Foreword by Sister Helen Prejean Preface by Bill Moyers Prologue: A Long Way from Home for All of Us PART ONE: FAMILY Chapter One: It Started with a Phone Call . . . and Poetry Chapter Two: From the Back of the Courtroom Chapter Three: Daddies and Daughters . . . and a Personal Shopper Chapter Four: His Own Safety Net Chapter Five: Life in the Big City Chapter Six: Guilt (Mine) Chapter Seven: The Definition of Family Chapter Eight: The Cracks in Our Walls PART TWO: THE NIGHTMARE Chapter Nine: Surprise! We Should’ve Been Paying Attention Chapter Ten: “What a Family Is Suppose to Feel Like” Chapter Eleven: Connecting with Another Execution Chapter Twelve: Tick Tock Chapter Thirteen: Friends in High Places Chapter Fourteen: Protestors Chapter Fifteen: We Didn’t Think They Would Really Kill Him Chapter Sixteen: They Showed Up Chapter Seventeen: Deciding Which Lives Are Worth Sparing Chapter Eighteen: It Was Time We Knew Chapter Nineteen: More Puzzle Pieces Chapter Twenty: Thou Shall Not Kill—No Asterisk Acknowledgments Notes About the Author

"This is Suzanne Craig Robertson’s moving story of a death in Tennessee. While disquieting and troubling, the story is gracefully intimate, respectful of all parties, tender and moving. She subtly honors the emotions inevitable in a story of innocence and guilt; of our collectively taking a life; of race and politics, right and wrong, and of wrestling with questions haunted by biblical memories that we confront every day." —Bill Moyers“. . . He Called Me Sister is more than a heartwarming portrait of an unlikely friendship, a model of successful lay ministry, and an illustration of problems with the death penalty that will speak to Christians across the political spectrum. It’s also a testimony, in the sense that it accomplishes what it portrays: a change of heart.”—Christian Century"Here’s the truth: I choked up on the dedication page of this book and now, weeks later, I am still tearing up at random moments, still thinking about this incredibly moving story. Suzanne Robertson takes us with her and her family on a journey to a place that few of us want to see or understand better—but, for the sake of our humanity and community, desperately need to: Death Row. We are introduced to an inmate, Cecil Johnson, who is also a poet, a cook, a football fan, a once-neglected child, a family member, a friend, and a man for whom the justice system did not work as it should. To my amazement, the author gives us moments to laugh on this journey, moments of wonder and even beauty—as well as plenty of moments to weep. He Called Me Sister is a story of becoming family with someone whose life experiences could not be more different, a tale of tragedy and mishandled evidence and crushed dreams—but also of authentic connection and goodness and hope. He Called Me Sister is a must read for all those who are pro-death penalty, all those who are anti-death penalty and, truly, everyone in between." —Joy Jordan-Lake, bestselling author of A Tangled Mercy and Why Jesus Makes Me Nervous"In this carefully reported, heartrending story of her family’s personal relationship with a Death Row prisoner, Suzanne Craig Robertson interrogates the justice system’s deep inequities, as well as her own journey from trusting in the system to seeing it for what it is—human-made, biased, and deeply flawed. He Called Me Sister is a captivating story of the power of showing up for one another, of choosing to be in community even in the face of ultimate unknowns." —Erin Keane, author of Runaway: Notes of the Myths that Made Me"Pregnant with a sense of tragedy and wrestling with what could have been, He Called Me Sister is a touching memoir about how faith and love reached beyond prison bars."—{::}Foreword Review**

PREFACEFor the first time in the fifteen years that Suzanne Craig Robertson has been coming to Nashville’s Riverbend Maximum Security Institution, she is here alone. She and her husband Alan have always visited together, but he is away on urgent business, and she has come on because time is short and Cecil Johnson has but a few days to live. She pauses at the entrance, then walks through a series of slow-opening gates, surrounded by loops of fourteen-foot fences topped by sharp concertina wire. Her eye catches the razor wires that slice behind the landscaping, then registers the huge, red-and-white-striped tent and the remote satellite dishes extending skyward from boxy news vans “like claws searching for prey.” She moves more slowly, taking in the “beautiful, cold and clear day,” wondering “if Cecil will get to see such a sight again … ,” knowing it isn’t likely. After she turns into the next building, a guard takes her elbow and guides her a different and unfamiliar way, not the usual route to death row. They go through a visiting room, past vending machines where she and her family had bought candy, drinks, and potato chips for Cecil over the years. She stops as she feels the first of many waves of nausea. There, she sees a door she has never noticed before. And she realizes: the death chamber is behind the snacks. With this summation I have brought you to the lip of Suzanne Robertson’s moving story of a death in Tennessee. As she lived it, so did others, and she has searched their records, accounts, and testimonies to painstakingly produce this compelling, sad, puzzling, and inspiring book. Inspiring because while the story is both disquieting and troubling, it is gracefully intimate, respectful of all parties, tender and moving. As I read, I kept thinking of the prime-time documentary I reported for CBS News in 1977 of the execution by a five-man firing squad of the convicted killer Gary Gilmore—the first execution since the Supreme Court had declared a moratorium on state killing ten years earlier. I still sense emotions I had experienced then, emotions I tried to set aside out of concern for “objectivity.” But there was nothing “objective” about the way I felt interviewing Gilmore’s brother as we waited for the sound of rifle fire. Occasionally I still dream from that week. So, readers, Suzanne Craig Robertson does us a great service. She subtly honors the emotions inevitable in a story of innocence and guilt; of our collectively taking a life; of race and politics, right and wrong, and of wrestling with questions haunted by biblical memories that we confront every day, in this and every year of our Lord: Are we not brothers? Are you not my sister? Are we not a family?Bill MoyersAugust 2022