When the stakes are literally life and death

Disagreements over the death penalty are sharp. A case in Oklahoma reveals just how high the stakes feel to people on all sides of the issue. At heart, they're all grappling with what constitutes justice.

In 25 years as a journalist, I've hardly ever had people cry during interviews.

That was before I reported this week's cover story about how some Oklahomans are reevaluating the death penalty. During my trip to the Sooner State, I interviewed three people who struggled to fight back tears. Reader, my eyes welled up, too.

In keeping with the Monitor's impartial journalism, this article doesn’t take a stance on the death penalty. But what I have striven to capture is just how high the stakes feel to Oklahomans on all sides of the issue – and why. At heart, they're all grappling with what constitutes justice. They're seeking a system that provides them a sense of inner peace and fairness. Something that they can trust. 

What struck me most was how many individuals in this story have had to confront their prior positions on the death penalty. Kevin McDugle, for instance, has always ostensibly favored capital punishment. But when the Republican lawmaker heard about the case of Richard Glossip, he had to fundamentally rethink his position. He believes that this person on death row is innocent. And he now favors a moratorium on the death penalty.

For others, the issue felt distant, something that didn't necessarily apply to their lives. 

Oklahoma City entrepreneur Craig Blankenship told me, "I didn't think a whole lot about it." That was before his former daughter-in-law was murdered in such a gruesome manner that it made global headlines.

Disagreements on the issue are sharp. Jennifer Harmon, a victims' rights advocate from Tulsa, abhors the efforts of Mr. McDugle and others to free Mr. Glossip. She argues that he's guilty. And she's upset that media coverage can make people on death row better known than people who were murdered. 

But people don't always fit neatly into categories on divisive issues. When Oklahoma held a referendum to enshrine the state’s right to impose capital punishment, Ms. Harmon voted against it. (Read the story to find out why.)

At the same time, many of those who ardently oppose the death penalty can empathize with why a majority of Oklahomans still favor it.

"If someone brutally murdered one of my daughters, I would want that person's death," acknowledged Brett Farley, executive director of the Catholic Conference of Oklahoma, who argues that a consistent pro-life position includes opposing the death penalty. "But I would have to admit in my heart of hearts that my motivation is purely retribution, for I would probably be outside of myself."

There's one concept of justice that almost everyone I spoke with brought up: the possibility of grace through genuine atonement. 

"Justice is so much bigger than, 'We had the trial. He's guilty. Here's his sentence,'" says Ms. Harmon, who has been a spiritual counselor for people in prison. "Something happens by owning what they've done. ... They avail themselves to some kind of transformation."