ANTHONY
AND HIS FAMILY, APRIL 13-26
Let
us not be superstitious. There was no special significance in that the
date for the latest hearing in Anthony Graves case was on Friday the
13th
of April.
I arrived together with Anthony's friend Dorothy-Ann Finch, his brother
Arthur and his oldest son Terrell some minutes after the hearing had
begun ( there was a mix-up concerning our cars that caused the delay)
to the courthouse in Caldwell, the small town in Burleson county where
Anthony has been jailed since last year waiting for his trial.
The hearing gave almost nothing. We had hoped for a reduction of the
absurdly high bail sum of 1 million dollars; judge Reva Towslee-Corbett
did indeed lower it, to 600000 dollars, which of course also is out
of reach.
We
had hoped for an explanation from the State concerning the missing evidence
from the case: among other things Anthony's clothes, the skullcaps that
were used to "demonstrate" that a knife like the one Anthony
owned might have been used in the killings in 1992, and last but not
least a Dr Pepper-bottle that was mentioned in the report from the crime
scene, because on that bottle there were finger-prints that did not
come from Anthony. Who did they come from? In our age of DNA there might
be a lot of things that can be clarified by all this evidence. But it
is still missing, and the prosecutor Patrick Batchelor had no explanation
at all, although he was very lengthy about why the police could not
find it. (He has up to May 1 to find it.) And there was still no definite
date on when the real trial would begin, and where it will take place.
Hopefully we will know more after the next hearing, which will take
place on May 22nd.
No,
you don't have to be superstitious at all to feel a bit spooked by the
whole atmosphere in the court of Caldwell. There is so much, too much
that actually looks like clichés taken out of a movie or a book
about the Old South. The prosecutor in his black rumpled suit (you can
see how it smells), tired explanations in a drawling dialect.
The judge stiff in her heavy make-up (her father was the judge in the
trial where Anthony got the death penalty) assuring that she has read
thoroughly everything that the defense has put forth, and making her
lowering of the bail bond seem like a great sacrifice.
Anthony - this was the first time I have ever seen him out of prison
clothes, now in a nice grey sports jacket and grey pants, a blue shirt
and tie - was predictably not happy, you could see it in his face. His
defense team of Robert Bell, Nicole Casarez and David Mullin, who was
their spokesman (this day Jeff Blackburn was absent for a minor surgery)
was beyond reproach, well prepared and polite (a feat in itself, during
the circumstances) but to no avail.
The only good thing in the court house this day was that the gag order
imposed by the judge had finally, after a verdict in a higher court,
been lifted, so Anthony's attorneys could speak to the press. (Reports
subsequently were printed in the Houston Chronicle, Brenham Banner-Eagle
and the Austin Chronicle - the latter a free magazine in the capital
of Texas.)
The best thing for me this day was that I afterwards had lunch together
with those of Anthony's family that had attended the hearing. There
were those mentioned above; and Anthony's mother Doris Curry, his two
other sons Terence and Alex, and Anthony's aunt Ruby and her husband
John, who live in Houston. This was a good opportunity to present what
Anthony and plan: a book on his case.
Our project
I met Anthony for the first time in the summer of 1999, while he still
was at Ellis One unit outside of Huntsville, and we have been pen-pals
since then. I am a writer by profession, but it was not until some years
later I started writing a book on the Death Penalty in Texas and the
USA. One of the cases discussed in this book - which was published in
Sweden in 2003 - was of course Anthony's. He was an example of how easy
it is to end up on Death Row if you are black and don't have much money
- even if the evidences against you are almost non-existent.
Anthony had for a long time planned to write down his own story of his
arrest and the trial in 1994, when he was sentenced to death. That was
a part of his own defense, and arguments for a new trial. I honestly
did not believe that Anthony would get a new trial, in spite of all
the facts that indicated his innocence. Texas have executed people before,
that never were allowed to present new facts in a court of law. (For
instance Gary Graham/Shaka Sankofa in 2000.) But now there is a real
possibility.
When I obtained his story in an unedited version last year, I suggested
this to Anthony: "You have written well on how it feels to be accused
of something you did not do, about your disbelief and your agony. Why
don't I supply material that is not there, but which is of interest
to many readers, namely how all this affected those close to you, your
sons and your mother, your sisters and brothers? And that I follow the
new trial and what happens afterwards? There is a strong story here:
a man's fight for his life, his family's feelings and experiences -
and the bigger perspective, how you are treated in today's Texas and
the U.S. if you are black and not rich."
I also suggested the following arrangement: all profits from the book
will go to Anthony. I will only expect to get my expenses paid - for
travel and sometimes for car rental and motel stays. I will first make
the book in a Swedish version, but I will also produce an English version,
that we will try to find publishers for in several countries.
Anthony agreed immediately on these terms, and this visit in April that
started on the 13th,
was the first step in my work on the book. During the following weeks
I met most of Anthony's family for a first set of interviews.
"Miss
him so much"
Although I have met several members of Anthony's family previously,
it was not till I sat down to actually interview them that I did realize
the role he had played in their lives. For his
mother Doris, of course:
"When
I think of him now, I remember him coming home hungry, from some game
of baseball. Sports in all forms was and is his great interest. But
even so, he took the time to be the man in the house after the divorce
from his father."
And for his sons. The quiet-spoken Terrell, handicapped by the poor
eyesight that is a result of his sickle-cell disease (a genetic disorder
that affects the blood) has recently became a father himself. The serious-minded
Terence, who works on a farm outside Brenham. Alex, who is the youngest
and a bit giggly, talks about missing his dad especially at this time
in his life: "Now that I have two kids of my own, I understand
what he has gone through by not being able to see us."
Also for his brothers. Derrick, who is a barber and lives just outside
of Austin, says that Anthony was always his great hero: "Everything
he did I would try to do, too. From playing baseball and football, to
dating girls!" Arthur, who lives in Brenham and teaches at the
state school where also Doris works, remembers: "He had us always
washing dishes and cleaning the house to keep it neat!"
But just as much, or more, for his sisters. Demetria, who is a nurse
in Austin, remembers how "he always told me to do my homework,
keep focused on the future, and I would never have got a career of my
own if it hadn't been for what he taught me". Dietrich, who lives
in Brenham talks about how he not only did defend her, but also consoled
her at the lowest points in her life and helped her go on. "I miss
him every day."
"Creepy"
One thing that came back during my conversations with Anthony's family
is also the racism that they detected in his wrongful arrest and sentence.
Remember, Texas and Brenham, where mother Doris and aunt Ruby and their
brothers and sisters was a segregated place where black people were
not allowed to move freely - and this was less than 40 years ago.
All of Anthony's siblings and his sons had experienced racism in today's
Texas. Arthur told how he as a boy was accused of breaking windows just
because he was walking through a white neighborhood. Dietrich told about
the treatment they met with when shopping for clothes just recently
in one of Brenham's stores. Derrick told about how he was passed over,
although he was the more experienced, for the benefit of a white person,
when he worked at Dell computers in Austin. Demetria said that she always
tells her sons to be very extra careful when visiting in Brenham: "Underneath
the peaceful surface, it is really a creepy place."
What these conversations made me realize, is how that the story about
Anthony also must deal with the racism that is not open, like it was
in the bad old days, but that is always there. African Americans are
still treated differently at work, in housing, and in the judicial system,
which can be shown with a wealth of facts and research.
"Let's
make noise"
During my stay I visited Anthony in Caldwell jail as often as possible.
The visitation time is only 20 minutes, on Sundays and Wednesdays, between
14.00-16.00. Although I always was there well before visitation time,
to be among the first in line, I never knew how long I had to wait to
meet with Anthony. The sheriff at the prison wanted to show who was
boss. Anthony and I were both aware that everything we said was being
taped, so our conversations were limited to factual reports about people
I had seen and things he wanted me to do and greetings he asked me to
pass on.
For the last visit I had with Anthony, I was told to wait for one hour
and a half. I tried to swallow my anger, not to be denied a visit altogether,
and went away from the jail to wait outside the court house.
Caldwell, just like Brenham, just like Livingston (outside of which
Polunsky Prison with Death Row is situated) and Huntsville (where Texas
execute people) are all creepy places. Small towns, with antique shops,
gun shops, where you don't see many people in the streets but where
you always feel watched. The silence and peace can be frightening.
So this makes Anthony's message to me (when we finally met!) and to
all his friends out there, all the more important: " We must make
noise about my case. Have the papers write about, write the big TV companies
to tell them what is going on. The best way to win the coming trial
is to keep it in the media, so everyone knows that the prosecutor has
no evidence whatsoever!"
So, let's start writing letters and e-mails and make phone calls!
Lars Åke Augustsson/Sweden
