Here is the first installment of what I hope will be an ongoing dialogue with Damien Echols. We have been corresponding for a time, and I deeply encourage all to learn more about this young man’s story. Until he is free, none of us are free. –
1) How do I feel right now? The answer to that question will vary from day to day, sometimes even hour to hour. I always hear about the support out there, and while I’m hearing about it it gives me hope. It gives me a sense of excitement that this nightmare may soon be over. But I’m not always in contact with that kind of support. Most of the time I sit in this cell alone, with people all around me who not only know nothing of my case, but also don’t care. They don’t look at me any differently than anyone else on death row. It’s extremely disheartening when I see that far more people are unfamiliar with the case (and do not care) than are familiar with it. When that realization sets in, I often feel fearful, and I have to fight to shake off the fear and doubt.
2) What is my most treasured memory? Every single day with my wife is my most treasured memory. Our every conversation, her every touch, and every moment of every year that we’ve been on this journey together. There is not one single second that I don’t cherish beyond words. There are few memories I hold dear from before all this, because they fill me with overwhelming nostalgia, such as sitting on the dock with Jason, looking out across the water and watching the sunset. Or going for long walks in the middle of winter when it was so cold I could see my breath in the air. It’s the little things you really miss, like being able to watch the rain.
3) Who do I love? My wife. My son. My family. And especially the friends I’ve been so fortunate to have that have stuck by me through the years and demonstrated more kindness than I could have ever expected.
4) What do I wish for? I wish to leave this place behind and go home, to let this entire situation become a distant memory. I wish to wear real clothes and eat real food. I wish to be able to go places and see things. I wish to be able to relax for the first time in many, many years.
5) What do I feel about this unfairness, this unjust situation? Sometimes I feel anger, sometimes fear, or sadness. Sometimes hope that it will soon be over. I also can’t help but wonder how many other people this has happened to. Something must be done about the corruption that makes a situation like this possible, or it will continue to happen to others, and next time it may very well be someone not fortunate enough to gain public support.
6) How do I feel towards the many people who cry for my freedom, among them important artists, writers and celebrities? I feel extreme gratitude for everyone who offers support. They’re the only reason I haven’t lost all hope long ago and collapsed beneath the weight of this hell. Just knowing there are people in the “real world” who remember, and work to rectify this situation – that’s what has kept me afloat, and I could never express the full extent of my gratitude. Unexpectedly, I’ve also been fortunate enough to make many life long friends. I’ve no doubt that I owe my life to these supporters.
7) What is my spiritual practice? My main form of spiritual practice has been zazen meditation for many years now. I highly recommend it for maintaining your calm in harsh situations. My spiritual practice is very dynamic, constantly evolving – that’s the only way it can remain functional. I look at my spiritual practice as a way to engage and learn from life, not simply a crutch to help make it through. I draw strength and inspiration from many strong, spiritual figures from Ghandi, Seung Sahn, Shodo Harada Roshi, Israel Regardie, H. P. Blavatsky, and a host of others.
8) Where am I now in terms of the court system? I’m preparing to file my appeal with the 8th circuit, which is federal court. This is my big appeal, as it’s the one not centered in Arkansas. My appeal has already been rejected by all the Arkansas court systems.
9) How do I see the world from where I am? I don’t. I mean that literally and figuratively. My window to outside life consists of news programs. I don’t see the latest fashions, nor hear the newest musical releases. I don’t see the recent movies. My world consists entirely of my relationship with my wife and supporters.
I still have a couple more questions to answer, but they’ll turn the lights off soon. I’ll have to get those in my next letter.
I hope you’re doing well, Margaret. And know that your words lift my spirit. Thank you for that. Give my best to the husband, and I hope to hear from you soon.
Yours
D