The crime occurred at 9:00 pm. A neighbor saw Darren standing by a car. Ten minutes later the police arrested him as he walked around the neighborhood. He was charged with breaking into the car. It seemed like an open and shut case…except that he was merely at the crime scene, which is not a crime. Except that Darren was innocent. Except that Darren was mentally retarded. Yet, the system threatened to roll over him like it does so many.
Five years ago, Cedric called GJP. In jail for his umpteenth drug related case, he wanted legal help. His drug addiction had landed him in jail and prison more times than he could count. He was tired. There was a problem . . . and he didn’t have the answer.
The fall dew covered her face and arms making her think, when she woke up, that it had rained during the night. Her hands reached for the pain in her neck and throat—sore and burning from the rope. Her aching body informed her that she had been unsuccessful—she was still alive. She rose from the grass. It was 5:30 a.m. and still dark. The horror of the night before was not fiction. It was not a bad dream. She had fallen asleep on the grass three miles from her apartment. She had walked there. A quarter was all she had in her pocket.