DARK SKIES
By S.R. Smith
Duty Call
Fall 1979, had arrived in Oklahoma. Late autumn colors painted the landscape into a view of the West of old. Having lived the majority of my life growing up on the east coast, the open rocky landscape brought forth memories of Western movies, portraying lawmen on horseback, chasing desperados. Although technically not “Big Sky Country” Oklahoma was another world away from my home roots.
Weather and wind was one definite factor making me understand the many differences between Oklahoma and Tallahassee, Florida, home to my alma mater, Florida State University. Being able to stand still, and have the
wind push me across the icy parking lot at Bureau Headquarters, was but one of the many contrasts. Transitioning from a college student to a State Bureau Agent was not only welcome but a relief. Day to day life as a student had been in contrast to my soul. Soldiering was more fitting and now being a Bureau Agent my quest to recapture my purpose was underway.
The telephone call from Inspector Abernathy came late in the evening. A second call from the Inspector was to insure I had not drifted back to sleep. The words “major homicide” echoed, as I rushed to dress and gather my gear. After picking up Abernathy he briefed me on what he knew. Okarche was the town we drove towards and the Douglass family home was our destination. Reverend Richard Douglass and his wife Marilyn were dead, and both their children, son Brooks and daughter Lesley, had sustained multiple gunshot wounds. Preliminary information indicated that both children were currently receiving emergency medical care and that their condition was critical.
Arrival at the Douglass home was surreal. Uniformed Okarche police, along with Canadian County Sheriff Deputies had secured the outer perimeter. As Abernathy and I entered the home my first observation was a dining room table neatly set for dinner. A pitcher of iced tea was prominent and placed settings for four persons. The dining area was connected to the kitchen at one end, and to the side opened into the living room. As I moved into the living room prominent was the blood stained carpet, where the Douglass family had been laying when shot. From the patterns of blood it was apparent all four had been in a prone position when the shots had been fired. Evidence observed also indicated that they had been restrained by rope ties around the wrists and ankles.
Extensive examination of the stained carpet revealed several 38 cal bullets that had evidently passed through the bodies and penetrated the carpet. Initial observation of the bullets recovered disclosed that the ammunition was a 38 cal “wadcutter” standardly used for target practice. As I along with Abernathy moved from one area of the home to another the “horror” of what had occurred was coming into full focus. Once inside the bedroom belonging to the Douglasse’s daughter Lesley, red flares ignited.
Strewn about the bed was an assortment of stuffed animals in various sizes. The decor within the room accompanied by the bed cover and sheets amplified a young girls room. Initial information provided revealed that the Douglases daughter was fourteen. Apparent body fluid stains, pale red in color, told the tale of a trauma occurring. A tube of suntan lotion was nearby completing the picture clearly spelling sexual assault. Anger was slowly boiling into rage mandating a “mental moment” to adjust to what I was seeing. Focus and concentration became the goal as we traversed into other bedrooms of the home.
Drawers and closet doors were open giving the appearance of someone having rummaged through the contents. Within a short time, Abernathy informed me that the car utilized by the killers had been stolen in Enid, OK. Instructions were received to locate and interview the owner. As I left the Douglass home I felt some relief. Temporarily escaping the horror of what I had seen was followed by the drawing of a deep breath. Getting into my car allowed my mind to catch up, and focus was now on finding the owner of the vehicle used by the killers.
Two hours elapsed before arriving in Enid, and the Garfield County Sheriff’s Office coming into view. Introduction to the owner of the “getaway” vehicle immediately resulted in the identification of both outlaws responsible for the carnage at the Douglass Residence. Oil field workers, Glen Burton Ake and his companion Steven Keith Hatch, were now the center of the Bureau’s investigation. Unexpected good fortune arrived once the getaway vehicle’s owner told the tale of a 38 caliber pistol being owned by Ake. A gift from above arrived upon the owner relating the story of Ake and Hatch using the pistol for target practice.
It was pitch black when we arrived at the intersection of two farm roads outside of Enid. Led to the location by the car’s owner, we waited until the sun started to rise. First light brought the discovery of a large wood corner post that was used as a backstop for our outlaws pistol practice. Initial examination resulted in the recovery of a single bullet wedged between two strands of twisted barbed wire. Subsequent digging into the post resulted in the recovery of several more bullets. As I examined the recovered bullets immediate identification as “wad cutters” was made. Once the recovered bullets were labeled and secured, the race to Oklahoma City was on.
The Bureau’s firearms examiner, Tom Jordan, was awaiting my arrival. Tom already had in his possession wadcutter bullets that had been recovered from the Douglass home. Within a short time telescopic examination and comparison of the bullets resulted in Tom saying “you got them”. Good fortune for now we had the names of the outlaw murderers and enough probable cause to charge both with two counts of murder. Entries were made into the National Crime Information Center (NCIC) and the manhunt was underway.
Cold Trail
A day or so elapsed and the “getaway car” utilized by Ake and Hatch was discovered in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. Forensic personnel from OSBI Headquarters along with investigative Agents scrambled. Processing the vehicle for potential evidence was completed, and other investigative efforts disclosed that our two desperados were now traveling east on a Greyhound Bus. Another late night phone call from Inspector Abernathy was short and direct. “We are sending you and Troy Leathers after the killers”. Meet Me and Director Kenendy at Headquarters as soon as possible. Side note received “pack for a trip”.
A sure fire mission had now started. Early arrival at HQ allowed for a short conversation with Abernathy. I had met Troy previously but we did not know each other well. Abernathy’s words resounded “If gunplay is encountered you can depend on Leathers”. Short discussion with the Director and we were exiting the parking lot at HQ. As we drove onto Interstate 40 east we both knew returning to Oklahoma would not happen until we had both killers in tow.
Information gleaned from witnesses in Ft. Smith indicated that our outlaws had purchased tickets to Memphis, TN. Merely traveling I — 40 east to Memphis, wasn’t going to work on this manhunt. Greyhound buses routinely travel major routes but are notorious for making stops at small and large towns along the way. Each scheduled stop had to be investigated in an effort to ensure our fugitives remained on their bus until their arrival in Memphis. Troy and I were able to conduct contact interviews, to determine if in fact Ake and his accomplice Hatch, remained on the bus after each stop. At times this mandated waking bus employees up along with local residents, as well as law enforcement representatives. Fortunately the respective ticket agents could usually confirm they did in fact continue to the final destination of Memphis.
Introduction to J.D. Music, Captain, Memphis Police Department was memorable. Captain Music was an old school lawman with a reputation to match. His manner and presence commanded respect and after making his acquaintance Troy and I knew we were in good hands. Introduction to Detectives assigned to vice, resulted in discovering that Capt. Music had already tasked them to assist in locating our Oklahoma bad guys. Within hours, our vice partners notified us that two sources had been located, that had in fact seen our outlaws. Interesting, was that both sources were “ladies of the night”. They not only spent the night with Ake and his partner but they also “robbed them” when they parted company. Investigative leads were then discovered wherein our fugitives were once again traveling on Greyhound. Destination was determined to be New Orleans, La. and as it had been previously, Troy and I set the course.
Exhausted, we drove into New Orleans and searched for the Greyhound station. Strange reactions occurred when potential witnesses were shown wanted posters, bearing photographs of Ake and Hatch, accompanied by their physical descriptions. Strange turned to curiosity once Troy and I displayed our Oklahoma Bureau Badges. Considering our attire, wrangler jeans, H bar C cowboy shirts, and Larry Mahan boots, confusion was common. Adding to the old west scene, we both had a leather holster on our belt, securing our 4 inch Smith and Wesson pistols. Increasing the mystique, was the extra leather ammo holder positioned next to our holsters. “Strange” and “confusing” worked in our favor for within a short time, confirmation came that both of our fugitives had in fact terminated their travel in Mardi Gras Town.
A phone call back to OSBI Headquarters allowed the opportunity to update Inspector Abernathy regarding our bad guys location. Information received back disclosed Ake and Hatch were now listed on the F.B.I. ‘s infamous “Ten Most Wanted” list. A short drive to F.B.I.’s New Orleans Office followed. As Troy and I entered, introductions were made to the “Special Agent in Charge”. An arrogant and pompous attitude soon emerged and Troy and I immediately knew a “big mistake” had occurred.
After briefing the SAC on our findings, he quickly picked up the phone and called the Greyhound Bus Station. Once connected to “our star witness”, who had confirmed that Ake and Hatch had in fact left the bus and exited the terminal , the SAC raised his voice and rudely explained to our witness that she should have called the F.B.I. immediately. After hanging up he turned to Troy and I, informing us that the Bureau had “seventy Agents assigned” to New Orleans and that “they could certainly handle” the capture of our Oklahoma fugitives.
As we exited the Bureau’s office I uttered “jack ass” and Troy followed by “we should have known better”. Once settled into our nights lodging another call was placed to our headquarters. After connecting with Inspector Abernathy we provided a short brief along with the motel and phone number where we could be reached. Uncharistically Abernathy concluded the call by saying “F.Y.I. , the New Orleans FBI has already filed a complaint reference you and Troy being out of your jurisdiction” and concluded with a “be careful.”
Two to three days elapsed as Troy and I canvassed the Bus Terminal area. As we queried bars, restaurants, motel employees and customers for potential “location information” on our killers, our circle distance from the bus terminal grew. Late night discussions centered on “where would they go”? A merging of common sense and investigative experience spelled “oil field job”. Offshore oil operations in Louisiana were abundant and as such drew our focus. Days grew into weeks as we scrambled from one major offshore platform to another. Between such excursions we scoured land based oil operations not only in Louisiana but in Alabama and north west Florida. Outlaws were identified however our desperados remained illusive.
Finally sun rays shined and promising information placed Troy and I in Escambia County Alabama. Late night discussions with the local Sheriff were priceless. Information shared disclosed that our killers were possibly working nearby. Plans to raid the suspected drilling location were agreed on and “sunrise” became the designated kickoff time. As our good Sheriff announced he “was late for dinner” he added “you boys are welcome to spend the night”. Departing comment nailed our accommodations down for he then instructed a prisoner Trustee to feed us and show us our bunks.
Sunrise came early. Over coffee, our new friend the Sheriff, mentioned “if we end up killing these guys” I want you boys to “take them both out of my county”. As I looked at Troy I realized he had already nodded his head in acknowledgement. Exhaustion and major fatigue factored in, and as we drove towards the drilling platform, I quietly pondered driving back to Oklahoma with two dead outlaws. Disappointment arrived quickly for once fully identified our oil worker turned out to be a top notch “look alike” for Ake our Oklahoma murderer. Down but not for the count, Troy and I set course back to New Orleans.
An early morning call from Inspector Abernathy relayed a message for Troy to contact the U.S. Attorney in Oklahoma City. Call made by Troy, notified him that his testimony was critical on a drug case he had previously been involved in. Three weeks had elapsed since we had set out after our fugitives. Now conversation was limited, for failure was difficult to digest, and no amount of “we tried hard” could cushion the blow.
Remount
A week had elapsed since our return to Oklahoma City. Troy had now completed his required witness duty and the U.S. Attorney signed off on his release. Word swiftly came that we were again going after our illusive outlaws. Best and latest information indicated that our efforts would need to focus once again on Louisiana. Anticipating no assistance from the FBI, Inspector Abernathy initiated contact with the Louisiana State Police, Headquarters in Lafayette. A point of contact was identified and Troy and I once again set course.
As we drove S.E. from Oak City, Troy placed a picture of Glen Ake on his sun visor. Following suit, Steven Hatch’s mugshot was placed on my visor. Discussion was not needed for Troy and I both fully understood our mission. Silent determination and resolve would be our salvation, capture of two bad men would be our redemption.
Arrival in Lafayette was late afternoon. Within no time Troy and I were introduced to two Louisiana State Troopers who had been designated to assist. Neither one of us fully understood our good fortune. Keno Muton and Ferdie Miller, true enough Cajuns, were now our shadow partners. Both solid Lawmen, bringing experience and familiarity to their home turf, that we had not previously had access to. Quick introductions were followed by recommendations on accommodations and an invitation to meet for dinner.
Once settled at the table drinks were served. Initial conversation centered on Troy and I relating details not only about the “Douglass Family” homicide, but also the weeks previously spent chasing the murderers. A full course of genuine Cajun cuisine, to include crawfish and gator tail, was then served. Surprise arrived when Keno introduced us to the restaurant’s owner, and we were informed that dinner and our drinks were “on him”. Plans were then formulated and early the following day the hunt was again on.
Travel back to New Orleans was anticipated, however a side trip was encountered. Keno, having previously served on the Governor’s personal security detail, wanted to stop at the Mansion. Unbeknown to Troy and I we were about to be personally introduced to Governor Edwin Edwards. As we entered the office, Governor Edwards greeted us with a welcome to Lousianna then jokingly said “you boys need to be careful running with Keno”. Taken back slightly, Troy and I managed to tell the Governor that it was an honor to meet him. As we left his office the Governor told us both to “say hello to George”, when we returned to Oklahoma. After clearing the Mansion, Troy and I laughed, for we truly did not expect to be in a position to tell George Nigh, our Oklahoma Governor, “hello” anytime soon.
Days turned to weeks, and weeks came close to a month, as we ran leads on our killer’s location. Crisscrossing Louisiana became the norm until information was obtained that our fugitives were offshore from Houma, Louisanna. Quick helicopter trip to the oil platform and a cursory introduction to the oil field life resulted in disappointment. Like smoke in the wind, once again a promising piece of information evaporated. Hammered to the ground and exhausted Troy and I once again returned to New Orleans.
Late night discussions between Troy and I evolved into a decision to return to Oklahoma. The lack of actionable information, coupled with exhaustion had taken a measure from us both. Telling our newly acquired Cajun partners was more difficult than expected. Ferdie and Keno were not only fellow Lawmen but they had become our friends. Finally we lessioned the dramatic effect by saying “hell boys we have eaten enough crawdads, boudin, and alligator to kill ten men, it’s time for some Oklahoma “biscuits and gravy”.
Leaving town we traveled west on I — 10 towards Houston. About two hours out a Greyhound bus passed in the left lane. Troy and I glanced at one another and merely shook our heads. Disappointment, exhaustion, and a need to “get home” had taken more than either one of us wanted to admit. As the day wore into early evening we exited I — 10 and looked for lodging. Scanning the map indicated we were in the city of Orange, Texas, a short day’s drive from Oklahoma City. Early the following day we were underway, now traveling I — 35 north to Oak City. Weariness had set with us both and along with it attempts at rationalizing. Silent words such as ``we rode hard’’, “did all we could do”, “it wasn’t in the cards”, did little to ease the disappointment. Thoughts of “what did we miss” and “how come” prevailed.
Arrival at Bureau Headquarters was as expected. The “welcome backs” and “you look tired” resounded, causing Troy and I to exit as quickly as we could. Due to the hour, Troy decided to stay over with me and proceed to his home in Hollis the following day. Early dinner and a movie sounded like good medicine so after devouring a large T Bone we took in a movie. “Apocalypse Now” was our pick and as we exited the theater all I could say was, “our manhunt was just about as f — ed up as the movie”. When night fell, sleep did not come easy. Dreams of an overweight Marlon Brando somehow eroded into dreams of our outlaws. Sunrise came early and with it some relief, that Brando wasn’t Ake and his sidekick Hatch was not any of the other characters in the previous night’s show.
Discussions with Inspector Abernathy were welcome. Instructions were received to finish my paperwork and take a couple of days rest. Serious fatigue was setting in and as I drove towards my home, the realization of the emotional and physical price our “manhunt” had extracted, resounded into my soul.
Capture
Thanksgiving eve arrived along with another late night call from Inspector Abernathy. The words “shoot out”, “high speed chase”, and “capture” ricocheted inside my brain. Other words spoken set off secondary explosions for the phrases “double homicide” and “Orange, Texas” resounded.
Efforts to slow my brain partially worked as Abernathy continued: Shootout in Rawlings, Wyoming and a high speed chase ending in Craig, Colorado followed. Glen Ake and his running buddy Steven Hatch in custody at the Moffat County Jail, in Craig. Telephone call ended with Abernathy instructing me to, Dress for a plane trip and come to Bureau Headquarters, as quickly as possible.
As I pulled away from my apartment, snow was starting to fall. Temperatures were frigid and before getting to Bureau headquarters, the snowfall was heavy and I knew a flight to Colorado would not occur. Director Kennedy, Inspector Abernathy, and Agent Greq Shields, accompanied by Sheriff Stedman from Canadian County, were all in attendance when I arrived. Quick pleasantries were exchanged, followed by Shields and Sheriff Stedman, providing available details.
As they talked my mind raced. Once informed that our outlaws had stolen a car in Orange, Texas, and that the car’s owners had both been murdered, I stopped breathing. Rapid fire questions were silently pondered, as the memory of Troy and I overnighting in Orange, Texas was recalled. A snap back into current issues occurred, for now Abernathy advised that a commercial flight to Colorado was not available due to weather. Director Kennedy kicked in and assured all that we would have a flight and to stand by. As we waited, Sheriff Stedman announced, we need to try because Texas was already sending Rangers to extradite our outlaws from Colorado.
Within a short time, Director Kennedy returned and informed us we needed to get to the airport for a flight to Colorado had been secured.
Arrival at the Oak City airport took on a surreal experience, once I discovered our transport aircraft to Colorado would be a twin engine Beechcraft. As we loaded, I half sarcastically told the pilot “I hope you are good with instruments” it’s “snowing like hell”. While in flight Sheriff Stedman explained that he and Agent Shields would unload in Craig. He continued by informing me I would travel on to Rawlings, Wyoming, to interview Hatch’s girlfriend, who had been traveling with our killers.
Except for being “bumpy” our ride to Craig was fairly uneventful. Leaving Craig traveling to Rawlings was different for I now rode adjacent to the pilot, looking directly out of the front windshield. As we made our approach in Rawlings, I commented that I could not see the runway. As if on command faint lights were now visible. As we touched down, I realized the lights were actually fires burning in barrels and that Rawlings was sure enough not a metropolitan giant.
A Deputy from the Carbon County Sheriff’s Office, introduced himself as I exited the aircraft. Comments such as “can not believe you flew in this storm” were first as I responded half heartedly with “no problem, we have instruments.”
Fresh winter air along with a dose of strong coffee helped in the “clear your mind procedure” needed, before being introduced to the killer’s traveling companion. Young but hard, was my first assessment, and as the visit progressed “old before her time” glared like a neon sign. Simple questions, followed by simple answers, painted the picture answering what Troy and I had missed, during our six plus week manhunt.
Work at a carnival had been our killer’s mainstay once New Orleans became their temporary home. Constant discussions about the havoc they had created in Okarche resounded, along with talk of needing to return to Oklahoma. Rationale for the Oklahoma return centered on the survival of “eyewitnesses, Brooks and Lesley”, and the need to “kill them both.”
Hard kicks arrived once my young witness explained, when we quit the Carnival in New Orleans, we rode Greyhound as far as we could. Our tickets terminated in Orange, Texas, so we broke into a home. As we left, “Glen and Steven” shot and killed the two occupants and stole their car. We drove to Wyoming where the “police’’ recognized the car and chased us.
We got away but they were back on us in Colorado and we were finally caught in Craig.
As I departed the jail my thoughts pounded like artillery fire. Loading on the Beechcraft and flying back to Craig was done in silence. Disbelief and anger, merging into rage was now my mode. Contempt for myself was building, as I pondered the Greyhound that passed Troy and I on Interstate 10. Disbelief was turning to disgust when I recalled our “overnighter” in Orange, Texas. Thoughts of “how will I tell Troy” were now front and center.
Arrival back in Craig was short lived. Within no time, Sheriff Stedman, Shields, and I, accompanied by our two handcuffed and shackled killers, were loading onto the Beechcraft for our Oklahoma return. Seating arrangements caused me to be situated directly in front of Ake. To his side was Hatch and next to me was Shields. Sheriff Stedman was seated beside the pilot, but before securing his seatbelt, he looked at both Ake and Hatch and said “you act up and we will kill you both”. The Sheriff’s voice and demeanor, accompanied by the facial reaction of our Killers, left no doubt in my mind that if their behavior went south, they would die where they sat.
Return to Oklahoma
Take off from Craig went smooth and within no time we were cruising at altitude. Relaxing, or relief, was not on the agenda, for keeping an “Eagle Eye” on our two murderers was the mission. Both were securely shackled, first, with handcuffs, secondly with leg irons and a belly chain. Directly in front of my seat was Ake and to his left side sat Hatch.
Sheriff Stedman’s warning to our killers resonated. As I watched Ake fall asleep, I pondered exactly what it would take for lethal intervention to occur. Glancing over at Hatch, I settled in with the knowledge that bad behavior on their part, would end with two dead badmen. Mindful of being in flight, bullet placement would be critical, dictating “center mass shots”. Thoughts such as “desperate equals dangerous” were followed by “they deserve it”. Another common sense, but practical concern, was “no ear protection” would equal eardrum loss for all involved.
Within a short time Ake nodded off. Examining him closely I noted that his head, hands, and knees were massive. He was not an exceptionally large man, but considering his structural peculiarities, thoughts of “neanderthal” came to mind. Glancing over at Hatch I sensed that he, unlike his partner, was having difficulty relaxing. His manner and eyes portrayed a man who was not only cornered but scared.
Noises coming from Ake caught my attention. As I refocused on him my attention was directed to his eyes. Sound asleep, head tilted back, but eyes wide open. As I looked harder, his eyes remained open, all that was visible was a solid wall of white.
It had been nine years since I had last seen such in any man’s eyes. March 1970, marked my first observance of the sight. “Solid White Eyes’’ accompanied by “death rattles’ ‘ equaled imminent death. Vietnam, Fire Support Base Granite, and the infamous A Shau Valley had been the classroom. Death, dying, and suffering had been the lesson. Confusion now entered my brain for without question, Ake was not dead. As I looked harder, my mind cleared, and a slight shudder came. Once subsided, I knew I was not only looking at death, but I was looking at the evil within the outlaw’s soul.
Remaining flight time to Oak city elapsed without incident. Taxiing to the parking area allowed for window views of the runway and accumulated snow. Once close, I was shocked at the number of people waiting at our arrival gate. News Crews, accompanied by huge cameras, fought for space. As we prepared to unload, Sheriff Stedman advised that he and Shields would escort Ake and that I would follow with Hatch. As we ascended down the ladder cameramen scrambled.
To the side of one newsman, I saw Director Kennedy. Only eye contact was made, but acknowledgement of “we got them” was clearly understood.
Transport of our killers to the Cleveland County jail was next.
Before I knew it, I was negotiating snow covered roads towards my apartment. Once settled, a call to Troy was placed. As I told the story, emotions built. When details of the “carnival” employment were uttered Troy said, “I should have known”. After telling the tale of the Greyhound bus and the Orange, Texas murders silence came. Before hanging up we both solemnly understood that it would take a bit to put all together.
Two shots of Jack Black did little to crank myself into sleep. A third shot allowed for eye closure but not rest. Racing thoughts slowed after the last shot of Mr. Black, and a shallow sleep finally arrived. Much like Vietnam, sleep was needed, but dangerous, for evil was known to travel when one was not looking.
Days off were mandated by Inspector Abernathy. As I attempted to relax, I realized something was wrong. Decompression was illusive, and frustration building on anger was becoming overwhelming. A visit to the Doctor told part of the tale. Physical and emotional exhaustion was identified, and elevated blood pressure readings were the culprits. Days off turned to weeks, and a trip east to visit my parents in South Carolina followed.
Father son time allowed for life discussions. Words spoken were without a doubt well intended. Steve, have you ever thought that you just “try too hard” was the question. Thought first and then my reply, “Dad, I am alive today because of how hard I try”, followed by “more importantly, most of the Soldiers I led, are alive because of it.” No words followed but my Dad’s eyes told me he understood.
Good home cooking and time with my Mom and Dad did what I could not. Feeling physically better I set course back to Oklahoma. Drive time allowed for the processing of “what happened” and how to avoid a recurrence. Some peace came when thoughts of my Dad’s words were recalled. Resolution came, upon silently saying “next time, I will try harder and kill the Devil sooner.”
Justice
Glen Burton Ake was tried by a Canadian County jury in 1980, found guilty and received two death sentences for the murder of Reverend Douglass and his wife Marylyn. He also received two 500 — year sentences for the shooting of the Douglasse’s children, Brooks and Lesley. The Court of Criminal Appeals later confirmed Ake’s convictions and sentences.
Steven Kieth Hatch, was tried in District Court of Canadian County, Oklahoma by Judge Floyd Martin. Judge Martin found Hatch guilty of two counts of murder and two counts of shooting with the intent to kill. After petitioner’s sentencing hearing, Judge Martin found three aggravating circumstances: (1) the murders were especially heinous, atrocious or cruel; (2) petitioner committed the murders to avoid lawful arrest or prosecution; and (3) a probability existed “that the defendant would commit criminal acts of violence that would constitute a continuing threat to society.” The judge therefore imposed on petitioner two sentences of death for his murder convictions, as well as two terms of forty-five years in prison for his other convictions.
On 7 November, 1984 , Ake’s conviction was appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court. Resultant decision by the Court vacated Akes’s conviction and remanded the case back to State Court for a new trial. The retrial of Ake resulted in another conviction for the murders of Reverand Douglass and his wife Marilyn, and for the shooting with the intent to kill the Douglass children Brooks and Lesley. Sentence imposed was Life in Prison. On 23 April, 2011, Glen Ake died at a Oklahoma prison hospital as a result of a heart attack.
In August, 1996 Steven Hatch was executed by lethal injection. Hatch became the eighth Oklahoma inmate to be executed since the state resumed use of the death penalty in 1990. He also was the first in modern times to be put to death for a crime in which someone else pulled the trigger.
In 1979, at the age of 28, my understanding of the concept of Justice was skewed towards my personal perspective. That perspective was tempered and distorted to only encompass: the crime itself, subsequent investigation, criminal charges — apprehension, and prosecution — adjudication. Moving on to the next assignment was my focus and although not forgotten, previous cases were placed in one’s memory as they were finished.
It has now been forty-three years since the late night telephone call from Inspector Abernathy. As was the case in 1979, moving on to “the next assignment” has now encompassed two additional wars, and an untold number of scenes, which have amplified both the good and evil in man. A clear view of all is not possible, however, memories of the violence and carnage in Okarche, remain unobstructed.
