To Be A Free Man in Tarrytown

I live in Tarrytown now, a free man, and my life has taken turns I never would have dreamed possible.

I was wrongfully convicted in 1990 of a murder and rape in Peekskill. DNA taken from semen found in the victim did not match my DNA. However, misconduct from every part of the criminal justice system contributed to my 16 years of life in prison. That misconduct included a coerced, false confession when I was 16, extracted after many days of interrogation overseen by current Peekskill Police Chief Eugene Tumulo and others, as well as the falsification of other evidence.

Most people think that only a guilty person would confess. But I can tell you that scare tactics, threats of violence, food deprivation, being lied to regarding lie detector results and being told that you can go home afterward if you cooperate have produced many false confessions. Of the 209 exonerations based on DNA testing, false confessions led to 25 percent of the original convictions.

"Maybe you are innocent," Judge Nicholas Collabella said just before giving me a 15 year- to life sentence. Former District Attorney Jeanine Pirro successfully opposed all of my appeals and even blocked several attempts to get more DNA testing.

My fortune turned in 2006, when The Innocence Project took my case. With the cooperation of District Attorney Janet DiFiore, further DNA testing proved who was the real perpetrator. On Nov. 2, 2006 all charges were dismissed and I was publicly acknowledged as innocent. I received some apologies but none were from those who were involved in wrongfully convicting me.

My first 14 months of freedom have been much more turbulent than happy. Successes include completing my B.A. requirements from Mercy College, which gave me a scholarship, and taking the LSAT for admission to law school.

I am not angry. Instead I channel my energy into raising awareness about the problem of wrongful convictions, and the danger that the death penalty poses in executing innocent people.

I give presentations about wrongful convictions at colleges, high schools, churches and orga­nizations throughout New York and other states. I publish articles in The Westchester Guardian, and I give television, radio and newspaper interviews. I testify at hearings, and I lobby lawmakers in Albany to enact reforms to protect the innocent and make the system more reliable. As an additional tool for encouraging lawmakers to enact changes, I collect signatures for an online petition on my Web site.

Readjusting to being free, dealing with the effects of my ordeal, learning new technology and experiencing financial pressure have all been hard. I was released with nothing. The litigation I am pursuing will take between two to seven years, with the state trying not to give me anything. I make some money doing lectures but I never know when the next one will be.

I've been unable to break in socially. My actual age is 34 but at heart I am 25 and would like people with whom to socialize and do athletic/energy-based activities. Instead I am by myself most of the time. Few in the right age group have reached out.

I came to live in Tarrytown because of both the past and present. There is a feeling of energy and excitement in this village, and I imagine that it could be quite fun here. As I walk through town, I am keenly aware that my grandmother, who passed away during my incarceration, once walked these streets. She lived on South Washington, where I lived with her briefly. Secretly I wish that I could see the inside of that home again. However, in this age of crime and suspicion, I'm sure that the owners would never allow it.

Could what happen to me happen to you or someone you love? You be the judge: I had never been arrested before, my friends weren't involved in crime, I was not a high school dropout. A wrongful conviction can happen to your son, your daughter, even you. A misidentification, a car resembling one used in a crime, a coerced false confession, junk science, desperate prisoners falsely incriminating others in order to get time off their sentence: it need only take one of these things.

Learn and talk about wrongful convictions. Ask your school, church or organization to invite me to do a presentation. Sign my online petition. Contact your senators, congressmen and assemblymen and tell them to enact reforms. Don't wait until you are personally affected.

And if you see me around town, say "Hi."

[Editor's note: Jeffrey Mark Deskovic, a resident of Tarrytown, New York, is a criminal justice advocate, professional speaker and exoneree who graduated in December, 2007, with a bachelor's degree from Mercy College. Visit his website at http://jeffreydeskovicspeaks.org/. This is his first blog for the NCCJR. This article originally appeared in The Hudson Independent.]