The Executioner's Song

by Norman Mailer

  Since the coffin would be incinerated with the body, they had only a welfare-type casket waiting. It was made of plywood, although covered in maroon velvet, and it had silver rails on the side, and nice white satin on the inside, plus a real nice satin pillow. It was better than just a plain wood box, although nowhere near one of the fancy metal jobs.

  Among Jerry Scott's orders this day was to make sure the right guy was being burned. So, just before they put the casket into the furnace, he lifted the sheet to verify Gary's face. Then they lifted the big oven door they had slammed down earlier to protect against the four-foot flame that shot out during the preheating, and inserted the box and body. Once it was in the kiln, and burning for a few minutes, they opened the door another time for Jerry, and the guy who ran the place took a long poker and knocked off the head of the casket. Then they stared through a furnace hole about fourteen inches by fourteen through which Jerry Scott could see Gary's head. Already the scalp was burning and the skin was falling off to the side.

  Scott could see Gary's face going, and the top flesh blacken and disappear. Then the muscle began to bum, and Gilmore's arms which had been folded on his chest came up from the tightening, and lifted until the fingers of both hands were pointing at the sky.

  That was the very last recognition Jerry Scott had of him. He kept this picture in his head all the while the body was burning, and that was plenty of time, for he had gone to the furnace at two-thirty, and the work wasn't done until five when there was nothing left but a bit of ash and the char of the bones.

  A couple of waitresses, friends of Toni Gurney, who worked at The Stirrup, came over to the place before the evening shift to sit at the bar. It was a large, dark cocktail lounge with a dance floor and, of course, being Utah, you had to buy a membership in the club to get your drink, but that was not too difficult. The Stirrup was lively in the evenings, and one of the few nice places between Provo and Salt Lake where you could drink and dance. Now, however, being afternoon, it was quiet, and only a couple of people were there in the half dark.

  One of these friends, named Wiila Brant, asked Alice Anders, the hostess, who the three guys were sitting in the lounge, for they were certainly new. Alice replied they were some of Gary's executioners.

  "How do you know?" asked Willa. The hostess replied, "Well, I signed them in. They're members of the Pronghorn Club in Salt Lake, and we honor that membership." Willa went to get a pack of cigarettes, and made a point of passing their table. One of the men said, "Why don't you sit down and talk to us?"

  They were sitting there drinking and playing liar's poker with dollar bills. After Willa took a seat they played only a little while before one of the men said, "I bet you think we are bloodthirsty bastards, don't you?"

  "Well," said Willa, "it had to be done. That was what Gary wanted." She left it at that. Didn't say she knew Toni Gurney and the rest of the family. Then the executioner said, "Want to see something sadistic?" He showed her a strap of webbing, and the slug of a bullet, and he said, "This is one of the bullets that killed Gary, and this is one of the nylon straps that was holding his arm." Asked if she wanted to touch them, Willa said, "No," but couldn't help herself. She did it with a slight smirk on her face. Then he put them back in his pocket.

  Another one at the table now said he had the hood out in the car. He didn't talk much about it. Merely said 'he had it. They were certainly drinking.

  One of these men was short and stocky and in his mid-thirties, bald on top, and another was also in his mid-thirties with light brown hair, around six feet tall, average weight, only he had a real potbelly and wore glasses. Those were the two talking the most. The third one who didn't talk had dark hair and an average build, but he had a real full beard and a mustache that was graying and he had tears in his eyes. Finally, he said if he had known what he was getting in for, he would never have done it. Then, a young married woman named Rene Wales, whom Willa knew slightly, sat down with them, and they all played a lot more liar's poker.

  After a while, the executioners began to talk about their CBs. All three were equipped, but one began to brag about the distance he could get on his. Before you knew it, Rene Wales left with him to go check out the CB in his pickup. Before she got back, forty-five minutes had passed. Rene came in with the fellow, and both had a look on their faces like they'd been sopping up some of the gravy.

  Chapter 41

  Burial

  Next morning, Tuesday, January 18, Schiller had a meeting with Debbie, Lucinda and Barry Farrell about cleaning up the office and returning the rented equipment. Right in the middle of such housekeeping, a phone call came from Stanger. There was going to be a memorial service in Spanish Fork that afternoon for Gary. Everybody wanted Larry and Barry to be there.

  When Schiller told the girls, they wanted to go, too. Debbie even began to cry. So, of course, that took care of it. They were also invited. Then the service had to be moved a couple of times to elude the press and was finally held not in a church, but at a mortuary in Spanish Fork.

  Tamera walked in the office about that time, and Schiller made a decision not to tell her. Felt he couldn't trust her not to write about it. From what the girls were saying, however, she picked up quickly what was happening and confronted Larry. She was livid. Just out of her mind. "I've been with you," she was saying, "I'm part of the team. Why can't I go?" Schiller had to say, "Well, it isn't that I don't trust you, Tamera, I can't take the chance. It isn't my story to give out." Tamera got mad, and then madder. She was terribly jealous of the fact that Lucinda and Debbie were going. It was the nearest she ever came to looking ugly. In fact, Tamera looked so mad, it was like she was on fire. A pure reporter.

  The mortuary was on the main street, a one-story, pale stucco with a horizontal band of colored-glass window that ran around the front. It was supposed to look like stained glass, Schiller assumed, but it came out looking more like a mosaic on a coffee table. No great building, that was certain.

  There were, to Schiller's surprise, forty people there. He was introduced to many of Bessie's sisters and didn't even try to remember their names, but one by one, they came up and started thanking him.

  Schiller didn't understand what for. Then, the organ music began.

  CAMPBELL Our Eternal Heavenly Father, with deep humility we pause at the beginning of this special memorial service, on behalf of one of our departed, Gary Mark Gilmore, with deep sense of respect and awe for the great character which he was and is and shall forever be. Father, a great tragedy has taken place many years ago in the juvenile justice system to throw a young man, a great person, a child of Thee, into the Courts, and into confinement in this country. We knew him as a great, lovable person, we shall always retain and keep that memory. Be with us now, we pray, in the name of Thy Son, Jesus Christ, Amen. (pause) We have, this afternoon, a message to be delivered by Toni Gurney from Gary's mother.

  TONI Aunt Bessie has asked me to give her message to everyone.

  She says, "I have many wonderful memories of my son, Gary. Beautiful things he has given me, the oil paintings that he painted, and the hand-tooled leather purse he had ordered for me, but the most priceless things Gary has given me, was his love and kindness." . . . I also want to say on behalf of myself and my sister, Brenda . . . (breaks down)

  VERN (reading Toni's message) Ah, I also want to say on behalf of my sister, Brenda, we will all miss Gary. We watched him in time of happiness, and in time of suffering, and we all know he is in peace now.

  CAMPBELL Thank you so much. Mrs. Evelyn Gray wrote some special poems to Gary, that she gave him personally, one of which she would like to read today. Evelyn is a cousin.

  EVELYN To my dear Gary:

  Can death then end such spirit lives, as from life's stormy sea it drives, the frail soul drifting o'er the tide, no, they through dark portals guide, to sail upon a broader sea until another port they see when home they sail through the calm held in the hollow of His loving palm. They sail a beautiful sea, so broad, it
s bounds are known, only to God.

  Thank you.

  CAMPBELL Another person who came to know Gary very well, through many visits, a man who came into his life, through the legal system, Attorney Robert Moody.

  MOODY My dear friends, I think it's appropriate that we take this time to remember Gary. When we talked about it, he said, Yes. yes, I would like to be remembered, I would like a service held in my memory, and I would like Uncle Vern to say something there, to those who see fit to come. As we met with Gary for so many hours over these past several months, we came to know a human being, a creative individual, an individual who thought deeply. Gary didn't have the opportunity that any of us here have had, he was self-taught, and self-taught he was. He'd read widely, and had come to know about many, many things. Gary developed his own philosophy, and he developed his own sensitivity with God, and he did so through the limitations of the incarceration that was inflicted upon him. And this self-education taught something to each of us who conversed with him . . . I think the one thing we will always remember, is that Gary, who looked so long, and so hard for love, only realized in these last few weeks and months that love was in the world, that love was for him, love that he'd never been able to find. As we remember Gary today, let us remember that indeed, love is for all, and no matter what others may say about Gary, his love was there, and I'm assured that Gary's in peace . . . that Gary found God. Thank you.

  CAMPBELL Thank you, Bob. Brother Dick Gray would now like to present a special message.

  DICK GRAY I feel a great loss. I will read these messages that were sent from his brothers. "There are many stories circulating about Gary Gilmore now, and some are good and some are bad, some are true and some are not, but the Gary Gilmore that I knew, was both good and bad, like everyone else. That is what I remember most about Gary Gilmore, that he was exactly like everyone else, when he was young before the law reformed Gary Gilmore, yes, before the law reformed Gary Gilmore, he was like everyone else. To make a long story short, we are gathered here today, because the law reformed Gary Gilmore." His brother Frank. The next is from his brother Mikal. "Gary, I pray you have found a better and more merciful world, I pray that your legacy will be one that will remind us of the value of life, not the glorification or the marketing of death in any form. I pray for our families as I pray for the families of those who have already suffered, and I pray . . . that no man, who claims to represent our interest, forgets the debt to those families. I wish, Gary, that we could have had more time. My love and remorse, Mikal."

  CAMPBELL Thank you, Dick. Thomas R. Meersman, Father at the Utah State Prison, would like at this time, to share with you, Gary, from inside.

  Now, nearly everyone present listened with great interest, for most of them, being Mormons, had never heard a real address from a Catholic priest before.

  MEERSMAN So you know, my name is Father Meersman, and I'm the Catholic Chaplain at the Utah State Prison, ah, my relationship with Gary Gilmore was perhaps different than any of yours. I came into his life because of a very unusual statement I heard a man make when he was condemned to death. I told him that when I met him the first time. I said it's quite an unusual statement and if you mean it, why I will offer you all that I can to bring it about. And the statement that he made is one I imagine that you've all heard: I wish to die with dignity. And so, we began our relationship, we would meet, especially at night, 'cause during the day he was very busy about many things.

  People coming to see him and to visit him ah . . . his name became more and more famous and he gained world and international recognition at least of his name and of what he was doing and things like that . . . We kept it going like this, and when it looked like the end was, of course, very near, well, you have to get serious. There's a time and a place for all things, and so, the night before his deathwatch, we gathered together and it was just about midnight, and the church was in the kitchen, and one of the guards happened to be a Catholic, and he's the one, in our terminology, who served the Mass, and assisted the priest, who happened to be myself, and during two parts of the Mass, we used Bible readings, and when the question was asked, "What Gospel should we read?" in his own inimitable way, he said, "My name is Gary Mark. Read something from Saint Mark." Afterwards, well, the guards were moved to a certain extent, and they noticed, of course, that he was extremely reflective, especially afterwards he didn't move, he just sat there on the table. And ah, we said to him very simply, We came into your life when you said I want to die with dignity. And we'll stay into your life, we'll stay within your life till that's accomplished. But we want you to know this, that every day of my life as a Catholic priest, when I stand at an altar, wherever it may be, in the Utah State Prison, in a hospital, at Saint Peter's in Rome, that every day of my life you will be prayed for. And so, I don't know, these are some of my thoughts. There probably are many more, but I didn't have too much time to jot too much down but I hope that they will help you who loved him so much. And will miss him, of course. That will help you to know him, perhaps, that we said these words, at this time. And I can say nothing better to you than his last words . . . Dominus vobiscum. May the Lord be with you all.

  Thank you.

  CAMPBELL Thank you, Father. I'm deeply moved as all of you are, as we begin to expose the real Gary Mark Gilmore. Another person who has come to respect him, Ron Stanger.

  STANGER I think Bob and I were a part of his adopted family. I think with the exception of maybe three or four days, we were with him every day, and if you don't believe us, ask our wives. Ah, they knew that very well. There I was on Christmas Day, and the family was together, and all the merriment that you always have on Christmas, and guess where Moody and Stanger went? But indeed, it seemed to me to be very appropriate that for the first and maybe the only time in my Lifetime that I consider myself to be a good and true Christian, because I did what the Savior said, and that is to go into prisons and to try and help those people in need.

  May I challenge all of us, however, to do the thing that I also learned from Gary as he would talk with me about family and we all know that he loved children. He would ask us how we were getting along with our children and he'd always say, Ron, raise your family, be close to them, be strict with them, let them know that if they make little mistakes they'll grow into bigger ones. He said one time, when he had that smile he would get on his face, he said, "They might, if they keep doing things wrong, they might end up being another Gary Gilmore."

  CAMPBELL Thank you, Ron. Gary has done for me a great favor. He pushed me over the hump. I'm going to quit the prison in six months. Gary has convinced me that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, that the two words juvenile and justice don't go together. My plans are to move into southern Utah where I have some property and build a boys' ranch and take those up to the age of fourteen who find themselves in difficulty with the law and love them. You've gathered from those that have spoken, that the thing that Gary wanted to leave was love. He probably had more capacity to love than anybody at that place. He gave to me a deep love and I want you to know that I have in me a portion of Gary Mark Gilmore that will never leave.

  He asked that a special song be sung at his memorial, and as he told me about it, he said this is me as I leave this earth. The song is a great Christian hymn, called "Amazing Grace," to be delivered today by Mrs. Robert Moody.

  MRS. ROBERT MOODY (sings)

  Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound

  That saved a wretch like me

  I once was lost but now I'm found,

  Was blind, and now I see.

  Through many dangers, toils, and snares

  I have already come

  Tis Grace has brought me safe thus far

  And Grace will lead me home.

  CAMPBELl, Thank you very much. That was beautiful. I know it's true that Gary loved all of you. But one, in particular, where I know love came from both sides in tremendous and great abundance, was his Uncle Vern . . . And Vern will now deliver the fina
l message.

  VERN Brothers and sisters, friends, on this day, the eighteenth day of January 1977, I stand before you because Gary asked me to. And this is all very strange to me, I've never done this before . . . But I promised him and I would try to say a few words for him. Not to excuse him for what he did, but to try to explain why he did it. Which I'm sure this is going to be difficult for me. The best way that I can explain is that Gary was deeply in love with a girl that was deeply in love with him. And the problems that they had themselves was probably the same problems that some of us have. But Gary just couldn't handle them. He had to strike out at something, somebody, and unfortunately, he did. Gary has gone to his death hoping that this will atone for what he has done. He's done this thing to two fine families, but he tells me he has only one life to give, and he wished he had more. And he would give more. He has given special parts of his body to people and to science, hoping that it will help some unfortunate person to be healthy again. I've learned to know Gary . . . the last few months, more than I ever had since I'd known him, I've seen the inner side of Gary, and he is human, tender, and yes, understanding, very capable of love. Gary is on his way to a new life with God, and so, as Gary would say, "You people be cool." In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

  After the service, Stanger asked Larry Schiller into the side room where the urn was standing. There Larry learned that Gary had requested that his ashes be spread over Spanish Fork because that was where his loving memories were. Vern felt Gary didn't want to be in an enclosed place again. He had been enclosed all his life. Now he wanted to be on top of the earth and free to roam as the wind blew.