Prisoner in Death Row

The state of Pennsylvania had a governor named Pollock. During his administration, a young man, the only son of a widow in the mountains of central Pennsylvania, committed a crime—killed his dearest friend in a drunken brawl. He was condemned to death, sent to Harrisburg, and put into the old Eastern Penitentiary to die. Different people pleaded for him.

The citizens got together and sent a plea, “His mother is a widow; he is her only support; he did it when he was drunk.” They sent a delegation to see Governor Pollock, and they said, “Can’t you let this young man off, or at least commute his sentence to life imprisonment?” His mother is a widow, and he is her only son. Her heart will be broken, and she will die, governor, if you don’t do it.”

He said, “Gentlemen, I’m sorry. I have sworn to uphold the law, and the law must take its course.” Then the ministers of the time, with a Jewish rabbi and the Catholic priest, got together, and went down to see Governor Pollock.

He heard their pleas, but said, “Gentlemen, the law must take its course. I can’t pardon him.” Then last of all, his mother went.

The governor didn’t want to see her, but it was his duty; so she went, weak and trembling, her cheeks sunken, her lips ashen, her hair disheveled, her clothing unkempt. She staggered and dragged her way into the governor’s presence, and, oh, how she pled for her boy! She said, “Oh, governor, don’t kill my boy; he’s all I’ve got. Don’t kill my boy, governor.

Oh, governor, let me die in his place. Don’t kill my boy.” And she fell fainting to the floor. The governor picked her up tenderly and laid the poor emaciated form on the sofa there.

Tears ran down his face as he walked out of the room and said to his secretary, “John, if I can’t pardon him, I can at least tell him how to die.” So Governor Pollock took his Bible and went down to that old Eastern prison. He went down to that death cell. The young man did not know who he was.

The governor opened his Bible and read the great promises of God’s Word to that poor condemned boy. He read John 3:16 and 1 John 1:9. He read the story of the cross and of the thief on the cross. That day there was a soul born again.

Then the governor shook hands with the young man, wished him well for the terrible ordeal the next day, and went away. After he was gone, the boy turned to the guard and said, “Guard, who was that man who came in here and read the Bible and prayed with me?”

“Why,” came the reply, “don’t you know?” “That was Governor Pollock.” The young man threw his hands to his head. “Governor Pollock!”

He cried. “If I had known that was Governor Pollock I would have thrown my arms around him. I would have buried my fingers in his flesh and said, ‘governor, I won’t let you go until you pardon me.’” The next day he stood on the scaffold, his feet and hands tied, black cap and shroud on.

His last words were, “Oh, the governor here, and I …” He dropped down into eternity.