Sister Doris Moore, DC, has experienced the personal side of the death penalty. While some people are against capital punishment for legal reasons, the Daughter of Charity is against the state killing inmates for personal and religious reasons. Her friend is on death row in Texas and is scheduled to be executed March 28.
In 1998 Sister Doris was the coordinator at one of her order’s wellness centers in San Antonio. As a member of the local anti-death penalty group, she was invited to attend a national abolition convention. After Mass at the cathedral, participants were walking back to the hotel and several high school students were handing out slips of paper with the names and addresses of Texas death row inmates to write.
“I received Vicente’s name,” she said. “It was so interesting since our (order’s) patron saint is St. Vincent … I knew that was the right one for me.”
The 19-year-old, Vincent Gutierrez, had just arrived on death row. Also attending the convention was Gutierrez’s mother, Irene, and Sister Doris befriended her as well.
After an initial letter to introduce herself, Sister Doris committed to driving four hours to Livingston, Texas, to visit Gutierrez at least two times a year.
“I’ve been with him on the whole journey,” said Sister Doris, who is now working as the community development coordinator at Helping Hand food pantry in Little Rock.
Sister Doris has been a consistent presence in Gutierrez’s life since he arrived on death row. They exchange letters in between visits. She has mailed him art supplies to foster his talents, and he gave her a pen-and-ink drawing of praying hands that hangs in her bedroom.
She said his guilt or innocence is not something they discuss. According to the Texas Department of Criminal Justice, Gutierrez was sentenced to death for killing a 40-year-old Air Force captain during a carjacking in 1997.
“To this day I don’t know if he is guilty or not,” she said. “I felt my role was to just accompany him.”
Sister Doris has always been against the death penalty because it discounts redemption for the inmate.
“It’s a sign to the person who is executed that there is no hope for you; you cannot change,” she said. “I really do believe Vicente has turned his life around.”
On his journey, Sister Doris said she tries to help Gutierrez, who was raised Catholic, by reading Scripture and praying with him during their two-hour “minister visit.”
They sit across from each other in a cinder-block cell divided by a window and have to use a telephone to hear each other.
“He loves to look at the Bible as I read,” she said.
They also talk about his interest in art and sports.
“He loves to talk about the (San Antonio) Spurs,” she said. “He is an extremely intelligent man.”
When Sister Doris moved to Arkansas in 2004, she committed herself to continuing her prison visits in spite of the extra expenses. Nieces and nephews assist her with money for her plane tickets, rental car and hotel accommodations.
Sister Doris thought she was called to minister to a prisoner on death row. She never thought she would accompany him to the death chamber as his spiritual adviser and watch him receive a lethal injection.
Last year Gutierrez was notified that his execution date was set.
“I told him I wanted to,” she said of serving as his minister during the execution. “He said, ’Well, I think it’s strange anyone would want to see anybody executed.’ I said, ’It’s not that I want to. I am going to hate it. It’s going to be horrible, but I am on this journey with you and I will be with you until the end.’ With God’s help I can do it.”
On Feb. 28 Sister Doris made her last visit to the Polunsky Unit to visit Gutierrez, who is now 28 years old. She read to him about the death of Jesus from the Gospel of St. Luke.
“I chose that one because it is the one where he (Jesus) says, ’Father into your hands I commend my spirit.’ I tell Vicente, ’He is our teacher and we have to learn from him. You will learn from Jesus how to die. I want you to repeat that line as you are ready to die.’”
They ended their visit by expressing their love for each other and pressing their hands against the glass.
Sister Doris has also relied on the Daughters of Charity across the English-speaking world who responded to her e-mail for prayers. They have formed a “wall of prayer” for Sister Doris and Gutierrez. Many, including the Daughter of Charity’s superior general in France, Sister Evelyne Franc, have written or e-mailed Sister Doris.
“I entrust you to Our Lady who traveled the Via Dolorosa and witnessed the crucifixion of her only son,” Sister Evelyne wrote in a letter dated Feb. 6.
Others have also written to Gutierrez and Texas Gov. Rick Perry.
“I never dreamed in a million years that this letter would go all over the world,” she said. “This has been my life saver. We have done everything we can (to spare his life). It’s in God’s hands.”
She is asking everyone she meets to pray for the situation, but to especially pray Psalm 27 (“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom do I fear? …) March 28.
On March 27 Sister Doris will travel with her sister, Margie Huber of Cape Girardeau, Mo., to the execution chamber in Huntsville. The next day Sister Doris will have 30 minutes with Gutierrez in the afternoon for prayer and time together. It will be the first time they aren’t separated by glass. At 6 p.m. March 28 Sister Doris will watch the scheduled execution.
Currently there are 387 people on death row in Texas, including 10 women.