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Kerry Max Cook and "The Trouble with Innocence"

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WedgeX

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A fantastic, long-form essay courtesy Texas Monthly. Worth reading the whole thing.

Texas Monthly said:
The day should have been the happiest of Cook’s life. But instead Cook seemed preoccupied, not quite present. Something was bothering him, and two days later, he wrote an email to his lawyers and several journalists to explain: he could not accept the praise that Udashen had heaped that day upon Bingham and, by extension, Bingham’s predecessors, who had sought his misery and death for so long. He was firing his lawyers, he declared. Then he posted the email on Facebook and followed it with a series of rants accusing his lawyers of collaborating with the enemy. His words grew more and more hysterical, until finally, Cook announced that he needed a new attorney, one who would help him withdraw the agreement and “restore me with a wrongful murder conviction.”

Even his closest supporters thought he was crazy. “I’m frankly devastated by this recent development,” wrote a blogger on a sympathetic criminal justice site. Around the country, observers scratched their heads, as did other exonerees, many of whom had also worked with Udashen and Morrison. What kind of person would fire two of the best lawyers in the country—and then ask to be given back his wrongful conviction? Who would sabotage an exoneration forged after 39 years of heartbreaking struggle?

Kerry Max Cook would. And he has his reasons.

...

Exonerations are deeply compelling. When someone we thought guilty is found to be, in fact, innocent, we seek for ways to make things right—with admiring headlines, with soul-searching articles, with compensation. In this rush to make amends, there is also an expectation. Though we can barely fathom the suffering of someone who has endured such injustice, we look to find in him signs of resilience and magnanimity, of the strength of the human spirit. We want exonerees to be like the Tim Robbins character in The Shawshank Redemption: a model of righteousness, an exemplary man whose calm demeanor and determination underscores just how badly he was wronged, and how right it is for him to go free.

The reality, of course, is much darker. An exoneree has brutal memories to recover from, both physical and psychological, and faces the devastating burden of making sense of his lost years, his ruined relationships, his powerlessness, and his anger. There are a few who are able to navigate this challenge, whose names we remember as a result. Michael Morton spent 25 years in prison, yet in public he speaks of forgiveness for his tormentors. Anthony Graves languished behind bars for almost two decades, yet he spent a portion of his compensation money to set up the Anthony Graves Foundation, which looks into innocence claims from other inmates. Both men were able not only to accept the terms of their release but also to control their demons.

...

So why continue to prosecute, even as the passing years shed ever more doubt on the available evidence? The answer may have as much to do with the high stakes of the case—Edwards’s murder was the most brutal in Tyler’s history—as the particular character of Smith County. “The more horrific the crime, the greater the need to punish somebody,” a former prosecutor in Dallas and Tarrant counties, Terri Moore, told me. “Once you’ve gone down the road and tried and tried and tried the man, it’s hard to say, ‘We had the wrong man all along.’ ” In Nugent’s eyes, Cook was doomed from the start. “Most wrongful conviction cases come when the authorities choose a defendant and then start investigating the facts, instead of investigating the facts and seeing where they lead you,” he said. “Once Kerry was arrested, the die was cast.”

And because of Tyler’s tight-knit legal community, in which many of the players have a connection to Cook’s case, there are few lawyers without a vested interest in its outcome. “That courthouse is one big family,” noted McCloskey, who has been traveling to Tyler for 26 years now. “They live to protect each other and their reputations and standing in the community. It’s important to maintain the reputation of the DA’s office and not impugn one’s forebears.”

...

“It wasn’t about revenge,” he said. “It was about justice and accountability. I kept telling them, ‘Stop talking to Matt Bingham, I don’t want the deal!’ What I went through, the lawyers didn’t even see that.” He took a breath and, in graphic detail, launched into a description of the sexual abuse he had suffered on death row.

Texas Monthly continues to be one of the most important journalistic sources for exploring the flaws in the American criminal justice system.
 
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