The Sun Does Shine

by Anthony Ray Hinton

  I’m sorry not to have been able to visit you today. Please know that it’s only because I want to do the best job I can on writing your petition.

  Stay strong & stay in touch! I’ll be sending you a copy of the petition next week.

  Best Wishes,

  Santha

  I read the letter over and over again. She had written her home number in the bottom-right corner of the letter in red ink. I appreciated that, and I looked forward to getting the petition, not only so I knew my appeal was moving forward but also so I could have something else to read. Anything to occupy my mind.

  I couldn’t understand why we weren’t allowed to have books. I thought about Wallace and his group. What if I started a group? What could my group be about? What would help the guys not feel so alone? What could help us all escape this place for a bit?

  I thought back to being in the coal mines. I would give anything to be working in that coal mine again. I had hated it at the time, but I thought about how I had escaped the misery of it. I had traveled in my mind.

  I closed my eyes and thought about where I would go if I were off death row.

  I imagined myself walking out the front door of the prison. There was a plane waiting for me; it was parked right in the parking lot between the two fences. A private jet. It was white, and inside, it had soft leather seats the color of butter. I sat down, and immediately, a beautiful flight attendant appeared. She had dark skin and red lips and a smile so big I thought I would die right then and there.

  “Mr. Hinton, can I get you something to drink? Champagne, perhaps?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  The pilot’s voice came over the loudspeaker. “Please fasten your seat belts. We’ll be taking off shortly. Flying time is approximately eight hours. Mr. Hinton, there is a bed in the back of the plane for you to sleep on during the flight.”

  I looked at the flight attendant.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We are flying to London. The Queen of England is waiting to meet you.”

  “Of course. Thank you.” I waited until we were in the air, and then I walked to the back of the plane. There was a beautiful king-size bed with a velvet comforter and the blanket my mom had made me when I was a baby. There were dozens of soft pillows all over the bed, and when I climbed into the sheets, they smelled like freshly mowed lawns and magnolia blossoms.

  The plane landed, and I stepped off to a waiting limousine. Buckingham Palace guards stood beside the car, and one saluted me and held open the door as I climbed in.

  My suit was cream colored, and my tie a deep royal blue. When my car arrived at the palace, a whole regiment of guards—complete with the tall, furry black hats—stood at attention. I was brought through a large hallway, and two servants stood outside a grand ballroom. They bowed to me and opened up the double doors. I walked inside, and there she was. The Queen of England. She was wearing a blue dress that perfectly matched my tie, and a crown made of gold and rubies.

  “Mr. Hinton.” The Queen held out her hand, and I bowed deeply and kissed the back of it.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “Please join me for tea, Mr. Hinton. It is an honor to meet you.”

  “The honor is all mine, and please, call me Ray.”

  The Queen laughed, and more servants came in with tiny sandwiches and cakes and tarts, and they served us tea that smelled like milk and honey and home.

  “What can I do to help you, Mr. Hinton, Ray?” the Queen asked. “You don’t deserve to be on death row. You must let me help you.”

  “Being here with you is help enough,” I answered.

  “Well, you must come see me anytime you can. We must put our heads together and find a way to get you home. Everyone needs to go home.”

  “We’ll find a way,” I said. “I know I will get back home. I know it. I am praying and I am believing, and it has to happen.”

  “Of course you will,” she said. “Now, let me show you the castle, and the gardens, and all the secret rooms we have in the palace.”

  I followed the Queen of England around for hours and hours. We played croquet and had more tea, and she showed me where all the former kings had slept, and we talked about how hard it was to rule a country and how responsible she felt for everyone.

  It felt great to be treated with respect. To be called Mr. Hinton instead of just Hinton.

  “Hinton. Hinton!”

  The voice came out of nowhere, and I could tell it startled the Queen as much as it did me. I tried to ignore it, but it only got louder, and I could see the palace guards rush in and surround the Queen as if she were under attack.

  “I have to go, Your Majesty, but I will come back,” I said.

  “Hinton, look alive! Hinton, look alive!”

  I blinked until my eyes seemed to focus, and then I saw the guard yelling at me. I sat up in my bed.

  “You going to take your visit or what?”

  I was confused. Visiting day wasn’t until Friday, and it was only Wednesday.

  “What are you talking about? Is my lawyer here?”

  “No, you have a regular family visit. You want it or not? You’ve been acting strange for days.”

  “Of course I want it. Give me a minute to get dressed, please.”

  “You got exactly one minute.”

  I pulled out my dress whites. I kept one of my two sets of prison clothes just for visits, and between visits, I kept them folded and under my mattress so the creases in the pant legs would set in real sharp. I felt disoriented. If the guards wanted to give me an extra visit in the week, I wasn’t going to complain.

  I walked onto the visiting yard and smiled when I saw Lester, both of our moms, and Sylvia, Lester’s new wife.

  “How did you get an extra visit?” I asked. I was happy to see them but still confused.

  “What are you going on about?” Lester laughed.

  “This is our regular visit, baby. What’s wrong with you?” My mom looked me up and down and furrowed her brows.

  I sat down and looked at the four of them.

  “What day is it?” I asked.

  “It’s Friday. Are you sick?”

  I looked around. The other inmates were coming out for visits too. It was morning. It was Friday. It had just been Wednesday, and now it was Friday. I had completely skipped over Thursday.

  “I’m starving. Did you guys bring in some money for the vending machines?”

  Lester looked at me and then stood up. He started to walk over to the vending machines but stopped a few feet away and turned back toward me. “Where you been, man?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said.

  He shrugged and smiled at me.

  I wasn’t sure exactly what had happened.

  There were only two ways to leave death row.

  But I had just found another way. A third way. I felt better than I had in years. I jumped up to hug my mom, and even though the guards yelled at me to sit down, I held on to her. And then I started to laugh.

  Time was a funny and strange and fluid thing, and I was going to bend it and shape it so that it wasn’t my enemy. Someday I was going to walk out of here, but until then, I was going to use my mind to travel the world. I had so many places to go, and people to see, and things to learn.

  “You sure you’re okay?” My mom still looked worried.

  “I’m sure,” I said.

  “Well, when are you coming home, baby? When are they going to let you out of here?” She always asked this question, and usually, it made me sad, but not today.

  “Soon, Mama,” I said. “I’m going to be coming home real soon.”

  After my visit, the guard walked me back to my cell. I changed back into my regular whites and carefully folded my dress whites and put them under the mattress.

  And then I sat on the edge of my bed and closed my eyes.

  My mom had planted some new flowers in front of her house. They were purple and white and pink, and I ran my fingers a
cross them gently. I walked around the side of the house. The lawn needed cutting. I opened the door of the shed and pulled the mower out. I would take care of this for her and then go inside and have some tea and let her gossip about all the goings-on at church and around town.

  “Is that you, baby?” She poked her head out the screen door.

  “It’s me, Mama. It’s me.” She smiled and clapped her hands together. “I told you I would be home soon. I told you.”

  13

  NO MONSTERS

  Mr. Hinton was denied effective assistance of counsel at the guilt/innocence penalty and appellate phases of his case in violation of his rights under the laws and Constitution of Alabama and the Sixth, Eighth, and Fourteenth Amendments of the United States Constitution.

  —SANTHA SONENBERG, 1990 PETITION FOR RELIEF

  Santha filed my petition the day before the deadline. In it, she listed thirty-one reasons why I should be granted a new trial—prosecutor misconduct and racial discrimination, ineffective assistance of counsel, and not being allowed to hire a real expert, to name just a few. I read the list over and over again, and I felt hope. I let some of the other guys read it. They passed it from cell to cell.

    1.  Newly discovered evidence.

    2.  Denied effective assistance of counsel at the guilt/innocence penalty and appellate phases of his case in violation of his rights under the laws and Constitution of Alabama and the Sixth, Eighth, and Fourteenth Amendments of the United States Constitution.

    3.  The trial court erroneously consolidated two separate capital indictments.

    4.  The trial court erroneously precluded Mr. Hinton from presenting evidence, at both the guilt/innocence and penalty phases of his trial, that he successfully passed a polygraph examination in which he denied involvement in the charged capital offenses.

    5.  Confiscation of records that supported Mr. Hinton’s alibi defense to the uncharged offense which was the State’s critical link between Mr. Hinton and the two charged capital offenses violated his rights and rendered the verdicts and sentences in these cases unconstitutional.

    6.  The trial court erroneously permitted introduction of Mr. Hinton’s oral statements to the police.

    7.  The publicity surrounding the charged and uncharged offenses made it impossible for Mr. Hinton to receive a fair trial in Jefferson County and thus his rights to a fair trial by an impartial jury under the Fifth, Sixth, Eighth, and Fourteenth Amendments to the United States Constitution were violated.

    8.  The prosecutor’s misconduct and arguments at the guilt/innocence phase were improper and violated Mr. Hinton’s rights.

    9.  The failure to fully transcribe trial court proceedings deprived Mr. Hinton of full appeal and statutorily mandated review of his capital sentence and conviction.

  10.  Mr. Hinton was deprived of a fair trial and a fair sentencing by the prosecutor’s use of peremptory challenges in a racially discriminatory manner.

  11.  Mr. Hinton was deprived of an impartial jury through improper juror exclusion in violation of the Sixth, Eighth, and Fourteenth Amendments to the United States Constitution.

  12.  Mr. Hinton was deprived of an impartial jury through improper juror inclusion in violation of the Fifth, Sixth, and Fourteenth Amendments to the United States Constitution.

  13.  Mr. Hinton’s rights to a fair trial by an impartial jury were violated by the trial court’s restrictions on the voir dire examination of the prospective jurors and the trial court’s interference in the jury selection process.

  14.  Mr. Hinton’s rights to a fair trial and a fair sentencing were abrogated by his convictions and death sentences being based upon insufficient and unreliable evidence of his guilt in the charged offenses.

  15.  Mr. Hinton’s right to present a defense was abrogated by the court’s failure to grant trial counsel’s request for extraordinary expenses to hire a ballistics expert to counter the two ballistics experts who testified for the State.

  16.  The seizure of the gun from Mr. Hinton’s mother’s home was invalid and thus its introduction into evidence, and any testimony based upon its seizure or regarding the gun was improper.

  17.  The trial court’s failure to instruct the jury on lesser included offenses violated Mr. Hinton’s rights and deprived him of a fair trial and rendered his convictions and sentences of death invalid.

  18.  Mr. Hinton’s right to a fair trial was abrogated by admission of evidence regarding the Smotherman incident without which there was no evidence to support Mr. Hinton’s convictions for capital murder.

  19.  Mr. Hinton’s rights to a fair trial and a fair sentencing were violated by the admission of Reginald Payne White’s testimony.

  20.  The State’s introduction of prejudicial and highly inflammatory photographs and other documentary evidence at Mr. Hinton’s trial violated his rights.

  21.  The prosecutor’s misconduct and arguments at Mr. Hinton’s sentencing hearing were improper and deprived him of a fundamentally fair hearing and due process.

  22.  The participation of the decedents’ family members in Mr. Hinton’s prosecution was highly improper and denied Mr. Hinton a fair trial, a fair sentencing, and due process.

  23.  The statutory presumption that any aggravating circumstance proven during the guilt/innocence phase is considered proven beyond a reasonable doubt for purposes of the penalty phase is unconstitutional and thus Mr. Hinton’s death sentence has violated due process under the prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment.

  24.  Mr. Hinton’s right to a public trial was denied when his mother and sister were asked to leave the courtroom.

  25.  Evidence of simulated trips between Ensley, where Mr. Hinton was working, and the location of the Smotherman incident was improperly admitted at his trial.

  26.  Evidence rebutting Mr. Hinton’s alibi defense was improperly admitted before any evidence supporting his defense had been introduced.

  27.  Evidence of out-of-court identifications was improperly admitted at Mr. Hinton’s trial.

  28.  Mr. Hinton’s rights to a fair trial and a fair sentencing were abrogated by the way in which his trial and sentencing were conducted.

  29.  Expert witnesses were improperly permitted to testify based upon evidence that was not admitted at the trial.

  30.  The trial court improperly heard testimony from its own bailiffs at Mr. Hinton’s sentencing proceeding in violation of his rights to a fair sentencing.

  31.  Alabama’s death penalty is arbitrarily and discriminatorily applied in violation of Eighth and Fourteenth Amendments.

  Soon everyone was talking about my case. I didn’t know what some of the things on the list meant, but I used my time in the law library to research. I had studied the amendments to the Constitution in high school but definitely needed a refresher course. It was great just to have something new to read, something new to talk about. Henry seemed particularly interested in my case.

  “It sounds good, Ray,” Henry said, “like you should be let go. You have a solid case. You really are innocent.”

  I laughed. “I know everyone says it, but I really am innocent. And I’m really going to walk out of here someday. You just wait.”

  I didn’t tell Henry that I left the row every day. I didn’t tell anyone. I could be there for meals and when the guards needed me to do something, but the minute my mind wasn’t occupied by the routine of the row, I left. My jet plane was always waiting, and it got easier and easier for me to travel in my mind. Sometimes Henry would ask me what I had been doing when he was calling out to me, and I would say, “I was in Spain, Henry, but I’m back now. What do you need?” I think people thought I was losing it a bit, but escaping in my mind gave me a sort of giddy sense of freedom. I could tune out the moaning and the roaches and the smell of death and the food that had no taste and the endless worry about
who would be next to burn up in that chair. Every time an hour could pass without me being aware of every slow second of that hour was a gift. Every day was like the one before it and the one after it. And there were so many days when nothing at all happened. Nothing. Just silence or moaning or guys yelling nothing at each other. We each did our time in our own way. One guy would just draw spirals on a piece of paper—all day, every day. Spirals within spirals within spirals so that you never saw where anything ended and anything began. That’s how it was. Some guys just spent the time between meals trying not to go crazy—they would hum, or rock themselves, or moan in a way that almost sounded like chanting. Humans were not meant to be locked in a cage, and a man couldn’t survive in a box. It was cruel. A lot of guys had mental illness or were born slow; others would rip off your face with their bare hands if they were given the chance. We weren’t a collection of innocent victims. Many of the guys I laughed with had raped women and murdered children and sliced innocent people up for the fun of it or because they were high on drugs or desperate for money and never thought beyond the next moment. The outside world called them monsters. They called all of us monsters. But I didn’t know any monsters on the row. I knew guys named Larry and Henry and Victor and Jesse. I knew Vernon and Willie and Jimmy. Not monsters. Guys with names who didn’t have mothers who loved them or anyone who had ever shown them a kindness that was even close to love. Guys who were born broken or had been broken by life. Guys who had been abused as children and had their minds and their hearts warped by cruelty and violence and isolation long before they ever stood in front of a judge and a jury.

  I was there with these guys part of the time, but the rest of the time, I left them. I left them all. I watched college football games in my mind, and I learned to fly a helicopter. I had a boat and a Cadillac and more women than I knew what to do with. I would eat at the finest restaurants, wear the nicest clothes, and visit the most beautiful and wondrous places in the world. Traveling in my mind was like reading a good book and being transported to a completely different world, and a part of me felt a little guilty that I could escape this way when so many guys were suffering.