In Memoriam: John Whitehead
Died February 4, 2002 on death row
Editor's note: We have reproduced two separate essays on John Whitehead
here because they were both written with so much love and respect.
The following was compiled from a eulogy
given for John by Reverend Ronald Neustadt:
John died in his cell at Menard Correctional Center early Monday morning,
February 4, 2002 of an apparent heart attack. Born December 1, 1947,
John had lived on Menard’s death row since 1982.
I will remember John every time I listen to my Enya CD. Long before
Enya was as popular as she is now, John suggested (strongly) that
I should buy her compact disk.
John was like that. If he discovered something he thought was good
or valuable, he would eagerly pass it on to others. He recommended
videos (like “The Usual Suspects”), magazines (like “Science”),
music (like “Enya” and Charlotte Church), and books (like
“Galileo’s Daughter” and “Longitude”). And
if he had recommended something, he would expect to discuss it at
the next visit!
John’s interests were varied, and not always what one would expect
from someone who had been born and reared in poverty. He read theology
and he understood what he read. He jokingly accused me of trying to
make a Lutheran out of him, Baptist that he was. At the same time,
once he discovered Lutheran theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer, he was
as excited as a kid with a new toy.
I will remember John for the way he remembered my wife and children,
and asked about their well-being. I will remember him for his opposition
to RU-487 and abortion and the death penalty. I will remember him
for his prayers and work on behalf of persecuted Sudanese Christians
and on behalf of missionaries everywhere. John was an ardent Christian
who followed world events closely and was involved in prayer ministries
for missionaries and the suffering around the world. He was active
in a Bible study at the prison, though often prison authorities refused
to let the group meet.
John had friends in Chicago, Pennsylvania and southwestern Illinois
who would visit him on death row.
John’s ashes were scattered along Lake Michigan in northeastern
Wisconsin in accordance with his wishes. I am thankful to have known
him.
The following was written
by Peter Burton, a fellow death row inmate and friend of John’s:
John Whitehead was easily the best friend I’ve had in the past
decade. His passing was a deep blow to everyone who knew him because
John wasn’t just a good inmate, he was a good man. I don’t
know what road led him to Menard because I didn’t know the man
who traveled it. I knew the man who was the result of that journey
and I’m a better person for knowing him.
In my time on death row I have noticed that there is a tendency for
people in prison to tell endless stories of better times or past glory
to in order project a better image of themselves. John didn’t
tell stories. He just talked to you. When you talked, he listened.
What was going on with someone now? How were they feeling? What help
could he offer? These were the things that concerned him.
John and I would talk about science, art, politics and any number
of things to stimulate the mind. We also talked quite a bit about
religion. John was a Born-Again Christian and I was not, so there
was fertile ground for debate. But there was no debate. John was such
a devout believer that he couldn’t conceive of another possibility.
When he spoke of his religion, there was no malice in his words, no
attempt to make me feel “wrong.” He simply spoke with absolute
and total conviction. I really admired that. He would hear my argument,
but he would never be swayed. John died as a man who was absolutely
certain he would meet God. Not many people can say the same thing.
John was a big Star-Trek fan. That’s how I first got to know
him. Most people like Star-Trek, but few will admit it. We wore our
nerdiness like badges of honor. We could quote the shows to each other
chapter and verse and we always argued about plot oversights and what
we would consider to be the good and bad aspects of the show.
John was very insightful and he thought before he spoke, so I knew
I’d better be prepared if I was going to disagree with him. He
was also a fan of the first season of the show 24. I mention this
because we’d argue endlessly about this one particular aspect
of the show. He said there was more to it and I said that there wasn’t.
We were both anxious to see who was right. John died on a Monday morning.
The following night when 24 came, the episode revealed that John was
right. In fact, the point he had been talking about turned out to
be a crucial plot aspect of the show.
Occasionally, John would tell me about married life in the 70’s,
and I know that he loved his mother very much. But for the most part,
he seemed concerned with being the best possible person he could be
right here, right now. He wasn’t afraid to be himself. He was
kind, decent and compassionate. He was always available to help others
and wasn’t too proud to ask for help when he needed it. He had
an intelligent sense of humor, but could also laugh at the lowest
of low-brow humor.
John Whitehead was a good man and a very good friend. He is missed.
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Illinois Coalition to Abolish The Death Penalty