This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/04/us/dylann-roof-sentencing.html

The article has changed 6 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 2 Version 3
Dylann Roof, Addressing Court, Offers No Apology or Explanation for Massacre Dylann Roof, Addressing Court, Offers No Apology or Explanation for Massacre
(about 3 hours later)
CHARLESTON, S.C. — Sometime in the six weeks after he killed nine people at this city’s Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, Dylann S. Roof wrote in a journal that he had “not shed a tear for the innocent people I killed.” On Wednesday morning, standing before the jurors who will decide whether he should be put to death, Mr. Roof again offered no apology or explanation for the massacre. CHARLESTON, S.C. — Sometime in the six weeks after he killed nine Bible study worshipers at this city’s Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, Dylann S. Roof wrote in a journal that he had “not shed a tear for the innocent people I killed.” On Wednesday morning, standing before the jurors who will decide whether he should be put to death, Mr. Roof again offered no apology, no explanation and no remorse for the horrific massacre.
“There’s nothing wrong with me psychologically,” Mr. Roof, who is representing himself during the penalty phase of his trial in Federal District Court, told the jury of 10 women and two men during a strikingly brief opening statement. In a strikingly brief opening statement in the penalty phase of his trial in Federal District Court, where he is representing himself, Mr. Roof repeatedly assured jurors that he was not mentally ill, and left it at that. “There’s nothing wrong with me psychologically,” he said, of a factor that could determine life or death, before striding back to the defense table, taking a deep breath.
By then, Courtroom No. 6 had already been jarred by Mr. Roof’s journal, which amounted to a post-arrest manifesto of white supremacy. By then, Courtroom No. 6 had already been jarred by a reading of two pages from Mr. Roof’s journal, a white supremacist manifesto written in Charleston County’s jail.
“I would like to make it crystal clear I do not regret what I did,” Mr. Roof wrote in the jailhouse journal, which officials seized in August 2015. “I am not sorry. I have not shed a tear for the innocent people I killed.” “I would like to make it crystal clear I do not regret what I did,” Mr. Roof wrote in the journal, which officials seized in August 2015 and a prosecutor introduced during his opening statement. “I am not sorry.”
Mr. Roof, who was then 21, continued: “I do feel sorry for the innocent white children forced to live in this sick country and I do feel sorry for the innocent white people that are killed daily at the hands of the lower race. I have shed a tear of self-pity for myself. I feel pity that I had to do what I did in the first place. I feel pity that I had to give up my life because of a situation that should never have existed.” Mr. Roof, who was then 21, also wrote: “I do feel sorry for the innocent white children forced to live in this sick country and I do feel sorry for the innocent white people that are killed daily at the hands of the lower race. I have shed a tear of self-pity for myself. I feel pity that I had to do what I did in the first place. I feel pity that I had to give up my life because of a situation that should never have existed.”
The federal prosecutor who read from the journal, Nathan S. Williams, told jurors in the government’s opening statement that Mr. Roof had embarked on a premeditated killing spree that merited the death penalty. As he began to lay out the government’s case for a death sentence, the prosecutor who read from the journal, Assistant United States Attorney Nathan S. Williams, told the jury of 10 women and two men that Mr. Roof’s killing spree had been a premeditated act that had devastated the families of his victims.
“The defendant didn’t stop after shooting one person or two or four or five; he killed nine people,” Mr. Williams said, a few moments before he flatly declared: “The death penalty is justified.” “The defendant didn’t stop after shooting one person or two or four or five; he killed nine people,” Mr. Williams said, a few moments before he declared: “The death penalty is justified.”
The introduction of the journal, coupled with Mr. Roof’s opening statement, was a startling beginning to the trial’s sentencing phase, which is expected to run into next week. Although many people in the courtroom had already heard Mr. Roof’s raspy, Southern-inflected voice during the guilt phase of his trial when prosecutors played a video recording of his confession to the F.B.I., and in brief comments during jury selection and procedural matters, his opening statement on Wednesday was the first time he directly addressed jurors at trial. Later, aided by a slide show of pictures, he described each of the victims and their lives.
Mr. Roof, 22, announced at a pretrial hearing last week that he would present an opening statement, but until he spoke on Wednesday, no one was certain of what he would say. A monologue of white supremacist rhetoric? An apology for the horrific massacre during a Bible study session in the historic church’s fellowship hall on June 17, 2015? Perhaps even an explicit request for a death sentence? The presentations, especially Mr. Roof’s comments and the introduction of the journal, struck a startling beginning to the trial’s sentencing phase, which is expected to run into next week. On Dec. 15, after a weeklong first phase, the jury found him guilty of 33 counts, including hate crimes, obstruction of religion resulting in death and firearms charges. Eighteen counts require the jury to decide whether to sentence Mr. Roof, now 22, to either death or life in prison without the possibility of parole. A death sentence requires unanimity.
In the end, he chose a different path: a repeated insistence that he was not mentally impaired and that his court-appointed lawyers would have been deceiving jurors if they had mounted such a defense. Although many people in the courtroom had already heard Mr. Roof’s raspy, Southern-inflected monotone during the guilt phase of his trial, when prosecutors played a video recording of his confession, his opening statement on Wednesday was the first time he had directly addressed jurors. He chose to allow his court-appointed legal team to represent him during the guilt phase, but sidelined them to represent himself during the penalty phase in order to prevent them from introducing any mitigating evidence regarding his family background of mental capacity.
“The point is that I’m not going to lie to you, not by myself or through somebody else,” said Mr. Roof, who spoke from a lectern as several women left the courtroom, one of them muttering curses. Mr. Roof’s grandparents watched from the second row. His decision to spend only three minutes addressing the jury, and to devote the time to insisting that he was not impaired, seemed to solidify the impression of a man unwilling to rely upon what experts believe is his best opportunity to avoid execution: a mental health defense. He has said he does not plan to call witnesses or present evidence in his behalf.
In many ways, the argument by Mr. Roof, who on Monday was deemed competent to face sentencing, was unsurprising. In a handwritten court filing a day after the jury found him guilty of 33 counts, including 18 that carry the death penalty, Mr. Roof said he would “not be calling mental health experts or presenting mental health evidence.” “The point is that I’m not going to lie to you, not by myself or through somebody else,” said Mr. Roof, who spoke from a lectern. As his paternal grandparents watched from the second row on the left side of the courtroom, several women left their seats on the right side, which is reserved for family members of the victims, one of them muttering curses.
In fact, beyond his words to the jury, Mr. Roof plans to offer no evidence, mitigating or otherwise. He told Judge Richard M. Gergel last week that he did not intend to call any witnesses. Mr. Roof’s minimalist approach stands in sharp contrast to the strategy of Justice Department officials, who could call more than 30 witnesses to try to depict Mr. Roof as remorseless and calculating. The witness list is expected to include at least one survivor of the attack, family members of the victims and federal law enforcement officials.
His minimalist approach stands in sharp contrast to the strategy of Justice Department officials, who could call more than 30 witnesses to try to depict Mr. Roof as callous and premeditating and, as Mr. Williams argued in court last month, “a man who is proven to be a coward and a man of immense racial hatred.” Prosecutors began on Wednesday morning with Jennifer Benjamin Pinckney, the widow of the church’s slain pastor, the Rev. Clementa C. Pinckney.
The witness list is expected to include at least one survivor of the attack, family members of the victims and federal law enforcement officials. Prosecutors called Jennifer Pinckney, the widow of the church’s slain pastor, the Rev. Clementa C. Pinckney, as their first witness. Ms. Pinckney, who had been married to Mr. Pinckney for 15 years, narrated an affectionate and often lighthearted telling of their life together, illustrated by dozens of photographs of her husband — as young saxaphone player in the school band, in a white tuxedo for their wedding, attending the births of their two girls, at family reunions, on Caribbean cruises and trips to Seattle. Often exhausted by his dual schedule as a pastor and state senator, he was shown in several pictures having fallen asleep in the back seat of the family car and on a couch while reading to his daughters.
She talked of birthday dinners with their daughters — one was partial to Red Lobster’s shrimp and crab legs — and of the night of the killings, when Ms. Pinckney and a daughter heard the barrage of gunfire while they were waiting at the church.
When Mr. Roof had the opportunity to cross-examine Ms. Pinckney, he said only, “No questions.”
Mr. Roof and his now-sidelined legal team made no effort to contest his guilt across six days of testimony last month, when prosecutors and their witnesses described the killings in gruesome detail.Mr. Roof and his now-sidelined legal team made no effort to contest his guilt across six days of testimony last month, when prosecutors and their witnesses described the killings in gruesome detail.
As Mr. Roof’s approach to the penalty phase and the government’s evidence emerged on Wednesday, the proceedings seemed to be a partial reflection of the defendant’s writings, which investigators gathered after the massacre at Emanuel, the oldest African Methodist Episcopal congregation in the South. In those writings, which include a different journal, an online manifesto and letters to his parents, Mr. Roof railed against African-Americans, condemned psychology as “a Jewish invention,” declared that he had acted alone and made circumscribed expressions of regret, but only for the pain it would cause his family. As Mr. Roof’s approach to the penalty phase and the government’s evidence emerged on Wednesday, the proceedings seemed to be a partial reflection of the defendant’s writings, which investigators gathered after the massacre at Emanuel, the oldest African Methodist Episcopal congregation in the South. In the writings, which include a different journal, an online manifesto and letters to his parents, Mr. Roof railed against African-Americans, condemned psychology as “a Jewish invention,” declared that he had acted alone and made circumscribed expressions of regret, but only for the pain it would cause his family.
At the Bible study, Mr. Roof said almost nothing for nearly 45 minutes as the group of 12 studied the Gospel of Mark. Around 9 p.m., as the parishioners closed their eyes for a final prayer, he removed the Glock .45-caliber semiautomatic pistol he had secreted in a pouch and opened fire. The only explanation he provided to his victims as he methodically gunned them down, according to the testimony of one of the two women who survived the rampage, was, “I have to do this, because y’all are raping our women and y’all are taking over our world.”At the Bible study, Mr. Roof said almost nothing for nearly 45 minutes as the group of 12 studied the Gospel of Mark. Around 9 p.m., as the parishioners closed their eyes for a final prayer, he removed the Glock .45-caliber semiautomatic pistol he had secreted in a pouch and opened fire. The only explanation he provided to his victims as he methodically gunned them down, according to the testimony of one of the two women who survived the rampage, was, “I have to do this, because y’all are raping our women and y’all are taking over our world.”
He first shot Mr. Pinckney, before aiming his handgun at the parishioners who scrambled to hide under tables. Although investigators said Mr. Roof fired more than 70 rounds of hollow-point ammunition during his rampage, he did not shoot everyone at the Bible study.He first shot Mr. Pinckney, before aiming his handgun at the parishioners who scrambled to hide under tables. Although investigators said Mr. Roof fired more than 70 rounds of hollow-point ammunition during his rampage, he did not shoot everyone at the Bible study.
At one point, he approached Polly Sheppard, a retired nurse, and asked whether he had shot her. But he spared few people he met that night. In addition to Mr. Pinckney, who was also a state senator, the victims included the Rev. DePayne Middleton Doctor, 49; Cynthia Hurd, 54; Susie Jackson, 87; Ethel Lee Lance, 70; Tywanza Sanders, 26; the Rev. Daniel Lee Simmons Sr., 74; the Rev. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, 45; and Myra Thompson, 59.
“I said ‘no,’” Ms. Sheppard testified during the guilt phase of Mr. Roof’s trial. “And he said: ‘I’m not going to. I’m going to leave you to tell the story.’” Ms. Pinckney, who had been in the church offices with a daughter when the gunshots began, dialed 911 and waited for the police. Amid the chaos and gunfire, her daughter asked, “Is Daddy going to die?”
He spared few others he met that night. In addition to Mr. Pinckney, who was also a state senator, the victims included the Rev. DePayne Middleton Doctor, 49; Cynthia Hurd, 54; Susie Jackson, 87; Ethel Lee Lance, 70; Tywanza Sanders, 26; the Rev. Daniel Lee Simmons Sr., 74; the Rev. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton, 45; and Myra Thompson, 59. Later that night, Ms. Pinckney told her daughters that their father was gone.
Mr. Roof was arrested the next morning in Shelby, N.C., where he confessed to F.B.I. agents and appeared stunned to learn the grim toll of his rampage.Mr. Roof was arrested the next morning in Shelby, N.C., where he confessed to F.B.I. agents and appeared stunned to learn the grim toll of his rampage.
“I wouldn’t believe you,” Mr. Roof replied after an agent suggested to him that nine people had been killed. “There wasn’t even nine people there. Are you guys lying to me?”“I wouldn’t believe you,” Mr. Roof replied after an agent suggested to him that nine people had been killed. “There wasn’t even nine people there. Are you guys lying to me?”
A federal grand jury indicted Mr. Roof on capital charges that included nine counts of obstruction of exercise of religion by force resulting in death and nine counts of use of a firearm to commit murder during and in relation to a crime of violence. He is also facing a capital prosecution in state court. Mr. Roof, who is also facing a capital prosecution in state court, reluctantly allowed lawyers to represent him during the trial’s guilt phase, but he took control of his defense during jury selection and again on Wednesday for sentencing proceedings. He disregarded Judge Gergel’s warnings that self-representation, permitted under a 1975 ruling by the United States Supreme Court, was “a bad idea,” and he did not reverse his decision before the judge’s deadline.
Mr. Roof reluctantly allowed lawyers to represent him during the trial’s guilt phase, but he took control of his defense during jury selection and again on Wednesday for sentencing proceedings. He disregarded Judge Gergel’s warnings that self-representation, permitted under a 1975 ruling by the United States Supreme Court, was “a bad idea,” and he did not reverse his decision before the judge’s deadline.
Defense lawyers, who had intended to mount a defense rooted in Mr. Roof’s mental health, pointedly resisted his efforts for weeks but, ultimately, were ordered to serve only as standby counsel, a status that allows them to offer guidance but not to make objections or question witnesses.Defense lawyers, who had intended to mount a defense rooted in Mr. Roof’s mental health, pointedly resisted his efforts for weeks but, ultimately, were ordered to serve only as standby counsel, a status that allows them to offer guidance but not to make objections or question witnesses.
Mr. Roof’s plans for them to serve a diminished role had become clear by mid-December, when the lead defense lawyer, David I. Bruck, used his closing argument during the trial’s guilt phase to signal to the jury that Mr. Roof might be mentally troubled. Lacing his presentation, his last to jurors before sentencing, with words like “delusional,” “abnormal” and “irrationality,” Mr. Bruck portrayed Mr. Roof as a loner with no meaningful relationships.Mr. Roof’s plans for them to serve a diminished role had become clear by mid-December, when the lead defense lawyer, David I. Bruck, used his closing argument during the trial’s guilt phase to signal to the jury that Mr. Roof might be mentally troubled. Lacing his presentation, his last to jurors before sentencing, with words like “delusional,” “abnormal” and “irrationality,” Mr. Bruck portrayed Mr. Roof as a loner with no meaningful relationships.
On Wednesday, Mr. Roof suggested that jurors disregard Mr. Bruck’s statements.On Wednesday, Mr. Roof suggested that jurors disregard Mr. Bruck’s statements.
If Mr. Roof is sentenced to death, his case could prompt years of appeals; he is not guaranteed a right of self-representation during those proceedings.