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{"id":11856,"date":"2024-07-07T00:11:10","date_gmt":"2024-07-07T06:11:10","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/?p=11856"},"modified":"2024-07-07T00:11:10","modified_gmt":"2024-07-07T06:11:10","slug":"the-execution-of-michael-smith-a-full-account-from-oklahoma","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/the-execution-of-michael-smith-a-full-account-from-oklahoma\/","title":{"rendered":"The Execution of Michael Smith: A Full Account from Oklahoma"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<\/head>

<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Amidst horror, descriptions fail.\u00a0 Towering walls on all sides holding back countless tons of dirt.\u00a0 Each stone whispering secrets of imprisoned souls.\u00a0 Glass doors that lead underground.\u00a0 Though you can see through, you have absolutely no idea what\u2019s coming.\u00a0 Once past the threshold of hope, you wait until it\u2019s your turn.\u00a0 Sign in.\u00a0 Turn around.\u00a0 Spread your legs.\u00a0 Hold your arms out.\u00a0 Foreign hands rubbing all over your body.\u00a0 The only thing apparent now is that any agency you ever is now dead.\u00a0 You left it with the same officer that you gave your keys and license to. \u00a0Hope dies quickly.\u00a0 Now, you\u2019re a prisoner too.<\/p>\n

Loudly, the door slides open.\u00a0 The officer pushes you forward.\u00a0 Mindlessly, you just do what you\u2019re told.\u00a0 What else are you supposed to do?\u00a0 If you think about it too long\u2026\u00a0 Just keep walking.\u00a0 The hallways are long.\u00a0 For the guys I work with, they all lead to the same place, death.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t think about everybody right now.\u00a0 I had one objective.\u00a0 Michael Smith.\u00a0 After what seemed like miles, I turned the corner.\u00a0 There he was. \u00a0Sitting at the table.\u00a0 Tough as nails.\u00a0 Smiling like always.\u00a0 Quickly, he arose.\u00a0 The room changed.\u00a0 For a second, we were no longer in prison.\u00a0 Hope returned.\u00a0 We were brothers.\u00a0 I think we believed that somehow the humanity we shared in that small visitation room would transcend the horrors that united us.\u00a0 Maybe.\u00a0 Just maybe.\u00a0 Somebody on the outside might connect with what was happening.\u00a0 Life.<\/p>\n

We hugged longer than usual.\u00a0 When you know that you\u2019re giving someone what could be their last hug, I guess you want to make it count.\u00a0 While this was of course a spiritual visit, we chose to define what was spiritual broadly.\u00a0 Life is always spiritual right?\u00a0 Michael wanted to know about the vending machines.\u00a0 Unfortunately, prison officials weren\u2019t interested in us getting any snacks.\u00a0 I noticed the table was freshly scrubbed with a sanitizing wipe.\u00a0 I found it strange that Michael would be so concerned about germs with less than a day to live.\u00a0 But then again, that was Michael.\u00a0 Each time I\u2019d traveled to see him, I saw him wipe that table down as hard as he could.\u00a0 Over and over. \u00a0I was more concerned with the ethical germs that seemed to be everywhere.\u00a0 The infection of evil all around.\u00a0 Whispers of murder around every corner.\u00a0 I had to get my brain back.\u00a0 Focus.<\/p>\n

Michael wanted to know what was going on with his case.\u00a0 I knew the truth.\u00a0 Nothing.\u00a0 Throughout Michael\u2019s case, lawyers had let him down.\u00a0 It seemed that whenever he got close to hope, there was always a lawyer there to snatch it right out from his grasp.\u00a0 Though Michael had obvious mental delays, he was smart enough to understand it was happening again.\u00a0 Repeatedly, he demanded to know what was being done.\u00a0 Repeatedly, I had to say that I didn\u2019t know.\u00a0 How do you tell someone that it\u2019s the end?\u00a0 How do you snatch away every ounce of hope they might have left?\u00a0 I knew his attorney wasn\u2019t going to do shit, and that whatever he was forced to put together was going to be shit.\u00a0 When I offered that we were at least going to have a rally and petition delivery at the Governor\u2019s Office in Oklahoma City, he quickly cut me off, \u201cThat ain\u2019t going to do shit.\u201d\u00a0 He was right.\u00a0 Michael was right the entire time.\u00a0 The fix was in.\u00a0 There was nothing we could do to stop this thing from going off the cliff.\u00a0 But hope dies last.<\/p>\n

Eyeballs are powerful.\u00a0 Michael regularly used his to get his point across.\u00a0 I have no doubt that he\u2019d won many staring contests.\u00a0 This time though, his gaze began to drift.\u00a0 Executions have a way of breaking down even the most focused minds.\u00a0 When I began to ask Michael about tomorrow, he started talking about a phone call that he had to take later on in the afternoon.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t have the heart to tell him that there would be no afternoon.\u00a0 The execution was scheduled for the morning. \u00a0Slowly, his focus returned.\u00a0 We began to discuss last things.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t help but notice that the guard hadn\u2019t stopped watching us the entire time.\u00a0 It was as if he thought that we were going to run out at any moment.\u00a0 Even if we made it out the door, there was nowhere to go.\u00a0 Door after door destroyed hope of any kind.\u00a0 I wanted to tell him to chill out, but I had more pressing things to worry about.\u00a0 \u201cDo you think you\u2019re going to heaven?\u201d \u00a0I asked the question only because I was curious about his response.\u00a0 Honestly, the only type of salvation I was worried about was keeping him from being executed.\u00a0 I figured I\u2019d let God sort out the rest.\u00a0 Love always has a way of getting everybody where they need to be.\u00a0 \u201cHell yeah!\u201d\u00a0 Michael\u2019s response had me cracking up.\u00a0 I\u2019d never met faith so simple so strong so close to an execution.\u00a0 Though Michael was often unsure of the path, he had no doubt about the destination.<\/p>\n

There was a sign above our heads telling visitors what to do with the snacks they bought from the vending machines.\u00a0 Empty all contents on a napkin on the table.\u00a0 No closed packages are to be kept by prisoners.\u00a0 Such rules seem foolish.\u00a0 I considered the meaning of such words amidst the present juxtaposition, but I was distracted by rat shit a little ways down.\u00a0 Immediately, I was so thankful that Michael scrubbed the table.\u00a0 Using a paper towel, I wiped the table one more time before I moved the elements of the Eucharist between us.\u00a0 \u201cSo, that\u2019s my snack?\u201d\u00a0 Michael and I talked about the meaning of each part.\u00a0 Now, Michael\u2019s eyes were fixed somewhere beyond where we were.\u00a0 He looked straight up, but it was clear that he was seeing something else.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t ask.\u00a0 The moment was too important.\u00a0 \u201cThis is my body.\u201d\u00a0 The words struck me from every direction.\u00a0 The State of Oklahoma had every intention of destroying the body of Michael Smith.\u00a0 Yet, the body of Jesus illustrates that the body can never be destroyed.\u00a0 I was trying to make sense of it all.\u00a0 Michael just looked up.\u00a0 \u201cThis is my blood.\u201d\u00a0 It\u2019s strange to talk about blood when you know that the blood in front of you is about to be spilled for no reason.\u00a0 Michael lowered his head.\u00a0 His eyes were closed.\u00a0 Yet, somehow, I was aware that Michael was seeing more clearly now than he ever had.\u00a0 He never opened his eyes.\u00a0 He just devoured the bread and wine.\u00a0 \u201cThis is all the food that I need.\u201d\u00a0 Michael had more faith than I did.\u00a0 I was desperately trying to figure out how to keep him here.\u00a0 Yet, his soul already seemed to be somewhere else.\u00a0 The end already seemed predetermined.\u00a0 Yet, Michael wasn\u2019t done.<\/p>\n

\u201cTime\u2019s up.\u201d\u00a0 There wasn\u2019t much time to say goodbye.\u00a0 We both had places to go.\u00a0 I slipped as I tried to stand.\u00a0 I think the guard thought I was going to resist leaving.\u00a0 \u201cTime\u2019s up.\u201d\u00a0 Other guards came to the door.\u00a0 Ignoring the collective ignorance, I leaned in to hug Michael.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019ve got this!\u201d\u00a0 I took my thumb and made the sign of the cross on his forehead.\u00a0 \u201cGod is with you.\u201d\u00a0 He pulled me close.\u00a0 \u201cI love you bro.\u201d \u00a0As I turned to leave, I wanted to make sure that everybody heard me, \u201cI love you too.\u201d\u00a0 And just like that, I was swiftly escorted out.\u00a0 Door after door slammed behind me.\u00a0 When I asked the guard how he was dealing with being this close to an execution, he said it plainly and firmly one more time, \u201cTime\u2019s up.\u201d<\/p>\n

The cruelty of the sun burned.\u00a0 It was a reminder that this day was fleeting, and tomorrow was dead.\u00a0 I jumped.\u00a0 I sat.\u00a0 Then, I pointed my car toward Oklahoma City. \u00a0I rushed to see if there was anything to be revived.\u00a0 Little did I know, hope already bled out.<\/p>\n

Some people drive to take a break.\u00a0 Not me.\u00a0 Not this day.\u00a0 Every bump brought new disturbances.\u00a0 Every sign was a clue as to what more could be done.\u00a0 Every mile a reminder that Michael was still alive.\u00a0 Every breathe a reminder that time was running out.<\/p>\n

There are always final petitions to the Governor.\u00a0 You run up the steps in hopes that your voice might be the voice that stops the insanity.\u00a0 Of course, the Governor never hears these petitions in person.\u00a0 I\u2019m not sure it matters.\u00a0 When you go to the office, you talk to a secretary.\u00a0 While they say your words will get to the Governor, it feels like the conversation is more of an opportunity for advocates to vent than it is to legitimately try to save a life.\u00a0 Something of a loud blubbering self-help group for activists.\u00a0 We repeatedly talked about Jesus.\u00a0 Despite the horrible Christian music playing softly in the background or the numerous displays of civic Christianity, Jesus wasn\u2019t there.\u00a0 In fact, you had to leave your Jesus at the door.\u00a0 The real Jesus would probably never even get through security.\u00a0 We begged them to save Michael, they just smiled politely.\u00a0 That\u2019s their job.\u00a0 They\u2019re professionals at leaving their feelings secured in the glovebox of their car.\u00a0 After a surplus of tears and raised voices, it was over.<\/p>\n

In the hallway, I became aware that Michael\u2019s lawyers had lied once again.\u00a0 Dishonesty is something that folks on death row are accustomed to.\u00a0 From my experiences, I\u2019d come to realize that the lawyers that represent the condemned in Oklahoma are some of the worst in the nation.\u00a0 Regularly, they miss deadlines and tank cases.\u00a0 The only thing that they\u2019d offered Michael was to grease the rails of his impending execution.\u00a0 He hated them.\u00a0 I\u2019d grown to feel similarly.\u00a0 Anyone with a soul would.\u00a0 His helpless cries in the night festered.\u00a0 Though they\u2019d promised Michael that they\u2019d file a final appeal to the United States Supreme Court, we were told at the last minute that any such assertion was a misunderstanding.\u00a0 Of course, such a characterization was a lie, just like all the so-called misunderstandings before.\u00a0 The family couldn\u2019t figure out what to do at this late hour.\u00a0 Can you imagine if these lawyers just nonchalantly dropped the last chance there was to save the life of someone you loved?<\/p>\n

Anguish took over.\u00a0 Questions ricocheted off the marble.\u00a0 I couldn\u2019t let it go.\u00a0 Looking at Michael\u2019s brother, I suggested that the group go to the lawyer\u2019s office and demand that the lawyers file the appeal.\u00a0 Before I knew it, I was standing with dozens of people outside a narrow hallway that led to Michael\u2019s lawyer\u2019s office.\u00a0 I stepped back.\u00a0 Sometimes one must unleash the whirlwind and let God take it from there.\u00a0 Nobody wanted any trouble.\u00a0 Everybody just wanted the lawyers to do what they said they were going to do.\u00a0 I knew it was important for the family to take the lead.\u00a0 When the lawyers saw all these folks standing outside the door, they immediately locked it.\u00a0 Cowards.\u00a0 They wouldn\u2019t even face the family.\u00a0 Instead of engaging the issue at hand, they did what white people most often do when faced with a large crowd of black people, they went and got a black person of their own.\u00a0 This guy shows up and says that he was there to keep the peace.\u00a0 No justice.\u00a0 No peace.\u00a0 How could we feel any differently?\u00a0 Promises made.\u00a0 Promises broken.\u00a0 Promises don\u2019t mean shit in Oklahoma.<\/p>\n

Remembering.\u00a0 I raced to bed. \u00a0I was so excited.\u00a0 I was a young child.\u00a0 When you\u2019re young, hotels are the types of places that dreams are made of.\u00a0 It was my first vacation.\u00a0 I remember sliding into the covers.\u00a0 Something snagged on my skin.\u00a0 Ripping the covers off, I realized that something was clinging to my leg.\u00a0 It was a yellowed toenail.\u00a0 I screamed.\u00a0 Ever since then, I\u2019ve hated sleeping in hotels.\u00a0 So, I don\u2019t know what I was thinking when I chose this cheap hotel to stay in.\u00a0 I was dreading that bed the entire time I was driving back from Oklahoma City.\u00a0 Then again, I do know what I was thinking.\u00a0 I was broke.\u00a0 I take very few donations to do the work that I do.\u00a0 I have a strong belief that money poisons everything.\u00a0 When I got back to the room, I noticed something that I hadn\u2019t seen prior.\u00a0 There was blood on the comforter.\u00a0 It was the middle of the night.\u00a0 This was a cheap hotel.\u00a0 There were no quick solutions.\u00a0 I was exhausted.\u00a0 So, I just left all my clothes on and laid down.\u00a0 Once I cleared the blood from my mind, Michael took back over.<\/p>\n

Horror.\u00a0 Desperation.\u00a0 Pain.\u00a0 The night before an execution is the sum of all fears.\u00a0 The words of Christ became the words of Michael.\u00a0 \u201cStay awake with me.\u201d\u00a0 I was so tired.\u00a0 I\u2019d given everything that I had.\u00a0 Yet, I felt such a duty to stay awake.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know how to pray.\u00a0 I just knew to pray.\u00a0 Michael was my only focus.\u00a0 I tried to push any distractions from my mind.\u00a0 The fact that I still didn\u2019t know whether the attorneys actually filed the final appeal or not gnawed at me.\u00a0 Nevertheless, I prayed.\u00a0 \u201cGod stop this insanity!\u201d\u00a0 \u201cGod draw near to Michael!\u201d\u00a0 \u201cGod show me your face!\u201d\u00a0 These were less requests and more demands.\u00a0 After an extended amount of time, I fell asleep.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t mean to.\u00a0 I just couldn\u2019t help it.\u00a0 When I woke up, I knew I\u2019d failed.\u00a0 When I looked at my phone, I realized how bad.\u00a0 At 2:48am, Michael had sent a text message trying to figure out how to make his attorneys file his final appeal and asked me to make a public appeal to help.\u00a0 He was clearly scared. \u00a0He was clearly in agony.\u00a0 He was clearly in pain.\u00a0 I\u2019d clearly fallen asleep.\u00a0 I hadn\u2019t stayed awake with Michael on the most frightening night of his life.\u00a0 Pulling myself into a sitting position, I sat on the edge of the bed and cried.\u00a0 The blood hadn\u2019t been enough to keep me awake.<\/p>\n

The water couldn\u2019t wash away the guilt I felt.\u00a0 When Michael needed me, I was asleep.\u00a0 It was hard to determine whether I was awake or dreaming.\u00a0 My eyes were open, but I wanted everything to be a nightmare.\u00a0 Regardless, I guess it was.\u00a0 I grabbed the Gideon\u2019s Bible.\u00a0 Strangely, I\u2019d made a habit of using the Gideon\u2019s Bibles from the hotel rooms I stayed in.\u00a0 Something about it made me feel like I was using something new for the guys.\u00a0 Think about it like an athlete that wears a new pair of cleats for every game.\u00a0 I also knew that the pages would always be clean, and I\u2019d be able to write whatever I wanted to in it.\u00a0 Anyways, I kept packing the car.\u00a0 It was colder than I thought it would be.\u00a0 Maybe that was just the condition that I felt in my heart.\u00a0 I\u2019d let Michael down.\u00a0 I was frozen.\u00a0 I had to get going.\u00a0 Everything was packed.\u00a0 Come what may, I was prepared to make my escape immediately after it was all said and done.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t want to stay in Oklahoma one second beyond what was necessary.\u00a0 I\u2019d had enough.\u00a0 I\u2019d had more than enough.<\/p>\n

Sulfur smells permeated doors and windows.\u00a0 I knew that I was getting close to the epicenter of evil.\u00a0 The place where demons played with life and death and called it justice.\u00a0 I\u2019d been instructed to park in a small lot right next to Oklahoma State Penitentiary.\u00a0 The contradictions tore at my soul.\u00a0 Was I supposed to be here?\u00a0 Michael needs me.\u00a0 Was I supposed to run?\u00a0 This place felt so far from God.\u00a0 Before I could make up my mind, I saw one of my escorts waving at me in the distance.\u00a0 Turning around, I saw an officer close off the parking lot behind me.\u00a0 There was nowhere else to go.\u00a0 I asked if I could take a second to finish preparing the oil that I would later anoint Michael with.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t wait for a reply.\u00a0 I just finished.\u00a0 Grabbing the Bible and the oil, I walked through multiple huge doors that slammed behind me.\u00a0 There was no turning back.\u00a0 I was sick to my stomach.\u00a0 \u201cID!\u201d\u00a0 I was startled by the woman demanding my driver\u2019s license.\u00a0 Her tone made it clear that she hated me.\u00a0 Then again, they all acted just like her.\u00a0 When I got to the conference room, I immediately went to the bathroom.\u00a0 Dropping to my knees, I spewed out everything in my stomach.\u00a0 I guess you could say all the anxiety collectively balled its fist and punched me right in the gut.\u00a0 As I sat on the floor, I wondered how I was going to keep it together.\u00a0 Then, I heard a knock at the door.\u00a0 \u201cAre you ok?\u201d\u00a0 I did my best to answer convincingly.\u00a0 \u201cJust a second.\u201d\u00a0 Of course, I knew better.\u00a0 I jumped up, washed my hands and splashed my face with cold water.\u00a0 Be brave.<\/p>\n

The seats were just comfortable enough.\u00a0 Then, one of the state officials that I\u2019m closest to appeared.\u00a0 I guess you could say that he was an escort of sorts.\u00a0 More than that, we were friends.\u00a0 For over a year, he\u2019d been a source of encouragement.\u00a0 Theologically, we were on opposite ends of the spectrum.\u00a0 But on a heart level, we were very close.\u00a0 While I suspect that he\u2019s opposed to the death penalty, I don\u2019t know.\u00a0 But one thing I do know is that he\u2019s interested in making the life of this world a little gentler. \u00a0We began to talk.\u00a0 The conversation quickly turned to the horror to come.\u00a0 Ever so subtly, he began to inch toward what I was going to say.\u00a0 Finally, I let the cat out of the bag.\u00a0 I was planning on reading a modern rendition I\u2019d constructed of the beginning of John 8.\u00a0 In the narrative, an adulterous woman is brought before Jesus who the authorities planned to execute.\u00a0 Jesus\u2019 response continues to reverberate through time and space.\u00a0 \u201cYou who are without sin caste the first stone.\u201d\u00a0 In my rendition, Michael Smith is thrown before the executioners.\u00a0 Jesus looks at all who are gathered to execute Michael and says, \u201cYou who are without sin inject this man with poison.\u201d\u00a0 When I got done reading the rendition, my official friend quickly reacted, \u201cPlease, don\u2019t read that.\u201d\u00a0 I didn\u2019t figure he\u2019d approve.<\/p>\n

Before I knew it, the huge prison doors were closing behind me.\u00a0 Whatever light there was outside, was gone.\u00a0 I mumbled prayers to myself.\u00a0 I\u2019m not sure anyone heard me.\u00a0 The huge doors slammed behind me, one after the other after the other.\u00a0 It was as if each slam was one more ring of hell that I had to pass through to get to Michael.\u00a0 I kept going.\u00a0 Eyes peered through the peep holes of cells.\u00a0 Others imprisoned at Oklahoma State Penitentiary were used to this ritual.\u00a0 They knew exactly what was about to happen.\u00a0 Occasionally, I saw a fist.\u00a0 The symbol of resistance reminded me that I too had a job to keep up the resistance.\u00a0 While there was nothing that I could do to stop the execution, I could be a presence, a symbol that what was happening was wrong. \u00a0When the last door slammed, I heard my friend and prison escort say, \u201cI\u2019ll be right here when you get back.\u201d\u00a0 I was somewhat startled.\u00a0 I\u2019d almost forgotten he was there.\u00a0 When you walk through pain, it\u2019s hard to remember that you are not alone. \u00a0I climbed the large steel steps.\u00a0 Looking down through the grates beneath my feet, I could see the floor grow further and further away.\u00a0 When I arrived at the top, I noticed a big group of prison officials. Quickly, I realized that this was the team whose job it was to strap Michael down to the gurney.\u00a0 When they saw me, they scattered.\u00a0 There is a fear that pervades everyone that is involved in these executions that what they do might reach the sun.\u00a0 I guess there is a fear that I might make that happen quicker than they desired.\u00a0 When they pulled back the curtain and brought me to the door of the execution chamber, I saw a familiar hooded face.\u00a0 In the execution chamber, there is someone who stands next to me whose job it is to drag me out if I do anything to remotely disruptive.\u00a0 This was the third time the same hooded face had escorted me into the chamber in Oklahoma.\u00a0 When I remarked that he looked like a ninja, or the same as he did when I saw him last time, he immediately slammed down any small talk.\u00a0 \u201cYou are going to\u2026\u201d \u00a0Cowards that live behind masks don\u2019t have the strength for real human interaction.\u00a0 The words he uttered next were drowned out by my fear of what was behind those doors.\u00a0 \u201cDo you have any questions?\u201d\u00a0 I knew that if I had any questions, I\u2019d ask the officials in the room.\u00a0 Ultimately though, I was struggling with a soul question, \u201cWhat are you going to do to resist the evil behind that door?\u201d\u00a0 Rightfully, Michael expected more from me than just to stand there mumbling meaningless words.\u00a0 He expected me to be something\u2026a prophet that he knew would proclaim that what was happening to him was wrong.\u00a0 \u201cYou\u2019ve got to stand strong for me, Jeff!\u201d\u00a0 With multiple responsive knocks, the door opened.\u00a0 Questions would now become answers whether I liked it or not.<\/p>\n

Noises pulled me back.\u00a0 The door opened.\u00a0 I wasn\u2019t prepared.\u00a0 Who would be?\u00a0 Isn\u2019t murder always unexpected?\u00a0 Even when it\u2019s scheduled?\u00a0 Humanity shouldn\u2019t feel so confident in trading in life and death.\u00a0 But there we were.\u00a0 I was part of a theatrical presentation.\u00a0 I was a character.\u00a0 I was to play a part.\u00a0 Something pushed me through.\u00a0 The director of the execution stood in my way.\u00a0 Michael was right behind him.\u00a0 It was as if the director had to assert his power over the process one more time before letting me comfort the person that he was about to kill.\u00a0 Words slowly spewed out of his mouth.\u00a0 I don\u2019t know why he kept talking.\u00a0 I knew the parameters.\u00a0 I knew what I could and couldn\u2019t do.\u00a0 I knew that I needed to ask him before I did anything.\u00a0 The more he talked to me the more I felt like I was simply part of his production.\u00a0 When he finally got out of the way, I quickly moved to Michael\u2019s side.\u00a0 The first thing he asked me was beyond clear, \u201cDid the attorneys get the appeal filed?\u201d\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know.\u00a0 But what I did know was that they weren\u2019t even going to consider it until we showed up in mass the night before.\u00a0 \u201cWe pushed them in every possible way that we knew how.\u201d\u00a0 Michael made it plain.\u00a0 \u201cThey ended up being like all the rest of them\u2026just rats holding out for that paycheck.\u201d\u00a0 I didn\u2019t know what to say.\u00a0 I sure as hell wasn\u2019t going to sit there and apologize for them.\u00a0 Most of his lawyers were, are and always will be, pieces of shit.\u00a0 Instead of continuing down the path of past and present shit, I said the most powerful words I could think of, \u201cI love you very much brother.\u201d\u00a0 Michael started to cry.\u00a0 Tears gently streamed down the left side of his face.\u00a0 We were there.\u00a0 All of each of us was there.<\/p>\n

The anointing oil had exploded in my pocket.\u00a0 It was because of the cheap plastic container I had to carry it in.\u00a0 Everything was so heavy, I hadn\u2019t noticed.\u00a0 Now, I was very aware that my thigh was now all oiled up.\u00a0 I got as much of it in my hand as possible.\u00a0 As I leaned over, I whispered in Michael\u2019s ear, \u201cGod lived for you.\u00a0 God died for you.\u00a0 God rose again for you.\u00a0 God loves you more than anyone or anything ever can or will.\u00a0 In this hour of peril, know that God is going to see you through.\u00a0 God will be waiting on the other side with arms wide open.\u00a0 Know that these words are true as you feel this oil on your forehead.\u00a0 I bless you my dear friend and brother in the name of God, who is your creator, redeemer and sustainer.\u00a0 Amen.\u201d\u00a0 The oil went on thick.\u00a0 Streams of it went down both sides of his head. \u00a0Light reflected off of every contour of skin.\u00a0 The smell was powerful and filled the room.\u00a0 I guess I hoped it would reach a few other hearts in the room too, but I wasn\u2019t holding out hope.\u00a0 Execution chambers can make even the most faithful believers struggle for hope.\u00a0 Before I backed away, I told Michael, \u201cGod loves you.\u00a0 You are about to experience love forever.\u00a0 Don\u2019t forget to hold the gate open.\u201d\u00a0 In typical Michael-speak, he replied through the tears, \u201cI got you bro.\u201d\u00a0 I put the oily plastic container back in my pocket.<\/p>\n

Stepping back, I placed my hand on Michael\u2019s ankle and began to read.\u00a0 Psalm 23.\u00a0 \u201cEven though we are walking through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil.\u201d\u00a0 John 8:1-11.\u00a0 \u201cLet you who are without sin cast the first stone.\u201d\u00a0 John 14:1-4.\u00a0 \u201cDo not let your heart be troubled.\u00a0 Michael believe in God, believe also in Christ.\u201d\u00a0 I read it all over and over again.\u00a0 Everything disappeared.\u00a0 It was me and him.\u00a0 This wasn\u2019t his first time hearing these words.\u00a0 I could see him whispering them.\u00a0 For Michael, these were no longer just words, they were a path to something beyond the horror.\u00a0 Right before the execution commenced, he made me promise to tell his mom and brothers that he loved them.\u00a0 While he thought they might be there, he wasn\u2019t sure.\u00a0 I was.\u00a0 They\u2019d already made it clear they weren\u2019t going to be there.\u00a0 But I simply acquiesced to everything he said at that point.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t want his last words to be ones of disagreement with me.\u00a0 In the midst of it all, he kept going back and forth about whether he was going to make the last words he\u2019d planned.\u00a0 The attorneys had failed him so bad, but he didn\u2019t want to go out with that being the last thing that he said.\u00a0 \u201cFuck them.\u201d\u00a0 While I didn\u2019t know what those words meant, I knew they meant something.<\/p>\n

Curtains are a means of passage.\u00a0 The movements start the show.\u00a0 The movements end the show.\u00a0 When the curtains move, you move or you\u2019re moved to leave.\u00a0 There was no turning back now.\u00a0 The curtains controlled my reality.\u00a0 The curtains controlled me.\u00a0 While I did my best to keep my eyes on Michael, I couldn\u2019t help but see Attorney General Gentner Drummond.\u00a0 He was front and center.\u00a0 While I don\u2019t know if he was proud of what was happening, I do know that he wanted to be the star of the visitation gallery.\u00a0 Maybe a better way of saying it is that he was seated in a place where he couldn\u2019t be missed.\u00a0 Just like always.\u00a0 On some level, I can respect someone who doesn\u2019t run and hide from the terror they cause.\u00a0 But on the other hand, Drummond was now unquestionably the self-appointed Butcher of McAlester, how can anyone respect that?\u00a0 Michael wanted to make him feel it.\u00a0 So, did I.\u00a0 I\u2019d already told Michael exactly where he would be.\u00a0 When the curtains were raised, I looked directly into Drummond\u2019s eyes.\u00a0 I stared so hard that he became visibly uncomfortable.\u00a0 I wanted him to be as uncomfortable as possible.\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t you dare close your eyes.\u201d\u00a0 I wanted him to have to turn his eyes back at Michael.\u00a0 He did.\u00a0 The tears had never stopped.\u00a0 Can you imagine looking directly into the eyes of someone that you put on that gurney?\u00a0 What do you think of in those last moments?\u00a0 I hope that he saw the hell that he helped wrought.\u00a0 I hope that Michael\u2019s face terrorizes him every night.\u00a0 Curtains can reveal so much about the hearts of humans.<\/p>\n

When the death warrant was read, I was reminded of all of the horrors that Michael participated in.\u00a0 While I\u2019d been unable to sort it all completely out, he\u2019d made very clear that he\u2019d done a tremendous amount of things that he wasn\u2019t proud of.\u00a0 You can\u2019t help but be torn into the past in moments like this.\u00a0 Pain is so visceral.\u00a0 Yet, it is the past that reminds you why the present is so wrong.\u00a0 Murder was wrong then.\u00a0 Murder is wrong now.\u00a0 I noticed that the execution director\u2019s hands were shaking.\u00a0 In the gallery, I noticed that the reporter who\u2019d regularly trashed Michael and his fierce complaints about his attorneys.\u00a0 Yet another sack of shit.\u00a0 Executions bring all sorts of demons together.\u00a0 Michael still had small tears streaming down the left side of his face. \u00a0I felt so connected to those tears.\u00a0 I prayed that they would offer some sort of redemption.\u00a0 When the time came for his final statement, I\u2019d be untruthful if I didn\u2019t say that I desired for him to bash everyone who\u2019d treated him so bad.\u00a0 I wanted him to let people know that the horrors they\u2019d committed hadn\u2019t gone unnoticed.\u00a0 But Michael decided differently.\u00a0 When the execution director asked, Michael simply replied, \u201cNah, I\u2019m good.\u201d\u00a0 I thought I saw a smirk.\u00a0 In the nonchalant way he answered, I realized that he\u2019d won.<\/p>\n

Poison flowed.\u00a0 One of the cruel tricks of those final moments is that you don\u2019t know what\u2019s happening until it happens.\u00a0 In fact, you have no idea when the condemned will go unconscious until they\u2019re unconscious.\u00a0 Whatever you need to say, you better say it quick.\u00a0 I quickly added that I loved him.\u00a0 \u201cI love you too, bro.\u201d\u00a0 Tears still formed and fell.\u00a0 Michael closed his eyes.\u00a0 I told him that I was there.\u00a0 He nodded his head.\u00a0 Psalm 23.\u00a0 \u201cEven though we are walking through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil.\u201d\u00a0 John 8:1-11.\u00a0 \u201cLet you who are without sin cast the first stone.\u201d\u00a0 John 14:1-4. \u00a0\u201cDo not let your heart be troubled.\u00a0 Michael believe in God, believe also in Christ.\u201d\u00a0 I jumped around and tried to read as much as I could.\u00a0 Repeatedly, I reminded him, \u201cGod loves you, Michael.\u201d\u00a0 It didn\u2019t matter what I said, he never came back.<\/p>\n

Michael closed his eyes and chose when he would leave.\u00a0 I\u2019d never seen anything like it.\u00a0 In the midst of an execution, Michael chose his own time.\u00a0 As his eyes watered, mine did too.\u00a0 I removed my glasses.\u00a0 While still reminding him of God\u2019s love, I lifted a fist.\u00a0 I told him that we would stand together in resistance until the very end.\u00a0 When Michael asked how he would know that we were resisting together, I told him that I would raise my fist.\u00a0 I kept it up until my arm felt like it was going to fall off.\u00a0 Michael snored and gargled for much longer than I expected him to.\u00a0 He sounded like he was slowly being drowned.\u00a0 It was if he was being pulled underwater by his ankles until he was dead. \u00a0I\u2019d heard the death pangs before.\u00a0 Michael\u2019s were very loud and clear.<\/p>\n

Witnesses leaned toward the glass.\u00a0 I wondered if they were proud of themselves.\u00a0 So many people sitting in that room could have stopped all of it.\u00a0 Their eyes got bigger and bigger.\u00a0 I guess they were just enjoying the spectacle of it all.\u00a0 I still had my fist up.\u00a0 Movement slowed.\u00a0 Noises stopped.\u00a0 The hooded ninja pulled me back.\u00a0 I\u2019d almost forgotten that he was there.\u00a0 Somehow though, the touch of his hand on my arm brought me back to reality.\u00a0 Michael was leaving and I was to remain.\u00a0 The doctor shook Michael to make sure that he was completely unconscious.\u00a0 I stepped forward to read John 8:1-11 as many times as I possibly could. \u00a0\u201cLet you who are without sin cast the first stone.\u201d\u00a0 \u201cLet you who are without sin cast the first stone.\u201d\u00a0 \u201cLet you who are without sin cast the first stone.\u201d\u00a0 The ceiling opened.\u00a0 In the distance, I could see all of the other guys I\u2019d accompanied to their executions before gathering around Michael.\u00a0 A great cloud of witnesses of hope.\u00a0 Michael was not alone in his journey to God.\u00a0 No matter whether evil prevailed for a moment, love was always going to win in the end.\u00a0 I saw it.<\/p>\n

I saw one small tear drop down the side of Michael\u2019s face.\u00a0 I knew he was gone.\u00a0 I was terrified.\u00a0 Too much was happening all at once.\u00a0 It was as if I felt like the drying of that tear could be the end of our relationship.\u00a0 We all fear endings.\u00a0 Before the tear dried up, I saw it glimmer.\u00a0 My attention was directed back to the opening in the ceiling.\u00a0 \u201cWe got him.\u201d\u00a0 \u201cBehold, I am making all things right.\u201d\u00a0 Then, I was back.\u00a0 Staring at the bright white light above the execution gurney.\u00a0 Had it been real?\u00a0 I didn\u2019t have time to think about it.\u00a0 The director of the department came out to announce that the execution was over.\u00a0 Of course, he called it a success.<\/p>\n

As the body of Michael Smith grew cold, I once more gave his soul to God.\u00a0 I saw the tear glimmer once more.\u00a0 I thought one more time about what I saw.\u00a0 Then, it was gone.\u00a0 It was time to go.<\/p>\n

I ran out.\u00a0 Not literally of course.\u00a0 I was just ready to go.\u00a0 I hugged the department official to thank him for not leaving me alone.\u00a0 Even though our beliefs were different, I knew that he cared.\u00a0 The doors kept slamming.\u00a0 As far as I was concerned, let them slam.\u00a0 In fact, I felt like they couldn\u2019t slam fast enough.\u00a0 When the last doors finally slammed, the light was overwhelming.\u00a0 I did my best to recount everything that happened.\u00a0 I still don\u2019t know if anybody heard me.<\/p>\n

I drove home alone.\u00a0 In fact, I was more than alone.<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

*Earlier today, I released all of my writings on the April 4, 2024 execution of my friend Michael Smith in Oklahoma.\u00a0 Below is the chapter that I wrote about Smith\u2019s execution.\u00a0 The entire book \u201cUnderrepresented: Michael Smith, Oklahoma & the Death Penalty\u201d is available for purchase here.\u00a0 \u00a0 Amidst horror, descriptions fail.\u00a0 Towering walls on […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2509,"featured_media":11859,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,10],"tags":[829,6321,2521],"class_list":["post-11856","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-freshwritings","category-thoughts","tag-death-penalty","tag-michael-smith","tag-oklahoma"],"yoast_head":"\nThe Execution of Michael Smith: A Full Account from Oklahoma<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"*Earlier today, I released all of my writings 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Dr. Jeff Hood is a Catholic priest (Old Catholic), theologian, and nationally recognized activist based in North Little Rock, Arkansas. A spiritual advisor to death row inmates across the country, Dr. Hood has accompanied more people to their executions than any other advisor in the U.S., including the first-ever nitrogen hypoxia execution in 2024. His work sits at the intersection of justice, radical compassion, and public theology. Dr. Hood holds advanced degrees from Auburn, Emory, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, University of Alabama, Creighton, and Brite Divinity School, among others. He also earned a PhD in metaphysical theology and founded The New Theology School, where he serves as Dean and Professor of Prophetic Theology. Author of over 100 books\u2014including the award-winning The Courage to Be Queer\u2014Dr. Hood\u2019s writings and activism have been featured in The New York Times, Rolling Stone, NPR, CNN, and more. A frequent collaborator with men on death row, he sees theology as a shared, liberative act. Dr. Hood has served on the leadership teams of organizations like the Texas Coalition to Abolish the Death Penalty and the Fellowship of Reconciliation. His activism has earned multiple awards, including recognition from PFLAG and the Next Generation Action Network. On July 7, 2016, Dr. Hood led the Dallas protest against police brutality that ended in tragedy. His actions that night saved lives, and his story is now archived in the Dallas Public Library. A father of five, husband to Emily, and friend to the incarcerated, Dr. Hood rejects institutionalism in favor of a theology rooted in people, presence, and prophetic witness.","url":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/author\/jeff-hood\/"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11856","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2509"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11856"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11856\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/11859"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11856"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11856"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/jeffhood\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11856"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}