About 60 people gathered outside the St. Louis County Court Building for what was promoted as a “Storytelling Vigil for Kevin Johnson.” Johnson was convicted in the 2005 murder of Kirkwood police Sgt. William McEntee. His execution is scheduled for next week on Nov. 29, 2022.
On a night that broke from the extremely cold weather of recent days, many who attended the vigil expressed various and differing reasons for their presence.
“If he (Parson) does not grant clemency, I hope my father’s name never goes away and I hope he knows we’ll still continue to fight for him.”-Kevin Johnson’s daughter, Khorry Ramey
Standing stoically outside the crowd’s parameters, a stocky young man who identified himself simply as “Yancey,” had a hard time containing his outrage. With Adele’s song “Rise Up” playing in the background, Yancy talked about the unfairness of the death penalty.
“These are random times…the world is cruel,” Yancy said quietly. “You know, everybody makes mistakes and at a young age, he (Johnson) wasn’t in the right frame of mind, you know, because he was dealing with Bam Bam’s death and all.”
He referred to Johnson’s then 12-year-old brother, Joseph “Bam Bam” Long. According to court testimony, Johnson said he was enraged when he learned that police-intent on searching his relative’s house for him-failed to offer timely medical assistance for his little brother who suffered a heart attack and died hours before Johnson killed McEntee.
There was a sense of finality among many in the crowd. Some expressed hope that the vigil would attract the attention of Gov. Mike Parson and lead him to change Johnson’s sentence from death to a lifetime in prison. But others seemed to be there in protest of the death penalty in general.
A 25-year-old woman who wished to remain anonymous said she attended the vigil out of respect for people she “admires and love” who are opposed to the death penalty.
“I care that people aren’t murdered,” the young lady said. Still, she hopes the vigil will inspire future and possible immediate results regarding death sentencing.
“I hope long-term this draws attention to the death penalty and hope it’s abolished completely,” she stressed, adding: “Short term, I hope this effort helps to grant clemency for KJ and his family and for his loved ones to get some sort of peace and justice.”
Keisha Kandeh, owner of “The Woke Brand,” a clothing store in the St. Louis Galleria Mall, echoed similar thoughts about the death penalty and why she attended the vigil.
“I’m here because of an inaccurate law based on race,” Kandeh stressed. “I showed up in support of abolishing a law that is biased as hell. This young man has seven days left to live his life. The reality surrounding that is just like…wow!”
Kandeh said she has little hope that the vigil will impact an issue she has spent her “entire life” wanting to see change. However, she said she does hold out hope that God will “find a way to bring peace” to those connected to all who face execution.
“If God can bring understanding beyond the world and peace to our hearts and love, no matter what…well, this vigil might help us all end on that kind of hope.”
Sharon Kerry who grew up in Meacham Park where Johnson lived before the murder, said she was there out of her own convictions and oppositions.
“First of all, I don’t believe in the death penalty. I don’t believe in an eye-for-an eye…I just don’t,” Kerry said, adding advice to Gov. Parson.
“Let him (Johnson) do the rest of his time in jail…don’t kill him,” Kerry pleaded.
Michelle Smith, Director of Community Engagement and Outreach for Missourians for Alternatives to the Death Penalty (MADPO) said her group organized the event to use storytelling to bring attention to Johnson’s life that of his family and how prosecutorial misconduct in St. Louis County has adversely affected other individuals and families.
A recent report by the University of North Carolina underscored that “the likelihood that a death sentence would be imposed in St. Louis County was 3.5 times greater if the victim was white, as compared to cases in which the victim was Black.”
Corey Wright, whose artist’s name is “Corey Black” is the lead organizer for “Black Men Build,” a group for Black men interested in community organizing and positive social change. Holding a hand-painted banner that read: “We’re going to defend Us,” Black also voiced his opposition to the death penalty and said Johnson’s case serves as a reminder to all, especially young Black men, of the casualties of black life.
“St. Louis is a dangerous, violent place to live,” Black said. “You’re going to be faced with a lot of adversities and decision-making that-if you don’t have the proper education to know what to do in the moment and in certain circumstances-you might make a decision from a primal state.”
Referring to the banner, Black turned to the reality of living with deadly police repression in communities of color.
“It (the banner) basically says that if we’re going to be prosecuted for being black, we’re going to also defend ourselves for being black. The system is designed to send us to death, so we have to be aware and be prepared to make decisions out here so you won’t wind up fighting for your life.”
Kevin Johnson’s daughter, Khorry Ramey, who was 2 when her father killed McEntee also attended the vigil. Even behind bars, Ramey said she and her father have been connected throughout her life. She said she came to the vigil to thank those who attended and to tell everyone how much she appreciates their support.
Yet, there seemed to be subtle resignation in Ramey’s voice. Perhaps it was because Johnson’s final appeal for clemency was coldly crushed by St. Louis County Presiding Judge Mary Elizabeth Ott, last week.
A sliver of hope remains because Johnson’s attorneys have filed a motion with the Missouri Supreme Court to delay the execution. The date set for oral arguments is on Nov. 28, just one day before Johnson’s execution is set to take place.
Ramey, who still holds out hope that Parson will grant clemency for her father also seemed prepared for the worst-case scenario.
“If he (Parson) does not grant clemency, I hope my father’s name never goes away and I hope he knows we’ll still continue to fight for him.”
Sylvester Brown Jr. is The St. Louis American’s inaugural Deaconess Fellow.
