House's Arrest
So what do you say when you're released from death row after 22 years, for a crime that you maintain you didn't commit?
"Took 'em long enough."
Those were the words of Paul House, who was convicted in 1986 of the rape and murder of Carolyn Muncey in Tennessee and then sentenced to die.
So let's release him and immediately nominate him for Understatement of the Year.
State prosecutors on Tuesday asked a judge to drop all charges against House. Special Judge Jon Blackwood accepted the request.
House's cause was championed by a group called The Innocence Project, which is affiliated with the Cardozo School of Law in New York.
It took the U.S. Supreme Court to get involved, though.
House was scheduled to be re-tried next month, nearly three years after the high court ruled, 5-3, that he was entitled to a new hearing.
"Although the issue is closed, we conclude that this is the rare case where -- had the jury heard all the conflicting testimony -- it is more likely than not that no reasonable juror viewing the record as a whole would lack reasonable doubt," wrote Justice Anthony Kennedy for the 5-3 majority.
House was also the master of the understatement back in 2005, in an interview with CNN. He told the network that he maintains his innocence. He was asked why then, he was still on death row.
"I guess that's the million dollar question," House said.
The details are this: Muncey disappeared after leaving her home in rural Luttrell, TN on July 13, 1985. One day later, her body was found, badly beaten. Forensic evidence indicated that she'd been raped.
From CNN:
If you think this is another editorial railing against the death penalty, you're right. With a disclaimer.
I've never, thank the Lord, had anyone close to me torn from me violently. Never known the anger and thirst for vengeance that such a hideous act would spawn.
So as someone who hasn't known that tragedy, I fall on the side of no death penalty.
If some monster, though, committed an act that befell Carolyn Muncey, against a loved one of mine, my view might change.
I like to think that's a rather mature, even-handed way of looking at this hot button issue.
Some might call that wishy-washy.
Tough.
Also at issue is the undoing of closure for the Muncey family. House's release means that her real killer is possibly still at large. Not a great feeling for them. One man's freedom is another family's reopened wound.
Paul House
It's funny, though. Whenever these things happen--and they pop up just often enough that it ought to make reasonable people squeamish about capital punishment--the prosecutors don't seem to want to let it go...totally.
Despite Justice Kennedy's assertion, in his 2006 ruling, that DNA evidence might point to "a different suspect," District Attorney Paul Phillips wrote in his petition this week that he still believes House could have been convicted again in a new trial, "but the new evidence (including the forensic examinations) raises a reasonable doubt that he acted alone and the possibility that others were involved in the crime."
And House, for his part, admitted that lying to police about where he was that fateful night didn't do him any favors.
But Phillips's begrudging words aside, House, who suffers from multiple sclerosis and uses a wheelchair, is cleared. Free. Sprung.
But, now what?
Yes, it "took 'em long enough," as House said, but no matter how much you clear a man, there's no entity that can give him his 22 years back.
Paul Newman, in the wonderful film Absence of Malice, has the bittersweet satisfaction of framing those who framed him for a murder. In a classic scene at the end of the movie, he opines about a friend of his who took her own life as a result of reckless news reporting.
"She's dead," Newman says in a justice department conference room with all the key parties present. "Who do I see about that?"
Paul House might ask that question.
"My 22 years are gone," he might say.
"Who do I see about that?"
After Newman asked his question, Wilford Brimley's justice department character responds sincerely.
"Ain't no one to see," Brimley says.
"I wish there were."
No kidding.
**************************************
(For lots more info about Paul House's case, click here for the CNN story and several related links)
"Took 'em long enough."
Those were the words of Paul House, who was convicted in 1986 of the rape and murder of Carolyn Muncey in Tennessee and then sentenced to die.
So let's release him and immediately nominate him for Understatement of the Year.
State prosecutors on Tuesday asked a judge to drop all charges against House. Special Judge Jon Blackwood accepted the request.
House's cause was championed by a group called The Innocence Project, which is affiliated with the Cardozo School of Law in New York.
It took the U.S. Supreme Court to get involved, though.
House was scheduled to be re-tried next month, nearly three years after the high court ruled, 5-3, that he was entitled to a new hearing.
"Although the issue is closed, we conclude that this is the rare case where -- had the jury heard all the conflicting testimony -- it is more likely than not that no reasonable juror viewing the record as a whole would lack reasonable doubt," wrote Justice Anthony Kennedy for the 5-3 majority.
House was also the master of the understatement back in 2005, in an interview with CNN. He told the network that he maintains his innocence. He was asked why then, he was still on death row.
"I guess that's the million dollar question," House said.
The details are this: Muncey disappeared after leaving her home in rural Luttrell, TN on July 13, 1985. One day later, her body was found, badly beaten. Forensic evidence indicated that she'd been raped.
From CNN:
House, who was on parole at the time as a sex offender, was questioned by
police. He denied any involvement in the crime. He was a friend of Muncey's
husband, but claimed he was in his own house several miles away the evening of
the murder. But prosecutors found a hole in his alibi, discovering that he had
left his home the night of the murder and returned about an hour later with
unexplained cuts and bruises.
If you think this is another editorial railing against the death penalty, you're right. With a disclaimer.
I've never, thank the Lord, had anyone close to me torn from me violently. Never known the anger and thirst for vengeance that such a hideous act would spawn.
So as someone who hasn't known that tragedy, I fall on the side of no death penalty.
If some monster, though, committed an act that befell Carolyn Muncey, against a loved one of mine, my view might change.
I like to think that's a rather mature, even-handed way of looking at this hot button issue.
Some might call that wishy-washy.
Tough.
Also at issue is the undoing of closure for the Muncey family. House's release means that her real killer is possibly still at large. Not a great feeling for them. One man's freedom is another family's reopened wound.
Paul House
It's funny, though. Whenever these things happen--and they pop up just often enough that it ought to make reasonable people squeamish about capital punishment--the prosecutors don't seem to want to let it go...totally.
Despite Justice Kennedy's assertion, in his 2006 ruling, that DNA evidence might point to "a different suspect," District Attorney Paul Phillips wrote in his petition this week that he still believes House could have been convicted again in a new trial, "but the new evidence (including the forensic examinations) raises a reasonable doubt that he acted alone and the possibility that others were involved in the crime."
And House, for his part, admitted that lying to police about where he was that fateful night didn't do him any favors.
But Phillips's begrudging words aside, House, who suffers from multiple sclerosis and uses a wheelchair, is cleared. Free. Sprung.
But, now what?
Yes, it "took 'em long enough," as House said, but no matter how much you clear a man, there's no entity that can give him his 22 years back.
Paul Newman, in the wonderful film Absence of Malice, has the bittersweet satisfaction of framing those who framed him for a murder. In a classic scene at the end of the movie, he opines about a friend of his who took her own life as a result of reckless news reporting.
"She's dead," Newman says in a justice department conference room with all the key parties present. "Who do I see about that?"
Paul House might ask that question.
"My 22 years are gone," he might say.
"Who do I see about that?"
After Newman asked his question, Wilford Brimley's justice department character responds sincerely.
"Ain't no one to see," Brimley says.
"I wish there were."
No kidding.
**************************************
(For lots more info about Paul House's case, click here for the CNN story and several related links)
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