13 June, 2009

America's Most Wanted Changes Its Tune for Dale Helmig Story


The Fox Network's perennial ratings-grabber, America's Most Wanted, broke with long-standing tradition two weeks ago, airing an episode that laid bare the wrongful conviction of Missouri's Dale Helmig. Dale had been convicted of murdering his mother in the early '90s, but key evidence that would likely have cleared him was never presented to the jury.

Most Wanted has built a reputation on its hard line, pro-law-enforcement stance, so it was surprising to see its host, John Walsh, discuss Dale's case without the typical level of approbation for the system. Coming from him, remarks about the system's imperfections and Dale's innocence were downright shocking.

From what parallel universe did this new John Walsh sneak over, and what's he done with our John Walsh — the one we've come to rely upon for curt narration of all those melodramatic, soft-focus re-enactments?

I happen to know Dale. Not well, mind you, but we reside in the same housing unit, here at Crossroads Correctional Center, and say hello to each other in our frequent passings. When I got wind of Most Wanted's interview with Dale and forthcoming show about his case, I shook my head. My own experience with media attention (see "Shedding Light on Pitch Darkness," 18 August 2007) has been enough to make me wary. The sensational angles and out-and-out misrepresentations committed by so-called journalists seem to be closer to the rule than to the exception. "Be careful," I warned him, but the hourlong program that resulted was a breath of fresh air.

The fact is, as much as the public may hear about cases of innocent men and women in prison, the seemingly endless trickle of exonerations, there are as many as a hundred thousand wrongful convictions in the US (by some estimates) that no one hears about. We sit in our cramped cells and hold fast to the hope our latest motion or petition to the courts will be the one that finally sets us free. Meanwhile, story upon story about police and prosecutor misconduct makes the headlines, and nothing seems to change.

An 18 February article in the Kansas City Star describes former prosecutor (and recent candidate for Missouri governor) Kenny Hulshof's abysmal emerging record for "error," which includes his "too readily embellish[ing] arguments with his own opinions, or with facts outside the court record." This from a shining example of prosecutor-turned-politician? Just imagine what sorts of treachery is being implemented by those with less stellar reputations to uphold. Based on similar reports that have recently come to light, Hulshof is far from an isolated instance.

Then there's the 18 May issue of USA Today, which cites the case of a man convicted of rape in 1985, who appeared to be on his way to freedom when another man confessed to the crime. In 1999, however — four years after this new evidence was presented to the court, and nine years before DNA evidence would formally clear him — Tim Cole died in prison. What was he still doing there? Why does the system allow for this kind of grievous error (or, for that matter, subterfuge)? What does it say about our country, about ourselves, that we let it continue?

I applaud John Walsh and the producers at America's Most Wanted for the exposure they've given this important issue. I hope it helps Dale, whose case is about to go before the Supreme Court. One episode about one man, though, is not enough. It's my hope that Most Wanted continues to take a stance against this particular breed of injustice. Maybe others will follow suit, which will be good, because victims aren't only created by crime: too often they're created by the people entrusted to uphold the law, who are too eager to see that someone — anyone at — all pays the price.

25 May, 2009

Excerpt from a Random Conversation, Recently Had


"You know what I miss?" he asked.

"What's that?" I responded.

"Women. I miss women."

"Hmmm."

"Ah, come on! Tell me you don't think about them, like, all the time."

"I really don't. On the list of everything I miss most, I'd have to say my Number One is just general socialization."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean being with friends, meeting people, having meaningful exchanges — basic social stuff."

"Huh."

"Women, sex — I'm not sure if they even rank in my top five."

"Byron the monk, huh? Sorry, dude, I'm not buying it."

"You're not the first person to mention the monk thing. That's funny. It's true, though, I'd have to say food ranks much higher — probably my Number Two."

"Food's a biggie. How about driving? I miss driving. Hop in your Cadillac, hit the gas, and do it: go. Anywhere you want."

"Oh, absolutely. Maybe not in a Cadillac, necessarily, though. Give me a little sports import, something agile. Preferably in red."

"Yeah?"

"Well, I guess a Cadillac would be fine at this point; it'd get me away from this place."

"Four wheels and an engine's all you need."

"You can even keep the seat."

"Hell, two wheels, even."

"A bicycle? Sure thing. I'll happily pedal home."

"Ha! I'm with you there."

"Okay, so driving is probably my Number Four. I love it, but at this point I'll concede that I'd rather have the company of a beautiful young woman. So that's maybe Three. But Four is a really close Four, subject to move up a notch, depending on my mood that day."

"What do you think about baths? I'm partial to a nice bath now and again. Draw it up, light yourself a few scented candles, turn off the lights — yes, sir; that's the stuff."

"You know, I'd never have pegged you for the bath type. And scented candles? Seriously? Do you go for a shot of the bubbly in there, too?"

"Well, you know, if it's available. I've been known to take a bubble bath or two in my time."

"No shit?"

"No shit."

"You've offically blown my mind, sir. Congratulations."

"Happy to oblige. I miss my baths, though. Prison showers just don't get you clean — don't feel like they do, anyway. Get out on the streets and take yourself a shower, you'll be subject to feel ten times squeakier than you do, stepping out of one of them dingy stalls. A bath, even more so."

"Well, we can at least agree that bathing is an important issue."

"Newsflash!"

"Yeah, well, I doubt if most people out there normally think of this kind of thing. It might be a newsflash to them, knowing prisoners are pining away over more accommodating bathing facilities."

"'Baths? Bicycles? What the hell are these dudes smoking?' They'd think we were fools."

"The thing is, would your list of everything you'd miss, if you'd compiled it before you came to prison — what, twelve years ago for you — would it match all the stuff you actually do miss?"

"I don't know. Probably not. I had some pretty fucked-up priorities back then."

"The hell you say."

"Yeah, well. What about you? Your list be the same then as it is now that you've seen all this?"

"I'm pretty pragmatic — have been ever since I was little, I think. I'd like to think I'd have called it down pretty accurately. Sex might've been a little closer to the top than it actually is, and food a little lower, but otherwise I think I had a decent grasp of what was important."

"Bet that's a small comfort now, though, huh?"

"No comfort at all, Zach. None at all."

05 May, 2009

Requiem for a Paper Bag Now Available



For anyone who has ever discovered value in a piece of trash, wondered about the author of a note they found fluttering down the street, or developed an inexplicable crush on the subject of a discarded photograph, the outstanding anthology Requiem for a Paper Bag is now available from fine booksellers everywhere.

Featuring the personal experiences of a diverse assortment of contributors (including Tom Robbins, Dave Eggers, Chuck Klosterman, Jonathan Lethem, Susan Orlean, Miranda July, Jim Carroll, Billy Bragg, Chuck D, Seth Rogen, and many others), these are stories to make you giggle, make you squirm, make you cry — stories, in other words, that are as distinct and as fascinating as their authors. It is not only because the collection includes my story "Trash Night" that I recommend it; Requiem for a Paper Bag really is a fine book you're bound to find worthwhile. Click here to pick up your copy today.