Transcript
Dan Kennedy (0:00)
As we approach the end of the year, I'm thinking about the next. Next year is the year I finally make my Spanish better than my 9 year olds. Rosetta Stone is the most trusted language learning program available on desktop or as an app, and it truly immerses you in the language that you want to learn. I can't wait to use Rosetta Stone and finally speak better than my 9 year old who's been learning Spanish in his own way. Rosetta Stone is the trusted expert for 30 years. With millions of users and 25 languages offered spoken Spanish, French, Italian, German, Korean, I could go on fast language acquisition. Rosetta Stone immerses you in many ways. There are no English translations, so you can really learn to speak, listen and think in that language. Start the new year off with a resolution you can reach today. The Moth listeners can take advantage of this Rosetta Stones lifetime membership for 50% off visit rosettastone.com moth that's 50% off. Unlimited access to 25 language courses for the rest of your Life. Redeem your 50% off@RosettaStone.com Moth Today.
Jay Ellison (1:08)
Welcome to the Moth Podcast. I'm Dan Kennedy. Hey. Join us in Los Angeles on Wednesday, December 5th when KCRW presents the Moth main stage at the Avalon Hollywood. For ticketing information and for a list of all of our upcoming tour stops, Visit our site themoth.org I'm Jay Ellison up in the studio where we produce the Moth Radio Hour here in Woods Hole, Massachusetts. Great new shows are ready for the fall, so check with your public radio station to find out when they're airing. Thanks. This week's story by Damien Echols was told live at the Moth in New York City this summer. The theme of the night was eyewitness stories from the front. Here's Dana.
Damien Echols (2:04)
When I first arrived on death row, the guards decided they were going to welcome me to the neighborhood. So they took me to the part of the prison they call the Hole. It's a very small, very dark, filthy part of the prison that's in complete isolation. And for the next 18 days they beat the hell out of me. They used to come in at about 12 o'clock, 1 o'clock in the morning, and they would chain me to the bars of the cell and beat me with nightsticks. They beat me so bad at one point that I started to piss blood. And I still wake up at night sometimes now, dreaming that I'm pissing blood again. They starved me. They tortured me. Eventually, word of what they were doing started to leak out into the rest of the prison, other prisoners started to hear about it. So they went to a deacon from the Catholic church who used to come to the prison to bring Catholic inmates communion, and they told them what was going on. And he went to the warden's office and he told the warden, I know what you're doing to this guy. I know you're killing him. And if it doesn't stop, I'm going to go public. So that night, they took me out of the hole and put me back in a regular prison cell. The other prisoners told me later that they had expected to see me carried out in a body bag any day. And I think the only reason they didn't murder me is because they realized they were being watched. When I was a kid, my family was incredibly poor, beyond dirt poor. When we did finally move into a trailer park with running water and electricity, we thought we were really moving up in the world. I used to take refuge in books and music. It became like a sanctuary for me. It allowed me to escape the world I lived in for a little while. I'd read Stephen King novels over and over, listen to music like Iron Maiden. I started dressing in black all the time because it was like a security blanket for me. It made me feel a little safer in an unsafe and scary world. I didn't have many friends. In fact, my only real friend was this skinny blond kid with a mullet named Jason Baldwin. And Jason was with me the night I was arrested. It was me, Jason, my sister, and my girlfriend sitting in the house, in the living room, watching movies. Whenever the cops started beating on the door, hammering on it, when I opened the door, they were pointing guns at me. They swarmed into the house like ants. They stampeded over everything and pawed through every single possession my family owned. They put me and Jason in handcuffs, threw us into the backs of cop cars, and took us to jail. I spent all night in a cell about the size of a closet. I wasn't allowed to go to the bathroom or not given so much as a drink of water. Every so often, a cop would come in and ask me if I had anything to tell him or if I was ready to make my confession yet. This went on all night until the next day when we were given an arraignment hearing. At this hearing, the judge tells me that I'm being charged with three counts of capital murder, that I'm being accused of killing three children as part of a satanic sacrifice. He said someone had confessed, but he refused to read the confession in the courtroom. Instead, I was put in a broom closet somewhere in the back of the jail and given a transcript of this confession. I'm only 18 years old, and I'm in complete and absolute shock and trauma. I'm suffering from sleep deprivation. My life has just been destroyed. But even reading this thing, I could see that there was something wrong with it. It made no sense. It was like some sort of bizarre patchwork Frankenstein thing that they had stitched together. Turns out that they had picked up a mentally handicapped kid in our neighborhood and coerced him into making a confession. And then he was led to implicate Jason and I. Nothing in this confession made any sense whatsoever, but it didn't matter to him. I was put in a cell, and I kept thinking, surely someone's going to step in and put a stop to this. Surely someone is going to rectify this situation. They can't put you on trial and prove you've done something you haven't done. It seemed to me that science would say that's impossible. But they did. They took us to trial. And the evidence was things like the Stephen King novels that I read, the music I listened to, the clothes that I wore, and they found us guilty. I was sentenced to death not once, not twice, but three times. The whole time the judge is reading these dissonances, he's doing it in this really bored monotone voice, like it's just another day at the office for him. People have always asked me, later, what were you thinking? Or what were you feeling whenever he was sentencing you to die? And it's almost impossible to articulate if you've ever been beaten. A lot of times, you know, when you're punched in the head, you don't register pain. You see a bright flash of light, hear a loud noise, and you're completely disoriented, have no idea where you even are for a few minutes. That's what it was like when he was reading these death sentences. It was like being repeatedly punched in the head. They sent me to death row. I was in the cell for about a week before I noticed a shadow on the wall. It was from the man who had been executed that was in the cell. Before I got there, he had stood against the wall and traced around himself with a pencil really, really lightly, and then very subtly shaded it in. I mean, it was so subtle, I didn't even see it for about the first week. And then after I saw it, I couldn't unsee it. So I used to sleep on a dead man's mattress and stare at A dead man's shadow and live in the cell with ghosts. For years, they filed appeal after appeal on my behalf, all before the same judge who sentenced me to death. He denied them all. Even whenever new DNA evidence came in that excluded me and the other two guys from the crime scene, and instead pointed the finger at one of the victim's stepfathers and the man who was providing the stepfather with an alibi. The judge still said, this is not enough. Then we were allowed to appeal to the Arkansas Supreme Court. And by this time, awareness of what's going on, public interest in the case has been building. There's been documentaries, there's been books, there's been cases, countless newspaper articles and magazine stories and TV shows. So the Arkansas Supreme Court knows they're being watched. And in the end, that's the only thing they really care about, is winning the next election. So they ruled that all of this new evidence would be heard. And the prosecutors realized that meant there was going to be another trial. So a deal was hammered out. It's called an Alford plea. What an Alford plea means is that I plead guilty and I walk out of the courtroom and I can still publicly maintain my innocence, but then I can't sue the state. And people ask me what I was thinking about the day that I went into court, knowing that I could very well go home that day. And the truth is, I wasn't thinking anything. By that time, I was so tired and beat down that all I wanted to do was rest. I was dying. My health was deteriorating very rapidly. I was losing my eyesight. I knew I wasn't going to make it much longer. The prosecutor also said that one of the factors for him making this deal was the fact that the three of us together could have collectively sued the state for $60 million. I knew they could have had me stabbed to death for $50 any day of the week. Happens in prison all the time. So I knew if I didn't take that deal one way or another, I would never live to see the outside of those prison walls. So I took it. I've been out of prison now for a little over 10 months, and I live in terror every single day. I'm scared of everything all the time, but I'm trying to fight my way through it. I have to force myself to every day that I get up. And I know that I will, eventually I'll do it and I'll be free of it. Because if there's one thing that I learned from 18 years in prison, it was how to fight. Thank you.
