You Could Be Wrongfully Imprisoned Like I Was--Unless Governor Schwarzenegger Signs SB 511 and SB 609

By Harold Hall

Last month, I celebrated an untraditional anniversary. August 17, 2007 marked my third year of freedom from wrongful imprisonment. I spent nearly twenty years in prison for a crime I did not commit.

I think people want the assurance that something like this couldn’t happen to them. I wouldn’t wish the unique nightmare of wrongful conviction on my worst enemy, but I cannot provide this guarantee to anyone. That is because many of the methods and procedures that were used to secure my conviction are still allowable under California law.

In 1985, I was convicted of a double homicide. There wasn’t a smidgeon of forensic or biological evidence that could connect me to the two slayings. Still, police zeroed in on me. They brought me to an interrogation room, where I was handcuffed to a chair, denied food, water, and the use of a restroom. They told me they had evidence of my guilt, including fingerprints, blood and semen. The more I denied my involvement in these murders, the harder they pushed. Seventeen long hours later, I was mentally drained and told them the story they clearly wanted to hear.

By the end of this ordeal, I had technically “confessed” to the crime. It didn’t matter that the “confession” I provided contained many inaccuracies. It didn’t matter that the information that I provided to the police -- thinking at the time that it would end the traumatic interrogation process – didn’t line up with many of the details of the crime.

They had their man, although I hardly felt like one. I was only eighteen years old!

I was carted off to jail. I was scared for my life. Every day was a living hell. I was told when to use the phone, when to shower, when to recreate. I was under constant watch. Often I was pulled from my freezing cold cell in handcuffs, wearing only boxer shorts so that they could conduct cell searches. I was forced to watch, defenseless, as Corrections Officers went through my belongings, pouring out the contents of bottles, ripping up family photos, destroying objects that sustained me during those endless years. During lockdowns, which could last months, we were forced to take “bird baths” in the cell sink because we were not allowed out of our cells.

But I knew I was innocent and that I would be vindicated at trial. I knew that my lawyer would be able to explain why I provided a false confession.

Then I learned that the prosecution was planning to use the testimony of Cornelius Lee, a jailhouse informant, at trial. Lee and I had passed two handwritten notes while in jail. Lee took those notes, erased the questions and re-wrote them so that I appeared to incriminate myself. Once I learned the prosecution planned to use the testimony of a liar, a man who was hoping to get better treatment at my expense, I was crushed and demoralized.

Comments

Posted by: Natasha Minsker at September 20, 2007 04:58 PM

Posted by: Morris1 at September 22, 2007 03:02 PM

Posted by: YapYap at September 24, 2007 04:30 AM

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