In a fea­ture arti­cle in Politico, Lara Bazelon, an asso­ciate pro­fes­sor at the University of San Francisco School of Law and author of the new book, Rectify: The Power of Restorative Justice After Wrongful Conviction, describes an exon­er­a­tion as an earth­quake [that] leaves upheaval and ruin in its wake.” Exonerees, she writes, suf­fer hor­ri­bly — both phys­i­cal­ly and men­tal­ly — in prison” and are revic­tim­ized fol­low­ing their release, leav[ing] prison with no ready access to ser­vices or a sup­port sys­tem that can help them re-accli­mate to soci­ety.” But wrong­ful con­vic­tions that lead to exon­er­a­tions have oth­er, often for­got­ten” vic­tims, too: the fam­i­ly mem­bers of the crime vic­tim. Victims’ fam­i­ly mem­bers, Bazelon writes, are forced to relive the worst expe­ri­ence of their lives with the knowl­edge that the actu­al per­pe­tra­tor was nev­er caught, or caught far too late, after vic­tim­iz­ing more people.”

Bazelon’s arti­cle high­lights the expe­ri­ence of these fam­i­ly mem­bers, telling the sto­ry of Christy Sheppard (pic­tured), whose cousin, Debbie Lee Carter, was mur­dered in Oklahoma when Christy was eight years old. Ron Williamson and Dennis Fritz were con­vict­ed of the mur­der; Williamson was sen­tenced to death and Fritz to life with­out parole. Eleven years lat­er, when Williamson and Fritz were exon­er­at­ed, it shook Sheppard and her fam­i­ly. The tremors from that wrong­ful con­vic­tion trans­formed the family’s per­cep­tion of the crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tem and turned Sheppard into an advo­cate for crim­i­nal jus­tice reform. In 2013, Sheppard par­tic­i­pat­ed in a pan­el dis­cus­sion at the annu­al con­fer­ence of the Innocence Project. There, she appeared with Jennifer Thompson, a rape sur­vivor who had misiden­ti­fied her rapist, then lat­er co-authored a book with the man who had been wrong­ful­ly con­vict­ed of her attack. Sheppard said that Thompson voiced the same sense of re-vic­tim­iza­tion and not being includ­ed” that she and her fam­i­ly had felt. After the con­fer­ence, Sheppard came to view the expe­ri­ences of exonerees and crime vic­tims as com­plete­ly dif­fer­ent but also the same. …We have all been lied to, mis­treat­ed, and not counted.”

Sheppard lat­er wrote an op-ed about the inno­cence claims of anoth­er Oklahoma death-row pris­on­er, Richard Glossip. “[The vic­tim] and his fam­i­ly deserve jus­tice,” she wrote, but jus­tice won’t be served if Glossip is put to death and we find out too late that he is inno­cent of this crime.” She was one of eleven mem­bers of the Oklahoma Death Penalty Review Commission, and the only mem­ber who was nei­ther a lawyer nor a politi­cian. As a mem­ber of the com­mis­sion, she sought to chal­lenge the idea that the death penal­ty was the only way for her fam­i­ly to be giv­en jus­tice. She has since spo­ken about her expe­ri­ences on local and nation­al media, tes­ti­fied before the Ohio Senate in sup­port of a bill to ban the exe­cu­tion of peo­ple with men­tal ill­ness, and cam­paigned for death penal­ty repeal in Nebraska. I know these cas­es are not about the truth,” Sheppard told Bazelon. It is pol­i­tics; it is a game where peo­ple are moved around and played. It is not fair and it is not balanced.”

(Lara Bazelon, This Is What Wrongful Conviction Does to a Family, Politico, November 11, 2018.) See Innocence and Victims.

Citation Guide