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Wilbert Rideau (born
February 13, 1942)
was described by
Life magazine in March 1993 as "the most rehabilitated
prisoner in America".
Imprisonment
Rideau was incarcerated in Louisiana State Penitentiary (better
known as Angola Prison) from 1961 to 2000, convicted in three
successive trials by all-white, all-male juries of murdering bank
teller Julia Ferguson in the aftermath of a bank robbery. A fourth
trial in 2005, before a mixed-race jury of ten women and two men,
resulted in a conviction of manslaughter, for which he was
sentenced to 21 years. Since he had already served nearly 44 years,
he was freed immediately.
Legal
history of the case
Rideau’s case, which dates from the pre-Civil
Rights era, is widely studied in law schools for the landmark
decision made by the U.S. Supreme Court concerning pretrial
publicity (Rideau v. Louisiana, 373 U.S. 723 (1963). The Court
overturned Rideau’s 1961 conviction because the local television
station, together with local law enforcement officials, covertly
filmed an “interview” with the teenager and repeatedly broadcast
it, resulting in what the Court called “Kangaroo Court proceedings.”
Rideau was retried in 1964 and 1970, each of those convictions was
also overturned because of constitutional violations. He won a new
trial after 40 years incarceration because black people were
excluded from the 1961 grand jury that indicted him.
Rideau’s case split the Lake
Charles, Louisiana, community along racial lines for four decades,
even to the fourth and final trial in 2005, when white spectators
sat behind the prosecutor’s table and those seated behind the
defense were primarily black.
Although Rideau had always admitted robbing the
Gulf National Bank, fleeing with three employees, and killing
Julia Ferguson, the final trial pitted the prosecution’s 40-year-old
sensational version of events—which held that Rideau lined up his
victims before shooting them and that Ferguson begged for her life—against
the defense’s contention that Rideau reacted impulsively first
when a phone call interrupted the robbery and then when employee
Dora McCain jumped from the car and ran and the other two
employees followed suit, and that the killing was done in panic
rather than premeditatively. The defense debunked the highly
sensational elements in the prosecution’s version to the
satisfaction of the jury.
Childhood
When he was six, his family moved to Lake
Charles, Louisiana (a city about 40 miles from the Texas border on
Interstate 10). He attended the all-black Second Ward Elementary
School. He was born into poverty, and when his parents later
divorced, he became even poorer. He transferred to W.O. Boston
Colored High School when he was in eighth grade and soon started
playing hooky. At 13, he got a job at a grocery store and
eventually stopped going to school.
He had just turned 19 when he committed the
crime that would take him to Angola penitentiary for more than
four decades.
Rideau spent 12 years on death row until the
U.S. Supreme Court in its 1972 Furman v. Georgia ruling abolished
the death penalty as it was then applied. Rideau, like all other
condemned in Louisiana, had his sentence judicially amended to
life imprisonment by the Louisiana Supreme Court.
Prison Journalism
In 1975, the federal court ordered the Angola
prison to be reformed, and the outgoing warden C. Murray Henderson
appointed Rideau editor of The Angolite. The incoming warden, C.
Paul Phelps, ratified the choice and, with a handshake, gave
Rideau freedom from censorship and thus created the nation’s only
uncensored prison publication. The one requirement Phelps put on
Rideau and the inmate staff was that they had to be able to prove
the truth of whatever they published—in other words, they had to
adhere to professional journalism standards.
Rideau became known for his exposés of prison
life and won some of journalism’s most prized awards, including
the Robert F. Kennedy Award, the George Polk Award, and the Sidney
Hillman Award. He was the first prisoner ever to win the American
Bar Association’s Silver Gavel Award. The Angolite was the first
prison publication ever to be nominated for a National Magazine
Award, for which it was nominated seven times. Rideau was credited
with helping bring peace and reform to what had been called “the
bloodiest prison in America” in the 1970s.
He traveled the state as a lecturer accompanied
only by an unarmed guard and was permitted to fly to Washington
D.C., twice, to address the nation’s newspaper editors on the
subject of prison journalism.
Rideau, with former associate-editor of The
Angolite Ron Wikberg and University of Louisiana at Lafayette
Professor Burk Foster, put together a criminal justice textbook
now in its fourth edition and still in use today in Louisiana.
Rideau and Wikberg also collaborated on Life Sentences, a 1992
anthology of articles from The Angolite, now out of print. Rideau
and Wikberg, for their journalism, were named “Person of the Week”
on Peter Jennings’ World News Tonight in August 1992.
In the 1990s, Rideau branched out into radio,
television, and documentary film making, becoming a correspondent
for National Public Radio, producing a segment for ABC-TV’s
newsmagazine “Day One”; pairing up with radio documentarian Dave
Isay for “Tossing Away the Keys,” and helping to create and
produce two films, “Final Judgment: The Execution of Antonio
James” and “The Farm,” which was nominated for an Academy Award.
Clemency efforts
Rideau was an exemplary prisoner,
and because nearly all other surviving prisoners convicted of
murder in the same time period in Louisiana had been released, his
inability to get clemency became another controversy. Governor
Edwin Edwards, it was revealed by ABC-TV “20/20”, made a secret
promise to surviving bank teller Dora McCain that he would never
release Rideau, although he believed him to be fully rehabilitated
and although he had released hundreds of others convicted of
murder and manslaughter.
Freedom
In December 2000, the Fifth Circuit Court of
Appeals in New Orleans threw out Rideau’s 1970 murder conviction
because of racial discrimination in the grand jury process in
Calcasieu Parish, Louisiana. To the surprise of many outside of
the area, the Calcasieu Parish prosecutor decided to try Rideau
for a fourth time. He was re-indicted in July of 2001, and freed
in 2005 by a jury verdict. Whereas he had been represented by
local court-appointed attorneys in his first three trials, his
defense team in 2005 included criminal defense icon Johnnie
Cochran, nationally renowned civil rights attorney George Kendall,
and famed New Orleans defense attorney Julian Murray, who all
worked on the case for free.
As with every American trial, this one had to
be prosecuted under the laws that were in effect at the time of
the crime: 1961. The jury was free to convict Rideau of murder –
the state elected to prosecute under the “specific intent” rather
than the “felony murder” doctrine of the 1961 statute – or
manslaughter, which in Louisiana is any homicide that would
otherwise be murder if it is either committed without specific
intent to harm an individual, or if it is committed in the heat of
passion such as the panic the defense argued Rideau was in.
Shortly after Rideau’s release, Judge David
Ritchie, who had declared Rideau indigent at trial, ordered him to
pay over $127,000 to the court to cover the cost of the trial that
freed him. This order was overturned by the Louisiana Court of
Appeals for the Third Circuit.
Wikipedia.org
Wilbert Rideau (born February 13, 1942)
was described by Life magazine in March 1993 as "the most
rehabilitated prisoner in America". Rideau was incarcerated in
Louisiana State Penitentiary (better known as Angola Prison) from
1961 to 2000, convicted of murder three times before a fourth
trial in 2005 convicted him of manslaughter, allowing time already
served to fulfil his sentence.
In 1976, Rideau became editor of the prison
magazine, The Angolite, which he developed into a
professional, award-winning bimonthly magazine. He is also known
for helping to produce a number of award-winning documentary films,
including The Farm, a film about Angola Prison that was
nominated for an Academy Award for Documentary Feature and which
won best documentary at the Sundance Film Festival in 1998.
When he was six, his family moved to Lake
Charles, Louisiana (a city about 40 miles from the Texas border on
Interstate 10). He attended the all-black Second Ward Elementary
School. He was born into poverty, and when his parents later
divorced, he became even poorer. He transferred to W.O. Boston
Colored High School when he was in eighth grade and soon started
playing hooky, shooting dice, and vandalizing tombs in a cemetery.
Then he started selling cigarettes, three for a nickel. At 13, he
got a job at a grocery store by pretending to be 16 and eventually
stopped going to school.
According to trial testimony, on February 16,
1961, Rideau, then 19 years old, robbed $14,000 from the Gulf
National Bank, kidnapped three bank employees — tellers Dora
McCain and Julia Ferguson and manager Jay Hickman — and forced
them into Ferguson's car, directing her to drive out of town.
After Hickman tried to escape as Ferguson slowed the car to
determine where she was, Rideau exited the car and chased Hickman.
Rideau shot him, then shot McCain and Ferguson as they also tried
to flee the car. Hickman hid in a nearby bayou, and McCain feigned
death, but Rideau found Ferguson alive, stabbed her in the heart,
and allegedly slit her throat (although the 2005 trial would
dispute this, with defense witness Dr. Werner Spitz noting that
autopsy pictures showed the cut was only an inch long and more
likely a tracheotomy).
Rideau was convicted and sentenced to death by
an all-white, all-male jury. While in parish jail and on death row,
Rideau began to read books smuggled in to him by guards and began
to write, starting with writing letters for fellow inmates in
exchange for cigarettes or money. He also began corresponding with
Clover Swann, an editor at the New York Times.
Later, the United States Supreme Court
overturned his conviction in Rideau v. Louisiana, 373 U.S.
723 (1963) on the basis that a secretly taped interrogation
session was aired repeatedly on the local television station KPLC-TV's
evening news, resulting in a biased jury pool and a "kangaroo
court." A second trial in 1964, again by an all-white male jury,
reached the same result, but in 1969, a federal appeals court
overturned this conviction as well: the prosecution had removed
numerous qualified jurors because of their hesitancy to impose the
death penalty.
In 1970 he was retried — again by an all-white,
all-male jury — and again with the same result. The death sentence
was overturned in 1973 by the Louisiana Supreme Court, in accord
with the United States Supreme Court case Furman v. Georgia,
which had voided all death penalty statutes then extant in the U.S.,
but let the conviction stand. Rideau asked to be transferred to
The Angolite prison magazine's all-white staff and, when that
was refused, started a prison magazine called The Lifer
with an all-black staff. He started writing a column called "The
Jungle" for black newspapers in the South.
In 1975, the federal court ordered the Angola
prison to be reformed, the outgoing warden C. Murray Henderson
appointed Rideau editor of The Angolite. The incoming
warden, C. Paul Phelps, ratified the choice and made it so that
The Angolite had to be held to the same standards as any
respected publication. Rideau brought on two co-editors, Tom Mason
and Ron Wikberg, and Billy Wayne Sinclair in 1978. Soon, the
magazine transformed from a mimeographed newsletter into a glossy
magazine, and it started winning awards.
In the 1980s, four pardon boards unsuccessfully
recommended Rideau for release; he has been an exemplary prisoner,
and nearly all other surviving prisoners convicted of murder in
the same time period in Louisiana have been released.
In 1988, Loyola University of New Orleans'
Twomey Center for Peace Through Justice established the Rideau
Project. The purpose of the project was to obtain freedom for
Rideau.
Rideau became a sought-after lecturer. In 1991,
he, along with Wikberg and University of Louisiana at Lafayette
Professor Burk Foster, wrote a criminal justice textbook.
In the December 2000 case of Rideau v.
Louisiana, the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans
threw out the 1970 conviction on the basis that "purposeful"
racial discrimination tainted the grand jury process. The case
returned to Calcasieu Parish, which, to the surprise of many
outside of the area, decided to try Rideau for a fourth time. He
was re-indicted in July of 2001.
After much legal maneuvering, that trial took
place in January 2005 in Lake Charles, Louisiana in the court of
Louisiana 14th Judicial District Judge David Ritchie. Jury
selection began January 3, 2005 in Monroe, Louisiana rather than
Lake Charles, because finding an unbiased jury in Lake Charles at
this point was ruled an impossibility. The prosecution was led by
District Attorney Rick Bryant. The defense team included
nationally-recognized defense attorney Johnnie Cochran and famed
New Orleans defense attorney Julian Murray.
In a key victory in the trial for the defense,
the only two verdicts Judge Ritchie allowed were on the 1961
definitions of murder — a premeditated killing with a sentence of
life imprisonment without parole — and manslaughter, which carried
a 21-year sentence. By 2005's standards, the killing would have
fallen under Louisiana's second-degree murder offense, as Rideau
killed while committing another crime, but no distinction between
first- and second-degree murder was made in the trial.
On January 15, 2005, Rideau was convicted of
manslaughter by a jury of seven whites, four blacks and a person
of mixed race after nearly six hours of deliberation, and with
credit for 44 years served was quickly released from the Calcasieu
Correctional Center.
He quickly left the Center in a waiting car and
traveled to a small hotel, which happened to be on the same street
where he killed Ferguson, before travelling to Baton Rouge,
Louisiana, where he gave his first full interview as a free man to
the Associated Press. Twomey Center legal researcher Linda
LaBranche said the move was in fear for his safety. Julian Murray
said Rideau had been sent threatening e-mails, which he dismissed
as the work of "kooks." In interviews, Rideau's family had
expressed surprise that Rideau had already made extensive plans
for his freedom and was quickly acting on them.
The Legal Case: 1961 - 2001
WilbertRideau.com
On February 16, 1961, 19-year-old Wilbert
Rideau was arrested in connection with the killing of white female
teller Julia Ferguson in the aftermath of a bank robbery in which
two other white bank employees were wounded.
Calcasieu Parish Sheriff "Ham" Reid instructed
the arresting officers to meet him 11 miles outside of town so
that he himself could bring in the teenager. The public was kept
abreast of developments through news bulletins aired on local
radio and television. By the time Ham Reid reached the courthouse
in Lake Charles, a white mob had gathered out front. To
elude the angry crowd, he had to sneak Wilbert in through the back
door.
The young black suspect was not asked if he
wanted a lawyer or told that he had a right to an attorney. He was
not allowed to see anyone, not even his mother, who had gone to
the jail for that purpose. Sheriff Ham Reid held Wilbert
incommunicado until he could arrange for the local television
station to secretly film him "interviewing" the teenager. Flanked
by two state troopers, the sheriff described the crime by posing
leading questions to the young suspect, who mumbled answers in
agreement. This spectacle, which has widely been called Wilbert
Rideau's "confession," was televised to the Calcasieu Parish
community for three days running on KPLC-TV.
At just this time, Louisiana was waging a war
with the federal government to prevent integration of the public
schools. White parents kept their children out of school in
protest; the state legislature passed a bill to abolish public
education and to sell the school buildings rather than integrate.
Racial tensions were at an all time high.
Sheriff Reid's televised "interview" further
inflamed the community. Wilbert's family was harassed by callers
who promised to "give him the rope if he doesn't get the chair."
White men, who sat drinking in parked cars across the street from
the Rideau home in an all-black neighborhood, shook their fists
and hurled insults at the household.
Wilbert Rideau was indicted on March 1, 1961,
by a grand jury selected from a pool hand-picked by five white
jury commissioners who sat around a table and thumbed through
race-coded cards they'd made up for that purpose. The only
African American picked for that jury pool was a yardman who
worked for one of the commissioners.
After he was indicted and arraigned, the court
appointed two attorneys engaged in the practice of civil law to
represent the black teenager. Neither had ever handled a
criminal case. They were given less than six weeks to prepare
for trial. They asked that the trial be moved away from Calcasieu
Parish because of the sheriff's "interview," which had been
broadcast repeatedly to an enraged community. They argued that the
entire community was prejudiced by the inflammatory publicity. The
court refused to move the trial.
The trial courtroom was standing-room-only.
Space usually reserved for attorneys was roped off for additional
spectators. Nearly 450 white people crammed themselves into a
courtroom designed to hold 300. They stood against the walls and
in the aisles, and overflowed into the corridor. An all-white,
all-male trial jury was picked. The judge refused to
disqualify persons who were friends or relatives of the victim or
the witnesses. He refused to disqualify a man who had only months
before printed campaign literature for the prosecutor. The defense
quickly used up its allotted challenges. As a result, the jury
included two Calcasieu Parish sheriff's deputies, a relative of
the victim, a vice president of the largest bank in the area (who
had known the wounded bank manager-a key witness for the state-for
twenty-five years), and three persons who admitted they saw Ham
Reid "interviewing" Wilbert on television.
It's not clear from court records whose
decision it was not to make a trial transcript. The reason
given was that the Rideau family was indigent and could not pay
for it. The two civil lawyers handling the defense were not aware
that no transcript was being made until jury selection was well
underway because the court stenographer sat in her place, as
usual, even though she was not recording the proceedings. As the
trial continued, the lawyers laboriously made longhand notes of
their objections. Had they not, there would have been no record at
all upon which to appeal the jury's verdict.
Wilbert's lawyers did not cross examine the
key witnesses against him, challenge evidence, or present a
defense. As soon as the state finished presenting its case, the
defense rested. The jury retired for an hour and Wilbert was
convicted of murder, which carried a mandatory sentence of death.
In 1963, the United States Supreme Court
called Sheriff Ham Reid's televised interview of Wilbert Rideau a
"spectacle." Justice Stewart, writing for the Court, called what
happened in Calcasieu Parish "kangaroo court proceedings"
that rendered any subsequent trial in a courtroom "a hollow
formality." The Court threw out the murder conviction and said
Wilbert could not be tried anywhere within the reach of KPLC-TV. [Rideau
v. Louisiana, 373 US 723 (1963).]
In 1963, Louisiana law only permitted trials to
be moved to an adjoining judicial district and no further. Because
all the adjoining judicial districts fell within the broadcast
range of KPLC-TV, the trial judge declared a judicial impasse,
saying Wilbert could not be retried. The district attorney
appealed to the Louisiana Supreme Court, which basically
suspended state law so that a retrial could go forward.
The district attorney insisted upon moving the
1964 retrial to Baton Rouge. The defense strenuously objected,
both because KPLC-TV could be received in Baton Rouge and because
there had been massive newspaper coverage of the case. Their
objections were to no avail. During jury selection, the Baton
Rouge DA, who was assisting the Calcasieu prosecutor, nonchalantly
admitted that he was a member of the Citizens' Council, the
genteel counterpart of the Ku Klux Klan. The second trial went
pretty much the same as the first. A second all-white, all-male
jury spent 15 minutes deliberating before convicting Wilbert
of murder again.
That murder conviction was thrown out by a
federal court in 1969. There was another trial in Baton Rouge in
1970. A third all-white, all-male jury "deliberated" for eight
minutes before convicting Wilbert of murder. He was moved back to
Death Row at Angola.
In 1972, the U.S. Supreme Court vacated all
death sentences across America, saying that the way the death
penalty was applied was capricious and unconstitutional. (Furman
v. Georgia, 408 US 238.) Louisiana, instead of retrying those
on Death Row, resentenced them to Life in prison. In May 1973,
Wilbert Rideau was put into the general population of prisoners at
Angola, which at that time was one of the most dangerous prisons
in the country. Inmate cliques, sexual enslavement, and rifle-toting
convict guards made violence a fact of daily life.
At this time, Louisiana had what was known as
the "10-6" life sentence, meaning that lifers with clean conduct
records were eligible for release after serving 10 years and six
months. It was virtually automatic. Mr. Rideau had a spotless
conduct record and a "10-6" date that had passed in mid-1971. He
applied for a commutation of his sentence in 1974 and was turned
down by the pardon board. The same thing happened in 1976. In
1979, according to the New York Times Magazine (11/18/80),
Governor Edwin Edwards phoned a member of the pardon board
known to favor clemency for Mr. Rideau and asked him to vote
against the inmate, who had by now become a high-profile, award-winning
journalist.
In 1984, 1986, 1988, and 1990, pardon boards
recommended commuting Mr. Rideau's sentence so he could be
released. A 1989 ABC-TV "20/20" investigation discovered that
Edwin Edwards made a secret promise during an election
campaign to the bank teller who had been wounded, saying that he
would never release Wilbert Rideau, no matter what.
Governor Buddy Roemer denied clemency to Mr.
Rideau in 1988 and 1990. In 1989, "20/20" asked him what more
Wilbert Rideau could possibly do to "earn" clemency. This is what
he said: "His only chance to overcome what he did is what he might
propose he could do so that those kinds of crimes
would happen less in the future, not more. Only he
can address that." It was impossible for anyone familiar with Mr.
Rideau's case to understand what Governor Roemer might have meant.
Mr. Rideau had already spent more than a decade working with
judges to deter kids from a life of crime.
In 1994, Wilbert Rideau filed a petition of
habeas corpus in the U. S. Middle District Court for Louisiana,
alleging racial discrimination in the way his grand jury was
selected because the white commissioners used race-coded cards to
pick anyone they wanted to sit on the grand jury panels. The case
was assigned to a magistrate, who recommended in 1997 that the
habeas be granted. In 1999, the chief judge overruled the
magistrate and denied the habeas. On December 22, 2000, the 5th
Circuit Court of Appeals in New Orleans overruled the Middle
District judge, ruling that the state of Louisiana must retry
Wilbert Rideau a fourth time or release him.
In 1988, the Shreveport Journal's editorial
board wrote: "Numerous corrections officials - from every warden
at Angola who has worked with Rideau to former Secretary of
Corrections C. Paul Phelps - have said that if there is any
prisoner in America who has been rehabilitated it is Wilbert
Rideau, and that he is no threat to society. ... The average
length of incarceration for a convicted murderer in the United
States is roughly seven years. Rideau has served [many] times that
long. This is a mockery of the corrections system because Rideau
has done everything the judicial system asked of him and much
more. ... His continued incarceration despite universal
agreement of his rehabilitation is a black mark on the state's
judicial system."
Now, the district attorney of Calcasieu Parish
is saying he will retry Wilbert Rideau, who has already spent 40
years in prison - longer than any offender in the history of
Calcasieu Parish.
Freed After 44
Years, a Prison Journalist Looks Back and Ahead
By Adam Liptack -
The New York Times
January 17, 2005
Wilbert Rideau, an
acclaimed prison journalist and confessed killer, walked out of
the Calcasieu Parish Courthouse in Lake Charles, La., a free man
on Saturday night after serving 44 years for stabbing a bank
teller through the heart in 1961.
In Mr. Rideau's fourth
trial for the killing, a jury on Saturday found him not guilty of
murder, which would have resulted in a life sentence. Instead, the
jury convicted him of manslaughter, which carries a maximum
sentence of 21 years, effectively freeing him.
In an interview yesterday,
Mr. Rideau, 62, said he had wasted no time in leaving Lake
Charles, a racially divided city near the Texas border that
remains fiercely split about whether he has paid his debt for the
killing or whether he should have been executed long ago.
"The first thing I did
when we left Lake Charles was stop and get some sun shades," Mr.
Rideau said cheerfully over the phone, suggesting that he needed
to disguise himself. "I should get a baseball cap, too."
Three all-white juries
sentenced him to death for the killing in 1961, 1964 and 1970. All
three convictions were overturned by appeals courts for government
misconduct. The last conviction was thrown out in 2000 when a
federal appeals court ruled that the exclusion of blacks from the
grand jury that indicted Mr. Rideau was unconstitutional.
"The first trial, I think,
the decision was in eight minutes," said Mr. Rideau, who is black.
"This time, we had only one white male."
The latest jury, which
also contained seven white women, two black women, a woman of
mixed race and a black man, was from Monroe, in northern Louisiana,
in deference to the tensions in Lake Charles.
"They came from one of the
most conservative regions of Louisiana," Mr. Rideau said. "We had
some nervousness about that. These things happened 44 years ago,
before many of them were even born."
This time, the jury
deliberated for five and a half hours, returning with a verdict at
10:40 on Saturday night.
Rick Bryant, the Calcasieu
Parish district attorney, said the jury had ignored the evidence.
"The verdict makes no
sense," he said yesterday. "It's a subtle jury-nullification type
of thing. The jury basically said, there is still a conviction and
he's done a lot of time."
Mr. Rideau has never
denied that he robbed a Gulf National Bank branch in Lake Charles
on Feb. 16, 1961, that he kidnapped three white employees of the
bank or that he shot them on a gravel lane near a bayou on the
edge of town. Two of the employees survived, one by jumping into
the swamp, the other by feigning death. But Mr. Rideau caught and
killed Julia Ferguson, a teller, stabbing in her in the heart.
The two sides at the trial
last week agreed on those basic facts. They differed about whether
the killing was part of a calculated plan or the result of a bank
robbery gone awry committed by a hapless 19-year-old.
"I've been saying for 44
years that, yes, I'm responsible," Mr. Rideau said yesterday. "But
it didn't happen the way they said it. They said I lined them up
execution-style. The evidence never supported that. Between the
local media and the legal system, though, they pretty much did
what they wanted. A lot of what the community thought, through
hand-me-down word of mouth, never really happened."
Mr. Rideau testified in
his own defense, a potentially risky move given his acknowledged
responsibility for the crime. But George H. Kendall, one of Mr.
Rideau's lawyers, said the testimony was crucial.
"The state's narrative was
a very simple, understandable narrative," Mr. Kendall said. "We
had to have an alternative narrative, and the only way we could
get that out was through our client."
Mr. Rideau said his
initial plan was to lock up the employees at the bank and take a
bus out of town with the $14,000 he had stolen. When that was
foiled by an ill-timed phone call from the bank's main branch, he
said, he came up with a second plan. He would drive the employees
far out of town in a teller's car and escape as they walked back.
But they jumped from the car before he could accomplish that, and
he started shooting.
"If I had intended to kill
those people, eliminate witnesses, I would have done it right
there in the bank," Mr. Rideau testified on Thursday, according to
The Associated Press. "It never entered my mind that I was going
to hurt anybody."
Theodore M. Shaw, the
director-counsel of the N.A.A.C.P. Legal Defense and Educational
Fund, which also represented Mr. Rideau, said he found it hard to
reconcile Mr. Rideau's crime with the thoughtful and accomplished
man he has become.
"I've never lost sight of
the fact that when Wilbert was 19 he did something incredibly
stupid and tragic," Mr. Shaw said. "On the other hand, he's not
the man he was then. It's a story of redemption."
Mr. Shaw pointed to Mr.
Rideau's journalistic work as proof of his transformation. As
editor of The Angolite, a prison newspaper, Mr. Rideau won the
George Polk Award, one of journalism's highest honors. "The Farm:
Angola, U.S.A.," a documentary he co-directed, was nominated for
an Academy Award.
Mr. Bryant, the prosecutor,
said Mr. Rideau's achievements were irrelevant. "Rideau's actions
were driven by greed," Mr. Bryant said, referring to the robbery.
"It's not like he's been some sort of civil rights pioneer. He's a
crook."
Mr. Bryant said the
prosecution had been at a disadvantage throughout the trial.
"It's very difficult to
try a case that's 44 years old," he said. "We had 13 witnesses who
were unavailable, including the two eyewitnesses, and we had to
present them by reading transcripts." One of the survivors of the
crime died in 1988, and the other was too ill to attend the trial.
Mr. Rideau said yesterday
that he had not dared make plans for what he would do as a free
man. The pardon board recommended clemency four times, he said,
but governors rejected each recommendation.
"When you've been turned
down and ridden that hope train for so long and keep getting
knocked back," he said, "you stop making plans."
He declined to say where
he planned to live. "Undisclosed location," he said.
Then he started to collect
his thoughts.
"I'll be 63 in about three
more weeks," he said. "I'm walking around in sweatpants. Most
people my age are retired, and I have no health insurance, no
pension, no Social Security. I've got to start producing. I've got
to get a job. I'd like to write. I've got so much to say. I'm
going to continue, to the extent that I can, to be a journalist."
Justice Prevails In Louisiana: Rideau Is Free
Naacpldf.org
January 15, 2005
(Lake Charles, LA) Wilbert Rideau, acclaimed as America's most
rehabilitated prisoner, walked out of a Lake Charles, Calcasieu
Parish jail today, a free man after 44 years of incarceration and
four trials for killing a white female bank teller in 1961. The
verdict was delivered by a jury of ten women and two men (four of
whom were Black) selected and transported to Lake Charles for the
trial from the Northeastern Louisiana city of Monroe (because of
intense pre-trial publicity in Lake Charles). All three previous
death sentence convictions were delivered by all-white, all-male
juries from Calcasieu Parish, and overturned by federal courts as
unconstitutional.
"This was not a case about innocence," said Theodore M. Shaw,
Director-Counsel and President of the NAACP Legal Defense and
Educational Fund, Inc. (LDF). "It was about fairness and
redemption--fairness, because even the guilty are entitled to a
trial untainted by racial discrimination and misconduct, and
redemption, because in a real sense the teenager who committed the
tragic crime died while incarcerated for 44 years and was reborn
as the man who paid the price and struggled for redemption.
Wilbert Rideau's case goes to the core of the nature of our
criminal justice system--to issues of fairness, punishment and
rehabilitation."
LDF has represented Rideau since 1998 and won the December 2000
ruling by a federal appeals court, which found that purposeful
racial discrimination had tainted the grand jury process for his
third trial. The State of Louisiana was ordered either to free
Rideau or retry him in a constitutional manner. It opted to retry
him for a fourth time.
"We are overjoyed that this jury finally saw the truth in this
case and issued a just verdict that was responsive to the facts
and embodied the reality of what happened on February 16, 1961,"
said LDF Assistant Counsel Vanita Gupta.
Upon his release, an emotional Rideau expressed "remorse and deep
sympathy to the families of the victims and the community of
Calcasieu for their suffering," regrets that he has not been
allowed to personally deliver for the past four decades.
Rideau was 19 years old at the time he was convicted and sentenced
to death by an all-white male jury for the 1961 killing of a white
female bank teller following a bank robbery, a crime that he has
never denied committing. The United States Supreme Court
overturned his conviction, calling the trial proceedings a
kangaroo court because the trial court refused to move the trial
after the sheriff allowed a local television station to secretly
record an interrogation session and repeatedly air the tape on the
evening news. The local news station in the months leading up to
this trial again repeatedly broadcast the same tape.
In 1969, a federal court overturned a second conviction and death
sentence returned by an all-white male jury because the
prosecution unnecessarily removed numerous qualified jurors who
said they would be hesitant --- but not completely unwilling ---
to impose the death penalty. In 1973, Rideau's third death
sentence, from his 1970 retrial, was overturned by the Louisiana
Supreme Court after the U.S. Supreme Court had struck down the
death penalty as then administered in this country, in Furman v.
Georgia, a case won by LDF attorneys.
While incarcerated in one of America's toughest prisons, Rideau
educated himself, and became an award-winning journalist,
documentary filmmaker, and model prisoner. For 25 years he was the
editor of the Angolite, the official news magazine of the
Louisiana State Penitentiary, where he earned it a national
reputation. In 1993, Life Magazine declared Rideau "The Most
Rehabilitated Prisoner in America." He was often released by
Louisiana prison officials to participate in public discussions
and even appeared on national television with the late U.S. Chief
Justice Warren Burger.
"We felt a great sense of responsibility in this case because had
we lost and Rideau returned to prison, the inescapable message to
those incarcerated was that whatever you do, it doesn't matter,"
said George Kendall, lead counsel from the New York law firm
Holland and Knight. "We thought that if we could free Rideau, it
would provide hope for those in prison who genuinely work to
redeem themselves."
In the time that Rideau has been incarcerated, more than 700 other
prisoners convicted of murder have been released from Angola State
Prison. Many did not serve as much as 20 years in prison, and only
a handful has served more than 30.
Today's jury found Rideau guilty of manslaughter and not murder,
which permitted his immediate release for time served. The maximum
sentence for a manslaughter conviction in Louisiana is 21 years. A
murder conviction would have allowed the State to continue his
incarceration for the rest of his life.
Rideau was represented at trial by former LDF Assistant Counsel
George Kendall, now with Holland and Knight; Julian Murray, one of
Louisiana's top defense attorneys; Ron Ware, local counsel and
Calcasieu Parish's public defender; LDF Assistant Counsel Vanita
Gupta; and Parisa Dehghani-Tafti of Holland and Knight. LDF board
member Johnnie Cochran, Jr. was also counsel on the case.
With Little
Evidence, 4th Trial Opens in '61 Killing
By Adam Liptack - The New
York Times
January 11, 2005
LAKE CHARLES, La., Jan. 10
- Wilbert Rideau went on trial on Monday for the fourth time for a
killing that has already cost him 44 years in prison.
All-white, all-male juries
convicted him of murder and sentenced him to death in 1961, 1964
and 1970. Each time, appeals courts eventually threw out the
verdicts, citing misconduct by the government.
Now, prosecutors are
trying once again to obtain a conviction against Mr. Rideau, one
that will stick.
But the passage of almost
half a century presents difficulties. So many of the original
witnesses are dead, for instance, that prosecutors have asked
stand-ins to play the part of 13 witnesses, reading their original
testimony to the jury.
Rick Bryant, the district
attorney here, addressed the jurors on Monday with a version of
events that is largely undisputed. "Most of you sitting here today
probably weren't even born in February 1961," he said.
Mr. Rideau, then a 19-year-old
black porter at Halpern's Fabric Shop, walked a few buildings over
to the Gulf National Bank and robbed it of $14,000 on Feb. 16 of
that year. He forced three of the bank's employees, all white,
into a teller's sedan.
They drove to a gravel
lane near a bayou on the edge of town, where Mr. Rideau shot all
three of them. Jay Hickman, the bank's manager, took a bullet in
the arm but managed to escape by jumping into the swamp. Dora
McCain, a teller, was shot in the neck and lay still, feigning
death. But Mr. Rideau caught another teller, Julia Ferguson. He
stabbed her in the heart and slit her throat.
Almost nothing tangible
remains of those events so long ago. The fabric shop is gone; so
is the bank. The gravel lane is now an on-ramp to Interstate 10.
Much of the evidence is lost, and most witnesses are dead.
Mr. Rideau, now 62, is
transformed, too. He has, from prison, become an acclaimed
journalist and documentary filmmaker.
But the community's rage
lives on in this racially divided oil and gambling town near the
Texas border. "It's ferocious, the way we hold on to this episode,"
said the Rev. J. L. Franklin, a black pastor, who had come to the
courthouse to see the State of Louisiana make its case.
Mr. Rideau has never
denied killing Ms. Ferguson. Many whites here say he should have
been executed long ago. Many blacks say Mr. Rideau has paid his
debt many times over and would have been released years ago had
his victims not been white and had he not achieved a measure of
fame in the meantime. Until the 1970's, people sentenced to life
in Louisiana - which is what prosecutors now seek for Mr. Rideau -
were generally released after serving 10 years and 6 months.
On Monday, the jury heard
from Mr. Hickman, the bank manager, but only in a sense: he died
in 1988. A local radio announcer, Gary Shannon, stood in for him.
"Mr. Shannon will be
playing the part of Mr. Hickman," Judge David Ritchie told the
jury, as though announcing an understudy.
Reading from the 1970
trial transcript, Mr. Bryant asked the questions, and Mr. Shannon
answered, in a deep, rich voice. The exchange had the quality of a
book on tape or a radio drama, and was strangely compelling.
Mr. Shannon explained why
the three employees had not tried to flee as they drove slowly
through town.
"We believed him when he
said cooperation would get us free," Mr. Shannon said, quoting Mr.
Hickman. "It was more a hope than a belief. It was more of a hope.
You cling to hope."
Jurors could not gauge Mr.
Hickman's credibility through Mr. Shannon, and Mr. Rideau's
current lawyers could not cross-examine him.
The reading of earlier
testimony from an unavailable witness or two at a later trial is
not particularly unusual, and the law allows it so long as there
was an opportunity to cross-examine when the original testimony
was taken. But Mr. Rideau's trial may set some sort of record,
because Mr. Bryant said in his opening statement that he intended
to present 13 witnesses that way.
Mr. Bryant is not seeking
the death penalty this time. But he does not want Mr. Rideau ever
to taste freedom, either.
"That man," he said during
his opening statement, "committed the murder of Julia Ferguson."
Mr. Rideau, wiry, wary and very alert, looked on attentively.
The jury that Mr. Bryant
addressed is roughly representative of Calcasieu Parish's racial
mix - eight whites, three blacks and a woman of mixed race - but
it is not from here. Jurors were selected last week in Monroe, in
northern Louisiana, in deference to the passions the case
continues to arouse.
The defense strategy is
complex. Appeals courts have turned back efforts to have the case
dismissed outright, rejecting defense arguments contending stale
evidence, double jeopardy and prosecutorial vindictiveness.
The jury is not meant to
hear about the earlier trials. In small and subtle ways, Mr.
Rideau's lawyers will try to suggest that prosecutors have the
wrong man - not in the usual sense, but in that Mr. Rideau, they
say, has changed so completely that he bears little resemblance to
the hapless teenage bank robber.
As editor of The Angolite,
a prison newspaper, Mr. Rideau has won the George Polk Award, one
of journalism's highest honors. A documentary that he co-directed
was nominated for an Academy Award. He has been a correspondent
for National Public Radio and has appeared on ABC's "Nightline" to
discuss criminal justice with Chief Justice Warren Burger of the
Supreme Court.
For a time, he made
hundreds of public appearances to talk about the criminal justice
system, often accompanied by a single unarmed guard. Four pardon
boards have recommended clemency, but governors have rejected each
recommendation.
Judge Ritchie has
indicated that he will exclude most of that evidence. Still, said
Stuart P. Green, a law professor at Louisiana State University in
Baton Rouge, the essence of Mr. Rideau's defense will be to ask
the jury to ignore the law "through some kind of jury
nullification."
Mr. Rideau's lawyers must
walk a fine line. One of them, George H. Kendall, a lawyer with
Holland & Knight in New York, made a series of concessions on
Monday morning. "Let me tell you right now," he said, "Mr. Rideau
is responsible for the death of Julia Ferguson."
Mr. Kendall took issue
with only a few details in the prosecution's version of events. Mr.
Rideau shot the bank employees as they fled, not after lining them
up, he said. And Mr. Kendall disputed something Ms. McCain said
she heard Mr. Rideau say moments before he slit Ms. Ferguson's
throat.
"Don't worry," Mr. Rideau
said to Ms. Ferguson as she pleaded for her life, according to Ms.
McCain's testimony at the 1970 trial. "It'll be cool and quick."
Ms. McCain is alive but is
apparently too ill to testify. Her earlier testimony will probably
be read to the jury, lawyers involved in the case said."This crime
occurred a long time ago, in a different time," Mr. Kendall told
the jury.
He urged the jury to
convict his client of manslaughter, not murder, saying that Mr.
Rideau's acts were those of a rash teenager caught up in a bank
robbery gone wrong, not of a premeditated murderer. He did not
tell them that the maximum term for manslaughter in 1961 was 21
years. A manslaughter conviction would almost certainly mean his
client's prompt release.
U.S. Supreme Court
RIDEAU v. LOUISIANA, 373 U.S. 723 (1963)
373 U.S. 723
RIDEAU v. LOUISIANA.
CERTIORARI TO THE SUPREME COURT OF
LOUISIANA.
No. 630.
Argued April 29, 1963.
Decided June 3, 1963.
A few hours after a man
robbed a bank in Lake Charles, La., kidnapped three of the bank's
employees and killed one of them, petitioner was arrested and
lodged in the Parish Jail. The next morning a motion picture film
with a sound track was made of an "interview" in the Jail between
petitioner and the Sheriff of the Parish. This "interview" lasted
approximately 20 minutes and consisted of interrogation by the
Sheriff and admissions by petitioner that he had perpetrated the
bank robbery, kidnapping, and murder. Later the same day and on
the succeeding two days, the filmed "interview" was broadcast over
the local television station and was seen and heard by many people
in the Parish. Subsequently, petitioner was arraigned on charges
of armed robbery, kidnapping, and murder, and two lawyers were
appointed to represent him. They promptly filed a motion for
change of venue; but this was denied and petitioner was convicted
in the trial court of the Parish and sentenced to death on the
murder charge. Held: It was a denial of due process of law to
refuse the request for a change of venue after the people of the
Parish had been exposed repeatedly and in depth to the spectacle
of the petitioner personally confessing in detail to the crimes
with which he was later to be charged. Pp. 723-727.
242 La. 431, 137 So.2d
283, reversed.
Fred H. Sievert, Jr.
argued the cause and filed a brief for petitioner.
Frank Salter argued the
cause for respondent. With him on the brief were Jack P. F.
Gremillion, Attorney General of Louisiana, and Robert S. Link, Jr.,
John E. Jackson, Jr. and M. E. Culligan, Assistant Attorneys
General.
MR. JUSTICE STEWART
delivered the opinion of the Court.
On the evening of February
16, 1961, a man robbed a bank in Lake Charles, Louisiana,
kidnapped three of the bank's employees, and killed one of them. A
few hours later the petitioner, Wilbert Rideau, was apprehended by
the police and lodged in the Calcasieu Parish jail in Lake
Charles. The next morning a moving picture film with a sound track
was made of an "interview" in the jail between Rideau and the
Sheriff of Calcasieu Parish. This "interview" lasted approximately
20 minutes. It consisted of interrogation by the sheriff and
admissions by Rideau that he had perpetrated the bank robbery,
kidnapping, and murder. Later the same day the filmed "interview"
was broadcast over a television station in Lake Charles, and some
24,000 people in the community saw and heard it on television. The
sound film was again shown on television the next day to an
estimated audience of 53,000 people. The following day the film
was again broadcast by the same television station, and this time
approximately 29,000 people saw and heard the "interview" on their
television sets. Calcasieu Parish has a population of
approximately 150,000 people.
Some two weeks later,
Rideau was arraigned on charges of armed robbery, kidnapping, and
murder, and two lawyers were appointed to represent him. His
lawyers promptly filed a motion for a change of venue, on the
ground that it would deprive Rideau of rights guaranteed to him by
the United States Constitution to force him to trial in Calcasieu
Parish after the three television broadcasts there of his "interview"
with the sheriff. 1 After a hearing,
the motion for change of venue was denied, and Rideau was
accordingly convicted and sentenced to death on the murder charge
in the Calcasieu Parish trial court.
Three members of the jury
which convicted him had stated on voir dire that they had seen and
heard Rideau's televised "interview" with the sheriff on at least
one occasion. Two members of the jury were deputy sheriffs of
Calcasieu Parish. Rideau's counsel had requested that these jurors
be excused for cause, having exhausted all of their peremptory
challenges, but these challenges for cause had been denied by the
trial judge. The judgment of conviction was affirmed by the
Supreme Court of Louisiana, 242 La. 431, 137 So.2d 283, and the
case is here on a writ of certiorari, 371 U.S. 919 .
The record in this case
contains as an exhibit the sound film which was broadcast. What
the people of Calcasieu Parish saw on their television sets was
Rideau, in jail, flanked by the sheriff and two state troopers,
admitting in detail the commission of the robbery, kidnapping, and
murder, in response to leading questions by the sheriff.
2 The record fails to show whose idea
it was to make the sound film, and broadcast it over the local
television station, but we know from the conceded circumstances
that the plan was carried out with the active cooperation and
participation of the local law enforcement officers. And certainly
no one has suggested that it was Rideau's idea, or even that he
was aware of what was going on when the sound film was being made.
In the view we take of
this case, the question of who originally initiated the idea of
the televised interview is, in any event, a basically irrelevant
detail. For we hold that it was a denial of due process of law to
refuse the request for a change of venue, after the people of
Calcasieu Parish had been exposed repeatedly and in depth to the
spectacle of Rideau personally confessing in detail to the crimes
with which he was later to be charged. For anyone who has ever
watched television the conclusion cannot be avoided that this
spectacle, to the tens of thousands of people who saw and heard it,
in a very real sense was Rideau's trial - at which he pleaded
guilty to murder. Any subsequent court proceedings in a community
so pervasively exposed to such a spectacle could be but a hollow
formality.
In Brown v. Mississippi,
297 U.S. 278 , this Court set aside murder convictions secured in
a state trial with all the formalities of fair procedures, based
upon "free and voluntary confessions" which in fact had been
preceded by grossly brutal kangaroo court proceedings while the
defendants were held in jail without counsel. As Chief Justice
Hughes wrote in that case, "The State is free to regulate the
procedure of its courts in accordance with its own conceptions of
policy . . . . [But] it does not follow that it may substitute
trial by ordeal." 297 U.S., at 285 . Cf. White v. Texas, 310 U.S.
530 . That was almost a generation ago, in an era before the
onrush of an electronic age.
The case now before us
does not involve physical brutality. The kangaroo court
proceedings in this case involved a more subtle but no less real
deprivation of due process of law. Under our Constitution's
guarantee of due process, a person accused of committing a crime
is vouchsafed basic minimal rights. Among these are the right to
counsel, 3 the right to plead not
guilty, and the right to be tried in a courtroom presided over by
a judge. Yet in this case the people of Calcasieu Parish saw and
heard, not once but three times, a "trial" of Rideau in a jail,
presided over by a sheriff, where there was no lawyer to advise
Rideau of his right to stand mute.
The record shows that such
a thing as this never took place before in Calcasieu Parish,
Louisiana. 4 Whether it has occurred
elsewhere, we do not know. But we do not hesitate to hold, without
pausing to examine a particularized transcript of the voir dire
examination of the members of the jury, that due process of law in
this case required a trial before a jury drawn from a community of
people who had not seen and heard Rideau's televised "interview" "Due
process of law, preserved for all by our Constitution, commands
that no such practice as that disclosed by this record shall send
any accused to his death." Chambers v. Florida, 309 U.S. 227, 241
.
Reversed.
Footnotes
[
Footnote 1 ] The motion stated: "That to require the Defendant
to be tried on the charges which have been preferred against him
in the Parish of Calcasieu, would be a travesty of justice and
would be a violation to the Defendant's rights for a fair and
impartial trial, which is guaranteed to every person accused of
having committed a crime by the Constitution of the State of
Louisiana and by the Constitution of the United States."
[
Footnote 2 ] The Supreme Court of Louisiana summarized the
event as follows: "[O]n the morning of February 17, 1961, the
defendant was interviewed by the sheriff, and the entire interview
was filmed (with a sound track) and shown to the audience of
television station KPLC-TV on three occasions. The showings
occurred prior to the arraignment of defendant on the murder
charge. In this interview the accused admitted his part in the
crime for which he was later indicted." 242 La., at 447, 137
So.2d, at 289.
[
Footnote 3 ] Gideon v. Wainwright, 372 U.S. 335 .
[
Footnote 4 ] "Q. Mr. Mazilly, you have been in police work
roughly 21 years? "A. Yes, sir. "Q. Were you in court yesterday at
the time a sound on film picture was shown to the court which had
been shown on KPLC-TV encompassing an interview between Sheriff
Reid and Rideau? "A. I was. "Q. In all of your 21 years, do you
know of any similar case in this parish or Southwest Louisiana
where a man charged with a capital crime was allowed - that
pictures were made of him and the general public was shown the
pictures and a sound track in which he confessed to a capital
crime? . . . . . . "A. No, sir."
MR. JUSTICE CLARK, with
whom MR. JUSTICE HARLAN joins, dissenting.
On the evening of February
16, 1961, the petitioner, Wilbert Rideau, was arrested and
confined in the Calcasieu Parish jail in Lake Charles, Louisiana.
The arrest arose out of a bank robbery and a subsequent kidnapping
and homicide. On the night of his arrest petitioner made detailed
oral and written confessions to the crimes, and on the following
morning a sound film was made of an interview between the sheriff
and petitioner in which he again admitted commission of the crimes.
The film was broadcast on a local television station on February
17, 18, and 19, 1961.
On March 3, 1961,
petitioner was arraigned on charges of armed robbery, kidnapping
and murder. As required under the law of Louisiana, he pleaded not
guilty to the two capital crimes, but he entered a plea of guilty
to the charge of armed robbery. Counsel were appointed immediately,
and they requested permission to withdraw the plea of guilty to
armed robbery, which motion was granted. They then filed a motion
to quash, and the State was required to elect under which count it
wished to proceed. The State elected the murder count, and the
trial was set for April 10, 1961.
The defense moved for a
change of venue, which was denied after hearing. Thereupon a jury
was empaneled and petitioner was tried and convicted of murder.
The Louisiana Supreme Court affirmed and this Court now reverses
that judgment, holding that the denial of petitioner's motion for
change of venue was a deprivation of due process of law. Having
searched the Court's opinion and the record, I am unable to find
any deprivation of due process under the Fourteenth Amendment and
I therefore dissent.
At the outset, two matters
should be clearly established. First, I do not believe it within
the province of law enforcement officers actively to cooperate in
activities which tend to make more difficult the achievement of
impartial justice. Therefore, if this case arose in a federal
court, over which we exercise supervisory powers, I would vote to
reverse the judgment before us. Cf. Marshall v. United States, 360
U.S. 310 (1959). It goes without saying, however, that there is a
very significant difference between matters within the scope of
our supervisory power and matters which reach the level of
constitutional dimension. See, e. g., Stein v. New York, 346 U.S.
156, 187 (1953); Brown v. Allen, 344 U.S. 443, 476 (1953).
Second, I agree fully with
the Court that one is deprived of due process of law when he is
tried in an environment so permeated with hostility that judicial
proceedings can be "but a hollow formality." This proposition, and
my position with regard thereto, are established in Irvin v. Dowd,
366 U.S. 717 (1961). At this point I must part company with the
Court, however, not so much because it deviates from the
principles established in Irvin but because it applies no
principles at all. It simply stops at this point, without
establishing any substantial nexus between the televised "interview"
and petitioner's trial, which occurred almost two months later.
Unless the adverse publicity is shown by the record to have
fatally infected the trial, there is simply no basis for the
Court's inference that the publicity, epitomized by the televised
interview, called up some informal and illicit analogy to res
judicata, making petitioner's trial a meaningless formality. See
Beck v. Washington, 369 U.S. 541 (1962).
That the Court apparently
does not realize the necessity of establishing this nexus is
illustrated by its reliance on Brown v. Mississippi, 297 U.S. 278
(1936). That case and its progeny *
stand for the proposition that one may not constitutionally be
convicted of a crime upon evidence including a confession
involuntarily made. There can be no more clear nexus between the
action of state officials before trial and the trial itself than
when the results of that action are admitted in evidence at the
trial. Here, of course, neither the filmed interview nor any
transcript of it was shown or read to the jury. While the oral and
written confessions made on the night of the arrest were admitted
in evidence, the only argument for their exclusion made by the
petitioner is that they were obtained at an interrogation when he
had not been advised of his right to counsel and did not have
counsel present. That argument is clearly answered by our
decisions in Cicenia v. Lagay, 357 U.S. 504 (1958), and Crooker v.
California, 357 U.S. 433 (1958).
The fact that the adverse
publicity was not evidence in the case is not controlling, however,
for we have recognized that such matter may, in unusual
circumstances, fatally infect a trial when it enters the courtroom
indelibly imbedded in the minds of the jurors. We found such a
situation in Irvin v. Dowd, supra, where the continuous wave of
publicity concerning the offense and the past record of the
petitioner so permeated the area where he was tried that
"[a]n examination of the
2,783-page voir dire record shows that 370 prospective jurors or
almost 90% of those examined on the point . . . entertained some
opinion as to guilt - ranging in intensity from mere suspicion
to absolute certainty. A number admitted that, if they were in
the accused's place in the dock and he in theirs on the jury
with their opinions, they would not want him on a jury." 366 U.S.,
at 727 .
More important, of the 12
jurors finally placed in the jury box eight thought petitioner
Irvin to be guilty. In view of those circumstances we unanimously
reversed the judgment in that case, with the caveat that
"It is not required,
however, that the jurors be totally ignorant of the facts and
issues involved. In these days of swift, widespread and diverse
methods of communication, an important case can be expected to
arouse the interest of the public in the vicinity, and scarcely
any of those best qualified to serve as jurors will not have
formed some impression or opinion as to the merits of the case.
This is particularly true in criminal cases. To hold that the
mere existence of any preconceived notion as to the guilt or
innocence of an accused, without more, is sufficient to rebut
the presumption of a prospective juror's impartiality would be
to establish an impossible standard." Id., at 722-723.
Thus, in Irvin, because of
the complete permeation, imbedding opinions of guilt in the minds
of 90% of the veniremen and two-thirds of the actual jury, we held
that petitioner had been deprived of his constitutional right to
an impartial tribunal. Compare Beck v. Washington, supra. We now
face the question whether this is such a situation and, for that
determination, we must examine the publicity involved, the hearing
on the motion for change of venue and the record of the voir dire
examination.
Initially, we face an
obstacle in determining the pervasiveness of the televised
interview, since the circulation of a television program is less
susceptible of determination than that of a newspaper. The figures
quoted by the Court as representing the number of people who "saw
and heard" the interview were given by the Program Director of the
television station and represented the typical number of viewers
at the times when the interview was broadcast, as determined by a
rating service which had conducted a sampling some months previous
to the broadcasts. The Director testified that those figures
represented "an approximate number and, as I say, there is no way
you can prove this because communications is an intangible
business . . . ." Of course, assuming arguendo the accuracy of the
figures given, there is no way of determining whether those
figures are mutually inclusive or whether they represent different
viewers on the different occasions. The record does give a more
tangible indication of the effect of the publicity, however, in
the hearing on the motion for change of venue. At that hearing
five witnesses testified that, in their opinions, petitioner could
not get a fair trial in the parish. Twenty-four witnesses
testified that, in their opinions, petitioner could get a fair
trial and a stipulation was entered that five more witnesses would
testify that he could get a fair trial in the parish.
The most crucial evidence
relates to the composition of the 12-man jury. Of the 12 members
of the panel only three had seen the televised interview which had
been shown almost two months before the trial. The petitioner does
not assert, and the record does not show, that these three
testified to holding opinions of petitioner's guilt. They did
testify, however, that they
"could lay aside any
opinion, give the defendant the presumption of innocence as
provided by law, base their decision solely upon the evidence,
and apply the law as given by the court. As the judge stated in
his per curiam: `They testified they could do so notwithstanding
anything they may have heard, seen or read of the case.'" 242
La. 431, 462, 137 So.2d 283, 295.
Further, two members of
the jury held honorary Deputy Sheriff's commissions from the
Sheriff's department. Neither of these men was in any way
connected with the department as a deputy, neither had ever made
any arrests and neither had ever received any pay from the
department. They both testified that they used the honorary
commissions only for their convenience. They testified that these
honorary commissions would not affect their ability to serve as
jurors in any way, and the trial judge concluded that this tenuous
relationship with the State did not destroy their qualifications
to serve. Cf. Frazier v. United States, 335 U.S. 497 (1948);
United States v. Wood, 299 U.S. 123 (1936).
The right to a trial
before a fair and impartial tribunal "is a basic requirement of
due process," In re Murchison, 349 U.S. 133, 136 (1955), and must
be safeguarded with vigilance. As we recognized in Irvin, however,
it is an impossible standard to require that tribunal to be a
laboratory, completely sterilized and freed from any external
factors. The determination of impartiality, in which demeanor
plays such an important part, is particularly within the province
of the trial judge. And when the jurors testify that they can
discount the influence of external factors and meet the standard
imposed by the Fourteenth Amendment, that assurance is not lightly
to be discarded. When the circumstances are unusually compelling,
as in Irvin, the assurances may be discarded, but "it is not
asking too much that the burden of showing essential unfairness be
sustained by him who claims such injustice and seeks to have the
result set aside . . . ." Adams v. United States ex rel. McCann,
317 U.S. 269, 281 (1942). Since the petitioner clearly has not met
that burden, I would affirm the judgment before us.
[
Footnote * ] See Ritz, Twenty-five Years of State Criminal
Confession Cases in the U.S. Supreme Court, 19 Wash & Lee L. Rev.
35 (1962).