If you read Texas Monthly last month, chances are you were riveted by the first installment of “The Innocent Man,” a remarkable two-part story by executive editor Pamela Colloff about the wrongful conviction and imprisonment of Michael Morton. As many people are by now well aware, Morton spent 25 years behind bars for a crime he did not commit—the brutal 1986 murder of his wife, Christine. A little over a year ago, he was released from prison and fully exonerated.
The athletic director for Texas A&M University-Kingsville was arrested last week for allegedly pointing a camera up a teenage girl's skirt in a San Antonio Walmart.
The Corpus Christi Caller-Times reported that Brian DeAngelis, 39, was charged with improper photography after a police officer found video a of woman's undergarments on his phone.
Alligator gar have a bad reputation in Texas: scaly, ornery, and ugly, they look like a creature straight from the Cretaceous Period. But one Florida man recently received nine months in prison for pulling four gar from the Trinity River and shipping them to Japan.
I’ve written many criminal justice stories for Texas Monthly over the past thirteen years, and many of those involved inmates who claimed they were innocent. Some, I’m pretty sure, were guilty; others, I became convinced, were not. Almost all of the deserving ones eventually got justice. Only one of them has never received his due. His name is Richard LaFuente and he was wrongly convicted of being part of the murder of a policeman on a North Dakota Indian reservation 29 years ago.
What has been going on at Lackland Air Force Base?
Would a vampire avail himself of the American legal system? Well, one Texas inmate who claims to be a Vampire High Priest tried to do just that. But he was dealt a blow Thursday when the U.S. Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals dismissed his nine-page lawsuit, dubbing it frivolous. (For a lesson in frivolity, the judges should watch more True Blood.)
The Columbia University Human Rights Law Review devoted its entire Spring 2012 issue to a single article, which alleges that in 1989 the state of Texas executed an innocent man, Carlos De Luna, for the 1983 murder of Wanda Lopez at a Corpus Christi gas station.
Brandi Grissom of the Texas Tribune reports on a bizarre twist in the saga of Kerry Max Cook, who was in jail from 1978 to 1999 for a murder he did not commit, but has never been formally exonerated of despite two reversed convictions, a mistrial, and a "no contest" plea deal.
What did Kerry Max Cook actually win on Monday, when Dallas judge John Ovard ruled he was entitled to DNA testing on any other evidence found at the crime scene of Linda Jo Edwards’ 1977 rape and murder? Not a lot, most likely.
A couple of Fridays ago, Kerry Max Cook, who was released from Texas’ death row in 1997 after two decades, went to pick up his eleven-year-old son, Kerry Justice, from his North Dallas school. Class was just letting out. As Cook approached a group of children and their parents, a little girl squirmed out of her mother’s arms and ran toward him. “Mr. Kerry!” she called. He laughed as she jumped into his arms. “Haleigh!” he shouted, and began tickling her. “She adores Mr. Kerry,” her mother said.