August 20, 2001

Dear friends,
Betty has asked me to send you her deep-felt gratitude for your thoughts and prayers in her behalf throughout the difficult days of this past week. She indeed felt the strength of your loving support, and she knows that your prayers for Jeffery helped to bear him up as he prepared to leave this life and return home to the Father. He gave himself over to his death in dignity and grace, feeling no malice or hatred toward any soul. His last words were expressions of love and came from the pure desire to comfort his children and friends and to leave them with a legacy of his undying faith in God and in the power of love to save. During his last words he said, "If you don't see peace in my eyes, you don't see me."
Jeffery left us all in awe of his magnificent spirit which glowed brighter each day we were there, and which, on his last day, radiated in such beauty that no one he came into contact with could fail to be touched. He was treated with respect by everyone, including his guards who let him walk into the Huntsville facility as a free man, unfettered by chains. Many miracles occurred over the months before his death, as God made it possible for every item on Jeffery's wish list to be fulfilled, including receiving word of full forgiveness from the victims' family, a trust fund and a system of support falling into place for his children, being reconciled with his father and other family members, and even receiving every item he asked to be included in his final meal (which sometimes doesn't happen). And he had quite the feast! He was truly happy that day and was even joking with his girlfriend moments before he died. It was his way of comforting her. When she and Betty and two other close friends of Jeffery exited the prison after witnessing his death, I saw tears in their eyes but smiles on their faces. They had truly come together with the common goal of helping Jeffery in every way he might need them ("I was in prison and you visited me..."), and their love for him made them feel relieved that he was now in a better place and that he had gone there in exactly the manner he had hoped to: at peace with God and man, and with loving words on his lips. I know they felt a little of what I felt: that they had gone into that Texas prison to get Jeffery "out of there" and that they had succeeded. He was now set free.
I'm aware that the sentiments I've expressed here may seem insensitive or even calloused when considering the suffering of Jeffery's victims or of their family. The deaths were violent and brutal. In no respect should the awful nature of Jeffery Doughtie's acts be excused or his crimes go unanswered. Early on, he asked to die for what he had done, and at one point, he put a stop to the appeals process. In the end, he walked willfully into that death chamber, accepting what was about to happen and fully submitting himself to the hands of his executioners—not because he believed they were justified in killing him, but because he wanted to be certain he was sacrificing everything in his power in order to own up, to show he had learned the lesson from his mistakes and was sorry, and to feel he was being square with God even though he felt forgiven by Him.
Had he not been put to death, Jeffery Doughtie would have worked tirelessly from behind bars to make amends, to influence the world for good in any small way he could, to increase God's love within his family and in his surroundings. This was no sudden deathbed repentence. For a long time, Jeffery had been a great source of comfort and faith to the other prisoners. Many were brought to God because of his example and his openness about his spiritual beliefs—in particular because of his sharing "Embraced By The Light" with anyone who would read it. One of his last acts was to give his stash of extra food (which is like gold to death row inmates), not to one of his friends, but to a new prisoner in the unit, a lonely, bitter, and angry man who Jeffery could see needed a touch of love from someone. Included in Jeffery's last statement were words to this effect: "I have thought a lot about the death penalty, whether it is right or wrong. I don't have any answers. But I know this: that the world is not made a safer place today by putting me to death."
The death penalty issue has many sides to it, and there are no easy answers. However, when it ceases to become a distant, hidden, bureaucratic exercise, and you see it face to face in a man you have come to know beyond his label of "murderer," you notice your heart and your head saying, "Killing is wrong. Period." Betty believes that, collectively, our hands are unclean as long as we allow the death penalty to continue. She will have more to say about this in the future, but for now, a statement prepared by her and released to the press on the day of Jeffery Doughtie's death makes very clear where she stands. "On this somber occasion, Betty J. Eadie desires to make it known publicly that she opposes this execution, as she opposes the death penalty in every respect. She believes we are all its victims. No one wins or gains; there is only loss. She calls upon elected officials, and those serving in our justice system to repeal death penalty legislation and turn instead to efforts which address the personal and family dysfunction leading to criminal behavior. She calls upon society in general to recognize and support the family as our most important structure. The death penalty is not a deterrent to crime; a family centered in love and belief in God is."
Betty is spending the next couple of weeks in South Dakota, resting and visiting family there. She is understandably drained after having truly walked into hell for a heavenly cause—which is not an overly dramatic way to put it. Believe me, if there is a hell on earth, it's the Terrell Unit (now Polunsky Unit because Charles Terrell no longer wants his name associated with the place) where Texas' death row is located. Personally, I hope never to return there, but Betty is a clear example to me of being willing to go anywhere or do anything God asks, knowing he will magnify us for the task. The wonderful thing is, and I have been reminded of this through experience: our Father not only strengthens us for the task but he blesses us in rich and permanent ways when we give courageous and selfless service from the heart. Even though my part was comparitively small, I come away a better man, with more substance to my soul—which only makes me better equipped to serve the next time. That's the way it is. And that's the way I welcome it.

To God be the glory Whose love is with you always,

Stan Zenk
webmaster@embracedbythelight.com

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