Wrongful Convictions
The Action Committee For Women In Prison
769 Northwestern Drive
Claremont, CA 91711
769 Northwestern Drive
Claremont, CA 91711
Supreme Court ruling decreases
chances that prosecutors will be
held accountable
Published: Sunday, January 08, 2012, 8:00 AM
By Jarvis DeBerry
Former death row inmate John Thompson was deprived of a $14 million judgment last yearwhen a divided U.S. Supreme Court ruled that he had failed to prove that his wrongful conviction was caused by then District Attorney Harry Connick's failure to train his prosecutors. That's a lot of money to have ripped away, but according to an essay in the Yale Law Journal Online, what Thompson lost personally isn't as significant as what all Americans lost collectively.
At the offices of the Innocence Project New Orleans in March, former death row inmate John Thompson, who spent 18 years in prison after he was wrongfully convicted of murder when prosecutors withheld evidence, reacts to the U.S. Supreme Court ruling in favor of Orleans Parish District Attorney Leon Cannizzaro, who contended that his office should not have to pay a $14 million judgment.
And what did we lose? Essentially, the ability to hold our prosecutors accountable if their lust for convictions gets ahead of their obligation to see justice prevail. Technically, it's still possible to make a case against prosecutors, but the odds are so stacked against success that the authors David Keenan, Deborah Jane Cooper, David Lebowitz and Tamar Lerer go so far as to call prosecutorial accountability a myth.
A person who's found not guilty can't use that verdict as a basis to sue the district attorney. For obvious reasons, prosecutors have been granted immunity from such suits. Not every unsuccessful prosecution is a malicious prosecution, and you can't have a lawsuit following every acquittal.
Prosecutors are almost never charged criminally if they misbehave and wrongly send a defendant to prison. The 1999 trial of the Dupage Seven, Illinois police officers and prosecutors accused of conspiring to send an innocent man to his death, appears to be, according to the essay, "the first time in American history that a felony prosecution of former prosecutors for misconduct reached the verdict stage." All were found not guilty.
Thompson seemed to have a good case and a good strategy. Connick didn't offer training to his subordinates regarding their obligation to turn over exculpatory evidence. During testimony, Connick himself misstated the requirements, and he also confessed that he stopped reading legal opinions after he was elected. Thus, Thompson argued that his wrongful conviction stemmed from Connick's failure to train his staff, and the exonerated man chose to pursue municipal liability, that is, make the entire office pay. That avenue's still available, but if the facts Thompson presented didn't convince a majority of the court that there was a failure to train, what set of facts ever will?
So, personal lawsuits are out, the criminal pursuit of rogue prosecutors is a once-in-a-lifetime event and now it's near impossible to make an office responsible for the sins of its officers. Where, then, is prosecutorial punishment going to come from? Why, it ought to come from the professional legal associations, the Supreme Court says. They have the power to start proceedings that can strip a lawyer of his or her ability to practice the law. So, you see? Simple.
In ruling against Thompson, the Yale authors say, "the Supreme Court put its full faith in the efficacy of professional standards and disciplinary procedures" even though "bar discipline procedures have not proved a fruitful sanction for deterring prosecutorial misconduct."
Only one prosecutor associated with Thompson's railroading was punished, if you can call it that. Michael Riehlmann, who waited five years to report that prosecutor Gerry Deegan had confessed to suppressing blood evidence that would exonerate Thompson, was recommended for suspension by the Louisiana Attorney Discipline Board. The state Supreme Court, though, downplayed Riehlmann's offense as "merely negligent" and gave him a mere public reprimand.
Illinois is reportedly the only state that publishes the number of complaints against prosecutors it receives and investigates. In 2010, that state received 99 complaints of prosecutorial conduct but only one case got as far as a formal hearing. "In other words," the authors note, "the Illinois disciplinary commission held as many formal hearings involving charges of prosecutorial misconduct as it did charges of 'bad faith avoidance of a student loan.' "
Thompson, according to an interview he recently gave to The Lens, is planning a tour with Barry Scheck, the New York leader of the Innocence Project. "We're focusing on 12 states," he said, "creating a panel in each one of them to look at prosecutorial abuse and wrongful imprisonment, suppressed evidence ... We're asking the attorneys general to step in, in every state, to try to show the need for accountability, to try to show why this particular area is so crucial."
It's way bigger than what Harry Connick's office did to Thompson. It's about what might happen to any one of us now that prosecutors are even further shielded from meaningful accountability.
Jarvis DeBerry can be reached at jdeberry@timespicayune.com or 504.826.3355. Follow him athttp://connect.nola.com.user/user/jdeberry/indext.html and attwitter.com/jarvisdeberrytp.
http://www.nola.com/opinions/index.ssf/2012/01/supreme_court_ruling_decreases.htmla
Freedom Is Sweet, But New
Problems Set In
BY MANDY LOCKE - STAFF WRITER
September 4, 2011
MEBANE -- Ronald Cotton gently lifts his right arm with his left and rests it in his lap, scowling as he remembers the limb is useless to him.
His right leg is no good now. Cotton's face droops as he talks, yet he tells one story after another, every 10th word or so incomprehensible. They are the burdens left by a stroke in July.
"I was living a pretty good life. Nothing amazing. Then bam," said Cotton, 49. "I never saw it coming."
It has been 16 years since Cotton walked out of prison, free and clear of a rape charge that, at age 23, had doomed him to a prison cell for the rest of his days.
Cotton was among the first of a cluster of men in North Carolina exonerated by DNA evidence long after they were sent to prison based on victim's statements, coerced confessions and jailhouse snitches. As the state began to find more and more wrongful convictions, lawmakers and judicial advocates have tried with limited success to make things right, creating networks and compensation to help ease these men back into society.
But those networks of help have been flimsy, and for the earliest of those exonerated, such as Cotton, they didn't exist.
Cotton and some others are now floundering. A few have found their way, landing secure jobs and housing, and maintaining the good health needed to enjoy it. Some ended up back in prison. Others are too traumatized to hold a job. Health issues have crept up on many.
"They want us to be independent and learn how to do all this stuff and think everything should be OK," said Darryl Hunt, who was exonerated in 2003 and has worked with others who are adjusting to life after prison. "They put you out with no help as to how to adjust."
Cotton was exonerated before the state had much, if any, help for innocent men who had been locked up. After much lobbying from his advocates, legislators agreed to pay him $110,000 for his 11 years behind bars.
For years, Cotton did better than most expected. He met a nice lady, married her and had a little girl. He got a job in the warehouse of LabCorp, the company that tested the DNA evidence that proved his innocence.
He paid cash for a piece of land in Mebane and signed a lease for a modular home to anchor there. He made peace with Jennifer Thompson, the woman who mistakenly identified him as her attacker; the two since have forged an inexplicable bond.
But Cotton's life, like that of so many of the 273 people exonerated by DNA nationwide, has been spiraling downward in the last few years.
His stroke last month came after months of taking his blood pressure medicine haphazardly. Without insurance, he couldn't afford the medicine and took it only when he had some.
Cotton is partially paralyzed.
The medical bills pile up, and he can't figure how to pay them.
"They can't get blood from a stone," Cotton said. "They'll get it when I get it."
An unusual bond
For a while, Cotton's prospects looked good.
He enjoyed local celebrity, in part because of the extraordinary friendship he forged with Thompson.
The two have traveled the country together, speaking about how commonly errors occur with cross-racial identification. A reporter wrote a book, and a producer made a movie about their experience, "Picking Cotton."
Over the years, Cotton and Thompson have propped each other up. They've celebrated births, mourned deaths and cried over strained marriages.
The two remain tight, and Thompson is devastated that Cotton is struggling. Her sanity depends largely on Cotton's well-being.
"When he falters, it undermines a lot for me," said Thompson, 49. "I failed him once, and the state keeps failing him."
The state legislature has increased the annual compensation for those exonerated to $50,000 for each year they were wrongly jailed, but little has been provided in terms of health care, housing assistance or mental health services. That higher rate was not retroactive to Cotton.
Rep. Paul Stam of Apex, a Republican who heads one of the House judiciary committees, said the compensation should be enough to get these men on their feet and provide a decent life.
"This is not a welfare issue," said Stam, who noted that they could apply for public benefits such as Medicaid or disability like anyone else. "The last thing we need to do is to set up a new program just for people who've been exonerated."
Fleeting fame
Last week, at a restaurant in Elon, Cotton and Thompson giggled over sodas. They ribbed each other like siblings. Thompson scolded Cotton for not getting a "handicapped" sticker for his car. She asked whether he ought to be driving. He teased her about her tan and insisted on showing her the latest scar on his leg.
Cotton has spoken to audiences as large as 3,000, describing his journey for people who otherwise wouldn't give him a second look. He gets approached at bars by women who've seen the movie about him and want to get to know him.
"They smell money," he said, "but the truth is, I got none."
These days, Cotton feels no fame. Some days, he said he feels little at all.
Cotton tries to downplay his frustration. He jokes about falling off his bicycle. He insists he is committed to rehabilitation, even though he can't afford to see a physical therapist.
"This ain't gonna beat me," he said.
Hoping for work
In some ways, the challenges that those exonerated of crimes face are no different from those many Americans encounter: lack of health care, unemployment, rocky relationships. What's different, advocates say, is the tools they have to manage those difficulties.
"They languish," Thompson said. "They can't fully get it together."
Many say they are plagued by flashbacks and panic attacks. They struggle with relationships. Some experience difficulties accepting direction from bosses after years of being ordered around by prison guards.
Cotton quit his job in February 2010 in a burst of frustration. He'd been missing work to take speaking gigs. The boss confronted him, and he responded in anger. It would be weeks before he told anyone he lost his job. With the sour economy, work for an uneducated laborer had dwindled.
When Cotton was exonerated in 1995, state officials offered him $5,500 and told him he needed to repay $5,000 for court-appointed lawyers.
Thompson personally lobbied at the legislature for Cotton to get more compensation from the state.
Cotton long ago spent his $110,000 payout. He invested some of the money he got from the book project in stocks, but he said he had to cash that money out in recent years while he was out of work.
Before his conviction, Cotton worked as a cook and did other odd jobs. Now, he makes a mental list of all the jobs he could do: raking leaves, detailing cars, fixing bikes.
He rubs his hand and prays for the feeling to return.
mandy.locke@newsobserver.com or 919-829-8927
Read more: Read more: http://www.newsobserver.com/2011/09/04/1459709/freedom-is-sweet-but-new-problems.html#ixzz1WyPBR7vI
****
EDITORIAL
Unreliable witnesses
A new California law will make it impossible for innocent people to go to prison based on unsupported testimony from jailhouse snitches.
August 11, 2011
Starting next year, California prosecutors can no longer win convictions in cases that rely solely on the uncorroborated testimony of jailhouse informants. That requirement — imposed by a bill, SB 687, that Gov. Jerry Brown signed into law this month — isn't groundbreaking, considering that more than a dozen other states already have similar laws. But it's an important step forward for California.
A series of articles in The Times and a 1990 grand jury report revealed that jailhouse informants were routinely granted favors or given money by prosecutors for what turned out to be false testimony. Dozens of innocent people were sent to prison in the 1980s based on unsupported testimony from snitches. Some convictions were later overturned, but not before many of those wrongly imprisoned spent years behind bars.
The California Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice recommended in 2008 that uncorroborated testimony by jailhouse informants be barred, and some district attorneys moved quickly to set their own restrictions. Other prosecutors, concerned that such rules would make it harder to win convictions, argued that they weren't necessary — judges were already required to instruct jurors to consider inmates' testimony cautiously. Responding to that faction's concerns, then-Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger twice vetoed bills to make reforms.
The reality is that SB 687 won't bar prosecutors from using informants, nor will it strip courts of judicial discretion. The Legislature already has authority to limit the kinds of evidence that can be used in court; for example, it has made polygraph tests inadmissible. This measure is no different.
The new law will, however, require district attorneys to present additional evidence to support jailhouse informant testimony. As Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Steve Cooley has repeatedly said, prosecutors should be wary of any testimony that can't be corroborated.
The restriction on jailhouse informant testimony is a good start, but more ought to be done to fix systemic problems that have resulted in miscarriages of justice. We already have a road map. The commission's 2008 report provided common-sense recommendations, such as requiring police to record interrogations of suspects in cases of serious felonies. Assemblyman Tom Ammiano (D-San Francisco) has introduced a bill to carry out another of the report's suggestions: establishing a group of experts to help improve the reliability of eyewitness identifications.
Some may argue that the state's financial troubles leave it barely able to fund schools, let alone finance programs to protect those who stand accused of crimes. But failing to prevent innocent people from going to jail is too expensive a proposition.
http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/opinion/la-ed-informants-20110811,0,4337038.story?track=rss&utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+latimes%2Fnews%2Fprintedition%2Fopinion+%28Los+Angeles+Times+-+Editorials%2C+Op-Ed%29
****
States look to right
wrong convictions
Supreme Court ruling decreases
chances that prosecutors will be
held accountable
Published: Sunday, January 08, 2012, 8:00 AM
By Jarvis DeBerry
Former death row inmate John Thompson was deprived of a $14 million judgment last yearwhen a divided U.S. Supreme Court ruled that he had failed to prove that his wrongful conviction was caused by then District Attorney Harry Connick's failure to train his prosecutors. That's a lot of money to have ripped away, but according to an essay in the Yale Law Journal Online, what Thompson lost personally isn't as significant as what all Americans lost collectively.
At the offices of the Innocence Project New Orleans in March, former death row inmate John Thompson, who spent 18 years in prison after he was wrongfully convicted of murder when prosecutors withheld evidence, reacts to the U.S. Supreme Court ruling in favor of Orleans Parish District Attorney Leon Cannizzaro, who contended that his office should not have to pay a $14 million judgment.
And what did we lose? Essentially, the ability to hold our prosecutors accountable if their lust for convictions gets ahead of their obligation to see justice prevail. Technically, it's still possible to make a case against prosecutors, but the odds are so stacked against success that the authors David Keenan, Deborah Jane Cooper, David Lebowitz and Tamar Lerer go so far as to call prosecutorial accountability a myth.
A person who's found not guilty can't use that verdict as a basis to sue the district attorney. For obvious reasons, prosecutors have been granted immunity from such suits. Not every unsuccessful prosecution is a malicious prosecution, and you can't have a lawsuit following every acquittal.
Prosecutors are almost never charged criminally if they misbehave and wrongly send a defendant to prison. The 1999 trial of the Dupage Seven, Illinois police officers and prosecutors accused of conspiring to send an innocent man to his death, appears to be, according to the essay, "the first time in American history that a felony prosecution of former prosecutors for misconduct reached the verdict stage." All were found not guilty.
Thompson seemed to have a good case and a good strategy. Connick didn't offer training to his subordinates regarding their obligation to turn over exculpatory evidence. During testimony, Connick himself misstated the requirements, and he also confessed that he stopped reading legal opinions after he was elected. Thus, Thompson argued that his wrongful conviction stemmed from Connick's failure to train his staff, and the exonerated man chose to pursue municipal liability, that is, make the entire office pay. That avenue's still available, but if the facts Thompson presented didn't convince a majority of the court that there was a failure to train, what set of facts ever will?
So, personal lawsuits are out, the criminal pursuit of rogue prosecutors is a once-in-a-lifetime event and now it's near impossible to make an office responsible for the sins of its officers. Where, then, is prosecutorial punishment going to come from? Why, it ought to come from the professional legal associations, the Supreme Court says. They have the power to start proceedings that can strip a lawyer of his or her ability to practice the law. So, you see? Simple.
In ruling against Thompson, the Yale authors say, "the Supreme Court put its full faith in the efficacy of professional standards and disciplinary procedures" even though "bar discipline procedures have not proved a fruitful sanction for deterring prosecutorial misconduct."
Only one prosecutor associated with Thompson's railroading was punished, if you can call it that. Michael Riehlmann, who waited five years to report that prosecutor Gerry Deegan had confessed to suppressing blood evidence that would exonerate Thompson, was recommended for suspension by the Louisiana Attorney Discipline Board. The state Supreme Court, though, downplayed Riehlmann's offense as "merely negligent" and gave him a mere public reprimand.
Illinois is reportedly the only state that publishes the number of complaints against prosecutors it receives and investigates. In 2010, that state received 99 complaints of prosecutorial conduct but only one case got as far as a formal hearing. "In other words," the authors note, "the Illinois disciplinary commission held as many formal hearings involving charges of prosecutorial misconduct as it did charges of 'bad faith avoidance of a student loan.' "
Thompson, according to an interview he recently gave to The Lens, is planning a tour with Barry Scheck, the New York leader of the Innocence Project. "We're focusing on 12 states," he said, "creating a panel in each one of them to look at prosecutorial abuse and wrongful imprisonment, suppressed evidence ... We're asking the attorneys general to step in, in every state, to try to show the need for accountability, to try to show why this particular area is so crucial."
It's way bigger than what Harry Connick's office did to Thompson. It's about what might happen to any one of us now that prosecutors are even further shielded from meaningful accountability.
Jarvis DeBerry can be reached at jdeberry@timespicayune.com or 504.826.3355. Follow him athttp://connect.nola.com.user/user/jdeberry/indext.html and attwitter.com/jarvisdeberrytp.
http://www.nola.com/opinions/index.ssf/2012/01/supreme_court_ruling_decreases.htmla
Freedom Is Sweet, But New
Problems Set In
BY MANDY LOCKE - STAFF WRITER
September 4, 2011
MEBANE -- Ronald Cotton gently lifts his right arm with his left and rests it in his lap, scowling as he remembers the limb is useless to him.
His right leg is no good now. Cotton's face droops as he talks, yet he tells one story after another, every 10th word or so incomprehensible. They are the burdens left by a stroke in July.
"I was living a pretty good life. Nothing amazing. Then bam," said Cotton, 49. "I never saw it coming."
It has been 16 years since Cotton walked out of prison, free and clear of a rape charge that, at age 23, had doomed him to a prison cell for the rest of his days.
Cotton was among the first of a cluster of men in North Carolina exonerated by DNA evidence long after they were sent to prison based on victim's statements, coerced confessions and jailhouse snitches. As the state began to find more and more wrongful convictions, lawmakers and judicial advocates have tried with limited success to make things right, creating networks and compensation to help ease these men back into society.
But those networks of help have been flimsy, and for the earliest of those exonerated, such as Cotton, they didn't exist.
Cotton and some others are now floundering. A few have found their way, landing secure jobs and housing, and maintaining the good health needed to enjoy it. Some ended up back in prison. Others are too traumatized to hold a job. Health issues have crept up on many.
"They want us to be independent and learn how to do all this stuff and think everything should be OK," said Darryl Hunt, who was exonerated in 2003 and has worked with others who are adjusting to life after prison. "They put you out with no help as to how to adjust."
Cotton was exonerated before the state had much, if any, help for innocent men who had been locked up. After much lobbying from his advocates, legislators agreed to pay him $110,000 for his 11 years behind bars.
For years, Cotton did better than most expected. He met a nice lady, married her and had a little girl. He got a job in the warehouse of LabCorp, the company that tested the DNA evidence that proved his innocence.
He paid cash for a piece of land in Mebane and signed a lease for a modular home to anchor there. He made peace with Jennifer Thompson, the woman who mistakenly identified him as her attacker; the two since have forged an inexplicable bond.
But Cotton's life, like that of so many of the 273 people exonerated by DNA nationwide, has been spiraling downward in the last few years.
His stroke last month came after months of taking his blood pressure medicine haphazardly. Without insurance, he couldn't afford the medicine and took it only when he had some.
Cotton is partially paralyzed.
The medical bills pile up, and he can't figure how to pay them.
"They can't get blood from a stone," Cotton said. "They'll get it when I get it."
An unusual bond
For a while, Cotton's prospects looked good.
He enjoyed local celebrity, in part because of the extraordinary friendship he forged with Thompson.
The two have traveled the country together, speaking about how commonly errors occur with cross-racial identification. A reporter wrote a book, and a producer made a movie about their experience, "Picking Cotton."
Over the years, Cotton and Thompson have propped each other up. They've celebrated births, mourned deaths and cried over strained marriages.
The two remain tight, and Thompson is devastated that Cotton is struggling. Her sanity depends largely on Cotton's well-being.
"When he falters, it undermines a lot for me," said Thompson, 49. "I failed him once, and the state keeps failing him."
The state legislature has increased the annual compensation for those exonerated to $50,000 for each year they were wrongly jailed, but little has been provided in terms of health care, housing assistance or mental health services. That higher rate was not retroactive to Cotton.
Rep. Paul Stam of Apex, a Republican who heads one of the House judiciary committees, said the compensation should be enough to get these men on their feet and provide a decent life.
"This is not a welfare issue," said Stam, who noted that they could apply for public benefits such as Medicaid or disability like anyone else. "The last thing we need to do is to set up a new program just for people who've been exonerated."
Fleeting fame
Last week, at a restaurant in Elon, Cotton and Thompson giggled over sodas. They ribbed each other like siblings. Thompson scolded Cotton for not getting a "handicapped" sticker for his car. She asked whether he ought to be driving. He teased her about her tan and insisted on showing her the latest scar on his leg.
Cotton has spoken to audiences as large as 3,000, describing his journey for people who otherwise wouldn't give him a second look. He gets approached at bars by women who've seen the movie about him and want to get to know him.
"They smell money," he said, "but the truth is, I got none."
These days, Cotton feels no fame. Some days, he said he feels little at all.
Cotton tries to downplay his frustration. He jokes about falling off his bicycle. He insists he is committed to rehabilitation, even though he can't afford to see a physical therapist.
"This ain't gonna beat me," he said.
Hoping for work
In some ways, the challenges that those exonerated of crimes face are no different from those many Americans encounter: lack of health care, unemployment, rocky relationships. What's different, advocates say, is the tools they have to manage those difficulties.
"They languish," Thompson said. "They can't fully get it together."
Many say they are plagued by flashbacks and panic attacks. They struggle with relationships. Some experience difficulties accepting direction from bosses after years of being ordered around by prison guards.
Cotton quit his job in February 2010 in a burst of frustration. He'd been missing work to take speaking gigs. The boss confronted him, and he responded in anger. It would be weeks before he told anyone he lost his job. With the sour economy, work for an uneducated laborer had dwindled.
When Cotton was exonerated in 1995, state officials offered him $5,500 and told him he needed to repay $5,000 for court-appointed lawyers.
Thompson personally lobbied at the legislature for Cotton to get more compensation from the state.
Cotton long ago spent his $110,000 payout. He invested some of the money he got from the book project in stocks, but he said he had to cash that money out in recent years while he was out of work.
Before his conviction, Cotton worked as a cook and did other odd jobs. Now, he makes a mental list of all the jobs he could do: raking leaves, detailing cars, fixing bikes.
He rubs his hand and prays for the feeling to return.
mandy.locke@newsobserver.com or 919-829-8927
Read more: Read more: http://www.newsobserver.com/2011/09/04/1459709/freedom-is-sweet-but-new-problems.html#ixzz1WyPBR7vI
****
EDITORIAL
Unreliable witnesses
A new California law will make it impossible for innocent people to go to prison based on unsupported testimony from jailhouse snitches.
August 11, 2011
Starting next year, California prosecutors can no longer win convictions in cases that rely solely on the uncorroborated testimony of jailhouse informants. That requirement — imposed by a bill, SB 687, that Gov. Jerry Brown signed into law this month — isn't groundbreaking, considering that more than a dozen other states already have similar laws. But it's an important step forward for California.
A series of articles in The Times and a 1990 grand jury report revealed that jailhouse informants were routinely granted favors or given money by prosecutors for what turned out to be false testimony. Dozens of innocent people were sent to prison in the 1980s based on unsupported testimony from snitches. Some convictions were later overturned, but not before many of those wrongly imprisoned spent years behind bars.
The California Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice recommended in 2008 that uncorroborated testimony by jailhouse informants be barred, and some district attorneys moved quickly to set their own restrictions. Other prosecutors, concerned that such rules would make it harder to win convictions, argued that they weren't necessary — judges were already required to instruct jurors to consider inmates' testimony cautiously. Responding to that faction's concerns, then-Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger twice vetoed bills to make reforms.
The reality is that SB 687 won't bar prosecutors from using informants, nor will it strip courts of judicial discretion. The Legislature already has authority to limit the kinds of evidence that can be used in court; for example, it has made polygraph tests inadmissible. This measure is no different.
The new law will, however, require district attorneys to present additional evidence to support jailhouse informant testimony. As Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Steve Cooley has repeatedly said, prosecutors should be wary of any testimony that can't be corroborated.
The restriction on jailhouse informant testimony is a good start, but more ought to be done to fix systemic problems that have resulted in miscarriages of justice. We already have a road map. The commission's 2008 report provided common-sense recommendations, such as requiring police to record interrogations of suspects in cases of serious felonies. Assemblyman Tom Ammiano (D-San Francisco) has introduced a bill to carry out another of the report's suggestions: establishing a group of experts to help improve the reliability of eyewitness identifications.
Some may argue that the state's financial troubles leave it barely able to fund schools, let alone finance programs to protect those who stand accused of crimes. But failing to prevent innocent people from going to jail is too expensive a proposition.
http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/opinion/la-ed-informants-20110811,0,4337038.story?track=rss&utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+latimes%2Fnews%2Fprintedition%2Fopinion+%28Los+Angeles+Times+-+Editorials%2C+Op-Ed%29
****
States look to right
wrong convictions
Supreme Court ruling decreases
chances that prosecutors will be
held accountable
Published: Sunday, January 08, 2012, 8:00 AM
By Jarvis DeBerry
Former death row inmate John Thompson was deprived of a $14 million judgment last yearwhen a divided U.S. Supreme Court ruled that he had failed to prove that his wrongful conviction was caused by then District Attorney Harry Connick's failure to train his prosecutors. That's a lot of money to have ripped away, but according to an essay in the Yale Law Journal Online, what Thompson lost personally isn't as significant as what all Americans lost collectively.
At the offices of the Innocence Project New Orleans in March, former death row inmate John Thompson, who spent 18 years in prison after he was wrongfully convicted of murder when prosecutors withheld evidence, reacts to the U.S. Supreme Court ruling in favor of Orleans Parish District Attorney Leon Cannizzaro, who contended that his office should not have to pay a $14 million judgment.
And what did we lose? Essentially, the ability to hold our prosecutors accountable if their lust for convictions gets ahead of their obligation to see justice prevail. Technically, it's still possible to make a case against prosecutors, but the odds are so stacked against success that the authors David Keenan, Deborah Jane Cooper, David Lebowitz and Tamar Lerer go so far as to call prosecutorial accountability a myth.
A person who's found not guilty can't use that verdict as a basis to sue the district attorney. For obvious reasons, prosecutors have been granted immunity from such suits. Not every unsuccessful prosecution is a malicious prosecution, and you can't have a lawsuit following every acquittal.
Prosecutors are almost never charged criminally if they misbehave and wrongly send a defendant to prison. The 1999 trial of the Dupage Seven, Illinois police officers and prosecutors accused of conspiring to send an innocent man to his death, appears to be, according to the essay, "the first time in American history that a felony prosecution of former prosecutors for misconduct reached the verdict stage." All were found not guilty.
Thompson seemed to have a good case and a good strategy. Connick didn't offer training to his subordinates regarding their obligation to turn over exculpatory evidence. During testimony, Connick himself misstated the requirements, and he also confessed that he stopped reading legal opinions after he was elected. Thus, Thompson argued that his wrongful conviction stemmed from Connick's failure to train his staff, and the exonerated man chose to pursue municipal liability, that is, make the entire office pay. That avenue's still available, but if the facts Thompson presented didn't convince a majority of the court that there was a failure to train, what set of facts ever will?
So, personal lawsuits are out, the criminal pursuit of rogue prosecutors is a once-in-a-lifetime event and now it's near impossible to make an office responsible for the sins of its officers. Where, then, is prosecutorial punishment going to come from? Why, it ought to come from the professional legal associations, the Supreme Court says. They have the power to start proceedings that can strip a lawyer of his or her ability to practice the law. So, you see? Simple.
In ruling against Thompson, the Yale authors say, "the Supreme Court put its full faith in the efficacy of professional standards and disciplinary procedures" even though "bar discipline procedures have not proved a fruitful sanction for deterring prosecutorial misconduct."
Only one prosecutor associated with Thompson's railroading was punished, if you can call it that. Michael Riehlmann, who waited five years to report that prosecutor Gerry Deegan had confessed to suppressing blood evidence that would exonerate Thompson, was recommended for suspension by the Louisiana Attorney Discipline Board. The state Supreme Court, though, downplayed Riehlmann's offense as "merely negligent" and gave him a mere public reprimand.
Illinois is reportedly the only state that publishes the number of complaints against prosecutors it receives and investigates. In 2010, that state received 99 complaints of prosecutorial conduct but only one case got as far as a formal hearing. "In other words," the authors note, "the Illinois disciplinary commission held as many formal hearings involving charges of prosecutorial misconduct as it did charges of 'bad faith avoidance of a student loan.' "
Thompson, according to an interview he recently gave to The Lens, is planning a tour with Barry Scheck, the New York leader of the Innocence Project. "We're focusing on 12 states," he said, "creating a panel in each one of them to look at prosecutorial abuse and wrongful imprisonment, suppressed evidence ... We're asking the attorneys general to step in, in every state, to try to show the need for accountability, to try to show why this particular area is so crucial."
It's way bigger than what Harry Connick's office did to Thompson. It's about what might happen to any one of us now that prosecutors are even further shielded from meaningful accountability.
Jarvis DeBerry can be reached at jdeberry@timespicayune.com or 504.826.3355. Follow him athttp://connect.nola.com.user/user/jdeberry/indext.html and attwitter.com/jarvisdeberrytp.
http://www.nola.com/opinions/index.ssf/2012/01/supreme_court_ruling_decreases.htmla
Freedom Is Sweet, But New
Problems Set In
BY MANDY LOCKE - STAFF WRITER
September 4, 2011
MEBANE -- Ronald Cotton gently lifts his right arm with his left and rests it in his lap, scowling as he remembers the limb is useless to him.
His right leg is no good now. Cotton's face droops as he talks, yet he tells one story after another, every 10th word or so incomprehensible. They are the burdens left by a stroke in July.
"I was living a pretty good life. Nothing amazing. Then bam," said Cotton, 49. "I never saw it coming."
It has been 16 years since Cotton walked out of prison, free and clear of a rape charge that, at age 23, had doomed him to a prison cell for the rest of his days.
Cotton was among the first of a cluster of men in North Carolina exonerated by DNA evidence long after they were sent to prison based on victim's statements, coerced confessions and jailhouse snitches. As the state began to find more and more wrongful convictions, lawmakers and judicial advocates have tried with limited success to make things right, creating networks and compensation to help ease these men back into society.
But those networks of help have been flimsy, and for the earliest of those exonerated, such as Cotton, they didn't exist.
Cotton and some others are now floundering. A few have found their way, landing secure jobs and housing, and maintaining the good health needed to enjoy it. Some ended up back in prison. Others are too traumatized to hold a job. Health issues have crept up on many.
"They want us to be independent and learn how to do all this stuff and think everything should be OK," said Darryl Hunt, who was exonerated in 2003 and has worked with others who are adjusting to life after prison. "They put you out with no help as to how to adjust."
Cotton was exonerated before the state had much, if any, help for innocent men who had been locked up. After much lobbying from his advocates, legislators agreed to pay him $110,000 for his 11 years behind bars.
For years, Cotton did better than most expected. He met a nice lady, married her and had a little girl. He got a job in the warehouse of LabCorp, the company that tested the DNA evidence that proved his innocence.
He paid cash for a piece of land in Mebane and signed a lease for a modular home to anchor there. He made peace with Jennifer Thompson, the woman who mistakenly identified him as her attacker; the two since have forged an inexplicable bond.
But Cotton's life, like that of so many of the 273 people exonerated by DNA nationwide, has been spiraling downward in the last few years.
His stroke last month came after months of taking his blood pressure medicine haphazardly. Without insurance, he couldn't afford the medicine and took it only when he had some.
Cotton is partially paralyzed.
The medical bills pile up, and he can't figure how to pay them.
"They can't get blood from a stone," Cotton said. "They'll get it when I get it."
An unusual bond
For a while, Cotton's prospects looked good.
He enjoyed local celebrity, in part because of the extraordinary friendship he forged with Thompson.
The two have traveled the country together, speaking about how commonly errors occur with cross-racial identification. A reporter wrote a book, and a producer made a movie about their experience, "Picking Cotton."
Over the years, Cotton and Thompson have propped each other up. They've celebrated births, mourned deaths and cried over strained marriages.
The two remain tight, and Thompson is devastated that Cotton is struggling. Her sanity depends largely on Cotton's well-being.
"When he falters, it undermines a lot for me," said Thompson, 49. "I failed him once, and the state keeps failing him."
The state legislature has increased the annual compensation for those exonerated to $50,000 for each year they were wrongly jailed, but little has been provided in terms of health care, housing assistance or mental health services. That higher rate was not retroactive to Cotton.
Rep. Paul Stam of Apex, a Republican who heads one of the House judiciary committees, said the compensation should be enough to get these men on their feet and provide a decent life.
"This is not a welfare issue," said Stam, who noted that they could apply for public benefits such as Medicaid or disability like anyone else. "The last thing we need to do is to set up a new program just for people who've been exonerated."
Fleeting fame
Last week, at a restaurant in Elon, Cotton and Thompson giggled over sodas. They ribbed each other like siblings. Thompson scolded Cotton for not getting a "handicapped" sticker for his car. She asked whether he ought to be driving. He teased her about her tan and insisted on showing her the latest scar on his leg.
Cotton has spoken to audiences as large as 3,000, describing his journey for people who otherwise wouldn't give him a second look. He gets approached at bars by women who've seen the movie about him and want to get to know him.
"They smell money," he said, "but the truth is, I got none."
These days, Cotton feels no fame. Some days, he said he feels little at all.
Cotton tries to downplay his frustration. He jokes about falling off his bicycle. He insists he is committed to rehabilitation, even though he can't afford to see a physical therapist.
"This ain't gonna beat me," he said.
Hoping for work
In some ways, the challenges that those exonerated of crimes face are no different from those many Americans encounter: lack of health care, unemployment, rocky relationships. What's different, advocates say, is the tools they have to manage those difficulties.
"They languish," Thompson said. "They can't fully get it together."
Many say they are plagued by flashbacks and panic attacks. They struggle with relationships. Some experience difficulties accepting direction from bosses after years of being ordered around by prison guards.
Cotton quit his job in February 2010 in a burst of frustration. He'd been missing work to take speaking gigs. The boss confronted him, and he responded in anger. It would be weeks before he told anyone he lost his job. With the sour economy, work for an uneducated laborer had dwindled.
When Cotton was exonerated in 1995, state officials offered him $5,500 and told him he needed to repay $5,000 for court-appointed lawyers.
Thompson personally lobbied at the legislature for Cotton to get more compensation from the state.
Cotton long ago spent his $110,000 payout. He invested some of the money he got from the book project in stocks, but he said he had to cash that money out in recent years while he was out of work.
Before his conviction, Cotton worked as a cook and did other odd jobs. Now, he makes a mental list of all the jobs he could do: raking leaves, detailing cars, fixing bikes.
He rubs his hand and prays for the feeling to return.
mandy.locke@newsobserver.com or 919-829-8927
Read more: Read more: http://www.newsobserver.com/2011/09/04/1459709/freedom-is-sweet-but-new-problems.html#ixzz1WyPBR7vI
****
EDITORIAL
Unreliable witnesses
A new California law will make it impossible for innocent people to go to prison based on unsupported testimony from jailhouse snitches.
August 11, 2011
Starting next year, California prosecutors can no longer win convictions in cases that rely solely on the uncorroborated testimony of jailhouse informants. That requirement — imposed by a bill, SB 687, that Gov. Jerry Brown signed into law this month — isn't groundbreaking, considering that more than a dozen other states already have similar laws. But it's an important step forward for California.
A series of articles in The Times and a 1990 grand jury report revealed that jailhouse informants were routinely granted favors or given money by prosecutors for what turned out to be false testimony. Dozens of innocent people were sent to prison in the 1980s based on unsupported testimony from snitches. Some convictions were later overturned, but not before many of those wrongly imprisoned spent years behind bars.
The California Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice recommended in 2008 that uncorroborated testimony by jailhouse informants be barred, and some district attorneys moved quickly to set their own restrictions. Other prosecutors, concerned that such rules would make it harder to win convictions, argued that they weren't necessary — judges were already required to instruct jurors to consider inmates' testimony cautiously. Responding to that faction's concerns, then-Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger twice vetoed bills to make reforms.
The reality is that SB 687 won't bar prosecutors from using informants, nor will it strip courts of judicial discretion. The Legislature already has authority to limit the kinds of evidence that can be used in court; for example, it has made polygraph tests inadmissible. This measure is no different.
The new law will, however, require district attorneys to present additional evidence to support jailhouse informant testimony. As Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Steve Cooley has repeatedly said, prosecutors should be wary of any testimony that can't be corroborated.
The restriction on jailhouse informant testimony is a good start, but more ought to be done to fix systemic problems that have resulted in miscarriages of justice. We already have a road map. The commission's 2008 report provided common-sense recommendations, such as requiring police to record interrogations of suspects in cases of serious felonies. Assemblyman Tom Ammiano (D-San Francisco) has introduced a bill to carry out another of the report's suggestions: establishing a group of experts to help improve the reliability of eyewitness identifications.
Some may argue that the state's financial troubles leave it barely able to fund schools, let alone finance programs to protect those who stand accused of crimes. But failing to prevent innocent people from going to jail is too expensive a proposition.
http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/opinion/la-ed-informants-20110811,0,4337038.story?track=rss&utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+latimes%2Fnews%2Fprintedition%2Fopinion+%28Los+Angeles+Times+-+Editorials%2C+Op-Ed%29
****
States look to right
wrong convictions
chances that prosecutors will be
held accountable
Published: Sunday, January 08, 2012, 8:00 AM
By Jarvis DeBerry
Former death row inmate John Thompson was deprived of a $14 million judgment last yearwhen a divided U.S. Supreme Court ruled that he had failed to prove that his wrongful conviction was caused by then District Attorney Harry Connick's failure to train his prosecutors. That's a lot of money to have ripped away, but according to an essay in the Yale Law Journal Online, what Thompson lost personally isn't as significant as what all Americans lost collectively.
At the offices of the Innocence Project New Orleans in March, former death row inmate John Thompson, who spent 18 years in prison after he was wrongfully convicted of murder when prosecutors withheld evidence, reacts to the U.S. Supreme Court ruling in favor of Orleans Parish District Attorney Leon Cannizzaro, who contended that his office should not have to pay a $14 million judgment.
And what did we lose? Essentially, the ability to hold our prosecutors accountable if their lust for convictions gets ahead of their obligation to see justice prevail. Technically, it's still possible to make a case against prosecutors, but the odds are so stacked against success that the authors David Keenan, Deborah Jane Cooper, David Lebowitz and Tamar Lerer go so far as to call prosecutorial accountability a myth.
A person who's found not guilty can't use that verdict as a basis to sue the district attorney. For obvious reasons, prosecutors have been granted immunity from such suits. Not every unsuccessful prosecution is a malicious prosecution, and you can't have a lawsuit following every acquittal.
Prosecutors are almost never charged criminally if they misbehave and wrongly send a defendant to prison. The 1999 trial of the Dupage Seven, Illinois police officers and prosecutors accused of conspiring to send an innocent man to his death, appears to be, according to the essay, "the first time in American history that a felony prosecution of former prosecutors for misconduct reached the verdict stage." All were found not guilty.
Thompson seemed to have a good case and a good strategy. Connick didn't offer training to his subordinates regarding their obligation to turn over exculpatory evidence. During testimony, Connick himself misstated the requirements, and he also confessed that he stopped reading legal opinions after he was elected. Thus, Thompson argued that his wrongful conviction stemmed from Connick's failure to train his staff, and the exonerated man chose to pursue municipal liability, that is, make the entire office pay. That avenue's still available, but if the facts Thompson presented didn't convince a majority of the court that there was a failure to train, what set of facts ever will?
So, personal lawsuits are out, the criminal pursuit of rogue prosecutors is a once-in-a-lifetime event and now it's near impossible to make an office responsible for the sins of its officers. Where, then, is prosecutorial punishment going to come from? Why, it ought to come from the professional legal associations, the Supreme Court says. They have the power to start proceedings that can strip a lawyer of his or her ability to practice the law. So, you see? Simple.
In ruling against Thompson, the Yale authors say, "the Supreme Court put its full faith in the efficacy of professional standards and disciplinary procedures" even though "bar discipline procedures have not proved a fruitful sanction for deterring prosecutorial misconduct."
Only one prosecutor associated with Thompson's railroading was punished, if you can call it that. Michael Riehlmann, who waited five years to report that prosecutor Gerry Deegan had confessed to suppressing blood evidence that would exonerate Thompson, was recommended for suspension by the Louisiana Attorney Discipline Board. The state Supreme Court, though, downplayed Riehlmann's offense as "merely negligent" and gave him a mere public reprimand.
Illinois is reportedly the only state that publishes the number of complaints against prosecutors it receives and investigates. In 2010, that state received 99 complaints of prosecutorial conduct but only one case got as far as a formal hearing. "In other words," the authors note, "the Illinois disciplinary commission held as many formal hearings involving charges of prosecutorial misconduct as it did charges of 'bad faith avoidance of a student loan.' "
Thompson, according to an interview he recently gave to The Lens, is planning a tour with Barry Scheck, the New York leader of the Innocence Project. "We're focusing on 12 states," he said, "creating a panel in each one of them to look at prosecutorial abuse and wrongful imprisonment, suppressed evidence ... We're asking the attorneys general to step in, in every state, to try to show the need for accountability, to try to show why this particular area is so crucial."
It's way bigger than what Harry Connick's office did to Thompson. It's about what might happen to any one of us now that prosecutors are even further shielded from meaningful accountability.
Jarvis DeBerry can be reached at jdeberry@timespicayune.com or 504.826.3355. Follow him athttp://connect.nola.com.user/user/jdeberry/indext.html and attwitter.com/jarvisdeberrytp.
http://www.nola.com/opinions/index.ssf/2012/01/supreme_court_ruling_decreases.htmla
Freedom Is Sweet, But New
Problems Set In
BY MANDY LOCKE - STAFF WRITER
September 4, 2011
MEBANE -- Ronald Cotton gently lifts his right arm with his left and rests it in his lap, scowling as he remembers the limb is useless to him.
His right leg is no good now. Cotton's face droops as he talks, yet he tells one story after another, every 10th word or so incomprehensible. They are the burdens left by a stroke in July.
"I was living a pretty good life. Nothing amazing. Then bam," said Cotton, 49. "I never saw it coming."
It has been 16 years since Cotton walked out of prison, free and clear of a rape charge that, at age 23, had doomed him to a prison cell for the rest of his days.
Cotton was among the first of a cluster of men in North Carolina exonerated by DNA evidence long after they were sent to prison based on victim's statements, coerced confessions and jailhouse snitches. As the state began to find more and more wrongful convictions, lawmakers and judicial advocates have tried with limited success to make things right, creating networks and compensation to help ease these men back into society.
But those networks of help have been flimsy, and for the earliest of those exonerated, such as Cotton, they didn't exist.
Cotton and some others are now floundering. A few have found their way, landing secure jobs and housing, and maintaining the good health needed to enjoy it. Some ended up back in prison. Others are too traumatized to hold a job. Health issues have crept up on many.
"They want us to be independent and learn how to do all this stuff and think everything should be OK," said Darryl Hunt, who was exonerated in 2003 and has worked with others who are adjusting to life after prison. "They put you out with no help as to how to adjust."
Cotton was exonerated before the state had much, if any, help for innocent men who had been locked up. After much lobbying from his advocates, legislators agreed to pay him $110,000 for his 11 years behind bars.
For years, Cotton did better than most expected. He met a nice lady, married her and had a little girl. He got a job in the warehouse of LabCorp, the company that tested the DNA evidence that proved his innocence.
He paid cash for a piece of land in Mebane and signed a lease for a modular home to anchor there. He made peace with Jennifer Thompson, the woman who mistakenly identified him as her attacker; the two since have forged an inexplicable bond.
But Cotton's life, like that of so many of the 273 people exonerated by DNA nationwide, has been spiraling downward in the last few years.
His stroke last month came after months of taking his blood pressure medicine haphazardly. Without insurance, he couldn't afford the medicine and took it only when he had some.
Cotton is partially paralyzed.
The medical bills pile up, and he can't figure how to pay them.
"They can't get blood from a stone," Cotton said. "They'll get it when I get it."
An unusual bond
For a while, Cotton's prospects looked good.
He enjoyed local celebrity, in part because of the extraordinary friendship he forged with Thompson.
The two have traveled the country together, speaking about how commonly errors occur with cross-racial identification. A reporter wrote a book, and a producer made a movie about their experience, "Picking Cotton."
Over the years, Cotton and Thompson have propped each other up. They've celebrated births, mourned deaths and cried over strained marriages.
The two remain tight, and Thompson is devastated that Cotton is struggling. Her sanity depends largely on Cotton's well-being.
"When he falters, it undermines a lot for me," said Thompson, 49. "I failed him once, and the state keeps failing him."
The state legislature has increased the annual compensation for those exonerated to $50,000 for each year they were wrongly jailed, but little has been provided in terms of health care, housing assistance or mental health services. That higher rate was not retroactive to Cotton.
Rep. Paul Stam of Apex, a Republican who heads one of the House judiciary committees, said the compensation should be enough to get these men on their feet and provide a decent life.
"This is not a welfare issue," said Stam, who noted that they could apply for public benefits such as Medicaid or disability like anyone else. "The last thing we need to do is to set up a new program just for people who've been exonerated."
Fleeting fame
Last week, at a restaurant in Elon, Cotton and Thompson giggled over sodas. They ribbed each other like siblings. Thompson scolded Cotton for not getting a "handicapped" sticker for his car. She asked whether he ought to be driving. He teased her about her tan and insisted on showing her the latest scar on his leg.
Cotton has spoken to audiences as large as 3,000, describing his journey for people who otherwise wouldn't give him a second look. He gets approached at bars by women who've seen the movie about him and want to get to know him.
"They smell money," he said, "but the truth is, I got none."
These days, Cotton feels no fame. Some days, he said he feels little at all.
Cotton tries to downplay his frustration. He jokes about falling off his bicycle. He insists he is committed to rehabilitation, even though he can't afford to see a physical therapist.
"This ain't gonna beat me," he said.
Hoping for work
In some ways, the challenges that those exonerated of crimes face are no different from those many Americans encounter: lack of health care, unemployment, rocky relationships. What's different, advocates say, is the tools they have to manage those difficulties.
"They languish," Thompson said. "They can't fully get it together."
Many say they are plagued by flashbacks and panic attacks. They struggle with relationships. Some experience difficulties accepting direction from bosses after years of being ordered around by prison guards.
Cotton quit his job in February 2010 in a burst of frustration. He'd been missing work to take speaking gigs. The boss confronted him, and he responded in anger. It would be weeks before he told anyone he lost his job. With the sour economy, work for an uneducated laborer had dwindled.
When Cotton was exonerated in 1995, state officials offered him $5,500 and told him he needed to repay $5,000 for court-appointed lawyers.
Thompson personally lobbied at the legislature for Cotton to get more compensation from the state.
Cotton long ago spent his $110,000 payout. He invested some of the money he got from the book project in stocks, but he said he had to cash that money out in recent years while he was out of work.
Before his conviction, Cotton worked as a cook and did other odd jobs. Now, he makes a mental list of all the jobs he could do: raking leaves, detailing cars, fixing bikes.
He rubs his hand and prays for the feeling to return.
mandy.locke@newsobserver.com or 919-829-8927
Read more: Read more: http://www.newsobserver.com/2011/09/04/1459709/freedom-is-sweet-but-new-problems.html#ixzz1WyPBR7vI
****
EDITORIAL
Unreliable witnesses
A new California law will make it impossible for innocent people to go to prison based on unsupported testimony from jailhouse snitches.
August 11, 2011
Starting next year, California prosecutors can no longer win convictions in cases that rely solely on the uncorroborated testimony of jailhouse informants. That requirement — imposed by a bill, SB 687, that Gov. Jerry Brown signed into law this month — isn't groundbreaking, considering that more than a dozen other states already have similar laws. But it's an important step forward for California.
A series of articles in The Times and a 1990 grand jury report revealed that jailhouse informants were routinely granted favors or given money by prosecutors for what turned out to be false testimony. Dozens of innocent people were sent to prison in the 1980s based on unsupported testimony from snitches. Some convictions were later overturned, but not before many of those wrongly imprisoned spent years behind bars.
The California Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice recommended in 2008 that uncorroborated testimony by jailhouse informants be barred, and some district attorneys moved quickly to set their own restrictions. Other prosecutors, concerned that such rules would make it harder to win convictions, argued that they weren't necessary — judges were already required to instruct jurors to consider inmates' testimony cautiously. Responding to that faction's concerns, then-Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger twice vetoed bills to make reforms.
The reality is that SB 687 won't bar prosecutors from using informants, nor will it strip courts of judicial discretion. The Legislature already has authority to limit the kinds of evidence that can be used in court; for example, it has made polygraph tests inadmissible. This measure is no different.
The new law will, however, require district attorneys to present additional evidence to support jailhouse informant testimony. As Los Angeles County Dist. Atty. Steve Cooley has repeatedly said, prosecutors should be wary of any testimony that can't be corroborated.
The restriction on jailhouse informant testimony is a good start, but more ought to be done to fix systemic problems that have resulted in miscarriages of justice. We already have a road map. The commission's 2008 report provided common-sense recommendations, such as requiring police to record interrogations of suspects in cases of serious felonies. Assemblyman Tom Ammiano (D-San Francisco) has introduced a bill to carry out another of the report's suggestions: establishing a group of experts to help improve the reliability of eyewitness identifications.
Some may argue that the state's financial troubles leave it barely able to fund schools, let alone finance programs to protect those who stand accused of crimes. But failing to prevent innocent people from going to jail is too expensive a proposition.
http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/opinion/la-ed-informants-20110811,0,4337038.story?track=rss&utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+latimes%2Fnews%2Fprintedition%2Fopinion+%28Los+Angeles+Times+-+Editorials%2C+Op-Ed%29
****
States look to right
wrong convictions
By Jon Ostendorff, USA TODAY
July 18, 2011
ASHEVILLE, N.C. — Kenneth Kagonyera had been in the county jail for 13 months when he finally gave in.
Prosecutors and investigators interrogated him repeatedly, he says, and told him he faced at least 25 years in prison for first-degree murder, with life or a death sentence possible. So he pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in the 2000 slaying of Walter Rodney Bowman.
"It just kind of wore down on me," he later told the commission investigating whether the justice system wrongly imprisoned him.
Kagonyera was sentenced to 15 years in prison, as was his co-defendant, Robert Wilcoxson. Both continue to maintain their innocence.
In September, the two men are scheduled to have a hearing before a three-judge panel that could free them. The hearing comes after the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission in April found enough evidence to indicate the men are innocent. That evidence includes the confession of another man and DNA testing that points to other suspects.
North Carolina is among a growing number of states taking steps to prevent and address wrongful convictions and grant greater access to biological evidence.
State justice panels take a second look
Nine states have established criminal justice reform commissions, according to the Innocence Project:
California: Its Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice has looked into wrongful convictions since 2004 by examining the causes of eyewitness misidentification. It has also tackled uses of jailhouse informants and mishandled forensic evidence.
Connecticut: The state Advisory Commission on Wrongful Convictions, created in 2003, reviews wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent similar mistakes.
Florida: Its Innocence Commission of attorneys, lawmakers, judges, prosecutors and police is to examine common errors in wrongful convictions.
Illinois: The Governor’s Commission on Capital Punishment was created 2000 to prevent the execution of innocent people. A separate study committee was created in 2007 to review DNA exonerations in non-capital cases.
New York: A task force established in 2009 analyzes the causes of wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent problems.
North Carolina: The only state investigative innocence commission can probe cases of wrongful convictions and order hearings before a three-judge panel when evidence points to actual innocence.
Pennsylvania: The state’s Innocence Commission was set up in 2007 to examine cases and make reform recommendations.
Texas: Its Criminal Justice Integrity Unit examines causes of wrongful convictions. In 2009, lawmakers set up an advisory panel to assist the state Task Force on Indigent Defense in studying wrongful convictions and recommending changes.
Wisconsin: A state Task Force started examining causes of wrongful convictions in 2003. Lawmakers two years later passed laws to better preserve biological evidence, improve eyewitness identification procedures and require interrogation recordings.
Source: The Innocence Project
Until recently, that was largely the purview of the privately funded Innocence Project, which has been involved in 154 DNA exonerations in the USA since 1989, according the group's research director, Emily West.
Lawmakers in Massachusetts are considering legislation that would establish a right to post-conviction DNA testing. If the bill passes, Oklahoma will be the only state that does not have a law in this area, according to the Innocence Project.
In Texas, state leaders are awaiting a commission study on the effects of innocence-related laws on eyewitness identification, the recording of interrogations and post-conviction DNA testing, the Innocence Project says.
In Florida, a commission created to examine the causes of wrongful convictions delivered a report to the state Supreme Court on June 30 calling for police to follow state-issued guidelines on photo and live suspect lineups.
Six other states — California, Connecticut, Illinois, New York, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin — have established commissions, the Innocence Project says. The commissions study the causes of wrongful convictions and make recommendations to lawmakers, police and the courts.
North Carolina has the nation's only investigative innocence commission. It investigates and evaluates post-conviction claims of factual innocence and can refer cases to a three-judge panel for a ruling.
The commission has heard three other cases, one of which resulted in the release of a man who served almost 17 years in prison for a murder he didn't commit. A three-judge panel found Greg Taylor innocent in February 2010.
District Attorney Ron Moore, the elected prosecutor who handled the Kagonyera and Wilcoxson case in North Carolina, has declined to discuss their pending hearing before the panel.
Kagonyera's criminal history prior to the 2000 murder charge included assault with a deadly weapon and cruelty to animals, according to North Carolina prison records. Wilcoxson had no prior convictions, according to prison records.
Stephen Saloom, Innocence Project policy director, says he expects more reform.
"We are seeing tremendous receptivity across the country to the fact that biological evidence needs to be preserved to assess claims of wrongful convictions and to solve the thousands and thousands of cold cases that can be aided by DNA testing years after the crimes are committed," he says.
Elsewhere:
•Johnny Pinchback became the 22nd person exonerated through DNA testing in Dallas County, Texas, when a judge released him on May 12. He spent 27 years in prison for the rape of two teenage girls before being cleared. The prosecutor didn't contest the finding.
•A judge in Arkansas recently ordered DNA testing for a man convicted of killing two people in 1987. The 60-year-old man has maintained his innocence during his entire time in prison.
•Four men in Chicago convicted of a 1994 rape and murder are asking to be released from prison after a DNA test points to another suspect. DNA tests at the time had excluded the men.
Prosecutors have opposed some efforts.
In North Carolina, a House bill supported by the state's Conference of District Attorneys would have kept people who pleaded guilty from asking for help from the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission.
Prosecutors wanted defendants who pleaded guilty to use existing procedures, such as motions for appropriate relief, to handle their claims. That part of the bill was dropped in a compromise. "It wasn't going to pass with it in it," said Peg Doer, executive director of the Conference of District Attorneys.
Twenty-eight percent of exonerations nationally have involved defendants who pleaded guilty, according to Saloom.
Contributing: The Associated Press.
http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2011-07-17-dna-evidence-exonerates-innocent-prisoners-wrongful-convictions_n.htm
****
Re-open flawed salt murder case
The Nueces County DA should correct an admitted injustice.
Express-News Editorial Board
Published 08:46 p.m., Thursday, May 12, 2011
Few crimes inspire more outrage than crimes against children. Among those crimes, child murders provoke a societal reaction that demands swift and severe justice.
Such was the case in the trial of Hannah Overton, accused of the 2006 murder of her 4-year-old foster son Andrew Burd. In 2007, a jury in Corpus Christi found Overton guilty of capital murder. She is serving a mandatory life sentence without parole.
But as San Antonio Express-News staff writer John MacCormack has reported, the case against Overton was deeply flawed. Even former Nueces County District Attorney Anna Jimenez, who as a prosecutor helped argue the case against Overton, now concedes that her conviction was “an injustice.”
Overton, a mother of five who worked in Mexican orphanages, hardly fits the profile of a child killer. Andrew was born to an alcohol- and drug-using teenage mother who lost custody of the child. Among his many developmental and health problems, Andrew suffered from an eating disorder — possibly a genetic disorder called Prader-Willi syndrome that causes an uncontrollable appetite.
That's an essential point in this case, because the bizarre allegation against Overton — for which she is now sentenced to spend life behind bars — is that she poisoned Andrew by forcing him to ingest a lethal amount of salt. But Overton's new attorney, Cynthia Orr of San Antonio, contends the prosecution withheld critical evidence about Andrew's medical history as well as medical evidence that erodes the case for intentional poising.
The 13th Court of Appeals and the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals have denied appeals in the case. But those appeals were made before the full prosecution file was made available to Orr and before Jimenez acknowledged ethical and procedural lapses by the lead prosecutor in the case that could have been favorable to Overton's defense.
Despite Jimenez's acknowledgment of an injustice, the current Nueces County District Attorney, Mark Skurka, is still arguing in court against re-opening the case.
Skurka should follow the example of Washington-Burleson County District Attorney Bill Parham, who last year filed a motion to dismiss charges against Anthony Graves in a murder case riddled with prosecutorial misconduct. “There is nothing that connects Anthony Graves to this crime,” Parham told the Houston Chronicle. Graves was released in October after serving 18 years in prison.
Not only is there nothing to connect Overton to the crime, there's also good reason to believe there may not have even been a crime.
Andrew Burd's death was tragic, but there's ample reason to question whether he was murdered and even more reason to doubt that his foster mother killed him by forcing him to eat a deadly amount of salt. The Court of Criminal Appeals should move swiftly to rehear the case against Overton. To correct an acknowledged injustice, the Nueces County district attorney should support reopening the case.
Read more: http://www.mysanantonio.com/default/article/Re-open-flawed-salt-murder-case-1377105.php#ixzz1MCmKqQXT
****
By Jon Ostendorff, USA TODAY
July 18, 2011
ASHEVILLE, N.C. — Kenneth Kagonyera had been in the county jail for 13 months when he finally gave in.
Prosecutors and investigators interrogated him repeatedly, he says, and told him he faced at least 25 years in prison for first-degree murder, with life or a death sentence possible. So he pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in the 2000 slaying of Walter Rodney Bowman.
"It just kind of wore down on me," he later told the commission investigating whether the justice system wrongly imprisoned him.
Kagonyera was sentenced to 15 years in prison, as was his co-defendant, Robert Wilcoxson. Both continue to maintain their innocence.
In September, the two men are scheduled to have a hearing before a three-judge panel that could free them. The hearing comes after the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission in April found enough evidence to indicate the men are innocent. That evidence includes the confession of another man and DNA testing that points to other suspects.
North Carolina is among a growing number of states taking steps to prevent and address wrongful convictions and grant greater access to biological evidence.
State justice panels take a second look
Nine states have established criminal justice reform commissions, according to the Innocence Project:
California: Its Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice has looked into wrongful convictions since 2004 by examining the causes of eyewitness misidentification. It has also tackled uses of jailhouse informants and mishandled forensic evidence.
Connecticut: The state Advisory Commission on Wrongful Convictions, created in 2003, reviews wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent similar mistakes.
Florida: Its Innocence Commission of attorneys, lawmakers, judges, prosecutors and police is to examine common errors in wrongful convictions.
Illinois: The Governor’s Commission on Capital Punishment was created 2000 to prevent the execution of innocent people. A separate study committee was created in 2007 to review DNA exonerations in non-capital cases.
New York: A task force established in 2009 analyzes the causes of wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent problems.
North Carolina: The only state investigative innocence commission can probe cases of wrongful convictions and order hearings before a three-judge panel when evidence points to actual innocence.
Pennsylvania: The state’s Innocence Commission was set up in 2007 to examine cases and make reform recommendations.
Texas: Its Criminal Justice Integrity Unit examines causes of wrongful convictions. In 2009, lawmakers set up an advisory panel to assist the state Task Force on Indigent Defense in studying wrongful convictions and recommending changes.
Wisconsin: A state Task Force started examining causes of wrongful convictions in 2003. Lawmakers two years later passed laws to better preserve biological evidence, improve eyewitness identification procedures and require interrogation recordings.
Source: The Innocence Project
Until recently, that was largely the purview of the privately funded Innocence Project, which has been involved in 154 DNA exonerations in the USA since 1989, according the group's research director, Emily West.
Lawmakers in Massachusetts are considering legislation that would establish a right to post-conviction DNA testing. If the bill passes, Oklahoma will be the only state that does not have a law in this area, according to the Innocence Project.
In Texas, state leaders are awaiting a commission study on the effects of innocence-related laws on eyewitness identification, the recording of interrogations and post-conviction DNA testing, the Innocence Project says.
In Florida, a commission created to examine the causes of wrongful convictions delivered a report to the state Supreme Court on June 30 calling for police to follow state-issued guidelines on photo and live suspect lineups.
Six other states — California, Connecticut, Illinois, New York, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin — have established commissions, the Innocence Project says. The commissions study the causes of wrongful convictions and make recommendations to lawmakers, police and the courts.
North Carolina has the nation's only investigative innocence commission. It investigates and evaluates post-conviction claims of factual innocence and can refer cases to a three-judge panel for a ruling.
The commission has heard three other cases, one of which resulted in the release of a man who served almost 17 years in prison for a murder he didn't commit. A three-judge panel found Greg Taylor innocent in February 2010.
District Attorney Ron Moore, the elected prosecutor who handled the Kagonyera and Wilcoxson case in North Carolina, has declined to discuss their pending hearing before the panel.
Kagonyera's criminal history prior to the 2000 murder charge included assault with a deadly weapon and cruelty to animals, according to North Carolina prison records. Wilcoxson had no prior convictions, according to prison records.
Stephen Saloom, Innocence Project policy director, says he expects more reform.
"We are seeing tremendous receptivity across the country to the fact that biological evidence needs to be preserved to assess claims of wrongful convictions and to solve the thousands and thousands of cold cases that can be aided by DNA testing years after the crimes are committed," he says.
Elsewhere:
•Johnny Pinchback became the 22nd person exonerated through DNA testing in Dallas County, Texas, when a judge released him on May 12. He spent 27 years in prison for the rape of two teenage girls before being cleared. The prosecutor didn't contest the finding.
•A judge in Arkansas recently ordered DNA testing for a man convicted of killing two people in 1987. The 60-year-old man has maintained his innocence during his entire time in prison.
•Four men in Chicago convicted of a 1994 rape and murder are asking to be released from prison after a DNA test points to another suspect. DNA tests at the time had excluded the men.
Prosecutors have opposed some efforts.
In North Carolina, a House bill supported by the state's Conference of District Attorneys would have kept people who pleaded guilty from asking for help from the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission.
Prosecutors wanted defendants who pleaded guilty to use existing procedures, such as motions for appropriate relief, to handle their claims. That part of the bill was dropped in a compromise. "It wasn't going to pass with it in it," said Peg Doer, executive director of the Conference of District Attorneys.
Twenty-eight percent of exonerations nationally have involved defendants who pleaded guilty, according to Saloom.
Contributing: The Associated Press.
http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2011-07-17-dna-evidence-exonerates-innocent-prisoners-wrongful-convictions_n.htm
****
Re-open flawed salt murder case
The Nueces County DA should correct an admitted injustice.
Express-News Editorial Board
Published 08:46 p.m., Thursday, May 12, 2011
Few crimes inspire more outrage than crimes against children. Among those crimes, child murders provoke a societal reaction that demands swift and severe justice.
Such was the case in the trial of Hannah Overton, accused of the 2006 murder of her 4-year-old foster son Andrew Burd. In 2007, a jury in Corpus Christi found Overton guilty of capital murder. She is serving a mandatory life sentence without parole.
But as San Antonio Express-News staff writer John MacCormack has reported, the case against Overton was deeply flawed. Even former Nueces County District Attorney Anna Jimenez, who as a prosecutor helped argue the case against Overton, now concedes that her conviction was “an injustice.”
Overton, a mother of five who worked in Mexican orphanages, hardly fits the profile of a child killer. Andrew was born to an alcohol- and drug-using teenage mother who lost custody of the child. Among his many developmental and health problems, Andrew suffered from an eating disorder — possibly a genetic disorder called Prader-Willi syndrome that causes an uncontrollable appetite.
That's an essential point in this case, because the bizarre allegation against Overton — for which she is now sentenced to spend life behind bars — is that she poisoned Andrew by forcing him to ingest a lethal amount of salt. But Overton's new attorney, Cynthia Orr of San Antonio, contends the prosecution withheld critical evidence about Andrew's medical history as well as medical evidence that erodes the case for intentional poising.
The 13th Court of Appeals and the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals have denied appeals in the case. But those appeals were made before the full prosecution file was made available to Orr and before Jimenez acknowledged ethical and procedural lapses by the lead prosecutor in the case that could have been favorable to Overton's defense.
Despite Jimenez's acknowledgment of an injustice, the current Nueces County District Attorney, Mark Skurka, is still arguing in court against re-opening the case.
Skurka should follow the example of Washington-Burleson County District Attorney Bill Parham, who last year filed a motion to dismiss charges against Anthony Graves in a murder case riddled with prosecutorial misconduct. “There is nothing that connects Anthony Graves to this crime,” Parham told the Houston Chronicle. Graves was released in October after serving 18 years in prison.
Not only is there nothing to connect Overton to the crime, there's also good reason to believe there may not have even been a crime.
Andrew Burd's death was tragic, but there's ample reason to question whether he was murdered and even more reason to doubt that his foster mother killed him by forcing him to eat a deadly amount of salt. The Court of Criminal Appeals should move swiftly to rehear the case against Overton. To correct an acknowledged injustice, the Nueces County district attorney should support reopening the case.
Read more: http://www.mysanantonio.com/default/article/Re-open-flawed-salt-murder-case-1377105.php#ixzz1MCmKqQXT
****
By Jon Ostendorff, USA TODAY
July 18, 2011
ASHEVILLE, N.C. — Kenneth Kagonyera had been in the county jail for 13 months when he finally gave in.
Prosecutors and investigators interrogated him repeatedly, he says, and told him he faced at least 25 years in prison for first-degree murder, with life or a death sentence possible. So he pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in the 2000 slaying of Walter Rodney Bowman.
"It just kind of wore down on me," he later told the commission investigating whether the justice system wrongly imprisoned him.
Kagonyera was sentenced to 15 years in prison, as was his co-defendant, Robert Wilcoxson. Both continue to maintain their innocence.
In September, the two men are scheduled to have a hearing before a three-judge panel that could free them. The hearing comes after the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission in April found enough evidence to indicate the men are innocent. That evidence includes the confession of another man and DNA testing that points to other suspects.
North Carolina is among a growing number of states taking steps to prevent and address wrongful convictions and grant greater access to biological evidence.
State justice panels take a second look
Nine states have established criminal justice reform commissions, according to the Innocence Project:
California: Its Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice has looked into wrongful convictions since 2004 by examining the causes of eyewitness misidentification. It has also tackled uses of jailhouse informants and mishandled forensic evidence.
Connecticut: The state Advisory Commission on Wrongful Convictions, created in 2003, reviews wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent similar mistakes.
Florida: Its Innocence Commission of attorneys, lawmakers, judges, prosecutors and police is to examine common errors in wrongful convictions.
Illinois: The Governor’s Commission on Capital Punishment was created 2000 to prevent the execution of innocent people. A separate study committee was created in 2007 to review DNA exonerations in non-capital cases.
New York: A task force established in 2009 analyzes the causes of wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent problems.
North Carolina: The only state investigative innocence commission can probe cases of wrongful convictions and order hearings before a three-judge panel when evidence points to actual innocence.
Pennsylvania: The state’s Innocence Commission was set up in 2007 to examine cases and make reform recommendations.
Texas: Its Criminal Justice Integrity Unit examines causes of wrongful convictions. In 2009, lawmakers set up an advisory panel to assist the state Task Force on Indigent Defense in studying wrongful convictions and recommending changes.
Wisconsin: A state Task Force started examining causes of wrongful convictions in 2003. Lawmakers two years later passed laws to better preserve biological evidence, improve eyewitness identification procedures and require interrogation recordings.
Source: The Innocence Project
Until recently, that was largely the purview of the privately funded Innocence Project, which has been involved in 154 DNA exonerations in the USA since 1989, according the group's research director, Emily West.
Lawmakers in Massachusetts are considering legislation that would establish a right to post-conviction DNA testing. If the bill passes, Oklahoma will be the only state that does not have a law in this area, according to the Innocence Project.
In Texas, state leaders are awaiting a commission study on the effects of innocence-related laws on eyewitness identification, the recording of interrogations and post-conviction DNA testing, the Innocence Project says.
In Florida, a commission created to examine the causes of wrongful convictions delivered a report to the state Supreme Court on June 30 calling for police to follow state-issued guidelines on photo and live suspect lineups.
Six other states — California, Connecticut, Illinois, New York, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin — have established commissions, the Innocence Project says. The commissions study the causes of wrongful convictions and make recommendations to lawmakers, police and the courts.
North Carolina has the nation's only investigative innocence commission. It investigates and evaluates post-conviction claims of factual innocence and can refer cases to a three-judge panel for a ruling.
The commission has heard three other cases, one of which resulted in the release of a man who served almost 17 years in prison for a murder he didn't commit. A three-judge panel found Greg Taylor innocent in February 2010.
District Attorney Ron Moore, the elected prosecutor who handled the Kagonyera and Wilcoxson case in North Carolina, has declined to discuss their pending hearing before the panel.
Kagonyera's criminal history prior to the 2000 murder charge included assault with a deadly weapon and cruelty to animals, according to North Carolina prison records. Wilcoxson had no prior convictions, according to prison records.
Stephen Saloom, Innocence Project policy director, says he expects more reform.
"We are seeing tremendous receptivity across the country to the fact that biological evidence needs to be preserved to assess claims of wrongful convictions and to solve the thousands and thousands of cold cases that can be aided by DNA testing years after the crimes are committed," he says.
Elsewhere:
•Johnny Pinchback became the 22nd person exonerated through DNA testing in Dallas County, Texas, when a judge released him on May 12. He spent 27 years in prison for the rape of two teenage girls before being cleared. The prosecutor didn't contest the finding.
•A judge in Arkansas recently ordered DNA testing for a man convicted of killing two people in 1987. The 60-year-old man has maintained his innocence during his entire time in prison.
•Four men in Chicago convicted of a 1994 rape and murder are asking to be released from prison after a DNA test points to another suspect. DNA tests at the time had excluded the men.
Prosecutors have opposed some efforts.
In North Carolina, a House bill supported by the state's Conference of District Attorneys would have kept people who pleaded guilty from asking for help from the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission.
Prosecutors wanted defendants who pleaded guilty to use existing procedures, such as motions for appropriate relief, to handle their claims. That part of the bill was dropped in a compromise. "It wasn't going to pass with it in it," said Peg Doer, executive director of the Conference of District Attorneys.
Twenty-eight percent of exonerations nationally have involved defendants who pleaded guilty, according to Saloom.
Contributing: The Associated Press.
http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2011-07-17-dna-evidence-exonerates-innocent-prisoners-wrongful-convictions_n.htm
July 18, 2011
ASHEVILLE, N.C. — Kenneth Kagonyera had been in the county jail for 13 months when he finally gave in.
Prosecutors and investigators interrogated him repeatedly, he says, and told him he faced at least 25 years in prison for first-degree murder, with life or a death sentence possible. So he pleaded guilty to second-degree murder in the 2000 slaying of Walter Rodney Bowman.
"It just kind of wore down on me," he later told the commission investigating whether the justice system wrongly imprisoned him.
Kagonyera was sentenced to 15 years in prison, as was his co-defendant, Robert Wilcoxson. Both continue to maintain their innocence.
In September, the two men are scheduled to have a hearing before a three-judge panel that could free them. The hearing comes after the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission in April found enough evidence to indicate the men are innocent. That evidence includes the confession of another man and DNA testing that points to other suspects.
North Carolina is among a growing number of states taking steps to prevent and address wrongful convictions and grant greater access to biological evidence.
State justice panels take a second look
Nine states have established criminal justice reform commissions, according to the Innocence Project:
California: Its Commission on the Fair Administration of Justice has looked into wrongful convictions since 2004 by examining the causes of eyewitness misidentification. It has also tackled uses of jailhouse informants and mishandled forensic evidence.
Connecticut: The state Advisory Commission on Wrongful Convictions, created in 2003, reviews wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent similar mistakes.
Florida: Its Innocence Commission of attorneys, lawmakers, judges, prosecutors and police is to examine common errors in wrongful convictions.
Illinois: The Governor’s Commission on Capital Punishment was created 2000 to prevent the execution of innocent people. A separate study committee was created in 2007 to review DNA exonerations in non-capital cases.
New York: A task force established in 2009 analyzes the causes of wrongful convictions and recommends changes to prevent problems.
North Carolina: The only state investigative innocence commission can probe cases of wrongful convictions and order hearings before a three-judge panel when evidence points to actual innocence.
Pennsylvania: The state’s Innocence Commission was set up in 2007 to examine cases and make reform recommendations.
Texas: Its Criminal Justice Integrity Unit examines causes of wrongful convictions. In 2009, lawmakers set up an advisory panel to assist the state Task Force on Indigent Defense in studying wrongful convictions and recommending changes.
Wisconsin: A state Task Force started examining causes of wrongful convictions in 2003. Lawmakers two years later passed laws to better preserve biological evidence, improve eyewitness identification procedures and require interrogation recordings.
Source: The Innocence Project
Until recently, that was largely the purview of the privately funded Innocence Project, which has been involved in 154 DNA exonerations in the USA since 1989, according the group's research director, Emily West.
Lawmakers in Massachusetts are considering legislation that would establish a right to post-conviction DNA testing. If the bill passes, Oklahoma will be the only state that does not have a law in this area, according to the Innocence Project.
In Texas, state leaders are awaiting a commission study on the effects of innocence-related laws on eyewitness identification, the recording of interrogations and post-conviction DNA testing, the Innocence Project says.
In Florida, a commission created to examine the causes of wrongful convictions delivered a report to the state Supreme Court on June 30 calling for police to follow state-issued guidelines on photo and live suspect lineups.
Six other states — California, Connecticut, Illinois, New York, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin — have established commissions, the Innocence Project says. The commissions study the causes of wrongful convictions and make recommendations to lawmakers, police and the courts.
North Carolina has the nation's only investigative innocence commission. It investigates and evaluates post-conviction claims of factual innocence and can refer cases to a three-judge panel for a ruling.
The commission has heard three other cases, one of which resulted in the release of a man who served almost 17 years in prison for a murder he didn't commit. A three-judge panel found Greg Taylor innocent in February 2010.
District Attorney Ron Moore, the elected prosecutor who handled the Kagonyera and Wilcoxson case in North Carolina, has declined to discuss their pending hearing before the panel.
Kagonyera's criminal history prior to the 2000 murder charge included assault with a deadly weapon and cruelty to animals, according to North Carolina prison records. Wilcoxson had no prior convictions, according to prison records.
Stephen Saloom, Innocence Project policy director, says he expects more reform.
"We are seeing tremendous receptivity across the country to the fact that biological evidence needs to be preserved to assess claims of wrongful convictions and to solve the thousands and thousands of cold cases that can be aided by DNA testing years after the crimes are committed," he says.
Elsewhere:
•Johnny Pinchback became the 22nd person exonerated through DNA testing in Dallas County, Texas, when a judge released him on May 12. He spent 27 years in prison for the rape of two teenage girls before being cleared. The prosecutor didn't contest the finding.
•A judge in Arkansas recently ordered DNA testing for a man convicted of killing two people in 1987. The 60-year-old man has maintained his innocence during his entire time in prison.
•Four men in Chicago convicted of a 1994 rape and murder are asking to be released from prison after a DNA test points to another suspect. DNA tests at the time had excluded the men.
Prosecutors have opposed some efforts.
In North Carolina, a House bill supported by the state's Conference of District Attorneys would have kept people who pleaded guilty from asking for help from the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission.
Prosecutors wanted defendants who pleaded guilty to use existing procedures, such as motions for appropriate relief, to handle their claims. That part of the bill was dropped in a compromise. "It wasn't going to pass with it in it," said Peg Doer, executive director of the Conference of District Attorneys.
Twenty-eight percent of exonerations nationally have involved defendants who pleaded guilty, according to Saloom.
Contributing: The Associated Press.
http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2011-07-17-dna-evidence-exonerates-innocent-prisoners-wrongful-convictions_n.htm
****
Re-open flawed salt murder case
The Nueces County DA should correct an admitted injustice.
Express-News Editorial Board
Published 08:46 p.m., Thursday, May 12, 2011
Few crimes inspire more outrage than crimes against children. Among those crimes, child murders provoke a societal reaction that demands swift and severe justice.
Such was the case in the trial of Hannah Overton, accused of the 2006 murder of her 4-year-old foster son Andrew Burd. In 2007, a jury in Corpus Christi found Overton guilty of capital murder. She is serving a mandatory life sentence without parole.
But as San Antonio Express-News staff writer John MacCormack has reported, the case against Overton was deeply flawed. Even former Nueces County District Attorney Anna Jimenez, who as a prosecutor helped argue the case against Overton, now concedes that her conviction was “an injustice.”
Overton, a mother of five who worked in Mexican orphanages, hardly fits the profile of a child killer. Andrew was born to an alcohol- and drug-using teenage mother who lost custody of the child. Among his many developmental and health problems, Andrew suffered from an eating disorder — possibly a genetic disorder called Prader-Willi syndrome that causes an uncontrollable appetite.
That's an essential point in this case, because the bizarre allegation against Overton — for which she is now sentenced to spend life behind bars — is that she poisoned Andrew by forcing him to ingest a lethal amount of salt. But Overton's new attorney, Cynthia Orr of San Antonio, contends the prosecution withheld critical evidence about Andrew's medical history as well as medical evidence that erodes the case for intentional poising.
The 13th Court of Appeals and the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals have denied appeals in the case. But those appeals were made before the full prosecution file was made available to Orr and before Jimenez acknowledged ethical and procedural lapses by the lead prosecutor in the case that could have been favorable to Overton's defense.
Despite Jimenez's acknowledgment of an injustice, the current Nueces County District Attorney, Mark Skurka, is still arguing in court against re-opening the case.
Skurka should follow the example of Washington-Burleson County District Attorney Bill Parham, who last year filed a motion to dismiss charges against Anthony Graves in a murder case riddled with prosecutorial misconduct. “There is nothing that connects Anthony Graves to this crime,” Parham told the Houston Chronicle. Graves was released in October after serving 18 years in prison.
Not only is there nothing to connect Overton to the crime, there's also good reason to believe there may not have even been a crime.
Andrew Burd's death was tragic, but there's ample reason to question whether he was murdered and even more reason to doubt that his foster mother killed him by forcing him to eat a deadly amount of salt. The Court of Criminal Appeals should move swiftly to rehear the case against Overton. To correct an acknowledged injustice, the Nueces County district attorney should support reopening the case.
Read more: http://www.mysanantonio.com/default/article/Re-open-flawed-salt-murder-case-1377105.php#ixzz1MCmKqQXT
****
