My Journey Towards the Light
By Michael Ross
I am a condemned man on Connecticut's death row. When most people think
of death row inmates, I'm the one that they think of. I'm the worst of the
worst, a man who has raped and mur-dered eight women, assaulted several
others, and stalked and frightened many more. And when I am finally executed,
the vast majority of the people of this state will celebrate my death. Sometimes,
when I close my eyes, I can see the hundreds of people who will gather outside
the prison gates on the night of my execution. I can see them waving placards,
drinking and rejoicing, and I can hear their cheers as my death is officially
announced.
I have lived here on Connecticut's death row for over eight and a half years
now. I live in an eight-by-ten foot unpainted concrete cell for 23 hours
a day-24 hours a day on weekends. I come out for an hour of recreation five
days a week. Other than that, the only other time that I come out is for
a 15-minute shower five days a week, and for the occasional visit (one-half
hour, through glass, on a telephone). I eat all of my meals in my cell,
brought to me in a styrofoam box three times a day. I live in a single cell
so I live alone-and since I can only talk to the two people on either side
of me, I feel quite alone.
One of the results of this almost total isolation is that, after a while,
a person is forced to look at himself. I'm not talking about the cursory,
superficial manner in which most people look at themselves, but rather a
quite painful, unrelenting search of one's very soul.
Many inmates in prison, and many of those on death row, are able to lie
convincingly to themselves, to see themselves as basically good people who
are the innocent victims of a corrupt judicial system or of an unfair and
uncaring society in general. Sometimes it is very difficult to honestly
see ourselves as we truly are, and much easier to blame others as justification
for our actions. I know this to be true because for years this was exactly
what I did. During this period I was angry-so very angry-at everyone and
everything except for the one person I should have been angry with-myself.
It took a very long time-years in fact-for that anger to subside and for
me to begin to accept who I was and what I had become, and even longer before
I was ready and willing to accept responsibility for my actions.
Two things primarily led to this transformation. Much of the credit for
the first goes to a psychiatrist from the Sexual Disorders Clinic at the
Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, Maryland-Dr. Fred Berlin. He diagnosed
me as suffering from a paraphiliac mental disorder and was indispensable
in my fight to get the Department of Correction to acknowledge my disorder
and to treat it with the medication that I now receive. The drug-Depo-Lupron-clears
my mind of the vile and noxious thoughts of rape and murder that plagued
me for so long, and the drug eliminates the previously uncontrollable urges
that drove me to commit the crimes that put me here on death row. That monster
still lives in my head, but the medication has chained him and banished
him to the back of my mind. And while he is still able to mock me, he can
no longer control me-I control him; I am human again.
You cannot begin to imagine what a milestone this was in my life. Try to
imagine a time that a melody or some catchy tune got stuck in your mind,
playing over and over and over again, driving you crazy. The harder you
try to push that tune out of your mind, the louder and more persistent it
becomes. Now try to imagine that instead of a harmless but annoying tune,
you experience filthy and despicable urges, desires, and fantasies of the
degradation, rape, and murder of innocent women. Day in and day out. They
fill your thoughts and fantasies when you are awake. They are in your dreams
when you sleep. Imagine trying to control the urges, day by day, hour by
hour. And try to imagine the self-hatred, loathing and abhorrence that you
develop toward yourself when you fail. If you can imagine this, then you
will have only begun to understand what I have experienced, what I had to
live with, what I had become. And only then will you begin to understand
the true blessing that this medication was to me.
But the medication was only part of the story of my personal transformation.
It gave me back my mind-a clear mind free of malevolent thoughts and urges.
And it allowed my humanity to awaken-giving me back something that I thought
I had lost forever. But this was just the first step, and perhaps the easiest,
for I didn't have to do anything-the medication did it for me. Now began
the more difficult part of my transformation, an examination of myself-a
very profound, very painful, and ongoing examination.
Now that my mind was clear, for the first time I began to see-really see.
It was like a spotlight shining down on me, burning away the mist, exposing
every shadow of my being. I began to see things as they really were. I began
to see things I didn't like. And many of the things that I saw brought me
great anguish.
I saw how weak and afraid I really was-I had always thought that I was strong
and confident. I saw how I had allowed the monster in my mind to take control
of me. I saw what I had become. And worst of all, for the first time, I
saw the pain that I had brought to so many-such great and unceasing pain.
After my eyes were finally opened and I saw the truth of what I had become
and what I had done, I began to feel things-unpleasant, disturbing feelings.
I began to feel the terrible agony and distress that I had brought to so
many: my victims, the families and friends of my victims, my own family.
And I also began to feel the awesome weight of my responsibility for my
actions and of my responsibility to the people that I had harmed. And finally,
I felt a profound sense of guilt. An intense, overwhelming and pervasive
guilt that surrounds my very soul with dark, tormented clouds filled with
a mixture of self-hatred, remorse, regrets, and sorrow. All of which leaves
me with a deep desire to make amends and achieve reconciliation-something
which under the circumstances seems all but impossible.
Yet it is this sense of reconciliation that I yearn for the most. Reconciliation
with the spirit of my victims. Reconciliation with the families and friends
of my victims. And finally, reconciliation with myself and my God. This
will be the final part of my transformation-and undoubtedly the most difficult
part.
I am fortunate to have a good friend and guide for this part of my journey.
A true man of God, Reverend John Gilmartin, who makes a six-hour round trip
drive to see me once a month. I have travelled a great distance and have
gone through quite a transformation since that day when I first set foot
on death row-most of it alone. And I am grateful and thankful to the divine
providence that sent me Reverend Gilmartin. With his help, and if it is
God's will, I will achieve that reconciliation that I so desire, and hopefully
complete my transformation into one who is worthy of redemption and forgiveness.
My journey is still far from over, but at least now I can see that there
is a light at the end of the tunnel-and what a glorious light it is. May
God give me the strength, perseverance, and moral fortitude to complete
my journey and become one with that light.
Michael B. Ross #127404, Death Row-Northern, P.O. Box 665, Somers, CT 06071
Author's note: There is a group of people who firmly believe in this concept
of reconciliation-victim-offender reconciliation and the offender's reconciliation
with society. They stand up for their beliefs and actively promote reformation
and reconciliation over the more politically popular concept of retribution
through execution. For more information about this group, contact Pat Bane,
Director, Murder Victims' Families for Reconciliation, P.O. Box 208, Atlantic,
VA 23303-0208. Or call her at (802) 824-0948.
