For awhile now, I’ve been following the case of Charles Burton, an Alabama man who participated in a robbery-gone-bad decades ago. His accomplice shot a man dead, but Burton wasn’t involved in the murder. Yet Alabama has a doctrine called ‘felony murder’ which in essence means that even if you did not do the deed of murder, you can still be sentenced as if you did due to related factors.
Burton was supposed to be executed today. Early morning, I believe. All signs pointed to it happening; I had even marked off time to go to my local church during adoration hours. For what, I don’t know. A little quiet ranting at God for allowing this latest injustice. Or maybe just wanting to be somewhere thoughtful while I worked through my feelings as a bystander, effectively helpless to do nothing but watch and spread the word.
As it turns out, he wasn’t executed. I found out a day late, but Kay Ivey commuted his sentence. In some ways, I’m not surprised: she has this ‘meemaw’ persona that does need some carrot to go with the stick, and social pressure can work. The fact the daughter of the man killed advocated for Burton to not be executed also helped, no doubt. I’m also not surprised that the son of a bitch AG Steve Marshall wanted him dead anyway. Maybe he should’ve tried to get the actual murderer instead of someone who wasn’t even in the building. Or maybe the government shouldn’t execute any of its citizens, but what do I know?
Don’t get me wrong, Burton still committed a crime. He robbed, he threatened, he was a part of this crime. But he served his time (and then some, in my opinion.) Now he’s old and is still in prison for the rest of his life. Personally, I think he served his time. Armed robbery in 1991, and still in prison now? Thirty-five years is a hell of a time to think about what you did, especially when you’ve got the added load of what you didn’t do but are being punished for. Maybe not even a modicum of capital-J Justice was carried out Tuesday, but it’s better than it would’ve been. These days, I’ll take it.
