(Lonnie and his son) 

Lonnie was executed by the state of Texas on July 24, 2007

This was his homepage with ALIVE:

My name is Lonnie Johnson. I’m a Death Row prisoner searching for correspondence. I can understand the reluctance of people getting involved with prisoners on Death Row, for the emotional baggage is difficult for most people to deal with. I’ve been incarcerated for many years now. I’m not searching for anything specific and just want to write people who are open minded, direct and can be themselves. Please feel free to express what you wish; however you wish to express it.

I know first letters can be difficult to write so just relax and write whatever crosses your mind. I would prefer people to write me directly, however I will respond to e-mail as quickly as possible. Some of my interests are reading, writing, studying case law and exercising my mind, body, and soul. I like listening to the radio and am in the process of writing a book - something of an autobiography of my past life, as well as my life here on Death Row.

Lonnie Johnson
# 999135
 

About Lonnie
(prepared by Lonnie's supporters)

Lonnie was born in Houston. His family was poor but both parents were employed. He graduated from high school and went to college. Tall and athletic, he was a football star, but dropped out because his mother needed  financial support. In 1990. as a 27-year-old with a son and a daughter, he was working in his small landscaping business by day and training by night to get back into football. He wrote that he was out jogging late one hot August night when he met 2 teenagers, complete strangers who offered him a lift home in their truck. Despite the racism of the area he felt safe with them because of their youth.

He told me that when he questioned the route they were taking, he suddenly felt a gun pressed into the side of his head and heard 'This is the end of the ride for you' Nigger.' When the truck stopped, he was forced out onto the ground and the 2 teenagers kicked him in the head and stomped on his back, all the time laughing and saying, 'Nigger you gonna die. I hate Niggers. We're gonna cut you up.'

When he was ordered, 'Get your black Nigger arse up,"   Lonnie got up slowly, and then made a grab for the guy holding a gun.   He said he was mad with fear and rage and struggled against this teenager who was bigger than him. The smaller youth jumped on Lonnie's back. The gun went off.  "The big guy falls.
I have the pistol now. The other guy comes at me with a knife. So I pull the trigger."

Two weeks later he was arrested. He describes the experience as like 'having someone stick a thousand knives in my heart.'    He said that until then he hadn't realized that his assailants had died. One of them had been found still clutching a knife with a 20 cm blade.

He strongly maintains that he acted in self defense; that he had no weapon; that one teenager had a gun and the other a knife 'If you 'd been in my situation,' he asked, 'what would you have done?'

Lonnie claims that he spent 4 1/2 years in jail in Houston before his case came to and that his state appointed (legal aid) attorney visited him only twice in all that time. On one of those occasions it was to offer him a deal - to plead guilty and receive a 60 year sentence.   Not surprisingly he refused. Later he was offered a 50 year sentence and refused, saying 'Why should I do all that time when I'm innocent?'

He wrote, 'My family and friends were in court every day. Everyone expected me to be acquitted. But my attorney didn't call any witness on my behalf.   The jury heard only the prosecution side. Because of this I had a gut feeling I'd be found guilty but I tried to stay positive.  I kept saying to myself, "they can free me. " I didn't take the stand. I wanted to, but my attorney said ft was better not to.

'The verdict was read out.   Found guilty of capital murder - I was totally devastated.   Numb and angry  at the same time.   Angry because this was the justice system I had been taught to believe in. The government I'd voted for. And here it was, condemning me to death... I was allowed to see my mother and father, one at a time, after the verdict I came to Death Row in January 95.'

New laws have recently cut the period during which appeals may be lodged, and Lonnie's time-limit is almost up.  Understandably after his experience with his trial lawyer, he doesn't want another state appointed attorney to handle his appeal, saying that they are employees of the justice system that has condemned him - and he has no evidence that he would be properly represented. He has had an interview with a private  Appellant Attorney who has achieved the release of other Death Row prisoners on appeals, and this man will take his case if Lonnie can raise $75, 000 for the fees. It is an impossibly large sum for a family that has always been poor. I was informed recently that the minimum an attorney would accept to take Lonnie's case would be $ 30000.

But Lonnie keeps up his hope through days of what would seem demoralizing sameness, deadening predictability.  In some letters he rages against the injustice of his conviction and the racial hatred he has always lived wit,  but says, "I can do now is stay and be real with myself and others...I keep in shape with push-ups, and mentally, physically and spiritually I'm the best in my entire life.   My routine is getting up at 2.30 a.m. to eat breakfast, saying my prayers, and if I have some very important letters to answer I turn my radio on, brush my teeth and get busy while irs nice and calm. Or just sit and listen to the birds sing outside my window, thinking about my children.  Read the Holy Koran or law cases, write more letters, pray, eat, go outside for 2 hours, watch a little TV, eat, read, pray, write a few more letters, and that's the whole day. Very exciting, huh?'

He wrote in March '97, 'My mother came to visit me, bringing my son and daughter. The visit was very very emotional because my friend Barefield's family were there too.  They were spending their last hours, minutes and seconds with him before his execution.  But as I was trying to help them keep strong, my mother started to cry.  It really hurts me inside to see my mother cry like that and there's nothing I can do.  My son and I tried to comfort her, and I gave her encouraging words that if we work hard we can prevent this awful thing from happening to me.   Barefield went to his death protesting his innocence.  In fact it was his brother who had committed the murder.'

'Letters help me mentally, keeping my mind out of this crazy place for a while.
I really enjoy the poems you send and look forward to reading many many more. Henley's poem stuck in my mind. Very strong and inspiring I say it as I walk. "I thank whatever gods may be/ For my unconquerable soul .. . In the fell clutch of circumstance / I have not winced nor cried aloud / Under the bludgeonings of chance/  My head is bloody, but unbowed. "

But sadly - for a man on Death Row, with no money and no influence - courage may not be enough to save his life.

You're not so heavy

As I rise from bed everyday
its done with great intensity.
Just knowing my purpose is great,
committing to freeing our minds.
You're not so heavy.
Struggling on is an everyday thing
When won it can make our hearts sing
It has great power for most
as it gives a mighty ring.
You're not so heavy.
Oppression has cast its ugly spell upon
the people, and their struggle seem
unbearable sometimes;
but strong people we are.
You're not so heavy.
We all are an extended family.
Our links and roots run deep all across the
plains of the Motherland to the
Northern Shores of Northern America.
People you're not so heavy.
Lets work together to save
the babies, children, people of the land.
Because they're not so heavy.
We've helped and carried
one another, we shared with one another.
We're not so heavy.
You're not so heavy.
We all are not so heavy.
Lets carry each other.

by Lonnie Johnson

last Update: 12.08.09
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