Cisco Porter has a full head of salt-and-pepper hair. At 70, he moves and acts like someone much younger. With his wire-rimmed glasses and neatly trimmed beard, he looks like a professor. His most distinguishing characteristic is his easygoing sense of humor — and he has the most unique tattoo I’ve seen in 28 years of incarceration.
On the palm side of his left forearm is a tattoo of Count Dracula embracing a nude woman. It’s well done, too.
I’ve known Porter for 13 years. He has been a mentor and a big brother. Not just to me, but for over 100 men who also work at the tag plant making Florida license plates. Porter has heart. I’ve seen him make the biggest bully in the cellblock back down, including one who was twice his size. He never even raised his voice, he just told the bully: “Come down here.”
To conduct this interview, we met at the tag plant multiple times, in 10- to 15-minute increments. This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Q: How long were you on death row?
Porter: I was on death row for 21 years and sent to death watch twice. [Editor’s note: Death watch is the status and special housing assigned to someone after the governor signs their death warrant and sets their execution date.]
Q: Describe death watch.
Porter: My death warrant was signed twice. When your death warrant is signed, two officers and a “white shirt” come to your cell. [Editor’s note: A “white shirt” is a high-ranking officer, typically a lieutenant or above.] They don’t keep it a secret about why they are there. They allow you to take your address book so you can call your family and let them know.
Both times I was taken to the warden’s office, and he told me a death warrant had been signed, that the execution had been set for a day and time. After that I was escorted to the wing where the death chamber is located. My personal property was already there. The TV and my radio were on a table outside my cell.
Everyone faces death watch in their own way.
I did artwork and calligraphy while I was there to leave something behind. I was more worried about getting my artwork done than my upcoming death. The date was set and that was out of my hands. I was at peace. My kids and my mother were in the forefront of my mind.
Q: How was your death sentence overturned?
Porter: My death sentence was overturned for one reason: The judge couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He bragged over coffee with a clerk that he intended to convict the “SOB” and send him to the chair. That’s called judicial bias. [Editor’s note: The Florida Supreme Court found in 1998 that the judge in Porter’s case was not impartial, violating Porter’s constitutional right to due process. Porter was entitled to a resentencing hearing and the jury’s original recommendation of a life sentence.]
Q: If you could tell the public about death row, or capital punishment, what would you say?
Porter: There is nothing I can do or say to correct what was done in 1978. The bottom line is that I’m responsible for the deaths of two human beings. That’s something I’ll never forget.
When it comes to the issue of the death penalty, there are plenty of arguments for and against it. I can understand why a family member would call for a death sentence. What I can’t understand is people across the street screaming for someone to die on the day of the execution, when they don’t know the circumstances of the alleged murder and didn’t know anyone involved. And yet they want someone put to death.
The state of Florida has more exonerations than any other state, and I personally have no doubt that innocent people have been executed by the state. Once that switch is pulled or the needle plunged, there is no turning back.
Q: Say more about your personal views.
Porter: I have plenty to say about the death penalty. I personally see a couple of things wrong. Politics should never be involved, yet there are politicians who run on the death penalty. They build their political career on killing people. It’s the state attorney who decides whether the death penalty is on the table or not, not the jury.
There are a lot of people who want to shorten the amount of time an inmate waits for execution. It takes a lot of time for DNA proof to surface, and those inmates would have been executed if the appeal process had been cut shorter. No one should oppose the truth coming out.
Q: What was it like getting off death row?
Porter: After I got off death row in 1999 and was reclassified and sent to Union Correctional Institution, the first night I was asked by the security officer to get a battery for his radio from the control room. Going outside, I looked up and saw the stars for the first time in 21 years.
Since that time, I’ve accepted that this is where I’m at. It’s been over 25 years since I got off the row, and now I find myself in a position where I assist inmates who are getting out of prison.
I help them learn about computers and set up a place to live if they don’t have one when they get out. I live in a cellblock with other lifers. We support the community on the outside with greeting cards for the children’s hospital, nursing homes and homeless veterans. I have purpose, and probably better than I deserve, but I’ll take it and make the best of it. Not just for myself but also for those around me.
And I still get to see the stars from time to time.
