Word: crump
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Across the U.S., some 250 condemned men are languishing behind bars, waiting to be executed for their crimes. Almost all of them could join in the lament of Paul Orville Crump, an inmate of Cook County (Ill.) jail: "I don't want to die. I want to live." To the State of Illinois, Crump is Prisoner 143384, male Negro, age 32-a convicted murderer sentenced to die in the electric chair Aug. 3. Crump's fight for life has stirred the biggest and most surprising outburst of clemency pleas since the Caryl Chessman case two years...
Nearly the entire staff of Crump's prison is marshaled behind the mounting save-Crump crusade, including the warden, the guards, the doctors, nurses, social workers and psychiatrists. Illinois Governor Otto Kerner has been besieged by requests for clemency from the likes of Billy Graham, Father Charles Dismas Clark (the "hoodlum priest"), state representatives, the former warden of San Quentin prison, the former county sheriff, a host of lawyers, sociologists and teachers. Two Chicago dailies, the American and the News, and the St. Louis Post-Dispatch, have weighed in with strong editorial support for mercy. A Chicago TV station...
Seven Hours from Death. Why this great crusade? Paul Crump's road to crime is no different from that traveled by hundreds of other convicts. One of 13 children raised in the squalor of Chicago's Negro ghetto, Crump learned to fend for himself after his father deserted the family when he was six. He dropped out of high school after only one year, graduated rapidly from stealing bicycles to armed robbery, for which he was dumped into the Illinois state penitentiary for three years when just...
...stay on his back for the required eight seconds. "Those six times, he must've been colicky." says one cowboy. The roster of Aught's conquests is the Who's Who of rodeo: Harry Tompkins (five-time world champion bull rider), Billy Hand, Gid Garstead, Pete Crump, Tex Martin, Larry Condon. Recalls Tompkins : "He was really spinning, and all of a sudden, after seven seconds, he sort of stopped and flung me right up on his horns. I was in bad shape, helpless--but he just turned his head, slipped me off, and walked away...
...incoming shells or a long, looping machine-gun burst from a distant weapon. Often a barrage caught Katanga's loyal whites of the home guard in mid-Scotch or mid-meal at an Elisabethville bistro. "Ah, it is time to go," shrugged one 24-year-old as the crump of nearby gunfire sent the lunchtime customers to the floor at one restaurant. Shouldering his rifle, he left in the direction of the shooting...