MILWAUKEE — The debate over reinstatement of the death penalty in Wisconsin after 153 years without it can be heated and passionate. Especially for Juan Melendez. He sat on death row in Florida for 17 years, eight months and one day. And he was innocent.
“Imagine yourself being arrested for first degree murder and armed robbery and they’re seeking the death penalty,” Melendez, 55, told a crowd at Marquette University Oct. 5. “You don’t speak the language. And at that time, if I did speak the language, I only knew curse words.”
Born in Brooklyn, NY, but raised in Puerto Rico, Melendez dropped out of school after ninth grade, a decision he calls his worst mistake. He moved to the United States at 18 and began work in Delaware as a migrant worker, picking fruit.
“I migrated to the United States to make a better life,” he said. “I was in search of the American dream, instead, unfortunately, I lived the American nightmare.”
For a short time, Melendez worked picking citrus fruit in Florida. In February 1984, a frost hit the fruit trees and he was out of work. Later that year, he had a new fruit-picking job in Pennsylvania. He recounts May 2, 1984 as clearly as if it were last week.
“It was a beautiful day,” he began. “I was eating my lunch under an apple tree and the FBI pulled up and pointed guns at all of us. They called my name. They asked me to show them if I had a missing tooth and I do. They asked if I had a tattoo on my left arm, and I do. They said, ‘This is the guy.’”
Handcuffed, read his Miranda Rights and taken to a federal prison, Melendez was a scared 31-year old.
Melendez explained that, during the trial, a police informant said Melendez confessed to the crime. There was no physical evidence against him. Someone he thought was a friend testified against Melendez as part of his own plea bargain. Melendez was found guilty and sentenced to death by electrocution.
“When they sentenced me to death, my heart got full of hate,” he said. “I was very scared to die for a crime I did not commit.”
He began his almost two decade stint on death row Nov. 2, 1984.
The crowd squirmed as Melendez recounted the living conditions on death row. Rats crawled on him while he tried to sleep. When his breakfast tray was slid under the bars, the cockroaches often got to it before he did. He had no idea when he would be killed. He saw other prisoners being led away from their cells. The lights in the prison would flicker and Melendez knew they had been killed in the electric chair.
In time, other prisoners befriended Melendez and knew he spoke no English, but needed to learn.
“These prisoners, the worst of the worst, the most despised in the nation, taught this Puerto Rican how to read, how to write and how to speak English,” he said.
Melendez felt empowered with his new education, but depression and thoughts of suicide haunted him while in prison.
“Every time I got depressed, our creator, God, would send me a beautiful dream,” he said. “I put those dreams together that someday I would be free. God said, ‘When I say, you’ll be out. You just gotta trust me.’”
Melendez believes the death penalty hurts families on both sides of the ruling. His own mother said five rosaries each day and prayed to Our Lady of Guadalupe for a miracle.
“She knew a miracle would happen,” said Melendez.
During his time in prison, Melendez found his faith again and he said that gave him hope.
“The condemned man who don’t get something spiritual, they go crazy,” he explained. “Some become a Christian; that’s what I did. I went back to my roots. My mom had taught me about the Virgin Mary and Jesus. She’s Catholic to the bones.”
Melendez found that during his time on death row, he had faith.
“I had a lot of support of my family,” he said. “I had a lot of ups and downs. What I did was put everything in God’s hands.”
After several failed appeals, Melendez was offered one last try. His former defense lawyer had become a judge since his last appeal, so Melendez was issued a new lawyer, now a judge, Barbara Fletcher.
“I owe her my life,” he said solemnly.
Fletcher found a recorded confession in Melendez’s file from his original defense lawyer. The confession tape was not made by Melendez; it was made by the actual killer. It was never entered as evidence in the original trial, or in the appeals. The killer had died two years after Melendez began serving his sentence.
“The case was dismissed and that’s why I’m here, thank God, talking to all of you,” he told the crowd.
When he was told of his upcoming release, he was “in a state of shock, but smiling. I’m still smiling today.”
Melendez’s friends on death row told him not to forget about them and they applauded as he was led away from his cell.
“Here they were, the worst of the worst … (these) monsters taught this Puerto Rican how to write, read and speak English. I would have never been able to reply to letters I received from some of you, read law, or write without them,” he said.
When he was released from prison, he received a pair of pants, a T-shirt and $100. He never received an apology, but his “American nightmare” was over.
“I pray in my lifetime I can see the death penalty abolished,” he said. “The problem with the death penalty is that people don’t have all the facts. People need to know it’s cruel, racist, it doesn’t deter crime and it costs too much. Probably the most important, it can kill innocent people and it already has.”
According to Melendez, 122 prisoners in this country have been released from death row with evidence of their innocence since 1973.
“Please get involved in this issue,” he told the group. “Wisconsin doesn’t need the death penalty. We’re doing good without it.”
In an interview after the speech, Melendez cited Pope John Paul II’s decision to speak out against the death penalty, and said he thought it was a moral obligation for Catholics to oppose the death penalty, saying, “there are plenty of other alternatives to capital punishment, like life in prison.”
The death penalty referendum will be on the Nov. 7 ballot in Wisconsin. The Wisconsin bishops released a letter against the death penalty, it can be found here.
— Matthew Ryno contributed to this story. |
