That brings me to the recently departed Stanley Williams, better known as Tookie. Speaking of which, I, for one, resent that the media -- as if beholden to his defense team -- kept calling this stone-cold killer Tookie, as if he were some child’s teddy bear.
Stanley Williams used a shot gun to blow the heads off four people. That’s some teddy bear.
I knew that Williams was being held up as a reformed character because he supposedly used his influence to steer young people away from gangs. Considering the escalating number of gang-related murders, it seems that Mr. Williams, who was the founding father of the Crips, was a lot better at getting kids into gangs than out of them.
Although, intellectually, I can grasp the point of view of those morally opposed to capital punishment, emotionally I am unable to fathom how they can congregate outside prisons and hold candlelight vigils for mass murderers. Wouldn’t their time be better spent visiting the burial sites of the victims, and leaving flowers instead of candle wax behind?
There are those who claim that Williams, who never even voiced remorse for his crimes, had found redemption behind bars. They point out that he had even written a children’s book. Never having had occasion to read it, it took Michael Medved to point out that Williams had dedicated it to Nelson Mandela. To Nelson Mandela, that is, along with a slew of cop killers!
Some of his fans argue that Williams, having spent over a quarter of a century in prison, was a totally different person than the guy who’d been convicted. Well, it’s true that he hadn’t shot-gunned anybody to death in all that time. But I happen to believe it’s far more relevant that his victims had been deprived of a cumulative hundred years of life by this brute, and that doesn’t even begin to approach what their friends and families lost.
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