Miami Herald

FLORIDA: Death Row itself is death enough, survivor says

A false calm falls over death row as an execution approaches.

"I'll bet it's quiet right now," says Juan Melendez. "No one on the row likes to talk about an execution. They don't talk about it when it is about to happen and they don't talk about it after it happens. They just try to put it out of their minds, which is impossible."

 Melendez should know. He spent 17 years, eight months and one day on Florida's death row for a crime he didn't commit. Released in January, Melendez became the 24th Florida inmate whose conviction was overturned.

 The 51-year-old Melendez flew into Miami on Saturday from Puerto Rico, where he now lives with his mother. On Sunday he spoke at the Coral Gables Congregational Church. In the coming days he will travel up the state, speaking out against the death penalty on behalf of several groups including Floridians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty. On Wednesday he will be in Starke as Aileen Wuornos, America's first female serial killer, is put to death.

 Before his visit to the church on Sunday, Melendez had breakfast at the Denny's across from the University of Miami. Melendez understands Wuornos' decision to end all of her appeals and allow the government to kill her. Just as he understood Rigoberto Sanchez-Velasco's decision to meet his death by lethal injection last week.

 "He wanted to die," he says. "She wants to die. But why should they get what they want? They are using the government to help them commit suicide and that's wrong."

 Melendez orders a small glass of orange juice. Neighboring booths fill up with football fans heading to tailgate parties.

 "We don't need the death penalty," he says. "It doesn't resolve any problems. All it does is bring hate. All people think about is revenge. Most of the guys on the row are guilty. But some aren't. I wasn't. But the state was ready to kill me."

 Melendez was freed when it was discovered that prosecutors had hid information that another man had actually confessed to the murder. Once his convictions were overturned, the state was forced to admit that it had no real evidence against Melendez.

"I arrived on the row on a Tuesday, and on Thursday they had an execution," he recalls. "I was so naive of the law. I didn't really understand the death penalty or the appeal process, and I didn't speak English so well either. So I got so scared that I cut up all of the sheets on my bed and used them to tie my cell door shut so they couldn't open it. I thought I would be next. I thought there would be executions every day and that in three or 4 or 5 days it would be my turn and I didn't want them to come and get me."

 In the time he was on death row, 44 people were executed.

 "Not only does it get quiet, but when the time is close you can feel that tension," he says. "You can tell that somebody is going to go. Those were the hardest days for me when I was on the row, when they killed someone."

 He and Leo Jones were neighbors on the row for seven years, before Jones' execution in 1998. "That was the worst for me," says Melendez. "You become more than friends, more than family."

 Melendez survived four governors -- Bob Graham, Bob Martinez, Lawton Chiles and Jeb Bush.

 "The death penalty is all about politics," he says. "We used to talk a lot about politics while I was on the row. The guys, they don't like Jeb Bush very much."

 What do they say?

 "I don't want to tell you, because it might help Jeb," he laughs, pushing what remains of his grand slam breakfast aside. "The truth is we were never happy with any of them. I felt the same about every governor. You can't like somebody who is trying to kill you."

 If he ever gets the chance, Melendez would like to tell the governor one thing.

 "I'd tell him to get some guts and call for a moratorium, just like Governor Ryan did in Illinois," says Melendez. "He knows there is a problem with the death penalty in the state."

 Indeed, a recent court decision involving an Arizona case suggests death penalty laws in Florida may soon be struck down as unconstitutional. "What's wrong with waiting to see if the laws are legal," says Melendez. "He should do the right thing and not worry about the politics."

 Melendez rubs his left wrist.

 "Arthritis," he says. "Every time you leave your cell you are in handcuffs and chains and it hurts your wrists. I get cramps in my legs, too, just from walking."

 He was only allowed out of his cell 4 hours a week.

 "That's what I don't understand," he says. "They don't need the death penalty. They don't have to kill you in the electric chair or lethal injection, because the place itself is already killing you. The place itself is death."