Dan Bross of KUAC recently ran a story about the $35,000 Reward in the Fairbanks Four case. His radio piece included short interviews with the men and some great information. You can and should listen to that HERE.
Mr. Bross was also kind enough to pass along his unedited interviews so that you blog readers can hear more of what the boys had to say.
Here is his full conversation with Kevin Pease:
We have reached a very gratifying moment in this movement. In late November when the first post was written on this blog, the reward for new information in this case sat at $5,500. Through the generosity, work, and effort of the supporters who have been moved by this story to give, and through the ongoing support of Tanana Chiefs Conference, we officially announced today that the reward in this case has reached $35,000.00, which represents a 700% increase. That translates to $250.00 per day since we began. Thank you!! Your love, courage, faith, and determination to see right things in this world WILL free these men someday, and keep an untold many more from seeing the same terrible fate.
They key to exoneration for the Fairbanks Four through a new trial is for more people to come forward with information about the actual murderers. There are a multitude of reasons that informants remain quiet. Some have said they do not want to be snitches, and nearly all have said that they are afraid. It is not a hard position to relate to – anyone would be hesitant to double-cross a group of killers. But we believe that the reward money will do two things to encourage these people to step forward bravely – one, it will potentially provide them the financial means to move up in life, and out of a crowd of people who would view doing the right thing in this case as snitching. Secondly, we hope it shows that a whole lot of people are counting on them, and have their back when they do come forward.
The reward increase was announced today via press release, and featured on Alaska Public Radio. Coverage included an interview with Marvin, Eugene, George, and Kevin. We wish they had been able to use more of the their words, but time constraints kept the clips of them pretty short. We will post that interview as soon as it is available online.
In the meantime, share this reward information whenever and wherever you can! Through your work and through God’s grace it will reach the right person. Who knows? Perhaps your simple decision to bring this case up to a stranger at a bus stop, to tack a flyer to that cork board at work, to tell this story – any of those moments could be the ONE that this case turns on.
Thank you, every single one of you, for reading, speaking, donating, and acting. When life confronts us with an injustice the easiest and most common choice that human beings make is to do nothing. Yet, as we have quoted many times before, all that is required for evil to prevail is for good men to remain silent. Each of you is extraordinary in your choice to speak up, and each of you is having an impact. I want to tell you that this fight is nearly over. I want to tell you that all the days that lie ahead will be easy. I want to tell you that good has already prevailed. I want to name the day that you can gather together and welcome these men home, the day that racism is over, the day that the justice system is fully just. But I cannot, and this fight may last forever, which makes it all the more worth fighting. All that is required for GOOD to prevail in this world is for people like you to find their voice.
ANYONE that has information, big or small, whether you are ready to talk on the record or want to remain anonymous is asked to email Alaska Innocence at info@alaskainnocence.org or call them at (907) 279-0454.
Frank Dayton’s mugging was only one of the similar attacks that occurred the night John Hartman was killed. However, the beating and mugging of Frank Dayton is of incredible importance because of the part it played in the police theory of the murder and the part it played in trials.
In addition to being charged and convicted of the murder of John Hartman, the Fairbanks Four were also convicted of mugging Frank Dayton, primarily off the eyewitness testimony one man provided in exchange for leniency in the serious criminal charges he was facing. It was the only testimony that put the four together that night, or indicated that they were engaged in violent behavior of any kind. That testimony was made by Arlo Olson, and has since been recanted. We hope to post Arlo’s story, and are hoping that he will be able to tell it himself for us and keep with our focus on letting people speak for themselves. Either way, we will discuss Arlo Olsen’s role in this case at length very soon. For now, we will focus on Frank Dayton’s version of events. It is impossible to overstate how important Frank Dayton’s mugging became in the murder trial. In this post we will describe the mugging that Frank Dayton reported to the police and testified to in trial.
Frank was at the the wedding reception at the Eagle’s Hall along with hundreds of other guests. Sometime around 1am, Frank decided to walk a few block over to meet a friend. Much like Hartman, he was walking alone in the cold late night. He was soon assaulted in a disturbingly similar way.
Frank was in the 300 block of 1st Avenue when he heard a car rolling up behind him. He assumed that the car was slowed to a crawl so that it could pull into the parking lot he had just passed. When he turned around he saw the car. He described it as a four door light colored car (white, or a very light tan or gray). The assailants ran up to him and he was immediately tripped and knocked to the ground. His elbow, knees, and face smashed into the cold pavement. He made a movement to stand, but one of the attackers slammed their foot down on his right hand. Another stood over him. They kicked him in the side and back. As he lay with his face pressed into the pavement he saw the show standing on his hand – a white high top.
The attackers assaulted him primarily by kicking him while he was on the ground. They reached into his pocket and took the $20 he had. They then ran to their car and sped off, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.
Frank was not able to describe his attackers, it had all happened fast and in the dark, and he was held face-down to the ground during the beating. He was able to see and remember the car well, which he described as a “good-sized” light four-door sedan. Frank even drew a picture of the car for the police, which is pictured above.
In the police theory, they surmised that the Fairbanks Four – Kevin, Eugene, Marvin, and George – had gone on a violent beating spree that night attacking people at random. Indeed, there is a distressing theme in the violence that occurred that night. Three others reported nearly identical attacks which you can read about HERE. In those attacks the eyewitnesses or victims also described a light four-door sedan as the car, but the others were able to provide a better description of their attackers, and across the board they ALL described four young African American men in that light car, getting victims to the ground, kicking them, and speeding away.
Frank Dayton was wearing a leather jacket than night. One that likely had the palm and fingerprints of his attackers on it – Frank offered it up to be tested, and the investigators declined to take it. There are a lot of opportunities lost in this case – Frank Dayton’s jacket was one of them, but much like Conan’s pager (read about that HERE), yet another opportunity to collect that evidence was passed up. It is a theme in the case that is disturbing to say the least.
After the beating, Frank Dayton returned to the Eagle’s Hall, where his sister in law Susan Paskavan called 911. The call is logged at 1:34am, roughly the same time that the assault on John Hartman ended.
Prosecution and police relied on a theory that the Fairbanks Four beat and mugged Frank Dayton, then drove the several blocks to 9th and Barnette and fatally beat John Hartman in a similar way. There are many holes in that theory, but here are some of the most important ones:
* Frank Dayton’s attackers drove a light full-sized four-door sedan, Marvin drove a bright blue two-door tiny car.
* None of the four were there. Read their timelines for more details (MARVIN, GEORGE, EUGENE, KEVIN).
* Marvin was at the Eagle’s Hall when Frank Dayton returned and 911 was called. Gary Edwin testified that he KNOWS Marvin was there at the time because as Gary was leaning over the injured Frank Dayton, Marvin approached him and said, “What happened?” Gary responded that he didn’t know and was trying to figure it out himself.
* None of the four were wearing or owned white high-tops. The shoes that the police collected from the men were listed as brown boots, black boots, and black Nike Air tennis shoes. NO white high-tops. Remember that George, Kevin, and Eugene were all arrested in the shoes they had worn. Marvin’s house was searched and all of his shoes were taken.
* Frank Dayton was Eugene Vent’s cousin. It seems unlikely that Eugene, a person with no history of violence, would attack anyone, but especially his own family. It also seems unlikely that Frank Dayton would not recognize his young relative. It also seems unlikely that Frank Dayton would not be able to identify the suspects as Native given his level of familiarity with a Koyukon Athabascan accent.
* Frank Dayton himself believes the Fairbanks Four are innocent, and KNOWS that they are not his attackers. He said this on the stand, and has said it for the last 14 years.
Despite all of this, the Four would eventually be tried for the mugging of Frank Dayton and the murder of John Hartman in one trial. Juror’s would later say that Arlo Olson’s testimony, which convinced them that the Fairbanks Four were guilty of mugging Frank Dayton, was one of the biggest factors in them finding the men guilty.
Eugene Vent, a short time before he was wrongfully convicted of murder.
Below is a poem by Eugene Vent. We included a picture of both handwritten pages and typed it for easier reading as well. Imagine the incredible grief and pain that would come from being wrongfully accused and incarcerated. All of the things you cannot do – hug someone, stand out in the snow and see the lights, eat a meal, run into a friend, hold a hand, see you home, your family, stand on the banks of the river. For Eugene that river would be the Koyukon. A few days ago I found myself heartsick for that sight – I haven’t seen it in a few years, and then it dawned on me that Eugene has not seen the places he yearns for in over 14 years. Freedom is everything….freedom is the foundation on which nearly all things in life are built upon. All things except, perhaps, faith. These four young men have seen nothing but injustice, have been the victims of the worst in people. Yet, there they sit, with absolute faith. Faith in destiny, in love, faith in the goodness of people, faith in their friends, family, supporters, faith in prayer, FAITH IN JUSTICE. So much of their strength comes from all of you. We were blessed with two successful fundraisers this week, and are blessed with incredible generosity from so many people. To hear their story would cause anyone to lose faith, but to see the legions of people band together and fight for them restores it. Thank every one of you who reads, donates, hopes, and prays for these men. It keeps their hopes high, their faith strong, and someday soon we hope it WILL bring them home where they belong.
“DIDN’T DO IT”
by Eugene Vent
“Didn’t do it,” that’s what I told the detective, but still he chose to put me through it.
“Didn’t do it,” told my mother and she believed me – continued to have my back like countless others.
“Didn’t do it,” I told my first lawyers. “Take a deal,” they’d plead, instead of fighting like warriors.
“Didn’t do it,” what I told the judge, NOT GUILTY what I pled…..and on that I’ll never budge.
“Didn’t do it,” I told my trial attorney and he told me it could end up being a very long journey.
“Didn’t do it,” I told the D.A., and also the jury…..when found guilty I felt so much fury.
“Didn’t do it,” I told the judge that was going to sentence me…ultimately got 48 years in the penitentiary.
“Didn’t do it,” what I told some antisocial human beings, they didn’t care because they’re heartless machines.
“Didn’t do it,” I told the Parole Board that continued me to 2014; just another chapter in the saga that I know will end in the freeing of the Fairbanks Four!
“Didn’t do it,” what I tell anybody who will listen and do something with it.
“Didn’t do it,” that is our story and we will forever continue sticking to it because the Truth always comes out in the wash.
Thank you so much for reading this, I always loved poetry and being able to create my own style in writing it. Thank you to everyone for cooperating in this battle and never quitting, even in the hardest times.
I believe in the efforts of all of you, I feel extremely confident it will pay off soon and we can finally get what we truly deserve……Freedom.
Baase’
Your Friend,
Eugene Vent
"Didn't Do It" by Eugene Vent, p. 1
Kevin has spent many years in silence. In the early media reports in and in the press coverage throughout the trials Kevin was relentlessly attacked, more so than the others. The police pushed this media agenda, because in their theory they considered him the ringleader. It was amazing in a way to watch it unfold – to watch him remain quiet and outwardly calm while his world crumbled around him. Steady.
After his conviction, many people stood behind his claim of innocence, but none as strongly or courageously as his mom, the late Carol Pease. He is pictured with her here. It is hard to imagine the grief that Kevin has had to live with. He lost his father a short time before being wrongfully accused, and his mother shortly after his wrongful conviction, all as a very young person. Yet, amazingly, through all of this his faith remains strong.
In this post, Kevin tells his own story. Like with the other letters, the truth in his words is palpable. Painfully clear. Facts, documents, transcripts, legal opinions, and the like abound in this case, and they all back up the claim that these men are innocent. Still, nothing makes that statement as poignantly than the truth in their own words. Here they are:
PLEASE, if you or ANYONE you know has information about the case call, write, email or do anything you like, just do the right thing. The best person to bring new information and tips to is Bill Oberly at the Innocence Project in Anchorage – 907-279-0454. His email is info@alaskainnocence.org and tips can be made anonymously.
If you were involved in any way in this case, please consider coming forward today and submitting your OWN story. These pieces build a picture together, and each piece is important. Contact US on the Facebook page.
HATE, indeed, put these men in prison, and LOVE will set them free someday. YOUR LOVE, courage, and support, to be specific. So keep it coming!!! Sign the petition, join us on Facebook, and spread, spread, spread the word. We send these pages back to the boys, so feel free to add a comment for Kevin below.
Who killed John Hartman? We don’t know. And if this case has taught us anything it is that accusations of this seriousness should not be levied lightly. But from the beginning, evidence has pointed firmly away from the Fairbanks Four and toward attackers that have not yet been identified. Over the years at least two serious theories have emerged among readers – this post outlines one.
One of the most stunning elements of the investigation and arrest of the Fairbanks Four for the murder of John Hartman is that there was no shortage of evidence pointing away from them. In fact, on the night of October 10 into the early morning hours of the 11th, there was a litany of violent beatings and robberies. The victims of these attacks described their attackers as four African-American men in a light-colored four door sedan. These crimes were sickeningly similar – multiple assailants violently kicking and robbing victims who were vulnerable and on foot. They shed terrible light on what John’s terrible last moments may have been like.
Robert John was walking down the road late in the night of October 10th when a light-colored car pulled up behind him. When he turned around, three African-American teenagers jumped out of the car and began a sudden unprovoked attack on Robert John. They attempted to knock him down and began kicking him. They were not successful in knocking him down, and he escaped. He walked into Pastime Card Room, badly shaken, and told Rubin Sam the details of the attack.
12:15 am (approximately) While walking out of Spade Room, Raymond Stickman saw a sight that he will never forget. An older Native man was on the ground, clearly just assaulted, with three young African-American men wearing dark-colored clothing surrounding him. The assailants took off running, jumped into a car with a waiting driver, and sped away. The Native man got up and went into an adjacent building – Raymond Stickman followed him in to be sure he was okay, and the man told him that he had been knocked to the ground and kicked by the group. It is unclear whether he was robbed.
1:00 am (approximately) Frank Dayton left the reception at the Eagle’s Hall and walked along the south side of First Avenue. He was violently assaulted and robbed about ten minutes later. According to Frank, he heard a car rolling up behind him at a slow speed and assumed it was pulling into a parking lot. The next thing he heard was the rapid approach of feet. He was knocked down to the ground, and struck his right knee, elbow, and head on the pavement. One of the attackers stepped on Frank’s right hand, and Frank was able to see a white high-top shoe. While he was pinned to the ground they kicked him in the side and back. One of the attackers reached into Frank’s pocket and stole the $20 he was carrying. His attackers rushed back to their car and pealed off. Frank Dayton described the car as a large white or light tan four-door sedan. He did not see his attackers. The only details that he was able to provide were the exact location, the description of the car, and that one assailant was wearing white high-top sneakers.
1:30am Frank Dayton arrives shaken and injured back at the Eagle’s Hall. His sister-in-law calls 911 and the call is logged at 1:34am. Multiple witnesses place Marvin Roberts at the Eagle’s Hall during this 911 call (you can see his timeline HERE).
1:30 am A few blocks away from the site of Frank Dayton’s attack, John Hartman is beaten to death. The wallet he had with him was never recovered, making it seem as if he also was robbed. The attack on Hartman lasted only five minutes (read about the attack HERE and read his timeline HERE).
Don Moses is a non-drinker and his memories of his attack are still clear these many years later. Don was attacked in the early morning hours of October 11th as well. His attackers pulled up in a car, and four men got out and rushed toward him. He said while recounting the incident, “I have never done anything like this in my life before, but I rushed back at them as if I was ready and willing to fight.” His instincts told him that his life was in danger. At the same moment, sirens rang out nearby. The attackers reacted to either Don’s bold posturing, the sirens, or both, and ran back to their car and drove off. Don does not know the exact time of his attack, but the chilling possibility exists that the sirens in the distance were the ones called to an ailing Frank Dayton, while just a few streets over John Hartman lay unconscious.
Ultimately, the night that John Hartman was murdered was a cold and bloody night on the streets of Fairbanks. Hartman will never be able to describe his attack in his own words. But several others were attacked at random that night and were able to relate the experience, and through them a troubling and uninvestigated thread emerges.
These attacks point to another early investigative failure. ALL of the listed attacks were known to investigators and the DA, and more may have occurred and gone unreported. When at least four similar attacks take place in the span of a few hours with three victims living and one fatally wounded, it is incomprehensible that investigators did not pursue the young men or the getaway car described. But, they did not. With an abundance of evidence indicating that they should be looking for four African-American teenagers in a light-colored four-door sedan, they arrested The Fairbanks Four one at a time through happenstance encounters, with no evidentiary indication that any one of the four had committed the crime. They would eventually enter into evidence Marvin’s bright blue two-door car and four pairs of shoes, none of which were white high-tops.
At least one person reading this blog KNOWS who killed John Hartman. Someone went to high school with these teenagers cruising in that light sedan. Someone remembers. Someone suspects. No information is too small. No gut instinct should be ignored. At least one person, and probably many more, can step forward anonymously and write an ending to this story. Change it from a tragedy to a triumph. Please, please, do.
COMPLETELY ANONYMOUS tips can be emailed to info@alaskainnocence.org or called in to the Innocence Project at 907-279-0454
Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men. – Lord Acton
YET
You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty. – Gandhi
More to the point, their actions are not necessarily a reflection on the Fairbanks Police Department today. Is the Fairbanks Police Department perfect? No. Absolutely not. It is made of humans, and humans are not perfect. Is the Fairbanks Police Department adequately aware of and sensitive to the Native community? No. Not yet, but someday, I hope.
Most little boys who grow up to be police officers do not dream of oppression or mistakes, of misuse of powers or errors that devastate. They dream of helping people. Saving people. Taking away bad guys. Bravely entering into dangers most would run from to rescue strangers. Dreams of being the person that holds a hand out to another person at the most difficult moments of their lives. They grow up to be men, ordinary people with lives and families, and some of them hold onto that dream. And what memorable heroics have come from it – think of the many who gave their lives on September 11th. Think of the crimes solved, the people saved, the good. Good happens, too. What an admirable dream.
Like so many dreams in life, of course it is not that simple. Sometimes things go awry. One or two bad cops can make a legion of people who are risking their lives to save others look bad. So please, remember that to support the Fairbanks Four is not to declare war on the police in our town. That things are not perfect but they have improved since the 90’s. Cop-bashing without cause will make us look foolish and lead us into the same mistake that put the Fairbanks Four into prison – to assume something about a person’s character based on preconceived notions instead of facts.
Our responsibility is to educate, to recognize corruption when it happens and expose it, to know our rights, to hold people accountable when they do not act properly, to monitor how power is used, to seek justice, to correct injustice, to work together toward a better future. To take positions of power if we are able, and to encourage others from our community to step into powerful roles. Participate. So many of us were raised to fear the police, while they as young people were trained to see that fear as an indication of criminal behavior. All involved are human. No question, some have more power than others, that power corrupts some who have it, but we can and will change that.
Great harm comes from hate, great change comes from love. So ease up on the hate, spread the love!
We have, over and over, referred to the specific method of interrogation that was used on the Fairbanks Four AND on many alibi witnesses who were questioned. We have heard from these people that their interrogations or interviews were some of the worst experiences of their lives. Some, even a decade and more later, still suffer nightmares about the experience. These people have done a wonderful job describing how this interrogation technique feels. We want to also help you all understand how it works. And the best place to start is the very beginning, so bear with us for what is going to be a long, but very informative post.
From America’s earliest days as a country well into the 1940’s, suspects of crimes were by policy routinely interrogated with a method known as the “third degree.” Some highlights of this technique included violent beatings, holding heads under water, starvation, threatening to kill a suspect and their families, sleep deprivation, electrocution, and a slew of other nasty tactics that make water-boarding sound like a fun jaunt through a sprinkler on a sunny summer day. These tactics were the rule, not the exception, and officers were trained to use torture because it worked.
These methods produced many confessions, and sent many confessed murderers to their prison cells and graves. There is no question that the third degree was an effective way to get confessions. But by the 1930’s, scholars began to notice that many of these confessions were false. The public became increasingly critical as well and people began asking a lot of questions. When hundreds of people were beaten at rallies the press reports were not favorable. NAACP began an anti-lynching movement. A new era was on the horizon and suddenly the general public was not content with the status-quo. A civil rights movement was a-brewin’. This whole third degree thing was, after all, pretty outdated. Decades and decades old. It was time for a change, and it was clear that the third degree had to at least begin to die out with the 30’s. With no alternative available the third degree continued to be the standard through most of the 1930s.
By the 1940, the practice of physical torture in order to elicit confessions was rapidly falling out of favor. Several courts had found it to be unconstitutional, forcing the practice underground. Investigators tried beating people with rubber hoses so that there would be less bruising, but it was clear that a more lasting alternative was needed. Society (including most police officers), thankfully arrived at a point where most people were not too keen on confessions being beaten, starved, dunked, and cut out of suspects. No, it was time for something more civilized.
Enter John Reid – an Irish cop from Chicago with no background in psychology whatsoever. If the American law enforcement had not been so desperate for a less violent but effective form of interrogation, his psychology-based method could well have been laughed off. But sometimes timing is everything. Reid had a gift. He could, without beating someone, persuade them to confess. We will never know if Reid himself had a gift for obtaining true confessions, false confessions, or both, but we do know he got more than 5,000 of them during his career. He shared and taught his technique. Eventually, he published a book on interrogation – it came at the perfect moment in history, and it was rapidly adopted. In lieu of physical torture Reid’s book recommended something equally as effective but much less likely to leave visible marks: psychological torture!
The Reid Technique of Interrogation was simple, easy to learn, and it worked! It produced confessions! As a matter of fact it worked better than old-fashioned torture. So, police officers across the country and world began to use his 9-step process. By the time 1960’s passed the third degree had been all but replaced by the Reid Technique. The process works something like this:
The first order of business is to perform a non-accusatory interview, review the evidence, and be reasonably sure that the suspect is guilty of the crime. The 9 steps are supposed to be used on people who are GUILTY of a crime, so it is important to be reasonably sure that you are dealing with the perpetrator. So, how do investigators know they have the right guy? Basically, one of two ways. In the first scenario, they have mountains of evidence (eye-witnesses, fingerprints, found the guy at the murder scene covered in blood and holding a knife – that kind of thing). In the second scenario the officer determines that the person is guilty using their expertise in psychology. You know, the expertise they got in the book written by a guy with no background in psychology. Sadly, as with many of life’s crappy ideas, the Reid Technique of interrogation often fails before it even begins.
Because the investigator believes they can spot guilt just by looking at or interacting with a suspect (and in fact have been instructed that they can) these investigators rely on this super-power to be sure that they have the right guy. The good news? One person did do a study which concluded that investigators are better than the average joe-shmo at spotting guilt. The bad news? That guy would be John Reid. After he finished pretending to be a psychologist, he moved on to the illustrious position of pretend-scientist. The other bad news? Pretty much every other study done on the topic shows that police officers are no better than spotting a guilty person than the average citizen, and sometimes worse. But the problem is that unlike the average citizen they BELIEVE they have the right guy. And as soon as they are sure they have the guy, Reid interrogation process beings in earnest.
Once the investigator is sure he’s got the right suspect, he starts the nine step process. Here are the nine steps:
To give John Reid and his modern associates some credit, they recognize that this method produces confessions, and that it produces confessions from the innocent and guilty alike. So, they stress that investigators must not start in on a suspect until they are reasonably sure they are guilty. And really, that makes sense. Here is an interrogation method that will nearly always produce a confession, so if used on a guilty person, that is a good thing. But when it is used in the innocent, it is a recipe for disaster.
When this method is exposed and examined it seems – well, barbaric. Out of time. Like some brutal junk-science from the 40’s cooked up by an unqualified nut. And it seems that way because IT IS. The Reid Technique is crap. It is illegal in many places, considered controversial at best and criminal at worst by scholars, and the winds of society are already changing. Someday, probably someday soon, this will go the way of the third degree. The Reid technique will disappear into an embarrassing chapter of our history where it belongs, and we will progress.
In a world where it is very well established that false confessions happen, how can a person tell a false confession from a real confession? Once in possession of a confession, a well-trained investigator will take a look at the statements and make sure that they appear to be accurate. There are some tell-tale signs of a true confession:
1.) Physical Evidence Backs Up the Confession. Did that happen in this case? Read the physical evidence for yourself HERE.
2.) The Suspect Provides Details of the Crime. If you isolated the statements of the Fairbanks Four you would not know who had been assaulted, where they had been assaulted,what day they had been assaulted, why they had been assaulted, who else was there, when it had happened, or ANY other detail of the crime. Read their interrogations: George, Marvin, Eugene, Kevin. For most of George’s confession he thinks that Eugene is the person in ICU. Eugene thought that a fight had taken place in front of Alaska Motor Inn over a dime bag of weed and that he is being questioned about that. Their statements in isolation mean nothing.
3.) The Suspect Does 80% of the Talking. Read any of the interrogations. The investigator does more than 90% of the talking, the suspects less than 10%.
4.) Circumstantial Evidence Lines Up. For example, in most true-confession scenarios, an investigator will find that the accused has no alibi, or was seen acting suspiciously, or seen with their co-conspirators. They do not usually find that the suspects were miles and miles across town, attending a wedding reception, at a party, or spending the post-murder hours dancing away. See timelines for Kevin, Eugene, Marvin, and George to judge the circumstantial evidence for yourself.
5.) The Confession Reveals Motive. No one at any time has ever been able to connect the Fairbanks Four to the victim, to the victim’s whereabouts that night, or establish motive of any kind (beyond that the suspects were wild Natives).
SO……in the case of the Fairbanks Four, the use of the already shady Reid Technique went wrong before step one. Long before the investigators and the Fairbanks Four came into contact, a fundamental problem already existed in that the training the investigators received was flawed, and the the background of the four was poorly matched to the tactic.
But even with the stage set for disaster, if the investigators had adhered to the first step of the technique, things would have likely ended before they began. There was no evidence to indicate that the teenager in custody was tied to the crime in any way, let alone any evidence to make the investigator “reasonably sure” he was guilty. If the Reid technique of interrogation had been applied properly, these suspects would have been dismissed after the non-accusatory interview. Should they have been erroneously interrogated after the interview, their interrogations should have been ceased when investigators realized the boys in custody were underage, intoxicated, or had questionable memory due to intoxication. If that fail-safe failed, the interrogations should have been dismissed when they failed to meet even ONE of the litmus tests of an accurate confession. Yet…..they were not. This case serves as a scathing expose of the weaknesses of the antiquated and ill-founded interrogation method. The Reid Technique is the corrupt foundation on which many injustices are built.
We wish we could say that this interrogation tactic failed with horrific consequences only for the Fairbanks Four. Sadly, it has led to so many wrongful convictions that it would be impossible to enumerate them here. Perhaps one of the best examples is the case of the Norfolk Four which became the subject of a very well done PBS Frontline program called “The Confessions” which you can and should read about HERE.
Want to read more? Check out these articles and references. Criticism and evidence that debunks the validity of the Reid Interrogation Technique is so prolific that this is a miniscule sampling:
Click to access Arguments%20Against%20Use%20of%20the%20%20Reid%20Technique%20CLRv10i2.pdf
http://nymag.com/news/crimelaw/68715/
http://blog.law.northwestern.edu/bluhm/2006/10/reid_interrogat.html
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/story/2003/01/27/interrogation030127.html
Edgar Henry is originally from Tanana, and spent his earliest years being raised along the Yukon, with strong traditional Athabascan values, learning to hunt and live with the land. Today he is the proud father of a seven year old girl, who has him pretty wrapped around her finger. He says she is “the boss.”
He spent the night of the murder with George (see him on George’s timeline HERE) along with his brother, the late Patrick Henry. Edgar drank heavily, alongside George. However Patrick did not drink at all, and was very conscious of time that night. He was absolutely certain on the timeline of the group’s movements, and knew George’s whereabouts from well before the time of the murder until after 3am. Edgar’s memory was not as clear.
When police interviewed him, as with others who you can read about here, here, and here, they actually interrogated him. Like with others, they interrogated him with the Reid Method of interrogation, a methodology so likely to produce trauma and false confessions that it is illegal in many countries (read about this interrogation method HERE). It is not ever recommended for use on young people, impaired people, people whose memory is somehow corrupted, and is designed for use on suspects who the police already know are guilty of the crime.
Edgar’s interrogation was a nightmare. After hours of unrelenting questioning, threats, and lies, he agreed that he might have seen George, Marvin, Eugene, and Kevin together that night. He recanted immediately.
Below, Edgar discusses that night, the interrogation, the past, and the future in his own words.
What do you remember about that night?
Yeah, well, we were at George’s house for most the night. We drank, like, cases of beer within just a few hours, playing a drinking game. We got totally wasted. Really, I don’t remember much of the details. Like I came to for a second, and there was a whole group of us walking to the reception, a big group. And I remember walking down the stairs of the Eagle’s Hall, like a flash of it. I remember, well I guess kinda remember, being by the Eagles’ Hall. (Read about the science behind blackouts HERE).
Patrick never drank that night. My late brother was a good guy, and the kind of person that paid attention to time, too. He was with us, just watching over us. I was so wasted that night I guess I gave him like close to like 600 bucks that night, I didn’t even remember. It was the money I had to get an apartment, when I woke up I thought i got rolled or something, all my cash was gone, and then my brother gave it back to me.
That night we stayed at George’s apartment, in the morning he was all, “Man, my ankle is killing me.” He was real hurt, and he left. It was sometime that day, or maybe even later, that next day that I heard he was arrested.
What was your reaction when George was arrested?
At first when I heard he was arrested, I was just confused. I knew he was with us that night, ya know, so when I heard he was in trouble at all I just thought it didn’t make sense. When I heard that he was arrested for charges like these, man I don’t know, I was like, how could that be? How could that even be? I remember talking to my brother Patrick about it, and we just couldn’t understand how, after learning what he was in jail for and them saying it was that night, we knew it was impossible. We knew he was with us the whole night.
When did you talk to the police?
It was a long time, they (the police) kept on trying to get a hold of me. I was avoiding them, because – well, I was scared. I grew up afraid of them, and then they had just gone and done this to my bro.They told me I was, that I had no choice and was like subpeonaed and had to go. So I was scared that they would come arrest me or show up at the house or something like that.
What was it like when you did talk to the cops?
Well I went downtown, and they took me to this room. I remember one of the guys, they kept on going in and out of the room, and the interrogation room is really, really small. I sat down at this small little space, there was just one chair in the that corner I sat in. I was literally cornered. These two officers sitting basically knee to knee with me, like they were, just had me completely cornered. They kept me two, three hours or more. I had never been through anything like that before, and I never, ever want to be in that position again. I believed they were going to arrest me, they had just done it to George.
It was like they were, ya know, telling me pretty much – they were scaring me is what they were doing, saying like maybe you were there, maybe you murdered him, things like that. They way they were questioning me, too, they were asking the same questions over and over and over again, but the question was just asked in different ways and the way they were asking it was pretty much only one way to answer it, which is what they wanted to hear. For hours I kept telling them the plain truth, and they were telling me, “you can’t black out, alcohol doesn’t black you out,” and they were trying to make it sound like I was lying. Then the one was coming in and out, in and out, and lying and telling me that my story was different than my brother’s, that I was going to get Patrick in trouble if I didn’t answer the way they were telling me to. I, I was just really, very scared.
Eventually, I don’t know, I think it was, when I first started agreeing with their answers I was only saying “I guess,” or “I don’t know,” and then they just started making “I guess so” into a “yes.”
That question they kept asking, it was whether you saw these four guys together or getting into a car that night. Did you see those four guys together that night?
No, I only said “I guess so” and all that because, I don’t know, it was like some kind of trick. They would ask, ask, ask, in a different sentence, it was hours of the same question, and I knew that. I knew that the only thing was to just kind of agree, to get out. No, I didn’t see them together that night. I saw George, and that was all.
What about Patrick’s interrogation?
My brother was being questioned at the same time, for a long time too. He, though, he didn’t drink at all, he watched times, he was real sure of himself. He didn’t ever agree to their answers. I guess eventually he told them he wanted he lawyer, so they let him go.
After, after they questioned him and after the trials and all, he was really pissed off at Aaron Ring, and Kendrick, O’Bryant, and all those guys, he was like, man, these guys are racist. That they were just racist. It was so obvious, everyone knew they were not together that night. We knew. They knew. Everyone knew they didn’t do it, Patrick just, he couldn’t believe it.
What was George like back in 1997?
We would always be hanging out, I spent a lot of time with George back then. Lifting weights, sometimes I would babysit for them, just hanging out. George, he was a real good dad, his baby girl was everything to him. Real good dad. I’ve known George, cripes, since I was like 11. Since we were real kids. He’s just a good guy, always liked to joke around, and real cool. He would never do something like this, I mean I know he didn’t, but I know also that he wouldn’t.
You were scared to begin with of the police. Why?
Things back then with the police in general were just bad. I mean everyone was scared. Yeah, even one time when Patrick, when he was like 15 years old, he told me about a time he was driving his bike home and an officer pulled him over, for nothing, then the officer told him to lean against the car with his hands behind his head, and Patrick didn’t hear him, but the officer slammed his head into the car, and said, “Next time you do what I say.” And stories like that, they just happened all the time back then. So of course, of course we were scared.
You were questioned with the same method they used on George. If they had been interrogating you over the murder, do you think you would have agreed, you know, confessed?
Yeah, I do. Probably, yeah, probably. Because, it’s hard to explain, but the persistence, and the pressure, and they way they talk to you. And the way they make you feel, all in your face, making you feel like you are cornered, really you are cornered. And agreeing is the only way out. It’s all about, it is fear. Fear.
Do you think they will be free someday?
I believe they will. Yes, they will. The word is out, people are getting more educated on this, they have been in there long enough, too long, in there for nothing. And I just, I feel it. I have had dreams about it. It’s like it’s in the air. I have no doubt, I believe they will get out.
The story of the Fairbanks Four is old. So, so very old. This happened in 1997, but it was happening long before that, has happened each day since that, is happening now. 1492, 1513, 1667, 1897……in every numbered year this country counts as its own this same story is told. This story is older than any who are reading it today. As old as the first broken treaty, as old as the first proclamation. This proclamation is from 1513, but it could be from any year. They all say the same thing:
But, if you do not do this, and maliciously make delay in it, I certify to you that, with the help of God, we shall powerfully enter into your country, and shall make war against you in all ways and manners that we can, and shall subject you to the yoke and obedience of the Church and of their Highnesses; we shall take you and your wives and your children, and shall make slaves of them, and as such shall sell and dispose of them as their Highnesses may command; and we shall take away your goods, and shall do you all the mischief and damage that we can, as to vassals who do not obey, and refuse to receive their lord, and resist and contradict him; and we protest that the deaths and losses which shall accrue from this are your fault, and not that of their Highnesses, or ours, nor of these cavaliers who come with us.
Proclamations are the only promises made to Indians that never got broken. They all contain a singular threat – one hundred romantically penned variations of the same violent proclamation: cast away your story, strip away all that you are, shed yourself of the past. Take our ways into yourself so completely that you forget you ever had a story separate from the conquerer.Come to us as pilgrims, empty-handed and lost. And if you do not, we will be certain that you suffer in every imaginable way. And this suffering will be your fault.
It was and is a threat impossible to bow under, no matter its gravity. Because we, as humans, cannot shed all that we are. No matter how time marches, no matter how the world around us changes we are, all of us, born into something. Born into a story that began long before we came to this earth, that will continue long after we depart.
In Athabascan culture, in nearly every indigenous culture, there is a story. An idea. A truth. So old it cannot be cast away. It lives inside all the people who were raised with it. Taken at a mother’s breast, breathed in like a smell that can bring you to your knees with homesickness. Stained like a white porcelain cup that has held many years worth of tea. Soaked in like the faint smell of salmon on hands that have worked on the fish all day and all night. Lingering, like the scent wood smoke clings to long hair. Pieces of your distant history that remain. Traces of the place you came from. Bits of long-ago. They cannot be beaten, threatened, or proclaimed away. They remain.
The old ways. For hundreds and thousands of years, those with authority had earned it. These people lived through winters of suffering and summers of laughter, season after season of a life not lived by chance. They spent many hours in work and silence. They found stories in dreams and memory, through all of these things, they were listening. And in this way, authority came to them. A kind of medicine. Chiefs. Healers. Elders. Old warriors. Grandmothers. Among this people, authority was bestowed by fate and by time onto those who deserved it. And authority of this kind could be trusted. They, above all others, could be trusted. Their truth held more power than yours, their truth is more true. And that was the old way.
Yet, it is a new time. And in the new time came authority in new forms, it came to these en differently. Strong-armed, stolen, grabbed, wrestled from the hands of others. A kind of authority taken through vows, seminary, schools, presented in paper certificates, draped on in sashes, pinned on as badges.
You can scream at the top of your lungs, claw at the earth, write until your fingers bleed, and it is still so hard, so very very hard, to show someone a story like this one – so old, so buried, so deep. A story that refuses to rise out of the dream realm, a story that lingers in the in-between, a story that seems never told, just known or not known.
I have to tell you that story. Somehow.
No one wants race to be an issue in this case. No one wants race to be an issue at all. But in some ways we are all beholden to our history. When authority as defined by colonialism encounters children from a culture with a different concept of authority entirely, history bursts into reality. The two parts do not fit they way we wish they did. And it doesn’t make anyone wrong, it simply proves that everyone is human, and that we are not after all exactly the same.
In 1997 in Fairbanks, Alaska there were men in power who issued a proclamation. Not written, not official. Unspoken. Painfully familiar. So very real. We heard it – all the kids that ran around those dismal streets in the 90’s, always afraid, always looking over our shoulders. It shuddered through the air when the cars rolled into Midtown, crept through our streets. When they screeched toward us we could hear it between the pulses of the siren. It came from the static on their radios. We could hear it in our bones……we shall powerfully enter into your country, and shall make war against you in all ways and manners that we can, and shall subject you to the yoke and obedience of the Police and of their Court; we shall take you, and your women and your children, and shall make slaves of you all. We shall sell and dispose of you as the Court may command; and we shall take away your goods, and shall do you all the mischief and damage that we can – and we protest that the deaths and losses which shall accrue from this are your fault, not ours.
We were afraid of these men. We had fair reason to be. Nothing but little kids, chased and caught, pushed and harmed, by grown men. A deeper reason, too. Something like the way the fish moves from just the slight shadow of the spear, the way any animal knows when what would end it lurks near. We feared these men who were somehow also people with authority. We knew that there was something in us they sought to punish. And it shames me still to say it, but if we could have cast it away and freed ourselves of the dogs at our heels, I think we would have. But we couldn’t. And we didn’t know how to stand up against it.
Inside us with that fear – lingering, stronger – was a very old way. A way that whispered a contradiction: these men have authority. They possess a truth greater than our own. Perhaps not earned, but there nonetheless. They will tie you to a chair. Lock you away. Steal you from your family. Cut your tongue, take your breath, try, try to take away the story.
So, when they came to take away the simple truth from a dozen and more young Indians, they got what they wanted. Or at least, they thought they did.
Underneath, the truth remained. Proclamations were fulfilled and treaties broken, but still something kept the people and their story alive.The truth waited. It never changed and it grew only stronger. Because in these last fourteen years we did the work of remembering. Remembering that you cannot take away a person’s story. You cannot abduct, handcuff, beat down, or lock up the truth.
Some of us do not make proclamations or treaties. Some still prefer to lay in wait, to rely on truth and prophecy, to do our work and let the world do its work. So, we will not proclaim to you that something has changed. But we will be here, as present and as peaceful as shadows in the grass, because we have never left. And we are content simply to know, to feel the years blow through like winds, the push of something coming up through the soil. There is no proclamation, only the truth. We know what comes next. See, this is still our story, this is still a story where truth outlasts and outsmarts deceit.
We know the ending.
The Fairbanks Four 