Ballistics lab results questioned in 3 cases
A trio of death sentences could rest on faulty results from police analysts
By STEVE MCVICKER
Copyright 2005 Houston Chronicle
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Is Harris County 'bloodthirsty' - or dead right? Harris officials admit blunders in '92 case but say man, then 17, guilty
By DOUG J. SWANSON / The Dallas Morning News
The chief witness against him lied. The crime lab botched his case. At leastthree jurors say that if they had it to do over again, they probably wouldnot send Nanon Williams to death row.
But that is where he remains, nine years after his conviction in Houston for capital murder.
"The state of Texas," he said, "would rather kill me than have someone admithe made a mistake."
"I'm very comfortable the right person is on death row," said Vic Wisner, afelony chief for the Harris County district attorney's office.
Mr. Williams was 17 when he was arrested on a murder charge. Wednesday, theU.S. Supreme Court will hear arguments on the constitutionality of the deathpenalty for crimes committed under the age of 18. The fates of 73 death rowinmates &endash; 29 of them from Texas &endash; hang in the balance.
Appellate lawyers for Mr. Williams say age is only one issue in his case.They contend that authorities perpetuated a series of blunders and usedblatantly false testimony to put him on track for lethal injection.
"This is one of those that could potentially be a wrongful execution," saidballistics expert Ronald Singer.
To understand how Mr. Williams got to the Polunsky Unit prison inLivingston, lawyers say, it's important to note where he started: HarrisCounty, which sends more juvenile offenders to death row than any otherTexas county.
"We're bloodthirsty here," said George McCall Secrest Jr., a former Harrisprosecutor who now does criminal defense. "The politicians have found thisis a horse they can ride all the way to the polls."
Not so, said District Attorney Charles Rosenthal.
"We don't have disproportionate numbers" of underage killers on death row,he said. "There's no particular reason, other than we have a lot of peoplein Harris County."
With 3.6 million residents, Harris County has 11 juvenile offenders underdeath sentence. Dallas, Tarrant, Travis and Bexar counties have a combinedpopulation of more than 6 million. Together, they have six juvenilemurderers on death row.
Less than one-fourth of the state's murders take place in Harris County, butit accounts for 36 percent of all inmates under death sentence in Texas. Itsshare rises slightly, to 38 percent, for 17-year-old killers.
Felony chief Wisner said that each case is carefully assessed and that onlythose who clearly merit capital punishment are prosecuted as such.
"Age is something we take into account," he said. "If there's a 17-year-oldwho is naive, who was led into crime by an older influence, if there's an IQproblem, we consider that."
Defense lawyer Secrest has a different view.
"It's a cowboy mentality," he said. "The district attorney's office knows inall probability they can find a jury that will execute an offender, even ifhe's a child."
Now 30, Mr. Williams was a drug dealer who went into the family business asa teenager. "I grew up in one of the largest drug-dealing families on theWest Coast," he said.
His mother spent much of his childhood in prison for dealing heroin andcocaine. When he was 11, his father was killed in a turf war shoot-out.
"I started selling drugs because I saw myself trying to fill the shoes of myfather, trying to help out around the house," he said. "One thing led toanother."
Police in California say Mr. Williams participated in many burglaries and atleast one home invasion in which he held a couple at gunpoint. OneCalifornia officer, according to court filings, described him as"intelligent, articulate, violent and dangerous."
In May 1992, he was in Houston visiting family when he became involved inanother drug deal.
This much is certain: Four men, including Mr. Williams, met in Hermann Parkfor a cocaine transaction. Minutes later, one of the men, Adonius Collier,was shot to death.
Beyond that, the case is a tangle of contradictions and confusion, thanks inlarge part to the testimony of a man named Vaal Guevara.
At Mr. Williams' trial, Mr. Guevara testified that he and Mr. Williamsplanned to purchase the cocaine from Mr. Collier and another man.
Mr. Guevara said he carried a .22-caliber pistol. Prosecutors said Mr.Williams had a .25-caliber handgun and a shotgun concealed under his jacket.
As the drug deal unfolded, Mr. Guevara said, "shots were being rung." Hetestified that he looked over to see Mr. Williams standing over the pronebody of Mr. Collier, pointing his shotgun at Mr. Collier's head.
Based on Mr. Guevara's testimony and lab findings, prosecutors said Mr.Williams shot Mr. Collier in the face with his .25-caliber handgun and hisshotgun. A Houston crime lab expert testified that a .25-caliber bullet wasrecovered from Mr. Collier's skull cavity.
The jury convicted Mr. Williams of capital murder. Mr. Guevara was allowedto plead guilty to a lesser drug charge in exchange for his testimony.
Only on appeal did it emerge that much of what was said at the trial wassimply not true.
Most important, tests showed that the slug in Mr. Collier's head was not a.25 caliber. It was a .22, and it came from Mr. Guevara's gun.
The mistake occurred because the Houston crime lab technician originally didnot test the slug and used only a visual examination to identify it,wrongly, as a .25 caliber.
This was an inexplicable error, said Mr. Singer, a ballistics expert andsupervisor of the Tarrant County crime lab. He examined the evidence for thedefense on appeal.
"Of course I made the distinction right away," he said of the slug. "If youput a .22 and a .25 side by side and you give it to somebody who's neverlooked at firearms before, I guess you could make that mistake. But atrained firearms examiner? I find that inconceivable."
Robert Baldwin, who made the false identification for the Houston crime laband who still works there, declined to comment on the case.
Mr. Baldwin was involved in another controversial juvenile offender deathcase, that of Johnnie Bernal in 1994. In that one, Mr. Baldwin had to fire ahandgun 25 times and clean the barrel with a solvent before matching it to amurder. Independent experts have said such methods are inappropriate.
Mr. Bernal was convicted of capital murder and is on death row.
Last month, Houston Police Chief Harold Hurtt said executions of inmatesconvicted with findings from the crime lab should not proceed until theevidence can be re-examined. And state Sen. John Whitmire, D-Houston, thismonth called for a moratorium on all executions from Harris County until labmaterial can be reviewed.
The lab's DNA section has been closed since 2002, when audits revealedproblems with testing, documentation and contamination.
With the lab findings in Mr. Williams' case clearly wrong, prosecutors nowadmit that Mr. Guevara, who was their star witness against Mr. Williams, waslying.
In 1999, Mr. Guevara came up for parole. Prosecutor Wisner wrote the paroleboard urging that he not be released from prison. "At trial," Mr. Wisnerwrote, referring to the Williams case, "Guevara was very evasive andapparently not at all truthful."
He added that Mr. Guevara "likely participated in Collier's murder."
Efforts to reach Mr. Guevara for comment were unsuccessful. His lawyer,Dennis Spurling, said Mr. Guevara, who was paroled, has moved to "one ofthose states around Missouri."
In an affidavit, juror Colette Cox said that if she had known the bulletcame from Mr. Guevara's gun, she would have voted to acquit Mr. Williams.Juror Dianna Kay Lindsey said the new ballistics information "may havechanged our verdict."
And juror Otis Ray Nash signed an affidavit that said if the new evidencehad been presented at trial, "I probably would have leaned the other way."
In 2001, after an evidentiary appeals hearing, state District Judge JoanCampbell said she believed Mr. Williams deserved a new trial. The newballistics evidence, the judge concluded, "makes it probable the punishmentwould be different on retrial."
But the Texas Criminal Court of Appeals, while providing minimalexplanation, did not agree. Mr. Williams' appeal is now before a federalcourt in Houston.
Mr. Wisner said in a recent interview that the new ballistics evidence, andthe disclosure that Mr. Guevara lied, should make no difference.
"I don't think there's any dispute over what he did," the prosecutor said ofMr. Williams. "He held a gun to the complainant and just blew his headapart."
Mr. Williams was forbidden by his lawyers from talking about what happenedin the park, but he denied killing Mr. Collier.
"I didn't shoot him, and I didn't know anyone was killed," Mr. Williamssaid. "I was willing to face the punishment of what I thought I did. Ididn't think I would be convicted of capital murder."
The prosecution's position now is that even if Mr. Williams did not fire ahandgun at Mr. Collier, he shot him with the shotgun.
Investigators have never been able to determine which shot actually killedMr. Collier &endash; the one from the handgun or that from the shotgun.
The shotgun has never been recovered. Prosecutor Wisner pointed to thetestimony of another witness, Patrick Smith. Mr. Smith said during anappeals hearing that he saw Mr. Williams carry a shotgun into the park andsaw him standing over Mr. Collier, pointing the shotgun at him.
But defense lawyers say Mr. Smith, who was good friends with Mr. Guevara,could not possibly have seen the shooting from where he was sitting. Theyalso point out that he was, at the time of his testimony, underinvestigation for criminal fraud.
"It sure looks like a cover-up of somebody else's deeds with that shotgun,"said Walter Long, appellate lawyer for Mr. Williams.
After 12 years behind bars, Mr. Williams retains some hope that he willultimately get another chance. "How can I not get a new trial?" he said.
Mr. Williams has written and self-published three books while in prison, oneof them an autobiography. "My first book was written on toilet paper," hesaid.
He also writes and publishes, with the help of friends on the outside, aprison newsletter called The Williams Report.
The Supreme Court is expected to rule next spring on capital punishment forjuvenile offenders. If it decides the juvenile death penalty isunconstitutional, those on death row could find their sentences commuted tolife.
For most of them, that would mean serving 40 years before being eligible forparole.
"What do I expect? Nothing," Mr. Williams said. "I'll just be going toanother cage.
"To sit up there for the next 35 years and wait for parole? For something Ididn't do? I can't do that. I'd rather they kill me than send me to prisonfor the rest of my life."
The Harris district attorney's office isn't adjusting its attitudes for theSupreme Court, either. In August, with the high court action pending,prosecutors brought a capital case against Robert Acuna of Baytown.
Mr. Acuna was sentenced to death for killing two elderly neighbors when hewas 17.
"We just do what the law tells us to do," said Mr. Rosenthal, the districtattorney. "We don't speculate on what the Supreme Court is going to do."
Töten oder nicht töten: Die Jugendlichendebatte
(Nanon Williams)
Jede Sekunde, jede Minute, jede Stunde unseres täglichen Lebens ist einKampf. Während einige Länder um Nahrung kämpfen, gegen tödliche Krankheitenund darum Obdach zu bieten und die Unabhängigkeit vor imperialistischer Gierzu erreichen oder einfach nur darum, als Menschen und Nation frei zu sein,kämpft Amerika für die Moral. Wenn man die Welt dominiert und dieSchatzkiste übervoll ist, wird dann der Kampf für die Moral ein Luxus? Wirnähern uns dem Oktober und das Oberste Gericht der Vereinigten Staaten wirdden Fall von Chris Simmons anhören, der das Schicksal vonTodestraktjugendlichen im ganzen Land bestimmen wird.
Töten oder nicht töten, das ist die Frage. Verschonen wir die Leben unsererKinder, die furchtbare Taten begangen haben, oder werden wir im Namen derGerechtigkeit staatlich sanktionierte Tötungen als Abschreckung vor Tötungenerlauben? Statistiken und Untersuchungen zeigen, dass die Todesstrafe keineVerbrechen verhindert. Tatsächlich ist die Verbrechensrate in bestimmtenTeilen des Landes, in denen die Todesstrafe weit verbreitet ist, gestiegen.
Ich könnte behaupten, dass meine Worte glaubwürdig sind, da ich einst alsKind vom Staat Texas zum Tode verurteilt wurde. Ich könnte Punkte aufzählen,die die Menschen mit Sicherheit anhalten und nachdenken ließen, docheigentlich sehe ich nur ein kleines Fenster in die Welt. Es ist für jedenschwer, ein Fenster in diese Welt zu sehen, in der ich lebe. Diese Welt wirddurch Chaos, Irrsinn, Destruktion und Tod regiert.
Die meisten sehen auf ihrer komfortablen Couch eine kleine Version imFernsehen, während andere die verwässerte Version einer Zeitung lesen.
Doch wenige Amerikaner haben es persönlich erfahren. Seit dreizehn Jahrenkenne ich nichts anderes. Das ist es, was ich beinahe die Hälfte meinesLebens geatmet und gelebt habe. Manchmal fühle ich mich, als ob ich aufeinem großen Friedhof leben und darauf warten würde, hinunter in einen Sarggeworfen zu werden. Es sind diese Gedanken, mit denen ich ausweiche.Irgendjemand über den Moder im Todestrakt zu erzählen, würde sich lesen wieein Horrorroman.
Eine Gemeinsamkeit mit jedem Menschen ist die Tatsache, dass wir einst alleKinder waren und Dinge taten, die Kinder tun. Wir wurden Jugendliche, dieRisiken eingingen, weil es eine coole Sache war und wir dachten erst späterüber die Ergebnisse nach. Wir waren impulsiv und der Druck Gleichaltrigernahm die Rolle unserer sich entwickelten Sinne ein.
Wir waren Teeanger, denen es bis nach der Tatsache an moralischerVerantwortung fehlte und die dann so schnell "Es tut mir leid," sagten, wiediese Worte sich in ihrem Gehirn formen konnten. Wie viele Kids haben etwasgetan, für das sie sich dermaßen schämten, dass sie es niemals jemandemerzählten, selbst als sie Erwachsene wurden? Welche Handlungen Kinderbegehen, ob sie gut sind, schlecht oder indifferent, sie ändern nichts ander Tatsache, dass diese Handlungen von der Denkweise eines Kindes gesteuertwurden.
Professoren, Bezirksstaatsanwälte, Richter oder verschiedene Organisationenkönnten diesen Artikel kritisieren, doch ich habe nur wenig offizielleBildung. Im Alter von 17 Jahren hatte ich keine Chance, die Highschoolabzuschließen oder meine Träume zu erfüllen, aufs College zu gehen undletztendlich professioneller Footballspieler zu werden.
Stattdessen ende ich im Staatsgefängnis. Ich erhielt ein authentischesZertifikat der Hölle und des Todes. Glaubwürdigkeit? Ich habe keine. In denAugen der Gesellschaft bin ich kriminell. Ich schreibe nicht als Versuch,mein Leben als unschuldiges Kind, das zum Tode verurteilt wurde, zu retten.Ich strebe nach etwas ganz anderem. Ich kämpfe um mein Recht frei zu seinund nicht den Rest meines Lebens in einem Käfig zu verrotten. Ich strebenach Gerechtigkeit, doch was ist das? Ist sie die systematische Tötung vonMenschen?
Als ich in den Todestrakt kam, war ich zu Tode erschrocken. Nach dem Gesetzwar ich nicht alt genug um zu wählen, meine Schulanwesenheitskarte zuunterschreiben oder ohne die Anwesenheit eines gesetzlichen Begleitersbestimmte Filme zu sehen. Ich war jedoch alt genug, um vom Staat Texasgetötet zu werden. Der Gedanke im Todestrakt zu sein traf mich erst, als ichdort eintraf. Als ich den ersten Fuß in das Todescamp setzte, wurde mirklar, dass jeder Tag bis zum meinem letzten Atemzug ein Tag wäre, an dem ichmitten unter mehr als 400 zum Tode verurteilten Männern aufwachen würde. Siealle sind bis auf wenige Ausnahmen erwachsene Männer. Ich verbündete michmit den Jugendlichen.
Wir versuchten, unsere Furcht auszuschalten, indem wir uns mit Tätowierungenbedeckten, die uns wie Sträflinge aussehen ließen. Wir schwiegen, wenn wirzuhörten, wie die Männer über ihre Kinder, Häuser, Ehefrauen und Dingesprachen, die sie in der freien Welt getan und gehabt haben. Wir taten, alsob wir hart wären, weil wir keine Beziehungen aufbauen konnten. Niemandwollte hören, wie wir über die Highschool, Mädchen in unserem Alter undGeschwisterstreitigkeiten sprachen. Wir waren Kinder, denen es anGemeinsamkeiten mit den anderen als Kriminellen gebrandmarkten fehlte. Eswar, als ob man einen Knaben in einen Käfig voller hungriger Löwen werfenwürde. Wir konnten nicht auf den Schoss von Mutter und Vater klettern, umHilfe zu erhalten.
Während der Jahre wurden viele der Kids brutal vergewaltigt, manche begingenSelbstmord, schlossen sich zum Schutz Gangs an, wurden Prostituierte undmanche kämpften zurück. Ich kämpfte und dank meiner Anstrengungen habe ichNarben, die wie auf einer Landkarte meinen Körper herunter laufen. JedesMal, wenn ich mich wehrte, wurde ich bestraft.
Ich habe niemals gewonnen und es gab niemals einen Gewinn daraus. Ich lebteeinen weiteren Tag. Wie so viele andere Kinder wuchsen einige zu Männernheran, nur um dann hingerichtet zu werden. Die Gesellschaft hatte ihreGerechtigkeit.
Ich beobachtete, wie einige dieser Kids Jahre brauchten, um der Realitätendlich ins Gesicht zu sehen und letztendlich erwachsen zu werden. DieWahrheit ist, dass einige der besten Männer, die ich jemals kennen gelernthabe, einst Kids im Todestrakt waren. Ich denke an Napoleon Beazley. Icherinnere mich daran, dass er ständig las und alleine war.
Er war immer mit sich selbst alleine und hatte oft Angst. Ich beobachteteeinen Knaben, der zu einem Mann heranwuchs, der Gott liebte, immer positive,ermunternde Worte für seine Mitgefangenen hatte und selbst dann lächelnkonnte, wenn es keinen Grund dafür gab. Falls es jemals ein Beispiel füreinen Modellgefangenen gab, dann war er es. Ich denke an Emerson Rudd, dererst 18 Jahre alt war, als er in den Todestrakt kam. Er war jung undaufsässig und wir wehrten uns gegen die Brutalität und Ungerechtigkeiten,die uns angetan wurden. Wir versprachen uns, auf jede Weise gegen diesesbrutale System zu kämpfen, selbst wenn das bedeuten würde, dass wirkörperliche Leiden erdulden mussten. Wir wuchsen beide heran. Wir laseneinander vor und fanden in Geschichtsbüchern Personen, die unsere Quelle fürInspiration und Stärke waren. Emerson wurde zu einem Anführer unter denMännern. Er starb mit der Erkenntnis, dass es mehr Kämpfe in der Welt gibt,als seinen eigenen. Ich denke an Gary Graham. Als ich in den Todestrakt kam,nannte er sich bereits Shaka Sankofa, ein selbstgewählter afrikanischerName, der "kämpft zurück" bedeutet. Das Kind in ihm war genau das, ein Kind.
Doch das Kind wuchs zu einem Mann heran, der eine bewusste, aktiveSymbolfigur wurde und erkannte, dass Rassismus und Ungerechtigkeit lebendigwaren und in unserem System eingebettet waren. Er bot uns Hoffnung an. DieHoffnung, dass sein Leben kein verschwendetes Opfer sei. Warum ich denAusdruck Opfer verwende? Ich verwende ihn, weil er zu einem politischenGefangenen wurde. Er erkannte die politische Natur seiner Inhaftierung undwurde zu einer Stimme. Eine Stimme, die zur Herausforderung der Mächtigenwurde. Das hat ihn wahrscheinlich mehr als alles andere getötet. Sie alle,Napoleon, Emerson und Shaka waren Kids, die sich geändert haben. Wenn sichKinder nicht verändern, wer dann? Ich könnte so viele nennen, genauso wiejeder der das hier liest. Wer kann sich nicht an ein Kind aus derNachbarschaft erinnern, das für das Gefängnis bestimmt schien, sich danachjedoch änderte und Seelsorger, Lehrer, Anwalt, Arzt oder Geschäftsführereiner großen Firma wurde?
Was mich dazu inspiriert hat, einige meiner Bücher zu schreiben, warJeffersons Würde von Ernest J. Gaines. Obwohl es um einen Knaben geht, derzum Tode verurteilt wurde, fängt das Buch nicht den Todestrakt ein, wie erheute existiert. In dem Buch vergleichen sein Anwalt und die Geschworenenden Knaben mit einem Schwein, also mit einem Tier. Ich kenne das Gefühl auserster Hand. Mein Ankläger sagte kein einziges Wort zu mir. Er hat niemalsmeine Stimme gehört, doch im Gerichtssaal wies er auf mich und sagte: "Erist ein Täter. Er ist böse. Er ist schlicht und ergreifend böse." Dem Knabenin dem Buch wurde gesagt, dass er ein Tier ist und es wurde entschieden,dass er wie eines handeln würde. Sie sagten, dass er ein Schwein sei, alsoklang er manchmal wie eines, aß wie eines und tat, als ob er eines wäre.Wenn Kids auf eine bestimmte Weise behandelt werden, gleichen sie sich ihrerUmgebung an. Ein Teil den ich niemals vergessen werde ist, als der Autorschreibt: "Weißt du was ein Held ist? Ein Held ist jemand, der etwas fürandere Menschen tut. Er tut etwas, was andere Menschen nicht tun oder nichttun können."
Ich dachte über diese Aussage nach. Ich könnte niemals ein Held sein.
Ich wurde als etwas beurteilt, was ich nicht bin, ein Mörder. Gaines
schreibt: "Die da draußen sind nicht besser als du. Sie sind schlimmer.
Deshalb suchen sie immer nach einem Sündenbock, jemand den sie beschuldigenkönnen. Ich möchte, dass du ihnen den Unterschied zwischen dem zeigst, wassie von dir denken und dem, was sein kann. Für die bist du nichts als einNigger, keine Würde, kein Herz, keine Liebe für deine Leute. Du kannstbeweisen, dass sie sich irren." Diese Aussage brachte Tränen in meine Augen,weil ich der kleine Knabe in dem Buch war. Ich lebte das Leben diesesRomans, doch meine Realität war viel, viel schlimmer als das Buch. Ichakzeptierte die Herausforderung zu beweisen, dass das System falsch liegt,dass ich kein Tier war. Ich würde beweisen, dass ich nicht immer das Kindwar, das sie beurteilt haben, sondern dass ich ein Mann werden würde, dersich mit starkem Charakter gegen das Urteil auflehnt. Kids können das tunund Menschen können das tun, doch der Tod vernichtet diese Änderungen.
Ich hatte gar nicht vor, dies zu einem persönlichen Statement werden zulassen und könnte gegen die Tötungen an und für sich argumentieren. Ich sehedie Jugendlichendebatte als Versuch einer politischen Vertuschung, um dasamerikanische Image in den Augen der internationalen Gemeinschaft zureparieren. Ich hoffe, dass die Leben der Jugendlichen im Todestraktverschont werden, doch das wird die Probleme nicht lösen, die bezüglich derTodesstrafe existieren. Mittellose, soziale Randgruppen und Minderheitenwerden noch immer in alarmierender Zahl den Hinrichtungskammern ausgesetzt.Traurigerweise war die Mehrheit der in Texas hingerichteten JugendlichenMinderheiten. Die Medien nutzen meist jede Chance um zu rechtfertigen, warumAmerika mit der Tötungsmaschinerie weitermachen soll. Vor einigen Wochenstach ein mit Handschellen gefesselter Gefangener einem Wärter in die Näheder Kehle.
Die lokale Zeitung berichtete, dass 13 Mal auf ihn eingestochen wurde, umdie Tat übertrieben darzustellen. Es wurde nicht 13 Mal auf ihneingestochen. Das war aufgrund der Handschellen nicht möglich. Der Wärterwurde nicht schwer verletzt und die Öffentlichkeit wird niemals erfahren,dass dieser Gefängniswärter dafür bekannt ist, Vorfälle zu provozieren undGefangene zu misshandeln. Ein Gefangener schnappte zu, doch die Medienvergrößerten die Angst in der Gemeinde und die generelle Ansicht, dassGefangene im Todestrakt anscheinend herumgehen und zahllose Male auf Wärtereinstechen, was es leichter macht, dass andere hingerichtet werden, ohnedass sich irgendjemand darum kümmert.
Da wir uns dem Oktober nähern möchte ich die Menschen dazu aufrufen, nichtnur die Tötung von Kindern zu diskutieren, sondern die Todesstrafe selbst.Eine kleine Untersuchung geht einen langen Weg. Mann kann uns Moral nichteinfach geben. Wir lernen sie, indem wir keine Angst davor haben Fakten zulernen, Sympathie auszudrücken und Verständnis zu haben.
Andererseits gewinnt die Rache. Die Rache kriminalisiert uns alle, wenn wirsystematisch töten. Die Jugendlichendebatte ist ein notwendiger Schritt,doch mehr muss geschehen. Was lernen wir daraus, wenn wir ein Problemeinfach eliminieren, anstatt dass wir uns damit beschäftigen.
Wenn wir systematisch töten, wer ist verantwortlich? War es für unseinfacher, den Irak anzugreifen, nachdem wir selbst Angehörige verlorenhaben und es uns persönlich betroffen hat? Können wir etwas unterstützen,ohne dass wir uns genauer mit uns selbst beschäftigen? Der Journalismusscheint das zu tun, was sicher und populär ist, nicht was wahr ist. Zuwelchem Zeitpunkt übernehmen wir als Gesellschaft die Verantwortung für denPfad, auf dem wir uns bewegen?
Ich werde als Mörder gebrandmarkt. Ich bin kein Mörder, doch ich muss michmit dieser Gesellschaft auseinander setzen. Die Todesstrafe ist nur einBeispiel, doch wir können nicht einfach weggehen. Leben werden in unseremNamen genommen, ob wir es akzeptieren oder nicht. Blut ist auf unserenHänden, sogar das Blut amerikanischer Kinder. Was wenn das Kind Euer Sohnoder Eure Tochter wäre? Was wenn das Kind unschuldig war? Was wenn das Kinddem Druck Gleichaltriger folgte? Vielleicht hatte es nur Angst davor nein zusagen. Das geschieht und ist geschehen.
Die Jugendlichendebatte ist nur eines von vielen Themen, die unsere Moralals Amerikaner bemüht, jedoch unsere Menschlichkeit als Menschenherausfordert. Wenn Ihr Organisationen beitreten, Petitionen unterzeichnen,Briefe schreiben oder Euch mit Gefangenen anfreunden könnt, bitte tut es.Wir alle müssen irgendwo beginnen. Ich begann damit, mich selbst in diesemGefängnis innerhalb eines Gefängnisses herauszufordern.
June 13, 2003, 9:47AM
Police chief shakes up crime lab
2 officials quit, others disciplined
By ROMA KHANNA and STEVE McVICKER
Copyright 2003 Houston Chronicle
Houston Police Chief C.O. Bradford cleaned house at the department's crime lab Thursday, recommending two top officials be fired and seven others disciplined, holding them responsible for problems that have raised questions about the evidence used to win hundreds of convictions.
Assistant Chief Milton C. Simmons and DNA division supervisor James Bolding resigned Wednesday rather than be fired. The director of the crime lab retired in February after the exposure of widespread problems there, but Bradford also recommended he be fired.
Simmons and Bolding could not be reached for comment Thursday.
The head of the crime lab's ballistics division, which has also faced questions about the quality and accuracy of its work, was suspended along with five other analysts in the DNA division.
Bradford described the disciplinary action as "very difficult but necessary to bring accountability" to the crime lab, where DNA testing was suspended after an audit uncovered shoddy science, an undertrained staff and conditions ripe for contamination.
Meanwhile, a union spokesman said the house cleaning did not go far enough.
"The punishment should have gone all the way to the top," said Hans Marticiuc, noting that some of Bradford's reasons for the discipline also apply to the chief himself.
Bradford recommended Simmons be fired because of, among other things, his "failure to act on several crime lab issues brought to his attention."
In March, Bradford told the Chronicle, through a spokesman, that he knew the roof over the crime lab leaked for more than five years, adding "there is always a concern about evidence contamination when you have a structural problem." Yet, for years, Bradford did nothing to permanently fix the roof.
Marticiuc also pointed to Bradford's role in the internal investigation that led to the punishment announced Thursday. The investigators asked Bradford a number of questions, which he answered in a letter that was reviewed by a lawyer, Marticuic said. The union spokesman called such participation "unprecedented."
Robert Hurst, a department spokesman, said the chief "was involved in the (internal) investigation" but refused to elaborate.
The recommended discipline cites violations ranging from failure to oversee the lab and follow accepted guidelines for forensic work to individual errors on cases, including capital murders. The discipline fell heaviest on the supervisors, who Bradford said set up improper procedures that their subordinates followed.
Among the cited employees and their violations:
The chairman of the state legislative committee that has been conducting its own investigation of the crime lab on Thursday praised Bradford's action.
"I'm very glad to see that after seven years, some action has been taken to correct the problems that are going on with the Houston Police Department crime lab," said state Rep. Kevin Bailey, D-Houston, referring to a 1996 audit of the lab that was supposed to address some of the problems.
"I hope that from here on out the Police Department works diligently to make corrections, hire the proper people, and get the crime lab back up and working and instill confidence in the citizens of Texas."
While the discipline marks the end of the department's major probe into problems at the lab, questions remain about its future, and other investigations continue.
Bradford said he has not decided whether he will reopen the DNA division of the crime lab. He is awaiting the final report from the National Forensic Science Technology Center that will outline what steps HPD must take to get its lab accredited for lab quality. HPD is the largest police department in the county without an accredited crime lab. The center is expected to complete its report in two months.
The Harris County District Attorney's Office also continues its review of more than 1,300 cases in which DNA was analyzed by the lab. Prosecutors have ordered the retesting of DNA in more than 200 cases. Retests have been completed in 22 cases, supporting initial findings in 18 and disagreeing or inconclusive in four.
Meanwhile, two Harris County grand juries are exploring whether criminal charges should be brought over the problems that began with the crime lab but have had far-reaching implications at all levels of the Harris County justice system.
Crowd Says: "Free Nanon From Death Row"
(source: Gloria Rubac, Workers World News Service)
14. August 2003
Bright purple helium-filled balloons floated over the cake and ice cream. A big "Lone Star State" piata swung from a tall oak tree. A multinational, multigenerational crowd was gathered in the park outside Houston City Hall on Aug. 2 to celebrate a dear friend's 29th birthday. They sang "Happy Birthday," proposed toasts and enjoyed the day.
The only person missing was the one having the birthday. He was still in a cell behind a solid steel door on Texas's death row.
Activist Njeri Shakur explained: "Nanon Williams was arrested when he was 17 years old. He hadn't gone to his high school prom yet, didn't get that football scholarship to college yet, and didn't even get his heart broken yet. He has been locked up for 12 years and has had his youth stolen by the racist state of Texas based on the racist, lying, incompetent Houston Police Department's crime lab ballistics expert, Robert Baldwin."
Williams and Johnnie Bernal, also just 17 years old when arrested, are both on death row based on incompetent firearms testing by Baldwin.
The crowd took turns reading paragraphs from a resolution presented this summer to the Houston City Council calling for Aug. 2 to be declared "Free Nanon Williams Day" and demanding his release from death row.
They sang and cut the large cake, whose icing read, "Free Nanon--Jail the HPD crime lab."
As children and the young at heart beat the red, white and blue piata, an activist with the Texas Death Penalty Abolition Movement encouraged them on a loudspeaker:
"This star-shaped piata represents the Lone Star State of Texas and we need to beat justice out of it. Hit it harder. Hit it until justice is released. Beat the hell out of it! Take that, HPD! Take that, D.A. John ny Holmes! Hit it again until we get justice."
The goodie bags of candies fell to the ground, the children squealed and the speaker boomed, "Now we are finally getting something good from the Lone Star State! We must now get the justice we deserve from Texas."
As uniformed police and plain-clothes red-squad cops patrolled the party, celebrants told radio and TV reporters about the Williams case and how it is connected to an ever-growing scandal around the Houston police crime lab. The lab was shut down last year after an independent audit confirmed shoddy police work and a leaking roof that may have contaminated evidence.
RE-TESTING LEADS TO OVERTURNED CONVICTIONS
The Houston Chronicle recently editorialized: "The real problem is that the lab has been run by and for the Houston Police Department without effective outside scrutiny. To the management and at least some members of the staff, obtaining criminal convictions seems to have been more important than maintaining the quality or integrity of scientific work.
"The DNA analysts, for example, made little effort to keep up with developments in their field and apparently were satisfied to use biased, outmoded procedures so long as those procedures produced results that made the police and prosecutors happy. Their work was marked by carelessness and overstatement rather than scientific rigor."
Josiah Sutton, a young African Amer ican from Houston who had been in prison for four years on a rape conviction, was released this year after re-examination of DNA proved his innocence. Evidence in hundreds and possibly thousands of cases will have to be re-tested.
In Nanon Williams's case, it was not until 1998 that the court, under pressure from his new legal team, allowed independent firearms' testing to be carried out. The test showed conclusively that a bullet taken from the victim's head was fired by the state's main witness and not by Williams.
The new evidence was so strong that in May 2001 the judge hearing the case agreed with Nanon's new attorneys and recommended to the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals that a new trial be held.
However, in April 2002 the CCA declined to accept the judge's recommendation and did not order a new trial, despite clear factual findings presented by the lower court judge.
Johnnie Bernal was also sentenced to death on the basis of Officer Baldwin's test-firing of a gun, which was alleged to have been in Bernal's possession. Baldwin fired it 25 times, cleaning the barrel with solvent about halfway through the pro cess. He then claimed that one of the 25 fired rounds, which he could not later identify, matched the bullet taken from the victim.
Numerous ballistics examiners have since decried such testing as not only lacking a scientific basis but as constituting negligent destruction of evidence. Bernal currently remains on death row.
JUSTICE STILL DELAYED
Baldwin is still the head of the ballistics division of the HPD crime lab. When the scandal broke, HPD Chief C.O. Bradford recommended disciplinary action against Baldwin. The result was a 7-day suspension. The disciplinary decision was based solely on Baldwin's failure to complete required inspections of equipment and paperwork.
Since the news broke on the problems with Houston's crime lab, the Nanon Williams Support Association and the Texas Death Penalty Abolition Move ment have held numerous demonstrations, press conferences and public events on this case. His case has been covered on Houston's Pacifica radio station, KPFT.
Many youth from oppressed communities are becoming involved. A group of African American youth from the Black out Arts Collective have done spoken word pieces at the demonstrations and on KPFT's "Fight Back!" show. Collective mem ber Brother Equality says of Wil liams's case, "We know what the criminal justice system is doing to our youth. We support freedom for Nanon."
Williams's murder conviction is now being appealed in Federal District Court in Houston. Attorney Morris Moon told the birthday crowd that "Many good things are happening in the case that cannot be discussed yet. By the first of the year, things should start happening," he said. Moon then took his 1st-ever hit at a piata, bringing down some candies. "Hope fully next year, Nanon will be here to celebrate with us," he said.
Williams was in his cell when KPFT aired a Free Speech Radio News broadcast of a 5-minute piece on his birthday party, complete with singing and hits to the piata. Other men on his wing also heard the news story and started singing "Happy Birthday" to him through the steel doors of their cages. The melody carried from cell to cell, back to Williams. He told WW that this was "probably the best birthday I have ever had and I wasn't even there. I heard everyone singing 'Happy Birthday' to me. I heard you and Lucha and Njeri and Joanne. I heard Luchita hitting the piata," he said. "Hearing the celebration brought tears to my eyes."
*By
ROMA KHANNA*
(23. März 2003)
*Copyright 2003 Houston Chronicle*
Two death row convictions secured with ballistics evidence processed by the Houston Police Department raise questions about the accuracy of the crime lab's firearms work and indicate that its problems extend beyond DNA testing.
In each of the two cases, a police ballistics examiner used methods that other experts say are unsound. In one case, the lab's initial ballistics findings were later retracted.
The cases add to the growing uncertainty about the reliability of the Police Department's lab. DNA testing there was discontinued after an independent audit discovered that sloppy science, untrained staff and a leaky roof were jeopardizing criminal cases.
"It is not just DNA," said Robert Rosenberg, a lawyer for one of the death row inmates. "In these cases we have (an examiner) who is not following any recognized set of standards, and he didn't have any problem taking the stand to get convictions. Why should we trust him or anyone else in the department who is reviewing his work?"
Harris County District Attorney Chuck Rosenthal has suggested that police review all work done by the DNA division. But Rosenthal said he sees no reason work outside the division, such as ballistics, needs retesting.
When the Houston Chronicle began to review these cases with Rosenthal, he said had no knowledge of them. He added, "As far as I know, there are no problems other than DNA."
But firearms examiners say the cases of Nanon Williams and Johnnie Bernal suggest otherwise.
Williams was convicted of a 1992 shooting death during a drug deal in Hermann Park after an HPD weapons examiner testified that the victim was shot in the head with a .25-caliber bullet -- the caliber of Williams' gun. Six years later, the same examiner said, upon review, it was clear that the bullet was in fact a .22-caliber from a co-defendant's gun that had never been tested.
Bernal was sentenced to death for a 1994 shooting outside a north Houston icehouse. The same HPD examiner testified that the fatal bullet came from a gun Bernal had when police arrested him.
The examiner testified that he shot the gun 25 times and used a solvent on the barrel before he got the match.
At least one ballistics expert says the problems with these cases are not limited to possible mistakes by one examiner.
"The bullets were examined by more than one examiner in that lab," said Ronald Singer, a firearms examiner who has reviewed Williams' case. "Assuming they all actually looked at the bullets and did not just sign off, then there is a serious problem."
Robert Baldwin, the weapons examiner in both cases, deferred to the Houston Police Department's spokesman for comments, Robert Hurst. Hurst did not comment except to say that none of the crime lab's staff is speaking with the media.
Richard Ernest, a private weapons examiner retained by Bernal's lawyer, questions Baldwin's work and conclusions.
"It took 25 bullets and cleaning the barrel to get a match, and I had some real reservations about that," Ernest said. "If you were able to match one of those 25 bullets, you would have been able to match others."
Matthew Clements, the head of Harris County's firearms lab, has not reviewed Bernal's case but said common procedure calls for an examiner to shoot a gun two or three times.
"If I had to fire a gun 10 times and did not get conclusive results, that would be it," he said. "Game over."
The Harris County district attorney's office is reviewing hundreds of convictions that may have included evidence processed at the HPD lab and has slated more than 40 cases for retesting of DNA evidence. Analysis has been completed in only one case -- that against Josiah Sutton, who was released from prison March 12 after new tests found he could not have committed a 1998 rape.
Williams makes no excuses for why he was in Hermann Park after midnight on May 14, 1992. He was there for a drug deal. He concedes that he shot his .25-caliber gun at one of the men during the transaction. But Williams maintains he did not fire a bullet into Adonius Collier's head.
Six years after the crime, and after a jury sentenced Williams to death, new ballistics tests ordered as part of his appeal confirm Williams' contention.
"I was no choirboy," Williams, who was 17 when he was arrested for Collier's slaying, said in a death row interview. "I was out there in the streets. But I never killed nobody."
Texas law allows prosecutors to bring capital murder charges against anyone participating in a felony that results in someone's death. Although prosecutors have argued that Williams' intention was robbery, he says he was there for the drug deal.
Williams and six others drove into Hermann Park that night. They parked near the golf course, and four people walked away from the cars.
Williams and friend Vaal Guevara were negotiating the exchange with Collier and his friend Emmade Rasul when gunfire erupted. Williams pulled out a .25-caliber semiautomatic pistol, and Guevara a .22 Magnum Derringer. At least four shots were fired, striking Rasul in the foot and the face and hitting Collier twice.
As Williams, Guevara and Rasul ran toward the cars, Collier lay dead in the park. A police officer found his body within an hour. An autopsy revealed he had been shot twice in the head, first with a handgun and then with a shotgun. The shotgun was not relevant to the ballistics evidence. Doctors recovered one bullet from Rasul's foot.
Williams, who had returned to California, and Guevara, who was picked up with his Derringer, were eventually arrested.
The accounts of what transpired in the park, as told by the three who were there and those who waited in the cars, are a tangle of conflicting stories. There is no agreement on how the shootout began, who shot whom or how many shots were fired.
Among the incompatible theories of what occurred that night was an apparent patch of clarity: the seemingly indisputable ballistics testimony.
Baldwin, the HPD firearms examiner, testified that the bullet recovered from Collier's head was .25 caliber. Williams admitted to carrying a .25-caliber gun that night. When the prosecutor asked Baldwin if there was "any way in this world" the bullet could have come from Guevara's .22-caliber Derringer, Baldwin said no.
Baldwin testified that the two bullets were easily distinguishable. He also told the jury the bullet from Collier matched the one from Rasul's foot, testifying that Collier's bullet was "extremely mutilated, but other than that, there is no difference."
Lorreta Muldrow, Williams' lawyer and a former Harris County prosecutor who had worked with Baldwin, never questioned his findings. She never requested money for an expert nor ordered independent testing. She assumed Baldwin would have test-fired the only weapon recovered from the crime, Guevara's Derringer.
The prosecutor, Vic Wisner, relied heavily on the authority of the ballistics evidence.
"All we have to do is prove (Williams) killed Adonius Collier with a firearm. A .25-caliber semiautomatic pistol is a firearm," he said in his closing argument. "Robert Baldwin, uncontradicted, told you ... absolutely, positively certain that they couldn't be fired out of the Derringer."
On the strength of Baldwin's conclusions, Williams was sentenced to death.
Six years after the shooting, the lawyer handling Williams' appeal discovered that Baldwin had never fired Guevara's Derringer, and he requested testing on the gun for comparison with the evidence. Before Baldwin turned the .22 over to the defense expert, he shot the gun to perform his own analysis and found he had been dead wrong.
"It is my opinion that the fired jacket bullet (from Collier's head) was fired in the bottom barrel of the .22 Magnum Davis Derringer," he wrote in a new report issued Jan. 15, 1998.
Singer, the defense expert, confirmed Baldwin's new findings and said he finds it unbelievable the mistake was made in the first place.
"There was obviously an error that should have been caught," said Singer, who directs Tarrant County's crime lab. "There is enough of a difference between a .25-caliber bullet and a .22 Magnum that even a nonexpert could look at them and tell the difference."
The differences should have been particularly clear when comparing the .25 from Rasul's foot and the .22 from Collier, said Singer, who also discounts Baldwin's assessment that the bullet from Collier was "extremely mutilated."
"It wasn't that badly damaged," he said. "It had some damage but it wasn't destroyed, and certainly not enough to cause this kind of confusion."
Two jurors, Dianna Kay Lindsay and Colette A. Cox, who served on the panel that sentenced Williams to death, say they would have changed their verdict had they known the truth about the bullets.
"That information would have raised a reasonable doubt that Nanon Williams was guilty of capital murder," Cox wrote in an affidavit. "Consequently I would have acquitted."
Morris Moon, a lawyer for the Texas Defenders Service who is handling Williams' appeals, said he finds the utter inaccuracy of HPD's ballistics work troubling.
"At best it is complete negligence," Moon said. "At worst it is outright malfeasance."
The new ballistics evidence and other findings won Williams an evidentiary hearing, a preliminary step to a new trial, in December 2000. State District Judge Joan Campbell recommended that Williams receive a new trial, but the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals rejected her advice. Williams' lawyer plans to pursue a federal appeal.
In the second case, Bernal was riding around north Houston with four friends the night of Aug. 18, 1994, sitting in the passenger's seat as they looked for girls and sniffed paint. The group pulled into an icehouse parking lot where a foursome of friends stood talking around 12:15 a.m. Someone in the car pointed a gun out the passenger-side window and demanded money.
The friends scattered. Four shots were fired, and Lee Dilley, a 19-year-old who had completed his freshman year at Stephen F. Austin University, was fatally struck.
The group in the car sped off and began to disband. At the end of the night, Bernal went home with a .357 Smith & Wesson revolver and 11 .38 caliber Special hollow-tip lead bullets.
Police and prosecutors say Bernal had the gun all night and shot Dilley. But Bernal and his lawyer say he found the gun, which belonged to Juan Reynoso, a 14-year-old known as Little Gangster, in the back seat. Bernal said he took it home because he lived near Reynoso and planned to return it.
Bernal never saw Reynoso after the shooting because Reynoso left immediately for Mexico. So, when police came to serve an arrest warrant 12 days later, kicking in Bernal's bedroom door, he had both the gun and bullets in a drawer.
Though Bernal maintained he did not kill Dilley, he assumed the revolver he had was the one used in the shooting. He and his current lawyer, Rosenberg, now believe there was likely a second gun in the car, possibly a 9 mm that Reynoso was known to carry. The bullets recovered could have been used in a 9 mm or in a .357. Bernal and his lawyer have filed an appeal.
Bernal's court-appointed trial attorney never hired an independent firearms expert, though money was allocated, and again the ballistics work of HPD's Baldwin played a critical role at trial.
He testified that the .357 revolver matched the bullet that killed Dilley, and in open court, without objection from Bernal's lawyer, described the methods he used to obtain that match -- methods that others in the field say were inappropriate.
Although several firearms examiners say most ballistics tests require no more than three shots, Baldwin testified that he shot the revolver 25 times before he found one bullet that matched the bullet from Dilley.
Baldwin testified that he "did use the 11 cartridges that were submitted as well as additional cartridges beyond that." He said he shot all of the bullets found in Bernal's drawer and then fired two of his own, still not getting a match.
At that time, Baldwin testified, he cleaned the barrel of the gun with a solvent -- another inappropriate step according to firearms examiners. After cleaning the gun, Baldwin shot an additional 12 bullets and finally obtained a match.
"I didn't even snap to it," Bernal said from death row last week. "They had someone shoot it 25 times, and my lawyer never even had someone shoot it once."
Prosecutors relied on Baldwin's testimony to add weight to their case, which otherwise contained the evolving stories of people in the car with Bernal and eye-witness identifications that conflicted with the original description of the shooter.
During his closing argument, prosecutor Wisner, who tried the case with Johnny Sutton, noted that two of Dilley's friends identified Bernal. Wisner sealed his argument by citing "the third huge piece of corroboration that the defendant is arrested with the murder weapon."