Monday, January 29, 2024

SALT AND IRON

by Julia Ross


Kenneth Eugene Smith appeared to convulse and shake vigorously for about four minutes after the nitrogen gas apparently began flowing through his full-face mask in Alabama's death chamber. It was another two to three minutes before he appeared to lose consciousness, all while gasping for air to the extent that the gurney shook several times. Smith was declared dead at 8:25 p.m. Thursday, and Alabama had become the first state to use nitrogen gas to execute a human… In 2022, Smith was strapped to the gurney to be executed by lethal injection, but prison officials could not gain access to his veins for the two IV lines before the death warrant expired and the execution process was halted. —Montgomery Advertiser, January 25, 2024. Italicized lines in the poem printed below are drawn from this article by Marty Roney. Above photo: The Rev. Jeff Hood, an Arkansas-based pastor and the spiritual adviser who was in the execution chamber with Mr. Smith, challenged the idea that the execution had gone as officials anticipated. Edward D. Fountain for The New York Times.

Credit...Credit...It was appalling,” said Deborah Denno, an expert on execution methods at Fordham University Law School. “Pain for two to four minutes, particularly when you’re talking about somebody who’s suffocating to death — that’s a really long period of time and a torturous period of time.” 

The reverend made the sign
of the cross several times

as his condemned friend writhed,
ribs escaping chest in search of breath. 

The first time they were here
there was no mask, no plastic tubing.

They could lock eyes as the best
phlebotomists in the state tried 

and tried to kill him. Imagine that:
clemency in the form of blown veins.    

Divinity school did not prepare him 
for this. Lazarus who was raised

just to die again got to slip away 
both times in the warmth of arms    

while his buddy died tethered, 
wrists and ankles to the gurney,

nose and mouth to the wall
from which the nitrogen flowed

like salt and iron through a blood-
red sea. It was enough to bring you back

to certainty. The reverend removed 
his eyeglasses and wiped away tears,

knowing this time he would walk out—
sure, with God—but profoundly alone.


Julia Ross lives in Austin, TX. She writes about parenthood and about the sociopolitical hellscape known as Texas.