(Photo: Darryl Hunt with April Garrett during panel discussion on the movie The Trials of Darryl Hunt at Harvard University)
The text
message I received from April Garret forced the type of reflection that made me
mad and sad within the same breath.
“Darryl Hunt
died today at 51,” I paused before reading more. “He was in a truck with a
suicide note and a gun.”
April and I
were introduced to the life of Hunt at the Full Frame Documentary Film Festival in Durham,
North Carolina. It was during the showing of The Trials of Darryl Hunt, the
documentary that exposed the world to the malfeasance that led to Hunt’s
wrongful conviction of the rape and murder of a Deborah Sykes, a white
newspaper copy editor in Winston-Salem, North Carolina.
Hunt was
imprisoned in 1984 and spent 20 years incarcerated. In 2005, he was exonerated
by DNA and other evidence that proved the district attorney was complicit in
the handling of the case. In December 2003, Hunt’s DNA was run against those in
a database which determined the DNA in his case belonged to Willard E. Brown.
Brown, who was a primary suspect prior to Hunt’s arrest, confessed to
Sykes rape and murder long before Hunt’s release from prison.
On February
6, 2004, Superior Court Judge Anderson Cromer vacated Hunt’s conviction.
Getting there wasn’t an easy task. Hunt, and his legal team, were forced to maneuver
through dynamics that continues to impact black men and
women caught in the criminal justice system. Concerns like cross-racial eyewitness identification,
prosecutorial misconduct, implicit bias in death penalty cases, inexperienced
defense attorneys assigned to capital cases and errors in police procedure are
documented in The Trials of Darryl Hunt.
Barry Scheck,
of The Innocence Project, worked on Hunt's case for ten years. After his
release, Hunt worked with the Innocence Project and The Darryl Hunt Project for
Freedom and Justice, the group he founded to educate the public regarding the
flaws within the criminal justice system while advocating for the rights of the
wrongfully incarcerated and providing resources and support for people after
serving time in prison.
The news of Hunts
suicide is difficult to take.
I met Hunt
after writing a column that profiled Hunt published in the Durham News. The column spoke
of Hunt’s humility and faith during his journey for freedom. Hunt was in Durham
to speak during the annual meeting of Durham Congregations in Action (DCIA). He
approached me after someone informed him I wrote the column he read earlier
that day.
His response
reflected a level of appreciation I have never experienced as a columnist. His voice was broken and his eyes exposed a
few tears.
“Thank you
for what you wrote,” he said. “It means more than you will ever know.”
“I’m amazed
by you,” I responded. “You are a model of strength.”
It’s a point
that Garrett and I shared prior to Hunt’s death. Garrett conducted a screening
of The Trials of Darryl Hunt at Harvard Divinity School in collaboration with
Harvard Law School. Garrett, a Harvard Divinity School graduate, held the
event as the founder and president of Civic Frame, Inc. In addition to Hunt, the
panel included my friend John Mendez, pastor of the Emmanuel Baptist Church in
Winston-Salem, NC, members of Hunt’s legal team, public defense advocates and
Katie Brown who produced the documentary.
Both of us
have been changed after meeting Hunt.
"From
day one, I told them I was innocent,” Hunt said. “And the question has always been, was anybody
listening?”
Is anybody
listening?
There was so
much that deserved our attention. I’m sure his closest friends noticed the
depression that came after Hunt was diagnosed with stage IV prostate cancer. It
had to be hard not to notice the pain after the separation from his wife. She was the rock that anchored him after they
were married during his incarceration. It had to hurt when their love wasn’t
enough to endure the challenges that come with making a marriage work beyond
the limits of prison bars.
Few of us
fully understand the torment of serving 20 years in prison. It has to be worse
when you’re innocent and youth is swallowed up with the passage of the
days. I don’t understand the burden of
incarceration. Few of us do. Prayerfully, we never will.
Hunt
committed suicide.
I’m in no position to judge why he gave up on
life after clinging to the dream of freedom.
Hunt asked if anyone is listening. Maybe he is challenging us to
continue to listen.
Hunt leaves
behind the witness of his struggle for justice.
Maybe his release from prison wasn’t enough to set him free. If so, this
is the strain among those who endure this form of mistreatment.
This is the
weight carried when people fail to listen to the cries of the innocent.
Live well in
paradise my friend.
I hope we are
listening.
