Pam Guettler of Spearfish has visited Elijah Page on death row more than a dozen times in the past year, and she says he has changed in the past couple months.

"You can just see the eyes just go deader and deader," Guettler said. "They don't sparkle no more."

Page is set to be executed the week of July 9 at the South Dakota penitentiary in Sioux Falls - barring an unlikely last-minute appeal. He pleaded guilty to his part in the torture and murder of 19-year-old Chester Allan Poage in Higgins Gulch near Spearfish on March 13, 2000.

One accomplice, Briley Piper, 26, is appealing his death sentence. Another, Darrell Hoadley, also 26, is serving a life sentence.

Page, now 25, has rejected the chance to appeal.

Gov. Mike Rounds, however, stayed Page's execution last Aug. 29, just hours before it was to be carried out, for fear the state's three-drug lethal-injection procedure didn't match the two-drug method called for in state law.

Guettler, who was with Page on that execution day, said he was willing to be executed with just two drugs, even after an attorney explained it might be more painful.

"He said go ahead and do it," Guettler said, adding Page had already eaten his "last meal."

Earlier this year, the Legislature changed state law to allow prison officials to use the three-drug method - or whatever method they choose - but because Page was sentenced before the new law, he gets to make a macabre choice of two drugs or three.

"Eli doesn't care if it's two drugs or three drugs," Guettler said.

Guettler first met Page shortly before the murder, when he dated her daughter, Misty. Pam Guettler saw something good in him right away - in his sense of humor and in the kind way he treated her daughter.

"I don't condone what he did," Guettler emphasized in an interview Thursday. "And I can't imagine what Dottie Poage is going through." (That's Chester Poage's mother, now of Rapid City.)

After his arrest in Texas, a few weeks after the crime, Page confessed to the murder in horrific, step-by-step detail, describing how Poage repeatedly begged for his life.

Judge Warren Johnson sentenced Piper and Page to die despite their confessions, citing the brutal nature of the murder.

They've been on death row 6-1/2 years.

During that time, Guettler and her husband, Art, and their son and daughter have stood by Page, visiting him monthly and, in recent weeks, twice a month.

"We've become closer and closer," Guettler said.

The Guettlers see Page in the prison's regular visiting area, but unlike other prisoners, who sit at tables with visitors, death-row inmates sit behind a window in a tiny room, using a telephone to communicate.

During each three-hour visit, Page is shackled to the floor and to a table. His dress is always the same: the white sneakers, gray sweatpants and white T-shirts that set the penitentiary's four death-row prisoners apart.

There are several sessions on visiting days. When the Guettlers have the 8 a.m. slot, they leave Spearfish at 2 a.m. for the drive across the state.

They prefer the later times, and so does Page - mainly because the visiting room is more crowded. "He can people watch," Guettler said.

Often during visits, Page lapses into silence. "We just sit there with him," Guettler said.

But they also try to keep the conversation going. "We talk about everything," she said.

Except two subjects.

Page never talks about his childhood, which was marred by severe neglect and abuse. "He's just a child who fell through the cracks," Guettler said, but Page himself hasn't blamed his upbringing for his crime. (He was matter-of-fact when he told Guettler that a stepfather who abused him had died.)

Page also doesn't talk about the crime. "That's one subject we stay away from," Guettler said.

Rather, they keep the discussion light.

For example, Page jokes with Art Guettler about procrastinating on projects at home. Page gets updates on Misty's three boys - ages 2, 3 and 5 - all born since Page has been on death row.

Guettler has long since given up trying to persuade Page to appeal his sentence.

One reason, she said, might be the prospect of spending the rest of his life in confinement. But she adds, "If Eli had a little bit of fresh air and was able to talk to people, I think he could spend the rest of his life in prison."

Still, the Guettlers and members of Page's family say the main reason he has given up his appeals is remorse.

"He's so sad," Guettler said.

She thinks this next execution day - three weeks away or less - will be even harder for her and Page's family than the first one.

Last August, she said, "You just poured your heart out to him."

Page could have a family member witness the execution, but Guettler said that, like last summer, he declined.

But Guettler will be in Sioux Falls for a last visit. She said Page's sister and father also plan to visit. For Guettler, it will be the end of a friendship maintained mostly on telephones and through a prison window into a very small room.

"It has changed my views completely," said Guettler, who used to favor the death penalty. "I would have said he deserved to die." Now, she's opposed to it. "It's taught me not to judge people. That's up to God."

Guettler still thinks there is something worth saving in Elijah Page - as evidenced by the occasional sparkle in his eye - even if he had to spend his life in prison.

But Guettler also is certain Page realizes the enormity of what he has done. She described the end of a recent visit: "I happened to look back, and I wished I wouldn't have. He was looking at us. That face was so full of sorrow."

Contact Bill Harlan at 394-8424 or bill.harlan@rapidcityjournal.com