HUNTSVILLE, Texas – They gathered Thursday by the high and foreboding red-brick facade of the Huntsville prison, known as "The Walls." Some had come to witness, some to protest and some to support what was about to happen.

A large white clock set in the bricks struck 5:50 p.m. State prison guards dressed in gray watched the commotion from watchtowers above. One snapped a photo.

Within minutes, officials would give a lethal injection to Michael Rodriguez, the first of the Texas Seven to be executed for their infamous killing of an Irving police officer on Christmas Eve 2000.

"We are here protesting the execution of Michael Rodriguez," shouted 62-year-old Gloria Rubac, holding a yellow banner that said, "Texas Death Penalty: Racist and Anti-poor."

"Because we don't believe the state of Texas has the right to murder people who murder people just to show that murdering is wrong," she yelled.

But at the other end of the wall, wearing blue ribbons, were police officers in uniform and members of the Patriot Guard Riders, a motorcycle gang dressed in leather and denim. Dozens of officers from across the state had come at the request of the dead officer's widow.

Seymour Police Chief Tommy Duncan was one of them.

"I just thought it might be something that I need to do, maybe for myself," he said.

Chief Duncan was shot by a burglar while on duty in 1975.

"Shot me right straight in the face," the chief said. He lost his left eye.

Aubrey Hawkins

Chief Duncan said he believes in the death penalty – an eye for an eye. "In my case, pretty much literally."

"That could be me," the chief said of Officer Aubrey Hawkins, the 29-year-old husband and father that Mr. Rodriguez helped kill seven years ago.

"We've got to show these people if you assault one of us, you assault all of us," Chief Duncan said.

Ms. Rubac sees it differently. As a member of Houston's Texas Death Penalty Abolition Movement, she said she can't remember how many executions she's come to protest.

"Maybe 200, maybe more. I've lost count," she said.

In 1993, she said, she witnessed the execution of a friend: "He and another guy robbed one of those money trucks and for some reason the other guy decided to start shooting. So they were both charged with capital murder."

But that's not why she's against the death penalty, she said, explaining it instead this way: "I grew up in the '60s and the civil rights movement."

The condemned man himself, however, disagreed with that point of view. Claiming a religious conversion on death row, he asked for years that his appeals be dropped so that he could face his punishment and stand a better chance at going to heaven.

VERNON BRYANT/DMN

Dozens of police officers from across Texas were among the crowd that assembled outside the Huntsville Unit, where one of the killers of Irving police Officer Aubrey Hawkins was executed. Officer Hawkins was killed by a group of prison escapees on Christmas Eve 2000.

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Before Mr. Rodriguez and six others overpowered workers at a maximum-security prison in South Texas in 2000, he had been serving a life sentence for paying a hit man $2,000 to kill his wife, Theresa Rodriguez, in 1992.

Ms. Rodriguez's sister, Yolanda Dalmolin, and Officer Hawkins' widow, Lori Hawkins-Acosta, were among those who came to witness Mr. Rodriguez's last breath.

At 6:02, Mr. Rodriguez was led to the execution chamber.

"May I speak now?" he asked.

"No, not yet," a prison official answered.

He was strapped to the gurney, and then his executioners pierced his arms with the needles, first the left, then the right.

At 6:10, he began his final words.

"I know this in no way makes up for all the pain and suffering I gave you," he began. "I am so, so sorry."

He looked directly at Ms. Dalmolin and Ms. Hawkins-Acosta.

"My punishment is nothing compared to the pain and sorrow I have caused. ... I am not strong enough to ask for forgiveness because I don't know if I am worthy," he continued.

"I ask the Lord to please forgive me. I have gained nothing, but just brought sorrow and pain to these wonderful people."

He kept apologizing, calling the families by name. He thanked a couple, Irene and Jack, for "helping me find Christ's love." His words turned to song.

"My Jesus, my Savior, there is none like you," he sang softly. "All of my days I want to praise, let every breath. Shout to the Lord, let us sing ...."

His song trailed off and turned to a sound like snoring. It was 6:13, and his lethal dose had begun. He was pronounced dead at 6:20.

They pulled a white sheet over his face.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.

The infamous "Texas Seven" were convicts who broke out of a South Texas prison in 2000. The gang was involved in the slaying of a police officer, then captured in Colorado after six weeks on the run. Here's a look at the seven, who, except for one who killed himself, were all convicted of capital murder and sentenced to death.

Michael Rodriguez, 45: Arrested with George Rivas, Randy Halprin and Joseph Garcia on Jan. 22, 2001, a day after police received a tip from a trailer park resident outside Colorado Springs, Colo. Born in Dallas, he was serving a life sentence for capital murder in San Antonio after his conviction for paying another man $2,000 to kill his wife so he could collect life insurance proceeds. Rodriguez's wife was shot in the head in July 1992 after she and her husband came home from a movie. She died on the floor of the garage at their San Antonio home. He has given up all appeals and is scheduled to die Thursday.

George Rivas, 37: The leader of the fugitives, at the time of the December 2000 prison break the El Paso native was serving 99 years for aggravated kidnapping and burglary. He and two other men robbed a sporting goods store in El Paso in April 1993. The robbers forced the employees to handcuff themselves and then escaped with money. More than a month later, they robbed a Toys 'R' Us but were caught while trying to escape. His appeal is at the federal district court in Dallas.

Joseph Garcia, 36: He was serving 50 years for murder in San Antonio. He stabbed Miguel Luna to death after the two men had a frustrating drive together and Luna gave bad directions. When Garcia stopped the car, Luna attacked him and grabbed his keys. Garcia chased Luna, jumped on him and stabbed him 19 times. Garcia, from Bexar County, said he acted in self-defense. His appeal is at the federal district court in Dallas.

Randy Halprin, 31: The Collin County native was serving 30 years for injury to a child, specifically, beating up a baby. He had met the mother in an Arlington homeless shelter in 1996 and moved in with the family. A month later, while the mother and two other children were playing in a different room, Halprin repeatedly beat the infant because, he later said, the baby would not stop crying. When the child was taken to the hospital the next day, doctors discovered broken arms, legs and a fractured skull. His appeal is at the trial court in Dallas.

Larry Harper, 37: Killed himself in January 2001 inside an RV at a mobile home park 50 miles southwest of Denver as police closed in. He was serving 50 years for aggravated sexual assault in El Paso, raped three women over six months in 1993 and 1994. Each time, he surprised the women at their home, tied them up and repeatedly assaulted them. Harper's victims lived near the University of Texas at El Paso, where he attended marketing classes between 1986 and 1994.

Patrick Murphy Jr., 46: He and Donald Newbury surrendered at a Holiday Inn about 20 miles east of where their colleagues were captured two days earlier. He was serving 50 years for aggravated sexual assault with a deadly weapon in Dallas. The Dallas native entered the home of a 23-year-old woman he had known since high school and put a knife to her throat. Murphy then covered the victim's head with a pillowcase, cut off her nightgown and raped her, court records show. Three days before the crime, Murphy pleaded guilty to a burglary charge. His appeal is at the trial court in Dallas.

Donald Newbury, 46: Born in Bernalillo County, N.M., he was serving 99 years for aggravated robbery, robbing a woman at an Austin hotel in 1997 while armed with a sawed-off shotgun. Newbury was a three-time felon whose first armed robbery conviction came in 1981. He was convicted of armed robbery again in 1987, and was suspected in about a dozen other armed robberies in the Austin area in 1986 and 1987. His appeal is at the federal district court in Dallas.

The Associated Press contributed to this report.