softheart
07-07-2005, 04:55 PM
July 7, 2005
Maryland
Man wrongly convicted of murder tells his story
Kirk Bloodsworth,
BY COLLEEN LUTOLF, The Sentinel
Kirk Bloodsworth was sentenced to death in March 1985
for the brutal rape and murder of a 9-year-old girl
found in the Maryland woods one year before.
But there was a problem. He didn't do it.
It's been 12 years since Bloodsworth was released from
prison as a result of DNA evidence prosecutors
presenting the case claimed they did not have. He
continues to dedicate his life to advocate against the
death penalty.
He visited St. James Church in Woodbridge June 28 -
the anniversary of his release - with the anti-death
penalty organization New Jerseyans for Alternatives to
the Death Penalty (NJADP) to tell his story.
"On Aug. 9, 1984, I heard a knock on my door,"
Bloodsworth said, as he thumped his fist on the church
lectern several times. "I went to the door in no
shirt, no shoes, and silk running shorts. It was an
August night not unlike tonight - hot and humid - at
quarter to 3 in the morning. I opened the door and a
voice said, 'You're under arrest for the first-degree
murder of Dawn Hamilton.'
"They pushed my head down as they put me into the
police car, and it was the last time I saw Cambridge,
Md., for eight years, 11 months and 19 days," he said.
Bloodsworth then told the audience of about 40 people
in first few rows of church pews exactly what
Baltimore County authorities accused him of doing to
young Dawn Hamilton.
"It's very graphic," he said. "This 9-year-old girl
who never hurt a soul, her head was crushed by a rock.
Her throat was stepped on so forcefully that an
imprint of the sole of the sneaker was left in her
skin. She was naked from the waist down. Her panties
were discarded in the tree next to her body. A stick
was pushed up inside her. That's what I was accused of
doing."
Authorities were looking for a man approximately 6
feet, 5 inches, with curly blond hair, a bushy
mustache, tan skin and skinny.
"I wasn't skinny," Bloodsworth said. "The only
resemblance I had was I was a white male and I had a
mustache."
Two young boys identified Bloodsworth in a police
lineup, he said.
Authorities ignored other suspects in the area,
including a man found with a pair of girls underwear,
and a man fitting the suspect's profile who had just
had a physical altercation with a young girl,
Bloodsworth said.
"I went to trial and was convicted on all counts," he
said. "I received the death penalty and the courtroom
erupted in applause. The people involved in the trial
went to a bar and celebrated 'til 4 a.m.. For me, it
was the blackest time of my life."
During the almost nine years he was imprisoned for a
crime he didn't commit, Bloodsworth was hit in the
head with a sock full of batteries, stabbed in the
calf and had his clavicle fractured with a padlock.
Bloodsworth said prisoners had to keep cotton balls in
their ears at night so cockroaches would not lay eggs
in their heads.
"It was the most visual idea of what hell would be
like," he said. "It smelled of rat feces, filth and
body odor. Two weeks before I showed up, a guard was
disemboweled."
Books kept Bloodsworth sane.
"I read a lot while I was in prison," he said.
"Everything from Stephen King to gestalt psychology."
A second trial had reduced Bloodsworth's prison to
back-to-back life sentences. It was while he was
serving this term that he received a book in the mail
that would prove to be the key to his jail cell door.
"The Blooding" by Joseph Wampaugh featured a story
about a serial killer who was tracked using genetic
fingerprinting.
"I thought, 'If they can use DNA to prove it is, then
why can't they use it to prove it isn't?' " he said.
A swab taken from Dawn Hamilton's body containing
semen was discovered to still exist. Bloodsworth's DNA
test results didn't match. He was free to go home.
When Bloodsworth returned to Cambridge, Md., he had
trouble getting a job and was harassed by his
neighbors.
DNA testing was fairly new. The public wasn't too sure
if he could be trusted, Bloodsworth said.
"I started getting anonymous phone calls saying, 'I'm
going to kill you the way you killed that little
girl,'" Bloodsworth said.
And the prosecutor's statement didn't help.
"If we had the DNA evidence in 1984, Mr. Bloodsworth
would not have been prosecuted, but we are not
prepared to say he is innocent," Ann Brobst, the woman
who prosecuted him said at the time of his release.
Bloodsworth received a phone call in September 2003
from Brobst.
"The real killer had slept underneath me in prison for
five years," he said. "I gave him library books and he
never said a word."
Kimberly Shay Ruffner had been serving time for
another rape. He had been sleeping in the cell block
one floor below Bloodsworth.
Ruffner pleaded guilty to the murder of Dawn Hamilton
last May.
Bloodsworth received only $300,000 from the state of
Maryland for the almost nine years he spent in prison.
The experience prompted him to oppose the death
penalty. He works for the Justice Project, an
organization that lobbies for anti-death penalty
legislation.
Also telling his tale last week was Lorry Post, who
lost his daughter, Lisa Price, in 1988 when she was
stabbed to death by her husband.
"My daughter was about to leave her husband but he
said she was not going to leave him," Post said. "He
stabbed her in the back twice. I'm OK talking about
it, but every time I use the words 'stabbed in the
back' I feel like something is stabbing me in my back.
I think about my little girl having a knife stuck in
her back."
Post, along with other residents throughout the state,
formed New Jerseyans for Alternatives to the Death
Penalty after a Florida man, Pedro Medina was
sentenced to death. They believed he was innocent but
he was executed in the electric chair in 1997.
"His head was set on fire," Post said.
The organization began with five members in 1997. It
now has 10,000, he said.
Most members are from churches, synagogues or meeting
houses, but a portion of the organization's members
come from secular organizations, Post said.
Carmelot Dorcellus, a forensic science teacher at the
Newark Museum and a St. James parishioner, said he was
excited to hear Bloodsworth speak at the church
because he teaches his students using Bloodsworth's
story.
"I show my students your story," he told Bloodsworth.
"I show them a videotape. They couldn't believe that
could happen in America."
Louise McDyer said she came to the forum discussion at
St. James because she saw it advertised in a Catholic
newspaper.
"While the topic I believe is interesting, hearing the
speaker who was actually on death row and found to be
innocent I find a fascinating subject," she said
before the meeting.
McDyer said she was already opposed to the death
penalty, but hearing Bloodsworth and Post speak,
reinforced her conviction.
"It was quite worthwhile," she said. "It reinforced my
feelings."
New Jersey currently has 10 inmates on death row,
NJADP executive director Celeste Fitzgerald said.
A death row inmate has not been killed by the state in
43 years. A moratorium on New Jersey executions was
imposed in 2004 after the NJADP sued the state
Department of Corrections for what they said was a
faulty execution procedure, Fitzgerald said.
The regulations were found to be "arbitrary and
unreasonable" by an appellate court, but that the
moratorium could soon be lifted, Fitzgerald said.
---
Source : The Sentinel
Maryland
Man wrongly convicted of murder tells his story
Kirk Bloodsworth,
BY COLLEEN LUTOLF, The Sentinel
Kirk Bloodsworth was sentenced to death in March 1985
for the brutal rape and murder of a 9-year-old girl
found in the Maryland woods one year before.
But there was a problem. He didn't do it.
It's been 12 years since Bloodsworth was released from
prison as a result of DNA evidence prosecutors
presenting the case claimed they did not have. He
continues to dedicate his life to advocate against the
death penalty.
He visited St. James Church in Woodbridge June 28 -
the anniversary of his release - with the anti-death
penalty organization New Jerseyans for Alternatives to
the Death Penalty (NJADP) to tell his story.
"On Aug. 9, 1984, I heard a knock on my door,"
Bloodsworth said, as he thumped his fist on the church
lectern several times. "I went to the door in no
shirt, no shoes, and silk running shorts. It was an
August night not unlike tonight - hot and humid - at
quarter to 3 in the morning. I opened the door and a
voice said, 'You're under arrest for the first-degree
murder of Dawn Hamilton.'
"They pushed my head down as they put me into the
police car, and it was the last time I saw Cambridge,
Md., for eight years, 11 months and 19 days," he said.
Bloodsworth then told the audience of about 40 people
in first few rows of church pews exactly what
Baltimore County authorities accused him of doing to
young Dawn Hamilton.
"It's very graphic," he said. "This 9-year-old girl
who never hurt a soul, her head was crushed by a rock.
Her throat was stepped on so forcefully that an
imprint of the sole of the sneaker was left in her
skin. She was naked from the waist down. Her panties
were discarded in the tree next to her body. A stick
was pushed up inside her. That's what I was accused of
doing."
Authorities were looking for a man approximately 6
feet, 5 inches, with curly blond hair, a bushy
mustache, tan skin and skinny.
"I wasn't skinny," Bloodsworth said. "The only
resemblance I had was I was a white male and I had a
mustache."
Two young boys identified Bloodsworth in a police
lineup, he said.
Authorities ignored other suspects in the area,
including a man found with a pair of girls underwear,
and a man fitting the suspect's profile who had just
had a physical altercation with a young girl,
Bloodsworth said.
"I went to trial and was convicted on all counts," he
said. "I received the death penalty and the courtroom
erupted in applause. The people involved in the trial
went to a bar and celebrated 'til 4 a.m.. For me, it
was the blackest time of my life."
During the almost nine years he was imprisoned for a
crime he didn't commit, Bloodsworth was hit in the
head with a sock full of batteries, stabbed in the
calf and had his clavicle fractured with a padlock.
Bloodsworth said prisoners had to keep cotton balls in
their ears at night so cockroaches would not lay eggs
in their heads.
"It was the most visual idea of what hell would be
like," he said. "It smelled of rat feces, filth and
body odor. Two weeks before I showed up, a guard was
disemboweled."
Books kept Bloodsworth sane.
"I read a lot while I was in prison," he said.
"Everything from Stephen King to gestalt psychology."
A second trial had reduced Bloodsworth's prison to
back-to-back life sentences. It was while he was
serving this term that he received a book in the mail
that would prove to be the key to his jail cell door.
"The Blooding" by Joseph Wampaugh featured a story
about a serial killer who was tracked using genetic
fingerprinting.
"I thought, 'If they can use DNA to prove it is, then
why can't they use it to prove it isn't?' " he said.
A swab taken from Dawn Hamilton's body containing
semen was discovered to still exist. Bloodsworth's DNA
test results didn't match. He was free to go home.
When Bloodsworth returned to Cambridge, Md., he had
trouble getting a job and was harassed by his
neighbors.
DNA testing was fairly new. The public wasn't too sure
if he could be trusted, Bloodsworth said.
"I started getting anonymous phone calls saying, 'I'm
going to kill you the way you killed that little
girl,'" Bloodsworth said.
And the prosecutor's statement didn't help.
"If we had the DNA evidence in 1984, Mr. Bloodsworth
would not have been prosecuted, but we are not
prepared to say he is innocent," Ann Brobst, the woman
who prosecuted him said at the time of his release.
Bloodsworth received a phone call in September 2003
from Brobst.
"The real killer had slept underneath me in prison for
five years," he said. "I gave him library books and he
never said a word."
Kimberly Shay Ruffner had been serving time for
another rape. He had been sleeping in the cell block
one floor below Bloodsworth.
Ruffner pleaded guilty to the murder of Dawn Hamilton
last May.
Bloodsworth received only $300,000 from the state of
Maryland for the almost nine years he spent in prison.
The experience prompted him to oppose the death
penalty. He works for the Justice Project, an
organization that lobbies for anti-death penalty
legislation.
Also telling his tale last week was Lorry Post, who
lost his daughter, Lisa Price, in 1988 when she was
stabbed to death by her husband.
"My daughter was about to leave her husband but he
said she was not going to leave him," Post said. "He
stabbed her in the back twice. I'm OK talking about
it, but every time I use the words 'stabbed in the
back' I feel like something is stabbing me in my back.
I think about my little girl having a knife stuck in
her back."
Post, along with other residents throughout the state,
formed New Jerseyans for Alternatives to the Death
Penalty after a Florida man, Pedro Medina was
sentenced to death. They believed he was innocent but
he was executed in the electric chair in 1997.
"His head was set on fire," Post said.
The organization began with five members in 1997. It
now has 10,000, he said.
Most members are from churches, synagogues or meeting
houses, but a portion of the organization's members
come from secular organizations, Post said.
Carmelot Dorcellus, a forensic science teacher at the
Newark Museum and a St. James parishioner, said he was
excited to hear Bloodsworth speak at the church
because he teaches his students using Bloodsworth's
story.
"I show my students your story," he told Bloodsworth.
"I show them a videotape. They couldn't believe that
could happen in America."
Louise McDyer said she came to the forum discussion at
St. James because she saw it advertised in a Catholic
newspaper.
"While the topic I believe is interesting, hearing the
speaker who was actually on death row and found to be
innocent I find a fascinating subject," she said
before the meeting.
McDyer said she was already opposed to the death
penalty, but hearing Bloodsworth and Post speak,
reinforced her conviction.
"It was quite worthwhile," she said. "It reinforced my
feelings."
New Jersey currently has 10 inmates on death row,
NJADP executive director Celeste Fitzgerald said.
A death row inmate has not been killed by the state in
43 years. A moratorium on New Jersey executions was
imposed in 2004 after the NJADP sued the state
Department of Corrections for what they said was a
faulty execution procedure, Fitzgerald said.
The regulations were found to be "arbitrary and
unreasonable" by an appellate court, but that the
moratorium could soon be lifted, Fitzgerald said.
---
Source : The Sentinel