Reporter Volume 26, No.23 April 6, 1995 By STEVE COX Reporter Staff In September, 1968, two sheriff's deputies were transporting Charles Culhane, Gary McGivern and Robert Bowerman from Auburn Correctional Facility to the Westchester County Courthouse for court appearances. It was a ride that changed all five lives forever. Pulling off the New York State Thruway, the inmates attempted to escape. Gunshots rang out and when it was over, Bowerman and Deputy Sheriff William Fitzgerald were dead; another deputy was wounded. Culhane and McGivern found themselves facing charges that would ultimately lead to their being sentenced to die in the state's electric chair. Today, Culhane, 50, a noted prison poet and playwright who spent 33 months on death row, is completing his master's degree in American Studies here at UB. Imprisoned almost continuously since he was 21, Culhane now teaches a course on a subject he knows all too well: People in Institutions. "I didn't let the students in my class know that I had been on the inside until about halfway through the semester. They were really surprised," said Culhane. Culhane earned his associate's and bachelor's degrees during his years as an inmate at Greenhaven and Woodburne Correctional Facilities. He began his master's degree coursework through UB while he was at Wende Correctional Facility. In 1971, Culhane's conviction in Westchester County earned him a small cell in what was then Greenhaven State Prison, just a few hundred feet from the electric chair. He was notified that he would be put to death in April, although that date was deferred pending appeal. Culhane awaited execution for 18 months, until, in June of 1972, the death penalty was held to be unconstitutional by the U.S. Supreme Court. Still, it was more than a year before Culhane left death row after the N.Y.S. Court of Appeals overturned his conviction. Although the Supreme Court later reversed itself, holding in 1976 that the death penalty was constitutional,vetoes by democratic Governors Carey and Cuomo kept the death penalty from returning to New York until this year. Altogether, Culhane and McGivern were tried three times for the murder of Deputy Fitzgerald. Prosecutors alleged McGivern was the actual shooter. A 1970 trial ended in a hung jury. In 1971, they were both convicted and sentenced to death, but that conviction was later overturned. At their third trial, in 1974, they were again convicted, this time of felony murder, and sentenced to 25-years-to-life. Both Culhane and McGivern insisted throughout the trials that Bowerman, the deceased inmate, had acted alone in the escape attempt, shooting the deputies with one of their own service revolvers. "The prosecution was very charged," recalls Culhane, "because, you know, it was a cop." In overturning their first conviction, Culhane recalled, the state Court of Appeals commented that the prosecution "presents substantial questions about the credibility of their case." The second conviction, drew much criticism in legal circles, since the underlying crime of attempted escape was only a misdemeanor in 1968. However, appeals of that issue failed in the courts. "Before that conviction, Kavanaugh (the district attorney) offered us manslaughter, which would have made us eligible for parole almost immediately," explained Culhane, "but that would have been an admission of guilt, and we were not guilty." McGivern earned the support of religious and political leaders, including New York Catholic Bishop Paul Moore, folk singer Pete Seeger and conservative columnist William F. Buckley, during his campaign to be exonerated. Among the believers was Mario Cuomo. Cuomo investigated the case thoroughly in 1979, while serving as lieutenant governor. He recommended clemency to his boss, then-Gov. Hugh Carey, who declined. "Gary (McGivern) took two polygraph tests during that investigation, and passed both," explained Culhane, "but the surviving deputy, still refuses to take a polygraph." In 1985, Gov. Cuomo stirred controversy when he granted McGivern clemency. Three years later, McGivern was paroled. "It was just assumed that once Gary was granted clemency, I would be, too," recalls Culhane. However, the political heat proved too much for Cuomo, said Culhane, whose clemency application was rejected. Despite spending most of his adult life in prison, Culhane says he's lucky. "I always had a lot of hope that, someday I would be cleared. That hope kept me going. I was also lucky when I got out," Culhane said, "that, even after all that time, I had a family and friends and a job to come out to." Today, Culhane added, conditions are better than when he was first in prison, during the Attica uprising, but far too many people are incarcerated. The prison population in New York has grown from 12,000 to 70,000 in the last two decades. Culhane blames mandatory sentencing and second felony offender laws, as well as tougher drug laws, for the overcrowding. "If you are the CEO of Exxon and you destroy the ecology of a state, you get a fine. If you're a kid who sells two bags of crack cocaine on the corner, you go to prison," observed Culhane. "Since the crack dealer went to prison and the CEO did not, the crack dealer is seen as the criminal."