One day before freedom
I got back up in my bunk and pondered the many questions that plagued my mind. When I awoke to the jangle of keys in the door, I realized that I must have dozed off for a while. The guard said that there were some people there to see me. I followed him to the visiting room.
As I turned to enter, I saw a beautiful young woman standing in front of me. In a split second, I realized that this radiant woman with the beautiful smile was Elizabeth. My blessed mother was standing by her side. An uncontrollable feeling welled up in my chest and I began to cry. In that very same visiting room years earlier I had last seen Elizabeth as a young girl. Now she was grown up. She looked so much like her mother. We stood for a moment, uncertain about what to do as we stared at each other, our faces quivering with emotion. Then we lunged into each other’s arms, embracing each other with every ounce of emotion that had been locked away inside us for the past twelve years. With our hearts, minds, and bodies united, we embraced for what seemed like a lifetime—the lifetime that we had been cheated out of.
“Daddy, you are going home tomorrow,” Elizabeth said, her voice trembling. I could feel her hot tears falling on my neck and shoulders. “I’ve missed you and love you so much, Dad.”
—Page 447
Excerpt from "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz
Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Dennis Fritz's Book. "Journey Toward Justice" Bestseller on Amazon click here to order
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Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Showing posts with label book. Show all posts
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
The Conviction Journey Toward Justice by Dennis Fritz Book Excerpt
The Conviction
With their eyes and heads held low, the jury walked in and somberly took their assigned seats. The majority of the female jurors starred downward with a blank expression upon their rigid faces. Three of the four male jurors gazed straight ahead. Just as Jones asked the jury foreman if the jury had reached a verdict, Cecil Smith arched his head in my direction and looked squarely at me, as if to let me know that I was getting what I deserved. I didn’t have to hear the jury’s verdict being read. I already knew what the outcome was going to be—just as I had known from day one of the trial.
“Mr. Sanders, would you please hand the papers to the bailiff, please?”
“Read the verdict, please,” requested Jones.
“Verdict Criminal, State of Oklahoma, Country of Pontotoc in District Court, the State of Oklahoma versus Dennis L. Fritz, Defendant, Case Number CRF-87-90. We the jury drawn, impaneled and sworn in the above entitled cause do upon our oaths find the defendant guilty of Murder in the First Degree. Signed, Wayne Sanders, Foreman.”
Though I had mentally prepared myself for a guilty verdict, I wasn’t prepared for the torrent of feelings that swept through me. I lowered my head and remained seated, feeling for the first time a sense of paralysis as I listened to the muffled sobs of Mom and Aunt Wilma behind me. The lights in the courtroom swirled and spun as I grew weak and numb with the reality that I had just been found guilty of a murder that I knew nothing about. I had no reserve of energy or passion left to stand and shout to the jury that they had made a terrible mistake. Instead, my thoughts shifted to more immediate questions: How would Elizabeth react after hearing this news, how would Mom and Aunt Wilma deal with this decision physically and emotionally, and finally, how would I face this same panel of strangers as they decided whether I lived or died? I didn’t look at Greg. I couldn’t.
Jones’s voice brought me back to the present. He read down through the roster of jurors and polled their verdicts one by one. Greg had said this would happen as a matter of procedure. No one faltered as they each stated their verdict: “Guilty.” “Guilty.” “Guilty....” Their words of finality pounded against my eardrums. — Page 294
Excerpt from "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz
Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Dennis Fritz's Book. "Journey Toward Justice" click here
International Orders Order Here "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz From Around The World click hereAmazon International Just type in Journey Toward Justice Author Dennis Fritz
With their eyes and heads held low, the jury walked in and somberly took their assigned seats. The majority of the female jurors starred downward with a blank expression upon their rigid faces. Three of the four male jurors gazed straight ahead. Just as Jones asked the jury foreman if the jury had reached a verdict, Cecil Smith arched his head in my direction and looked squarely at me, as if to let me know that I was getting what I deserved. I didn’t have to hear the jury’s verdict being read. I already knew what the outcome was going to be—just as I had known from day one of the trial.
“Mr. Sanders, would you please hand the papers to the bailiff, please?”
“Read the verdict, please,” requested Jones.
“Verdict Criminal, State of Oklahoma, Country of Pontotoc in District Court, the State of Oklahoma versus Dennis L. Fritz, Defendant, Case Number CRF-87-90. We the jury drawn, impaneled and sworn in the above entitled cause do upon our oaths find the defendant guilty of Murder in the First Degree. Signed, Wayne Sanders, Foreman.”
Though I had mentally prepared myself for a guilty verdict, I wasn’t prepared for the torrent of feelings that swept through me. I lowered my head and remained seated, feeling for the first time a sense of paralysis as I listened to the muffled sobs of Mom and Aunt Wilma behind me. The lights in the courtroom swirled and spun as I grew weak and numb with the reality that I had just been found guilty of a murder that I knew nothing about. I had no reserve of energy or passion left to stand and shout to the jury that they had made a terrible mistake. Instead, my thoughts shifted to more immediate questions: How would Elizabeth react after hearing this news, how would Mom and Aunt Wilma deal with this decision physically and emotionally, and finally, how would I face this same panel of strangers as they decided whether I lived or died? I didn’t look at Greg. I couldn’t.
Jones’s voice brought me back to the present. He read down through the roster of jurors and polled their verdicts one by one. Greg had said this would happen as a matter of procedure. No one faltered as they each stated their verdict: “Guilty.” “Guilty.” “Guilty....” Their words of finality pounded against my eardrums. — Page 294
Excerpt from "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz
Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Dennis Fritz's Book. "Journey Toward Justice" click here
International Orders Order Here "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz From Around The World click hereAmazon International Just type in Journey Toward Justice Author Dennis Fritz
The Arrest Journey Toward Justice by Dennis Fritz Book Excerpt
Dennis Fritz was an ordinary man living an ordinary life in Ada , Oklahoma . A school teacher whose wife was brutally murdered in 1975, Dennis was raising his young daughter on his own. On the fateful evening of May 8, 1987 , Dennis was enveloped by a sudden foreboding sensation. He could not explain the eerie feeling in his gut-the sense that something is about to happen. Two hours later, he was under arrest, handcuffed and on his way to jail on charges of rape and murder. Read excerpts of the book, below.
The Arrest
I jumped back in surprise as I approached the doorway. There on the porch in the dark stood three men—two dressed in suits, one in casual wear—listening at the screen door. All three wore the same unpleasant, discourteous expression, an expression that didn’t change as I neared the door.
Half-dazed and confused, I turned on the porch light and uttered, “Can I do something for you gentlemen?”
There was a moment of awkwardness before the man in the polo shirt, the one closest to the screen door, broke his silence by asking in a deep baritone, “Is your name Dennis Fritz?” His question set my nerves on edge as his look penetrated my face. I didn’t recognize him. His straightforward approach puzzled me, as though he may have had some business with me before.
From behind me in the hallway I heard Mom call out, “Son, Who is…talking…late.” I could barely distinguish her words, let alone give her an answer. I stood riveted in curiosity and fear by the triple set of dagger glares from the men who were awaiting my response.
I pushed open the screen door a few inches and looked beyond the men on the porch. Something moved in the front yard. By the glow of the porch light, I was able to make out a handful of men in uniforms crouching on the lawn. I froze as I counted. There were maybe twenty officers altogether, all pointing what appeared to be automatic weapons at me. To my left, and then to my right beyond the screen, more uniformed officers slid into position as I held onto the door handle. Likewise, their weapon barrels were trained at me. I felt woozy. Courage drained from me in a flash as I stammered to answer the interrogator’s question:
“Yes, my name is Dennis.” I took a breath and blurted out “What’s the matter?”
Without acknowledging may question, one of the strangers in a suit repeated his partner’s question: “Is your full name Dennis Fritz?”
Something—I didn’t know what—was seriously wrong with this situation. In the seconds before I answered, I determined that they were making a big mistake. I didn’t even live here. Wasn’t it possible that there were two Dennis Fritzes in this city, and that they had the wrong one? I hadn’t done anything that warranted a SWAT team. My mind struggled to understand what was playing out. Every sound, every motion, every smell, every sensation came to me in slow motion, like I was watching a movie on a giant three-dimensional panoramic screen.
“Yes, my name is Dennis Fritz,” I answered. —Page 7
Dennis Fritz's Book. "Journey Toward Justice" click here
International Orders Order Here "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz From Around The World click hereAmazon International Just type in Journey Toward Justice Author Dennis Fritz
Excerpt from "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz
Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher
The Arrest
I jumped back in surprise as I approached the doorway. There on the porch in the dark stood three men—two dressed in suits, one in casual wear—listening at the screen door. All three wore the same unpleasant, discourteous expression, an expression that didn’t change as I neared the door.
Half-dazed and confused, I turned on the porch light and uttered, “Can I do something for you gentlemen?”
There was a moment of awkwardness before the man in the polo shirt, the one closest to the screen door, broke his silence by asking in a deep baritone, “Is your name Dennis Fritz?” His question set my nerves on edge as his look penetrated my face. I didn’t recognize him. His straightforward approach puzzled me, as though he may have had some business with me before.
From behind me in the hallway I heard Mom call out, “Son, Who is…talking…late.” I could barely distinguish her words, let alone give her an answer. I stood riveted in curiosity and fear by the triple set of dagger glares from the men who were awaiting my response.
I pushed open the screen door a few inches and looked beyond the men on the porch. Something moved in the front yard. By the glow of the porch light, I was able to make out a handful of men in uniforms crouching on the lawn. I froze as I counted. There were maybe twenty officers altogether, all pointing what appeared to be automatic weapons at me. To my left, and then to my right beyond the screen, more uniformed officers slid into position as I held onto the door handle. Likewise, their weapon barrels were trained at me. I felt woozy. Courage drained from me in a flash as I stammered to answer the interrogator’s question:
“Yes, my name is Dennis.” I took a breath and blurted out “What’s the matter?”
Without acknowledging may question, one of the strangers in a suit repeated his partner’s question: “Is your full name Dennis Fritz?”
Something—I didn’t know what—was seriously wrong with this situation. In the seconds before I answered, I determined that they were making a big mistake. I didn’t even live here. Wasn’t it possible that there were two Dennis Fritzes in this city, and that they had the wrong one? I hadn’t done anything that warranted a SWAT team. My mind struggled to understand what was playing out. Every sound, every motion, every smell, every sensation came to me in slow motion, like I was watching a movie on a giant three-dimensional panoramic screen.
“Yes, my name is Dennis Fritz,” I answered. —Page 7
Dennis Fritz's Book. "Journey Toward Justice" click here
International Orders Order Here "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz From Around The World click hereAmazon International Just type in Journey Toward Justice Author Dennis Fritz
Excerpt from "Journey Toward Justice" by Dennis Fritz
Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Smith and Rogers Attempting To Gain Their Long Sought After Confession
Where the Ada Detectives' Smith and Rogers last chance, fully heated interrogation, began in the Kansas City Police Department. Just following Dennis Fritz's arrest, 5 years after the murder of Debbie Sue Carter, detectives, utilizing their Mutt and Jeff tactics, attempting to gain their long sought after confession.
Smith sat silently, his uncomfortable eyes trained on mine.
Rogers suddenly turned from my direct line of vision and walked back across the room. He removed his Stetson hat and set it on top of his closed briefcase. Rolling up his shirt sleeves, as if to tell me it was time to get into the ring, he bluntly said, "We have filed the death penalty on you in a bill of particulars, and we are going to make it stick." Walking closer to me in a cat-like fashion, he persisted by saying, "Did you hear me, Dennis? We have filed the death penalty on you, and we definitely have enough good evidence on you to send you to lethal injection." Stepping nearer to me in breath-close range, he added in a higher-pitched tone, "It took me five whole years but we have got the goods on you, and our evidence is strong.
"Finally, leaning even closer, he repeatedly jabbed his forefinger into my breastbone, over-emphasizing each and every word as his lips spat, "We are going to kill you for what you did, and there is nothing that you can do about it. We have a solid case of murder in the first degree against you, so get it off your chest, Fritz, and be the man we think you are. You need to realize that we have been working in this field for a long time now, and both of us understand how someone might get to drinking and let things get out of control. We know from other cases we've solved that murdering someone in the heat of the moment is a lot easier than someone might think. So get it off your chest, Fritz, and tell us how it really happened.
"Without a flicker of apprehension, I blurted out, I didn't kill anyone, and I don't know anything about what you're talking about. If you want to try to kill me, then go ahead. I'm not scared of anything you can do to me because I am an innocent person!
"The veins in Roger's neck protruded as he roared, "Fritz, we haven't got time for these games and your lies. Make it easy on yourself and confess, right now!""Yes!" I shrieked. "Yes, I will confess at this time.
"Smith bolted from his chair and left the room. There was silence. If a pin had dropped, it would have sounded like a sledgehammer hitting the floor. Rogers waited for Smith to return.
When he came back, he carried a small tape recorder in his porky hands. He hastily set the recorder on the table, plugged it in, and switched it on. His sudden movements were in contrast to his earlier placid performance.
Now it was his turn in the ring as he instructed me: "Dennis, this won't take long, and we can get this all cleared up here in a few minutes. As you have surely guessed, we are here to help you out,and your honesty in the form of a confession will keep you off of death row. Now Dennis, tell us exactly how it happened.
"I looked at the recorder with its wheels spinning silently and then candidly exclaimed to the detectives, "Okay, I'm going to give you my confession. It's the whole truth in every way and I am not going to leave anything out. Here it is: I am an innocent man and have never in my life killed anyone, and furthermore, I am not going to confess to a murder that I didn't do or know nothing about. What do you guys take me for - a complete imbecile?
"Both detectives' faces flushed red. Rogers angrily wrenched his body around and stomped across the room. He snatched up his Stetson, put it on his head, and said with great resentment, "Fritz, we are tired of fooling around with you. You are not funny. If you want to die on the lethal injection table, that is your decision." Turning towards Smith, Rogers remarked with disgust, "If you would like to talk to him any further, then you can stay. I am going back to the hotel and get comfortable while Fritz suffers with these lies.
"Okay, Gary. I'll meet you back at the room in an hour.
"Rogers stormed out.After several minutes, Smith spoke. "Dennis, we don't really believe that you murdered Debbie Carter.
"Because his glare seemed to invite a response, I challenged him by asking, "If you guys don't think I committed the murder, then why have I been charged?
"Smith scooted his chair slightly closer to me as he whispered,"We don't think you were the aggressor in this. We strongly believe that Williamson did the actual killing and was the more aggressive one in the rape and murder. We believe that you were there and Williamson put you in a position to participate in the rape but not the murder. Fritz, I can help you out if you talk to me. As a matter of fact, both Gary and I don't think that you're the kind of guy that would be capable of outright murder. On the other hand , we know that Williamson is. We believe you were there and that is just as bad as you committing the murder yourself. Dennis, we dug up Debbie Carter's body body and what we found proves that you were there and participated in the murder."
"Smith, I've heard enough of your bullshit. I've told you both over and over that I didn't commit no murder, so take me to my cell.I'm not going to put up with your crazy insinuations no more. I am ready to go!.
"Have it your way, Fritz, I really hate to see you fall for a capital murder that you did not fully commit. Will you talk to me tomorrow before we leave?
From pages 37,38,39
"Excerpted from Journey Toward Justice by Dennis Fritz Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Smith sat silently, his uncomfortable eyes trained on mine.
Rogers suddenly turned from my direct line of vision and walked back across the room. He removed his Stetson hat and set it on top of his closed briefcase. Rolling up his shirt sleeves, as if to tell me it was time to get into the ring, he bluntly said, "We have filed the death penalty on you in a bill of particulars, and we are going to make it stick." Walking closer to me in a cat-like fashion, he persisted by saying, "Did you hear me, Dennis? We have filed the death penalty on you, and we definitely have enough good evidence on you to send you to lethal injection." Stepping nearer to me in breath-close range, he added in a higher-pitched tone, "It took me five whole years but we have got the goods on you, and our evidence is strong.
"Finally, leaning even closer, he repeatedly jabbed his forefinger into my breastbone, over-emphasizing each and every word as his lips spat, "We are going to kill you for what you did, and there is nothing that you can do about it. We have a solid case of murder in the first degree against you, so get it off your chest, Fritz, and be the man we think you are. You need to realize that we have been working in this field for a long time now, and both of us understand how someone might get to drinking and let things get out of control. We know from other cases we've solved that murdering someone in the heat of the moment is a lot easier than someone might think. So get it off your chest, Fritz, and tell us how it really happened.
"Without a flicker of apprehension, I blurted out, I didn't kill anyone, and I don't know anything about what you're talking about. If you want to try to kill me, then go ahead. I'm not scared of anything you can do to me because I am an innocent person!
"The veins in Roger's neck protruded as he roared, "Fritz, we haven't got time for these games and your lies. Make it easy on yourself and confess, right now!""Yes!" I shrieked. "Yes, I will confess at this time.
"Smith bolted from his chair and left the room. There was silence. If a pin had dropped, it would have sounded like a sledgehammer hitting the floor. Rogers waited for Smith to return.
When he came back, he carried a small tape recorder in his porky hands. He hastily set the recorder on the table, plugged it in, and switched it on. His sudden movements were in contrast to his earlier placid performance.
Now it was his turn in the ring as he instructed me: "Dennis, this won't take long, and we can get this all cleared up here in a few minutes. As you have surely guessed, we are here to help you out,and your honesty in the form of a confession will keep you off of death row. Now Dennis, tell us exactly how it happened.
"I looked at the recorder with its wheels spinning silently and then candidly exclaimed to the detectives, "Okay, I'm going to give you my confession. It's the whole truth in every way and I am not going to leave anything out. Here it is: I am an innocent man and have never in my life killed anyone, and furthermore, I am not going to confess to a murder that I didn't do or know nothing about. What do you guys take me for - a complete imbecile?
"Both detectives' faces flushed red. Rogers angrily wrenched his body around and stomped across the room. He snatched up his Stetson, put it on his head, and said with great resentment, "Fritz, we are tired of fooling around with you. You are not funny. If you want to die on the lethal injection table, that is your decision." Turning towards Smith, Rogers remarked with disgust, "If you would like to talk to him any further, then you can stay. I am going back to the hotel and get comfortable while Fritz suffers with these lies.
"Okay, Gary. I'll meet you back at the room in an hour.
"Rogers stormed out.After several minutes, Smith spoke. "Dennis, we don't really believe that you murdered Debbie Carter.
"Because his glare seemed to invite a response, I challenged him by asking, "If you guys don't think I committed the murder, then why have I been charged?
"Smith scooted his chair slightly closer to me as he whispered,"We don't think you were the aggressor in this. We strongly believe that Williamson did the actual killing and was the more aggressive one in the rape and murder. We believe that you were there and Williamson put you in a position to participate in the rape but not the murder. Fritz, I can help you out if you talk to me. As a matter of fact, both Gary and I don't think that you're the kind of guy that would be capable of outright murder. On the other hand , we know that Williamson is. We believe you were there and that is just as bad as you committing the murder yourself. Dennis, we dug up Debbie Carter's body body and what we found proves that you were there and participated in the murder."
"Smith, I've heard enough of your bullshit. I've told you both over and over that I didn't commit no murder, so take me to my cell.I'm not going to put up with your crazy insinuations no more. I am ready to go!.
"Have it your way, Fritz, I really hate to see you fall for a capital murder that you did not fully commit. Will you talk to me tomorrow before we leave?
From pages 37,38,39
"Excerpted from Journey Toward Justice by Dennis Fritz Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Foreword Barry Scheck The Innocence Project
Book Excerpt From "Journey Toward Justice", Author Dennis Fritz
Foreword Barry Scheck, The Innocence Project -
When Dennis Fritz testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee in support of the Innocence Protection Act - legislation that ultimately passed that supports efforts to get post-conviction DNA testing for those claiming innocence - I actually saw tears in the eyes of worldly politicians who for decades had heard an endless stream of moving stories from multitude of witnesses. Among them were Senator Patrick Leahy, Democrat from Vermont and the legislation's sponsor and great champion, and Senator Orrin Hatch, Republican from Utah. Indeed, Senator Hatch said with unmistakable sincerity that he was humbled by what Dennis had to say. I thought that phrase deftly captured what everyone was feeling - a sense of awe that this man could survive and recount his incredible, hair-raising life story passionately, modestly, and thoughtfully all at once.
And what a life story it is - the literary equivalent to the wildest hardest-of-hard luck, happiest-of-happy-endings country-and-western song one could imagine. It is a yarn that Hank Williams at his darkest and brightest and on LSD could not have conjured. The wrongful conviction, as you shall see, is only part of the story.
Excerpted from Journey Toward Justice by Dennis Fritz Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Foreword Barry Scheck, The Innocence Project -
When Dennis Fritz testified before the Senate Judiciary Committee in support of the Innocence Protection Act - legislation that ultimately passed that supports efforts to get post-conviction DNA testing for those claiming innocence - I actually saw tears in the eyes of worldly politicians who for decades had heard an endless stream of moving stories from multitude of witnesses. Among them were Senator Patrick Leahy, Democrat from Vermont and the legislation's sponsor and great champion, and Senator Orrin Hatch, Republican from Utah. Indeed, Senator Hatch said with unmistakable sincerity that he was humbled by what Dennis had to say. I thought that phrase deftly captured what everyone was feeling - a sense of awe that this man could survive and recount his incredible, hair-raising life story passionately, modestly, and thoughtfully all at once.
And what a life story it is - the literary equivalent to the wildest hardest-of-hard luck, happiest-of-happy-endings country-and-western song one could imagine. It is a yarn that Hank Williams at his darkest and brightest and on LSD could not have conjured. The wrongful conviction, as you shall see, is only part of the story.
Excerpted from Journey Toward Justice by Dennis Fritz Copyright © 2006 by Seven Locks Press. Excerpted by permission of Seven Locks Press All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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