Freedom Fighters听
A shocking number of people in this country are wrongly convicted of serious crimes and are sent away for life. The 艾可直播 College Innocence Program has helped to win the release of four of them in just the past two years.
WHEN FIREFIGHTERS ARRIVED at 102 Belair Street in Brockton, Massachusetts, in the predawn hours of April 17, 2003, they observed two teenagers poking their heads out of second-floor windows. One of the teens was 17-year-old Frances Choy, who, awakened by her mother鈥檚 scream of 鈥淔rances, there鈥檚 a fire!鈥 had called 911 on her cell phone. The other was Kenneth Choy, Frances鈥檚 16-year-old nephew. Inside the house, a fire was burning with such intensity that it had melted wall fixtures, and thick smoke had trapped Frances, Kenneth, and Frances鈥檚 parents鈥擩immy and Anne Choy鈥攊n their bedrooms.
Anne Choy would be pronounced dead later that morning at Good Samaritan Hospital, but as a headline in the next day鈥檚 艾可直播 Globe made clear, things could have been much worse: 鈥淧olice Say Teen鈥檚 Call about Fire Saved Three Lives.鈥 (Jimmy Choy would eventually also die as a result of the fire.) On the day after that, however, a different narrative began to emerge. The Plymouth County District Attorney鈥檚 Office alleged that Frances and Kenneth had actually been the ones who started the fire, conspiring to murder the elder Choys by burning down the house.
Kenneth Choy had come from Hong Kong to live with the Choys when he was 13, following the suicide of his father, who was Jimmy鈥檚 son. After the fire, investigators searched his bedroom and found instructions he鈥檇 written about how to burn down the house, including dousing areas of it with gasoline. But he told police that it was Frances who was behind the fire, because she 鈥渨anted better parents.鈥 He claimed that his aunt had grown exasperated with his refusals to set the blaze, so had done it herself. Both teenagers were ultimately charged with two counts of first-degree murder.
Frances, a quiet and gentle rule-follower who鈥檇 never been in trouble and was working her way toward college, was a most unlikely suspect. Yet prosecutors built their case around the idea that she was actually a cold and manipulative mastermind who鈥檇 orchestrated the plot to kill her parents. At two different trials, the prosecution was unable to convince deadlocked juries of Frances鈥檚 guilt, but the third time was the charm. In 2011, eight years after the fire, a jury found her guilty. She was given a mandatory life sentence without the possibility of parole. But here鈥檚 the thing: She was innocent.
In Massachusetts, a first-degree murder conviction triggers an automatic appeal to the Supreme Judicial Court. Any appeal is an uphill climb, a long and complicated process with a narrow chance of success. An appeal of a murder conviction is an uphill climb into hurricane headwinds. This is true regardless of whether the defendant happens to have been wrongfully convicted. In Frances鈥檚 case, there were transcripts from her three trials to pore over, police and fire investigation reports, state police crime lab reports, photographs, and witness interviews. The task of gathering and sifting through all of this for Frances鈥檚 appeal fell to the 艾可直播 attorney John J. Barter, a solo practitioner working out of a four-story brick-and-stone building in the North End, whom the court appointed to the case. As Barter continued to examine the files, it became clear to him that Frances had been scapegoated. That she was, in fact, not guilty. To help prove that in a court of law, Barter eventually sought the help of the 艾可直播 College Innocence Program.
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SINCE 1989, MORE THAN 2,700 PEOPLE in the country have been exonerated after being wrongfully convicted of felony crimes鈥攁n average of nearly 90 a year. Collectively, they served more than 24,600 years in prison. These are just the cases that we know about, the ones that garnered headlines and TV news coverage of exonerees who, after spending decades behind bars, walked through prison gates and collapsed into the arms of loved ones.
But for every high-profile exoneration, there is an unknowable number of other wrongful convictions. It鈥檚 a dark parlor game to speculate how many of our nation鈥檚 2.3 million incarcerated citizens might actually be there for a crime they didn鈥檛 commit. Charlotte Whitmore, the BC Innocence Program鈥檚 supervising attorney, gets this question from time to time. 鈥淚 think we have a pretty good justice system,鈥 she鈥檒l say. 鈥淚t鈥檚 not perfect, but we probably get serious felony convictions right about 95 percent of the time.鈥 Impressive, maybe, but as Whitmore will add, 鈥淚f planes crash 5 percent of the time, would you get on one? If a surgeon killed 5 percent of his patients, would you go to him?鈥
To address this massive problem, more than fifty organizations around the country, collectively known as the Innocence Network, work to identify wrongly convicted inmates and free them. Some, such as BC鈥檚 Innocence Program, known as the BCIP, are affiliated with universities, but most are freestanding nonprofits or units within public defender offices with a mission to provide free representation to prisoners with plausible claims of innocence.
The BCIP was launched in 2006 by BC Law Professor Sharon Beckman. After several years of steady progress, the program took off in 2013, when Beckman received an unexpected gift from a New York securities lawyer who asked a judge to send some unclaimed funds from a settlement her way. Beckman used the gift to hire Whitmore to help establish a clinic in which a small group of law students would work on cases, the legal equivalent of a teaching hospital where medical students tend to patients under the supervision of physicians.
Today, at any given time, the BCIP is representing about a dozen inmates in innocence cases. Sometimes the program acts as a client鈥檚 only counsel, and sometimes it acts as co-counsel with court-appointed attorneys or with the two other Massachusetts-based Innocence Network organizations, the New England Innocence Project and the Committee for Public Counsel Service (CPCS) Innocence Program. In just the past two years, the BCIP has secured the release of four clients from wrongful imprisonment.
Law students enrolled in the BCIP immerse themselves in the details of their clients鈥 cases. Sarah Carlow, for instance, was just starting her second year at the Law School, in 2018, when she was assigned to work on Frances Choy鈥檚 case. By then, Choy had served almost fifteen years in connection with the death of her parents. Carlow recalls how her work for the BCIP sent her to the women鈥檚 state prison in Framingham to meet Frances for the first time. While incarcerated, Frances had earned a sociology degree. She鈥檇 passed a cosmetology exam, worked as a sous-chef, and spent five years training service dogs, raising Labs from puppies. 鈥淎s soon as I met her, I was, like, I want to be involved with this for the long haul until I can see her walk out of prison,鈥 Carlow said.
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IN THE HOURS AFTER THE FIRE, investigators questioned both Frances and Kenneth at the Brockton hospital where they were treated for smoke inhalation. That evening, police then questioned the two surviving Choys yet again, this time at police headquarters. No audio or video recordings were made of the interrogations. This, a Brockton police detective would later testify, was because the station wasn鈥檛 equipped to record interviews. Officers would also testify that they鈥檇 destroyed their notes after preparing their typed reports.
Over the course of a three-hour interrogation, Frances told police that she had been awakened by her mother鈥檚 screams, and so called 911. The investigators told Frances that gasoline had been found on her sweatpants and asked how it had gotten there. She insisted she did not know that or how the fire had begun.
Meanwhile, in a separate room, detectives questioned Kenneth Choy. Investigators had found two notes under his bed after the fire鈥攏otes that detailed plans to burn down the house, including dousing the floor with gasoline鈥攂ut Kenneth insisted he was not the author. When police said the handwriting matched his own, Kenneth relented and said a 鈥淏lack kid鈥 at school had made him write the notes. He could not name the student. After police expressed their doubts, he acknowledged that the notes were his. When police suggested he did not act alone, he claimed that Frances had directed him to write the notes, and that the fire had been her idea.
The detectives then confronted Frances with her nephew鈥檚 accusation, but she continued to deny having anything to do with the fire. Only after hours of interrogation, when police said they were about to arrest her, a detective would testify at her trial, did Frances change her story. 鈥淔ine, I planned it,鈥 she said, according to the detective鈥檚 testimony. She immediately recanted, he acknowledged, but she was charged and booked, handcuffed to a railing, and photographed.
Frances wouldn鈥檛 stand trial until 2008, five years after the fire, and, having been denied bail, would spend the entire time in jail. When her case finally made it to trial, a canine officer testified that his dog had 鈥渁lerted鈥 to accelerant on her sweatpants. A state police chemist testified to the presence of gasoline residue on the sweatpants. But the twelve jurors couldn鈥檛 agree on a verdict and a mistrial was declared.
In a separate trial that same year, Kenneth Choy was acquitted of murder, his lawyer arguing to the jury that the fire had been Frances鈥檚 idea, and that she had started it. Kenneth was a free man.
Frances was tried for a second time in 2011, and this time a new witness testified against her: Kenneth. Though her nephew had been acquitted of murder charges, prosecutors still had it within their power to charge him with arson or conspiracy to commit murder. However, they gave him immunity in exchange for his testimony against Frances. Yes, he told jurors, he had written the notes, but he never had any intention of starting the fire. Yes, he testified, he had placed two Sprite bottles filled with gasoline on the basement stairs, but he insisted that he鈥檇 simply left them there. He testified that he was in his room with the door shut when he heard a liquid being poured out and then a 鈥渨hoosh鈥 sound. Despite Kenneth鈥檚 testimony, however, the jury once again was deadlocked.
Prosecutors chose to try Frances for a third time, with her new trial beginning a few months later. This time, however, there鈥檇 be no Kenneth Choy to testify. Facing heroin charges, he鈥檇 fled the country, leaving prosecutors without their star witness. No matter: Using Kenneth鈥檚 testimony from the previous trial, prosecutors were allowed to 鈥渞ole-play鈥 his answers from the witness stand. If that sounds bizarre to you鈥攁 prosecutor acting out testimony from a previous trial鈥攜ou鈥檙e not alone. Carlow, the law student, was assigned to look for any precedents. She found one similar instance, but the resulting conviction had been thrown out on appeal.
鈥淗ow can this possibly be consistent with the right to confront your accuser?鈥 Beckman said. 鈥淭his is not just any old witness. It鈥檚 the initial suspect鈥攖he incentivized codefendant who鈥檚 immunized, the only person who鈥檚 accusing Frances Choy, the only one who鈥檚 saying he ever saw her do anything incriminating. Falsely, of course. And this is the testimony that鈥檚 presented in a role-play. That鈥檚 a major judicial error, the type that causes wrongful convictions.鈥
Kenneth Choy鈥檚 dramatic testimony about a couch and stairs doused with gasoline was contradicted by the state鈥檚 fire investigator, who testified there was no trace of gasoline on either, and that no accelerant was involved starting or spreading the fire. Nonetheless, on May 16, 2011, the jury found Frances guilty of murder and arson. She was sentenced to life in prison.
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SHARON BECKMAN GREW UP IN ILLINOIS, the daughter of a plumber and a stay-at-home mom, and her childhood was the kind that politicians evoke when they want to harken back to simpler times. Beckman鈥檚 passion was competitive swimming (she would one day swim nonstop across the English Channel), and as a young girl she believed that being a swim coach was her calling. But after reading听To Kill a Mockingbird鈥攖he American classic of a small-town attorney in Alabama who represents a Black man wrongly accused of rape鈥攈er life was on a different trajectory. She would be a criminal defense attorney. The book was a 鈥渃omplete moral awakening for me of the realities of life in America,鈥 Beckman said. 鈥淭he idea that an innocent person could be wrongly convicted and sentenced to death because of the color of his skin literally shocked me to my core. It was not a thing I had ever thought about before. That was my white privilege.鈥
After graduating from Harvard in 1980, Beckman worked as a paralegal for a time in 艾可直播, then attended the University of Michigan Law School. After clerking for Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O鈥機onnor and working at law firms in 艾可直播 and Chicago, she joined the 艾可直播 College Law 艾可直播in 1995. It was a time when America鈥檚 innocence movement was just beginning, driven in part by the emergence of DNA analysis, which led to several high-profile exonerations of wrongfully convicted prisoners. The escalating number of exonerations led many who worked in the criminal justice system to begin to question its fundamental fairness. 鈥淚f you asked me in the late 鈥80s or early 鈥90s if I thought there were thousands of people in prison wrongly convicted of crimes they didn鈥檛 commit, I wouldn鈥檛 have been able to tell you that,鈥 Beckman said. 鈥淣ow I think the thousands we know about are just the tip of the iceberg.鈥
When Beckman launched the BCIP in 2006, she started modestly, having law students screen cases for the New England Innocence Project. The students would review transcripts and case files, search for physical evidence and witnesses, and research the validity of forensic testimony, then make a recommendation as to whether the NEIP should accept the case. The arrangement was educational, but limiting. 鈥淲e鈥檇 determine the investigative pathways and then the case would be sent to a law firm, and that would be the end of the students鈥 role in the case,鈥 Beckman recalled. 鈥淚 always wished we could have an in-house innocence clinic at BC Law.鈥 Then, in 2013, the gift from the New York securities lawyer, Greg Keller, helped Beckman turn her wish into a reality.
As luck would have it, Charlotte Whitmore moved to 艾可直播 right around the time of Keller鈥檚 gift. Whitmore had spent the prior three years as the staff attorney at the Pennsylvania Innocence Project. When she鈥檇 started there, in 2010, the organization鈥檚 legal director鈥攁nd the only other attorney on staff鈥攍ed her into a room filled with 100 or so large boxes, each containing the files of someone in prison claiming to be innocent. 鈥淪tart reading,鈥 the legal director said. It took Whitmore a month to skim the files. 鈥淚 pulled up three cases at the end of that month that I wanted to start with,鈥 she recalled. 鈥淪omething in them caught my eye, a red flag.鈥 All three of those people have since been exonerated. The first to be released, Eugene Gilyard, had been wrongfully convicted of murder and spent fifteen years in prison. Whitmore worked on his case for three years before he was finally freed, in 2013. 鈥淲hen the judge announced her decision, the courtroom erupted, like out of the movies,鈥 she said. 鈥淓veryone was crying and hugging. It was a really moving moment.鈥 Innocence work was the only law she wanted to practice.
鈥淪he鈥檚 one of the best post-conviction innocence attorneys in the country,鈥 Beckman said. And with the gift from Keller and a grant from the provost鈥檚 office, she was able to bring her to the BCIP. Together, they have transformed the program. Today, the BCIP represents its clients from start to finish. It has also expanded its mission to include policy and social-services work in the service of exonerees. 鈥淲e want to reform the system to make it less biased, more fair, more accurate,鈥 Beckman said.
In 2018, the BCIP was part of a coalition that helped to change Massachusetts law to double the maximum amount of compensation available to exonerees, from $500,000 to $1 million, and to stipulate that attorney fees incurred while pursuing a wrongful-conviction claim are not taken out of that compensation. More changes to the law are needed, Beckman said. For instance, when an exoneree is released from prison, there are no support mechanisms in place to ensure a smooth reentry into society. Prisoners released on parole or probation are typically set up with case workers and a social-services network, Beckman pointed out, but exonerees鈥攑eople who are not guilty of any crime鈥攁re essentially on their own. Many are released to supportive families and friends. But others are not. 鈥淭he state provides nothing to them,鈥 she said. 鈥淣o place to live, no transportation, nothing. That is a major gap in the law.鈥 So the BCIP is working with state Senator Patricia Jehlen and others on legislation that would provide immediate reentry support for the wrongly convicted.
“The prosecution portrayed Frances as a manipulative schemer capable of murdering her parents. They dehumanized her and sold their anti-Asian stereotype to the jury.”
Meanwhile, the BCIP has created a social-services network of its own for the program鈥檚 clients. Law School Assistant Clinical Professor Claire Donohue JD鈥05, MSW鈥05 supervises graduate students, primarily from the School of Social Work but also from the Connell School of Nursing and the Lynch School of Education and Human Development, who work on setting up reentry plans for program clients. 鈥淲e start by asking: Do you have housing security, food stability, are you medically sound and safe?鈥 Donohue said. 鈥淭hen we go to the second-order needs: Are mental health counseling or substance abuse counseling required? And then third-order: Do you aspire to further education or vocational training?鈥 These plans can also be persuasive when judges are considering whether to release likely exonerees early while their cases are being officially resolved, Beckman said.
Beckman also sits on an SJC committee that reviews jury instructions in Massachusetts to ensure that they reflect the scientific consensus鈥攁 crucial step in helping to reduce biases that could affect a jury鈥檚 ability to return an accurate verdict. In 2015, for instance, the BCIP鈥攚orking with BC鈥檚 psychology department鈥攕cientifically demonstrated the limits of human memory, which contributed to the court鈥檚 decision to create a model jury instruction in cases involving eyewitness identification testimony. The program is also part of a working group that is recommending best practices for helping district attorney offices to avoid wrongful convictions, and to recognize, acknowledge, and remedy them when they do happen. The report is scheduled to go before the Massachusetts Bar Association for approval this spring.听听
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AFTER FRANCES CHOY WAS CONVICTED in 2011, the court appointed her case to John Barter for appeal. For help, he turned to a friend and colleague, Sharon Beckman. 鈥淚鈥檓 representing a client who鈥檚 innocent,鈥 he told her. Beckman and Whitmore reviewed the case and promptly agreed to join as co-counsel in 2017. (The BCIP is very selective about the cases it accepts. Whitmore estimated that it declines more than 90 percent of the time.)
In trying to prove a client鈥檚 innocence, it鈥檚 not necessary to identify someone else as the actual perpetrator. But it helps. In the case of Frances Choy, the defense team was able to track down a new witness who鈥檇 been overlooked by the trial attorney. And this person made an earth-shaking claim鈥攖hat Kenneth Choy had admitted to the witness that he was the one who鈥檇 set the fire that killed Jimmy and Anne Choy. According to the witness, Kenneth said that he and his mother (who lived in Hong Kong) were 鈥渕ad at the Choys because they kept asking for more money.鈥
The investigation by Barter and the BCIP turned up more. One of the key arguments Plymouth County prosecutors had made to implicate Frances was that gasoline had been found on her sweatpants. But Frances鈥檚 team found an expert who said that the state鈥檚 lab tests had actually not shown evidence of gasoline. And the insistence by police officers that their interrogation rooms were not set up to record interviews? The attorneys and law students found a former Brockton police detective who swore otherwise. There was still more. Frances鈥檚 team was at last able to get the prosecutors鈥 entire case file, including material that hadn鈥檛 been given to Frances鈥檚 original attorney.
Among the bombshell finds in the file was an email that Assistant District Attorney Karen O鈥橲ullivan had sent to a detective the night before he was to testify in Frances鈥檚 third trial. In the email, O鈥橲ullivan included a script of what the detective should say on the stand, including testimony he had previously sworn under oath was not correct. Also in the file were handwritten notes from the detective鈥檚 interview with Frances鈥攏otes that the detective had previously testified were destroyed. Then there were the police reports from before the fire in which Jimmy Choy had gone to the authorities with his suspicions that Kenneth had been dealing drugs, information that might have more firmly established a motive for the boy to have set the fire.
But the most staggering disclosure came not from physical evidence or testimony from new witnesses, but from emails that Barter had fought for five years to get Plymouth County prosecutors to release.The emails, spanning the years 2006 to 2009, were between O鈥橲ullivan and John Bradley, the two Plymouth County assistant district attorneys involved in prosecuting Frances Choy. In a motion filed in January 2020, Barter and the BCIP characterized the communications this way: 鈥淭hese emails included 鈥榡okes鈥 about Asian people, photographs depicting Asian people in a demeaning way, and commentary specifically about Frances, alleging that she was engaged in an incestuous relationship with her nephew and mocking her.鈥 In one of the emails, drawing upon the fact that Frances鈥檚 extended family, united in their support for her, typically sat in the rear of the courtroom during hearings, the prosecutors sneered that, at an upcoming proceeding, she would be 鈥渨earing a cheongsam and will be the one doing origami in the back of the courtroom.鈥 In another, Frances鈥檚 face was Photoshopped onto the body of a Girl Scout standing in front of a burning house. 鈥淣ext time,鈥 read the caption, 鈥渂uy the [expletive] cookies.鈥 The racial bias explicit in the trial prosecutors鈥 emails, the defense team argued, amounted to 鈥渟tructural constitutional error鈥 that, by itself, demanded a reversal of the convictions.
Judge Linda Giles, who鈥檇 presided over the third trial, in which Frances was convicted, was appalled. Had she known about the emails, she wrote, she would have declared a mistrial and ordered that the prosecutors be removed from the case. Giles found that the newly discovered evidence of Frances鈥檚 innocence, mistakes by Frances鈥檚 trial counsel, and the evidence of prosecutorial and police misconduct all cast doubt on the integrity of the convictions. Last April, she ordered Frances released until her motion for a new trial could be ruled on. Then, in September, she ruled that 鈥渏ustice may not have been done鈥 and vacated Frances鈥檚 convictions. The Plymouth County District Attorney鈥檚 Office, which called the emails 鈥渞eprehensible,鈥 agreed that the convictions should be vacated and declined to pursue a fourth trial. Frances was exonerated on September 29, 2020, joining Omar Martinez, Ronnie Qualls, and later Thomas Rosa Jr. as wrongfully convicted BCIP clients who have been released in the past two years. Barter said the BCIP鈥檚 work was crucial to the case鈥檚 outcome. 鈥淚 cannot fully express my gratitude for all the ways BCIP helped Frances,鈥 he said, 鈥渋ncluding investigation, formulation and drafting of legal arguments, pursuing discovery, and supporting Frances during her reentry to life outside of the prison walls.鈥
Karen O鈥橲ullivan quit the Plymouth County office in 2012 and is now the first assistant district attorney in Bristol County. John Bradley was fired in 2012 for reasons unrelated to the Frances Choy case. He filed suit alleging wrongful termination and settled in 2017 for a reported $248,000. The emails O鈥橲ullivan and Bradley exchanged may help to explain why Frances was exonerated, but to Beckman they demonstrate why she was wrongly convicted in the first place. 鈥淭he dehumanizing racial stereotypes in their emails became their theory of the case,鈥 Beckman said. 鈥淔rances had never committed a crime and had no history of any mental health or behavioral issues. But the prosecution portrayed her as an emotionless, manipulative schemer capable of murdering her parents by arson. They dehumanized her and sold their anti-Asian stereotype to the jury.鈥
Today, Frances has a job and lives with relatives. Her parents and seventeen years of her life were both wrongfully, inexcusably, taken from her, yet her focus remains on what is still to come. 鈥淢y greatest challenge is coming out here and my parents not being out here,鈥 she said at a recent BCIP event. 鈥淭hat was the hardest thing for me. Everything out here reminds me of them. But with my family鈥檚 support and with my friends鈥, I try to stay strong and I try to live my life in honoring them, and to be positive and to be the best that I can be because I know that鈥檚 what they want from me.鈥澨