Part 11 ~ My First Contact With The World of The Media...

I don't know how much of the Detroit area news you might have gotten back then. But the media coverage here was unreal. The reporters had tried and convicted our son's before they had ever gone to court. It was horrible. I never saw anything like then or since.

The Preliminary Hearing had been set for November 8Th. I'll never forget that day, all the thoughts and fears I had. I actually expected to see an angry mob outside the court house, yelling, and throwing stones. I know that sounds silly but if you had lived here and saw the news coverage you would understand why I would think that.

To my astonishment the opposite happened. There was a mob, but when the jail van pulled up with our sons in it, the mob held up their fists, in the sign of Power and Solidarity and chanted..."We know you're innocent, and we love you guys".... I've never been so moved in my life, I nearly fainted. It so reminded me of the "Billy Jack" movie, where in the end the deputies take Billy away. And the people line the road with their fists held high. It gave me the strength I needed. Holding my breath, my head high, and my husband at my side, I walked past the crowd, the reporters, and went into the courthouse.

When we got into the courtroom it was practically standing room only. The 1st 4 rows had been set aside for the poor family of the murdered young man and reporters. My husband and I were able to find a seat. Then I looked back and saw my son's friends parents standing in the back, and there wasn't any seats left. So I moved over to make room for one of the other mothers and as I did so, this reporter pushed past her and sat down. I told him the seat was saved and he said..."Yeah For Me"...Then he pulled an apple out of his pocket and began to eat it. He was a horrible little man, the same reporter who had stood in front of my husband's truck at the arraignment trying to stop him so he could get a few words. The same reporter who had come to our front door the day that my son was arrested and the police told him to go away. threatening him with closing down his paper if they saw any of the officers faces on the news or in the paper.

Through out my son's whole ordeal, I never gave this man an interview. I learned later from the mother of the 16 year old, that he had gone to her house the day they arrested our sons as well and told her he had spoken to both of us other two moms. And we had both said we blamed her son and hated him and his family. Which was a complete fabricated lie. He had her scared to approach either of us. Nice guy eh?

I had given only one interview to a reporter the day my son was arrested. For two reasons, the first was to let everyone know I didn't believe my son was guilty, the second was to convey my deepest sympathies to the family of the murdered young man. And I had specifically told this young reporter that I was only giving him the interview if he made sure both points were printed. The next day when I read his article I was mortified to see he had twisted everything I had said, and Never mentioned my sympathy for the victims family. I called him crying and asked why. He wasn't very sympathetic, and actually rude. I never gave him another interview either.

By this point we had been told by the new attorney we had hired, not to give any more statements. So for a while, we did not. Though I'll always wish we had.

The world of the media is so different then people realize. They think it's way to get information and truth on the current events effecting their world. In actuality it's just another form of entertainment. A way to make money. Printing the actual truth, is almost non existent. I don't know how many times I sat in court and thought "Wow, wait til this is put out there.." Only to see or read the news the next day and wonder if the reporters were in the same courtroom as we were.

I recall in court that first day, two young women reporters, sitting waiting for court to begin. They were talking of one of theirs wedding plans. When they brought our sons in to the room in striped uniforms, bullet proof vests, and chains. This was the very first time I had seen my son in person since they had arrested him. I nearly threw up and then I heard the one woman reporter laugh and say to the other .."That one should be found guilty just for the color of his hair alone"... These were our sons, our children, our boys. They knew we were sitting and standing just feet away.

We were crying, and they were joking.

Part 10~The Fight For My Son's Life Began

So here I was. My 18 son was in jail, accused of a murder I knew in my heart he did not commit. A murder he told me he did not commit.



What do I do? What do I say? Where did I go from here? What was next? All I could do was what I thought was right. I had no experience. No real knowledge of the legal system. I wasn't wealthy be any stretch of the word. I was just a clerk at a local department store, making a little above minimum wage. My husband was a skilled laborer. Together we were making just enough to survive. We had 7 children, 4 were still living at home and 1 was in college up North.



My son had been given a court appointed attorney. That attorney later called me and told me point blank that he didn't have the means it would take to defend my son, this case was just too big. That I needed a lawyer with what he called a 'war chest'. And the funds just were not there for him being a court appointed attorney.



I got on the phone and called a cousin of mine who was a lawyer. I explained what was going on. He told me he had seen the news all that day. I told him we needed a good lawyer and I needed his help to find one. He himself was not a criminal lawyer. But he said he knew a few different ones and he would get back with me as soon as possible.



In the mean time I also called the lawyer my brother in-law had told me about. We set up an appointment with that lawyer while we waited to hear back from my cousin. We went and spoke with this lawyer and I liked him quite a bit. He had already researched my son's case and had spoken with him. He said he believed my son but with this signed statement it was going to be a very tough case. He then told us he would need 75,000. just to be retained, and there would be more fees as the case progressed. I was crushed. There was no way we could ever come up with the sum he asked for.



My cousin then came through. He had a Friend who was a very good criminal lawyer and had a lot of experience with high profile cases. And as a favor to my cousin, he went and spoke with my son. He then said he believed my son and he would take the case for a much lower fee. So we remortgaged our home, borrowed money from family, and Jon's father, my ex. And we retained this lawyer. I had heard it said once that this lawyer was the lawyer's lawyer. I believe we hired the best we could.



I did not know at that time the other two boys parents or families. Unknowingly we had all done the same thing and hired the best lawyers we could. None of us went with the court appointed attorneys. This wasn't something that the authorities thought would ever happen.



I will always believe that the authorities, thought that this would be a slam dunk case. That they had three troubled youths, from troubled homes and who's families did not care about them. I think they thought they'd all have court appointed attorneys and they would all "plea" and the case would be closed.



However, these were not three throw away boys from bad homes. Troubled youths perhaps. But they had families who loved them, cared about them, and who all separately swore to stand behind them. I truly believe had they known "Us" at all they never would have settled on our three sons.



The authorities were in for a fight they never expected.

Part~9 Back Tracking A Bit....

So far I've talked of my son and what he, myself and our family had been going through. But there is much more to this story. There were two other young men who were arrested along with my son. His two friends who he had been with at the bonfire the night the young man was killed at the pizzeria.

So many things had happened in the week after this young man had been murdered. And prior to my son's arrest.

Another pizzeria affiliated with the one in town was also robbed. And the night before they picked up my son. The police went to a home in Detroit and tried to arrest a man there on the suspicion he had killed the young man here. They televised the whole thing on the evening news. The man had actually been found at the house next door to the one they went to, and he was hiding under a bed. They took him in. He was giving a lie detector test and passed.

They next day was they day they came for my son. He had been out walking around the subdivision behind us with his girlfriend. When out of no where, came a couple of dark unmarked SUV's speeding up on them. When they stopped abruptly, men dressed in black came running out and surrounded my son and his girlfriend with their guns drawn. They told my son to get in the vehicle and told his girlfriend to follow them.

My son later told us how they drove at a high rate of speed through the local streets. He said he wasn't even sure who they were. And he remembered being scared and thinking these men were going to kill him. He said his girlfriend had trouble keeping up with them but some how managed.

Let me stop here now and explain something. In early Oct. a friend of my son had been ambushed and shot in a home of a neighbor. He was still in the hospital in a coma. And at that time they still had not found the person or persons who had did it. And here was some men dressed all in black surrounding my son with guns drawn. This for sure added to the fear my son was experiencing and why he thought these men might kill him. I'll always believe that these men, these officers were totally aware of that fact. And that is why they did it the way they did. I'll be the first to say my son was no angel, he had had a few run ins with the local police, he had two MIP's (minor in possession) and a few minor contacts with the police. But nothing like this. The police set the stage that night before they even had my son in the station. Also if you remember me saying in the beginning of this story, they hadn't taken my son to the police station here in town, they took him to another station. So he had no clue where he was going until he got there.

Now at the station, they told his girlfriend to go home, and they began their night of interrogation.They questioned my son and asked him who he had been with the night of the murder in town. When my son told them. Some officers left and went to round them up too.

Now they had three boys. My son, his friend a 16 year old, and his friend's friend, a 19 year old. They took them all separately into different rooms. The 16 year old by Michigan law had to have his parents present during his questioning. My son had just turned 18 three weeks earlier. He and the 19 year old were considered adults and were not allowed to have their parents present.

They questioned these boys for hours. The 16 year old was the only one of the three who did not confess. He was also the only one who's parents were allowed to be there too. The police did try and get the 16 year old to sign a blank confession, his parents would not let him of course. His parents also heard the sounds of what they thought were chairs and things being thrown and loud voices.

My son and the 19 year old both ended up signing confessions. Neither of their confessions matched each others and were riddled with in consistencies. My son told me he wrote what he was told. The other young man's statement was written by an officer with the 19 year old's initials next to each statement. With these statements the police felt they had enough to arrest the 16 year old as well.

In the early hours of Oct 26th 2000, and without my knowledge, my 18 year old son and his two friends were arrested for a murder they did not commit. What my son didn't know nor did we, was that by signing that piece of paper he had basically signed his life away. They were not going to let him go like they had said. Even though they never ever found any evidence that placed our son or his two friends at the scene of the crime. Not a finger print, no DNA , no smoking gun, and no witnesses. All they ever had were these two statements which both my son and the 19 year old recanted and said were coerced.


How would the boys know that by signing those statements,it was like a binding contract. They wouldn't. We didn't. But the officers knew.

Part~8 Why Would Anyone Confess...

So now we waited for the minister to return with word on our son. We waited till late evening and good to his word, he did return. He said he had taken Jon a letter his sister had wrote him and read it to him, because he wasn't allowed to give Jon anything. He said Jon looked as good as could be expected and he was holding up. That he wanted us to know he did not do this, and that he loved us very much. The minister told Jon we loved him and we knew he didn't do it. That we were behind him a 100%.



Then the minister handed my husband a napkin that he had written information that Jon had given him. He said that Jon told him he had been at a bonfire the night that the murder occurred. that he wasn't anywhere near our town. And there were several people that could verify he was there all night. And also that his two friends were there as well. He gave him phone numbers and names. The minister spoke with us for a while and then he prayed with us and left. We were so very grateful to this man. A perfect stranger who had been more than kind to us and his act of kindness would prove to be very helpful in the coming future. My husband then took the list of numbers and names and started making phone calls. He talked with several people.



Now you are probably asking yourself at this point.."But he confessed? Why would he confess if he didn't do it, especially to a murder?"...



Let me say, I have done a lot of research on my own during my son's case and for years after. People confess to things they didn't do for many different reasons. You probably picture a scene where a suspect is being beaten physically. But that isn't the case. It's a psychological beating so to speak. They are actually taught how to interrogate. The technique that the police are trained to use during an interrogation is very much a psychological game for lack of a better word. They are allowed to lie, but not allowed to threaten, yet some do. They are not supposed with hold the suspect food,drink, or the bathroom. They are not allowed to promise the suspect anything either. They spend a great deal of time convincing the suspect that they may have very well blacked out what they have done. They tell them that their friend confessed, even if they haven't. And they keep them away from everyone except them.

Jon was questioned for hours and withheld any contact from anyone in his family. He was told when he asked for me that I didn't want him. He was told his friends both confessed and said "He" did the murder. He heard what sounded like chairs and things being thrown, and loud voices. Jon was told that the FBI would be coming in next to question him and they didn't like him. He was told that there were men in prison that didn't like boys like him and bad things would happen. He had been there for hours and was crying he wanted to go home. After hours and hours of denying being there or knowing anything about it.  He was told just confess, if you didn't do it then there won't be any evidence and they'll have to let you go home, otherwise with your friends all ready confessing and you not, it won't look good or go well, just say it was accident. He was also told by one officer, that the officer new the judge and he would put a good for him, and he might go easier on him. He'd been going through this for hours. He was tired, scared, and alone. He had asked for a lawyer but they never gave him one. Questioning by law should have stopped right then and there. But they continued.

My son was taught since he was small to trust the police. And he did trust them. He believed them. So in the very end he did what he was told. And he confessed...To a horrible murder he did not do.

Part 7 ~ We Lost Family And Friends....

So there we were finally alone in our home. The police had left and it almost felt like they had sucked the air right out with them. Depressurized almost, for lack of a better word.


Our house was in shambles along with our lives. Our whole world turned up side down in less then 24 hours. I had pinched myself hoping against hope that I would awaken and this would be all just a horrible nightmare...No such luck. This was reality. Our new reality. Our lives were now changed forever.


The minister had also left and we were waiting for him to give us word on our son. I hadn't seen my son since early the day before. Little did I know it would be weeks until I would see him again. Which would be behind a glass window at the county jail. I can't tell you how badly I wanted to just hug him and tell him I Loved him. But for now I could only rely on the kindness of a stranger.

I tried to compose myself as best as I could. So I could deal with my children and all the calls that were now streaming in. All day the phone had been quiet. Now it seemed like it had a life of it's own. I answered all the calls, who knows it might have been my son. But It never was. Whoever said.."You have a right to one phone call"...Didn't live here.


I called my cousin who was a lawyer. This wasn't his specialty but he referred me to someone he knew who could help. My brother in-law also gave us his lawyer's number.


I made a few more phone calls to some of our family and friends. Some were willing to listen and were willing to be there for us. Others were not. The old saying is true... "You don't really know who you can count on until your back is against the wall". We did lose family and friends over this.


My children were now calming down as best as they could under the circumstances. My 14 year old daughter asked if she could go for a walk. I really didn't want any of my children out walking, especially alone. God knows the last time one of them did he didn't come home. But she has always been a very independent child. And very sensible beyond her years. She pleaded with me over and over. She said she needed to just be away from our house after being here all day literally locked in side. She needed time alone to think.


I don't know who I was more afraid of. The people who were angry, the reporters, or unfortunately the police themselves. I had been telling my children since they were old enough to understand. That if they ever became separated or lost from me, to go to a police officer, and they will bring you home. That they could trust them even if they were strangers. Perhaps that's why my son trusted them so much? Unfortunatly I don't think I would tell them that, had I had to do it over.


My daughter was persistent, but I had visions of people showing up at our door like a scene from an old Frankenstein movie, with pitchforks, rakes, and torches. I know that might sound silly to most people. But the news coverage on this case for the past week had been unbelievable and people were angry. The town was demanding they find who did this. So they could feel that their sleepy little lakeside community was again safe, and they wouldn't need to lock their doors anymore. The news had reported over and over.."This quiet community hasn't seen a murder here in over 30 years"...


Against my better judgment I let her go. Some might think I was a bad mother. But we had been held against our will here for nearly a whole day. Even for me this home I had felt was a safe haven, now felt violated and stifling. I suppose not trying to make exuses, I wasn't totaly thinking clearly? I see now that I shouldn't have. But I did, telling her to only be gone a very short time. And she was only gone a shot time. But while she was out walking, an adult we were related to distantly by marriage, approached her and asked how she could show her face. That her brother was a killer. He said a few more choice words. But I'm sure you got the idea. She came home angry and in tears. This was a grown adult, she was just 14. And someone who she thought was a friend of our family.


This behavior was indicative to the way the community and many people would treat my family in the coming months. And why the Frankenstein movie kept playing in over my mind. Yet there were many who stood behind us and my son.


That evening of my son's arrest, reminded me of the day my mother past away. Family and Friends alike, relatives I hadn't seen in years, and even strangers who I'd never met, actually came to our door. Some came to just give us their support, others with food or even cards. I was so moved by their show of support. And the fact that they actually came to our house. Earlier that day I had one person tell me they didn't want to come over because they had a company sticker on their car, they were afraid that their car might be shown on the news. I had pictured this big magnetic type sign that people put on there cars. Later when I saw it, it was the size of half a bumper sticker.


One thing this whole ordeal was teaching me was tolerance. And to accept that everyone has a right to their own opinions. But I was going to show them they were wrong. My son's life was literally hanging in the balance. My son's reputation along with our family's was also at stake. My children had to go back to school in the next few days and face the community's children. I worked 5 miles away. Everyday in my line of work I dealt with the public and the public were people in our community. My husband's family had lived here over 30 years. My mother in-law was a huge part of her church and well known.


I had the fight of my life ahead of me and not a clue what to do. I just knew that I had to. How many times I had wished that my mother was still alive to comfort me and give me advice. I really needed her. But then at the same time I was so glad she didn't have to go through this. My son and my mother were close. She didn't have to see the horrible picture on the news of my son being led to court. Or hear the awful things that were being said.


I was the mother now like it or not...