Archie Williams served 36 years in prison for a crime he did not commit. He was 22 at the time he was convicted of raping and stabbing a woman in her home in Baton Rouge and given a sentence of life without parole.
A few weeks ago, fingerprint technology proved his innocence. Williams who is now 58, was exonerated. When asked what he wanted to do with his newfound freedom he said, sing at the Apollo Theater.
I grew up in the suburbs about 20 miles from Manhattan and my travels to the city were pretty much limited to going out to dinner or a Broadway show (back when you didn’t have to take out at a loan to buy tickets). In high school, I carpooled to Harlem on Saturdays to tutor kids in the projects, but I’m the first to admit that I lived a pretty sheltered life.
Just about everyone has heard of the Apollo Theater, where the best of the best from Duke Ellington to Aretha Franklin have performed, but I'd never met anyone who had actually been there. But last week on a visit to see my Mom in New York, the opportunity presented itself.
Mike and Janice Wright Sugarman are native Californians who moved to Brooklyn a few years ago and seamlessly rearranged the broadcasting alphabet from KCBS to WCBS. In a serendipitous stroke of good timing, Mike was scheduled for an interview with Williams at the Apollo for his weekly segment on CBS’s: Sweet Spot (which just won an Edward R. Murrow award for best video in radio. I know, I know.)
Sugarman is a consummate reporter/storyteller and the most curious person I’ve ever met. He asks a question I get a lot - do the inmates I meet at San Quentin tell me they have been wrongfully accused. It's a common assumption, but I’ve yet to meet that prisoner. While the men might take issue with the severity or length of their sentence and the integrity of the criminal justice system, as of yet, not one has tried to convince me that they didn’t commit the crime.
The incarcerated men to date all own up to their criminal behavior. That's not to say that there are people inside who have been wrongfully accused, I just haven't met them and if I did, I'm not sure what I could do.
Years ago, when I was reporting for a local newspaper, an inmate at Folsom Prison sent me a very detailed letter about an inmate he’d befriended who he believed was innocent and he could prove it. He spent hours at the library doing research and presented a compelling argument that he hoped the press would investigate
The editor of the paper listened while I stated the case. After I was finished, he told me in so many words that if they did a story on every prisoner who claimed their innocence, the paper wouldn’t have room for any other articles. All the news not fit to print.
It’s impossible for me to imagine being locked up for three days let alone three decades. To be imprisoned for a crime you didn’t commit is unfathomable. How the inmates remain hopeful is where organizations like the Vera Institute and the Marshall Project come in.
The longer I volunteer at San Quentin the more I learn about the many organizations that work tirelessly for social justice and prison reform. The Innocence Project, initiated by Barry Scheck, is responsible for Archie Williams's exoneration. Bravo to the teams of people that didn’t give up on him. But while we celebrate his freedom, it’s hard not to think about other innocent incarcerated people that may never get out for crimes they did not commit.
Just last week three men who served 36 years in a Maryland prison were freed after new evidence exonerated them in the killing of a Baltimore teen in 1983. According to an article in the Baltimore Sun, Circuit Court Judge Charles Peters told the men, "On behalf of the criminal justice system, and I'm sure this means very little to you gentlemen, I'm going to apologize,"
Williams is one of the lucky ones, and if you can recognize the irony in that, you might also wonder how he can dance around a stage singing his heart out covering little Stevie Wonder's
song, AS ©
We all know sometimes life's hates and troubles
Can make you wish you were born in another time and space
But you can bet your lifetimes that and twice it's double
That God knew exactly where he wanted you to be placed
The audience was not privy to the fact that Williams had just been released from prison for a crime he did not commit. It was not disclosed until the end of the evening at which point I'd already decided I might have to move back to New York just to attend more show at the Apollo. The house band, the MC, the deejay, are worth the price of admission. As the song progressed Archie moved across the stage and I could feel his angst. I knew I was witness to something very special. This is a very talented man.
What is it like to be free after so many years? His reply is that he won’t truly feel free until the innocent men who are locked up are free. As he said on his release, “Freedom is of the mind.”
You can feel it all over, Archie, you can feel it all over and over...
Mike Sugarman’s video/interview with Archie at the Apollo will be posted on Sweet Spot https://wcbs880.radio.com/categories/sweet-spot
© Stevie Wonder, AS
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