Attorney Lindsey Vann walks down the hallway of her Columbia office surrounded by portraits of men who've been freed from prison.
“All of these men have retained a love of life,” says Vann. “They kept the hope that one day they would be released.”
Vann says the smiles of former clients give her hope. She works for Justice 360, a non-profit founded more than 30 years ago to fight for people facing the death penalty.
Right now, Vann faces mounting deadlines as South Carolina resumes executions after a 13-year pause.
That pause was caused by the state’s inability to get drugs for lethal injection. The companies that sold them feared public backlash until last year, when the state passed a shield law protecting their identities.
Executions resumed
Armed once again with a drug, the state announced plans in late August to put six inmates to death in a matter of months. It executed its first, Freddie Owens, on September 20.
“It’s certainly a challenging place to do the work,” says Vann. “But I think that means it’s where the work needs to be done.”
Now the clock ticks for Richard Moore.
Moore was convicted of murdering a Spartanburg convenience store clerk 25 years ago. He’s scheduled to die one week from today, November 1.
“I’ve represented Richard since 2014,” says Vann. “You can’t not develop a connection when you’re doing that kind of work for that long.”
Vann and her team have twice saved Moore from dates with death, including an execution by firing squad in 2022. Then, the method was new and the only alternative to the state’s century old electric chair. This time, Moore was able to choose lethal injection.
Still, Vann doesn’t believe he should die for his crime.
“It is not a case that is typical for seeking the death penalty,” she says. “He was unarmed when he went into the store.”
Moore’s case
Prosecutors said Moore intended to rob the store for drug money when he took clerk James Mahoney’s gun on September 16, 1999. They argued he then shot an innocent bystander, potentially the only witness, before stepping over Mahoney’s body to grab a bag of cash. The bystander survived the shooting.
But Vann insists Moore was forced to defend himself when he and Mahoney got into an argument over spare change left for customers on the counter. She says the clerk pulled out not one, but two guns and there was a struggle in which both men were shot as well as the bystander. Vann says Moore grabbed the cash as an afterthought.
But it’s not just the facts of the case that concern her. It’s also the way Moore was tried in court.
Vann says the death penalty was sought after a contentious solicitor race in which the candidates touted being tough on crime. She says the newly elected solicitor, Trey Gowdy, struck potential Black jurors who were qualified. That left Moore facing a jury with no African American peers who convicted him of murdering a white man, before a white judge and white attorneys.
" It is one of those things that’s very clearly suspect when it happens, and I think should concern people," says Rosalind Major, a relatively new attorney who's working with Vann on Moore's case.
They've filed an appeal with the U.S. Supreme Court. We reached out to Gowdy by email but did not hear back.
Moore’s family
“He’s not a monster,” says Moore’s son Lyndall who lives in Michigan. “He’s not someone who deserved the sentence he got.”
Lyndall, who was just a child when his dad was incarcerated, says he doesn’t want to lose his father. He’s 30-years-old now and says he looks a lot like his dad.
Lyndall says Moore has been involved in his life despite incarceration. He plans to visit him this weekend as he pleads with the U.S. Supreme Court and Gov. Henry McMaster to reconsider the case.
“And really just understand it and really look through it and not be content with just allowing it to go forward.”
Moore also has a daughter who lives in Spain as well as two grandchildren who are close with him. His life hinges now on the nation’s highest court or the governor granting clemency.
Vann had sought to have someone other than Gov. McMaster decide clemency. She and her team argued he couldn’t be fair because he told the media two years ago, he had no intention of commuting Moore’s sentence.
Last week, a federal judge denied the request as McMaster maintained he has not made up his mind.
“You have to study. You have to know all the facts and not just opinions,” says McMaster. “I really don’t decide until we get right to the end.”
The governor has long said executions must resume because they provide much needed closure for victims’ families.
Justice
Mahoney’s family hasn’t spoken much with the media. But they have commented on Justice 360’s Facebook page. In one post they said, “Justice is not subjecting victims to relive the trauma over and over in appeals.”
Vann says her fight for Moore’s life is not meant to mitigate their loss. Her mentor and the founder of Justice 360, John Blume, explains why they see justice differently.
“The truth is if this case happened today no prosecutor anywhere in the state would seek the death penalty,” says Blume.
Blume calls Moore’s case a relic from the past, a time when politicians boasted about the death penalty and Black men were routinely convicted by all-white juries.
He says mistakes were made in the case that could cost Moore his life. He also knows what Vann may soon face. Moore has asked her to be a witness if he is executed.
“Witnessing that, you’re never going to get over that,” says Blume, who’s seen his share of executions.
Vann tugs at a silver cross around her neck as she talks about the possibility. She says she’s never seen an execution before and is relying on her faith.
“Ultimately, I just believe that no one should be alone going through something like that.”
Vann believes everyone should have someone, on their side. It’s part of the mission of Justice 360.