August 19
TEXAS:
No Mercy----The case of James Allridge raises familiar questions about the
Texas justice system
On August 26, Texas is scheduled to execute James Allridge III for the
1985 murder of 21-year-old Brian Clendennen, who died from 2 gunshots
fired in the course of the botched robbery of a Fort Worth-area
convenience store. At his trial, Tarrant Co. prosecutors argued that
Allridge, then 21, killed Clendennen on Feb. 4, 1985, while on a "crime
spree" with his 23-year-old brother, Ronald. (Ronald, implicated with
James in a string of area robberies, had been sentenced to death in 1986
for the murder of Carla McMillian, killed during the robbery of a
Whataburger a month after Clendennen's death. He was executed in 1995.)
In 1987, after finding James Allridge guilty of Clendennen's murder, his
trial jurors were faced with choosing a punishment: life in prison with a
possibility of parole (after 20 years), or a death sentence. Allridge had
no prior criminal record, but the jurors were not instructed to consider
his past, or his troubled relationship with his brother Ronald (see
"Mitigating Circumstances," p.32). Instead, their determination would be
based solely on their answers to the 2 "special questions" asked of Texas'
capital-case jurors prior to 1990. First, they were asked, was the crime
deliberate? And, 2nd, did they believe "beyond a reasonable doubt" that
"there is a probability" that Allridge would commit additional "acts of
violence" in the future, making him a "continuing threat" to society?
If the jurors had answered "no" to either question, Allridge would have
received a life sentence; but following deliberation, the jurors answered
"yes" to both, and James Allridge was sentenced to die. (In 1993, Allridge
also pled guilty to four counts of aggravated robbery stemming from the
1985 crimes. He received a life sentence.)
After reading the verdict, District Judge Joe Drago III asked Allridge if
there was anything he wanted to say. Allridge turned to face the
Clendennen family and apologized for killing their son. "The only thing on
my mind at the time wasn't what the jury had decided what they were going
to do to me or what my future might hold, none of that," Allridge recently
recalled. "It was that I wanted to say I was sorry to Brian's mom; that's
what I wanted to do."
A Question of Clemency
17 years later, James Allridge and his supporters - including 4 of the
original jurors, his family, attorneys, 2 former death row prison guards,
a retired prison system administrator, a Fort Worth city councilman, one
of Allridge's former employers, and a handful of others - have joined
forces to ask that the state Board of Pardons and Paroles and Gov. Rick
Perry commute Allridge's death sentence to life behind bars.
Allridge's bid for a life sentence is not based on a claim of innocence or
on a lack of due process. Instead, his plea for commutation is based on
his apparent rehabilitation while in prison and his quest for redemption -
two factors that Allridge's supporters, criminal-justice reformers, and
policymakers say should play a key role in Texas' clemency decisions,
especially since the state's capital statute emphasizes, as it did in
Allridge's sentence to death row, the "future dangerousness" of the
accused.
"[W]e ask that you consider whether the interests of the criminal justice
system - including deterrence and rehabilitation - are best served by
executing a rehabilitated person who, while carrying responsibility and
remorse for his actions in his heart, is trying to give something back by
furthering the safety and stability of the prison environment and
struggling to redeem himself," attorneys Jim Marcus and Lisa Fine wrote in
Allridge's petition to the BPP. "Our request for mercy is premised on the
belief that the open-ended ability to commute a death sentence in Texas
... should be exercised in the extraordinary rare instance that a
compelling record demonstrates true rehabilitation."
Allridge's supporters say that in the 17 years he's been in prison he has
become a model inmate - that he accepts responsibility for Clendennen's
murder and strives for redemption, in behavior that he models for other
inmates. He is a calming force on the row, and former guards say he has
made the unit a safer place. He has honed his writing skills, teaches
other inmates to read and write, and has taught himself to paint and draw.
Allridge's art - primarily brightly colored, highly professional
renderings of flowers in full bloom against a deep black background - has
been featured in art shows across the country and in Europe and have
attracted considerable attention - both positive and negative. To his
supporters, Allridge's art is a symbol of his rehabilitation - a tangible
and graphic example of the man he has become. "It's quite natural that
when people get out of a certain environment, they change," said Richard
Deiter, executive director of the Washington, D.C.-based Death Penalty
Information Center."
It is particularly important in Texas that a person show that [change],
because the death penalty statute is focused on 'future dangerousness.'
That is the key. When that [prediction] turns out to be wrong, it seems
like good grounds for clemency."
Although the question of whether a defendant poses a continuing threat to
society - both outside and inside prison - is integral to deciding a death
sentence in Texas, rehabilitation has not played a correspondingly
significant role in deciding clemency. Indeed, since the reinstatement of
the death penalty, Texas has never once granted a commutation based on
rehabilitation or in the interest of redemption.
To the opponents of Allridge's bid for mercy - including the Tarrant Co.
District Attorney's Office and, reportedly, the Clendennen family - his
personal transformation in prison carries little weight, and they consider
his art, and the recognition it has earned him, an unending stream of salt
in the wounds of their loss. "My ... son, Brian, was also an artist and a
writer who got up and preached in church," Doris Clendennen told the
Associated Press. "But he never got to fulfill his dreams."
Allridge and his supporters do not claim that his rehabilitation somehow
erases the tragedy visited upon the Clendennen family. Rather, their
argument is that in order to maintain the integrity of the state's death
penalty system, and to ensure that the ultimate punishment is reserved for
the most egregious crimes and irredeemable offenders, the system must also
demonstrate moderation and mercy. In the case of James Allridge,
supporters argue, the remorse is genuine, the rehabilitation exemplary -
and a formal acknowledgement of his quest for true redemption will only
serve to strengthen the system.
In short, with Allridge set for execution on Aug. 26, there is one
question left to answer: Is there any mercy for the condemned? "If the
death penalty is a deterrent," proposes Allridge's attorney Lisa Fine,
"executing James Allridge will serve as a deterrent to striving for
redemption."
A Merciless Excess
Whatever the current state of his character, the odds of Allridge
receiving a commutation are extremely low. Since 1999, the Board of
Pardons and Paroles has received over 120 requests for clemency in capital
cases. It has denied all but three, each brought to them this year.
Moreover, a nod from the board means nothing unless the governor chooses
to accept the recommendation: Of the three clemency recommendations he's
received, Perry has acted on only one. That one, for killer Robert Smith,
was based on a claim of mental retardation and was essentially mandatory,
given that the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in 2002 that executing the
mentally retarded is unconstitutional.
In 2001, Perry had vetoed state legislation that would have barred the
execution of the mentally retarded. And in May, Perry demonstrated a
seemingly callous indifference to the idea of mercy by rejecting the
board's 5-1 vote to grant clemency to paranoid schizophrenic Kelsey
Patterson - earning worldwide attention and scorn.
The Supreme Court has also opined that some provision of clemency is
necessary to render a capital statute constitutional, and the board has
the power to grant clemency on any grounds. "That's the thing, it's an
open-ended remedy," said Marcus, executive director of the Texas Defender
Service. "There is no restriction on the power of the board. We don't have
to show any particular circumstances. They can grant clemency or a
commutation for any basis. Rehabilitation is a classic reason to commute a
sentence." Despite that wide latitude, clemency in Texas has been more
illusion than reality, raising eyebrows from the federal judiciary. In
December 1998, U.S. District Judge Sam Sparks upheld the state's
procedures but cautioned that the system is "extremely poor and certainly
minimal." "The goal," he said, "is more to protect the secrecy and
autonomy of the system rather than carrying out an efficient, legally
sound system."
Indeed, in the modern era of the death penalty in Texas, rehabilitation
has never formed the basis of a board commutation recommendation - even
though inmates have occasionally sought mercy on those grounds.
Rehabilitation was a central basis of Karla Faye Tucker's 1998 bid for
clemency. Tucker and co-defendant Daniel Ryan Garrett were convicted and
sentenced to die for the gruesome 1983 pickaxe murders of Jerry Dean and
Deborah Thornton. While in prison Tucker underwent a religious conversion
that her supporters - among them Pope John Paul II, conservative preachers
Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell, and Thornton's brother Ronald Carlson -
argued was the cornerstone of her successful rehabilitation. The board
unanimously rejected Tucker's plea.
Even without a board recommendation, the governor is empowered to grant
one 30-day reprieve; but Tucker's rehabilitation and redemption failed to
sway the self-proclaimed born-again and reformed Gov. George W. Bush.
"Many of Tucker's supporters are basing their request for clemency upon
her gender and her religious conversion," Alberto Gonzales, Bush's general
counsel, wrote in a memo to Bush the day before Tucker's execution.
"Neither of these factors have been given weight in previous decisions
made by you in death penalty cases."
Tucker had become a poster child for mercy, and her execution, which
embittered supporters, reformers, and policymakers, transformed her into
an international example of the absence of mercy in Texas' death system.
"It ought to concern all of Texas. It should concern all of the United
States. It should concern the world because there is no mercy in Texas,"
Tucker's attorney David Botsford told The Dallas Morning News. "Clemency
is a farce."
By contrast, evidence of rehabilitation has resulted in clemency
elsewhere. In 1997, Republican Virginia Gov. George Allen - whose state
has the nation's 2nd-most active death chamber - granted a sentence
commutation to convicted murderer William Saunders, because Saunders had
"established a model record on death row." Most recently, in January, the
Georgia parole board granted a commutation to Willie James Hall, based in
part on his record of "excellent behavior" while in prison, reported The
Atlanta Journal-Constitution.
Similar demonstrations of behavior modification have not impressed Texas'
decision-makers. "Texas is one of very few states that requires a finding
of future dangerousness to impose the death penalty," said UT law
professor Jordan Steiker. While it might appear that standard is, in
theory, generous to defendants, Steiker adds that in practice it has
transformed the punishment phase of a capital trial to allow the state to
introduce every "bad thing you've ever done" as a predictor of future
behavior. Those predictions are often wrong - but because of the
"malleable" nature of the question, Steiker says, "You would think that it
would give some political coverage to the executive branch" to grant
clemency based on rehabilitation. "It is ironic because they haven't
acknowledged redemption and rehabilitation," he said. "It would seem that
the [board and governor] would take an interest in not executing when
execution is not necessary. That is almost the textbook definition of
excessiveness."
The Man From Murderabilia
Steiker's argument does not impress longtime Tarrant Co. District Attorney
Tim Curry, whose office prosecuted Ronald Allridge in 1986 and James
Allridge in 1987. In more than 30 years as DA, Curry has never "filed
anything supporting clemency, and we won't be in this case," said Curry
spokesman David Montague. "I don't think anyone's ever presented anything
that we feel justifies it."
Andy Kahan, who has directed the Houston mayor's crime-victim's assistance
office for 12 years, shares Montague's position. In contrast to Allridge's
supporters, who consider his art a reflection of his focused
rehabilitation, Kahan judges Allridge's artistic endeavors as nothing more
than a means to capitalize on his death row status in order to make a
buck. "He is absolutely nothing except that he has murdered somebody in
cold blood," Kahan said.
For a decade Allridge's art has attracted free-world buyers. Allridge has
a Web site that features some of his work, certain of his drawings sell
for over $300, and many are featured on inmate-designed greeting cards
created by the advocacy group Citizens United for the Rehabilitation of
Errants, which sell for $10 a box. According to Allridge's Web site,
profits from the sale of his art are used to pay his legal fees.
This does not matter to Kahan, who for five years has gained notoriety for
his quest to keep condemned inmates from "profiting" from their crimes.
Kahan was instrumental in the 2001 passage of Texas' so-called
"murderabilia" law - a term Kahan says he coined and that, God willing,
with a little help from his friends (whom he prods to use the term more
often in casual conversation), he hopes will some day become a dictionary
entry. The law is designed to prohibit convicted criminals from profiting
from the sale of items marketed based on their inmate status, and it
allows the state to confiscate any profits to use for victim compensation.
The law has never been tested. Kahan said he has been tracking Allridge's
enterprise for years but only recently decided that his should serve as a
test case. "I've always been of the opinion that it is nice to pass laws,
but not if you can't or don't enforce them," he said. Kahan has filed a
formal complaint with the Polk Co. DA's office (home to the Texas
Department of Criminal Justice's Livingston Unit, which houses death row
inmates), and with TDCJ, asking them to shut down Allridge's Web site.
(TDCJ's Office of Inspector General is investigating Kahan's complaint,
and the Polk DA has appointed a special prosecutor to look into the
matter.) What prompted Kahan's current indignation? "2 words," he said.
"Susan Sarandon."
Sarandon has been corresponding with Allridge for nearly eight years, and
on July 14 made a trip to Livingston to visit him and say goodbye. Why has
Kahan waited to act until now? "The public wasn't familiar with James
Allridge; he was not a household name," Kahan said, until Sarandon came to
town. Kahan had been "looking for a reason" to pursue a legal case against
Allridge, which Sarandon gave him. "Because of her visit, that gave him
publicity that he didn't have before," he said. "That has bumped him up to
a celebrity status ... and that is why I requested an investigation." In
sum, Kahan insists, the only reason anyone is interested in Allridge's art
is because of his "status on death row." "The [Clendennen] family is
obviously outraged that he is using his death row status," he said. "From
the [viewpoint] of the victims' families, let me tell you, there is
nothing more nauseating."
Kahan is not persuaded by the claim that Allridge's art is part of his
effort at rehabilitation - or by the idea that Allridge could use his art
to compensate the Clendennens if his sentence were commuted. "More power
to James Allridge for turning his life around," Kahan said. "[But] you're
not put on death row to rehabilitate."
Justice Tempered
Other victim advocates reject Kahan's position and consider rehabilitation
and mercy extremely important. "They should be rehabilitated - it's all
the hope we have," says Linda White, spokeswoman for the Texas branch of
the advocacy group Murder Victims' Families for Reconciliation. White's
daughter was raped and murdered in 1986 by two 15-year-old boys. Although
certified to stand trial as adults, and therefore eligible for a death
sentence, the 2 pled guilty to the crime and are currently serving 54- and
55-year prison sentences. At the time, White said, people would make
comments to her about how "it was a shame we couldn't fry them." But White
never agreed, she says, and she does not believe that a jury's prediction
of "future dangerousness" should forever nullify a chance for mercy. "If
you see that a person has made significant gains, what sense does it make
to continue the process without commutations or clemency?" She points to
Tucker's case as an example. "[T]here was no good reason to execute tha t
woman, no good reason," she said. "And she could've been put into the
general [prison] population and could've been a wonderful help to other
people, helped to turn other people around."
MVFR member Jeanette Popp agrees. Her daughter was the victim of Austin's
notorious 1986 Pizza Hut murder, for which 2 innocent men, Christopher
Ochoa and Richard Danziger, served more than a decade in prison before
being exonerated. The two were freed after the actual killer, Achim Josef
Marino, confessed to the crime; Popp implored Travis Co. prosecutors not
to seek the death penalty for Marino.
"There is no such thing in Texas as rehabilitation, or clemency due to
rehabilitation. They have no idea how to temper justice with mercy," she
said. But Allridge, like Tucker before him, is a remarkable example of an
inmate who has rehabilitated himself "in spite of the system," she said.
"The case of Karla Faye Tucker breaks my heart every time I think about
it. And James Allridge is probably going to be another waste - another
horrible waste."
Popp agrees that convicted killers should not be allowed to profit from
their crimes but doesn't see any sense in trying to extract compensation
from a death row inmate. "Think about it - if we gave [Allridge] clemency
he could continue his artwork and compensate his victim's family," she
said. "Let him do what he can to make up for what he did. Execution is an
easy way out, and no one gets anything out of it. The family isn't going
to have their rage reduced. ... It isn't going to go with [Allridge], that
is for sure."
The Quality of Mercy
Time is running out for James Allridge. His supporters know that,
realistically, there is only a slim chance that he'll be granted a
commutation - but that has not erased their hope, or Allridge's. "I do
have hope despite my situation," Allridge said in an interview posted on
his Web site. "I think that you should never take away someone's hope
because it destroys the soul and can create a monster that no one is going
to want to deal with. I think that everyone, no matter what they have
done, should be given the opportunity to become rehabilitated."
Interestingly, it appears that Charles Aycock, a member of the 6-member
Board of Pardons and Paroles, might share that opinion. In May, Aycock, a
longtime county attorney in the Panhandle and former president of the
State Bar Association, was the only board member to vote in favor of
granting a commutation to David Ray Harris - whose false testimony in the
late Seventies landed Randall Dale Adams on death row for the murder of a
Dallas police officer. (Errol Morris told Adams' story in his 1988
documentary The Thin Blue Line; Adams was released from prison in 1989.)
In June, Harris was facing execution for a different murder, committed in
1985 during a bungled burglary attempt. In his commutation petition,
Harris recounted his difficult childhood and the events leading up to the
murder. As reported by Rick Casey in the Houston Chronicle, Harris
recounted his religious conversion and explained that while in jail he'd
earned an associate's degree in theology from Calvary Bible Institute.
Harris was asking the board for a commutation based on rehabilitation.
Aycock declined to comment on his vote in favor of Harris' bid, but Casey
reported that Harris' petition included a quote from Aycock that had
appeared in a previous Chronicle story. "I respectfully submit that
clemency decisions are not about whether the person facing death has had
his case reviewed by one court or ten courts," Harris wrote. "Clemency is
not about a rigid legal standard - or even a legal standard capable of
articulation. Rather, it is about mercy."
***************
Last Rites
The Board of Pardons and Paroles will accept additional materials -
including letters of support or opposition, faxed to 467-8945 - for
consideration of the clemency petition filed on behalf of James Allridge
III, through Monday, Aug. 23. Allridge is scheduled for execution on Aug.
26. Inmates seeking clemency are given no written guidelines on the
process and have no opportunity for a live hearing before the board. In
fact, the board does not meet; members review the case documentation
individually and vote by fax in time to make a recommendation to Gov. Rick
Perry, who appointed them. If the board recommends clemency, the governor
can accept or reject that recommendation. If the board rejects clemency,
the governor cannot legally overrule the decision but has the power to
grant one 30-day reprieve. Since 1999, the Board of Pardons and Paroles
has received more than 120 requests for clemency. It has recommended
clemency in only 3, all of them this year. Gov. Perry has granted clemency
just once.
*******************
Mitigating Circumstances
Under Texas law in capital cases prior to 1990, jurors considering a
convicted defendant's sentence were asked whether the crime was deliberate
and whether the defendant would pose a future threat to society - a
subjective question that critics say tips the scales of justice in favor
of the state. In June 1989, ruling in a case brought by mentally retarded
death row inmate John Paul Penry, the U.S. Supreme Court agreed. The court
ruled that in capital cases the courts must instruct jurors on how to
weigh so-called "mitigating factors," such as childhood abuse or, in
Penry's case, a history of mental retardation.
Had James Allridge's jurors been instructed to consider whether there were
any mitigating circumstances in the murder of Brian Clendennen, they
would've been able to take into account that Allridge had no prior
criminal record - and everything else that led up to that fatal night.
According to friends and family, Allridge lived a quiet life until shortly
before Clendennen's murder, when his older brother Ronald returned to Fort
Worth after serving most of a 10-year prison sentence for killing a
classmate in 1975.
James idolized Ronald, his family and friends recall, and always had.
Growing up, Ronald was Allridge's best - and nearly only - friend, they
say, primarily because the Allridge family were devout Jehovah's
Witnesses, a faith that forbids its followers to associate with anyone who
does not adhere to their religion.
Unfortunately, Ronald was not a good role model: He was aggressive,
unpredictable, and often violent - when James was 5, Ronald set his
brother's clothes on fire while burning trash in a back-yard incinerator.
James suffered third-degree burns that took a year to heal. "If Ronnie
said to do something then James did it," recalled younger brother Darren.
"James was always the tagalong. Ronnie was the one who came up with the
ideas, and plotted out whatever little mischief they were getting into."
In the mid-Seventies, Ronald came up with a plan to burglarize a
Montgomery Ward, and tried to talk James into coming along. James didn't
go, but Ronald did it anyway and when he got home he showed James his
loot, including a .357 Magnum. Pointing the gun at James, Ronald
threatened to kill his brother if he ever told anyone about the burglary.
Several weeks later, Ronald brandished that gun at school and killed a
classmate. He was certified to stand trial as an adult, diagnosed with
mental illness and sociopathic tendencies by a state doctor, and sentenced
to 10 years in prison.
Burdened with guilt for not preventing the shooting, James was anxious for
Ronald's homecoming, and was desperate to rebuild their relationship. "The
false joy and hope that James had in seeing his brother released from jail
was more than he could understand," said Steve Barker, Allridge's friend
and former employer. James "wasn't acknowledging who his brother really
was, and that allowed him to be caught up in the series of events that
resulted in his committing a serious crime." Shortly after Ronald was
released, the robberies began. Then James lost his job at Barker's
woodworking shop and began drinking. Just over one year later, Clendennen
was murdered.
Jurors at James Allridge's trial had no duty to consider his past when
deciding whether he should be sentenced to life or death. In a sworn
affidavit filed with Allridge's petition for a commutation, juror Gloria
Lizak said that the panel did not consider Allridge's troubled
relationship when deliberating the question of whether he posed a future
threat to society. "[A]ll we did was answer the 2d3 questions," she said,
"so there was no way for us to take this into account."
**********************
A Letter from James Allridge
James V. Allridge III #000870
Allan B. Polunsky Unit
3872 FM 350 South
Livingston, Texas 77351
August 11, 2004
Jordan Smith
Investigative Reporter
Austin Chronicle
Austin, Texas 77002
Dear Jordan:
I spoke with Jim Marcus, Monday and he informed me that you would be
writing an article about my bid for clemency. I wanted to provide for you,
in my own words, some additional information that you may find useful in
the formulation of your piece.
First and foremost, let me say that I have never tried to escape
punishment and have always, always felt deep sorrow for my actions. The
only words I uttered during my entire trial were to the victim's mother
when I said I was sorry. I have spent the last 17 years of my
incarceration to make sure 2 lives were not wasted out of this tragedy.
That is one reason we are focusing on the rehabilitative aspects of my
case. Not everyone has an actual claim of innocence, DNA evidence to
offer, mental retardation issues to consider or were a juvenile at the
time of the crime. Unquestionably, some people here are actually guilty of
the crime they were convicted of.
However, our criminal justice system, just as our government, is set up
with a system of checks and balances. Death row prisoners go through a
lengthy appeals process because our system of jurisprudence recognizes
that men are fallible. It recognizes that sometimes the rule of law can
and will be misinterpreted. We want the Parole Board members to be
receptive to a message about positive change.
For too long, the Board has used the clemency process as a stopgap for the
legal system. The Parole Board and Governor have only wanted to grant
clemency if the person didn't have full access to the court system or if
there are actual claims of innocence. I would submit that that's not what
the clemency process was designed for.
The clemency process was designed because our legislature recognized that
in some instances, our government would have to make exceptions for those
who were punished too severely at the trial level. The legislators also
had the foresight to anticipate that some, such as myself, would
experience mature growth in spite of my surroundings. Rather than being
influenced by hardened criminals in any way, I have actually influenced
some in a positive manner.
I believe that clemency is about mercy when all legal avenues have been
exhausted. Our campaign is about redemption, rehabilitation,
reconciliation and forgiveness. We hope to restore faith and humanity to
our Texas clemency process.
There are only two sentencing options in a capital case - life or death.
Clemency isn't about escaping punishment but about reducing punishment and
removing the threat of immediate death. A life sentence would continue
punishment.
Another fallacy with the clemency process is there is no criteria or
standard to meet in order to receive clemency. In the legal process, there
are standards or bars that must be met before one can obtain relief on a
legal issue. It should be the same for clemency. If we are to have a death
penalty, and we do, then each and every aspect of the system should be
operable. If we are to have a clemency process, and we do, it should be
attainable.
What I am suggesting is this. If everything that I have achieved during
the past 17 years (I invite you to visit my website at
www.fund-for-life.org), through my self-rehabilitative process doesn't
meet the standard or criteria for clemency, then how likely is it that
others who now have less time because of the shortened appeal process will
ever be able to meet this invisible bar?
Clemency is about mercy. I am not demanding anything. I am asking that I
be given the opportunity to continue contributing to society, even if it
means from a prison cell.
I hope you find this additional information useful. Thank you for your
time and consideration to this matter.
Sincerely,
James V. Allridge III
(source for all: Austin Chronicle)
*************************
City looks to Ohio fix for crime lab woes---Hurtt asks chief in Cleveland
how that city handled its own scandal
Houston Police Chief Harold Hurtt said Wednesday that he has spoken with
his counterpart in Cleveland, Ohio, about the possibility of reviewing
hundreds - perhaps thousands - of old criminal cases from Houston dating
more than a decade.
Hurtt said he is trying to learn more about how the Ohio city has handled
its recent crime lab scandal by appointing an independent judicial
official, known as a "special master," to oversee the re-examination of
cases with convictions that may have been tainted by bad science.
WHAT THEY'RE DOING
The city of Cleveland agreed to a crime-lab audit that calls for:
- Special master : Appointment of a former assistant U.S. attorney to
serve as special master.
- Retesting: For cases dating to 1987 involving testimony from Cleveland
police crime lab technician Joseph Serowik, who was found to have given
false testimony in a 1988 rape trial; for all cases involving Serowik's
work that ended in a guilty plea.
- Results: To be made public.
- Top prio rity: Given to prisoners on death row or who remain
incarcerated.
[source: Harris County court documents]
"We are looking at that model" in Cleveland, Hurtt said. "We may not go to
that level, but we will get people with the expertise ... to audit those
cases. We want to make sure justice is done."
Cleveland's agreement to review old cases, which was completed in June,
has been cited frequently by Houston officials in recent weeks since a
panel of six experts accused a former Houston police crime lab supervisor
of giving flawed testimony that contradicted basic elements of forensic
science.
The experts' opinion was included in the Aug. 5 appeal of George
Rodriguez, a man who was sentenced to 60 years in prison for the rape of a
teenage girl in 1987.
New DNA tests indicate he is innocent and that another suspect from the
original investigation committed the rape.
Rodriguez's case suggests that problems at the embattled crime lab are
more widespread than previously believed, extending beyond the DNA
division, which was shut down last year, into the serology section, which
tests blood and hair for evidence in criminal cases.
Because of problems in the serology section of the Cleveland crime lab,
officials there have reopened more than 100 criminal cases after court
officials agreed that a forensics lab worker gave false testimony at a
rape trial in 1988.
The city of Cleveland vowed to undertake the review - expected to take
more than a year - as part of a $1.6 million civil-court settlement with a
man who was wrongfully convicted of rape and spent 13 years in prison.
The man, Anthony Michael Green, 38, was released from prison in October
2001 after proving that a technician at the Cleveland crime lab falsely
testified about DNA evidence in 1988.
After his release, Green filed a multimillion-dollar lawsuit claiming his
constitutional rights were violated by misconduct at the crime lab.
He agreed to settle his lawsuit only after the city promised to
investigate all cases involving test results or testimony from the lab
technician.
"He felt very strongly that the injustices that he suffered were systemic
and had been imposed on other people in addition to himself," said
Alphonse Gerhardstein, a Cincinnati-based lawyer who represented Green in
the lawsuit.
Cleveland agrees to probe
Green's pretrial investigation revealed further problems in the Cleveland
crime lab, fueling city officials' fears of a jury verdict exceeding $10
million.
Partly as a cost-saving measure, Cleveland officials agreed to a sweeping
investigation of past cases.
"We got something significant in return from Mr. Green for doing the right
thing. We were fortunate," said Cleveland Law Director Subodh Chandra,
noting that the $1.6 million settlement, plus costs related to the
investigation, was a good deal for taxpayers.
"We also viewed this primarily as a public safety issue. When an innocent
person is convicted, then, by definition, the guilty party is going free,"
Chandra said.
The Cleveland agreement, completed June 8, calls for the appointment of a
special master to oversee the retesting of all serology and hair testing
conducted by the lab technician in question.
Audit won't promise justice
It may be too early to know whether the audit will be carried out as
thoroughly as the agreement suggests, said Terry Gilbert, a
Cleveland-based defense attorney.
Gilbert, who said he represents a man who is in prison for rape and
expects his case to be reopened as a part of the audit, said Cleveland
authorities have been careless in preserving and storing evidence in some
cases, making it difficult to find samples for retesting in all cases.
"I would be very cautiously optimistic that things are going to change,"
he said.
"Just because there's an agreement to review these cases doesn't mean we
should just assume that it is going to be done properly."
Scope of local problems?
The Rodriguez case has drawn national attention, in part because it raises
questions about the justice system in Harris County, which sends more
prisoners to death row than any other county in the United States.
District Attorney Chuck Rosenthal said he would support any decision the
police chief makes regarding the department's lab, but Harris County's top
prosecutor suggested it is premature to believe the Rodriguez case reveals
further problems at the lab.
"I don't know that it is all together appropriate in this case because,
number one, I don't believe that we will find that anyone lied. And number
two, I don't believe that we are going to find that the proper analytical
procedures that were available at the time of the tests were not
followed," Rosenthal said.
"It appears that things may have been OK," Rosenthal said, referring to
the Rodriguez case.
(source: Houston Chronicle)
********************
Van Zandt Murder Trial Postponed
In Canton, a Van Zandt County capital murder trial has been postponed
because the attorneys were unable to seat a jury.
Mark Ashley White, 23, of Wills Point, is charged with the 2001 death of
Scott Allen McClelland but he will have to wait until Sept. 13 to stand
trial.
Van Zandt County District Attorney Leslie Poynter Dixon said only 24
possible jurors said they could go through with the full range of
punishment.
"We need at least 32 people to select a jury of 12 and in this case we
would need to pick at least 1 alternate as well," she said.
District Court Judge Teresa Drum rescheduled the trial but Mrs. Dixon said
there might be a problem with Sept. 13. The state's expert witnesses and
medical examiners might have a time conflict.
White is one of four people charged with involvement in a July 2001
murder-for-hire shooting that left McClelland dead and another injured.
McClelland, 19, of Ben Wheeler, was found shot to death in a field along
County Road 4503 in eastern Van Zandt County around 1:30 a.m. on July 14,
2001.
John Mark Brown, who was 20 at the time, was shot in the leg during the
same incident, but made his way to a nearby farmhouse, where he called
911.
4 suspects were arrested a few hours after the shooting.
In January, Brian Jason Cole, of Myrtle Springs, was sentenced to 12 years
in prison for manslaughter and eight years for aggravated assault.
In November 2003, Patrick Ryan Greenway, of Canton, pleaded guilty to
capital murder and attempted capital murder, and was sentenced to 40 years
in prison.
The 4th man, who was found with the suspects shortly after the shooting,
was arrested for criminal conspiracy to commit capital murder but the
charge was dropped after further investigation.
The man who allegedly paid to have McClelland killed, Keegan Arledge
Gibson, was picked up several days after the shooting, and was also
charged with capital murder.
(source: Tyler Morning Telegraph)
