A clip from a 1981 Playboy article by Bill Helmer titled “The Ordeal of Larry Hicks” details Hicks’ and his defense attorney Nile Stanton’s qu…
Defense attorney Nile Stanton was on his way out of the Indiana State Prison in Michigan City in May 1979, prepared to hop in his new Jaguar and drive back to his home in Indianapolis when he heard a voice address him from behind.
“Sir … sir,” the man said, according to Stanton. “Are you Nile Stanton?”
In hindsight, Stanton said, he should have asked the man how he knew his name. But he didn’t. He just stood and listened.
“I’m on X row,” Stanton recalled Larry Hicks saying. “I didn’t do it. They said I killed two men, but I didn’t do it.”
Stanton said he’d never heard the term before, but he knew what Hicks meant. Hicks was scheduled to be executed two weeks from the date he ran into Stanton for a 1978 Gary double stabbing. Stanton said he asked Hicks if he had a lawyer working on an appeal; Hicks said no.
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Shocked, Stanton said he agreed to examine Hicks’ case. He said he discovered Hicks’ public defender failed to defend his client.
“He didn’t do his job,” Stanton said. “He didn’t investigate the case, interview witnesses or present any evidence.”
Hicks was granted a new trial in 1980 on the grounds of mental incompetency and ineffective trial counsel. At Hicks’ second trial, one witness recanted her previous testimony. Stanton’s investigation showed the “blood stains” on Hicks’ pants were actually from rust. The knife that had been taken into evidence wasn’t actually the knife used in the crime; a coroner who examined measurements on the body compared with the measurements of the knife in evidence said the wounds were made with a much longer, narrower blade. Stanton said he was floored.
“The death penalty is so flawed that we shouldn’t have it. We shouldn’t risk it,” Stanton said. “We almost had an innocent man executed. And that is unacceptable.”
In the 47 years since the death penalty was reinstated in Indiana, a total of 22 people have been executed, according to the Indiana Public Defender’s Council. Of the 97 death sentences that have been imposed, 60 of those sentences have been commuted, reversed or dismissed. No one has been executed in Indiana since 2009, and the state did not request to have any execution dates set for one of their nine death row individuals.
That is, until late June. Gov. Eric Holcomb and Attorney General Todd Rokita released a statement in which they requested the Indiana Supreme Court set a date for the execution of Fort Wayne man Joseph Corcoran, who was convicted in 1999 of four counts of murder for the July 26, 1997, shooting deaths of his brother, James Corcoran, 30, Robert Scott Turner, 32, Douglas A. Stillwell, 30, and Timothy G. Bricker, 30. Corcoran has exhausted all his appeals.
Joseph Corcoran was convicted in 1999 in a quadruple murder in Fort Wayne and sentenced to death. Last month, Gov. Eric Holcomb and Attorney G…
One day prior to the statement’s release, The Times reported Kevin Isom, 58, the only person from Lake County who is on death row, exhausted his state appeals. His next step, if he chooses, is to appeal to federal courts.
Isom was convicted in 2014 of the 2007 murder of his wife, Cassandra, 40, his stepson, Michael Moore, 16, and his stepdaughter, Ci’Andria Cole, 13. A possible motive for the killings, prosecutors argued at trial, was that he had lost his job about a month before and he and his wife were having marital problems. A jury recommended the death penalty.
Kevin Isom was sentenced to death in 2013 for the murder of his wife and stepchildren. His case is pending appeals in federal court.
Provided
Death sentences have been infrequently requested and carried out in the last 20 years, attorneys say, for numerous reasons. The option of life without parole sentences, the advent of DNA testing that could exonerate a defendant and the high bar that must be met to prosecute a death penalty case have made the practice rare, but not impossible.
The history of the death penalty in NWI
The death penalty was reinstated in Indiana in 1977 after the U.S. Supreme Court granted a moratorium in 1972.
Former Lake County prosecutor Jack Crawford took office in 1978. He said he sought the death penalty on approximately 25 cases. Of those cases, the request was granted in about 20 and the defendants were sentenced to death 17 of those times.
“It was such a different time,” Crawford said. “Lake County was a hotbed of crime. The people wanted it. Once we presented the cases to the juries, more often than not (they) would vote for the death penalty.”
Only one individual, William Vandiver, was actually executed. Vandiver was sentenced to death in 1985 for stabbing his father-in-law, 65-year-old Paul Komyatti, in 1983 inside Komyatti’s Hammond home.
Thomas Vanes, who was prosecutor at the time and now serves as Lake County’s assistant chief public defender, tried many high-profile death penalty cases, including Vandiver’s. After Vandiver’s conviction, his electric chair execution was carried out quickly because Vandiver chose not to appeal the sentence, Vanes said, which is unusual. The execution was botched, however, and it took “a long while” to execute Vandiver. Three series of electrical jolts were administered to Vandiver, whereas one should have been enough.
Vanes said nine of the cases he prosecuted himself resulted in death sentences. Other than Vandiver, the sentences were ultimately commuted.
“If you look at it from a cold-cost benefit point of view, one execution is a pretty poor return on investment,” Vanes said. “I don’t think the world is worse off because they were not executed.”
Vanes recalls the case of Alton Coleman, who was sentenced to death in 1986 in Indiana for the kidnap, rape and murder of Tamika Turks, 7, of Gary, while on a killing spree across three states. He was sentenced to death in Indiana and Ohio and was executed in April 2002 at an Ohio prison with the Indiana death sentence hanging over his head.
Vanes also prosecuted Coleman’s girlfriend and accomplice, Debra D. Brown, who also faced the death penalty in the Ohio and Indiana for her role in the murders. An Ohio governor commuted her sentence to life in prison without parole in 1991, citing her low IQ. In 2019, the Lake County prosecutor’s office withdrew their longstanding request to execute Brown. They cited a 2003 decision by the U.S. Supreme Court that prohibits executions of anyone who is intellectually disabled.
One of the most highly-publicized death penalty cases was that of Paula Cooper, who, in 1985 at age 16, stabbed 78-year-old Ruth Pelke 33 times in Pelke’s Gary home and robbed her.
Paula Cooper was 16 years old when she was sentenced to death for the brutal stabbing murder of Ruth Pelke, 78. After having her sentence redu…
Cooper’s sentence was controversial due to her age. After a 1988 Supreme Court decision prohibited the execution of anyone who was under 16 and an argument from her attorneys that her crimes were influenced by a traumatic and abusive upbringing, the Indiana Supreme Court commuted her sentence to 60 years in prison in 1989. She was released from prison in 2013 but died by suicide two years later.
Additionally, Pelke’s grandson, Bill, became known for his opposition to Cooper’s death sentence and spent much of his life campaigning against the death penalty before he died in 2020.
Bill Pelke, a former Region steelworker turned anti-death penalty activist following the 1985 murder of his grandmother in Gary.
As the 1990s approached, Indiana’s capital landscape changed significantly for a number of reasons, Vanes said.
The cost of a life
The advent of DNA testing in the late 1980s helped definitively connect criminals to crime scenes and showed mistakes that previously went undiscovered for years.
“It revealed, for everybody, that the criminal justice system was far more fallible than it assumed itself to be,” Vanes said.
In 1992, Indiana enacted Criminal Rule 24, which is now known as Criminal Rule 6, according to a 2023 order from the Indiana Supreme Court. The rule laid out very specific requirements for compensation for attorneys in death penalty cases and the appeals process. It also required the Indiana Public Defender’s Commission to reimburse counties 50% of what they spent on death penalty cases, according to the Indiana Public Defender’s Council.
Vanes said this incentivized the county to work these cases harder. While it freed them from the constraints of judge-imposed limits on what could be spent per case, the cases became more complicated because it was harder to get the money to work the cases as thoroughly as the state wanted, given the permanency of a death sentence.
“Judges had pretty much absolute authority on what they could spend,” Vanes said. “Now, there was more of an open-ended authorization to do what was necessary.”
In 1993, the Indiana General Assembly authorized life without parole as a sentencing option in death penalty cases. In 1994, prosecutors were permitted to request this without having to ask for the death penalty.
The average death penalty case costs $789,581, which includes a jury trial, defense attorney expenses, incarceration and execution, according to the Indiana Public Defender’s Council. The average life without parole case costs $185,422.
A case is only eligible for the death penalty in Indiana if it is a murder. There has to be an underlying aggravating factor, which could include the commission of murder during another crime, such as a rape, robbery or kidnapping. Public opinion and the wishes of the victim’s family play a large role, attorneys said.
Following trial, a jury will decide whether or not the death penalty will be imposed based on the evidence. After the defendant is sentenced, they often go through the appeals process, which is lengthy and arduous.
“The death penalty got so onerous in its use,” Crawford said. “People got tired of all the delays. It’s not unusual for a case to last 15 to 20 years. I think the public soured of the idea to effect justice in that sense.”
A life or death decision
Northwest Indiana prosecutors have seldom applied or requested the death penalty over the last 10-plus years. Lake County Prosecutor Bernard Carter’s office requested the death penalty for Carl Blount, who was charged with the murder of Gary police Officer Jeffrey Westerfield in 2014. Blount took a plea deal and was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.
Serial killer Darren Vann pleaded guilty in 2018 to the murders of seven women in 2014. Prosecutors had sought the death penalty against him. He was also sentenced to life without parole.
Porter County Prosecutor Gary Germann said he has not filed any death penalty requests since he took office in 2019. He recalled the first death penalty case he worked as a defense attorney was that of William “Billy” Harmon, who raped and murdered a 19-year-old in 1989.
“You have this whole responsibility that the decisions you’re going to make impacts whether someone lives or dies,” Germann said.
Harmon ultimately took a 280-year prison term as part of a plea deal. In exchange, prosecutors dropped their request for the death penalty. Germann said as a prosecutor, he evaluates the facts of every case that comes to his desk in which the death penalty is on the table.
“We evaluate on a case-by-case basis,” Germann said. “We would be consulting with multiple parties on this — the county council, the community, law enforcement.”
Carter offered a similar sentiment.
“The death penalty is reserved for the most severe and reprehensible crimes, and its application reflects the gravity of such offenses,” Carter said. “I understand the complexities and sensitivities surrounding capital punishment. Our office ensures that any case involving the death penalty is handled with the highest standards of legal integrity.”
Anti-death penalty advocates posted a sign in July 2009 outside the Indiana State Prison where the Indiana’s last execution of a person on dea…
Despite the heinous nature of capital crimes, many attorneys do not believe the death penalty is the best solution. It likely doesn’t work as a deterrent for criminals, defense attorney Scott King said, and it’s so permanent that if an issue arose in the future that could be appealable, there’s no way to reconcile it.
“If we execute defendant A, then defendant B and C might think twice,” defense attorney Scott King said. “I just don’t think that equation works in real life.”
More than six years after King’s client Alan Matheney was executed by lethal injection for the brutal 1989 murder of his ex-wife, Lisa Bianco, King said he received a letter from the FBI.
In the letter, King learned one of the trial witnesses, a supposed expert who did hair comparisons, had been deemed an improper witness 30 years after the trial. This individual’s techniques were being reevaluated, according to the letter.
This could have been an issue brought up in an appeal of Matheney’s death sentence. Part of the analysis would be, King said, if this was a harmless error or if it could have made a difference in the jury’s verdict.
The FBI asked in the letter if King wanted to do anything with that information.
“There was nothing I could do,” King said. “Mr. Matheney was already deceased.”
Vanes said he doesn’t oppose the death penalty on a “theoretical basis” but believes it is impractical given the room for error.
“I do not believe there are any humans ever born who can administer a death penalty system on an error-free basis,” Vanes said. “There is no way you can have a death penalty system that reaches the right cases.”
Crawford, now a defense attorney in Indianapolis, said while he served as prosecutor his job was to support a jury’s decision.
“Looking back on it, I have different feelings,” Crawford said. “But being the elected prosecutor, my job was to represent the feelings of the people, and the people wanted the death penalty back in the ’80s.”
Indiana State Prison in Michigan City is where Death Row prisoners are housed and where capital punishment is administered. Since the death penalty was reinstated in 1977, 20 inmates have been executed.
Provided
Corcoran’s attorneys filed a motion in response to Rokita’s request in which they asked to halt the execution on the grounds that Corcoran is severely mentally ill. In the motion, attorneys wrote he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and that evidence presented at trial supports their claim he suffered from delusions and hallucinations at the time of the murders, and that his mental illness has worsened since his incarceration.
A 1994 Supreme Court decision forbids the execution of anyone with an intellectual disability, but there are no laws in Indiana prohibiting the execution of those with mental illness.
Isom’s attorneys have brought up similar arguments in his case. They argue that Isom allegedly suffered from memory loss during the murders and had limited cognitive function. They wrote in Supreme Court briefs that his trial attorneys failed to adequately present this as evidence against a death sentence. The Indiana Supreme Court, however, has disagreed with these claims.
Until their sentences are commuted, a judge agrees to grant them relief or they are ultimately executed, Corcoran and Isom remain on death row.
GALLERY: The Times Photos of the Week
Thousands see Marshmello perform at the Festival of the Lakes Saturday, July 20 in Hammond.
John J. Watkins, The Times
The crowd is excited as they wait to see Marshmello perform at the Festival of the Lakes Saturday in Hammond.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Jaxon Walters, 11, left, and Noah Boren, 7, wait to see see Marshmello perform at the Festival of the Lakes Saturday in Hammond.
John J. Watkins, The Times
A “ghost bike” memorial has been placed at the 73rd Avenue/Lackawanna Trail crossing in Schererville in honor of a cyclist that was killed there recently.
John J. Watkins, The Times
A bright yellow sign posted in the middle of the crosswalk on 73rd Avenue warns motorists of a state law to yield to pedestrians. Not all vehicles obey it. It’s one of the more dangerous intersections on that north-south trail because most vehicles are likely unaware of that crosswalk until they get to it.
John J. Watkins
A “ghost bike” memorial has been placed at the 73rd Avenue/Lackawanna Trail crossing in Schererville in honor of a cyclist that was killed there recently.
John J. Watkins
Thousands see Marshmello perform at the Festival of the Lakes Saturday in Hammond.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Thousands see Marshmello perform at the Festival of the Lakes Saturday, July 20 in Hammond.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Brent Wilson, center, was approved as Hammond schools’ interim superintendent by the school board on Tuesday.
Adrian Martinez-De La Cruz, The Times
Gary Mayor Eddie Melton, backed by the crumbling City Methodist Church, addresses reporters at a July 23 press conference.
Alex Dalton
The Holy Rollers perform at this year’s Pierogi Fest.
John J. Watkins, The Times
A parade tradition, children chase after candy at this year’s Pierogi Fest Parade.
John J. Watkins, The Times
“Ben”, owned by Joe Slomka of South Chicago, is attending his first Pierogi Fest Parade.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Congressman Frank Mrvan joins the Lawnmower Brigade at this year’s Pierogi Fest Parade.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Emily Oschmann visits this year’s Pierogi Fest from Waterford, Wisconsin.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Bob and Maryann Jakubielski dance to the music of the EZ Tones at this year’s Pierogi Fest.
John J. Watkins, The Times
The Babushkas pose for photos at this year’s Pierogi Fest.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Claret Garcia prepares polish sausage from M.J. Polish Deli at this year’s Pierogi Fest.
John J. Watkins, The Times
Pierogi cook at this year’s Pierogi Fest.
John J. Watkins, The Times
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