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By Edward Zelinsky

Like most Connecticut residents, I watched with a mixture of fascination and horror the trial of Steven J. Hayes. Hayes is one of two defendants accused of the particularly gruesome home invasion murders in July, 2007 in suburban Cheshire, Connecticut. Hayes has been found guilty; the jury has sentenced Hayes to receive the death penalty.

Like everyone who followed this trial, I have both admired and sympathized with Dr. William Petit, Jr. whose wife and two daughters were brutalized and killed by Hayes. Unsurprisingly, Dr. Petit wanted the death penalty in this case as would I had I been in Dr. Petit‘s position. So compelling have been the facts exposed at Hayes’ trial that many normally outspoken opponents of the death penalty have remained silent as the jury assigned that penalty to Hayes for his truly evil crimes.

During the Hayes trial, I also spent much time thinking about Ricardo Beamon. Mr. Beamon too was killed in July, 2007 in Connecticut. Mr. Beamon had led a troubled inner-city life which he had turned around by founding, in the words of the New Haven Register, a “high-end urban clothing” store. Mr. Beamon, who left a two year old daughter, was killed in a robbery. In a plea agreement, Mr. Beamon’s murderer agreed to a twenty year prison sentence. Mr. Beamon’s murder has occasioned relatively little public attention.

Undoubtedly, distinctions can be drawn between these two cases. However, the similarities are great as well. Both the members of the Petit family and Mr. Beamon are gone, leaving their respective loved ones to grieve for their undeserved losses.

In this context, I have been thinking as well of my nephew Brandon who was killed last summer by a negligent car driver. I am angry about the loss inflicted on us. If I could, I would like to take matters into my own hands. Instead, he will receive a prison sentence and then resume his life. Our loss is no less because the individual who killed Brandon acted negligently, rather than intentionally.

Under these circumstances, I cannot say that we inflict the ultimate penalty of death in a principled fashion.

One other family member has influenced me as I mull these issues, my late uncle, Justice Seymour F. Simon of the Illinois Supreme Court. Seymour was a consistent dissenter in his court’s death penalty cases. The legal basis for his dissent was, at one level, quite technical, namely, that the Illinois death penalty statute permits excessive prosecutorial discretion and violates the separation-of-powers provision of the Illinois state constitution.

However, Seymour came to be a profound critic of capital punishment. Seymour did not oppose the death penalty out of a soft-minded sympathy for those who commit horrible crimes. Rather, sitting atop a large state judicial system, he became convinced that we inflict the death penalty in an unprincipled manner.

I suspect that, when she grows up, Ms. Beamon will agree.

I can’t oppose the death penalty in all cases. Capital punishment was appropriate at Nuremberg. The Israelis were right to hang Adolf Eichmann. If we catch Osama bin Laden, I would favor, in Abe Lincoln’s famous phrase, hanging him like Haman “upon the gallows of [his] own building.”

But short of these cases,

This year’s Manitoba Book Award nominees were recently announced.  I was pleased to see Brenda Wastasecoot’s Granny’s Giant Bannock (illustrated by Kimberley McKay-Fleming) nominated for the McNally Robinson Young People’s Book award.   My kids and I attended the launch of this book at Aqua Books in Winnipeg in December.  We all took delight in this wonderful story narrated by Wastasecoot herself.

Granny comes to visit her grandson Larf who is studying at university in  Brandon, Manitoba.  It is Granny’s first trip to the big city and Larf shows her around.  Granny does not know English; she speaks Cree and must rely on Larf who understands only some of Granny’s words.  Until now, this has not been a problem but when Granny decides to make bannock,  Larf has trouble finding the ingredients to make the delicious treat.  Instead of buying baking powder as Granny tells him in Cree, Larf buys yeast.   The result?  A giant bannock that grows so big it rolls out of the house and into the city of Brandon.

My children loved this story with its hilarious build-up and ending.  Bannock is a much beloved food of the aboriginal people of the prairies.  As Wastasecoot notes in her  prologue:

Bannock was an important supplement to our soups and stews of caribou, moose and fish.  It was also a favorite snack and could easily be whipped up for visitors and their children.

More importantly though was the message of the story which was summed up in the form of a question posed to the reader.  “What do you think Larf should do next time?  What could Granny do to help him?”  The answer?  As Wastasecoot said at the launch, “Teach him Cree!”  Granny’s giant bannock, the result of a misunderstanding, turns out to be a lesson in the importance of maintaining one’s language and customs.

ok. The editor at my job has been wanting me to draw him a pic of Batman beating up Spider-man. I was against it from the start because I don't believe it could ever happen. I mean, Bats is a smart guy but Spidey is fast AND smart. So, after 3 months, I lost some bet and drew him the pic on my break. at my desk. shaking my head during and after the delivery of this sloppy sketch. no time to ink. no time to color. memo pad and #2. ok. I'm done.