“Just Mercy” and me; a brush with a sad portion of History
Before you ask, no; I am not one to seek notoriety by inserting myself into various events. I’m not one to crave the spotlight. Though I must confess, there are some bits and pieces of my 58 years that make me feel a bit like a slightly higher IQ version of Forrest Gump. (For the benefit of the younger readers that don’t get the analogy, I encourage you to watch the movie. It will be a few bucks well spent on an Amazon rental.)
November 1, 1986 is not a date that really stands out to most people; not even to me on a conscious daily basis. Watching “Just Mercy” certainly brought that date to the foreground of my mind, evoking several shocking memories and “what ifs” in my mind.
From late winter of 1986 through the latter part of the summer, I dated a young lady from the town of Excel, AL. From where I lived in the small town of McCullough, AL it was about a good 30 minute drive. By the time late September rolled around she and I were through. At least I thought we were.
Her mother and stepdad arranged a few meetings between us, hoping things would be rekindled (she had dumped me to return to an ex), and there were some small signs of a possible maybe. I had come to be introduced to her by her stepdad about February of ’86. At the time of the intro, he and I both worked at G.K. Fountain Correctional Center near Atmore, AL. It was supposed to be a minimum/medium security facility, but that designation was at best a farce, and at worst a boldfaced lie. The Alabama DOC gave security classifications to inmates that in no wise fit the crimes they were sentenced for, and usually they were “earned” by nothing more than a few months of infraction-free incarceration.
November in Alabama is more like spring most years; the temps may have plunged into the low 40’s by the time it arrives, but aside from the bare trees it often seems like another month of spring. It was against this backdrop and the arranged “date” that I would find us in Monroeville, Alabama on that day. I had picked my date up at around 7:30 AM, and we had found ourselves some breakfast at a local fast food joint and were just hanging out on the square in Monroeville. We walked around for a bit in the cool crisp air and made small talk, mostly about the Old Monroeville Courthouse that was the setting for Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird.”
Around 9 or so, I just got an uneasy feeling, and I insisted that we leave. Should you find yourself wondering why, suffice to say that no, I didn’t witness any crimes being committed or any such as that; I just had a feeling. We left, and I took her home where we had coffee and such, much to the delight of her folks. I left her place around 11 or so, and headed home for some much needed sleep; I worked night shift at that time and had yet to get any rest from the previous night’s work.
Believe me when I say that the murder of Rhonda Morrison was THE news for quite a while. As best as I can recall, I never would see that girl again, though we did talk about this horrific crime occurring within such a short time after we had left the area.
The full gravity of the situation really didn’t begin to dawn on me until all the uproar over the “60 Minutes” segment, along with the recantation of Ralph Meyers regarding his testimony. I recall the then DA of Baldwin County going on the local news and referring to Myers as, “A liar and a snitch”. I knew Myers, as he was at that time housed at Fountain. He told me to my face about being placed in a room close to Wayne Ritter so he could smell Ritter’s flesh burn during his execution. And yes, Ralph Myers had to be placed in Protective Segregation for a while due to the DA’s description of him.
As the McMillan case wound its way through the process of exoneration, we all kept up to date on the developments at Fountain. When he was finally set free, I would (and still do) find myself wondering what if law enforcement hadn’t zeroed in on a black man, but just anyone who looked out of place? That certainly fits me as a Native American. Yes, there’s plenty of us down that way, but how many on the Monroeville Square on 11/01/86? Had we hung around a little longer, is this something I may have “looked good for”? It really hit home the first time I watched “Just Mercy”, which I am fortunate my wife watched with me. There were many times I had to pause the movie to break down sobbing.
One small point I would like to clarify. In the movie, they touched a few times on the execution of Wayne Ritter, and that his court-appointed attorney made no secret of his pro-death penalty stance. I recall that trial and outcomes very well. Here is what Wayne Ritter said to the Jury at the trial of himself, and his accomplice, John Louis Evans:
“Q. Mr. Ritter, do you want to say anything to these people sitting in the Jury Box as to what you want them to do when they go back there? “A. Well, I think there are two considerations. First, we did kill Mr. Nassar. We knew we might have to kill somebody during any robbery. We had discussed it before. If anybody went for a gun, that’s what was going to happen. We did kill him, so, really, the only thing you can come back with is the death penalty. And the other consideration is, if you give me life, or if I got life imprisonment, I could get out in ten or fifteen years, and when I got out, I know where everybody on the Jury lives, and I wouldn’t appreciate being in prison for ten or fifteen years, so I think I would have to come after you. That’s about it.” (Evans v. State :: 1977 :: Alabama Court of Criminal Appeals Decisions :: Alabama Case Law :: Alabama Law :: US Law :: Justia Accessed 12/01/20)
So, zero sympathy for Wayne Ritter from this former Corrections Officer.
I hope you have found this to be interesting and informative, and I hope to be able to pen many more for your perusal.
