Louis Jones was a father, and he was a good one. He loved his daughter, Barbara, who was with him during the last day and night of his life. Barbara loved him and credits him with being a stabilizing force in her life, even during the last eight years while he was in prison. Barbara and her children are mourning the loss of a father and grandfather this morning.

Louis Jones was a soldier. He served honorably for 22 years as an Army Airborne Ranger, placing himself in harm's way to protect our freedom. He retired as a Master Sergeant, one of the highest ranks attainable by an enlisted soldier, and was highly decorated, including recognition for combat service. It was during military service in the Gulf War that he was exposed to chemical weapons, including nerve gas. We now know that exposure caused brain damage and the resulting predisposition to violent behavior that provides a key piece of the puzzle of how a man of Louis Jones's history and character could commit the crime he did.

As a soldier, he touched the lives of many, including those with whom he served and others who did not know him, but who knew of his story. In the last days and months, as we fought to save his life, veterans groups added their voices to those of politicians who called on President Bush to understand the link between Sergeant Jones's military service and his crime--to avoid the senseless irony of the United States government's putting a soldier to death for an act that might not have occurred but for his military service.

Louis Jones was a soldier in life and a soldier to the end. He understood that he had been sentenced to death for a brutal crime, and although he had a human desire for life, he accepted his punishment with strength and dignity--he faced his death as a soldier.

Louis Jones was a man of deep faith. He had put his trust in his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ and had powerfully experienced God's grace, forgiveness, and redemption. He lived out that faith the best way that he could from prison. Just as he did during his military service, he touched the lives of those around him during his eight years of confinement, including other inmates and many of the prison staff. And, he went to his death confident of God's sustaining presence in his life. That confidence provided strength to those of us who were here to strengthen and support him.

I and others who knew him will remember Louis Jones as a father, soldier, friend, and man of faith. His execution should give us pause--and require all of us to ask whether, in executing a person like Lou Jones, we erode the compassionate mercy that is at the core of justice and diminish the quality of mercy that we all need to get along with each other and in the world.