The Innocent Man (46 page)

These sums do not begin to contemplate the thousands of hours spent by the appellate lawyers who worked so diligently to free the men, nor do they include the time wasted by the state’s lawyers trying to execute them. Every dollar spent prosecuting and defending them was mailed in by the taxpayers.

But there were some savings. Barney Ward was paid a whopping $3,600 to defend Ron, and, as you remember, Judge Jones denied Barney’s request for money to hire a forensic expert to evaluate the state’s evidence. Greg Saunders received the same fee, $3,600. He, too, was denied access to an expert. The taxpayers had to be protected.

The financial waste was frustrating enough, but the human toll was far more damaging. Obviously, Ron’s
mental problems were greatly exacerbated by the wrongful conviction, and, once freed, he never recovered. Most exonerees do not. Dennis Fritz is a lucky one. He had the courage and the intelligence and, eventually, the money to put his life back together. He lives a quiet, normal, and prosperous life in Kansas City, and last year became a grandfather.

Of the other characters, Bill Peterson is still the district attorney in Ada. Two of his assistants are Nancy Shew and Chris Ross. One of his investigators is Gary Rogers. Dennis Smith retired from the Ada Police Department in 1987 and died suddenly on June 30, 2006. Barney Ward died in the summer of 2005 as I was writing the book, and I never had the chance to interview him. Judge Ron Jones was voted out of office in 1990 and left the Ada area.

Glen Gore is still housed on H Unit at McAlester. In July 2005, his conviction was overturned by the Oklahoma Court of Criminal Appeals, and a new trial was ordered. The court decided that Gore did not receive a fair trial because Judge Landrith did not allow his defense lawyer to put on proof that two other men had already been convicted of the murder.

On June 21, 2006, Gore was again found guilty. The jury deadlocked on the issue of death, and Judge Landrith, as required by law, sentenced Gore to life without parole.

I owe much to many people who helped with this book. Annette and Renee and their families gave me complete access to every aspect of Ron’s life. Mark Barrett spent countless hours driving me around Oklahoma, telling
me stories that I at first found hard to believe, and locating witnesses, pulling out old files, and leaning on his network of contacts. His assistant, Melissa Harris, copied a million documents and kept everything in meticulous order.

Dennis Fritz revisited his painful history with remarkable enthusiasm and answered all my questions. Greg Wilhoit did the same.

Brenda Tollett with the
Ada Evening News
dug through the archives and magically produced copies of the paper’s extensive history of the two murders. Ann Kelley Weaver, now with
The Oklahoman
, was quick to recall many of the stories surrounding the exoneration.

At first, Judge Frank Seay was reluctant to talk about one of his cases. He still holds to the old-fashioned notion that judges should be heard and not seen, but he eventually came around. In one of our phone conversations I suggested that he was a “hero,” a description he quickly objected to. I was overruled from twelve hundred miles away. Vicky Hildebrand still works for him and vividly remembers her first reading of Ron’s petition for habeas corpus relief.

Jim Payne is now a federal judge himself and, though cooperative, showed little interest in taking credit for saving Ron’s life. But he is a hero. His careful reading of Janet Chesley’s brief, at home, after hours, prompted concern enough to approach Judge Seay and recommend an eleventh-hour stay of execution.

Though he entered the story in a late chapter, Judge Tom Landrith had the unique pleasure of presiding over the exoneration hearing in April 1999. Visiting his office in the Ada courthouse was always a treat. The stories, many of them probably true, flowed forth with great ease.

Barry Scheck and the warriors at the Innocence Project were gracious and open. As of this writing, they have freed 180 prisoners by DNA testing, and they have inspired at least thirty other innocence projects around the country. For a closer look, go to
www.innocenceproject.org
.

Tommy Ward spent three years and nine months on death row, on the old F Cellhouse, before being permanently exiled to the prison in Lexington. We swapped many letters. Some of his stories were about Ron, and he allowed me to use them in these pages.

Regarding his nightmare, I relied heavily on
The Dreams of Ada
, by Robert Mayer. It’s a fascinating book, a wonderful reminder of how good true-crime writing can be. Mr. Mayer was thoroughly cooperative during my research.

Thanks to the lawyers and staff at the Oklahoma Indigent Defense System—Janet Chesley, Bill Luker, and Kim Marks. And to Bruce Leba, Murl Bowen, Christy Shepherd, Leslie Delk, Dr. Keith Hume, Nancy Vollertsen, Dr. Susan Sharp, Michael Salem, Gail Seward, Lee Mann, David Morris, and Bert Colley. John Sherman, a third-year law student at the University of Virginia, spent a year and a half buried in the boxes of research we collected, and somehow kept it all straight.

I had the benefit of volumes of sworn testimony from most of those involved in this story. Some interviews were not needed. Some were not granted. Only the names of the alleged rape victims have been changed.

John Grisham
July 1, 2006

Ronnie as a Police Eagle, age ten.
Courtesy of the Williamson family

The Williamson family around 1970: Annette, Ron, and Renee, with their parents, Juanita and Roy.
Courtesy of the Williamson family

High school portrait, age eighteen.
Courtesy of the Williamson family

Murl Bowen. His Asher teams won 2,115 games, still a record.
Courtesy of Murl Bowen

Ron, on the far right, at the beginning of his last season.
© John Donovan

As a minor league Yankee, 1976.
Courtesy of the Williamson family

Debbie Carter, two days before she was murdered.
Courtesy of the Carter family

The crime scene—Debbie had the upstairs apartment.
Courtesy of the Ada Evening News