One Minute Remaining - Stories from the inmates

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.

On December 11, 2000, Hani Zebib was fatally shot while working in his Detroit convenience store — a dream he had built after fleeing war-torn Lebanon in search of a better life. Among the young men involved in the robbery that day was Demel Dukes. Though Demel never pulled the trigger, he was sentenced to life without parole under the felony murder rule — a controversial legal doctrine that allows for harsh sentences even when a person didn’t carry out the killing themselves.But what makes this story different isn’t just the law — it’s what happened after.More than two decades later, the family of Hani Zebib have done something remarkable: they’ve forgiven Demel. In fact, they now advocate for his release.In this powerful new series, Jack Laurence explores the layers of Demel’s life — from growing up surrounded by love but drawn into the streets, to the heartbreaking events that led to that fatal day.It’s a story about loss, the justice system, and perhaps most importantly, the transformative power of forgiveness.If you've ever questioned whether true redemption is possible, this is the story you need to hear.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.

On December 11, 2000, Hani Zebib was fatally shot while working in his Detroit convenience store — a dream he had built after fleeing war-torn Lebanon in search of a better life. Among the young men involved in the robbery that day was Demel Dukes. Though Demel never pulled the trigger, he was sentenced to life without parole under the felony murder rule — a controversial legal doctrine that allows for harsh sentences even when a person didn’t carry out the killing themselves.But what makes this story different isn’t just the law — it’s what happened after.More than two decades later, the family of Hani Zebib have done something remarkable: they’ve forgiven Demel. In fact, they now advocate for his release.In this powerful new series, Jack Laurence explores the layers of Demel’s life — from growing up surrounded by love but drawn into the streets, to the heartbreaking events that led to that fatal day. It’s a story about loss, the justice system, and perhaps most importantly, the transformative power of forgiveness.If you've ever questioned whether true redemption is possible, this is the story you need to hear.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 Susan Brown. We recently heard Susan’s story—a woman serving life without parole for the murder of her former husband, a man she says attacked her. In what she describes as an act of self-defence, she stabbed him, inflicting injuries that would later prove fatal.Since airing her episode, I’ve received a flood of messages, and there’s been plenty of discussion in the Facebook group about Susan’s case. Many listeners have connected with her—drawn to her perspective, resilience, and honesty about her situation. Susan has been remarkably open, not only about the events that led to her incarceration, but also about daily life inside the Michigan Department of Corrections.So I arranged another conversation with her to explore just that—what life is really like for a woman in prison. As fate would have it, when she called, her facility was making national headlines across the U.S.—for all the wrong reasons.In this episode, Susan and I discuss, as openly as we can with our conversation being monitored, the current lawsuit involving her facility, and what her day-to-day reality looks like behind prison walls.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, I’m joined once again by Michael Leonard of Leonard Trial Lawyers in Chicago — known to many of you as The Voice of Reason. Together, we unpack the troubling case of Joshua Sedgmen, a young man wrongfully convicted of armed robbery despite a complete lack of evidence tying him to the crime. Michael shares his expert legal opinion on the failings of the prosecution, the misuse and mishandling of DNA evidence, and the disturbing reality that it can cost someone thousands just to prove their own innocence. We also dive into the glaring issue of prosecutorial accountability — or the lack thereof — and ask why no one is held responsible when lives are shattered by misconduct and negligence.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.

Former Lieutenant John Kennedy was a decorated officer with the Detroit Police Department—a man driven by a deep desire to help others, protect the innocent, and bring criminals to justice. Over the course of his career, he was shot at multiple times, struck by a car, arrested countless suspects, and even served on close protection detail, prepared to take a bullet for someone else.But today, this officer with a spotless record finds himself on the other side of the justice system. Kennedy faced federal charges and ultimately served time in connection with a Detroit towing company corruption scheme—an investigation that saw numerous police officers and city officials charged with bribery.In this episode, I sit down with John, now back home on parole after completing his prison sentence. We talk about his time behind bars, what life is really like for a former law enforcement officer in prison, and whether the experience has changed his perspective on incarceration—and the people who end up there.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.

This week, I sit down with the founder of Firefly Advocates, a grassroots organisation in the United States dedicated to supporting incarcerated individuals and fighting for justice reform. We discuss what inspired the creation of Firefly, the challenges of advocacy work behind prison walls, and the power of human connection in some of the darkest corners of the justice system. From wrongful convictions to life sentences without parole, this conversation shines a light on the overlooked — and the advocates working tirelessly to bring them back into focus.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.

Joshua Sedgmen grew up in a chaotic home environment. He was moved from place to place, in and out of foster care and juvenile facilities. Stability was certainly not a word that featured in his early life.At just 15, he set off into the world on his own. He wasn’t involved in gangs or drugs, but he admits he committed crimes to survive—stealing, he says, to buy food, clothing, and to keep the heating on in properties he squatted in.In 2012, Joshua was arrested alongside his brother and charged with receiving stolen goods—specifically, jewellery estimated to be worth one million dollars. His brother had stolen it during a home burglary. Josh didn’t fight the conviction. He admits he was guilty and says he’s never fought any of his arrests—he saw it as part of his life. He got caught, and he took his punishment.After serving his sentence, he returned home determined to turn his life around. But just weeks later, he was arrested again—this time for an armed robbery. A crime, he insists, he had nothing to do with.According to Joshua, the real culprits were his brother and two other individuals—people who were arrested just hours after the crime took place, with the stolen goods and two masks used in the robbery in their possession. Masks that, he believes, could prove his innocence—if they’re tested for DNA.The problem? That testing costs thousands of dollars.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.

Joshua Sedgmen grew up in a chaotic home environment. He was moved from place to place, in and out of foster care and juvenile facilities. Stability was certainly not a word that featured in his early life.At just 15, he set off into the world on his own. He wasn’t involved in gangs or drugs, but he admits he committed crimes to survive—stealing, he says, to buy food, clothing, and to keep the heating on in properties he squatted in.In 2012, Joshua was arrested alongside his brother and charged with receiving stolen goods—specifically, jewellery estimated to be worth one million dollars. His brother had stolen it during a home burglary. Josh didn’t fight the conviction. He admits he was guilty and says he’s never fought any of his arrests—he saw it as part of his life. He got caught, and he took his punishment.After serving his sentence, he returned home determined to turn his life around. But just weeks later, he was arrested again—this time for an armed robbery. A crime, he insists, he had nothing to do with.According to Joshua, the real culprits were his brother and two other individuals—people who were arrested just hours after the crime took place, with the stolen goods and two masks used in the robbery in their possession. Masks that, he believes, could prove his innocence—if they’re tested for DNA.The problem? That testing costs thousands of dollars.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.

Joshua Sedgmen grew up in a chaotic home environment. He was moved from place to place, in and out of foster care and juvenile facilities. Stability was certainly not a word that featured in his early life.At just 15, he set off into the world on his own. He wasn’t involved in gangs or drugs, but he admits he committed crimes to survive—stealing, he says, to buy food, clothing, and to keep the heating on in properties he squatted in.In 2012, Joshua was arrested alongside his brother and charged with receiving stolen goods—specifically, jewellery estimated to be worth one million dollars. His brother had stolen it during a home burglary. Josh didn’t fight the conviction. He admits he was guilty and says he’s never fought any of his arrests—he saw it as part of his life. He got caught, and he took his punishment.After serving his sentence, he returned home determined to turn his life around. But just weeks later, he was arrested again—this time for an armed robbery. A crime, he insists, he had nothing to do with.According to Joshua, the real culprits were his brother and two other individuals—people who were arrested just hours after the crime took place, with the stolen goods and two masks used in the robbery in their possession. Masks that, he believes, could prove his innocence—if they’re tested for DNA.The problem? That testing costs thousands of dollars.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.

Joshua Sedgmen grew up in a chaotic home environment. He was moved from place to place, in and out of foster care and juvenile facilities. Stability was certainly not a word that featured in his early life.At just 15, he set off into the world on his own. He wasn’t involved in gangs or drugs, but he admits he committed crimes to survive—stealing, he says, to buy food, clothing, and to keep the heating on in properties he squatted in.In 2012, Joshua was arrested alongside his brother and charged with receiving stolen goods—specifically, jewellery estimated to be worth one million dollars. His brother had stolen it during a home burglary. Josh didn’t fight the conviction. He admits he was guilty and says he’s never fought any of his arrests—he saw it as part of his life. He got caught, and he took his punishment.After serving his sentence, he returned home determined to turn his life around. But just weeks later, he was arrested again—this time for an armed robbery. A crime, he insists, he had nothing to do with.According to Joshua, the real culprits were his brother and two other individuals—people who were arrested just hours after the crime took place, with the stolen goods and two masks used in the robbery in their possession. Masks that, he believes, could prove his innocence—if they’re tested for DNA.The problem? That testing costs thousands of dollars.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.

It’s fair to say that while Dorice was the first story I ever told, it was my very first conversation with Kimberly Boone that truly changed the course of my working life.I first spoke with Kim almost three years ago. At the time, she was working as a law clerk inside prison, helping Dorice with her case and fighting to get her back into court. That was Kim’s job — to assist the women around her, helping them fight their own legal battles and, hopefully, find a path home.But what about her own situation?For all the skill she had in helping others, Kim seemed unable to do anything about her own case. And it was heartbreaking.It’s now been nearly three years since Kim and I last spoke on the phone, and in that time, a lot has happened — from personal loss and multiple moves to her own serious health battle.Recently, Kim reached out and said she felt ready to come back on the show and share what’s been happening in her life.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.

Recently, I caught up with Temujin Kensu, a man who has been incarcerated since 1986 for a crime he couldn't possibly have committed. Temujin has endured a great deal over his nearly 40 years behind bars, and as he gets older, his health issues have become a daily struggle. This struggle has recently been made even harder by the MDOC confiscating items he relies on to manage his medical needs.In this conversation, Temujin talks us through why he believes this has happened, and the serious ramifications—including the possibility that he may be moved to a maximum-security prison.But it’s not all bad news. Recently, the Michigan Supreme Court ruled that mandatory life without parole sentences for individuals aged between 19 and 20 are unconstitutional. This landmark decision could open a path toward Temujin’s eventual release.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.

You may know him from TikTok, YouTube, or Instagram—clips from his courtroom have gone viral across the globe. Judge David Fleischer has become something of an internet sensation, not for theatrics or harsh sentences, but for his calm, compassionate, and fair approach to justice.In this special episode of One Minute Remaining, I sit down with Judge Fleischer to discuss what it's really like behind the bench, how judges across America are often painted with a broad and unfair brush, and why the worst misconduct cases often become the only ones we hear about. With millions of views online, Judge Fleischer’s style has captured the attention of a new generation, showing that empathy and accountability can exist side by side in the courtroom.We explore the role of a judge in the justice system, the responsibility of wielding such power, and how public trust is built—and broken. This is a rare and refreshing insight into the judiciary, from a man who's bringing transparency, reason, and humanity back into the courtroom.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 Susan Brown and since then I have had a number of people ask me the same question, what happened to Susan's baby? Well recently Susan and I caught up to talk about her baby, who is now a young man as well as the oddities of daily life for those incarcerated. "The story of how I got here is deeply painful. Years ago I was married to a man who was mercilessly verbally and mentally abusive to me and my children. I wanted to press through the anguish to keep our family together, but then his behavior escalated. I had no choice but to leave to protect our child.A year later, I had moved on and was 30 weeks pregnant with another man's child. My estranged husband was enraged and, in a volatile verbal exchange, stabbed me in my stomach. He then raped me. I fought back to defend myself. In a blur, I ended up in the hospital, with my child devastatingly born prematurely. I then learned that, while it was never my intention, my ex-husband died."These are the words of Susan Brown a lady serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole for what she says was self defense.This is her story, as told by here from prison in Michigan.If you or someone you know needs help in relation to domestic violence or abuse please follow the links below.https://www.domesticshelters.org/https://strongwomentalking.org.au/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 story of Tariq Maqbool is one that had not been told in over 20 years. A man who was found guilty of a brutal double homicide in 2002—of Joong Ahn, 45, and his nephew, Mun Ahn, 28—on the night of November 1. On April 27, 2005, he was found guilty and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.During his time of incarceration, he decided to keep to himself and would not allow anyone to tell his story or take advantage of his situation for the sake of 'entertainment.' That’s why, when I reached out to him, I was honoured that he agreed to allow me the opportunity to help tell his story.Since then, many people have started taking notice of his story and taking an interest in the case. A couple of months ago, I received an email from a professor at a university who told me that some of her students would be looking at his case this semester, working out if there was a way in which they might be able to help him.A couple of weeks ago those students stood in front of a panel of experts in the fight for clemency to give their oral arguments for Tariqs 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.

The story of Tariq Maqbool is one that had not been told in over 20 years. A man who was found guilty of a brutal double homicide in 2002—of Joong Ahn, 45, and his nephew, Mun Ahn, 28—on the night of November 1. On April 27, 2005, he was found guilty and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole.During his time of incarceration, he decided to keep to himself and would not allow anyone to tell his story or take advantage of his situation for the sake of 'entertainment.' That’s why, when I reached out to him, I was honoured that he agreed to allow me the opportunity to help tell his story.Since then, many people have started taking notice of his story and taking an interest in the case. A couple of months ago, I received an email from a professor at a university who told me that some of her students would be looking at his case this semester, working out if there was a way in which they might be able to help him.A couple of weeks ago those students stood in front of a panel of experts in the fight for clemency to give their oral arguments for Tariqs 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.