by DAVE ZIRIN
the Nation March 21, 2007The history of the American legal system is scarred with instances of injustice: the Haymarket martyrs, Sacco and Vanzetti, the Scottsboro Boys, Julius and Ethel Rosenberg. Add to this list the case of Gary Tyler, convicted of murder at the age of 16. Tyler's case was remarkable because at the time of his 1975 conviction, he was the nation's youngest death-row inmate. The spotlight dimmed when his sentence was commuted to life without the possibility of parole in 1977, a year after the US Supreme Court declared Louisiana's death penalty unconstitutional.
Tyler, now 48, is living out his days in Louisiana's notorious Angola prison. A former slave plantation, Angola is home to 5,000 prisoners,
75 percent of whom are black. He has now spent years of his life
behind bars because he was the wrong color in the wrong place at the
wrong time.
National interest in Tyler's case was revived by a recent series of
articles by New York Times columnist Bob Herbert. In 1974 Tyler was on
a school bus filled with African-American students who attended the
formerly all-white Destrehan High School in St. Charles Parish,
Louisiana. A white mob attacked the school bus. As Gary's brother
Terry recalled years later to journalist Adam Nossiter in a piece
published in The Nation, "They were on the attack, man. It was panic."
Witnesses at the time said someone on the bus pointed out the window
and yelled, "Look at that white boy with that gun." After several
pops, a 13-year-old white student, Timothy Weber, lay wounded on the
ground. Weber's cousin, Deputy Sheriff V.J. St. Pierre, rushed the boy
to the hospital, where he later died from a gunshot wound. Later,
white supremacist David Duke came to Destrehan to fan the flames of
racial hatred.
Herbert wrote, "That single shot in this rural town about 25 miles up
the Mississippi River from New Orleans set in motion a tale of
appalling injustice that has lasted to the present day." The police
came onto the bus and Tyler was dragged off. Then came the beatings.
As Juanita Tyler, Gary's mother, told Herbert, "One of the deputies
had a strap and they whipped him with that. It was terrible. Finally,
when they let me go in there, Gary was just trembling. He was
frightened to death. He was trembling and rocking back and forth. They
had kicked him all in his privates. He said, 'Mama, they kicked me.
One kicked me in the front and one kicked in the back.' He said that
over and over. I couldn't believe what they had done to my baby." An
all-white jury found Tyler guilty of first-degree murder. Since his
conviction, the four witnesses against him have recanted their
testimony.
The murder weapon, as Herbert reported, had been "stolen from a firing
range used by the sheriff's deputies." It appeared out of nowhere as
the murder weapon. The gun has since magically disappeared from the
evidence room.
A federal appeals court ultimately ruled that Tyler did not receive a
fair trial, but justice was again denied. In an interview with Amy
Goodman and Juan Gonzalez of Democracy Now!, Herbert explained that
the court ruled that "the charge to the jury was flawed, and they said
that it was flawed so badly that it clearly could have had an impact
on how the jurors ruled. But they were so insistent on not having this
case overturned and not having Gary Tyler freed or have a new trial
that they ruled on a technicality that he did not deserve a new trial.
So it's on the record that a federal appeals court has said that his
trial was fundamentally unfair."
In 1989, Louisiana Board of Pardons (LBP) voted 3 to 2 to commute
Tyler's sentence from life to sixty years, making Tyler eligible for a
speedy release from prison. But Louisiana Governor Charles "Buddy"
Roemer, a Democrat facing an electoral challenge from David Duke,
refused to issue a pardon. A crucial element in Roemer's decision was
the racially charged political climate: Eighteen years later, that
climate has changed. And now the fight to free Gary Tyler has been
reignited by a new advocacy effort, led by Tyler's family, lawyers and
activists.
Joe Allen, a member of the Free Gary Tyler steering committee,
credited Bob Herbert's columns for reviving the effort to free him.
"Gary's case is one of the great miscarriages of justice in the modern
history of the US but had largely been forgotten until the recent work
by Bob Herbert," he told me. "I think there is momentum now that makes
it possible for the first time in decades to build a national campaign
for his freedom."
In addition to the Free Gary Tyler campaign, Amnesty International's
relaunched advocacy has given the Tyler case new visibility. Building
on this momentum, I contacted people I know from the world of sports
to ask if they would to stand with Tyler at this critical time. And
they have responded.
Tommie Smith and John Carlos were part of the most dynamic moment in
the history of sports and struggle when they raised their black-gloved
fists at the 1968 Olympics. Lee Evans was also a gold medal winner at
those Olympics and a leader of the Olympic Project for Human Rights.
Rubin "Hurricane" Carter was a top-ranked boxer who spent almost
twenty years in prison for a triple homicide before being exonerated
after an international campaign to win his freedom. Jim "Bulldog"
Bouton and Bill "Spaceman" Lee were all-star pitchers for the Yankees
and Red Sox who told uncomfortable truths about both society and the
game that they love. Etan Thomas plays for the NBA's Washington
Wizards and stands in the tradition of the previous generation of
political athletes. Together, they and other sports figures are asking
Louisiana Governor Kathleen Blanco for the release of Gary Tyler. Read
the statement to see how Tyler's quest for justice has brought these
and other extraordinary figures from the world of sports together.
JOCKS 4 JUSTICE
To: Gov. Kathleen Blanco
We, the undersigned members of the sports community, call upon you, in
the name of justice and racial reconciliation, to pardon Gary Tyler
and free him from Angola prison. Gary is an innocent man who has spent
32 of his 48 years on earth behind bars for a crime he did not commit.
Gary's life has been destroyed because of racial hysteria and that
peculiar brand of police work known internationally as "Southern
Justice."
As you are undoubtedly aware, New York Times columnist Bob Herbert has
spent the last month exposing the terrifying truth behind Gary's
conviction. In 1975, Gary Tyler, an African-American teenager, was
convicted by an all-white jury for the murder of Timothy Weber, a
thirteen-year-old white youth. Weber was shot and killed during a
busing riot where 200 whites attacked Gary's school bus. Weber's death
quite understandably sent shock waves across the state. The police
needed a killer. They chose Gary and his nightmare officially began.
Gary's mother detailed to Herbert the sounds of listening to deputies
at the police station savagely whipping her son, while they blocked
her from entering the room. "They beat Gary so bad," she said. "My
poor child. I couldn't do nothing." Every witness who identified Gary
as the shooter has since recanted and alleged police intimidation. The
gun supposedly used on that day has disappeared.