Joe Arridy: The Mentally Disabled Man Executed For A Grisly Murder He Didn’t Commit
Joe Arridy didn't request a final meal, and it's doubtful he comprehended the notion. At just 23 years old, he possessed an IQ of 46. As he was led to his death he asked that the ice-cream he had been eating be put in the freezer so he could finish it upon his return. He understood tangible experiences like eating, playing, and trains, but abstract concepts such as God, justice, and evil remained beyond his grasp. Described by doctors as an imbecile—a term used in those times for individuals with the mental capacity of a child between four and six years old—Arridy was considered more capable than an idiot but not as sharp as a moron.
Born in Pueblo, Colorado, Arridy didn't speak for the first five years of his life. After he attended one year at elementary school, his principal told his parents to keep him at home, saying that he could not learn. After losing his job a few years later, his father appealed to friends to help him find a place for his son. Arridy was admitted at the age of ten to the State Home and Training School for Mental Defectives in Grand Junction, Colorado, where he lived on and off for eleven years until becoming a young adult. Examiners at the home also had Arridy's family undergo several psychological tests and concluded that his mother Mary was "probably feeble-minded" and his younger brother George considered a "high moron".
Both in his neighbourhood and at the school, he was often mistreated and beaten by his peers. In 1929, while living back in Pueblo, Arridy was sexually assaulted by a group of teen boys, who sodomised him and forced Arridy to perform oral sex on them, leading to his recommittal. He left the school and hopped on freight railcars to leave the city, ending up at the age of 21 in the railyards of Cheyenne, Wyoming, by late August 1936.
He'd been found guilty of one of the most horrific crimes in the tough steel-mill town's history: the rape and axe murder of fifteen-year-old Dorothy Drain, the daughter of a prominent local official and granddaughter of a former state legislator. News accounts described how Arridy, an escapee from a home for the feeble-minded, had confessed to the attack, re-enacted it for police at the crime scene and fingered his partner, Frank Aguilar, a Mexican immigrant. Both men got the gas for their deeds.
In the newspapers of the 1930s, he was given other disparaging labels: "Feeble-minded killer," "Weak-witted sex slayer," "Perverted maniac." Similar to Ricky Ray Rector, the lobotomised Arkansas convict who, before his execution, reserved a slice of pecan pie in his cell "for later," Arridy struggled to comprehend the irreversible nature of his impending fate. The mystery of death confounded minds far more profound than Joe Arridy's. How could he be expected to grasp the significance of a last meal ritual?
When offered the opportunity to choose his meal, Joe Arridy requested ice cream—lots of it. Ice cream consumed his thoughts, bringing him joy alongside his toy train, which he cherished as his idea of amusement.
Hour after hour, day after day, Arridy would extend his hand through the cell bars, sending his wind-up train chugging down the death row corridor at the Colorado State Penitentiary. Other condemned prisoners would reach out from their cells, causing distractions, train wrecks, and rescues that elicited laughter from Arridy. Then, they would return the train to its delighted owner for another exhilarating ride.
However, on the final day—January 6, 1939—the train's usual activity was interrupted by a farewell visit from Joe's mother, aunt, cousin, and fourteen-year-old sister. His mother trembled and wept, while Joe, dry-eyed and bewildered, looked on. After the women departed, Joe resumed playing with his beloved train.
Later that evening, Warden Roy Best and Prison Chaplain Father Albert Schaller visited Arridy to prepare him for the journey ahead. Minutes earlier, the Colorado Supreme Court had denied a final petition for a stay of execution by a narrow vote of four to three, and Governor Teller Ammons had instructed Best to proceed with the sentence. Father Schaller informed Arridy that he would have to relinquish his train, but reassured him that he would exchange it for a golden harp.
When asked about his upcoming execution, Arridy exhibited a "blank bewilderment". He failed to comprehend the significance of the gas chamber, adamantly stating to the warden, "No, no, Joe won't die." Prior to departing from his prison block, Arridy made a point to visit each cell, shaking hands with every inmate to bid farewell.
Arridy grew distressed upon learning that he couldn't bring his toy train along, opting instead to pass it on to another inmate. Nonetheless, reports indicate that he smiled as he entered the gas chamber. Following the administration of his last rites and as he sat inside the chamber, Arridy's smile briefly waned when he was blindfolded for the execution. However, he regained composure when the warden clasped his hand and offered reassurance. The victim's family opted not to witness the execution. During the proceedings, Warden Roy Best was observed shedding tears, pleading with Governor Teller Ammons to commute Arridy's sentence prior to the execution. Despite the pleas, Ammons declined to grant clemency or pardon Arridy.
What a travesty. And to see the fellow prisoners understanding him unlike the system. To have the warden and employees be there for him in such a sad scene, a testament to Arridy. Thankfully God is merciful to such in the rest of his journey.