Rick Halperin is Director of the Southern Methodist University Human Rights Education Program http://www.smu.edu/humanrights/ and teaches courses at SMU including: America's Dilemma: The Struggle for Human Rights; America and the Age of Genocide; and America Enraged: From Brown to Watergate, 1954-1974.
He is frequently interviewed on television and radio as well as by print media, and he speaks nationally and internationally on a wide range of human rights issues including genocide and the death penalty
Halperin has served on the Board of Directors of Amnesty International USA from 1989-1995, and again from 2004-2010; he served as Chair of the Board from 1992-1993 and again from 2005-2007. He is also a member of the National Death Penalty Advisory Committee, the National Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty and the Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty (serving as President from 2000-2006 and from 2007 to present).
Halperin has been involved in many human rights monitoring projects, including an Amnesty International delegation which investigated the conditions of the Terrell Unit (Texas death row facility) in Livingston, Texas. In 1998, he was eyewitness to a lethal injection execution in the death chamber in Huntsville, Texas. Halperin also participated in a U.N. Human Rights delegation and inspected prison conditions in Dublin, Ireland, and Belfast, Northern Ireland for a report by the Irish Prison Commission, and he participated in a human rights monitoring delegation in El Salvador in 1987.
In addition to his work against the death penalty, Halperin is also active in other areas of human rights. He works with a variety of organizations which seek improvements in human rights on behalf of women, children, gays and lesbians, indigenous persons, survivors of torture, imprisoned political prisoners of conscience and human rights defenders, journalists, and healthcare professionals who are under non-stop assault by governments around the world.
Halperin leads groups of interested persons, including students, faculty, and community members, on human rights educational journeys three times each year to places such as Argentina, Cambodia, Rwanda, South Africa, El Salvador, Bosnia, and numerous Holocaust sites across Europe. Every December he takes a group to death camps and other Holocaust sites in Poland for two weeks. These trips are designed to pay tribute, in part, to those men, women and children who were destroyed in the camps, as well as to honor those who survived the experience. (http://smu.edu/newsinfo/stories/rick-halperin-trip-dec2006.asp) It was, and remains, necessary to remember that the human spirit is capable of enduring and vanquishing the most unimaginable horrors that humanity can produce.
(above bio of Rick Halperin was taken from his website, found at https://www.smu.edu/dedman/academics/undergraduate-minors-and-programs/interdisciplinary-studies/ehrp/about/leadership/staff/halperin )
On May 7, 1998, Dr. Rick Halperin witnessed the execution of Frank McFarland by the state of Texas. He had become a friend to Mr. McFarland, who maintained his innocence throughout his time on death row. The words that follow below are the reflections written by Dr. Halperin shortly after he witnessed the execution of his friend, Frank McFarland. On June 16, 2024, I met with Dr. Halperin in his office at Southern Methodist University, located in Dallas, Texas, to learn more about the trauma he endured from his experience as a witness to McFarland's execution.
Written by Rick Halperin:
Friends--
On Wednesday, April 29, I witnessed the execution of Frank McFarland,
in Huntsville. The following is an attempt to convey to you what I saw
and experienced:
BACKGROUND:
Frank McFarland was condemned for the Feb. 1, 1988, death of Terri Lynn
Hokanson; before she died, she told police she had been raped and stabbed
by 2 men. When he was sentenced to death, Frank was 24.
Frank first wrote to me 2 years ago, and we had a steady correspondence.
He steadfastly maintained his innocence.
His family lives in the Dallas metroplex area, and in 1997, he asked me
to contact his sister, Dawn, to introduce her to people in the abolition
effort in the Dallas area.
In February and March of this year, when it looked as though Frank's
April 29 execution date would indeed be a serious one, he requested a
meeting with me, and had me added to his visitor's list.
On Saturday, Dawn and I made the (3 hour) trip from Dallas to Huntsville,
and had a 4 hour meeting with Frank, from 5:30-9:30 pm.
Frank and I discussed many things, mostly centering on his impending
execution. He was, at that time, awaiting news on whether or not he
would be granted an evidentiary hearing which he and his attorney felt
would cast serious doubts upon his conviction.
Frank was in very high spirits, and was not overly optimistic about
getting his hearing. He was, instead, focused upon getting his affairs
in order and planning for his execution and the things he wanted done
afterwards.
He said numerous times during our conversation that he was ready for
death, and that it would be a release from the pyschological and physical
torture which he had endured for 10 years on death row. He said he was
tired, for example, of returning to his cell after family members had
visited him, only to find that guards had destroyed his belongings and
damaged his property. He said it was common to be handcuffed and to then
have as many as 5 or 6 guards beat, kick and punch him (and others),
stating that "we are the condemned...no one cares about us...we have no
one to complain to...they look at us like we are animals, and they treat
us worse. If they kill me Wednesday night, it will only mean that I am
going home, going to the land of my ancestors. I will be free from here."
It was very sobering to hear these comments.
Frank then told me that he was not asking, and would not ask, for
clemency on his own behalf. He said he would make no apology for a crime
he did not commit, and he talked at length about his case. He explained
that he was well aware of my involvement in the anit-death penalty
movement as a Human Rights educator and activist, and that was precisely
the reason he wanted to speak with me.
We had, in fact, briefly chatted in late 1997, when I was a member of the
Amnesty International delegation which toured the death row facility in
Huntsville. We met (very briefly) with several inmates in a variety of
locations, and had longer talks with 3 men who were awaiting execution
dates which were scheduled for after our visit.
Frank asked me if I would be willing to witness his execution, so that I
could talk first-hand about it in my discussions, lectures, travels, etc.
He wanted me to use his death in a constructive and educational way.
I was initially startled by his request, but I consented to indeed
witness his death if, in fact, his final appeals were denied.
He said that his witnesses list would include his mother, his spiritual
advisor, and myself.
**note: a brief mention about his family--
Frank's father was a career military man who, once retired, worked in
law enforcement in the Fort Worth area. He had been hounded mercilessly
after Frank was sentenced to death, and was eventually forced to leave
his job.
Frank has 2 sisters, Theresa and Dawn. Dawn is married and currently 5 1/2
months pregnant with her first child. Frank would not let her witness
his death because of her pregnancy. In the 10 years that Frank was on
death row, Dawn's husband never once made the visit to Huntsville with
her to see Frank, his brother-in law.
Frank said that he was luckier than most death row inmates in Huntsville,
in that he had the love and support of/from his family. His mother and
Dawn were the 2 who came to visit him on a regular basis.
At 9:30 pm, the guards came and said our time was finished--I told Frank
that I hoped he got a stay, but that if he did not, I would see him
Wednesday evening. I left a bit ahead of Dawn, who stayed behind for a
few moments to have her goodbyes with Frank in private.
She told me on the drive back to Dallas how happy Frank was with the
meeting, and that she too was resigned to his fate, not expecting any
relief from the courts. She added that she would be returning to Huntsville on the next night,
Sunday, to remain there until she heard that either Frank had received a
stay or until after his impending execution. She was coordinating the
family plans, as she had 3 aunts flying in to Houston from Maryland,
Delaware and Georgia.
On Tuesday afternoon, April 28, Dawn telephoned me at work, from
Huntsville, to inform me that the courts had rejected Frank's request for
an evidentiary hearing, and that it now appeared certain that his
exectuion would proceed the following day. I finalized my travel plans
to Huntsville, as Dawn told me that the witnesses to the execution had to
be in Huntsville for a meeting with the prison chaplain at 3pm.
THE FINAL DAY, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29, 1998----
Wed., April 29, was a physically beautiful day in Dallas. It was quite
sunny, a very warm 85 degrees, and the type of day which allows one to
bring back pleasant memories of spring. However, I found myself during
my drive to Huntsville fixated on the reasons for my journey, namely,
that in a few hours' time, I would see a human being put to death.
I arrived in Huntsville at 3 pm, and went to the designated meeting room
in a motel in the center of town, only a few blocks from the prison where
the execution would be carried out. I met Frank's mother, Diana, his
spiritual advisor, Camille (from Houston), and 2 chaplains, 1 male and
1 female. Our meeting lasted about 1 hour, in which the male chaplain discussed the
scenario of what was going to occur prior to, during and after Frank's
execution. He asked Diana several times if she was emotionally ready to see her son
die, and her answer was always the same..."yes, I'm ready." He reminded
each of us that we could still change our minds and decide not to
participate as a witness if we chose, but we each said that this was not
an option; we would indeed witness this execution.
Frank's mother told me several times that she was very bitter. She was
very angry that the judicial process had led to this conclusion for her
son and her family. She said she knew her son was innocent, and that
their lack of financial resources had helped lead to his demise through
ineffective court-appointed counsel at his original trial.
She said her husband had initially, but reluctantly, agreed to be a
witness to this execution, but after the family had their final (4-hour)
visit with Frank Wednesday morning, her husband had broken down and
decided to return home. He was not going to witness the death of his son.
She added that Dawn's husband, Scott, who made his first and only visit
to Huntsville to see Frank that (Wed.) morning, had also left, to follow
Frank's father back to Fort Worth to make sure he got home safely.
The only 2 male members of the McFarland extended family who had been
present were thus gone.
Diana also said she was very bitter at her (Baptist) church. She said
that as soon as Frank received his death sentence, no one in the
congregation, nor the minister, ever spoke to the family, nor ever made
any gestures to comfort the McFarland family in their times of grief and
hurt and suffering. She said that "for 10 years, we have been treated
like lepers. What kind of Christians are these people?"
At approximately 4:15 pm, we drove from the motel to the prison,
The Walls Unit, where we were escorted into a large waiting room.
Already there were Diana's 3 sisters (Frank's aunts), and both Theresa
and Dawn. There were also 2 members of the church in Houston to which
Frank and his spiritual advisor belonged. This was the first time I had
met any of these folks except, of course, for Dawn.
The family members were speaking about the morning's final visit with
Frank, and were telling stories about him and the family as they
remembered aspects of his life as it intersected their own. Frank had
requested, and had been granted, the chance to listen to Scottish bagpipe
music on a tape in his holding cell prior to his journed to the death
chamber, and his family was trying to imagine what he was listening to as
they waited in the room.
About 5pm, 3 male prison staff members, and 1 female prison guard, came
and escorted the 3 witnesses to separate rooms to be searched. I was
frisked by 1 guard while another went through my wallet. I had already
given them my photo identifications, but they never told me what they
were looking for.
At 5:15, we were led back into the large room, but were told we could
have no contact, either physical or verbal, with any of the other family
members. We went to one far end of the room, and a prison staff member
came over to us and told us he would be escorting us to another part of
the building prior to execution. We then waited until almost 5:50 pm,
sitting is silence by ourselves, while the other family members huddled
at the other end of the room, chatting about Frank and their remembrances.
At almost 5:50, 3 guards came in the room and immediately the family
members fell silent. One guard then said: "Will the 3 witnesses please
come with us?" It was a very difficult parting from the other family
members; Frank's mom hugged Theresa and Dawn, and we then left the room,
and were escorted into a different wing of the building, having to actually
walk across the street to another waiting room.
We entered a very large room at 5:58pm, and were asked to sit on a couch.
There were6 prison staff members, 2 guards, and a reporter from the
Associated Press in the room. No one looked at or spoke to any of us. We sat on the couch for 17
minutes, until 6:15 pm, and not once did anyone acknowledge our presence
or existence. No one made eye contact with us, and certainly no one
spoke a word to us. Frank's mom was very quiet, very pensive. Camille,
Frank's spiritual advisor, told me that this was the 2nd time she was
witnessing an execution, and asked me if I had done this before.
I had just finished saying "No" when a man came into the room at the
opposite end to where we were located, looked at us, and said simply,
"it's time. Please follow me." We walked outside and around a corner. It was still very sunny and very
warm. We walked past a tall fence with a triple row of razored barbed
wire on the top, and 2 guards stood outside the room we were about to
enter.
We were led into the viewing room. My first impression was that it was
quite small for everyone: there were the 3 witnesses, 5 newspaper
reporters (they were already in the room), the female chaplain, and 4
prison staff members.
The witnesses walked up to the window, looking into the death chamber.
I was on the left side of the viewing window, with Frank's mother next to
me, and Camille next to her on Diana's right.
Frank was strapped the gurney, with his head turned to his right, looking
at us as we entered the viewing room. There were no victims' family
members present (they would have been in their own separate viewing room,
and they would not have come into contact with us at all).
Frank gave us a brief smile to acknowledge our presence. He was dressed
in a navy prison 1-piece jumpsuit, wearing white socks and his Reebok
running shoes. He had an individual ankle restraint around each ankle.
He also had a large, leather strap around his shins, another over his
thighs, another over his waist and still another over his chest. He was
very tightly secured to the gurney. He had ace bandages across both his
hands, so we could not see his hands or fingers at all.
The chaplain had told us in our afternoon meeting we would in fact see
this, but had no explanaion as to why prison officials do this.
Still, it was a strange sight.
The death chamber itself is very small. If there had not been glass in
the window frame, it appeared that one could have leaned through the
opening and touched his right arm on the gurney.
He had a needle inserted into each forearm, and the connected tubing for
the solution was very and plainly visible. He had a towel folded in
thirds under his head which acted as his pillow.
The male chaplain stood at the foot of the gurney, and stared only at the
floor. He never looked at Frank, nor did he ever look at anyone in the
viewing room.
The prison warden stood at the head of the gurney, behind Frank's head,
and he too never looked at anything except the floor.
A large microphone came out of the ceiling and was only a few inches from
Frank's mouth. It was very quiet, both in the viewing room and in the death chamber.
Frank closed his eyes, and turned his head away from the viewing room so
that he could speak directly into the microphone.
The warden then said to Frank, "proceed with your final comments, if you
have any." The warden kept his eyes focused on the floor, and it was
amazing, at least to myself, that the warden still did not look at the
condemned individual, who was no more than a few inches from him.
In his final statement, Frank, with his eyes still closed, repeated his
claim of innocence, stating that "I owe no apology for a crime I did not
commit. Those who lied and fabricated evidence against me will have to
answer for what they have done. I call upon the spirits of my ancestors,
the land, the sea, the skies, to clear a path for me, and I swear to them
and now, I am coming home." He finished he statement by saying "Loch sloy," a Scottish battle cry for
the McFarland clan in Scotland.
Immediately after he finished his statement, his mother said in a loud
voice, "I love you," and his spiritual advisor then said, also in a loud
voice, "Loch sloy."
The medical technicians who were to start the lethal injection had been
instructed to do so after Frank finished with his phrase, "Loch sloy."
Both rooms fell totally silent. I could see Frank's chest move up and down
a few times; his eyes had remained closed since he turned his head away
from the viewing room moments before.
Within moments, he appeared to be in a deep sleep, and then, suddenly, he
let out a long exhalation, making a coughing/gurgling noise. His chest
stopped moving, and he lay perfectly still on the gurney, strapped down
tightly with his eyes closed and no expression on his face.
The warden and the chaplain continued to stare down at the floor, never
acknowledging Frank's presence. This scene remained frozen in time, as about 4 minutes passed. Still, no
one in either room said a word.
Finally, Frank's mother, standing immediately next to me, said, still
staring through the window at her now-dead son, "he looks so peaceful.
He's in a better place." His spiritual advisor then said, "his pain has
come to an end."
I stood there in total silence, shock and disbelief as to what had just
transpired. I could not believe what I had just seen.
Finally, after 4 minutes, a medical technician entered the death chamber,
and stood next to Frank's lifeless right arm. He took out a little
pocket penlight and opened both of Frank's eyes, shining it directly into
each of them. Then he put his hand on Frank's carotid artery, feeling
for a pulse. Finally, he put his stethoscope on Frank's heart, and bent
over his body listening closely for a heartbeat. The technician then stood up straight, leaned toward the microphone, and
said "Death is at 6:27. Death is at 6:27." Then he stepped away from the body, towards the head of the gurney,
towards the warden, who himself now moved toward the microphone. This
was the first time I had seen him look up from the floor.
The warden looked into the viewing room, and repeated the doctor's words,
"death is at 6:27 pm."
The technician then departed the death chamber.
Frank's mother, his spiritual advisor and I were still looking at
his body on the gurney when a prison staff member behind us said "will
the witnesses please follow me?" The reporters then filed out of the
room, followed by Camille, Frank's mother, and myself. I turned one last
time to look at Frank on the gurney before I left the viewing room. I
could no longer see either the chaplain or the warden, and I did not know
if they had left the death chamber.
My final view was to see Frank strapped on a gurney in a middle of a
small room, tubing and needles in his arms, a peaceful expression on his
face. We then retraced our steps, through the office where we had waited
earlier, back outside across the street, and into the main building of
the Walls Unit, walking to the main office where the other family members
awaited our return. No one said a word. Frank's mother was completely
composed, with no tears.
Upon entering the waiting room with the family members and church
members, I could see everyone still sitting at the large table. The room
was very quiet. But as soon as we entered, some folks began to cry.
Dawn was off to one side of the room, by herself. It was apparent that
she had been crying prior to our arrival, and she immediately broke down
in deep sobs when we walked into the room. Frank's mother went immediately to her, but said to everyone, in a strong
voice, that "Frank did not suffer. He went in peace. Give thanks for
that."
Everyone huddled together, and some were crying, some said nothing, and
all were very hurt by what had just transpired. It was a painful,
painful scene. The 3 aunts finally began to comfort both Theresa and
Dawn. It was clear that both of Frank's sisters were terribly upset and
distraught over the news of his actual death.
Finally, a prison staff officer appeared and informed the group that
reporters wanted to know if the family had a statement. Mrs. McFarland
had stated before the execution that she would only be willing to speak
with the reporter from the Associated Press. He entered the room, and gave his condolences to Mrs. McFarland. She
read him a prepared statement, part of which said that Frank "paid a high
price for a debt he did not owe. Frank is at peace, and the family will
become stronger."
She spoke with him for about 10 minutes, then rejoined her family in
their grieving. I asked the reporter how many executions he had seen,
and he responded "over 100." I asked him if, beyond seeing them in his
professional capacity as a journalist, they bothered him as a human...he
just smiled and said nothing.
At approximately 7 pm, the McFarland family decided to retire to their
hotel rooms, inviting me to accompany them. But I felt they needed the
time to/for themselves, and I still faced a long drive back to Dallas
that night.
We all walked outside, where it was still warm and sunny, and where
prison officials said nothing to us.
We all hugged, and got into our respective vehicles to head to our own
destinations. For me, it was a somber drive back to Dallas. I saw the entire process
over and over again in my mind, and felt somewhat nauseous at what I had
witnessed.
Later that evening, when I returned to my office, the first item I
encountered was a news report in which the US Supreme Court berated the
9th Circuit Court of Appeals for delaying executions, reading a quote that
Chief Justice William Rehnquist said: "The 9th Circuit Court of Appeals
had cheated the victims of crime by delaying executions."
Justice Anthony Kennedy was quoted as saying: "At some point, the state
must be allowed to exercise its sovereign power to punish offenders.
Only with real finality can the victims of crime move forward knowing the
moral judgment will be carried out."
Having just seen the state put a human being to death 3 hours earlier, I
stared at the quotes of the Supreme Court justices, and realized again
why I and so many others are in this struggle.
--------------------------------------------
I can state unequivocally that what I witnessed was one of the 2 or 3
worst things I have ever seen. It was a process totally devoid of
anything civilized. It was not humane, it was not justice.
I knew in my mind and heart that I had been a witness to evil. I was
truly amazed at how dehumanizing the entire process is, to the condemned
and to the family/friends of the condemned. No state official ever
acknowledged Frank's presence in the death chamber, and the guards, in
my opinion, fulfilled their tasks like robots. The family members were
pretty much left to get through this as best they can, only being urged
by the prison staff "to do your best to keep your emotions in check."
The process has little to do with guilt or innocence; it has little to do
with justice or fairness.
It has everything to do with exterminating an individual whom the state
has long-ago declared as "life unworthy of life."
Frank McFarland died with dignity and courage in the face of this terror.
At the moment when the poison entered his body, it mattered not whether
he was guilty or innocent; the act cast a dark pall over humanity for
what was happening.
There is absolutely no way to be mentally prepared for what one sees and
experiences. It is incredible to be, literally, only a few feet from a
human being who is helpless and premeditatedly exterminated by the state.
It is too soft to say that this is capital punishment. It is worse.
It is an annihilation, an extermination process which leaves one numb,
sickened, helpless, yet morally enraged. The process of human
destruction is almost incalculable in its methodical nature of it being
"a job."
Abolitionists should come to grasp, whether they ever see this act for
themselves or not, with the brutal reality of the absolute terror, power
and evil of the act.
I remain amazed and outraged that politicians, judges, and others
(especially in positions of authority) would have us believe that this is
the best we are capable of; it is an extremely sad and pathetic comment
on the human spirit, and should serve as both a warning and a catalyst to
all abolitionists everywhere to rededicate ourselves with renewed fervor
to end this scourge as quickly as possible.
Rick Halperin
member, Amnesty International and
The Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty
Dallas, Texas