Chris Ochoa spent 12 years of his life on death row in a Texas prison for a murder and rape he did not commit.
In 2001, Ochoa was finally released from prison with his conviction overturned by previously unrevealed DNA evidence.
The exoneration of Ochoa would never have been possible without the efforts of the Wisconsin Innocence Project. After finishing his undergraduate degree in prison, Ochoa is currently a law student at UW. He plans on working for the project once he graduates.
Started by UW-Madison professors Keith Findley and John Pray, the project works to overturn the convictions of inmates who have been wrongly convicted of their crimes.
\It was apparent that there were a fair number of exonerations coming out across the country. I would read these stories in papers where people were in prison for a long, long time, and then someone would find old DNA samples sitting in some dusty warehouse somewhere,"" Pray says.
Freedom is a fundamental part of the American way of life. As American citizens, we are fortunate enough to be able to practice whatever religion we choose, write whatever we want to write, say what is on our minds, and live under the assumption that we will not be imprisoned without good reason and a fair trial. These freedoms are something that people take for granted every day. Hundreds of professors and students from across the nation involved in the Innocence Project fight for the freedom of inmates like Ochoa.
The Innocence Project was founded by Barry C. Scheck of Cardoza Law School in New York City.
""We contacted him, and told him we'd like to start something like that. They were inundated from letters all over the country. They couldn't hope to keep up with it all, and they gave us their support,"" recalls Pray.
From there, Pray and Findley began the Wisconsin Innocence Project. When they began in 1998, there were only three other state innocence projects operating throughout the nation. Now, there are more than three dozen projects, with more to come. Some projects only handle DNA cases, while some deal with a plethora of legal obstacles-all in the name of freedom.
In 1988, Ochoa and his friend, Richard Danzinger, visited a local Pizza Hut for supper. An employee, Nancy DePriest, had been raped and killed several weeks earlier during a robbery, and with the case still unsolved, workers were told by police to remain alert for anything suspicious. Danzinger began to probe a nearby security guard for information pertaining to the crime. Simple curiosity was construed as suspicious behavior, and the police were informed.
Days later, Ochoa was brought in for questioning about the robbery. With this began a nightmare more than a decade in the making for Ochoa; and for others, a lesson on the collapse of the American common law system and the actors in it, Ochoa says.
In the minds of the police, they had their man. Admittedly knowing little about the law, Ochoa was the victim of their ploy, he says.
""They threatened me with the death penalty. They told me they were going to throw me in jail. They told me that I was going to be raped-that I was fresh meat,"" Ochoa adds.
The police told Ochoa he could not have access to an attorney until he was formally charged. That was a lie. Attempting to frighten him into a confession, Ochoa says officers preyed on his lack of legal understanding.
""They showed me pictures of death row. They told me I was going to die, and they pointed to the spot on my arm where they would insert the lethal injection,"" Ochoa says.
Police were certain that there had been two perpetrators in the murder and rape of Nancy DePriest, a theory that was later found to be false, Ochoa says.
Interrogators wanted to guide Ochoa through a confession in which he was the lookout as well as the murderer in the robbery-and his friend, Richard Danzinger, was the rapist.
For one year, Ochoa would not confess. For one year, Ochoa's mother received angry calls from people who were upset about the murder and wanted to see Ochoa found guilty. The agony his mother dealt with finally forced Ochoa to break down and accept the false accusations thrown at him by police.
""I called my attorney, said I didn't want to put my mom through that. I accepted a life sentence. It was the hardest thing I've ever done,"" admits Ochoa, adding, ""I had to plead guilty, and testify against my co-defendant, Richard Danzinger. They really wanted to give him the death penalty, but I took the murder rap and saved us both.""
During his 12 years in prison, Ochoa kept mostly to himself. In 1999, when he became aware of possible DNA evidence that could help his cause, Ochoa contacted Professors Findley and Pray. DNA scanning technology was not advanced enough to help Ochoa when he was first convicted, but now he hoped for a second chance. Fearing that officers would catch wind of his plan and prevent it from materializing, Ochoa told no one.
According to Pray, ""He wrote us a letter in 1999 laying out his whole story. He told us the possibility of there being DNA evidence that could overturn his conviction. Quickly after, the DA was helpful.
""Officials helped us get the DNA evidence in that case. When the results came in, they were totally definitive that this wasn't Chris and it wasn't Richard Danzinger. It was this other guy who had been confessing for years,"" Pray adds.
This ""other guy"" was a convicted felon who was already locked up for previous crimes. Although he provided written confessions more than once, police refused to investigate.
""No one ever believed him, because they had a confession from Chris,"" Pray says.
The majority of cases that Findley, Pray, and their team of law students deal with are DNA related, but not all. Recent advancements in technology have opened new doors for the exoneration of past convictions.
""There is medical evidence, there are new things with arson investigations, there are new things happening in ballistics testing. There are also new witnesses and recanting of old witnesses,"" Pray explains.
Where is Richard Danzinger in all of this? He was released along with Ochoa, but only after being nearly beaten to death by a fellow inmate. Now, Danzinger lives with his family, but most cope with mental disabilities he received from the beating. Danzinger was just a common citizen like anyone else, and the courts determined that he should be thrown in prison.
A third of his life has been spent behind bars. Sadly, Ochoa is not alone. Rest assured, there are more people in prison who do not belong there. As society develops a utopian legal system that is fair and unbiased to all (an apparent impossibility), the Innocence Projects of America will continue to aid the falsely accused. The Project freed its third client last Friday. Evan Zimmerman, an Eau Claire man, was wrongly convicted of killing his former girlfriend.
Considering what has happened to him, Ochoa remains very optimistic as well as realistic about the legal system we live in, but remains wary of individuals operating within it.
""The legal system is just fine,"" Ochoa explains. ""The problem is with the people that are in the system. That's the problem.""
