The Executioner's Song (125 page)

MOODY               I think he wants you to be very serious about it.

GILMORE            I've talked to people who know more than I do, and people who know less, and I listen, and I decided the only fucking thing I know about death, the only real feeling I have about it, it'll be familiar.

                I don't think it'll be a harsh, unkind thing. Things that're harsh and unkind, are here on earth, and they're temporary. They don't last. This all passes. That is my summation of my ideas, and I might be all wet.

MOODY               Do you know what Joe Hill's last message to the Wobblies was?

GILMORE            Joe?

MOODY               Joe Hill. He's a man who was killed in Utah a number of years ago.

GILMORE            His name was Joe Hillstrom. What did he tell the Wobblies?

MOODY               "Don't mourn, boys, organize."

GILMORE            Don't warn?

MOODY               "Don't mourn, boys, organize."

GILMORE            Well, I got something like that I kinda like: "Never fear, never breathe." That's a Muslim saying. I don't know where they got it, but you can apply it to anything, it makes pretty good sense.

                "Don't mourn, boys, organize."

MOODY               You know the old line in the war movies, "Any man who said he ain't scared is either a liar or a fool"?

GILMORE            What about it?

MOODY               Doesn't that apply at least a little to your situation?

GILMORE            I didn't say I wasn't scared, did I?

MOODY               No. But your message to the world has the connotation of don't fear.

GILMORE            Well, why fear? It's negative. You know you could damn near call it a sin if you let fear run your life.

MOODY               You're certainly determined to defeat fear.

GILMORE            I don't feel any fear right now. I don't think I will tomorrow morning. I haven't felt any yet.

MOODY               How are you able to overcome fear from coming into your soul?

GILMORE            I guess I'm lucky. It hasn't come in. You know a truly brave man is somebody who feels fear and goes out and does what he's supposed to do in spite of it. You couldn't really say i'm that fucking brave because I ain't fighting against fear and overcoming it. I don't know about tomorrow morning . . . I don't know if I'll feel any different tomorrow morning than I do right now, or than I felt on the first of November when I waived the fucking appeal.

MOODY               Well, you're remarkably composed.

GILMORE            Thank you, Bob.

MOODY               I don't know what to say, I just really . . .

GILMORE            Look, man, I'm being kind of rude. You guys are a little upset about all of this, aren't ya?

MOODY               It's hard, Gary. I'm physically ill.

At this point, Bob Moody began to cry. A little later, when he got control of himself, he and Gilmore and Stanger talked a bit more. Then, they said good-bye. They would return in the late afternoon to visit through the night. As they went out, Gilmore said, "Don't forget the vest." "The what?" asked Bob. "The bullet-proof vest," said Gilmore. "I'll wear it in myself," said Moody. "You guys take care," Gilmore said.

Sunday morning, Vern went to Maximum Security and talked to Gary on the telephone, looking through the glass. For once they spoke about his mother's sisters in Provo. Gary was curious why none of his aunts, except for Ida, had been to see him. "What do you think?" he asked directly.

                "Oh, Gary," Vern said, "I'm sure they wanted to, but I can't answer for them." In Vern's head, he was still hearing one of Ida's sisters say, "I just can't make myself go up and talk to him."

                Gary said, "Mom is too sick, or she would be here."

                There was such a long, grim silence that Gary began to sing a Johnny Cash song. Rolled his eyes back and tried to let her out. When Gary saw Vern laughing, he said, "Well, I satisfy myself." Vern roared. "I'll sing you a little ditty," he told him.

                Gary groaned. "Not 'Old Shep.' " Vern was famous for singing "Old Shep." Every year when the Archery Club had their dinner, Vern would sing it.

                "Yes, 'Old Shep,' " said Vern.

                When I was a lad, and Old Shep was a pup,    Over hills and meadows we'd roam.

                Just a boy and his dog, we were both full of fun

                And we grew up together that way.

                As the years went along, Old Shep, he grew old

                And his eyesight was fast growing dim

                Then one day the doctor looked up at me and said,

                "I can't do no more for him, Jim."

                With a hand that was trembling, I picked up my gun

                And aimed it at Shep's faithful head

                But I just couldn't do it, oh, I wanted to run,

                And wished they would shoot me instead.

                Now, Old Shep, he knew he would go,

                He looked and licked at my hand,

                He stared up at me, just as much as to say,

                "We're parting, but you'll understand."

                Now Old Shep, he has gone where the good doggies go,

                And no more with Old Shep will I roam,

                But if dogs have a heaven, there's one thing I know,

                Old Shep has a wonderful home.

                "Yuck," said Gary.

                "That's all for today," said Vern. "That's as good as you deserve."

2

The Legal Defense Fund of the NAACP made available a lawyer in Washington named John Shattuck. He was going to present a petition for Athay to the United States Supreme Court. After the loss, therefore, in Judge Lewis's Court on Saturday afternoon, Athay's  office dictated a brief over the telephone. On Sunday it was carried by Shattuck to the Supreme Court, and filed.

       At 6:25 in the evening, D.C. time, which was 4:25 P.M. in Utah, a phone call came in to Athay from the Clerk of the Court, Michael Rodak. Justice White had endorsed the following quotation: "The application for stay is denied. I am authorized to say that a majority of my colleagues concur in this action. Bryron R. White, Associate Justice."

       Since the decision was not unanimous, Shattuck tried to approach other Justices. If one could find the right man on the minority side, he might grant a Stay. That would give an opportunity to offer one's arguments.

       Justice Blackmun responded, "The application for stay having been presented to me, after its denial by Justice White, is denied. Harry A. Blackmun, Associate Justice, January 16, 1977."

       Justice Brennan had not been contacted. The advice came from Washington that if Athay were to call and express the urgency of the situation, it might have impact. Justice Brennan had shown inclinations favorable to cases like this. So Athay, provided with an unlisted phone number, phoned person-to-person, and a voice came on and said, "This is Justice Brennan speaking." Athay had no more than introduced himself and said, "I'm involved in the Gary Gilmore case," when "Oh, my" he heard on the other end, and a click. He placed the call again. He could swear the same voice came on to say, "I'm sorry, he's out of town." He felt aghast. He knew, yet how could he ever know for certain whether he'd reached Justice Brennan or not?

       Athay had now exhausted everything he could do for Dale Pierre.

Waiting through Sunday morning and Sunday afternoon was murder. Schiller had a list of questions pinned to the wall next to the telephone. If Gilmore called again, and he wasn't there, Barry could take the call, or if Barry was also out, one of the girls would talk. The questions were ready. You didn't have to hem and haw, or conceal identities. Gary understood they were in a countdown.

All the same, Schiller was depressed. The high ambitions he had had for this interview were by now pretty thoroughly defeated. Mikal had left Utah, and with him had gone Schiller's best chance to get a few last-minute insights to Gary. He felt as if he had lost contact.

                Who could believe Gary would have gotten so angry about Moyers?

                When Mikal threatened to be a major obstacle to the execution, Gary must have set out to neutralize him. Became the big brother Mikal had never seen. The role had gotten too good. Gary was carrying on as if Schiller had really violated him. After all, belief in your own role was crucial to a hustle. But Schiller felt it was a steep price to pay..

                Moody telephoned from the prison, "You're going to get a call from the Warden." he told Schiller. "You are going to see the execution."

                Though the news had been in the papers, he had not yet received official word. So he was worried. If Sam Smith refused him at the gate, there would have to be last-minute legal maneuvers. The statutes might be all on his side, but such a situation would still be horrendous with tension.

                In five minutes, the phone rang again. Deputy Warden Hatch was saying, "Warden Smith has asked me to advise you to appear tomorrow morning at six AM. at the prison gate with no cameras and no recording devices, if you wish to witness the execution of Gary Mark Gilmore." Schiller said, "Thank you. Will you please deliver this message to the Warden. The statement I made to Gus Sorensen is correct. I do not intend to violate any rules and regulations that he has set up. Please assure him that I will conduct myself in the manner in which he would want me to conduct myself."

In that last phone call with Moody, he had been told that Gary wanted liquor brought in, and they had discussed how to do it.

                Schiller told Debbie to go to the Pharmacy and buy a couple of curved bottles. "If the pharmacy doesn't have them for sale," he told her, "just buy cough syrup, and pour it out."

                Debbie wanted to know why the bottles had to be curved. He had to explain they were like a hip flask, and made less of a bulge under your coat. Then he decided the amount would be insufficient, so he sent Tamera over to Western Airlines to purchase, if she could, some 1 1/2-ounce bottles of the sort they served on airplanes. In Utah, however, Western wouldn't go near liquor on Sunday. He called the Hilton and found out they didn't sell or serve until late that day. Finally, he heard of one Salt Lake bar where individual-drink bottles were sold, so he had Tamera call the Deseret News to send somebody over. Schiller figured they'd call a high-level meeting about it.

                Meanwhile, Tamera had come to feel sentimental about getting this liquor to Gary. Of course, by now, everybody was liking him.

                Even the people that didn't like him, liked him.

                Schiller could smell it in the air. Everybody was starting to think, What are we killing Gilmore for? What's the death going to accomplish?

                Breslin was walking around the office, cursing up a streak, "How dare they shoot the fucking guy, these fucking people?" Breslin was even furious at Gilmore for wanting to be offed.

                Larry decided to relax at the Xerox machine. It was agreeable to work at some mechanical activity. Then, Tamera came up to say her newspaper wouldn't go for the liquor. "I don't care who does it," said Schiller, "get somebody." Tamera called Cardell, who had to be one of the most active Mormons in Salt Lake, and would you believe it, he agreed to go over and get it as a Christian act? Thought a dying man ought to be able to have his last request. That was something. Tamera's brother was straight arrow like you wouldn't believe.

                Schiller called Stanger, and asked, "Will the Warden let me see Gary before the execution?" When Stanger said he didn't know Larry called the prison. The Warden still wouldn't talk to him.

                Schiller told himself, "If they do change their mind, I want to be right at the front door."

                Now, he studied the prison plan for the media, and decided it was very professional. "I don't believe the Warden made this out," he said aloud. It was just too sensible. Through the night, public announcements would be made every thirty minutes on the speaker, and a prison representative would come out frequently to talk to the reporters. A few minutes after the execution, the Warden would make a statement. Ten minutes after that, the press would be allowed to visit the site. It showed a knowledge of how to handle the media that had not been evident before. The very layout of the language intrigued Schiller. He said to himself, "I now have a match for my intelligence," and had one of his Dream-the-Impossible-Dream ideas. Maybe he would yet meet the author of this plan tonight and be able to explain why they should let him in to talk to Gary. "Yes," he said to himself, "I'm going to enter now as a member of the press."