I searched my brain, my dictionary and the internet to find the one word to perfectly convey the opposite of “forgiveness.”
I couldn’t come up with it.
“Vengeance” is too harsh and suggests an action taken to address a wrong. “Harshness” is softer but negative in connotation toward the possessor of the attribute. Same with “sternness.”
Maybe three words — “hardness of heart” — is the closest I can come, if it’s understood that what hardens a person’s figurative heart is usually not self-inflicted but rather caused by the cruelty of others.
When I started making calls this past week to try to get some reaction from the victims’ family members to the news that Paul Murrell Stewart is being paroled, I didn’t know whether I would hear expressions of forgiveness, anger or something in between.
Maybe these family members are wrestling with their emotions, as several did not return my call, and a brother of one of the murder victims said he did not wish to talk about it when he did call me back.
A few weeks ago, a remarkable act of forgiveness at the end of a murder trial in Dallas received national attention. The brother of the innocent victim testified, during the sentencing phase for Amber Guyger, that he forgave the former police officer and then hugged her as she sobbed in the courtroom.
But comparing that case to Stewart’s is not fair.
Guyger, all parties agree, fatally shot Botham Jean in what was a mind-boggling but genuine case of mistaken identity. She thought she was entering her own apartment, not the apartment a floor above hers. She thought Jean was a possibly armed burglar when in fact he was a neighbor minding his own business, eating a bowl of ice cream.
The decisions that led to the deaths in 1995 of Eddie Brooks and Everett Curry Sr. were no accident.
Stewart went willingly along with Hart Turner on an armed robbery spree that resulted in Turner, who was white, shooting in cold blood the two black men, one who was tending the counter at a convenience store, the other just pumping gas into his vehicle.
Turner showed no mercy to Brooks and Curry, and he got none in return, either from the families of the victims or from the state, which executed him in 2012.
Stewart’s case is more complicated.
He was only 17 at the time of the killings, had been drinking and smoking marijuana with Turner that night, and appeared to be heavily influenced by the older Turner, whose mental illness tipped over from suicidal to homicidal.
Even though he was armed like Turner, Stewart probably thought they would use the high-powered rifles only to frighten their robbery victims, not to kill them. He did not shoot either of the men.
Stewart has tried to make amends since his arrest. He testified against Turner in exchange for not facing the death penalty himself. In prison, even when he thought he would never get out, he behaved, finished his education and then some, and expressed remorse for what happened.
None of this, though, was persuasive to Everett Curry Jr., the one family member who did agree to be interviewed by me.
He said he was stunned that Stewart was being paroled, that it was gratifying to witness the execution of Turner, and that he and other family members are still coping with the pain of his father’s death.
If Everett Jr. can’t let go of the hurt, it’s not due to some flaw in him. It’s because of what Turner and Stewart did.
Everett Jr. was 9 when he lost his father to a cruel, senseless act of violence. There’s no telling the financial and emotional hardships that created for him, his mother and his younger sister.
It would be admirable if he could forgive, but it’s understandable why he can’t.
If the situations were reversed, if the Brooks and Curry families were related to the perpetrators instead of the victims, would they be receiving the balm of forgiveness?
They would probably say it’s doubtful, that while blacks, such as Botham Jean’s brother, have a history of forgiving white perpetrators, it rarely happens in reverse.
Looking back on our coverage of Turner’s execution seven years ago, I was struck by the statement from the Curry family. It was read by one of Everett Sr.’s brothers, Roy, a former Leflore County school administrator whom I’ve only known to be decent and kind.
“During this entire ordeal,” Roy Curry said, “the families of those who perpetrated this violent crime have never offered any statement of remorse or apologies for taking Everett’s life and leaving behind his wife and two young children to grieve.”
If so, that would harden most people’s hearts.
• Contact Tim Kalich at 581-7243 or tkalich@gwcommonwealth.com.
