Latest news with #Parchman
Yahoo
08-07-2025
- Yahoo
Inside a Mississippi execution: Clarion Ledger reporter recounts what it was like
Editor's note: This is the latest edition of Curious Mississippi, a service to the readers of the Clarion Ledger. Today we answer, What is it like to cover an execution? Other questions answered by Curious Mississippi have surrounded judicial appointments, recycling, potholes, UMMC construction, cicadas and the international nature of the Jackson airport. Readers can submit questions by email to CuriousMississippi@ and editors will pick out the best and reporters will answer them in an upcoming edition. The visitation center at the Mississippi State Penitentiary in Parchman has no windows, just fluorescent lighting, plastic chairs and tables in a cafeteria-style room. I could technically step outside, but only through a single entrance and doing so meant going through the full security screening all over again — it didn't feel worth it. A few friendly prison staff walked around, quietly watching us. The Wi-Fi cut in and out. All the while, I returned to the thought I was there to watch someone die. By 5:30 p.m. Wednesday, June 25, I had been sitting in the windowless visitation center for nearly 5 hours. I waited alongside six other journalists from throughout the state to witness the scheduled execution of Richard Jordan, 79, a convicted murderer who had spent the past 48 years on Mississippi's death row for the murder of Edwina Marter. A wife and mother of two, Marter was kidnapped by Jordan from her family home in 1976 and killed. This was my first time covering an execution, and from what I gathered in conversations with other journalists, it's not the kind of assignment anyone looks forward to. It's grim. You don't know what to expect. The weight of what's about to happen settles over you — I felt it most during the 3-hour drive from Jackson to Parchman that morning. But I kept thinking about something the late war correspondent Marie Colvin once said: our job as journalists is to "bear witness." I applied for permission to attend the execution in early June, as the state finalized preparations and Jordan's attorneys filed a flurry of last-minute appeals to halt the execution. The process to watch an execution is straightforward bureaucracy: you apply to the Mississippi Department of Corrections, providing your name, date of birth, Social Security number, phone number, email and the media outlet you work for. Then you wait. MDOC later notifies you if you've been selected. I was met at the prison by Clarion Ledger photojournalist Lauren Witte, who wasn't allowed to photograph the execution. She came to document the protests outside the prison and to capture photos and video from the press conferences by prison officials before and after the execution. I arrived an hour before a 2 p.m. press conference held by MDOC officials. The visitation center, located near the prison's main entrance, served as our staging area. After passing through airport-style security, I settled in. Finger sandwiches, chips, cookies and cinnamon rolls were laid out to hold us over while we waited. MDOC Commissioner Burl Cain came in to shake everyone's hand before the press conference, where officials shared what Jordan had ordered for his last meal. The press conference was over in minutes. For the next 4 hours, reporters fiddled with their laptops, others scrolled through their phones. One reporter read, some paced the room and made edits to the stories they would file once it was all over. Eventually, an MDOC spokesperson came to gather those selected to witness the execution. We went through security once more and were told we couldn't bring any electronics. Instead, we were handed a pad and pen to record our observations. Then the officials herded us into a police van and drove toward the layers of barbed-wire fencing surrounding Unit 17 — the prison's execution chamber. Unit 17 — the same building where Freedom Riders, arrested for civil rights activism, were held in 1961 — looks like a small prison within the larger one. It's a one-story building set back from the main road, with a long driveway leading up to it. Our van sat idling on that road for about 5 minutes, the air conditioning barely working, while corrections staff made final security checks. The driver then pulled up to the back entrance. We parked there for another minute before being told to exit the van and led single-file into one of the execution observation rooms, which had about 15 seats. Three in the front were already occupied — by Jordan's wife, one of his attorneys and his spiritual adviser. The rest of us filled in the remaining seats. A thin curtain blocked our view of the execution chamber, but we could hear people moving around behind it. Once we were seated, a prison official reminded us that there was to be no talking. Anyone who broke that rule, he said, would be escorted out of the building. Then he shut the door. The room went black — so dark I couldn't even see the notes I'd scribbled on the pad they gave me. No one spoke. The only sounds were the muffled shuffling of MDOC officials behind the window and the quiet sobs of Jordan's wife in the front row. The room was tense and still. We had been waiting for hours, and now we were just minutes away from the moment we had come for. The anticipation was real. I had no idea what I was about to see once that curtain rose. At exactly 6 p.m., the curtain lifted. Jordan was lying on his back, covered in a white sheet up to his neck, his arms stretched out to each side. Four MDOC officials surrounded him: Cain stood over his right shoulder, Regional Superintendent Marc McClure over his left, and two others were positioned near his feet — one of them a woman with a stethoscope around her neck. McClure asked if Jordan had any final words, and he gave them while reporters frantically wrote down notes on the pads. Then the lethal injection began. It's not like someone comes in with a big needle and injects him. In fact, Jordan's IV wasn't even visible. I could not tell you where the drugs were administered, but the three-drug protocol began with a sedative. Within moments, Jordan visibly drifted off to sleep — though his eyes remained partially open and his mouth fell slightly agape. I was sitting in the back row, so I stood to make my observations. You could hear the scribbling of reporters taking notes, occasionally glancing up at the clock mounted on the wall of the execution chamber. MDOC officials observed quietly. At 6:08, a man wearing sunglasses and a hat — looking almost like he was in disguise — entered to perform the court-mandated consciousness check and declared Jordan unconscious. By law, MDOC is not allowed to reveal the identity of the man who conducted the unconsciousness check. Additional drugs followed. Eight minutes later, at 6:16, the woman with the stethoscope checked Jordan's vitals and pronounced him dead. The curtain slowly dropped, and once again, we were sitting in total darkness. It may feel strange to put it this way, but the execution unfolded quietly and without incident. There were no visible complications — none of the convulsions or delays often associated with botched executions. Everything about the process had been orderly, almost mechanical. Each moment planned, each movement accounted for. The calm didn't make it any easier to watch. We sat in the dark for a few more minutes until an official led us back to the police van. On the ride back to the visitation center, reporters talked — piecing together the timeline, already thinking about the stories we'd soon have to file. It felt strange, but also familiar — slipping back into work mode after something so heavy. Back at the visitation center, we waited for a press conference. Commissioner Cain and McClure gave brief remarks. Members of Marter's family also spoke, offering a statement that was somber but resolute. "She was loved and needed," said her nephew. Marter's husband and sons did not attend the execution. Afterward, officials quickly began ushering us out. We were told to gather our things and leave the property. Just like that, it was over — hours of waiting, a life ended and then the parking lot. Contact Charlie Drape at cdrape@ This article originally appeared on Mississippi Clarion Ledger: Covering an execution in Mississippi death chamber
Yahoo
30-06-2025
- Yahoo
Mississippi inmate Richard Jordan picks last meal ahead of execution at Parchman
PARCHMAN, Miss. — Richard Jordan, Mississippi's longest-serving death-row inmate, requested chicken tenders, fries, strawberry ice cream and a root beer float for his last meal ahead of his scheduled execution Wednesday, June 25. Marc McClure, regional superintendent for the Mississippi Department of Corrections, announced the meal choice during a 2 p.m. press conference at the Mississippi State Penitentiary's visitor center in Parchman. He was joined by MDOC Commissioner Burl Cain. McClure said Jordan would eat his final meal at 4 p.m. Jordan, 79, is scheduled to be executed Wednesday, June 25, at 6 p.m. at the Mississippi State Penitentiary at Parchman. On Monday, June 23, the United States Supreme Court denied Jordan's petition for a review of his case. The decision follows a flurry of appeals from Jordan's lawyers to try to halt the execution in recent weeks. Each have been denied. Jordan was sentenced to death in 1977 for the 1976 kidnapping and murder of Edwina Marter, a Gulfport bank executive's wife. He's lived on death row for 48 years, making him the state's longest-serving death row prisoner. When asked what kind of inmate Jordan had been during his decades on death row, McClure said only that he has never been a 'problematic inmate.' "The Mississippi Department of Corrections is prepared to carry out the execution that's been handed down by the court," McClure said. "That execution will happen at 6 p.m. today. Right now, all movement at the prison is restricted to emergency movement." Jordan has been in a holding cell since Sunday, June 22. As of Wednesday afternoon, he was meeting with family members, though McClure declined to say who they were. "He's visited with his family, lawyers, spiritual advisers and matter-of-fact right now he is still meeting with his family at this time," McClure said. "That will carry on through this afternoon 'til approximately 4 p.m." McClure described Jordan as "talkative, appears to be in a good mood" and that he was telling stories. "He's talking about his past and his history and things like that," McClure said. While McClure noted Jordan's demeanor, he declined to answer whether there were concerns about the inmate's mental state, given his age of nearly 80. "That's not for me to answer, that was the court (who made the decision)," McClure said. Contact Charlie Drape at cdrape@ This article originally appeared on Mississippi Clarion Ledger: Mississippi death row inmate Richard Jordan picks last meal
Yahoo
30-06-2025
- Yahoo
Execution completed by lethal injection for Mississippi murderer Richard Jordan at Parchman
PARCHMAN, Miss. — Richard Jordan, who spent nearly half a century on Mississippi's death row, was lying strapped to a gurney with his arms splayed out and covered in a white sheet up to his neck when the curtain to Unit 17 rose at 6 p.m. Wednesday, June 25, at the Mississippi State Penitentiary in Parchman. Jordan was surrounded by four Mississippi Department of Correction officials, including Commissioner Burl Cain and Marc McClure, the regional superintendent. McClure asked Jordan if he had any last words, to which Jordan responded "yes." "First I would like to thank everyone here for a humane way of doing this," Jordan said as he looked at the ceiling. "I wish to apologize to the family. I ask that you forgive me for what I did, not forget, but forgive." Jordan then thanked his lawyer and his wife, Marsha, who was sitting and sobbing in the front-row behind the glass viewing area. Marsha was sitting with Krissy Nobile, director of the Mississippi Office of Capital Post-Conviction Counsel, and Tim Murphy, Jordan's spiritual adviser. "I love you," Jordan said. "See you on the other side, all of you. Thank you." For the next eight minutes, the observation room was silent. Jordan's breathing initially slowed, then quickened briefly before slowing again. His eyes gradually closed, and his mouth fell slightly open. By 6:11 p.m., no chest movement was visible. Earlier, at 6:08 p.m., a man with sunglasses on and a blue hat had come into the room and rubbed Jordan's chest to do a consciousness check. U.S. District Judge Henry Wingate ruled last week that if Jordan remains conscious four minutes after receiving the first drug — a sedative — the state must stop the execution. "In my professional opinion, this person is unconscious," the man in sunglasses said. Cain told reporters at a press conference after the execution that "by law" MDOC officials were not allowed to identify the man who did the consciousness check. At 6:16 p.m., Jordan was pronounced dead. The curtain to Unit 17 then slowly closed. "It went as well and smooth as can go and again our hearts go out to the victim's family and to Richard's family," McClure said. McClure said Jordan's body has been claimed by Jordan's family. Jordan, who grew up in Petal, was sentenced to death in 1977 for the 1976 kidnapping and murder of Edwina Marter, a Gulfport bank executive's wife. He's lived on death row for 48 years, making him the state's longest-serving death row prisoner. At a 2 p.m. press conference, McClure described Jordan as 'talkative," saying he appeared "to be in a good mood' ahead of the execution. McClure also announced Jordan's last meal, which he ate at 4 p.m. Jordan requested chicken tenders, fries, strawberry ice cream and a root beer float for his last meal. In a previous interview with the Hattiesburg American, Marter's son, Eric, said he and his brother, Kevin, as well as his father, Charles, would not be attending Jordan's execution. "I don't really have any real desire to go basically and waste my time," Eric said in a phone interview. "I would [have thought] that this had been taken care of 35-40 years ago. It's been probably too long." Keith De Gruy, Edwina Marter's nephew who MDOC officials identified as a "family spokesperson," said a few words on behalf of Marter's family after the execution during a 7 p.m. press conference. "We are grateful this day has finally come even though it doesn't fill the void of Edwina being taken from our lives," De Gruy said. "She will forever be missed by her family and friends." On Monday, June 23, the U.S. Supreme Court denied Jordan's petition to review his case. The Supreme Court also failed to give Jordan a last-minute stay on Wednesday. Those decisions follow a flurry of appeals from Jordan's lawyers to try to halt the execution in recent weeks. Each have been denied. Additionally, Republican Gov. Tate Reeves denied Jordan's plea for clemency on Tuesday, June 24. "Richard lived by the quote that 'you cannot have both love and hate in your heart at the same time,'" Nobile said in an emailed statement after the execution. "Richard always strove to show love to those around him, and he found comfort in his last days in 1 Corinthians 13, which reminds us that a life without love, is no life at all." "Richard spent every day trying to make up for his crime. Until his last day, he sought only to help others. Richard, his family, and his counsel express their deep and sincere sympathy for the family of Edwina Marter." Outside the prison, anti-death penalty protesters gathered around 4:30 p.m. to denounce Jordan's execution and call for an end to capital punishment. A total of 11 protesters stood outside the prison. Sheila O'Flaherty, 79, was among them and said she's attended 'every execution that we've had.' She previously lived near Parchman, which made it easier to be present. Now living in Jackson, she still makes the trip to protest. "I just think it's wrong for the state to execute anybody," she said. "I have enough confidence that the state can keep the people safe, so why do you need to execute someone? He's a human being." Rev. Jeff Hood, a self-described death row spiritual advisor, was also standing outside the prison with the protesters. He previously told the Clarion Ledger that he would be outside Parchman "in protest but also in prayer." At 5 p.m., a lone protester stood in from of the Mississippi governor's mansion, holding a sign that read: "Murder 1, plus Murder 2 does not equal Justice or Peace." The solitary protester paced between the cameras and reporters of two TV stations. Jordan's execution is the 25th in the U.S. this year. A day prior, on Tuesday, June 24, Florida executed Thomas Lee Gudinas, 51, by lethal injection at the Florida State Prison, making him the 24th. It was Florida's seventh of 2025 — the most of any state so far this year. According to the Death Penalty Information Center, no more than 24 people were executed in any year over the past five years — making 2025 already one of the deadliest years for executions in recent history. Capital punishment in MS: A history of executions in Mississippi. How many? What methods? What we know With Jordan's execution, Mississippi joined nine other states that have carried out executions in 2025. Those states include Alabama, Arizona, Florida, Indiana, Louisiana, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Tennessee and Texas. This was Mississippi's first execution in three years. Thomas Loden, a convicted murderer and rapist, was executed in December 2022. Loden's execution also began at 6 p.m. He spoke his last words at 6:01 and was pronounced dead at 6:12 p.m. No other executions in Mississippi are scheduled this year, according to the MDOC website. Mississippi currently permits four methods of execution: lethal injection, nitrogen hypoxia, electrocution and firing squad. While lethal injection remains the state's preferred method, a 2022 law removed the previously established order of alternatives, giving the Mississippi Department of Corrections discretion to choose among the legal options. Despite the legality of firing squads, the state has never used that method. Contact Charlie Drape at cdrape@ Staff Writer Lici Beveridge contributed to this report. This article originally appeared on Mississippi Clarion Ledger: Mississippi execution of Richard Jordan after nearly 50 years on death row
The Guardian
26-06-2025
- The Guardian
Longest-serving person on Mississippi's death row executed
The longest-serving person on Mississippi's death row was executed Wednesday, nearly five decades after he kidnapped and killed a bank loan officer's wife in a violent ransom scheme. Richard Gerald Jordan, a 79-year-old Vietnam veteran with post-traumatic stress disorder whose final appeals were denied without comment by the US supreme court, was sentenced to death in 1976 for killing and kidnapping Edwina Marter. He died by lethal injection at the Mississippi state penitentiary in Parchman. The execution began at 6pm, according to prison officials. Jordan lay on the gurney with his mouth slightly ajar and took several deep breaths before becoming still. The time of death was given as 6:16pm. Jordan was one of several on the state's death row who sued the state over its three-drug execution protocol, claiming it is inhumane. When given an opportunity to make a final statement Wednesday, he said: 'First I would like to thank everyone for a humane way of doing this. I want to apologize to the victim's family.' He also thanked his lawyers and his wife and asked for forgiveness. His last words were: 'I will see you on the other side, all of you.' Jordan's wife, Marsha Jordan, witnessed the execution, along with his lawyer Krissy Nobile and a spiritual adviser, the Rev Tim Murphy. His wife and lawyer dabbed their eyes several times. During a news conference after the execution, Keith Degruy, a spokesperson for Marter's family, read a statement on behalf of her two sons and husband, who were not present at the execution. 'Nothing will bring back our mom, sister and our friend. Nothing can ever change what Jordan took from us 49 years ago,' he said. Jordan's execution was the third in the state in the last 10 years; previously the most recent one was carried out in December 2022. It came a day after a man was put to death in Florida, in what is shaping up to be a year with the most executions since 2015. Mississippi supreme court records show that in January 1976, Jordan called the Gulf National Bank in Gulfport and asked to speak with a loan officer. After he was told that Charles Marter could speak to him, he hung up. He then looked up the Marters' home address in a telephone book and kidnapped Edwina Marter. According to court records, Jordan took her to a forest and fatally shot her before calling her husband, claiming she was safe and demanding $25,000. As of the beginning of the year, Jordan was one of 22 people sentenced in the 1970s who were still on death row, according to the Death Penalty Information Center. His execution ended a decades-long court process that included four trials and numerous appeals. On Monday, the supreme court rejected a petition that argued he was denied due process rights. 'He was never given what for a long time the law has entitled him to, which is a mental health professional that is independent of the prosecution and can assist his defense,' said lawyer Krissy Nobile, director of Mississippi's Office of Capital Post-Conviction Counsel, who represented Jordan. 'Because of that his jury never got to hear about his Vietnam experiences.' A recent petition asking the state's governor, Tate Reeves, for clemency echoed Nobile's claim. It said Jordan suffered severe PTSD after serving three back-to-back tours, which could have been a factor in his crime. Reeves denied the request. Eric Marter said he does not buy that argument: 'I know what he did. He wanted money, and he couldn't take her with him. And he – so he did what he did.'
Yahoo
26-06-2025
- Yahoo
Mississippi executes Richard Jordan; on death row for nearly 50 years
June 25 (UPI) -- Richard Jordan, the longest-serving death row inmate in Mississippi's history, Richard Jordan, was executed Wednesday night at the Mississippi State Penitentiary in Parchman. Jordan, 79, was convicted and sentenced to death for the Jan. 12, 1976, kidnapping and murder of Edwina Marter, who was a stay-at-home mother of two young sons. It was Mississippi's first execution in three years. No other executions in Mississippi are scheduled this year, according to the MDOC website. He died by lethal injection and the time of death was 6:16 p.m. CDT, the Mississippi Department of Corrections said. The procedure by lethal injection began at 6 p.m. He was strapped to a gurney with his arms spread out and covered in a white sheet up to his neck, the Clarion Ledge reported. Jordan was surrounded by four Mississippi Department of Corrections officials. Marc McClure, the regional superintendent, asked Jordan if he had any last words. "First I would like to thank everyone here for a humane way of doing this," Jordan said as he looked at the ceiling. "I wish to apologize to the family. I ask that you forgive me for what I did, not forget, but forgive." Jordan then thanked his lawyer and his wife, Marsha, who was sitting and sobbing in the front-row behind the glass viewing area. Marsha was with Krissy Nobile, director of the Mississippi Office of Capital Post-Conviction Counsel, and Tim Murphy, Jordan's spiritual adviser. "I love you," Jordan said. "See you on the other side, all of you. Thank you." The execution was carried out on an order from the Mississippi Supreme Court issued on May 1. Jordan was one of three on Mississippi's death row suing the state's three-drug protocol. The execution occurred about six months short of Jordan's 50th year in prison, and he sought a stay of execution. Jordan was first sentenced on July 21, 1976, followed by 1977, 1983, and 1998 in separate trials. The U.S. Supreme Court denied Jordan's remaining appeals Wednesday afternoon, and Mississippi Gov. Tate Reeves denied Jordan's request for clemency. Jordan chose chicken tenders, fries, strawberry ice cream and a root beer float for his last meal at 4 p.m., the Clarion Ledger reported. Previously he visited with his family, lawyers and spiritual advisers. He moved to a holding cell at 6 p.m. Death Penalty Information Center, a nonprofit organization that tracks executions throughout the U.S. Jordan's execution is the 25th in the U.S. this year. On Tuesday, Florida executed Thomas Lee Gudinas, 51, by lethal injection at the Florida State Prison. It was Florida's seventh of 2025 - the most of any state. Besides lethal injection, three are methods are available: nitrogen hypoxia, electrocution and firing squad. In 2015, a federal judge issued a temporary halt of executions in Mississippi in response to a complaint by death row inmates who say the state's lethal injection protocol is "excruciating." Sedatives pentobarbital and midazolam had been used. In 2021, Mississippi carried out the execution of David Cox by lethal injection, the first one in nearly a decade using midazolam, vecuronium bromide and potassium chloride. These are the current drugs used.
