STORY: "Former Texas Prosecutor Probably Sent Innocent Man to His Death. Now He’s on Trial for Misconduct," by Jordan Smith, published by The Intercept on May 2, 2017. (Jordan Smith is a state and national award-winning investigative journalist based in Austin, Texas. She has covered criminal justice for nearly 20 years and during that time has developed a reputation as a resourceful and dogged reporter with a talent for analyzing complex social and legal issues, and is regarded as one of the best investigative reporters in Texas. Her work has also appeared in The Nation, The Crime Report, and Salon, among other places.)
GIST: "The courthouse in Corsicana, Texas, roughly 60 miles southeast of Dallas, has been meticulously restored to its original 1905 glory, a time when the county was awash in oil money. Its main courtroom has soaring, two-story pink walls and gold-flecked architectural details that frame the judge’s bench, witness stand, and jury box. For more than three decades, John Jackson worked this room (though during those years it was a far more utilitarian space), first as a prosecutor with the Navarro County district attorney’s office and later as an elected judge, until his retirement in 2012. Last week he returned, this time as a defendant, facing charges brought by the State Bar of Texas, whose lawyers argue that Jackson violated basic legal ethics in connection with his conduct in prosecuting the county’s most notorious case, the death penalty trial of Cameron Todd Willingham, who was convicted and ultimately executed for what the state insists was the December 1991 arson-murder of his three young children in the home they shared just over a mile away. Specifically, the state’s lawyers contend that Jackson made a deal with a jailhouse snitch who agreed to testify against Willingham and then hid that deal from Willingham’s defense attorneys — a clear violation of both law and ethics. They say that Jackson took extraordinary measures over the next two decades to conceal his deceitful actions. “It is a duty of the prosecution — an ethical obligation — to turn over that evidence,” state bar lawyer Kristin Brady told jurors in her opening arguments last Wednesday afternoon. “For years he protected this snitch; for years. It wasn’t for [the snitch’s] protection, it was for his own protection.” The prosecution of Willingham has been widely reported and litigated, in part because his conviction was secured on twin pillars of evidence known to wreak havoc in the criminal justice system: junk science and incentivized snitch testimony. Where the junk science is concerned, there is now little question that the fire that killed Willingham’s children was not arson — caused, as the state claimed, by Willingham spreading lighter fluid around his house and setting it ablaze. Leading fire scientists have weighed in to say that the evidence the Corsicana Fire Department and Texas fire marshal investigator relied upon in fingering Willingham as the cause of the deadly blaze was based on outdated, discredited fire-science folklore. It is the second basis of the prosecution, however, that underlies Jackson’s current civil disciplinary trial. In short, lead prosecutor Jackson called a man named Johnny Webb to testify at Willingham’s 1992 trial to say that while he was locked up in the county jail on an aggravated robbery charge, his fellow inmate, Willingham, randomly, and in detail, confessed to Webb his alleged crime. Under questioning by Jackson, Webb asserted that he did not expect any benefit in exchange for his incriminating testimony. In the years since Willingham’s 2004 execution, significant evidence has come to light indicating that was untrue.........By 8 a.m. on April 26, the day Jackson’s trial commenced, the Corsicana courthouse was crawling with security — including cops in army green flak jackets patrolling the exterior and interior of the building. One deputy said the extra show of force was deemed necessary simply because of the high-profile nature of the case. Others have intimated it was because of possible threats, presumably to Jackson and/or Webb, by members of the Aryan Brotherhood, allegedly hostile to the state’s case against Willingham. The county’s law enforcement machine was ready for any eventuality — and regardless of whether the threats were legitimate, it made for a significant show of force for the jurors required to march in and out of the courtroom past the armed officers. Byrne, Jackson’s attorney, played the security to good effect. In asking Jackson about other actions he took to help Webb — notably, issuing two bench warrants to bring Webb back to the county jail to serve out part of his sentence — he gestured to the deputies in the courtroom. Of course Jackson would want to bring the vulnerable Webb back to the county where he would be guarded by sheriff’s employees, people Jackson trusted, who worked every day to keep residents of the county safe — including, he noted, the jurors currently sitting in judgment. Jackson, now 66, who has slightly stooped shoulders, a lispy Texas drawl, and a face that rests in a half-smile, nodded knowingly. Much of Byrne’s trial strategy seemed to be based in this kind of tribalism: Jackson worked to keep the county safe from child murderers such as Willingham and bent over backward to help a troubled young man, Johnny Webb, who helped to put a monster in prison. Why would such a man do anything unethical or illegal to make that happen? Byrne spent much of his opening argument focused on the years of litigation in the Willingham case — at one point even suggesting that current fire science is actually unreliable, bought and paid for by out-of-state forces like the Innocence Project (which filed the initial ethics complaint with the bar in 2014 on behalf of Willingham’s relatives), whereas the investigation that fingered Willingham for murder was solid. The message was clear: Outside forces are using the state bar and its trumped-up ethics charge to try to bring down a good man. Indeed, Byrne has worked hard to get Judge Farr to allow into evidence as much of the grisly detail of the children’s deaths and negative evidence regarding Willingham’s character as possible, much to the consternation of bar lawyer Kristin Brady, who was clearly exasperated by Byrne’s histrionics. Almost all of the trial’s third day was spent with the lawyers arguing this issue outside the presence of the jury, whose 15 members spent the day cooling their heels. The details are necessary to show how strong a case Jackson had against Willingham, Byrne argued — so strong that he didn’t even need to call Webb as a witness, let alone make and then conceal a deal with him. But the case details aren’t “relevant to anything,” Brady argued, “because [Jackson] still used Webb.” The grim details would serve only to prejudice the jury. Byrne later retorted, “I hope it’s prejudicial.” But Byrne’s approach obfuscates one of the core missions of the Texas State Bar: to police its members, enforcing basic ethical principles that are key to safeguarding the public from deceitful attorneys. Since 2011, the bar has sought sanctions — which range from public reprimand all the way up to disbarment — against more than 2,000 attorneys. Since 2013, it has had roughly 10 cases against prosecutors that ended in sanctions — including two notable examples. In 2015, former District Attorney Charles Sebesta was disbarred for withholding evidence from attorneys working to defend a man named Anthony Graves, who spent 18 years in prison, 12 of them on death row, before finally being exonerated. (Graves was friends with Willingham during the years that both of them were on the row.) And in 2013, a former DA and elected judge, Ken Anderson, was forced to give up his law license after he agreed to plead guilty to prosecutorial misconduct for his role in the wrongful conviction of Michael Morton. (Anderson was also sentenced to 10 days in jail.) Morton spent 25 years in prison for the murder of his wife before DNA evidence linked her killing to another man. Anderson, like Sebesta, also hid exculpatory evidence from Morton’s attorneys — the action Jackson now stands accused of in the Willingham case. That Jackson’s trial is happening in public, his fate in the hands of a common jury, is something of an anomaly. Lawyers charged with ethical infractions are given a choice of how they want to proceed. They can have their case heard in District Court, as Jackson has opted, or considered in private by a panel made up largely of other attorneys. Since 2013, just three prosecutors have chosen the public option. There is clearly a calculus involved in the decision. “Getting in front of a panel is quicker, but if you feel like you’re not going to do well there, you take it to trial court,” Houston criminal defense attorney John Floyd told the Corsicana Daily Sun. It would seem Jackson chose wisely; Byrne’s attempts to retry the Willingham case are likely an easier lift in front of a jury than before a panel of lawyers."
The entire story can be found at:
PUBLISHER'S NOTE: I am monitoring this case/issue. Keep your eye on the Charles Smith Blog for reports on developments. The Toronto Star, my previous employer for more than twenty incredible years, has put considerable effort into exposing the harm caused by Dr. Charles Smith and his protectors - and into pushing for reform of Ontario's forensic pediatric pathology system. The Star has a "topic" section which focuses on recent stories related to Dr. Charles Smith. It can be found at: http://www.thestar.com/topic/
