Why wrongful convictions are so common—and why prosecutors and police rarely apologize
newsdepo.com
In 1991, former New York Police Department detective Louis Scarcella set up a Brooklyn teenager, John Bunn, for the murder of off-duty corrections officer Rolando Neischer. The fingerprints from two bicycles found abandoned at the scene amidst blood didn’Why wrongful convictions are so common—and why prosecutors and police rarely apologize
In 1991, former New York Police Department detective Louis Scarcella set up a Brooklyn teenager, John Bunn, for the murder of off-duty corrections officer Rolando Neischer. The fingerprints from two bicycles found abandoned at the scene amidst blood didn’t match Bunn or his co-defendant. Just a single witness identified Bunn in a photo lineup; that witness was the only person to testify at the trial, which lasted just one day. Yet, at just 14 years old, Bunn was convicted of murder. Bunn served 17 years before winning parole in 2009. He didn’t get the right to a new trial until 2016. And it wasn’t until May 2018 that he was formally fully exonerated in an emotional court proceeding before Brooklyn Supreme Court Justice Shawn'Dya Simpson. Prosecutors refused to do more than announce they wouldn’t retry Bunn for the crime it’s now abundantly clear he didn’t commit. That refusal to acknowledge, much less apologize, inflicted a new hurt on Bunn: "They won't admit I'm an innocent man.” Prosecutors’ recalcitrance is particularly mystifying given ample proof of Scarcella’s illegal tactics for securing convictions. Derrick Hamilton served 21 years in prison for a friend’s Brooklyn murder despite the fact that Hamilton was in New Haven, Connecticut, that night, with witnesses to prove it. Why? The judge wouldn’t give the defense time to produce their witnesses, and Scarcella fabricated a witness for the prosecution. He threatened the victim’s girlfriend: he’d take her children and jail her for a parole violation if she didn’t say she’d seen Hamilton shoot her boyfriend in the chest. She’d later recant. It wasn’t until 2011 that Hamilton secured his release from the parole board with the assistance of a ‘post-conviction lawyer,’ Jonathan Edelstein, and a reporter willing to write about his case. Hamilton then fought for exoneration, arguing to a state appellate court that “actual innocence,” meaning the absence of evidence of a crime, should be grounds for vacating a sentence. He won, paving the way for other wrongfully convicted people in New York to pursue justice. It only takes one bad actor. Scarcella alone could have corrupted as many as 50 convictions in New York. He’s just one example of how one bad actor in the criminal justice process—or one faulty institution—can thwart justice for myriads. Read more