Remembering Patrick B. Knight
Dead Man Laughing
By Doreen (Dee) Hawk
I first met Patrick, Bryan as some called him back in January of 2007. The Polunsky unit, "Death Camp" in Huntsville Texas had gone on a hunger strike to protest the deplorable conditions. Well, out of the hundreds of inmates on death row, only a handful had participated, and sure enough Patrick was one of them. Actually he endured right to the very end, and was the last remaining striker.
I got a list of participants from one of the other strikers asking me to drop them a line and "show support of the cause," and so I did. This would be the beginning of a friendship, that I would never forget. Patrick became a member of The Abolishment Movement, my online educational death penalty forum. We corresponded occasionally, his letters always a pleasure to read, funny and light, and always concerned about the others.
Not to long after that I heard that Patrick got an execution date. Here we go again, I thought, because if anyone knows about the Texas "death camp," not too many people get out of there alive, guilty or innocent. I got a letter in the mail from Patrick, and in his own words "I'll be enjoying my last days on this earth. I'm not asking for any pen pals but I am asking you to spread the word that I am holding a contest. I want people to send me their best jokes, to keep me and the others with dates, laughing!" The best joke, which will be determined by the inmates on death watch and will be recited in Patrick's "Last Statement." Hopefully The Houston Chronicle and other media will print it. Instead of "Dead Man Walking" I'll will be "Dead Man Laughing."
Well, to be honest, at first I was a little turned off by the thought of making a joke out of the death penalty, but soon realized how he was feeling about all this, and decided to go along with it. I put up the Myspace page for him and named it "Dead Man Laughing." myspace.com/prisonuprise The only picture I had of Patrick was the TDCJ mug shot, which I hated, so I used a prison art piece. I soon got ahold of another picture from Debbie, another one of his pen-pals, supporters. And that would be the face the whole world would soon come to know.
I waited until June 1st, and published a sort of, press release on Associated Content. http://readthisurl.com/patrick. The media soon picked up on this. One day the phone rang and it was Maro Robbins, a staff reporter from Texas. Somehow he tracked me down. He wanted to know if the Dead Man Laughing page was a joke or if this was for real. "It's for real all right" I told him. He asked a few questions, and the conversation was over. The next day he printed the story, and called it "Gallows Humor." From there, it spread throughout the world. Dead Man Laughing was on TV, the radio, in newspapers everywhere. People were flocking to the Myspace and adding on as friends. Jokes were being posted, and many people were leaving messages.
Patrick was receiving jokes at the prison, and he was being interviewed. Neither him or I ever thought this would go this far, and be so popular. All he wanted was a few jokes to break the tension at the prison. A few jokes to read to the others and make them laugh. Now some people thought he was disrespecting the victims in his case, Mr. and Mrs. Werner. But in all honesty he repeatedly said he was not. He didn't know this was going to be on all types of media throughout the world. He thought he would receive a few jokes from the people in the "prison groups." If the media didn't make such a big deal out of this, there would have been no questions about disrespect. After all, if they had even for a second thought it was disrespectful. then why did they air it? Yeah, money! And till this day, I still don't think Patrick realized how BIG it was. Locked down like an animal in a cage, he had no access to the media to see for himself.
One day I "googled" Patrick B. Knight to see what would come up, and pages, upon pages of articles came up. The saddest thing I read was when he was a little boy, about 4 or 5, he was found on the bottom of a swimming pool with his tricycle on top of him. Geesh, he must have rode the bike into the pool. He had seizures for a year after that. He was from a dysfunctional family all right, or so they said he was. And when he got arrested for the crime he was executed for, his Mom and grandmom reportedly didn't want anything to do with him, and left Texas. He spoke of a daughter often, but I had never met her. I think the only other family he had for 16 long years were the friends around him, and those who wrote and visited him. The ones he loved and cared about.
When the day came for him to be executed, and he was on the gurney, the media wanted that "winning joke." Oh yes, he was accused of being disrespectful to the victims, but the media still wanted the "winning joke." He didn't deliver. And good for him! He chose his last minuets on this earth to say good-bye to the ones he loved, and to speak about his fellow comrades, the ones who need help on death row. The joke contest was all in fun, but the fun was over, and soon he would be too. The media can tell us about his voice breaking up, and sure it was, that was the sound of love. Not fear! They can tell us he was almost in tears, and that was his heart overbursting with compassion. How disappointed they were when there was no joke. As if he was the only death row inmate who was emotional on the gurney, they twisted it around to look like it was something it's not. How disrespectful!
I'll end this with a little poem by Patrick B. Knight, This is his humor, let this suffice as his last joke
Fuzzy Bunny or "Elmer's Childhood"
Little tiny bunny
So cuddly and sweet
You evil little varmit
Where's my Easter treat
Hiding all your candy
Stashing it to and fro
So I get all my clothes dirty
And nearly break my toe
Oh you devious little monster
I've begun to dread Easter Day
I'm going to catch you little bunny
And then your gonna pay
You long eared pesky rodent
This year I won't let you pass
All that chocolate made me break out
And I'm allergic to plastic grass
Who would really stop to think
You'd hide things way up in that tree
I fell from 20 feet above
Nearly breaking every bone inside of me
Man, am I ever gonna get you
I'd bet you hide stuff on the sun
Your days are numbered little bunny
I hate you and I'm not the only one
You got away again this year
You slipped by me, Dog Nabbit
But I'll eat you next year
You waskily freakin wabbit
(all rights reserved on this poem)
R.I.P. my friend!