The Long Goodbye 
Death Letters
In 1990, Charles Dean Hood was convicted of murder and sentenced to die. Twelve years later he began writing to senior editor Michael Hall. Here, in three of his letters, he describes in extraordinary detail his two decades spent awaiting execution and reveals what it’s like to be taken to Huntsville for the lethal injection only to receive a stay at the last possible minute—not once, but twice.
Yvette Holden says: I think it is disgusting officers stood round celebrating the fact they are about to kill someone! What because they dress it up and call it justice its ok to act in this manner. When you read in court trials the murder took great pleasure he’s a sadistic killer I don’t see why these people in uniforms are any different. This man claims to be innocent so why would he say sorry if he is innocent he’s another victim and if he’s proved innocent how many ’sorry’ will he get? (August 24th, 2009 at 10:35am)
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Going to the Walls
Got out to the visiting room right at 8 am for a visit with my brother James + Sister Cheryll.31 To my surprise, my brother walked in an old familiar face too, a longtime friend, Mr. Terry. I was overjoyed to see my friend, who being from Wisconsin took the Amtrak train all that way to just see me for 2 hours. So we talked awhile, reminisced about old times. He left so my sister could come in the remaining time, cause you’re only allowed 2 people in at a time. As time was going by, we three just broke down. I knew the tears would come, but I actually thought it would be when they said you have 5 minutes left.
I’m not ashamed to shed some tears. It’s my Brother & sister who I love dearly sitting there. And a sense of fear out of the blue came up. But it was quickly extinguished by saying “we got to walk by faith. And one thing we are and that’s believers of ‘Jesus Christ.’” And time was up and we placed our hands on the glass to express our love for one another. Sister started crying again, and they cuffed me.
I watched them walk out, and I was escorted to the bathroom where they strip you down.
One of the Lieutenants broke off the handcuff key, so now the cuffs can’t be removed. There was so many ranking officers gathering over there, laughing. It was appalling, downright disrespectful to stand along the wall there and carry on a laughing mood, knowing a man is considered to be on his way to the Walls Unit. But this isn’t nothing new, it happens all the time. When someone is being taken over to the Walls Unit, the officials shake hands, laugh, and carry on like they are at a ballgame.
Anyway, Major Smith, who I have a great deal of respect for cause he has treated me with respect and like a human being, he told me, “Mr. Hood, I looked at your record while on the row. You don’t cause trouble, so I will assist you within my means and make sure you get what you need, and if you need to speak to me over a matter I’ll handle it.” And Major Smith lives up to his word. He took over the situation with the cuffs, and after 30 minutes they cut it off with some heavy duty bolt cutters. I was then escorted out of there, walking by all the officials who were just carrying on having a good ol’ time. Their faces went blank you could see, some even didn’t want to look me in the eyes. I just walked past them with my head up, and down the side walk to another small cage down the hallway where all my clothes were removed. I went through the protocol of stripping out, where you ran your fingers through your hair, opened your mouth, raised your arms, raised your testicles, turned around, lift your feet up, wiggled your toes, and bent over and spread your butt cheeks. Then you’re given all new clothes and cuffed and escorted up a little ways and then placed in a chair that detects if you have any type of metal in your rectum or in your mouth.
After that display you are asked to get on your knees. And then you’re shackled with leg irons, and a chain belt is raised to go up to the hand cuffs you have in the front.
You are escorted from 12 Building out to a van, placed along with your property in a very small cage, extremely hot too, because it has plexiglas on it, so you aren’t getting none of the air condition that the officers up front are getting for your 45 minute trip to the Walls Unit.32 We drove to the back gate, where we go through the check point and an officer noticed the back left tire was very low, but we went on with it. Two cars showed up. It’s your guarded posse that transfers you over. The drive over was bumpy and hot, but being outside the unit after spending all those years in a concrete cage, just seeing life, everything, people in their everyday routine, stopping at red lights, and seeing people gaze at us, going across the bridge, seeing a boat out on the water was a blessing.
Arriving at the Walls Unit, we went to the back gate. You could tell the unit was extremely old, the architecture designs of the bricks, the old rusty look, etc. The back gate officer asked my TDCJ number and they proceeded to go through the maze of gates to reach the old part of the prison where so many men were executed for so many years.
As you get up to the fence, there’s a brown tarp on the fence, so once you go through the gate you are not seen getting out of the van. You are escorted through a heavy steel door and then over to the far end, where the cuffs, leg irons are removed. You once again go through the strip down routine, get a pair of boxers, are finger printed, and you are then escorted down to a cage.33 You are asked, “Are you going to cause trouble?” several times. A shirt, pants, and socks are given to you to wear. The Warden comes in and goes through the protocol with you. I asked if I could speak. He said, “What is it you have to say, Mr. Hood?” I asked, “Sir, when you come in, could I just lay down and y’all carry me into the room? Cause I don’t want to walk in there.” Warden said, “We will do whatever you want, Mr. Hood.”
Mr. Lopez, the Head Chaplain over all the units, was there with me. We go back a long time. I met him at Ellis Unit. A wonderful man, highly respected by a lot of us. Me & Mr. Lopez spoke and held hands and prayed together. He got me some tea, and the tea over there is so good. Nothing like you get here. Very sweet and 8 cups just wasn’t enough. I was stressed and nervous to say the least. A tray of desserts were on a table in front of the cell. I noticed one thing, a pastry called empanadas (a Mexican pie). I asked Mr. Lopez for one of them.
I used the phone to call my parents, my brother James, sister Cheryll, and two dear friends, Sylvia and Mr. Terry, who were over at the Hospitality House.34 I was on the speak phone praying with them. Sister Cheryll is a woman of great Christian faith, and always standing firm in the faith and love of “God” through “Jesus Christ.” I was calling everyone I had a phone number to. I was told I could use the phone up till 5:15 pm so I wanted to try and speak to everyone to encourage them and not worry but walk by faith. I called a dear friend Debbie, who assisted me with a three way, cause they only allow you to call within the United States. So I spoke to her, and she said, you want to call Nicole, who lives in Canada. Heck yeah! So! I called her, first got her answering machine, and she picked up, was crying, probably just sitting on the sofa and was thinking about me, and we surprised her.
I called my parents and the food showed up about 4:00, I think. I ordered 2 7 oz steaks, 7 sunny side up eggs, with a bowl of Jalapeño peppers and a glass of ice and 4 milks, and a pint of Vanilla ice cream.35 But I just sat there on the phone talking to my parents, and I couldn’t eat it. I just didn’t have the stomach to eat it. It smelled good, looked good but I just couldn’t eat it. Just kept drinking the tea. I continued to talk with family, friends, and my attorney Mr. Ellis.36
Then came the good news. I got a stay.37 I jumped up with joy in my heart, praised ‘God,’ got down on my knees, prayed, and just felt joy all over. Me and Mr. Lopez were very happy. He said he was going over to see James, and then the process of bringing me back started. I was cuffed and put back in the van. We started back to Polunsky Unit. We got to the back gate, where we stayed until the other two cars could arrive. One of the officers came back to the door and said, “Well, Hoss, got to take you back.” I kept praying, Please “God” don’t let this happen, please don’t let these people execute me.
The stress level went up, and we got back to the death house. Went back through the process and was placed back in the cell. Mr. Lopez showed back up, and I was shaking like crazy. I asked to call my attorney. Mr. Ellis picked up, explained what was going on.38 I told him not to give up, please don’t give up. I couldn’t stop shaking. I continued to pray hard, even calling over to the Hospitality House and being placed on the speaker phone and praying with my sister Cheryll and brother, Sylvia and Mr. Terry. Mr. Lopez would come over to read bible verses to me, to let me know its ok.
Hours went by. It was 10 pm. Still attorneys battled back-n-forth with the courts.39 Stress levels continued to go up. I remember my sister said tic clock tick, expressing that if 12 o’clock rolled around, they couldn’t execute me. I didn’t even want to know what time it was. So much was running through my mind. Was I scared, or just my nerves shot? I can say they were shot.
Called Mr. Ellis again. It was after 11 pm then, and he said the Supreme Court turned down my issues before them.40 At 11:30 my brother was called to come over to the prison. Every time the phone rang it got tense. I called Cheryll once again. Mr. Lopez held my hand.
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