We need to consider limits of society’s punishment

Never have I felt more emotion in such a small space.

Nearly 10 years ago, in a

Palm Beach County courtroom, members of Paul Michael Merhige’s family gathered for the first time since Merhige killed four family members during Thanksgiving dinner.

There were Merhige’s parents, Carole and Michael. Their son killed their twin daughters, Carla and Lisa. Carole Merhige said, “I lost three children in one day.”

There was Patrick Knight. He had been married to Lisa, who was pregnant. There was the uncle, Antoine Joseph, who survived only because Merhige’s gun jammed. Joseph’s wife, Raymonde, was killed.

There were Muriel and Jim Sitton. Merhige shot their six-year-old daughter in the head. Makayla Sitton was Merhige’s cousin. The Sittons had hosted the dinner.

I recalled that moment when Nikolas Cruz said last week that he would plead guilty to the obvious — killing 17 people and trying to kill 17 others at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. Assuming that happens, next will come the trial to determine whether Cruz gets the death penalty or life without parole.

With Merhige, it never happened. Those families met to hear Judge Joe Marx approve a plea deal that would sentence Merhige to seven consecutive life terms.

There is no talk of a similar deal between Broward County State Attorney Harold Pryor and Public Defender Gordon Weekes. Cruz left far more victims. The case made international news and forever linked the school and the city of Parkland to tragedy.

But there are similarities: no doubt about guilt; arguments for and against the death penalty. So what outcome would represent justice?

A decade ago, then-Palm Beach County State Attorney Michael McAuliffe and Public Defender Carey Haughwout — who remains in office — believed that life without parole was the proper resolution. Though the deal spared Merhige’s life, it spared the victims’ families two trials.

It also spared the families years of having to revisit the case. Haughwout wanted to argue an insanity defense. A death sentence would have meant regular appeals, perhaps until Merhige died. Between 2000 and 2011, more Death Row inmates died on their own than were executed.

You heard that sentiment last week from Linda Schulman. Her son — teacher and coach Scott Beigel — was killed at Stoneman Douglas. “I want to be alive,” Schulman said, “when this case comes to an end.” Other family members want Cruz to be executed, however long it takes.

Makayla Sitton’s parents wanted the death penalty. Jim Sitton fell on his knees, clutching a lock of his daughter’s hair. Between sobs, Sitton said it was all he had left. He begged Marx to reject the deal.

Marx could relate to everyone in the room. He had lost his first wife to a mass shooting. She was pregnant. The killer was sentenced to death, then resentenced to life without parole.

Despite the Sittons’ opposition, all other family members supported the deal. Patrick

Knight, the last of six witnesses, expressed their sentiment.

Knight had been wounded so badly that doctors placed him in a medically induced coma. He had to learn “how to do everything” over again.

“He tried to take everything,” Knight said of Merhige, “but he failed. He cannot defeat me. And I hope that after today, he’s forgotten.”

Knight’s hope came true. Until now, Merhige’s name has not appeared in a Florida newspaper for at least the last five years. He’s just another inmate at Sumter Correctional Institution west of Orlando.

Cruz will not fade away. Debates over firearms regulation and school safety will cite Stoneman Douglas. Merhige terrorized a family. Cruz terrorized society.

In both cases, though, society cannot restore what the victims lost. Society only can try to give some certainty.

Which was Patrick Knight’s point. Which made me think of Thomas Chappell.

His son was a West Palm Beach police officer. In 1988, Norbeto Pietri killed Brian Chappell during a traffic stop.

Thomas Chappell dedicated himself to seeing Pietri’s death sentence carried out. Each time the Palm Beach Post, where I was editorial page editor, ran commentary opposing capital punishment, Thomas Chappell wrote a letter supporting it.

Thomas Chappell died in 2014. Pietri remains on Death Row.