MACLEANS: CHARLES SMITH RECENTLY OFFERED YOU A TEARFUL APOLOGY FOR WHAT HE DID—AND YOU FORGAVE HIM. MANY OF US WATCHING THE INQUIRY TRIED TO PUT OURSELVES IN YOUR SHOES, AND WONDERED HOW YOU COULD DO IT.
WILLIAM MULLINS-JOHNSON: FORGIVING SOMEBODY, AND WANTING SOMEBODY TO BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE, ARE TWO DIFFERENT THINGS. I HAVE TO FORGIVE HIM, OR ELSE ANGER MIGHT TAKE OVER MY LIFE. AND I CAN’T LET THAT HAPPEN.
THE MACLEANS.CA INTERVIEW WITH WILLIAM MULLINS-JOHNSON;
The question of Dr. Charles Smith's accountability - and the accountability of those institutions and individuals who were supposed to hold him accountable - is of the utmost public importance.
It is therefore instructive to hear from Dr. Charles Smith's victims as to how they feel he should be brought to account - as they know best the harm that he has caused to themselves and their families.
Macleans Magazine therefore performed an important public service by publishing the following interview with William Mullins-Johnson, who was able to think long and hard about Dr. Smith during the more than twelve years he spent in penitentiary - as a result of his Smith's faulty opinions in the case.
The interview, conducted by reported Kate Lunau for an Internet posting, appeared on March 6, 2008, under the headings:
"The Sault Ste. Marie man spent 12 years in prison, thanks to the faulty testimony of disgraced pathologist Charles Smith."
"Mullins-Johnson thinks Smith should be prosecuted—but he has forgiven him."
Maclean's prefaced the interview with the following introduction:
The Air India disaster, the tainted blood scandal, Bre-X, and now Charles Smith: these four have "shattered the sustaining Canadian myth that we are a peaceable kingdom," writes acclaimed journalist Peter C. Newman in the current issue of Maclean's.
But of the countless victims, the case of William Mullins-Johnson has struck a particular chord: wrongfully convicted of the murder of his four-year-old niece, Valin, the Ontario man spent 12 years in prison. Mullins-Johnson's fate was sealed by now-disgraced Charles Smith—then the top pediatric pathologist for Ontario, and star witness for the prosecution—who testified that Valin was strangled to death while being sodomized.
In 2005—as doubts about Charles Smith's testimony were beginning to emerge—Mullins-Johnson was released on bail pending a federal review of his case.
He was acquitted in October 2007, after another forensic expert established that there was no evidence of homicide or sexual injury in the case.
But while Mullins-Johnson is now a free man—and pursuing a degree at the University of Toronto—his life has been irrevocably altered by this wrongful conviction.
"It was worse than a scarlet letter," and caused most of his family to disown him, the Sault Ste. Marie man has said.
Charles Smith, meanwhile, has been the subject of a recently concluded inquiry into his work.
While startling evidence of the pathologist's mismanagement and incompetence was presented, the inquiry, by its nature, protects witnesses from prosecution.
Whether Smith will be held further accountable for his actions is still unclear.
What is clear is that Mullins-Johnson's life has been changed forever.
Here is the interview:
Macleans.ca: Let's look back to before you were convicted. What was your life like then?
William Mullins-Johnson: I was going to a half-day of school and half-day of work at the time [in Sault Ste. Marie]. I was the shipper-receiver in an electrical equipment warehouse.
M: Charles Smith was a witness for the prosecution at your 1994 trial for the first-degree murder of your niece, Valin. Do you remember what your impressions of him were, back then?
WMJ: I really didn’t think about it. I knew he was being brought in as a star witness, but I didn’t see anything remarkable about him. But I don’t put poor training, or incompetence, as defending what he did. Because he knew exactly what he was doing.
M: You were eventually convicted, thanks in large part to Smith's testimony. Is it possible to describe what that moment was like?
WMJ: When they came back with their guilty verdict, I was just numb. I was shocked. The whole courtroom was shocked.
M: While you were in prison, how did you cope with the knowledge that you'd been wrongfully convicted?
WMJ: It took me about five years to really start doing something about it, internally I mean. Because it was eating me up; it was consuming me. Working with my Elder inside there, we had a lot of one-on-one talks, and he helped me realize that I cannot control what other people think of me. And I cannot change the person that I am to suit them. They wanted me to be a child molester, and I could not do it. I could not behave like one; I could not. So I released that stress [by] exercising. I started running, doing weights. It helped me [clear] my head. It helped me stay in touch with the person that I am.
The good thing [about being in prison], is that it helped me look to myself, and take accountability for my actions. It helped me with discipline: running, and working out, and maintaining a regimen of exercise. I started writing a lot, reading a lot. I started hanging out at the library a lot, and on the computer. And spending many hours reading different things.
M: What were you reading?
WMJ: I first started reading—in a small amount, mind you—philosophy, which led me to sociology, which led me to criminology. I started understanding prisons more, and how they run the way they do, and why. Then I started writing [down] what I was seeing.
M: And what did you see?
WMJ: The structure of prisons first: how it’s set up. And then the interactions between convicts; interactions between convicts and guards; interactions between guards. Prisons are not built for rehabilitation, as we understand it. They are not. Because guards try to convince the convict that the prison environment is their community, and their cell is their house. And that’s how convicts begin to think—that the only place they could function is in prison. I would not fall into these terminologies or these behaviours. I had to conform a bit, to survive in there. But I would not treat that place as a place where I belonged. I never belonged there.
M: It sounds like you were very disciplined in there.
WMJ: Anger fuelled it, mind you.
M: When you eventually got out, what were the challenges you faced?
WMJ: Looking back now, I had so much support around me. AIDWYC [the Association in Defence of the Wrongly Convicted] set up a good support system; they would not allow me to fail. I had to do it for myself, too. I started going to the most crowded places in Toronto: like the Yonge-Bloor [subway] station, at rush hour.
M: Just to get used to being around crowds of people again?
WMJ: Yeah. I did have little anxiety attacks, but not overwhelmingly so. I started going out of the house every day, and walking. And just being out, you know? And then I enrolled in U of T [the University of Toronto] in September 2006, and did a transitional year. I jumped into first year last fall. Eventually I hope to major in criminology. But actually I withdrew for this year, because after I was acquitted in October, the emotional release got me really exhausted. So I had to take some time off. Although in the first term, I was seeing half-decent marks. I'll be back at school in September.
M: It must be interesting, studying criminology in university when you've witnessed our prison system first-hand.
WMJ: It can be frustrating because all that the public perceives, in many cases, is wrong. There are certain myths about prison: for example, that we get things handed to us, like cable TV or PlayStations. We don't; we have to buy everything ourselves. We have to pay for cable with a deduction of our biweekly cheques. I want to speak about stuff like that and set people’s minds right.
M: You've spoken about the impact the conviction had on your family. Can you talk a bit about that?
WMJ: Well, it strained our relationship. It strained it to the most extremes that your mind could think of. Me and my mom were isolated because of this. The community itself didn’t know what to do, what to say about it.
M: Is it better now that it's been recognized you were wrongfully convicted?
WMJ: Oh yes. It’s still strained, not in a bad way, just in terms of not understanding why this happened. So I’ve come home [to Sault Ste. Marie] for a little while, to try to help my brothers through this. And get to know my new nephews and nieces. In a lot of ways, nothing has changed between us. My brother Paul, the father of my niece that died, he welcomed me right into his home. And our relationship is good. Because I was convicted, he was doubting me. And when [the truth] started to come out, it kind of eased his mind, that I did not harm his little girl in any way; nobody did. I will go over to Paul’s about two times a week, and have tea or coffee with him, and watch TV.
M: What do you think of the Goudge Inquiry, which has looked into Smith's work? As I'm sure you know, the inquiry format protects witnesses from prosecution.
WMJ: It’s frustrating to know that one man [Charles Smith] had such an impact on so many people’s lives. And the fact that it was condoned makes it even worse. The bottom line is, Crown attorneys have a duty to prosecute this man, because he did mislead the court. He did obstruct justice. He withheld evidence.
M: How does it feel for you, knowing how deeply the testimony provided by this man impacted your own life?
WMJ: [sighs] I don’t have the words. I don’t have the words to say how I’m feeling about that. I really don’t.
M: Charles Smith recently offered you a tearful apology for what he did—and you forgave him. Many of us watching the inquiry tried to put ourselves in your shoes, and wondered how you could do it.
WMJ: Forgiving somebody, and wanting somebody to be held accountable, are two different things. I have to forgive him, or else anger might take over my life. And I can’t let that happen.
Next posting: Part Five: Will Dr. Charles Smith Ever Be Brought to Account?
Harold Levy...hlevy15@gmail.com;
Is The Age of Progressive Prosecutors Over?
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