Northwestern University School of Law's Center on Wrongful Convictions Fights the Uphill Battle—and Sometimes Wins

Unlike some innocence projects, Northwestern's center does not require DNA evidence in order to take a case. The center gets 2,000 letters a year requesting aid, says Warden. "We are very selective" in choosing which cases to take, says Warden.

The center handles 25 cases at any one time, taking on about five new cases per year. Cases can last a very long time; the center is still handling some cases it had started seven years ago.


Despite its limited staff and volunteer roster, and the sheer number of requests that come in, this law school clinic has already made a statewide impact in its field.

On January 11, 2003, Illinois Governor George Ryan commuted the sentences of every person on that state's death row, 157 in all, citing concerns over the application and fairness of the death penalty in Illinois. In his speech, he praised the work of Northwestern Law's Center on Wrongful Convictions, then headed up by Professor Larry Marshall.

In that speech, the governor said: "It is fitting that we are gathered here today at Northwestern University with the students, teachers, lawyers, and investigators who first shed light on the sorrowful condition of Illinois' death penalty system."

Student involvement is highly praised at the center, where students work year-round. This summer, there are six law students and four undergraduates at the center, says Warden. Law students do not have to be attending Northwestern Law to work with the center; they simply express their interest and do a telephone interview. Most law students work at the center the summer between their first and second years. Overall, applicants for summer positions at the center "have excellent credentials," says Warden.

Once with the center, "our students have a tremendous role in all our cases," says Warden. Each of the four staff attorneys has a work-study student from Northwestern Law, as well as research assistants, and straight-on volunteers from a variety of law schools, says Jane Raley, the center's Senior Staff Attorney and Assistant Clinical Professor at Northwestern Law. "These students are exceptional," says Raley.

Law students research laws, prepare memos, write briefs, visit clients in prison, and assist in investigations. They even help to decide which cases the center will take, says Raley. Law students sift through letters from potential clients, research issues that come up in them, and make recommendations on which cases to take. "It is a big responsibility," says Raley.

A few years ago, one student working at the center found a letter from a woman who had been convicted of murder in the death of her three-and-a-half-year-old daughter. The woman had been sleeping as her boyfriend strangled the girl; the woman was also convicted of first-degree murder, with the reasoning, Raley says, that "she should have known that her boyfriend was dangerous."

The law student who found the letter said that it was a case of negligence, not murder, and "she was right on," says Raley. The center took the case. The woman's appeals had expired, but the group petitioned the Illinois Supreme Court, which said they could file a late petition for leave to appeal. On appeal, the conviction was reversed. Two years after she sent the letter, the woman was released from prison. "That was a law student who found that letter," says Raley, noting students' valuable work.

Last summer, Warden planned to have students work on a database on wrongful convictions, but the plan changed at the last moment when the center took on the capital case of a man in Indiana.

That case, involving a man named Darnell Williams, was atypical for the center, says Warden. While the center's staff usually focuses its efforts on reversing wrongful convictions (often on the bases of new scientific methods, such as DNA testing, or innovative methods of detecting arson), the Williams case was more a "miscarriage of justice," says Warden.

Williams and another man were both convicted and sentenced to death for killing the other man's foster parents. The codefendant then had his sentence changed to life imprisonment after an IQ test showed he was below the legal threshold for execution. Williams's death sentence stood, even though, says Warden, there was evidence that Williams was less culpable than his codefendant. After intensive work, a petition to the governor of Indiana was successful, and Williams's sentence was commuted to life in prison.

Cases handled by the center's staff and volunteers are highly challenging because once a person is convicted of a crime, "the burden shifts," says Warden. Advocates must show more than just a reasonable doubt to overturn a conviction; they must prove a defendant's innocence or show that the punishment is too harsh, which is "very, very difficult to do," says Warden.

In the Williams case, the effort paid off. "We poured every single ounce we had into it and saved the guy's life," says Warden.