A Question of Culpability

There they flagged down Eric Nesbitt, a redheaded airman from Upstate New York stationed at nearby Langley Air Force Base.

At 21, Nesbitt was helpful by nature, the oldest of six children, an Eagle Scout. In high school, he ran track, worked on a dairy farm part time and volunteered with the local fire and rescue squads. After graduation, he joined the Air Force and was up for his first big promotion; he already had new uniforms bearing his higher rank lined up in his closet.

That night, Nesbitt had worked an evening shift at his second job in an auto parts store, then stopped at 7-Eleven for a Mountain Dew and corn chips on his way home. He was driving his beloved Nissan pickup when Atkins and Jones shoved their way into his truck.

Jones took the wheel, and Atkins took money from the airman's wallet: $60, he later testified. They drove to an automated teller machine, where they ordered Nesbitt to withdraw $200 more -- and where a bank camera photographed them.

Driving away, Atkins and Jones talked about tying Nesbitt up and leaving him somewhere. "Yes, tie me up," the airman had urged, according to Jones's testimony, "as long as you just don't hurt me."

But once they stopped, in a secluded area of York County, everything changed. In a matter of minutes, Nesbitt was down, struck by eight bullets and left to die by the side of the road. Atkins was shot in the leg.

Both Atkins and Jones would later say the other man pulled the trigger. Jones told his story at Atkins's trial as part of a plea agreement that spared him the possibility of a death sentence. Atkins took the stand, too, but prosecutors stressed how lies he told in a police interview -- and a jail cellmate testified that Atkins admitted to shooting at Nesbitt.

Atkins talked about being so high that he shot himself in the leg, said the cellmate, who quoted Atkins as saying he "shot at the boy to scare him, and that he freaked out."

Two Death Sentences

A day after Atkins was convicted of murder, in February 1998, a forensic psychologist told jurors that Atkins was mentally retarded, with a history of failure in school and an IQ of 59, in the lowest 1 percent of the U.S. population.

"Being mildly mentally retarded does not mean you're necessarily illiterate," the psychologist, Evan Nelson, told jurors at the sentencing. "It means it's harder to reason; it's harder to learn any kind of new information or skill. It's harder to get a job."

Atkins's attorneys pleaded for a life sentence, based on his mental deficiencies.

But on Feb. 14, 1998, the jury voted for a death sentence.