PASSAGE OF THE DAY: "As I began investigating Joe’s case, I wanted to understand if he had also been convicted, in part, on the strength of bad forensic science. Even bigger questions animated a Texas Forensic Science Commission meeting that I attended last fall, at which scientists and attorneys discussed bloodstain pattern analysis. “Is it science or not?” one participant asked. “Is there a scientific foundation for blood spatter?” asked another. These were startling questions to hear, considering that bloodstain pattern analysis is readily admitted into criminal proceedings around the country. No one seemed sure of the answers. It was this type of forensic science that helped prosecutors win a conviction in Joe Bryan’s case, and that has kept him in prison for more than 30 years. Next week, I’ll tell you much more about going to Oklahoma to take a 40-hour course in bloodstain pattern analysis. Let’s just say that I never expected to find myself swinging an axe covered in human blood...Until then, thanks for reading. Pamela."
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DISPATCH (3): "Hi everyone, So how much actual science is there behind forensic science? That’s what I found myself wondering as I sat in a Texas courtroom in the spring of 2016, watching a murder trial unfold. Testifying for the prosecution was Tom Bevel, a world-renowned expert in bloodstain pattern analysis, who told the jury that the defendant in the case had murdered his stepson. Testifying for the defense was one of Bevel’s former students, a local crime scene investigator, who insisted that the stepson had, in fact, committed suicide. Both expert witnesses were equally certain of their conclusions. Both cited the exact same evidence: the bloodstains that were found at the crime scene. How was this possible, I wondered? How could two experts—each trained in the same forensic discipline—come to diametrically opposite conclusions? With a man’s liberty hanging in the balance, who should jurors believe? (The defendant was, in the end, sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.) I didn’t end up writing about that trial, but I never forgot the certainty with which each expert addressed the jury. Yet one of them had to be wrong. After the trial, I bought the textbook that Bevel, a former Oklahoma City police investigator, co-wrote with ex-criminal investigator Ross Gardner. The book—full of gory crime scene photos—is called “Bloodstain Pattern Analysis with an Introduction to Crime Scene Reconstruction,” and it is considered to be the “bible” of bloodstain pattern analysis. As I read the book, I could see that some of the information in it would be helpful to a crime scene investigator. Recognizing that a particular series of droplets on the ground might be a “drip trail,” for example, could help an investigator understand that the perpetrator may have been injured in the commission of the crime and perhaps left the scene bleeding—potentially important details when trying to identify a suspect. But the idea that a police officer could also reverse-engineer and reconstruct a crime from the bloodstains left behind—and then go on to testify with certainty about the choreography of that crime—seemed hard to believe. Did this kind of forensic science hold up to scrutiny, I wondered? Bevel’s book stated that bloodstain pattern analysis has “no known error rate.” (In other words, there is no clear-cut way to verify whether an analyst’s assessment of a crime scene is correct or incorrect.) How many people had been convicted on the strength of this kind of testimony? Last year, I learned that the Texas Forensic Science Commission had decided to look into two cases involving bloodstain pattern analysis. The commission investigates complaints about the misuse of forensic testimony and evidence, and its decision to examine bloodstain interpretation seemed significant. I started attending its meetings, and read up on the two cases. One of them was the case of Norma Clark, which you read about in Part II. The other was Joe Bryan’s. The more I looked into the circumstances that led to Joe’s conviction, the more fascinated I became. One detail that caught my attention was that Joe was represented by Waco attorney Walter Reaves. I knew Reaves had worked on many cases in Texas involving junk science—including the notorious case of Cameron Todd Willingham, an East Texas man who was sentenced to death in 1992 for killing his three children in a house fire. Willingham’s conviction had largely rested on the forensic analysis of two arson investigators, who had testified that tell-tale burn patterns inside the Willingham home revealed the use of an accelerant, proving that the fire had been deliberately set. The Willingham case showed the corrosive power of bad forensic science. Four days before Willingham’s scheduled execution in 2004, Reaves submitted a report to then-Gov. Rick Perry and the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals. In it, an acclaimed fire scientist named Gerald Hurst enumerated the ways in which investigators had grossly misinterpreted the crime scene, and concluded that there was no clear-cut evidence of arson. The report went unheeded, and Willingham was put to death by lethal injection. A slew of scientists later backed Hurst’s findings, and the case led to both a statewide review of other arson cases, and a wholesale reevaluation of fire investigation itself. The New Yorker’s David Grann wrote a devastating piece about the case that is well worth your time to read, as is this equally incredible series by Steve Mills (now of ProPublica Illinois) and Maurice Possley for the Chicago Tribune. As I began investigating Joe’s case, I wanted to understand if he had also been convicted, in part, on the strength of bad forensic science. Even bigger questions animated a Texas Forensic Science Commission meeting that I attended last fall, at which scientists and attorneys discussed bloodstain pattern analysis. “Is it science or not?” one participant asked. “Is there a scientific foundation for blood spatter?” asked another. These were startling questions to hear, considering that bloodstain pattern analysis is readily admitted into criminal proceedings around the country. No one seemed sure of the answers. It was this type of forensic science that helped prosecutors win a conviction in Joe Bryan’s case, and that has kept him in prison for more than 30 years. Next week, I’ll tell you much more about going to Oklahoma to take a 40-hour course in bloodstain pattern analysis. Let’s just say that I never expected to find myself swinging an axe covered in human blood...Until then, thanks for reading. Pamela; P.S. Have you told your friends about my newsletter yet?'
The entire dispatch can be read at:
https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/?tab=wm#inbox/1640848656476c82
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/c
