Richard Moore executed in South Carolina despite appeal to cut sentence to life

COLUMBIA, S.C. — South Carolina put Richard Moore to death by lethal injection Friday for the 1999 fatal shooting of a convenience store clerk, despite a broad appeal for mercy by parties that included three jurors and the judge from his trial, a former prison director, pastors and the his family.

Moore, 59, was pronounced dead at 6:24 p.m.

Moore was convicted of killing the Spartanburg convenience store clerk in September 1999 and sentenced to death two years later. Moore went into the store unarmed, took a gun from the victim when it was pointed at him and fatally shot him in the chest as the victim shot him with a second gun in the arm.

Moore’s lawyers asked Republican Gov. Henry McMaster to reduce his sentence to life in prison without parole because of his spotless prison record and willingness to be a mentor to other inmates. They also said it would be unjust to execute someone for what could be considered self-defense and unfair that Moore, who is Black, was the only inmate on the state’s death row convicted by a jury without any African Americans.

But McMaster refused to grant clemency. No South Carolina governor has reduced a death sentence, and 45 executions have now been carried out since the U.S. Supreme Court allowed states to restart executions nearly 50 years ago.

Unlike in previous executions, the curtain to the death chamber was open when media witnesses arrived. Moore’s last words had already been read by Lindsey Vann, his lawyer of 10 years.

Moore had his eyes closed and his head was pointed toward the ceiling. A prison employee announced the execution could begin at 6:01 p.m. Moore took several deep breaths that sounded like snores over the next minute. Then he took some shallow breaths until about 6:04, when his breathing stopped.

Vann cried as the employee announced the execution could start. She clutched a prayer bracelet with a cross. Sitting beside her was a spiritual advisor, his hands on his knees palms up. Vann clutched a prayer bracelet with a cross.

Two members of the victims’ family also watched along with solicitor Barry Barnette, who was on the prosecution team that convicted Moore. They all watched stoically.

Three jurors who condemned Moore to death in 2001, including one who wrote Friday, sent letters asking McMaster to change his sentence to life without parole. They were joined by a former state prison director, Moore’s trial judge, his son and daughter, a half-dozen childhood friends and several pastors.

They all said Moore, 59, is a changed man who loved God, doted on his new grandchildren the best he could, helped guards keep the peace and mentored other prisoners after his addiction to drugs clouded his judgment and led to the shootout in which James Mahoney was killed, according to the clemency petition.

Moore previously had two execution dates postponed as the state sorted through issues that created a 13-year pause in the death penalty, including companies’ refusal to sell the state lethal injection drugs, a hurdle that was solved by passing a secrecy law.

Moore is the second inmate executed in South Carolina since it resumed executions. Four more are out of appeals and the state appears ready to put them to death in five-week intervals through the spring. There are now 30 people on death row.

The governor said he would carefully reviewing everything sent by Moore’s lawyers and, as is customary, would wait until minutes before the execution starts to announce his decision once he hears by phone that all appeals are finished.

“Clemency is a matter of grace, a matter of mercy. There is no standard. There is no real law on it,” McMaster told reporters Thursday.

In an interview for a video that accompanied his clemency petition, Moore expressed remorse for the killing of Mahoney.

“This is definitely part of my life I wish I could change. I took a life. I took someone’s life. I broke the family of the deceased,” Moore said. “I pray for the forgiveness of that particular family.”

Prosecutors and Mahoney’s relatives have not spoken publicly in the weeks leading up to the execution. In the past, family members have said they suffered deeply and want justice to be served.

Moore’s lawyers said his original attorneys did not analyze the crime scene carefully and left unchallenged prosecutors’ contention that Moore, who came into the store unarmed, fired at a customer and that his intention from the start was a robbery.

According to their account, the clerk pulled a gun on Moore after the two argued because he was 12 cents short for what he wanted to buy.

Moore said he wrestled the gun from Mahoney’s hand and the clerk pulled a second weapon. Moore was shot in the arm and fired back, hitting Mahoney in the chest. Moore then went behind the counter and stole about $1,400.

No one else on South Carolina’s death row started their crime unarmed and with no intention to kill, Moore’s current attorneys say.

Jon Ozmint, a former prosecutor who was director of the South Carolina Department of Corrections from 2003 to 2011 and who added his voice to those seeking clemency, said Moore’s case was not the worst-of-the-worst kind of crime that would usually prompt a death penalty case.

There are plenty of people who were not sentenced to death but committed much more heinous crimes, Ozmint said, citing the example of Todd Kohlhepp, who was given a life sentence after pleading guilty to killing seven people including a woman he raped and tortured for days.

Lawyers for Moore, who is Black, also said his trial was not fair. There were no African Americans on the jury even though 20% of Spartanburg County residents were Black.

Moore’s son and daughter said he remained engaged in their lives. He once asked them about schoolwork and gave advice in letters. He now has grandchildren whom he sees on video calls. Several letter writers mentioned the harm to them if Moore is removed from their lives.

“Even though my father has been away, that still has not stopped him from making a big impact on my life, a positive impact,” said Alexandria Moore, who joined the Air Force at her father’s encouragement.