McAlester, Oklahoma – Richard Norman Rojem Jr., the longest-serving death row inmate in Oklahoma history, was executed by lethal injection Thursday morning for the 1984 kidnapping, rape, and murder of his 7-year-old former stepdaughter, Layla Dawn Cummings. The execution, carried out at the Oklahoma State Penitentiary, brought a close to a case that spanned nearly four decades, three separate death sentences, and lingering questions about DNA evidence that never matched the condemned man.
Rojem, 66, was pronounced dead at 10:16 a. m. after receiving a lethal dose of midazolam.
His final words, spoken just before the drugs began to flow, were brief and resigned. Asked if he had any last statement, Rojem looked toward witnesses and said, “I don’t. I’ve said my goodbyes.”
He was declared unconscious three minutes after the procedure began at 10:03 a. m.
The execution was Oklahoma’s second of 2024 and marked the end of a legal odyssey that began on July 7, 1984, when a farmer discovered Layla’s mutilated and partially clothed body in a plowed field near Burns Flat, about 15 miles from her home in Elk City. She had been stabbed to death, still wearing her mother’s nightgown. The 7-year-old had been taken from her apartment the night before while her mother worked a late shift at a fast-food restaurant.
Investigators quickly focused on Rojem, who had recently been divorced from Layla’s mother, Mindy Cummings. The case against him was built on a web of circumstantial and physical evidence. A fingerprint on a cup outside Layla’s apartment was traced to a bar Rojem had left just before the abduction.
A condom wrapper found near the body was linked to a used condom discovered in Rojem’s bedroom. Tire tracks near the scene matched his vehicle. Prosecutors argued that Rojem blamed Layla for his return to prison after she disclosed he had sexually abused her, leading to the collapse of his marriage.
Rojem was convicted in 1985 and sentenced to death. But the case took a dramatic turn when DNA testing in the early 2000s revealed an unknown male profile under Layla’s fingernails, a profile that did not match Rojem. That evidence, confirmed by the state’s own analyst, did not sway three separate juries, each of which sentenced him to death.
The first two sentences were overturned on procedural grounds, but the third, handed down in 2007, survived all appeals.
Despite the DNA anomaly, courts consistently upheld Rojem’s conviction. Prosecutors argued the unknown DNA did not exonerate him, pointing to the weight of the other evidence. Assistant Attorney General Jennifer Crabbe told the parole board during a clemency hearing that the state had direct evidence linking Rojem to the crime, including the condom, tire tracks, and witness statements.
Rojem maintained his innocence until the end, telling the board on June 17, “I did not kidnap Layla. I did not rape Layla. And I did not murder Layla.”
The Oklahoma Pardon and Parole Board voted unanimously, 5-0, against clemency, a decision reached in less than a minute. Rojem’s spiritual adviser, Reverend Master Daishin Yalon, a Zen Buddhist monk, was with him in his final days. Rojem had converted to Buddhism during his decades on death row, taking the name Daiji.
His last meal, served Wednesday evening, was a simple one: a small Little Caesars pizza with double cheese and double pepperoni, eight salt packets, eight crushed red pepper packets, a bottle of Vernors ginger ale, two cups of vanilla ice cream, and a large Styrofoam cup.
Oklahoma Attorney General Gentner Drummond issued a statement after the execution, calling Rojem “the monster responsible for her rape and murder.” He said, “Justice for Layla Cummings was finally served this morning. Layla’s family has endured unimaginable suffering for almost 40 years.
My prayer is that today’s action brings a sense of comfort to those who loved her.” Mindy Lynn Cummings, Layla’s mother, released her own statement, read aloud by Drummond. “We remember, honor, and hold her forever in our hearts as the sweet and precious 7-year-old she was,” she said.
“Today marks the final chapter of justice determined by three separate juries for Richard Rojem’s heinous acts nearly 40 years ago when he stole her away like the monster he was.”
Rojem had been on death row for nearly 39 years, longer than any other inmate in Oklahoma history. His incarceration began on July 15, 1985, and he spent the intervening years in a 7-by-12-foot cell, filing appeals that wound through state and federal courts. The first death sentence was overturned in 2000 after a federal district court found that the trial judge had failed to properly instruct the jury on weighing mitigating evidence.
The second was reversed in 2005 by the Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals, which found that the jury selection process was tainted by a juror who had discussed the case with the local sheriff.
The third sentencing trial, held in Custer County in 2007, produced the sentence that ultimately carried through. Rojem’s attorneys continued to argue that the unknown DNA profile under Layla’s fingernails pointed to another perpetrator. At the clemency hearing, his attorney said, “If my client’s DNA is not present, he should not be convicted.”
But the courts never overturned the underlying conviction, and the parole board saw no reason to intervene.
The case has divided observers. Supporters of the execution point to the three unanimous jury verdicts, the physical evidence, and Rojem’s prior conviction for raping two teenage girls in Michigan in 1978. He served four years of a six-to-15-year sentence before being released on parole.
Critics highlight the DNA evidence, which was never explained, and the fact that Rojem maintained his innocence for four decades. The tension between those two narratives hung over the execution, unresolved even as the drugs took effect.
Rojem’s death came without last-minute legal maneuvers. He did not file any stays or appeals in the final days. He had said his goodbyes to friends and family, including Reverend Yalon, who was present in the execution chamber.
Two Buddhists prayed over him as the procedure began. Witnesses in the adjacent room included friends who had stood by him during his years in prison, some of whom were seen crying.
Layla Dawn Cummings was 7 years old when she was taken from her home in the middle of the night. She never turned eight. Her mother described her as “forever seven,” a little girl frozen in time, found in a field at sunrise in her mother’s nightgown.
The case took 40 years to reach its legal conclusion, a span that included trials, appeals, retrials, DNA tests, court orders, and a final five-word goodbye from the man convicted of killing her.
As the execution chamber fell silent, the question that has haunted this case for decades remained unanswered. The unknown male DNA under Layla’s fingernails was never identified. No one ever explained who it belonged to.
The courts, while critical of the process at times, never let that fact undo the conviction. For the family of Layla Cummings, the execution brought a sense of closure. For those who doubted Rojem’s guilt, it left a lingering unease.
Rojem’s final meal, a simple pizza and ice cream, was a stark contrast to the gravity of the moment. He ate it Wednesday evening at 5:48 p. m.
, and then the night passed. At 10:03 a. m.
Thursday, the intravenous line was inserted into his tattooed left arm. At 10:08 a. m.
, he was declared unconscious. At 10:16 a. m.
, the doctor entered the chamber and checked for a pulse. Richard Norman Rojem Jr. was dead.
The execution was carried out without incident, according to the Oklahoma Department of Corrections. Rojem’s body was taken to the state medical examiner’s office. His spiritual adviser remained with him until the end.
The state’s death row now holds 44 inmates, down from 45. Rojem had been the longest-serving among them, a record that ended Thursday morning in a small room in McAlester.
Layla’s mother, Mindy Lynn Cummings, has lived with the loss for 40 years. She spoke at the clemency hearing about a little girl who never got to grow up, who never had a birthday party after that night, who never went back to school. “Everything she might have been was stolen from her one horrific night,” she said.
“And so she remains in our hearts, forever seven.” That image, of a child frozen in time, is the enduring legacy of this case, a reminder of the cost of violence and the long, tangled path of justice.