Jonesboro Sun - Four Part Interview with Damien Echols

Echols talks about his life, experiences on death row

Sunday, July 4, 2010

EDITOR’S NOTE: This is the second of a 4-part series stemming from a recent prison interview with convicted killer Damien Echols. Some of the information is more graphic than previously published.

By George Jared

VARNER — If he ever leaves death row, the first thing Damien Echols wants to do is eat an apple and feel the sunshine on his face.

It’s been seven years since the convicted murderer has experienced the sun.

Shackled at the ankles, Echols is sometimes allowed to walk in an outside structure he describes as a grain silo with a metal roof. The man, now a celebrity whose friends include actor Johnny Depp and Pearl Jam lead singer Eddie Vedder, typically spends 24 hours a day in a cramped cell.

“I used to really like pizza, but I can’t remember what it tastes like,” Echols said. “You never know what you’ll keep and what you’ll lose.” He added that fame “is irrelevant to me. I’m not exposed to it.”

For 17 years Echols has sat on Arkansas’ death row for killing three West Memphis 8-year-olds — Michael Moore, Stevie Branch and Christopher Byers — on May 5, 1993.

The boys’ nude bodies were found in a ditch, and, according to prosecutors, Echols and his cohorts, Jason Baldwin and Jessie Misskelley Jr., killed the boys in an occult ceremony. No forensic or DNA evidence linked the then-teens to the crime, and for years some have questioned their guilt.

Echols, 35, has always professed his innocence, and the case has convinced supporters of the so-called “West Memphis Three” to raise funds to pay for new attorneys and hire experts.

He may be internationally famous, but Echols said it does him little good on a day-to-day basis.

“I live in a cell where I can take two steps in any direction, and I have to stop,” he said.

Prison allegations

Prison hasn’t been kind to him, Echols said. His eyesight is waning, and his teeth are deteriorating. Echols claims that prison guards hurt his teeth when they hit his face. He said he was told that one tooth could be repaired, but officials will only allow it to be pulled.

“They’re not going to spend a lot of money for medical treatment for someone they plan to kill,” he said.

Echols claims he’s been repeatedly raped after family visitations and forced to perform sex acts with guards.

“I’ve never met a murderer, drug dealer or rapist in jail that scared me,” Echols said. “The guards scare the hell out of me.”

Arkansas Department of Correction officials deny the accusations.

“He made the allegation awhile back, which was investigated thoroughly,” ADC spokeswoman Dina Tyler said via e-mail. “It came down to shakedowns after visitation. We are thorough because a lot of contraband comes through visitation, and he does have contact visits.”

“Inmates don’t like strip searches,” she said. “We have them bend over, squat and cough, which they really don’t like. But that’s one of the most-used places to hide contraband.”

During Echols’ 1994 trial he got to spend a few moments with his infant son Seth. To this day, the two have remained in contact. “I can’t even begin to understand the culture he’s growing up in,” he said. Later he added, “I’ll never get to take him trick-or-treating on Halloween. I’ll never get to be Santa Claus. It’s all gone.”

A death sentence has prevented Echols from being a father, he said. Echols said his own father had very little to do with him.

“I didn’t set out to be to Seth what my father was to me,” he said.

Echols’ mother, father and sister rarely visit. He said he’d rather they stayed out of the limelight. “You can’t expect everyone’s world to stop, just because you’re in prison,” he said.

Each week Echols said he tries to respond to the many letters he receives from around he world. Two people who write him often are Pam Hobbs, Stevie’s mother, and John Mark Byers, Christopher’s stepfather.

Both have stated publicly they believe the West Memphis Three didn’t kill their sons. Echols said he tries to write them as often as he can.

Michael’s parents, Todd and Dana Moore, reportedly still believe the men are guilty. The Moores rarely speak in public about the case.

Echols said he wouldn’t try to convince the Moores of his innocence. “I try to look at it from the perspective of what they’ve been through,” he said. “They have to come to a conclusion on their own like Pam Hobbs and John Mark Byers.”

Changes and passions

The way the world has changed during his incarceration amazes Echols. He’s never been on the Internet, talked on a cell phone, played a CD or DVD or voted.

When he was a kid, he looked forward to watching “It’s the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown” or Christmas specials aired once a year. Cultural events, such as the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, Hurricane Katrina and the election of Barack Obama are of little importance to Echols.

“I miss Christmas and Halloween,” he said. “They’ve taken almost 20 of them away from me.”

Food in prison is extremely bland, and Echols said if he’s released the first thing he wants to do is go out for pizza. Inmates used to get to get fruit at Christmas, but that stopped when too many inmates used the fruit to make alcohol.

Hot dogs are a delicacy in the prison, and Echols said he’s seen fights break out over them.

He spends his time writing letters, mediating, doing yoga and push-ups, and occasionally watches television. An avid Boston Red Sox fan, Echols said he likes to turn the game on and listen to it while he’s thinking. Joel Osteen’s weekly TV sermon is among his favorites, he said.

Echols said he spends a lot of time studying herbal alchemy and archangels. He wonders why people don’t use herbal treatments to cure ailments and doesn’t know why modern medicine costs so much. Buddhism is the religion with which he most closely identifies.

Music was a passion of his before prison. An old radio he has access to picks up two country music stations, which aren’t his favorites.

During his trial prosecutors suggested his taste in heavy metal and hard rock groups like Metallica and Guns N’ Roses were signs of his bent for the occult.

He once heard a faint voice whisper his name through a slit in the cell door. On the other side was a skinny, gangly man who Echols didn’t recognize.

It was Jason Baldwin.

Baldwin was brought over from another prison on a cleaning detail. Seconds later he was gone. That’s the only time, Echols said, he’s seen Baldwin in 17 years.

“I would like to see him again,” Echols said, later adding, “It’s like we were brothers.”

Misskelley and Baldwin were offered shorter prison terms by prosecutors to testify against Echols. Neither did.

“He [Baldwin] has more honor and integrity than people like [Brent] Davis and [John] Fogelman.”

John Fogelman and Brent Davis were the prosecutors in the case.

Echols might have been executed by now or at the very least have no hope for release if it were not for two unknown filmmakers who made their way to Arkansas in the days after his arrest.

Bruce Sinofsky and Joe Berlinger were given unprecedented access to witnesses, victims’ families and the courtroom during the trials. Even as Echols, Baldwin and Misskelley remained in prison, “Paradise Lost” was on its way to casting serious doubt on their convictions.