by Samuel Roen
Ashton concluded: “Your verdict, ladies and gentlemen, should be guilty of first-degree murder, should be guilty of carjacking, should be guilty of robbery, should be guilty of kidnapping, because that’s what the evidence you received shows. Thank you.”
Jeff Ashton turned and walked back to the prosecution table.
CHAPTER 36
Following a brief recess, the courtroom filled immediately and Judge Belvin Perry resumed his seat on the bench. The bailiff called the court to order.
All activity ceased as total quiet prevailed and the jury was seated.
The attorneys for the defense sat beside their client at their table, soberly awaiting the forthcoming charge from the judge.
The prosecutors listened attentively, satisfied that they did their job in presenting their case.
Judge Perry, sitting totally erect, began his address to the jury, pointing out its great responsibility in reaching their important verdict.
The judge reviewed step by step the separate charges that were made, and he instructed them how they were required by law to deal with each. He emphasized that their ultimate decision must be based solely upon evidence that had been presented in trial.
There were new complications in the law regarding the death penalty due to the United States Supreme Court’s decision in the Arizona case, which ruled that the jury must hear and decide the penalty phase as well as the guilt phase in a trial.
In his own interpretation of the U.S. Supreme Court ruling, Judge Belvin Perry created and issued to the jurors a special verdict form. It basically listed every aggravating circumstance that the state presented that would warrant the death penalty. There were five in this case. The form would show how each individual juror voted on each of the five aggravating-circumstance factors.
The defense attorneys thought this would give Huggins strong grounds for appeal. “Those verdict forms were not authorized by the law,” Wesley said.
When Perry concluded, he dismissed the jury to go into their room to deliberate.
After the jury filed out of the room, Judge Perry acknowledged defendant John Steven Huggins, who asked permission to speak to the judge.
Bob Wesley had a puzzled expression on his face, but he sat with his assistants watching and waiting for the next event and the judge’s decision.
“You may speak,” the judge allowed.
“Your Honor,” Huggins began, “I have a request to make to you.”
Perry sat up more attentively. “And what is that request, Mr. Huggins?”
“Your Honor,” Huggins politely offered, “I would like your authorization to dismiss my lawyer Bob Wesley.”
The courtroom came alive with whispers. What in the world was this development? Jim Larson looked askance at his mother and whispered, “What will this guy come up with next?”
John Huggins, the accused, stood before the judge, cleanly shaven, hair cut and combed neatly, dressed in a dark suit. He presented an impression of an ordinary citizen who just happened to be in court as an observer, not the man on trial for a heinous murder.
Judge Perry was taken aback by Huggins’s request.
“I don’t know” was his first voiced reaction.
Huggins responded, “Your Honor . . . I believe that it is my right to be represented by counsel of my choice.”
Stiffening, the judge stared at Huggins momentarily and then assured him, “Mr. Huggins, none of your rights will be denied by this court, but at the same time it is the obligation of this court to recognize all proprieties. Mr. Wesley was your choice and yours alone. At this point there is question about the propriety of dismissing him.”
“Your Honor,” John Huggins stated, “Mr. Wesley and I have come to an impasse on the strategy for the penalty phase of this trial.” Huggins stopped, permitting the judge to consider his request seriously.
“Your Honor,” Huggins continued, “this is my life that we are discussing. This is a question whether I shall be permitted to go on living—whether I live or die.” Huggins waited again.
A wave of whispers swept over the courtroom in reaction to Huggins’s request. The reporters asked, “He’s discussing the penalty phase. Is he conceding that he will be found guilty?”
Judge Perry shifted in his chair, grasped a pencil and scribbled a note as Huggins spoke again.
“Your Honor, may I please continue?”
The judge nodded his permission.
“Your Honor, I implore you. Please consider this pleading from me as a man who stands before you asking for your consideration.”
Judge Perry tried valiantly to persuade Huggins that this was not a wise decision and he should carefully reconsider.
But John Huggins was adamant in his request.
Finally Judge Belvin Perry reluctantly granted John Huggins his desire to dismiss Bob Wesley as defense counsel and to represent himself.
“I thank you, Your Honor.”
The judge addressed the defense attorney. “Mr. Wesley, I want you, along with your associates, to stand by in this court and function in an advisory capacity.”
Wesley agreed and sat down again with his associate at the defense table, but they were silent. John Huggins was in charge of his own defense now.
This request created a rare circumstance. Acting as his own attorney put him in the unique position of being able to have direct contact with, and to question members of, the Larson family during the penalty phase of the trial.
Ada Larson turned to Phyllis and Mert Thomas in vexation and whispered, “It’s a circus that he can represent himself and question our family.”
Jim whispered back that he wasn’t bothered by Huggins’s doings. “He’s trying to make a big flash.... Let him have his moment.”
The court went into recess, awaiting the rendering of the verdict from the jury.
Just hours following his denigrating firing of his defense lawyers, John Huggins heard the verdict. The jury returned after five hours to pronounce Huggins guilty on all charges, convicted for the second time.
Ada Larson unabashedly pumped her fist into the air.
John Huggins requested the jury be polled, then sat stone-faced, watching as the jurors were individually asked about each one’s decision.
The jury would return the next day, Friday, July 26, 2002, to consider and determine the sentencing portion of their verdict. The now-convicted Huggins faced the penalty of death or a prison term of life with no parole, which would be decided by the returning jury.
Jeff Ashton stated that he felt vindicated.
Jim Larson, in his usual subdued but serious manner, said, “I’m happy with the verdict. We got what we wanted.”
Mert Thomas, father of the victim, said, “I’m glad it went the way it did.” He paused and then continued. “If we can get the next days behind us, then maybe we can get the whole thing behind us.”
Phyllis Thomas’s view was emotional. “We were thinking that Carla was with us today, guiding us through this.” She dabbed her eyes. “We just hope this shows that the system is working . . . maybe a little too slow sometimes, but I guess it’s working and these people cared. They believe in what they heard and followed through.”
CHAPTER 37
It was Friday and most people in the courtroom were looking ahead to the weekend break after this penalty phase of the trial.
Jeff Ashton, confident of the progress of the prosecution, rose and called Phyllis Thomas to testify, asking her to express in her own words how her daughter’s death affected the family.
The bereaved mother spoke emotionally about her beloved daughter, how the family was forever changed and how much they all missed her. There was great sympathy in the courtroom for the woman as she spoke lovingly about how special her daughter was and what she meant to all of them.
Ashton also called Carla’s dear friend Kristi Lovell, who spoke tearfully of their friendship over many years and what it meant to her.
John Huggins did not ask any questions of e
ither Phyllis Thomas or Kristi Lovell.
Jim Larson was next on the witness stand. He spoke in a subdued voice about how devastating the loss of his wife was to him and their daughter. When he concluded, he sat calmly, prepared to face the self-appointed defender John Huggins.
The tension in the courtroom was heavy, and it was so quiet it was as if every person in the room were holding his or her breath.
Huggins strode to the podium proudly, like a gladiator who had triumphed in a life-challenging contest.
One reporter observed, “Look at that son of a bitch. He’s got a helluva nerve. You’d think that he just won a seat in the senate.” His fellow writers snickered in agreement. But the big questions in their minds were “What in the world is he going to ask Jim Larson? What can he possibly ask him?”
In a friendly approach, as though the two men were lifelong dear buddies who had only a minor difference of opinion, Huggins inquired affably, “How long have we been going around in circles with this case?”
The quiet, soft-spoken Jim Larson, a bit startled by the question, hesitated and then responded, “Quite a while . . . five years.”
Taking a step closer to the husband of the woman he brutally murdered, Huggins directed defiantly, “Please look at the jury and tell them what sentence would be appropriate in this case.”
Like an unleashed tiger sprung from its cage, Jeff Ashton was on his feet. “Objection,” he shouted.
Judge Perry quietly sustained him.
Ignoring his setback, the convicted Huggins brazenly continued, “Was there a plea offer made in this case?”
Again Jeff Ashton was on his feet, objecting. And again Judge Perry sustained the prosecutor.
The reporters, who immediately picked up on that question, whispered to each other, “Did you know about that? Do you think it’s true? What could he have been offered?”
Huggins didn’t ask Jim Larson any further questions, but he successfully imparted to the jury that the state offered him a deal that he turned down.
He cockily turned from the jury and sat down.
The courtroom remained quiet, still shocked by the bizarre sight of Huggins questioning the husband of the woman he was convicted of killing. It seemed almost a travesty of justice for Huggins to have any contact at all with Larson.
Huggins had only one witness speaking for him, Sandra Jo Huggins, his sister. The thirty-six-year-old woman was currently serving time in the Levy Forestry Camp near Ocala, Florida, for a DUI manslaughter conviction. In January 1999 Sandra Jo lost control of her truck at Lake Panasoffkee, killing her thirteen-year-old passenger. She is scheduled for release in May 2010.
In a clear-cut bid to create sympathy for John and the Huggins family, the testimony brought out that their father suffered from colon cancer, but his death occurred in a fire. And another Huggins sister died in a car accident.
At the conclusion of her testimony, John Huggins gave only a brief forty-second summation to jurors and sat down.
Prosecutor Jeff Ashton addressed the jury, explaining this second phase of the trial, which was to determine the sentence for John Huggins.
The defendant, representing himself, pushed his chair back from the defense table, prepared for whatever Ashton was about to suggest or propose.
Bob Wesley and Greg Hill, Huggins’s former attorneys, sat silently beside him, alert and ready to consult if called upon.
At the front-row audience section, Jim and Ada Larson gripped hands, as did Phyllis and Mert Thomas. It was the end of a long ordeal for these family members, and they were simply glad to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Jeff Ashton continued explaining to the jury that they had to think of the two phases of the trial separately, because they had to do those two acts separately.
Ashton went on to specify the issue of aggravating circumstances, pointing out that in this case there were five, and indicating that the jurors would be required to determine whether the state proved them beyond a reasonable doubt.
One by one, Ashton defined the five separate aggravating circumstances in full detail, and specifically gave examples of Huggins’s involvement in each.
Jeff Ashton fervently described the horror Carla Larson suffered in her last hours and minutes, asking the jury to imagine not just how she was killed, but the terror that she went through from the time she met up with Huggins through the time her life ceased. “And that’s very difficult, because to think about what Carla went through is to imagine one’s worst nightmare.”
Huggins interrupted, “Objection, Your Honor.”
In a quiet voice Judge Perry asked, “Basis of objection?”
Huggins answered, “Improper statement.”
Judge Perry said, “Overruled.”
Ashton went on describing the agony the victim went through emotionally.
This brought Huggins to his feet again. “Objection, Your Honor.”
With a patient tone the judge asked, “Same objection?”
“No.”
Judge Perry inquired, “Basis of objection?”
Authoritatively Huggins stated, “State of mind of the victim is not a material fact.”
“Overruled,” declared Judge Perry.
Ashton continued, “It’s not just physical pain, it is emotional and psychological torture that you must consider. You must ask yourselves, ‘What was Carla thinking?’ ”
Phyllis Thomas’s head dropped as she dabbed the tears from her eyes, envisioning her lovely daughter’s painful last moments of life.
Ashton watched the jury as they absorbed his dramatic words, and then he described for them his reasonable inferences as to how and where Carla was murdered.
He dramatically painted a word picture of her strangulation, how she was conscious and aware of what was happening to her. “We know that she had time to think. And we know that when Mr. Huggins put his hands around her throat, she was awake, she was alert and she knew what was going on.”
Interrupting Ashton’s graphic and explosive presentation, John Huggins rose and said, “Objection. Can we approach?”
With the judge’s permission, Huggins spoke at the bench with all the bravado of a “jailhouse lawyer.”
“Judge, I believe this is improper argument. Going to the state of mind of the victim, in Stone versus State, his case was overturned on the basis of improper argument. The state of mind of the victim at the time of the offense.”
Ashton responded, citing other cases that disputed Huggins’s argument. Again Judge Perry overruled the objection.
The prosecutor continued reviewing all of the aspects of aggravating circumstances, as well as mitigating circumstances, stating, “It will be your duty to determine whether any mitigating circumstances have been proven.”
Ashton told the jury that the weight of the evidence presented to them in aggravation in this case was overwhelming. “You have a man with a lengthy record of violent criminal conduct going back to 1979, with eleven convictions for armed robbery; you’ve got a man who kidnaps a woman, murders her in a way that I do not want to further describe. For financial gain. To take her car. . . . The death of Carla Larson is beyond comprehension.”
The prosecutor concluded: “Based upon the laws and based upon the facts that you have seen, the only reasonable verdict is to find that the aggravating circumstances in this case so far outweigh any mitigation presented, that the only reasonable, the only legal, recommendation you can make is death.”
Ashton thanked the jury and returned to his seat at the state’s table, satisfied that he did his best in presenting the state’s case. Now it was up to the jury.
The jury filed out to begin their deliberations.
John Huggins sat motionless in his chair, silent and passive.
Jeff Ashton was weary from the strain of delivering his arguments, but he was also keyed up. This was the culmination of so many months of preparation.
He turned to Jim Altman. “I wonder how long the jury will be out.”
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“There’s no telling,” Altman replied.
Ashton stood up. “C’mon, let’s stretch our legs. I’m too antsy to just sit here and wait.”
“I know how you feel. These waits for juries can be agony.”
“Yeah,” Ashton agreed, then grinned. “But not as bad for us as for Huggins.”
“You got that right,” Altman replied.
It was only a few hours, but they seemed to drag. Finally word came that the jury was ready.
The courtroom settled into an expectant quiet as the jury silently returned to their box, looking straight ahead, avoiding eye contact with any of the adversaries, giving no hint or clue of their verdict.
Jim Larson gripped his mother’s hand, the pressure revealing his anxiety. The Thomases also held each other’s hands, awaiting the pronouncement that would spell the end, they hoped, of this ordeal that they had lived for the past five years.
Breaking the tense silence, Judge Perry asked, “Have you reached a verdict?”
The jury foreman stood, faced the judge and answered, “Yes, Your Honor, we have.”
The verdict paper was passed to the judge by the bailiff. Perry studied the form, then passed it back to the foreman.
“How say you?” the judge inquired.
The foreman quietly told the judge that the jury voted John Steven Huggins the death penalty.
A burst of chatter from the spectators, in reaction to the verdict, broke out over the entire courtroom as Judge Perry gaveled for order.
As quiet finally emerged, Judge Perry courteously thanked the jury for their devoted service and excused them. Accordingly, they filed out of the courtroom.
As the jurors departed, heading for different exits, the press swarmed around them, jabbing microphones into their faces and holding recording devices before them, to get firsthand accounts of what transpired in the jury room.
It became known through the continuous pressing of the jurors that as a body they voted nine to three that John Huggins should be executed.
During the melee of the postsentencing activities, John Huggins managed a weak smile and a wave to his mother and his children before he was escorted, cuffed and restrained, from the courtroom back to a jail cell.