One Minute Remaining - Stories from the inmates

Well it's that time again! The Facebook group of legendery jurors have been busy coming up with a stack of great questions for me to answer so in this episode I take on all of them! We chat everything from how I choose the show music, what I think of the death penalty and which show is my least favourite to make!! It's a good one.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For many men and women incarcerated across the United States, once all legal options for release have been exhausted, there is often one last avenue to hope for: clemency.Clemency in most states is at the discretion of a single person – the governor. This is not to be confused with presidential pardons, as the president can only grant clemency in federal cases, while state-level clemency sits with state governors. Governors hold an incredible power: the ability to effectively give someone their life back, someone who might otherwise be condemned to die behind bars.Of course, like most things, it’s never guaranteed. The exact number of clemencies granted isn’t clear, but it’s fair to say that, compared to the number of people incarcerated, the figure is extremely small. For a fortunate few, though, that mercy does come.Today I speak with one of those people. A man whose story we covered some time ago.Shawn Robert Johnson was staring down a minimum of more than 60 years in prison before he would even be eligible for parole. Instead, this Christmas he will be going home to his family after just shy of 20 years behind bars.Today we catch up to talk about how it happened – and what his plans are for life on the outside.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In today’s episode, I catch up with John Merritt, who’s been navigating a very serious health crisis. John talks me through how a growth on his head was left untreated for so long that he was rushed to hospital and diagnosed with cancer. He underwent surgery, but the doctor who operated on him failed to recognise just how severe the situation really was.John explains what the last few months have been like and the conditions he faced inside a facility for sick prisoners — conditions that sound like something straight out of a horror film. This story genuinely gave me nightmares.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------John Merritt has been behind bars for longer than I’ve been alive. Like many of the men and women we speak to, John’s early life was marked by encounters with the law—mostly for petty, non-violent offences. He became trapped in a cycle, moving in and out of the system, until one day, while serving time for burglary, his life took an even darker turn.A visit from a sheriff's investigator would change the course of his life forever, propelling him down an unexpected and terrifying path toward the death penalty for a crime he says he didn’t commit.In the end, John faced a grim choice: life in prison or the electric chair.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

He’s simply a man who doesn’t stop. Since being exonerated for a crime that saw him spend almost 27 years behind bars, Evaristo Salas Jnr has wasted no time making up for the life that was taken from him.In this catch-up, we dive into everything he’s achieved in the two years since his release. He’s travelled across the United States giving talks to everyone from school kids to some of the top legal minds in the country. He’s started a business, founded a non-profit, and even taken his message as far as Europe.But the last two years, while full of incredible moments, haven’t been without challenges. Jnr opens up about the times he’s caught the old prison mentality creeping back in — and how he’s learning to navigate freedom after nearly three decades inside.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today I catch up with David Talley — a man serving a 100-year prison sentence for crimes that should only have carried a decade behind bars.Now, more than 20 years later, David is still fighting for a resentencing hearing. We talk about how that fight is progressing, and about a recent stint in confinement following an issue with his cellmate.Despite the contraband not being his, David was punished — spending two months in segregation, losing his job, his cell, and now finding himself housed in a punishment wing surrounded by drugs, gangs, and violence… all at the age of 63.A raw and honest look inside one man’s ongoing struggle for justice and survival behind bars. If you know of someone who can help David please get in touch hereEARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today I catch up with Jeremy Cain for an update on what’s been happening with his case since we last spoke.After his story aired on One Minute Remaining, the community of Pleasant Grove came together to raise awareness and funds to support the Cain brothers. Their efforts made it possible to hire an attorney — but what, if anything, did that attorney achieve? And where does the case stand now?I also need your help to keep spreading the word about the Cain brothers’ fight for freedom. If you can assist with sharing their story, whether through community boards, advertising, or outreach, please get in touch. HEREA powerful follow-up on one of OMR’s most talked-about stories, exploring hope, persistence, and the fight for freedom.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today I catch up with Tariq Maqbool to get the latest on his bid for clemency with the governor.We explore life inside prison and what happens when men become institutionalised, incarcerated for so long that freedom itself becomes something to fear. Many struggle with the idea of release, stepping back into the shadows rather than walking into the light.Tariq also opens up about his favourite film, Shawshank Redemption, and how closely it mirrors the realities of prison life. He’s met men like Brooks — those broken by the system and lives by the same mantra that defines the film: get busy living, or get busy dying.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

We have just wrapped up the story of Dwight Bergeron who has served over 30 years of his three life sentences for what the authorities say was his crime of sexual assualt against his own children. I crime he and those children, now adults say he didn't commit. Today I sit down with one of Dwights kids to see what he remembers from all those years ago.---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name.Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today we catch up woth the man they call 'The voice of reson' Michael Leonard from Leonard trial lawyers in Chicargo illanois to get his take on the case against Dwight Bergeron.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name.Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name.Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name.Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Over the past three years, I’ve spoken with men and women incarcerated across the United States, from Florida to Alaska, New Jersey to Louisiana, and everywhere in between.In that time, I’ve told the stories of more than 50 prisoners, many facing decades behind bars. From murder and arson to drug trafficking, gang warfare and stay at home mums convicted of attempted murder, I’ve heard it all. I’ve witnessed two exonerations along the way and even spoken to a man just months before the state of Missouri put him to death for a crime thousands believe he didn’t commit.But these aren’t just stories of crime and punishment. They’re stories of real people, lives shaped by circumstance, injustice, and resilience. Stories that need to be heard to be believed.Pull up a chair at the jury table… because what you’re about to hear might just change everything you thought you knew.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name.Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name.Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name. Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name. Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name. Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name. Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name. Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

PLEASE BE ADVISED: This story contains subject matter that some may find upsetting. Listener discretion is advised.In the sweltering bayous of southern Louisiana, Dwight “Jerome” Bergeron grew up hard. As a boy, he trapped raccoons, muskrats, and nutria for pocket money, learning survival before he ever learned opportunity. He left school in the 11th grade, trained in plumbing at Vo-Tech, and once dreamed of repairing helicopters in the Army, a dream that died when his recruiter told him his certificate wasn’t enough.Instead, Dwight built a life for himself and his children on the bayou. But in the early 1990s, everything changed. His kids were removed from his home and placed with adoptive parents. Soon after, accusations surfaced, claims that Dwight had harmed the very children he loved. There was no physical evidence. Medical exams were inconclusive. But the state had some powerful words from his own children, testimony that was enough to secure his conviction.Dwight was sentenced to life, while his partner Angela, under intense pressure from prosecutors, took a plea deal she said was forced upon her. Both went to prison.Now, decades later, the children, now adults, have spoken. In sworn statements and letters, they insist their father never harmed them, that they were manipulated as kids, and that their testimony was built on lies told to keep them from returning home.Dwight has spent his life behind bars maintaining his innocence, while his children fight to clear his name. Echoes from the Bayou is the story of a man condemned on the word of children, the family torn apart, and the haunting possibility that Louisiana’s justice system got it wrong.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Trinity Mattherson is not a man who claims he is a saint, he's not a man who says he did no wrong in his life. He is a man who grew up on the streets, with little to no rules from inside his home, a home where his parents battled drug and alcohol dependecy. From a young age Trinity would need to learn how to look after himself, how to provide and care for not only his own well being but also his mothers.That need, he said, took him to the streets, as a white kid in a black neigbourhood he foundhimself as one of the few white guys joining the notorious street gang, the bloods.Spending most of his adolescence locked up in various juvenile facilities Trinity bounced around until he eventualy found himself in an adult facility after he and two others made a daring escape.In 2002, Trinity paroled to Michigan looking to make a fresh start away from the people and places he knew would only mean touble. Nine months after his arrival he was attacked while attempting to break up a fight at a crowded house party. Two people are shot in the melee and Trinity says he was wrongfully convicted of the shooting of one of the men involved in the altercation. Multiple witnesses were questioned by the police, with just one pointing the finger at Trinity. That witness, who originally identified the shooter as being a light-skinned black man, was released from probation the day after giving his testimony. The other victim maintained it was a light skinned black man who had the weapon and had shot at them.Even though none of the victims received life threatening injuries, because of his prior record, Trinity was sentenced to serve 42 to 72 years in prison.This is his story.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Trinity Mattherson is not a man who claims he is a saint, he's not a man who says he did no wrong in his life. He is a man who grew up on the streets, with little to no rules from inside his home, a home where his parents battled drug and alcohol dependecy. From a young age Trinity would need to learn how to look after himself, how to provide and care for not only his own well being but also his mothers.That need, he said, took him to the streets, as a white kid in a black neigbourhood he foundhimself as one of the few white guys joining the notorious street gang, the bloods.Spending most of his adolescence locked up in various juvenile facilities Trinity bounced around until he eventualy found himself in an adult facility after he and two others made a daring escape.In 2002, Trinity paroled to Michigan looking to make a fresh start away from the people and places he knew would only mean touble. Nine months after his arrival he was attacked while attempting to break up a fight at a crowded house party. Two people are shot in the melee and Trinity says he was wrongfully convicted of the shooting of one of the men involved in the altercation. Multiple witnesses were questioned by the police, with just one pointing the finger at Trinity. That witness, who originally identified the shooter as being a light-skinned black man, was released from probation the day after giving his testimony. The other victim maintained it was a light skinned black man who had the weapon and had shot at them.Even though none of the victims received life threatening injuries, because of his prior record, Trinity was sentenced to serve 42 to 72 years in prison.This is his story.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Trinity Mattherson is not a man who claims he is a saint, he's not a man who says he did no wrong in his life. He is a man who grew up on the streets, with little to no rules from inside his home, a home where his parents battled drug and alcohol dependecy. From a young age Trinity would need to learn how to look after himself, how to provide and care for not only his own well being but also his mothers.That need, he said, took him to the streets, as a white kid in a black neigbourhood he foundhimself as one of the few white guys joining the notorious street gang, the bloods.Spending most of his adolescence locked up in various juvenile facilities Trinity bounced around until he eventualy found himself in an adult facility after he and two others made a daring escape.In 2002, Trinity paroled to Michigan looking to make a fresh start away from the people and places he knew would only mean touble. Nine months after his arrival he was attacked while attempting to break up a fight at a crowded house party. Two people are shot in the melee and Trinity says he was wrongfully convicted of the shooting of one of the men involved in the altercation. Multiple witnesses were questioned by the police, with just one pointing the finger at Trinity. That witness, who originally identified the shooter as being a light-skinned black man, was released from probation the day after giving his testimony. The other victim maintained it was a light skinned black man who had the weapon and had shot at them.Even though none of the victims received life threatening injuries, because of his prior record, Trinity was sentenced to serve 42 to 72 years in prison.This is his story.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Trinity Mattherson is not a man who claims he is a saint, he's not a man who says he did no wrong in his life. He is a man who grew up on the streets, with little to no rules from inside his home, a home where his parents battled drug and alcohol dependecy. From a young age Trinity would need to learn how to look after himself, how to provide and care for not only his own well being but also his mothers.That need, he said, took him to the streets, as a white kid in a black neigbourhood he foundhimself as one of the few white guys joining the notorious street gang, the bloods.Spending most of his adolescence locked up in various juvenile facilities Trinity bounced around until he eventualy found himself in an adult facility after he and two others made a daring escape.In 2002, Trinity paroled to Michigan looking to make a fresh start away from the people and places he knew would only mean touble. Nine months after his arrival he was attacked while attempting to break up a fight at a crowded house party. Two people are shot in the melee and Trinity says he was wrongfully convicted of the shooting of one of the men involved in the altercation. Multiple witnesses were questioned by the police, with just one pointing the finger at Trinity. That witness, who originally identified the shooter as being a light-skinned black man, was released from probation the day after giving his testimony. The other victim maintained it was a light skinned black man who had the weapon and had shot at them.Even though none of the victims received life threatening injuries, because of his prior record, Trinity was sentenced to serve 42 to 72 years in prison. This is his story.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

We recently wrapped up the story of Pamela Schrader, who is serving life without parole for a murder she insists she had no part in. Under Florida’s unique laws, however, she was found guilty and sentenced for the death of her employer.The actual killing was carried out by Noe Peña, who admitted to the crime but claimed Pam orchestrated it. He took a plea deal, receiving a 30-year sentence with the possibility of parole, while Pam faces the prospect of dying behind bars.The central question remains: was this an independent act by the killer, or was Pam equally culpable? The jury said yes but what does our resident legal expert, “The Voice of Reason” Michael Leonard, think? I sat down with him to find out.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

For the past three years, Jack Laurence has gone behind the bars of America’s toughest prisons, hearing the stories of robbery, arson, murder, and everything in between. He thought he’d heard it all… until he met one prisoner with a story unlike any other.A man who wasn’t just fighting for his freedom, but was on the verge of becoming one of the richest prisoners in the world, by suing Sean “P. Diddy” Combs for $100 million.But that was only the beginning. What Jack uncovered was a rabbit hole of alleged assault, corruption, cover-ups, and murder. A story so unbelievable it made headlines around the globe and left him questioning everything he thought he knew.If you think you’ve heard it all before when it comes to crime stories… you haven’t heard anything like this.listen hereEARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

We recently wrapped up the story of Dustin Turner, a man serving a life sentence for the murder of a young woman named Jennifer Evans. Since his incarceration, his co-accused, Billy Brown, has testified in court that the evidence he originally gave about what happened that night was fabricated. Brown admitted he alone committed the murder, while Dustin was merely a bystander who helped cover up the crime. Despite a panel of three judges finding Dustin factually innocent, the Governor intervened and blocked his release, leaving him with no other option but the hope of parole.As always, once we conclude these cases, I sit down with Michael Leonard, the man they call the voice of reason, from Leonard Trial Lawyers in Chicago, Illinois, to get his thoughts on the case.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In the Navy SEALs, no rule is more sacred than this: you never leave your swim buddy. For Dustin “Dusty” Turner, that bond would change the course of his life forever.In 1995, Dusty and his swim buddy Billy Brown went out for what was meant to be a simple night of drinks. By the next morning, a young woman by the name of Jennifer Evans was dead, eight days later Billy and Dusty are arrested and eventually both are convicted of the crime.Despite overwhelming evidence that his Navy SEAL Swim-Buddy who later confessed to the crime was the true perpetrator, Turner was sentenced to 82 years without the possibility of parole. The actual killer who was also convicted of attempted rape, received a lesser sentence of 72 years.The case took a dramatic turn in 1999 when Brown confessed that he alone had killed Jennifer and stated that Dusty had no role in her death. Neither Dusty, the jury that convicted him nor the public learned of this confession until 2002. Shortly thereafter, Dusty filed a petition for a Writ of Innocence. At an evidentiary hearing on the petition in 2008, Brown provided in detail testimony that laid bare his own guilt for Jennifer’s murder.Dusty also testified at the hearing. Both men gave the same account of what happened that Dusty gave his Warrant Officer eight days after Jennifer’s death.The court would rule the following "this court finally finds that Mr. Brown is credible in his assertion that he acted independently in murdering the victim and that Mr. Turner had no role in the murder or in the restraining of the victim." Based on the findings of Judge Lowe, a 2 to 1 panel of Judges at the Virginia Court of Appeals granted Dusty a Writ of Innocence holding that he was, in fact, “actually innocent” and should be set free.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In the Navy SEALs, no rule is more sacred than this: you never leave your swim buddy. For Dustin “Dusty” Turner, that bond would change the course of his life forever.In 1995, Dusty and his swim buddy Billy Brown went out for what was meant to be a simple night of drinks. By the next morning, a young woman by the name of Jennifer Evans was dead, eight days later Billy and Dusty are arrested and eventually both are convicted of the crime.Despite overwhelming evidence that his Navy SEAL Swim-Buddy who later confessed to the crime was the true perpetrator, Turner was sentenced to 82 years without the possibility of parole. The actual killer who was also convicted of attempted rape, received a lesser sentence of 72 years.The case took a dramatic turn in 1999 when Brown confessed that he alone had killed Jennifer and stated that Dusty had no role in her death. Neither Dusty, the jury that convicted him nor the public learned of this confession until 2002. Shortly thereafter, Dusty filed a petition for a Writ of Innocence. At an evidentiary hearing on the petition in 2008, Brown provided in detail testimony that laid bare his own guilt for Jennifer’s murder.Dusty also testified at the hearing. Both men gave the same account of what happened that Dusty gave his Warrant Officer eight days after Jennifer’s death.The court would rule the following "this court finally finds that Mr. Brown is credible in his assertion that he acted independently in murdering the victim and that Mr. Turner had no role in the murder or in the restraining of the victim." Based on the findings of Judge Lowe, a 2 to 1 panel of Judges at the Virginia Court of Appeals granted Dusty a Writ of Innocence holding that he was, in fact, “actually innocent” and should be set free.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In the Navy SEALs, no rule is more sacred than this: you never leave your swim buddy. For Dustin “Dusty” Turner, that bond would change the course of his life forever.In 1995, Dusty and his swim buddy Billy Brown went out for what was meant to be a simple night of drinks. By the next morning, a young woman by the name of Jennifer Evans was dead, eight days later Billy and Dusty are arrested and eventually both are convicted of the crime.Despite overwhelming evidence that his Navy SEAL Swim-Buddy who later confessed to the crime was the true perpetrator, Turner was sentenced to 82 years without the possibility of parole. The actual killer who was also convicted of attempted rape, received a lesser sentence of 72 years.The case took a dramatic turn in 1999 when Brown confessed that he alone had killed Jennifer and stated that Dusty had no role in her death. Neither Dusty, the jury that convicted him nor the public learned of this confession until 2002. Shortly thereafter, Dusty filed a petition for a Writ of Innocence. At an evidentiary hearing on the petition in 2008, Brown provided in detail testimony that laid bare his own guilt for Jennifer’s murder.Dusty also testified at the hearing. Both men gave the same account of what happened that Dusty gave his Warrant Officer eight days after Jennifer’s death.The court would rule the following "this court finally finds that Mr. Brown is credible in his assertion that he acted independently in murdering the victim and that Mr. Turner had no role in the murder or in the restraining of the victim." Based on the findings of Judge Lowe, a 2 to 1 panel of Judges at the Virginia Court of Appeals granted Dusty a Writ of Innocence holding that he was, in fact, “actually innocent” and should be set free.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In the Navy SEALs, no rule is more sacred than this: you never leave your swim buddy. For Dustin “Dusty” Turner, that bond would change the course of his life forever.In 1995, Dusty and his swim buddy Billy Brown went out for what was meant to be a simple night of drinks. By the next morning, a young woman by the name of Jennifer Evans was dead, eight days later Billy and Dusty are arrested and eventually both are convicted of the crime.Despite overwhelming evidence that his Navy SEAL Swim-Buddy who later confessed to the crime was the true perpetrator, Turner was sentenced to 82 years without the possibility of parole. The actual killer who was also convicted of attempted rape, received a lesser sentence of 72 years.The case took a dramatic turn in 1999 when Brown confessed that he alone had killed Jennifer and stated that Dusty had no role in her death. Neither Dusty, the jury that convicted him nor the public learned of this confession until 2002. Shortly thereafter, Dusty filed a petition for a Writ of Innocence. At an evidentiary hearing on the petition in 2008, Brown provided in detail testimony that laid bare his own guilt for Jennifer’s murder.Dusty also testified at the hearing. Both men gave the same account of what happened that Dusty gave his Warrant Officer eight days after Jennifer’s death.The court would rule the following "this court finally finds that Mr. Brown is credible in his assertion that he acted independently in murdering the victim and that Mr. Turner had no role in the murder or in the restraining of the victim." Based on the findings of Judge Lowe, a 2 to 1 panel of Judges at the Virginia Court of Appeals granted Dusty a Writ of Innocence holding that he was, in fact, “actually innocent” and should be set free.So why after 30 years is Dustin Turner still in prison?EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In the Navy SEALs, no rule is more sacred than this: you never leave your swim buddy. For Dustin “Dusty” Turner, that bond would change the course of his life forever. In 1995, Dusty and his swim buddy Billy Brown went out for what was meant to be a simple night of drinks. By the next morning, a young woman by the name of Jennifer Evans was dead, eight days later Billy and Dusty are arrested and eventually both are convicted of the crime. Despite overwhelming evidence that his Navy SEAL Swim-Buddy who later confessed to the crime was the true perpetrator, Turner was sentenced to 82 years without the possibility of parole. The actual killer who was also convicted of attempted rape, received a lesser sentence of 72 years. The case took a dramatic turn in 1999 when Brown confessed that he alone had killed Jennifer and stated that Dusty had no role in her death. Neither Dusty, the jury that convicted him nor the public learned of this confession until 2002. Shortly thereafter, Dusty filed a petition for a Writ of Innocence. At an evidentiary hearing on the petition in 2008, Brown provided in detail testimony that laid bare his own guilt for Jennifer’s murder. Dusty also testified at the hearing. Both men gave the same account of what happened that Dusty gave his Warrant Officer eight days after Jennifer’s death.The court would rule the following "this court finally finds that Mr. Brown is credible in his assertion that he acted independently in murdering the victim and that Mr. Turner had no role in the murder or in the restraining of the victim." Based on the findings of Judge Lowe, a 2 to 1 panel of Judges at the Virginia Court of Appeals granted Dusty a Writ of Innocence holding that he was, in fact, “actually innocent” and should be set free.So why after 30 years is Dustin Turner still in prison?This is his story as told by him from prison. EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The law says that if you play a role in a crime, you can be treated as a principal, even if you never carried out the violence yourself. That’s what happened to Pamela Shrader, a woman struggling with addiction whose words led to a man’s death.But was it an independent act by the killer, Noe Pena, or a crime she must share full responsibility for? While the trigger man took a plea deal and will soon be eligible for parole, Pam faces the very real probability of spending the rest of her life behind bars.Is that justice? As always, it’s your chance to step into the jury box, hear the case, and make up your own mind.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

The law says that if you play a role in a crime, you can be treated as a principal, even if you never carried out the violence yourself. That’s what happened to Pamela Shrader, a woman struggling with addiction whose words led to a man’s death.But was it an independent act by the killer, Noe Pena, or a crime she must share full responsibility for? While the trigger man took a plea deal and will soon be eligible for parole, Pam faces the very real probability of spending the rest of her life behind bars.Is that justice? As always, it’s your chance to step into the jury box, hear the case, and make up your own mind.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In this episode of One Minute Remaining, I sit down with defence attorney Michael Leonard—known to OMR listeners as “the voice of reason.” Together, we break down the case of Charles McCrory, convicted on the basis of contested bite mark evidence. Michael gives his expert take on the original trial, the evidence presented, and the long and complex appeals process that has followed. This in-depth conversation looks at what went wrong, the challenges of overturning a conviction, and what McCrory’s story reveals about the U.S. justice system.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today I sit down with Chris Fabricant, Director of Strategic Litigation at the Innocence Project and author of Junk Science and the American Criminal Justice System. From his early days as a New York public defender to leading the fight against flawed forensic techniques, Fabricant shares his personal journey and the urgent mission behind his work.Together, they dive deep into the controversial world of junk science, with a sharp focus on bite mark analysis, a discredited practice that has contributed to multiple wrongful convictions. Fabricant explains how faulty forensic methods continue to corrupt the justice system, and why science must be held to higher standards in courtrooms across America.As Chris unpacks the troubling history and lasting consequences of forensic pseudoscience, this conversation is a must-listen to help understand how 'Science' isn't always as solid a foundation for truth as one might think. EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In 1985, Charles McCrory found his wife, Julie Bonds, brutally murdered in their Andalusia, Alabama, home. Just two small marks on her arm—misrepresented in court as a definitive “bite mark”—became the sole forensic evidence used to convict him for her murder.A forensic odontologist, famed for testifying at Ted Bundy’s trial, claimed the impressions matched McCrory’s like a fingerprint. Yet decades later, that same expert fully recanted the testimony, acknowledging the scientific consensus now recognises bite mark evidence as unreliable “junk science”.With no blood, no DNA, and hair in the victim’s hand that didn’t match McCrory’s, his conviction rested entirely on this flawed forensic interpretation. Over 40 years later, even as two independent forensic dentists testified that the so called bite mark was never human, Alabama courts repeatedly denied him a new trial, judging that his lengthy imprisonment still stood, and that procedural hurdles outweighed modern scienceIn July 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to review his case. Justice Sotomayor warned that wrongful convictions like his, based on “faulty science,” are startlingly common and urged state and federal lawmakers to enact stronger safeguards to prevent miscarriages of justice.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In 1985, Charles McCrory found his wife, Julie Bonds, brutally murdered in their Andalusia, Alabama, home. Just two small marks on her arm—misrepresented in court as a definitive “bite mark”—became the sole forensic evidence used to convict him for her murder.A forensic odontologist, famed for testifying at Ted Bundy’s trial, claimed the impressions matched McCrory’s like a fingerprint. Yet decades later, that same expert fully recanted the testimony, acknowledging the scientific consensus now recognises bite mark evidence as unreliable “junk science”.With no blood, no DNA, and hair in the victim’s hand that didn’t match McCrory’s, his conviction rested entirely on this flawed forensic interpretation. Over 40 years later, even as two independent forensic dentists testified that the so called bite mark was never human, Alabama courts repeatedly denied him a new trial, judging that his lengthy imprisonment still stood, and that procedural hurdles outweighed modern scienceIn July 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to review his case. Justice Sotomayor warned that wrongful convictions like his, based on “faulty science,” are startlingly common and urged state and federal lawmakers to enact stronger safeguards to prevent miscarriages of justice.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In 1985, Charles McCrory found his wife, Julie Bonds, brutally murdered in their Andalusia, Alabama, home. Just two small marks on her arm—misrepresented in court as a definitive “bite mark”—became the sole forensic evidence used to convict him for her murder.A forensic odontologist, famed for testifying at Ted Bundy’s trial, claimed the impressions matched McCrory’s like a fingerprint. Yet decades later, that same expert fully recanted the testimony, acknowledging the scientific consensus now recognises bite mark evidence as unreliable “junk science”.With no blood, no DNA, and hair in the victim’s hand that didn’t match McCrory’s, his conviction rested entirely on this flawed forensic interpretation. Over 40 years later, even as two independent forensic dentists testified that the so called bite mark was never human, Alabama courts repeatedly denied him a new trial, judging that his lengthy imprisonment still stood, and that procedural hurdles outweighed modern scienceIn July 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to review his case. Justice Sotomayor warned that wrongful convictions like his, based on “faulty science,” are startlingly common and urged state and federal lawmakers to enact stronger safeguards to prevent miscarriages of justice.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In 1985, Charles McCrory found his wife, Julie Bonds, brutally murdered in their Andalusia, Alabama, home. Just two small marks on her arm—misrepresented in court as a definitive “bite mark”—became the sole forensic evidence used to convict him for her murder.A forensic odontologist, famed for testifying at Ted Bundy’s trial, claimed the impressions matched McCrory’s like a fingerprint. Yet decades later, that same expert fully recanted the testimony, acknowledging the scientific consensus now recognises bite mark evidence as unreliable “junk science”.With no blood, no DNA, and hair in the victim’s hand that didn’t match McCrory’s, his conviction rested entirely on this flawed forensic interpretation. Over 40 years later, even as two independent forensic dentists testified that the so called bite mark was never human, Alabama courts repeatedly denied him a new trial, judging that his lengthy imprisonment still stood, and that procedural hurdles outweighed modern scienceIn July 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to review his case. Justice Sotomayor warned that wrongful convictions like his, based on “faulty science,” are startlingly common and urged state and federal lawmakers to enact stronger safeguards to prevent miscarriages of justice.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In 1985, Charles McCrory found his wife, Julie Bonds, brutally murdered in their Andalusia, Alabama, home. Just two small marks on her arm—misrepresented in court as a definitive “bite mark”—became the sole forensic evidence used to convict him for her murder.A forensic odontologist, famed for testifying at Ted Bundy’s trial, claimed the impressions matched McCrory’s like a fingerprint. Yet decades later, that same expert fully recanted the testimony, acknowledging the scientific consensus now recognises bite mark evidence as unreliable “junk science”.With no blood, no DNA, and hair in the victim’s hand that didn’t match McCrory’s, his conviction rested entirely on this flawed forensic interpretation. Over 40 years later, even as two independent forensic dentists testified that the so called bite mark was never human, Alabama courts repeatedly denied him a new trial, judging that his lengthy imprisonment still stood, and that procedural hurdles outweighed modern scienceIn July 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to review his case. Justice Sotomayor warned that wrongful convictions like his, based on “faulty science,” are startlingly common and urged state and federal lawmakers to enact stronger safeguards to prevent miscarriages of justice.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In 1985, Charles McCrory found his wife, Julie Bonds, brutally murdered in their Andalusia, Alabama, home. Just two small marks on her arm—misrepresented in court as a definitive “bite mark”—became the sole forensic evidence used to convict him for her murder.A forensic odontologist, famed for testifying at Ted Bundy’s trial, claimed the impressions matched McCrory’s like a fingerprint. Yet decades later, that same expert fully recanted the testimony, acknowledging the scientific consensus now recognises bite mark evidence as unreliable “junk science”.With no blood, no DNA, and hair in the victim’s hand that didn’t match McCrory’s, his conviction rested entirely on this flawed forensic interpretation. Over 40 years later, even as two independent forensic dentists testified that the so called bite mark was never human, Alabama courts repeatedly denied him a new trial, judging that his lengthy imprisonment still stood, and that procedural hurdles outweighed modern scienceIn July 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to review his case. Justice Sotomayor warned that wrongful convictions like his, based on “faulty science,” are startlingly common and urged state and federal lawmakers to enact stronger safeguards to prevent miscarriages of justice.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

In 1985, Charles McCrory found his wife, Julie Bonds, brutally murdered in their Andalusia, Alabama, home. Just two small marks on her arm—misrepresented in court as a definitive “bite mark”—became the sole forensic evidence used to convict him for her murder.A forensic odontologist, famed for testifying at Ted Bundy’s trial, claimed the impressions matched McCrory’s like a fingerprint. Yet decades later, that same expert fully recanted the testimony, acknowledging the scientific consensus now recognises bite mark evidence as unreliable “junk science”.With no blood, no DNA, and hair in the victim’s hand that didn’t match McCrory’s, his conviction rested entirely on this flawed forensic interpretation. Over 40 years later, even as two independent forensic dentists testified that the so called bite mark was never human, Alabama courts repeatedly denied him a new trial, judging that his lengthy imprisonment still stood, and that procedural hurdles outweighed modern scienceIn July 2024, the U.S. Supreme Court refused to review his case. Justice Sotomayor warned that wrongful convictions like his, based on “faulty science,” are startlingly common and urged state and federal lawmakers to enact stronger safeguards to prevent miscarriages of justice.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Todays guest is certainly different and unlike anyone I've spoken with so far, todays guest, although having a long and successful career putting bad people behind bars, one in which we will discuss, would round out his career in the public service protecting the most famous family in the world, The British Royal family.Simon Morgan spent over 6 years as a close protection office charged with ensuring the safety and lives of William and Harry, the late Queen and her husband prince Phillip and of course the then prince of Wales, now, King Charles.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Todays guest is certainly different and unlike anyone I've spoken with so far, todays guest, although having a long and successful career putting bad people behind bars, one in which we will discuss, would round out his career in the public service protecting the most famous family in the world, The British Royal family.Simon Morgan spent over 6 years as a close protection office charged with ensuring the safety and lives of William and Harry, the late Queen and her husband prince Phillip and of course the then prince of Wales, now, King Charles.EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

John Crawley was born in New York to Irish immigrant parents, and moved to Ireland as a young teenager to attend school. Inspired there by the struggle for Irish freedom against British rule in the North of Ireland, he returned to America to receive military training in an elite, special forces “Recon” unit of the US Marine Corps. Afterward, he returned to Ireland to volunteer for the IRA and conducted many missions, including gun-running from the US, working with Boston criminal head Whitey Bulger. Crawley would be captured and imprisoned twice, both in Ireland and in England, while on major missions, done in both times by informers. He is now retired and married with a family, and lives in County Monaghan, Ireland. He remains as committed as ever to the ending of British rule in Ireland and the establishment of a united Irish Republic.find his book here EARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So One Minute Remaining is on a short break at the moment while I work on a new project that I'm excited about telling you about very soon. However in the mean time I thought I would take this oppotunity to introduce you to some of my other shows that you may pr may not have heard of or in fact had a listen to yet!Today I want to introduce you to WANTED. Check it out HEREEARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So One Minute Remaining is on a short break at the moment while I work on a new project that I'm excited about telling you about very soon. However in the mean time I thought I would take this oppotunity to introduce you to some of my other shows that you may pr may not have heard of or in fact had a listen to yet!Today I want to introduce you to Mysteries at Bedtime . Check it out HEREEARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

So One Minute Remaining is on a short break at the moment while I work on a new project that I'm excited about telling you about very soon. However in the mean time I thought I would take this oppotunity to introduce you to some of my other shows that you may pr may not have heard of or in fact had a listen to yet!Today I want to introduce you to Crime at Bedtime. Check it out HEREEARLY AND AD FREE ACCESS: for as little as $1.69 a week!Apple + HEREPatreon and find us on Facebook here. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.