It was horrific - kidnappings, sexual assaults, and killings in Washington and St. Tammany Parishes, all committed in the matter of one dreadful week in 1980, by the same two perpetrators. That's where we left off last week.
The first book published in 1993, relating to these events, was "Dead Man Walking" by Sister Helen Prejean, an imminent opponent of the death penalty. The New Orleans nun brought opposition to the death penalty to the forefront in our country with this very book, an acclaimed number one bestseller which led to the famous film, in addition to other performances. Having recently reread Sister Prejean's book in order to refresh my memory, I can say with certitude that it was written from the heart, that of a compassionate, devout Catholic nun.
Brilliantly written, every word of it is genuine. From the outset, it appeared to me that Sister Prejean's involvement in the case against Robert Willie, and others like it, was somewhat of a surprise at least initially, even to her. Though I've not spoken with Sister Prejean (a deluge earlier this year sent me scrambling for home, before my best chance at a book festival), it did not seem that she had designs on becoming a regular visitor - a spiritual advisor to convicted killers - on death row at the Louisiana State Penitentiary.
Better known as Angola, the infamous state prison sits on 18,000 acres about twenty-two miles northwest of St. Francisville. It is approximately 100 miles, to the west and slightly north, from Franklinton. Spending many a weekend in West Feliciana with my husband Rodney, I have some familiarity with the maximum-security prison. When some years ago I was offered the opportunity to visit inside Angola, bordered by the Mississippi River and the Tunica Hills, I promptly declined.
It is apparent to the reader of "Dead Man Walking" (my copy was entitled "Dead Man Walking The Eyewitness Account of the Death Penalty That Sparked a National Debate") that Sister Prejean has the innate ability to influence. Quite convincing with her sincerity in print, she got to me, stirring my interest in the death penalty debate and forcing me to consider both points of view. As a retired lawyer, I found my position, as a proponent of capital punishment, slipping as I reread her book. But I caught myself. It is a sensitive subject, that one - life or death.
Certainly, Sister Prejean acknowledged the victims, but it nagged at me that "Dead Man Walking," to me, seemed to primarily focus on the convicted killers who are essential to the cause - those sentenced to die in the electric chair, and the humanity surrounding them. And serial killer Robert Lee Willie was a central figure in her book. But I can't forget or suppress the other side, which is my focus, the lives destroyed or altered by no choice of their own - the victims, dead or alive, and their families.
And that point brought me to a poignant read, "Forgiving the Dead Man Walking" courageously written by Debbie Morris, a wife, mother, and hero that I've never had the official honor to meet, and Gregg Lewis. Morris is Debbie Cuevas's married name. Debbie Cuevas Morris is a survivor of Robert Willie and his accomplice Joe Vaccaro. While Sister Prejean was an eyewitness on Death Row, Morris gave a firsthand account of the vicious trail that landed Willie there. She was an eyewitness to the horror that came before.
I would be remiss if I failed to mention that Morris is the niece of Penny McWilliams Doster, a dear friend of my late mother's. This information I gathered from Debbie Morris's book. Morris's mother was a Pennington from Madisonville, and Morris later worked at her aunt's lovely shop, The Wish List, which in the Pine Tree Plaza on Highway 22 in Mandeville was a place my mother and I frequented. I subsequently realized that I may have met her without knowing.
Morris was, and is, a survivor and hero. Kidnapped with her boyfriend Mark Brewster, by the criminals at the Madisonville riverfront on May 31, 1980, Cuevas (I refer to her as Cuevas, her maiden name, when describing what transpired) was, and is, bravery personified. It was German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche who once said, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." It's as if he read Morris's book.
At sixteen years of age, she figured out, over a grueling thirty hours, how to survive. And survive she did. Engaging her captors and figuring out exactly what to say, she outsmarted Willie and Vaccaro. Veteran killers, they had absolutely nothing to lose. From the trunk of her boyfriend's car, Cuevas heard the gunshots when her captors shot her boyfriend Brewster in the back of the head after tying him to a tree in the woods in Baldwin County, Alabama. How hopeless the situation must have seemed, yet Cuevas persevered, refusing to give up. Summoning courage, she survived not only a trip to Fricke's Cave, where Willie and Vaccaro had killed Faith Hathaway just days prior, but also physical assaults. Yet Cuevas had the will to live.
She not only masterminded her own release - Willie and Vaccaro returned her to Madisonville not far from where they kidnapped her - but she sagely led authorities back to Brewster in the Alabama woods where he had been left to die. He miraculously survived. Cuevas's name was initially withheld from the media as she was a minor. But it was that same sixteen-year-old who identified Willie and Vaccaro as the couple's captors and took investigators back to Fricke's Cave where Faith Hathaway's body would soon be found. And she made the case in court against Willie and Vaccaro. Through her own strength, Cuevas lived to tell. And for lack of a better description, she nailed them.
Stay tuned for next week's conclusion of this series which focuses on the book "Victims of Dead Man Walking" by Washington Parish native Michael L. Varnado and lawyer D. P. Smith.
