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Monday, July 5, 2010

Convicted NYPD cop killer spared death penalty

Hopefully the DA can appeal the verdict in this.....


Widows victimized once more as double cop killer Ronell Wilson avoids death penalty
Michael Daly

Thursday, July 1st 2010, 4:00 AM


B. Smith for NewsDetective Maryann Andrews, widow of slain Detective Rodney Andrews, wells up with tears after federal appeals court overturned jury verdict sentencing cop killer Ronell Wilson to death.

Xanthos for NewsDetective James Nemorin, the other officer killed by Wilson with his family.



After the death penalty was imposed and he was being led from a courtroom for what seemed the last time, Ronell Wilson turned to the grieving loved ones of the two detectives he had murdered in coldest blood.

This loathsome mutt made the only gesture of contempt he could manage in handcuffs.


He stuck out his tongue.

He did that despite having heard the searing and tearful testimony of the families of Detectives Rodney (Jay) Andrews and James Nemorin in the penalty phase of the trial.

Wilson had listened to Rose Nemorin say, "I am the widow of Detective James V. Nemorin. James, my hero, my husband and the father of my three children: Stephan, 11; Rudolphe, 8, and Sarah, 5 years old. ...

"He once told me, 'Rosie, I am one of the happiest men in the world. I have a beautiful wife whom I love very much, three beautiful children who I love so much and a great job that I love. Rosie, I made success.'"

Wilson had also heard her say, "We no longer celebrate Father's Day at home. Instead, we go to the cemetery and I get to watch our children talk and hug a cold wall. It breaks my heart to see my children leaving notes, gifts and hugging a piece of cold wall.

"The children's notes read: 'I love you, Daddy. I miss you. We wish you were here to celebrate Father's Day with us. We hope you are having a good time in heaven with God.'"

And Wilson had listened to Maryann Andrews say, "Rodney was my best friend, the love of my life, my first love, my husband, the father to my two boys."

The older boy, Christian Andrews, then just 16, had also testified, saying, "He was the best dad I could ask for."

When his turn came, Wilson chose not to take the stand and expose himself to cross-examination that might call his sincerity into question. He instead read a statement to the jury from the defendant's table.

"I want you to understand my deepest sorrow toward the victims' family and friends. ... I am not good with words. I wish I could explain myself more better, but I am not truly ..."

Wilson slipped. He caught himself.

"...but I am truly sorry for the pain I have caused them all. ... I say it again and again, I am so sorry ... I know that the victims' families may not accept my apology, but I pray that God will give them all the comfort and strength that they need to move on from this tragedy. Thank you."

The outraged prosecutors took a step beyond the strictest constitutional guidelines, suggesting to the jury that if Wilson's remorse were genuine he could have expressed it from the witness stand or simply pleaded guilty in the first place.

That is the technical overstep the appeals court cited in tossing out the 2007 sentence, even though it made no material difference. The jury had needed no extra persuading.

Anybody who watched Wilson during the trial knew that his true attitude was reflected with succinct exactitude by what a crony testified he had said when asked why he killed the detectives that night in 2003.

"I don't give a f--k about nobody."

Once the jury proved unswayed and sentence was imposed, the real Wilson showed himself for all to see by making that final gesture of contempt.

The one comfort for the widows was there would be no more courtroom horrors as they struggled to raise their fatherless kids.

Or so it seemed until the appeals court threw out the sentence yesterday. Nemorin's widow was too distraught to attend a Detectives' Endowment Association press conference. Andrews, who is a detective, was there, but too filled with pain to give it voice.

"I can't," she said, fighting tears. "It's just too much."

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