EXECUTION JOURNAL : Bay Area Gets Ready for a Day of Death

They had seen Gov. Pete Wilson on television, the teen-agers said, and suddenly something had changed. Sure, they had heard about Robert Alton Harris before, about the boys he had killed and the punishment he was scheduled to receive.

But when Wilson declined to spare Harris’ life, the three high school girls from Novato said it became more real: For the first time in their lives, it was likely that the state will execute a man at San Quentin, the prison they had grown up so near.

Hey, one girl had asked the others, have you ever been there? And a few minutes later, they were there, standing in the late-night drizzle outside the prison gates, watching the slow procession of cars that signals the 11 p.m. shift change.

“We’re scoping,” said one girl, prompting nervous giggles from her friends. When they heard that the execution was set for 12:01 a.m. Tuesday--the witching hour!--they giggled some more.

“Oh, awesome,” one of them said. “Let’s come back then!”

In the wake of Wilson’s ruling, residents of the Bay Area began getting ready for a killing.

Perhaps more than most, people who live around here know the importance of being prepared. The October, 1989, earthquake taught them that lesson, rewarding those who had kept flashlights handy and leaving others stranded in the dark.

So, despite the last-minute appeal filed Friday, the weekend began with a feeling of inevitability. Herb Caen, the dean of San Francisco’s newspaper columnists, used the probable execution as an excuse to discuss Californians’ growing lack of compassion.

“We are not as civilized as we would like to think,” he wrote. “Now that’s degrading.”

An attorney who visited a Death Row inmate Friday said the prisoner put it this way: “It’s reality-check time.”

The news media has been preparing for months. Determined to reserve work space, parking spots and telephones, news organizations approached residents of San Quentin Village, the little town that abuts the prison property, and offered them money--reportedly thousands of dollars.

On Friday, residents who had taken the media up on their offers were moving out. Even death penalty opponents admitted to feeling that there was little more they could do. Two years ago, the last time Harris was scheduled to be executed, Steve Souza, 37, slept outside the prison for weeks, capping his protest with a seven-day hunger strike. This time, the Davis resident said he was planning to come back again--but just for the weekend.

“I still feel like I have to say that the state should not do this in my name,” he said, even though there is little hope that his protest would have the desired effect.

Brian Gordon, 26, spent Friday at Fisherman’s Wharf, in sight of the Bay Area’s other famous prison, Alcatraz.

The San Francisco resident said that as the execution drew nearer, he was having trouble reconciling his feelings.

“I’ve always considered myself to support the death penalty,” he said. “But now that it’s upcoming, I’ve started to wonder if anyone has the right. I never thought I would feel that way, but I do. You don’t tend to think about it until you see it coming.”

Nearby, however, Clifford Eubanks said he was as ready as he would ever be to see Harris go.

The Sacramento resident and his wife, Vonda, were dressed in mock prison uniforms, waiting to get their photo taken at the Alcatraz instant photo booth.

“There’s no preparation I need to do,” Eubanks said. “We put so much emphasis on the criminal. But crime is rampant all over the place. There’s got to be a situation where we can put these people away.”

Eubanks paid his $3 and took his place behind the simulated prison bars. Then, a vendor named Frank put a ball and chain in Eubanks’ hand and slipped a noose around his neck.

Frank aimed his camera. “Don’t smile,” he said.