
Neal Embry
Anthony Ray Hinton signs books for attendees at his speech at the Vestavia Library on Aug. 8. Hinton spent 30 years on death row before being exonerated in 2015.
“30 years. 30 years of pure hell. There’s no other word to describe what it’s like being on death row.”
Anthony Ray Hinton spent 30 years behind bars, waiting for the day when the state of Alabama would put him to death for two capital murders he didn’t commit.
For 30 years, Hinton woke up at a quarter to three in the morning, awaiting the breakfast served to death row inmates, whether they wanted it or not. For 30 years, Hinton spent his days in a 5x7 cell, unable to feel the rain fall on his head, or to see the stars at night, because in 1985, Hinton was convicted of killing two restaurant managers in two separate robberies in the Bessemer area, despite there being no evidence to his guilt.
A survivor of a third robbery incorrectly identified Hinton as the man who shot him. Police, believing the gunman in the third robbery was also responsible for the two previous robberies in which two people were killed, initially accused Hinton of robbery, kidnapping and attempted murder. When Hinton’s boss told police he was working the night of the third robbery, the state chose to instead charge him with two counts of capital murder from the first two robberies.
Hinton told a crowd gathered at the Vestavia Hills Library on Aug. 8 the story of his arrest and subsequent trial, and the injustice he suffered at the hands of both law enforcement and prosecutors.
“On one of the hottest days in July, I woke up like any other man, not thinking about going to prison because I hadn’t done anything to go to prison for,” Hinton said.
While he was cutting the grass, Hinton looked up and noticed two white police officers standing near his home. They told him they had a warrant for his arrest, and, after reluctantly allowing him to say goodbye to his mother, they placed him in a police car and took him into custody.
During the car ride, Hinton had to ask many times why he was being arrested, before one of the officers asked if he owned a gun. While he did not own a gun, Hinton told them his mother did. Police retrieved the gun, without a search warrant, and informed Hinton of his initial charges.
Hinton told them he was innocent, but to no avail. The officers told him it didn’t matter if he did it or not.
“I don’t care whether you did it or didn’t do it,” Hinton said the cop told him. “I’m going to make sure you’re found guilty for it.”
The officer told Hinton five things would convict him: he was black, a white man would testify he shot him, a white prosecutor would oversee the case and he would have a white judge and, more than likely, an all-white jury.
“Do you know what that spells?” Hinton said the cop asked him. “Conviction. Conviction. Conviction. Conviction. Conviction.”
Even after realizing he couldn’t have committed the third robbery, police said while they believed him, he’d have to take the rap for murders someone else committed.
“I believe you, but since y’all (black people) is always taking up for one another, take this for one of your homeboys,” Hinton said the police told him.
Hinton’s lawyer showed little interest in proving his innocence, despite Hinton passing a polygraph test. A ballistics “expert” for the state testified the bullets found at the crime scene matched his mother’s gun, despite him having problems with his vision and the fact that Hinton’s mother’s gun hadn’t been fired in decades, a fact police attested to when they retrieved the gun.
Hinton was sentenced to death by electrocution and was sent to Holman Correctional Facility to await death. He was told the prosecution showed little interest in whether he was actually guilty, and used racial slurs against him in private.
“We may have got the wrong n----- off the street today, but at least we got one off the street,” they said, according to Hinton.
Life on Death Row
“How does one survive 30 years in a 5x7?” Hinton asked the audience.
Hinton went to death row full of hatred for the men who put him there, but he said he had to learn to forgive them so he could move forward.
“I didn’t forgive them so they could sleep good at night,” Hinton said. “I forgave them so I could sleep good at night.”
While on death row, Hinton realized while he couldn’t go anywhere physically, he could use his imagination to escape. He even, in his mind of course, married Halle Berry, who he later divorced to marry Sandra Bullock, who he first saw when the state began showing movies to inmates. In his mind, Hinton was not a death row inmate, but a visitor to Queen Elizabeth II.
“They could put me in this 5x7, but I have a mind that I can go anywhere I wanted to, whenever I wanted, wherever I wanted, and they couldn't do anything about it,” Hinton said.
New Hope
One day, Hinton received a visit from a lawyer from Boston, who said he represented Bryan Stevenson, founder of the Montgomery-based Equal Justice Initiative.
The man told Hinton he could try and get him life without parole, but Hinton refused, saying he wanted someone who believed he was innocent, that life without parole is for guilty people.
As Hinton was returning to his cell, he noticed a guard watching television, and he asked what he was watching. As it turns out, Stevenson was making a speech on TV about why America doesn’t need the death penalty.
“At that moment, I can’t explain it to you, but I knew this is the man that I wanted to represent me,” Hinton said.
Hinton wrote Stevenson a letter, and told him he wanted him to become his lawyer, but only if he believed he was innocent. Stevenson did, and the fight to free Hinton began.
Despite three ballistics experts testifying that the gun and bullets found at the scene did not match, and that the state had made a mistake, then-Alabama Attorney General Bill Pryor said it would be a waste of taxpayer dollars for the court to re-examine the evidence. Pryor was later made a federal judge by former president George W. Bush.
The next two AG’s, Troy King and Luther Strange, also refused to “do the right thing,” Hinton said.
“Three different attorney generals didn’t have the backbone to get up and do the right thing,” Hinton said. “And yet they all said it would be a waste of your money. Well, what about a waste of 30 years?"
While waiting for his case to appear before the U.S. Supreme Court, Hinton’s mother died. After Stevenson appeared before the USSC, Hinton was granted a new trial, and a district court threw out his conviction. On April 3, 2015, for the first time since he was 29 years old, Hinton, 59 at the time, walked out of prison a free man.
Where’s My Justice?
Hinton told the crowd since his release no one from the state of Alabama has apologized to him, compensated him, or asked him if he needed anything. While he’s been freed, and has forgiven those who wronged him, Hinton is still searching for the justice he deserves. Despite his repeated attempts to have the state give him $1.5 million for falsely imprisoning him for 30 years, the state has refused to compensate him. Hinton said the legislature had no problem investigating and causing the resignation of former governor Robert Bentley, who resigned in disgrace after an extramarital affair, but they cannot bring themselves to give him justice.
“What about my 30 years in that cage?” Hinton said. “What about what I’m going through now? What about my state of mind? … Where’s my justice? Where’s my justice for 30 years? Who do I see for justice? Who do I need to talk to to get justice?”
Hinton fixed up his mother’s home, and bought himself a king-size bed thanks to a generous donation. He said he thought, after 30 years of sleeping in the fetal position, that he’d be able to stretch out. But, three years after being freed, Hinton can’t fall asleep at night until he brings his legs up to his chest.
When he was released, Hinton asked Stevenson for two things: a way to tell his story around the world, and to get his vote back. With the release of his book, “The Sun Does Shine,” named after his first words when released from prison, Hinton is telling his story, and encouraging people to oppose the death penalty. Hinton told the crowd at the library while he appreciated their tears, he wanted them to “take those tears to the ballot box,” and vote for those who stood for justice.
A Deer in Headlights
Hinton exited prison to a world he did not know. Cell phones, credit cards and an expanded interstate system all became commonplace when he was locked up.
“I couldn’t even comprehend,” Hinton told a reporter. “The world changed. … I was like a deer caught in headlights, looking into a world he’s never seen. … How do I cope with all of this?”
Hinton went to get food with a friend shortly after being released. His friend had Hinton’s tea, and paid for it with a card. Hinton, not realizing that the tea was paid for, panicked, telling the cashier he wasn’t going (back) to jail for tea. Hinton’s friend apologized, because he forgot to tell him that people have debit and credit cards now.
“I’ve come out to a world that I’m still trying to get to learn,” Hinton said. “I’m still learning to adapt to the telephone. It makes me feel dumb that I can see a child, and they can come and work the phone like it’s nothing. … How long will it take me to learn how to use this phone?
“After spending 30 years with the world passing you by, you come out to a world, and you’re just lost in it,” Hinton said.
Now, Hinton walks in the rain, despite his niece saying it’s “not normal.” After 30 years of not feeling the rain, Hinton doesn’t care. Every night at 10:30, Hinton walks out his door and looks up at the stars, a sight he couldn’t see for 30 long years.
“Prison has a way of making you realize what you truly missed,” Hinton said.
Hinton said he doesn't take his hard-won freedom for granted.
"There's nothing in this world like freedom," Hinton said.
Hinton said if he could talk to the people who put him behind bars, he would tell them he forgives them, and that they must learn to forgive themselves.
“They took 30 years of my life,” Hinton said. “I wouldn’t let them take anything else.”