[Congressional Record Volume 144, Number 67 (Friday, May 22, 1998)]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages E945-E946]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                     IN MEMORY OF REBECCA JO PATTON

                                 ______
                                 

                            HON. KEVIN BRADY

                                of texas

                    in the house of representatives

                         Thursday, May 21, 1998

  Mr. BRADY of Texas. Mr. Speaker, I rarely submit remarks to be 
entered into the Congressional Record, but I commend to the nation the 
following editorial published April 29, 1998 in the Kingwood, Texas 
Observer. The writer is Cynthia Calvert, who is managing editor of the 
newspaper, a community leader, a dedicated mother of two and, I am 
proud to say, a friend.
  Given the current tone of debate over capital punishment--in which 
too often the killer is glorified while the victim and their loved ones 
are forgotten--this editorial is a poignant reminder of the true, 
lasting loss when violent crime touches our lives.

              [From the Kingwood Observer, Apr. 29, 1998]

                         One Mother's Good-bye

                          (By Cynthia Calvert)

       Last Friday evening, the state of Texas executed another 
     murderer.
       Lesley Lee Gosch, 42, was put to death at 6:38 p.m.
       At that exact moment, I was watching, with my two children 
     the pink, yellow, golden sunset on the Intercoastal Canal 
     near my family's beach home on the Bolivar Peninsula.
       Lesley Lee Gosch had twice asked for clemency, that is 
     being spared, set free--for his crimes. He had two, at least. 
     He committed the murder of a young San Antonio

[[Page E946]]

     housewife while trying to gather money to avoid a trial for 
     making and selling illegal gun silencers.
       Most of us in Kingwood don't need too many gun silencers. 
     Perhaps only really really bad people need to muffle the 
     noise of a gunshot.
       Gosch was an Eagle Scout. Yes, all those meetings and 
     badges and camping trips and oaths--well, they just dissolved 
     into an evil nothingness.
       Gosch was name in Thursday's and Friday's headlines, albeit 
     second pagers, for a day or two. Now he is dead, along with 
     Karla Faye Tucker and three others so far this year (37 in 
     1997).
       Gosch is notable to me because I knew his victim--Rebecca 
     Jo Patton. Becky was only 42 (ironically the age of Gosch 
     when executed and nearly my age as I write this) when Gosch 
     shot her six times in the head and left her in the hallway of 
     her San Antonio home for her daughters to find. Those girls 
     were 15 and 11. I am 41 and my children are 13 and 9. Just 
     stop for a moment and imagine the desolation and grief you 
     would feel if someone was senselessly taken from you like 
     Becky was from her family. Gosch and a friend delivered 
     flowers as a ruse to Becky and then, at gunpoint, forced her 
     to call her bank-president husband and demand a huge ransom. 
     The pair were then going to use the cash to fly to Belize, 
     spending the rest of their days in the sun-drenched 
     Caribbean.
       A nice life if you can get it.
       Instead, Gosch got 13 years in Huntsville, two media-
     frenzied pleas for mercy and then death. His buddy got 45 
     years and is schedule to be released in June. My friend got 
     murdered. Her husband, for a while, got suspicious looks and 
     doubts. Her daughters got pain and tears, and graduations and 
     boyfriends, and weddings with no mother. Texans got the bill.
       But our victims you see, get very little by law. In Texas, 
     victims do not have the right to attend the trial of the 
     accused. You cannot go, without the judge's permission, to 
     the trial of the person who murders your mother.
       I was a young mom who joined First Presbyterian Church of 
     San Antonio in 1984. I signed up for everything that had 
     childcare. I joined, one Sunday September morning, the 
     ``Uncomfortables'' class. The class for those who have deep, 
     unanswered questions about Christianity and religion but who 
     still believe. To my great surprise, she was there.
       Becky Patton--the very life of the 2,000-member downtown 
     church. The one who was in every circle, on every youth list, 
     who taught the little kids at Bible School, who performed 
     countless, anonymous unselfish acts, who sustained the 
     church.
       She was uncomfortable?
       She had question, even doubts? I was thoughtful and then 
     glad.
       If God let Becky have questions, then questions weren't so 
     bad.
       Then I wasn't so bad.
       We both went to Thursday morning Bible study, led by Senior 
     Minister Louis Zbinden. I studied, and hard, especially 
     considering I had an 11-month-old to mother. I researched 
     those three typed pages of questions each week. I studied. I 
     learned.
       One Wednesday, two desperate men bought flowers and rang 
     Becky's doorbell. They connived their way in. They put a gun 
     to her head and made her call her husband for money. 
     Something went wrong--many later speculated she saw Gosch's 
     deformed little finger and could identify him. She begged for 
     her life. They shot her six times, in the head. The time 
     between her call for money and the police bursting in her 
     front door was less than an hour.
       An angel was taken that day.
       The next day was Thursday, the weekly Bible study. 
     Devastation and grief swallowed the sanctuary where several 
     hundred women sat in stunned numbness. The normally 
     unflappable Louis could not choke back his tears.
       Gosch went on to live for nearly 13 more years. Becky's 
     daughter's grew up--I had a second child. He asked for and 
     received stays of his execution. His last request was based 
     on the Texas Open Meetings Act. Incredibly callous and 
     disrespectful and contemptuous. Just like his behavior 13 
     years earlier in that San Antonio home.
       Prison just doesn't change them.
       The true crime is the delay in this punishment and we are 
     the ones responsible for it. We sit at home and do not call 
     or even write our legislators to demand swift punishments. It 
     is those intervals between the crime and the punishment that 
     is wrong. Time to think, time to beg, time to live. Years and 
     years of hard, hard moments for the families. The mother of 
     any child will tell you that punishment must quickly follow 
     misbehavior or the lesson is lost. Criminals today have no 
     quick consequences. Gosch had 13 years!
       The only ones to really serve life sentences are the 
     families.
       Louis would often say that the most common words in heaven 
     must surely be ``Oh''.
       Because that is what is said when finally we have perfect 
     understanding. ``Oh!,'' we'll say.
       Good-bye Becky. While I'm still uncomfortable, I know you 
     aren't.

     

                          ____________________