France’s national newspaper Le Monde has published an article on the Kenneth Foster case. Foster faces execution later this month, but a highly organized campaign is under way to stop the execution. Read more on the Save Kenneth Foster Campaign’s blog or the main website.

Sentenced to die for having seen a crime
Le Monde
Nicolas Bourcier
August 4th, 2007

DR for death row. Two initials marked on Kenneth Foster’s white
pants. Two indelible letters to underline, as if it were necessary,
that the countdown has started. Since May this young death row
prisoner, 30-year old, knows the Texas authorities have set his
execution date for August 30th, a Thursday, around 6pm. A date and a
time programmed 10 years ago, almost to the day, when he was
sentenced to death by a court in San Antonio not for having killed
someone but for not having ever, according to the jury, premeditated
or anticipated a crime and having ran away in a car with the
murderer. Kenneth Foster is here, he stands in one of the visiting
cages at the Polunsky Unit, home of Texas death row, made of steel
and concrete, lost somewhere on a country road in Livingston, a small
ordinary town north of Houston. The guard locks the door and
mechanically unlocks the cuffs behind his back.

He sits down. He sets his watch down in front of the safety glass
partition as to better control time, the forty-five minutes granted
for the interview. He smiles. “Hello” he says while picking up the
phone. “How are you?” Apparently calm, Kenneth Foster does not
demonstrate any signs of weakness, no attempt to dominate his fear.
Tall guy with immediate charm, he speaks well, aptly uses the flow of
words such as the rap musician he would have liked to become before
his arrest.

He keeps the hard times to himself, as to protect himself, within the
four walls of his tiny cell, of the fatal instant and from the
intrusion by the department of corrections, which take a prisoner to
his death in Huntsville, a near-by town where Texas executes its
death row prisoners by lethal injection. Yesterday it was Lonnie
Earl Johnson’s turn, a companion, “a friend” whom he had known for
nine years. “Those moments are hard, they strike the spirit,
challenge the intellect and the emotions… One keeps looking at one’s
watch.”

He says he does not have any “hatred or anger, only rage but the
positive kind that feeds energy, the fuel”. The system? “I know it is
unfair, I know the underlying dose of racism in the United States.
But it is up to us to be intelligent, at least as much as those who
lead us.” Not once does he accuse those who sentenced him based on
the color of his skin. He will not mention the victim’s father,
Michael Lahood, a white attorney in San Antonio. Kenneth Foster does
not raise the hopeless injustice of being born on the wrong side of
the social fence. He simply sticks to the facts, recalls that he
never killed anyone and that he was incapable of predicting that
Mauriceo Brown, one of the three men he went out with that night of
August 1996, was going to kill a certain Michael Lahood Jr.

On two occasions that night, he attempted to stop this night trip and
to leave the small group he hardly knew and that had just committed
two pathetic robberies, stealing $300 from passers-by picked at
random. When the shot was fired, he said he did not understand what
was going on, he saw nothing, only the pale and panting face of
Mauriceo Brown who had come out of the car a few seconds ago to
follow a girl in a private property. Kenneth Foster got scared. In
one move, he put his foot down on the throttle. He was 19 years old
and had just borrowed his grandfather’s car, the only member of his
family who cared for him.

Then came the trial, those “neverending lines of errors”, this first
court-appointed attorney “who was obviously a beginner”, the
magistrate who refused to try him separately from the murderer, the
testimony of a confused Julius Steen, the third man who will change
his deposition on two occasions years later, to affirm that he had
not played any direct or indirect part in the death of young Lahood.

Kenneth Foster was tried under the law of parties, which allows the
sentencing of secondary participants to a crime. A law passed by half
a dozen states in the 70’s, but that only Texas uses for capital
punishment. In total, experts estimate that this law has been a
determining factor in the execution of twenty death row prisoners.

The death row prisoner nods gently, takes a breath. Five times during
his appeals he asked to be re-tried, five times his request was
denied. Those years of procedure have only brought him technically
closer to death, one court order after another. “Once started, this
machinery is very hard to stop” he explains, almost in a professional
manner.

Also sentenced to death, Mauriceo Brown was executed on July 17th,
2006. Kenneth Foster says it hit him, but hardly makes a comment: “I
was never very close to him, not even here in prison.”

Kenneth Foster still hopes the nine Judges of the CCA in Austin will
review his sentence in the next few days, or that the Board of
Pardons and Paroles and Governor Perry, who has never granted
clemency, will grant him a new trial. He says: “Yes Texas is the
state where the largest number of prisoners are executed in this
country, nineteen since the beginning of the year.” And states: “I do
no want prayers or candles. I want people to fight and stand up for
me, to show these politicians that some people think differently.”

Kenneth Foster looks at his watch and signals we have little time
left. “It’s getting close” he whispers in the phone. On his fingers,
he counts the number of scheduled executions before his: four out of
the 390 death row prisoners confined within these walls. “I have to
be vigilant and precise with the numbers. Each decision by the
authorities is important for me.”

He says he gets information from his attorneys, his loved ones who
visit him regularly, from the radio mostly the public channel NPR.
“Can you imagine, we don’t even have a television…” An additional
punishment by the system, according to him, a daily sanction which
comes on top of the “privilege” to make one five-minute phone call
every ninety days. He adds, while picking up his watch: “Each death
sentence is a regression, a defeat for society. In any case it will
never be a solution no matter what the crime, as unforgivable as it
may be.” He stands up. His 13-year old daughter is due to visit him
later this week. He puts the phone down and smiles one last time.

Kenneth E. Foster, Jr.
#999232
Polunsky Unit (Death Row)
3872 FM 350 South
Livingston, TX 77351

Texas Governor Rick Perry
P.O. Box 12428
Austin, TX 78711

Dear Governor Perry,

Unaware of what I could possibly say that could make a difference, I decided to grasp this opportunity to write to you from my heart, because I believe that God declares for us to live each day to the fullest. While I know that you will be bombarded with letters from people, spoken to by legal representatives and addressed by the media, this is written on a personal basis.

I know that you will have detailed information about my case and the Law of Parties. However, please never forget that although I did not protest when Mauriceo Brown wanted to commit robberies, later I recognized that this was wrong to go along with, and out of respect for my grandfather, I said I had to stop. After I said I wanted to go home, Mauriceo Brown got out of the car to talk to Mary Patrick, and got into an argument with Michael LaHood, which ended with Mauriceo Brown shooting him, of which I had no foreknowledge and would never have permitted, had I known it were going to happen.

I would like to talk from another perspective. What can I say about this death row journey? It has been a curse and a blessing, because as ironic as it may be most humans fear the only thing they are promised at birth and that is death. And as the irony continues, one (here) learns to live by facing death. It’s a stunning process. Yet, for each man he experiences something different. I’ve observed some of the most complex and intricate human behavior probably on this earth – enough experience to more than likely surpass the credentials of any anthropologist or psychologist. I’ve watched the dreams and nightmares, the hope and despair. I could write a book on it and speak volumes to it. But, I will only say that I thank God for allowing me to journey through this keeping my sanity and being anointed with a gift to learn, grow, and pass on positivity.

There’s so much that the world doesn’t see – so much that politics will bar, but regardless of it all, a man still has the opportunity to tap into the beauty of humanity and experience that regardless of his outside circumstances. I just wish that you all could see it. I do realize that you feel you have a certain Justice to serve. I’ve come so far in my journey that I no longer hold spite, because I’ve been granted an Understanding that is keeping me. It was a quote that I read once that said – “To maim and destroy the body of man is no deed of recognition for valor, whether in war or in mortal conflict. But, to save a body, which is the temple of the soul, is an act and deed of the God-like.” Those words changed me, because it was just as much about me as anyone else.

Governor Perry, I don’t think that I have to detail why I feel my situation is unjust – either personally or politically. I believe that all the evidence and letters will speak so loud to you. However, I think it’s important to tell you that I have tried to use this situation as a transformation process. Everyday I have tried to be an exception to the stigmas and stereotypes. I wanted to show that a man here could be more than his error or labels. And so, as I submitted myself, I found the heart to pray for you and your family, the victim and his family, my co-defendants and their family. I’ve discovered (and hopefully others will, too,) that the pain, sorrow and compensation is not taken care of through simply saying I’m sorry or through hundreds of executions, rather giving love everyday, helping someone, speaking truth to power – showing that one man with courage can be a majority. The only Joy I have is in educating, reforming and revitalizing; and if you believe it or not I do this because of you all, not myself. Because if I did anything for me I’d be a wretch, but through you all (those that love me or not,) I’ve found humanity embracing me. I’m thankful, regardless.

You’re a history maker, Governor Perry, and I am a part of your history and I think what happens to me will be a relevant part of history. I wish I could appeal not only to your morale and conscience, but to your soul. I wish we could talk about the last 10 years and everything between. I wish we could view the way each life through this process has been touched. Often the Divine is revealed through the hardest trials and tribulations.

My only plea is that I wish I could live for the sake of my little daughter who will be so deeply wounded to not have her daddy. I do not want to be set free. I want to pay for what I did. I drove a car and let a man rob other people. That is not a capital crime. I allowed Mauriceo Brown to get back in the car. Because of my own blatant shock and disbelief at what had just occurred, I helped him leave a crime scene. That is not a capital crime. I never sought nor desired that Michael LaHood, Jr. be killed.

I wrote this letter from the heart, just trying to show you how one can transform, how beauty does persist, how change can come. I prayed different Psalms and Proverbs over this letter. I’ve passionately spoken all of my request for Forgiveness, Peace, Life, Justice, Freedom, Love, Understanding to The Creator and His Creation. I stand on the Faith knowing that all of the roles we have played in this walk of life will have a greater purpose. I’m glad to have had this opportunity to speak with you.

With God’s Love,

Kenneth Foster”

“I Like Turtles!!”

The Huffington Post has published a blog entry written by Sean-Paul Kelley, who was one of the best friends of Michael LaHood at the time of his murder by Mauriceo Brown. Brown has already been executed for the crime. Sean-Paul Kelley is a travel writer and radio host in San Antonio, Texas. In September 2002 he founded The Agonist, still considered the top international affairs destination for progressives. Kelley does not believe that Kenneth Foster, Jr should also be executed for the death of LaHood, because Foster did not kill anyone.

You see, one night in August 1996 one of my best friends, Michael LaHood, was murdered by Mauriceo Brown. And Kenneth Foster, Jr. was driving for Mauriceo that night. I don’t know what the circumstances of Kenneth’s involvement were beyond the fact that he was still in the car when Mauriceo pulled the trigger that sent a bullet through my friend’s brain, ending his life immediately.

Was he being forced to drive? Or was he along for the ride? I don’t care. Kenneth deserves and is receiving punishment for his role in the tragedy that occurred that night. But whatever punishment Kenneth does deserve for his role in my friend’s cruel murder, execution should not ever have been (or be) an option. He did not pull the trigger, or encourage Mr. Brown to pull it in any way, nor was he even aware that the murder was being contemplated or had been committed until after the fact. His punishment should not be execution.

But we are in Texas and in Texas, barbaric laws prevail, like something out of Beowulf or the Old Testament or Reservoir Dogs — one of the very few movies I could not watch to the end for its unspeakable cruelty. Never mind that we are in the 21st century. Never mind that we are supposed to be modern.

I miss Michael, my dear friend, whom I nicknamed ‘Chainsaw.’ He was a big, musclebound, softhearted jabber-mouth, always talking and always cracking jokes. Mike was full of life. And although he was a body builder I never saw him angry and I never saw him so much as hurt anyone. His joy was infectious — everyone wanted to hang out with Mike and the ladies loved him, although he didn’t quite have the confidence to take advantage of it (yet). Why he chose a long-haired, poetry writing, guitar playing miscreant and reformed pothead/high school dropout like myself I will never know. But I loved him dearly. The only time I ever cheated in college or university was for Mike. He hated poetry and asked if he could use one of my poems for his Freshman Comp? How could I say no?

I still remember eating chicken fried steak with him and D-Day — the third and most successful leg of our triumviral friendship — at Maggies at 3:00am after clubbing, back when the three of us attended the local junior college, were obsessed with the opposite sex but too stupid to realize they were just as obsessed with us as we were with them. God, how I’d give anything to have him back. Thinking of him brings a tear to my eyes even now. What makes it worse is that I’d returned from living out of the country a few months before he was killed. A new career kept me busy. We kept postponing getting together. My last words to Mike — two weeks before he was murdered — were a cliché for all clichés: “We’ll do it next weekend, buddy, we’ve got all the time in the world.” I couldn’t hear the clock ticking. I wish I’d listened closer.

And for that I hated Mauriceo and his gang even more, and for a long time. But the execution of a young man who didn’t even kill Mike? That’s not justice. It’s senseless vengeance, a barbarism cloaked in the black robes of justice.