"Your honor, we the people of Mississippi find the accused, Cedric Willis, guilty of murder."
The people of Mississippi were wrong. They made a mistake for which Cedric Willis paid a heavy price—12 years of his life. In March this year, the mistake was corrected on the basis of evidence that was known at the time of his trial. The people of Mississippi, represented by the district attorney's office and the trial judge, precluded the jury from hearing this exculpatory evidence. It was a shameful travesty of justice. We the people unjustly incarcerated an innocent young man.
It is hard enough to serve a prison sentence even when guilty. I know from personal experience how rough prison life is because I, too, served time in a long-term prison. Unlike Cedric, I had broken the law, and jail time was just punishment for my crime. Life in prison is no picnic. I can barely imagine how hard it must have been for Cedric, an innocent person, to do hard time for no good reason. Twelve years is a long time, and even one day was too long for him to be unjustly cut off from his family, his beloved grandmother, his mom, his sister and especially his son, C.J.
Mistakes can have devastating consequences. In Cedric's case, we the people devastated his life. He was denied the opportunity to learn a trade, find a bride and build his life. The American dream was replaced by a Mississippi nightmare.
He is due an apology. He also deserves some form of restitution. After all, ultimately we are responsible for the grave mistake that was made in our name. We the people robbed him of a big chunk of his life.
We all make mistakes. Sometimes, we mess up badly, and when we do, the consequences are often calamitous. Throughout the world, the criminal justice system makes mistakes. The U.S. is neither different nor better; we should not be too shocked when trial juries make mistakes. After all, they're only human.
What should we do when we mess up and others are hurt because of a mistake?
We know the answer: It is contained in the morality we endeavor to impart to our children. We must acknowledge our mistake, be contrite, say "sorry," learn from the error and fix it, as we are able. We have no other redemptive recourse. This is the pattern expressed in the best traditions of all great religions. Confession, contrition, repentance and restitution truly are good for the soul. If our mistakes were bereft of any possibility for restoration, the only thing left would be brokenness and damage. But thank God, there is usually a remedy for our mistakes. It is possible for us to be defined by more than our mess-ups—but only if we are willing to acknowledge our wrongdoing and respond with a kind spirit and restorative actions.
That's why I consider Cedric's case to be a deeply spiritual matter. How we respond to injustice in our neighborhood describes how we will do so everywhere. It expresses the quality of our humanity and articulates the integrity of our religion. To use the language of my personal faith tradition, "How Christian are we, really?"
The landscape of Jackson is dotted with hundreds of churches. That may be good for the community—it all depends on what kind of spirit resides within. What is the meaning of the "good news" that flows so vocally from thousands of pulpits in relation to Cedric or others who have been violated because of society's mistakes?
The socio-judicial system that made such a dreadful mistake is wholly unrepentant. The State of Mississippi says it does not owe Cedric any recompense for the years that were stolen from him. I believe that's un-Christian. The judge who ordered Cedric's release declared: "I believe you were innocent 12 years ago, and I believe that you are innocent today. The wheels of justice grind very slowly, but sometimes they grind in the right direction." They need to grind some more if justice is to be fully done to Cedric.
Justice denied is injustice. Unless some form of restitution is made to Cedric, there is no justice. We owe it to Cedric to make it possible for him to make a fresh start in life. He was denied the opportunity to make a living and accumulate the material assets to which we all aspire. He was cheated by the very system we depend on to protect us and preserve our basic human rights. That system has washed its hands of him, and that stinks. If only some public official had reached out to Cedric on behalf of us all, to render an official apology on behalf of the institutions of the state; to tell him we are sorry that he was made to suffer because a mistake was made—only then will some sense of moral decency be restored in this regrettable saga.
As a foreign resident who truly loves this wonderful state, I sometimes wonder about the reluctance of officialdom in America to admit, "We are sorry; we made a mistake." In South Africa, we joyfully learned the redemptive and reconciliatory value of saying, "Sorry, we were wrong. Please forgive us."
Despite this moral lapse by the state of Mississippi, I am hopeful that the people of Mississippi will, as a matter of Christian conscience, rise to the occasion and express their sorrow for the wrong done to Cedric. Mississippi prides itself on the compassion and charity of its people. In this instance, charity should include Cedric. He neither seeks nor deserves the indignity of a hand-out, but after spending 12 years in a lonely prison cell, he justly needs and deserves a hand up.
Visiting with Cedric is a humbling experience. Sitting in our lounge, speaking quietly, he exhibited no anger or bitterness. He is simply grateful to be home. I sense he is slowly recovering—every now and then he smiles, and an appreciative sparkle lights up his face. He took time during those interminably long years to reflect on how he would like to productively spend the rest of his years, and he quietly spoke of his hopes for the future.
I hope we might accept that we have a moral obligation to assist him, as an act of restitution for the stolen years.
What can we do?
First, I invite you to tell him you are sorry that our mistake, society's mistake, cost him 12 years of his life. We cannot give back those years, but we can soften the injustice by stretching out a hand of friendship. Feel free to write him, c/o Brian Johnson, at the Jackson Free Press. Your letters of support and best wishes for the future will be given to Cedric.
Second, I invite you to contribute financially to a fund we've established to assist him with start-up capital as he makes plans for the next 12 years. He would like to finish more schooling. He's hoping to start a small business. At the least, he would like to spoil his son and his mother in this special season of goodwill. He is excited to be home for Christmas.
Checks can be sent to Sherry Russum, Galloway U.M. Church, P O Box 1092, Jackson 39215—kindly indicate Cedric Willis on the memo line.
Welcome home Cedric. And sorry for "the years the locusts have eaten." Have a truly blessed Christmas season with your family and friends. It's a great time of the year. We know—we've freely enjoyed them these past 12 years.
Rev. Ross Olivier is a minister of the Methodist Church of Southern Africa serving on temporary assignment at Galloway United Methodist Church.
Read the original story by Brian Johnson on Cedric Willis here.
This story has been corrected from the print version.
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