Ore., area, despite the fact he was a young white man with no real street sense. To prove his mettle, he was directed to either kill a rival Crips member or rob a branch bank in Salem, Ore. He later told the court that because he "could not kill another individual," he "chose the bank robbery." Thin, 6-foot-5, a ski mask hiding his face and a fully automatic 9-millimeter Lima pistol at the ready, he burst into the bank one chilly January day. He leaped over the teller counter, scooped up the loot and made off in a maroon Dodge Omni. Later, at a rendezvous in a nearby industrial area, he and his gang confederates--fellows named "Rip" and "Smurf" and "Drak"--counted the money, just under $11,000. But as Marti was returning to the car, he was shot four times in the chest and stomach by one of the others. He told the FBI later that he "played dead" and overheard the others laughing as they sped away. In court, he pleaded guilty. "I am sorry I did this," he scrawled across the plea form because his injuries left him unable to write or clench a fist. His court-appointed attorney, Andrew Bates, described him as like a "puppy dog. . . . It was as if you were dealing with a kid with a junior high mentality. He didn't have friends. He didn't have much going for him." Marti was sentenced to 106 months. The court's pre-sentence report included a line from Marti's mother, Patricia, who said her son wanted approval from others so desperately that he would "latch onto anyone who would give him half a smile." Marti walked into prison already a marked man. He was an informant who had rolled over on the gang members. In prison, he became known as a snitch, telling guards about other prisoners' activities. In retaliation, he was assaulted several times, once with a baseball bat. He was moved about the prison system, usually because he had been attacked, sometimes severely. Marti's prison file shows that officials were aware that "Mr. Marti's life was in danger." Even after Marti was examined by a prison psychologist, the doctor noted: "He was paranoid about his safety, but this seemed rational due to the previous assaults." Partly for protection, he aligned himself with a violent Mexican prison gang. He took a nickname, "Espanta Fajaros," or "frightened birds." He sported tattoos, including one of a scarecrow. "He was afraid of what could happen to him there," recalled his lawyer, Bates. "He was emotional about it. It was like a very young kid not knowing what was happening, and he was definitely scared of the retaliation." Once, Marti wrote the warden. "I'm scared for my safety. A man can't learn anything while being stuck in SHU [Special Housing Unit]. I want to learn, I want to work, I want to be safe, warden!" Three weeks before his murder, he sent his last letter home. He wrote it in block letters, and enclosed a birthday card for his 66-year-old father. "Smile and be happy," he wrote. "I know you feel that I'm a black sheep of the family and you're right. I just didn't like being told what to do and wanted to go on my own way, Dad."  He added: "When I get out of prison, maybe we can start on the other foot." He died at 2:30 in the morning, April 13, 1996. He was 27 years old. Marti was face up on the lower bunk. His arms and legs were strapped down by a knotted sheet, tied so tight that the coroner had to cut them loose. A sock was stuffed in his mouth. A separate, braided cord had been used to strangle him. Hammer immediately confessed to the murder. He and Marti had been cellmates for just a few months in the prison's special housing unit and Hammer has over the years hinted at a number of reasons why he killed the younger prisoner. His most consistent story has been that Marti wanted to be transferred to another prison because he did not feel safe. To that end, Hammer convinced him that, if they could make it look like he was injured in a prison assault, he certainly would be moved. So Marti consented to be bound and beaten. But the ruse turned too violent. Hammer knew of Marti's reputation as a snitch and he told some confidants that he would silence his cellmate to win favor with other prisoners. Indeed, Hammer once bragged that he would "get Marti moved in with me and rock him to sleep." Hammer's defense lawyers had their own theory. They argued that he was tormented by his multiple personalities, torn between Jasper the friendly chimpanzee and the evil Jocko. In a later videotaped hypnosis session sponsored by his attorneys, Hammer blurted out: "Jocko killed him. Jocko killed him. I didn't kill him." Regardless of why he killed Marti, Hammer from the start boasted that he did not fear the ultimate penalty. He wrote out seven reasons for killing Marti, Nos. 1 to 4 dealing with Marti's reputation as a snitch and Hammer's desire to "make a statement." No. 5: "I do not fear the death penalty or anything else the government can do to me." No. 6: "Human life holds very little meaning for me as anyone can kill or be killed." No. 7: "Given the opportunity, I will kill again!" In pleading guilty, Hammer told Judge Malcolm Muir: "The bottom line is I did in fact with these hands kill Andrew Marti. . . . The bottom line is I tied him up. I tied him to the bed and killed him." At his sentencing, he said: "This case began with the death of Andrew Marti and apparently it's going to end with my own death." He rambled for a while, citing Shakespeare and T.E. Lawrence (the "Lawrence of Arabia"). "Our sins speak, but murder shrieks and that somehow seems appropriate to describe what happened to Andrew Marti."  He added, "I see this as just the end of something that started way back. And I don't see it as a . . . as a total loss. . . . He who dies pays all debts." On Sept. 20, he told the U.S. 3rd Circuit Court of Appeals in Philadelphia that he was dropping all of his legal appeals. The appellate court took him at his word. Muir set his execution for Nov. 15. A day later, Hammer wrote a postcard: "I have mixed feelings about it all, but after almost 23 years of continuous incarceration and no hope of ever leaving prison alive, I'm ready." In these final days, Hammer claims to have found religion, and was confirmed into the Roman Catholic Church. In Washington, the Bureau of Prisons has also been busy, preparing its protocol for the executions. It has been a long time. There is much to be done. Then in the middle of October, Hammer and his lawyers filed a clemency petition with President Clinton. He asked the appellate court to reinstate his appeal. And he asked Muir to set aside the Nov. 15 date so he could challenge the death sentence. The appellate court said it would not hear any more appeals from Hammer. Muir then set Hammer's execution for Feb. 21, but will postpone that date if Hammer and his lawyers, as expected, file one final legal appeal by the end of this month. Many believe that Hammer is toying with the system again, trying to make one more splash before he takes his final bow. His motives are as elusive as the man himself. Yet he still can vividly recall his victim. "Andrew was a son, a brother, an uncle, a gang member, a bank robber, an informant for the FBI," Hammer wrote on Oct. 15. "Andrew was loved and hated. . . . He was a follower, not a leader." He added one thing more: "Andrew had numerous tattoos. One which comes to mind was two masks, happy and sad faces, with words beneath that said, 'Play now, pay later.' Andrew paid in full with his life." UPDATE: David Paul Hammer had been scheduled to die by injection on Feb. 21 for strangling his cellmate, but he is again pursuing appeals and a judge vacated that date without setting a new one. 

 

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