The case of the hypnotized witness

The case of the hypnotized witness

Capital punishment

Hypnotism

Chiles, Lawton, 1930-1998

Spaziano, Joe

Mello, Michael

The article discusses the swiftness that the judicial system prefers the capital punishment system operate. Joseph Spaziano's case received a large amount of publicity and another appeal due to the vague testimony offered by a witness who had been hypnotized to "remember" what he had seen.

McCarthy, Colman

"The Case of the Hypnotized Witness,” The Washington Post, August 5, 1995. McCarthy, Colman

HIST 298, University of Mary Washington

1995-08-05

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Washington, D.C.

Since 1978, 34 men convicted of homicide have been killed in Florida’s electric chair, a.k.a. “Old Sparky.” The 35th was to have been Joseph Spaziano, on death row for 19 years for the 1973 murder of Laura Harbets, a young hospital worker whose body was found in a Seminole County dump.

In the 1975 trial, the jury, which was twice deadlocked but ordered to push on, recommended for a life sentence for the former president of the Orlando Outlaws Motorcycle Brotherhood. Florida is among the states allowing judges, in their robed wisdom and knowing they must run for reelection, to override sentencing juries. This one ordered death.

In late May, Gov. Lawton Chiles issued a death warrant for Spaziano’s execution on June 27. On June 16, following an unprecedented outflow of editorial’s in the state’s major newspapers calling for either clemency or a new trial because of the flimsiness of the state’s case, Chiles granted a temporary stay of execution.

Like previous chief executives of Florida—the state is second to Texas in the number of executions—Chiles does not hesitate to sign death warrants. He is not alone in his belief. Congress, the Supreme Court and Bill Clinton are now a united chorus for quickening the pace of executions. The president, calling appellate delays “ridiculous” and “interminable,” agrees with Republican death penalty champions that one appeal is plenty.

The Spaziano case starkly counters this voguish faith in hurried justice. Twenty years were needed for doubts about Spaziano’s guilt to filter up to a governor and persuade him to pause and consider the defendant’s persistent claim of innocence.

Among the glaring dubieties, the major one involves the fingering testimony of the state’s key witness, Tony Dilisio, a 16-year-old LSD and pot user when the crime occurred. When first questioned he offered only vague and uncorroborated accounts of what Spaziano allegedly said in general about murdering people. To jog the youth’s memory—no physical evidence was found to connect Spaziano to the crime—police interrogators called upon a hypnotist. Thus entranced, Dilisio now “remembered” that Spaziano had taken him to the dump to show him the victim’s body and brag of killing her.

The jury was not told by Spaziano’s lawyer that the recollection of the dump site was induced by hypnosis. Florida now thinks better of allowing this sort of quackery into courtrooms. It was outlawed—though not retroactively—in 1985.

Dilisio, now 37, agrees. Located by Miami Herald investigative reporters last month, he stated: “Surely they’re not going to let Spaziano go to the chair, to have his blood shed, on what a confused and scared kid said.” Dilisio added that he “could very well have been brainwashed. . . . With hypnosis, they plant things in your head.”

The case turned on that planting. The prosecutor told the court, “If we can’t get in the testimony of Tony Dilisio, we’d have absolutely no case whatsoever.”

As in nearly all death penalty cases involving questionable procedures and sketchy evidence, it was a lawyer of relentless energy who argued for Spaziano’s innocence. Michael Mello, a professor of Vermont Law School, author of two dozen law review articles on capital punishment, and one of a handful of specialists in post-conviction homicide law, is a former Florida public defender who has represented some 70 condemned men.

Mello has practiced long enough to know that review courts, including the Supreme Court trade in questions of procedure and rarely on evidentiary issues of guilt or innocence. They are part of an increasingly busy assembly line, with death rows packed with nearly 3,000 people.

Mello is an experienced professional skilled in unearthing evidence that persuades skeptics. This case, so riddled with questionable tactics, and based on one person’s sketchy testimony, prompts him to say: “I’m convinced Spaziano is innocent. I have never encountered a murder conviction that smells so rotten at its core.”

Of his role in gaining the governor’s attention, Mello, who has worked pro bono on the case, is modest: “The execution was stayed because of the Miami Herald’s old-fashioned gumshoe reporting. It tracked down Dilisio and for the first time in 20 years he talked. It was not any defense lawyer or judge who stopped this execution. The Herald saved the legal system from itself.”

True, so far. Spaziano could still get the chair. His hope for freedom is to be decided this month by the Florida Board of Executive Clemency, consisting of the governor and his Cabinet. One of its seven members is the attorney general, whose office is hellbent to see Spaziano killed. In a July 27 motion, it smear Michael Mello as “unethical” for having successfully publicized the case: He “lathered up the media to accomplish exactly what he wanted.”

That’s quite a claim. It’s about as credible as the original—and now disavowed—testimony of the hypnotized teenage druggie.

Newspaper

Kintz, Amber

Dickinson, Terra