[NYTr] Kenneth Foster, Off Death Row, Talks about His Ordeal & Future Hopes

[All the News That Doesn't Fit]

AP - Nov 12, 2007
http://hosted.ap.org/dynamic/stories/S/SPARED_FROM_DEATH?SITE=MAFIT&SECTION=HOME&TEMPLATE=DEFAULT

Kenneth Foster, Off Death Row, Talks about His Ordeal & Future Hopes

Texas Inmate Spared Hours Before Death

By MICHAEL GRACZYK
Associated Press Writer

 BEEVILLE, Texas (AP) -- Kenneth Foster, the only condemned Texas
inmate to win a commutation from Gov. Rick Perry without the prodding
of a court, believes other miracles may be headed his way.

"I don't feel I've come this far to stop here," Foster said from the
Texas Department of Criminal Justice McConnell Unit, about 100 miles
south of San Antonio. "I think something more is going to happen... I
don't know where it's going to come from, but I do believe it's going
to happen."

The 31-year-old Foster's new sentence, along with the time he's already
been imprisoned, mean he won't be eligible for parole until 2036.

But at least he's alive.

He was in his cell on death row, expecting the parole board to answer
his plea for mercy two days before his Aug. 30 scheduled execution for
being present at a fatal shooting in San Antonio. Foster claimed he was
in the car when a robbery turned deadly and had no idea his companions
intended to kill anyone.

His death sentence brought protests - and ultimately the state's
decision to spare him - because he was condemned under the state's law
of parties, in which anyone involved in a crime is held equally
responsible regardless of his or her role.

When his execution was to be held in 24 hours, prison officials and a
squad of guards showed up outside his death row cell.

"They asked me to come out," he recalled. "I didn't know what was going
on. As I was coming out, it was like a frenzy out there.

"I laid down on the ground. I told them I'm not going anywhere until
you tell me where we're going. I was supposed to have my last visits
the next day."

Concerned about protests, prison officials altered their usual schedule
and planned to take him early to the death chamber in Huntsville, 45
miles away. He'd get his final visits with relatives there, they told
him.

"I was pretty upset," Foster said. "I couldn't say I trusted their
word. I was calling them terrorists. They were terrorizing me."

He was driven to the Huntsville Unit in a four-vehicle caravan.

"It's real dark," he said of the holding cell just outside the death
chamber. "It's like a catacomb. It's like a dungeon, almost
medieval-like."

The morning of his scheduled execution, he was permitted a visit with
his Dutch wife and an attorney.

His father unexpectedly walked in just before noon.

"He goes: '6-1.' He was ecstatic, crying," Foster said. That was the
parole board vote for commutation.

It "might be your lucky day," a prison official said.

Then the warden walked up, a cell phone in his ear, and told Foster his
sentence was being commuted.

"I said: 'Right now?' He said: 'Right now.'

"I dropped and said a prayer," Foster said. "I was thinking about
giving thanks."

He was whisked back to death row, where people offered congratulations.

"They got me out of there quick," he said. "And I was happy to go, too."

Foster and a companion, Mauriceo Brown, were tried for the Aug. 15,
1996, shooting of Michael LaHood on the driveway of LaHood's home in
San Antonio. Foster insisted he was 80 feet away in a car, had no idea
Brown was going to kill LaHood and didn't participate in the shooting.

A Bexar County jury convicted Foster and Brown of capital murder and
sentenced both to death. Brown was executed last year.

Perry, a staunch capital punishment supporter, said the commutation was
the "right and just decision" in this case. He said he was troubled
that the men had been tried together.

More than 17,000 messages of support for Foster were sent to the
governor and the parole board.

"How can 17,285 people be stupid?" Foster asked. "How could all those
people be wrong?"

Twelve messages called for his execution, and LaHood's relatives
accused Perry of bowing to political pressure.

He said he planned to write Perry and the parole board thank-you
letters but his typewriter broke.

"I appreciate it," Foster said of Perry's decision. "He did a good
thing."

Life is dramatically different. On death row, inmates are in near total
isolation, even spending their daily hour of recreation by themselves.
Meals are served in the cells.

Now he gets some meals in a prison day room.

"Even the food is better," he said, reveling over the butter on his
breakfast tray. "I hadn't seen butter for years."

Despite the publicity over his case, he said only a few inmates and
officers were aware of his past.

"I'm not so talkative," he said. "It's a positive thing because I like
to stay out of the mix of things."

But when asked about his history, he'll volunteer: "I just got off
death row."

"That's kind of a conversation starter," he laughed.

© 2007 The Associated Press.