Remember the Wichita Massacre?

The Black murderers-torturers of five White people had their life sentences overturned over a technicality — and this year the Supreme Court will consider reinstating them. National media coverage — which would bring attention to the war on Whites — has been almost nil.

by David Sims

TWO INFAMOUS murderers, Jonathan and Reginald Carr, have had all of their death penalties overturned by the Kansas Supreme Court, which held that the trial judge erred in using one sentencing hearing for both of them, instead of holding two hearings so that each of the killers could be sentenced apart. (ILLUSTRATION: The Kansas Supreme Court: seated, left to right: Marla J. Luckert, Lawton R. Nuss, Chief Justice; Carol A. Beier. Standing, left to right: Dan Biles, Eric S. Rosen, Lee A. Johnson, and Caleb Stegall.)

Fifteen years ago, way back in December 2000, the Carr brothers kidnapped, robbed, sexually abused, and murdered several White people on a cold Wichita soccer field. The victims were: Aaron Sander, 29; Brad Heyka, 27; Jason Befort, 26; and Heather Muller, 25. Another woman survived being shot in the head and ran naked through the snow to seek help; she was later a key witness at the Carr brothers’ trial.

The Carr brothers also were convicted of first-degree murder for the fatal shooting of Ann Walenta, a 55-year-old cellist. It isn’t obvious why two separate hearings were necessary so that due process would be fully done. It isn’t as if the two offenders couldn’t be treated separately at the same hearing. Sentencing each of them at hearings separated by space or by time, or by both space and time, seems like a cosmetic detail, and moreover one that would cost the taxpayers money without good reason. It does not seem like something upon which an appellate decision should turn. But if not giving each of the Carr brothers a separate sentencing hearing was such a grievous error that the punishment that best fits the crime cannot be imposed, then why did the error happen?

Is it at all probable that this is something that the trial judge would not have noticed? And why did the Kansas Supreme Court (KSC) disregard the eventual aggregate cost to law-abiding citizens that will result when violent criminals see that they may kill without any significant risk of being executed as their punishment? Were there any appellate courts between the trial court and the Kansas Supreme Court that also failed to notice the importance of this alleged “error”?

Furthermore, it was a divided decision that passed 4-3, with the dissenting justices wanting to be even more lenient than the majority, and that’s a sign that some of the “liberal” activists on the KSC were tempted to over-reach, but were prevented by the majority, which, at least, recognized the folly of doing so.

KSC Majority: “Oh look. The trial judge didn’t dot that ‘i.’ We must therefore overturn all of his death sentences.” (The nine justices laugh with malevolent glee.)

KSC Minority: “Hey! Let’s void all of the convictions, too!”

KSC Majority: “No, that would be going too far. People would know we were being mischievous if we did that.”

KSC Minority: “Oh, fiddlesticks. You’re no fun.”

The Kansas Supreme Court’s fuss over the trial court’s procedural error (if such it was) looks like nit-picking to almost everybody else: little more than “liberal” pretexts of the sort that made the case of George Emil Banks such a circus. One wonders what it takes to get a Negro executed these days.

Are state supreme court justices too insulated from street violence? There’s a well-known dysfunctional mindset that I’ve heard called “Ivory Tower Syndrome.” It amounts to people who are not in danger themselves second-guessing those who either are in danger, or are closer to the endangered people. Persons afflicted with Ivory Tower Syndrome intellectualize much, and they moralize much, and they “stand on principles” much, much more than life in the real world permits those exposed to its rigors to do.

Perhaps no one should be eligible to be a judge unless he or she has served a year, incognito, as a mock prisoner in a real state prison. The lessons learned, and the discipline acquired, would probably be quite valuable to them when considering these “hard” cases.

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