The Importance Of Doing Your Job Right
The prison warden sat at his desk reviewing some records when there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” He said with his rough gravely voice.
His secretary came in with a folder.
“We got a death warrant from the governor.” “I’ll take it.”
She walked over and handed him the folder. He took it and went back to what he was reading. She paused for a second. The warden sensing she was still there and looked up.
“Anything else?” “No sir,” she paused for a second, “Does it ever get to you?” “What?” “The executions?”
He looked up from the desk and made eye contact with her. He was a large man with a stern demeanor, even when he wasn’t mad he had the air of a man that shouldn’t be messed with. He looked at her with a piercing stare.
The secretary stood frozen, regretting she asked the question.
“It is what it is, I didn’t put them there, they did that.”
She was stunned by his seeming lack of compassion.
“It was their choices that got them arrested, they were arraigned, tried, and convicted. By the time this folder gets to my desk, there’s nothing I can do. I treat every inmate with dignity and do everything I can to make sure everything is in order.”
She stood there in stunned silence.
“Anything else?” “No sir.”
She quickly turned and exited the office.
He took the file and started to look it over, making sure everything was in order and nothing was overlooked.
He had been doing this job for 20 years and had been responsible for 13 executions, by now he had a solid system in place.
The next day the warden arrived to work a little earlier than usual to look over the file one more time. The executions didn’t bother him, but the thought of making a mistake and taking an innocent life was his biggest fear.
The prisoner had already been moved from his cell to the death house. His family would be arriving shortly to say their final goodbyes.
The warden spent the day in his office near the phone. At any point there could be a call from the governor or district attorney calling off the execution.
After the prisoner’s family left a barber came in to shave the inmate’s head and leg to prepare him for later. At 4 pm two trays of wrapped food were wheeled into his cell and he was left alone to eat his last meal.
At 5 pm a priest came by to pray with the inmate or keep him company for his final moments. The inmate declined. He was never religious and wasn’t going to start now. It seemed fake to him, God had never cared about him before he wasn’t going to ask for his help now.
Besides he knew what he did, he didn’t deserve forgiveness, he deserved what he was about to get.
A few minutes before 6 pm the warden called his secretary into his office.
“I’m fixin’ to head over to the death house. Stay by the phone in case someone calls to halt the execution.”
She nodded and left the office without saying a word.
Two guards lead the prisoner from the cell to the room at the end of the hall. They opened to door to a small room with nothing inside except “Old Sparky”.
They sat him down in the chair and began to strap him in, first his arms and then his legs. The prisoner didn’t argue or fight it, he had resigned himself to his fate.
After he was securely fastened they put a sponge on his head and lowered the metal dome and strapped it to his head with a leather strap under his chin. Then they strapped the other receptor around his leg.
At this point, the warden walked in. He began by reading the death warrant to the inmate. He then checked to make sure everything was in place and looked the inmate in the face.
“Do you have any last words or statements to make?”
The inmate sat there for a moment.
“I’m sorry you have to do this.”
The warden looked at him for a moment and left the room. The two guards did one last check to make sure everything was right. There had been times in the past when things were missed and they were forced to repeat the execution multiple times before they got the job done.
Once they made sure it was right they left the room. One of the guards went over and knocked on the door to tell the warden they had cleared the room. Those knocks would be the last thing he ever heard.
The inmate was now alone in the room, on the other side of the one-way glass sat the witnesses. The family of the victims sat huddled in one section, the district attorney and one of the prison administrators sat on the other side of the room.
The warden pushed the red button on the wall. The inmate began to shake and convulse in the chair, his head jerking up and down forward and back. The whole process took less than 30 seconds.
The witnesses sat there speechless, some of the victim’s family had to look away.
After a few seconds, the two guards reentered the room to check for signs of life. After confirming he was dead the warden left and a stretcher was rolled in.
As the guards unhooked the inmate from the chair and loaded him onto the stretcher the smell of burnt human hug in the air.
It was a familiar smell to anyone who had done this before but they never got used to it. Once the body was on the stretcher they placed a sheet over him and wheeled him out of the room.
The warden went back to his office and collected his things. His job was done for the day.
Thanks for reading, here are the other parts of the story.