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When Bryan Stevenson was in his 20s, he lived in Atlanta and practiced law at the Southern Prisoners Defense Committee.

One evening, he was parked outside of his apartment listening to the radio, when SWAT police approached his car, shined a light inside and pulled a gun.

They yelled, "Move and I'll blow your head off!" according to Stevenson. Stevenson says the officers suspected him of theft and threatened him — because he is black.

The incident fueled Stevenson's drive to challenge racial bias and economic inequities in the U.S. justice system.

Just Mercy

A Story of Justice and Redemption

by Bryan Stevenson

Hardcover, 336 pages | purchase

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"[It] just reinforced what I had known all along, which is that we have a criminal justice system that treats you better if you're rich and guilty than if you're poor and innocent," Stevenson tells Fresh Air's Terry Gross. " ... The other thing that that incident did for me was just remind me that we have this attitude about people that is sometimes racially shaped — and you can't escape that simply because you go to college and get good grades, or even go to law school and get a law degree."

Stevenson is a Harvard Law School graduate and has argued six cases before the Supreme Court. He won a ruling holding that it is unconstitutional to sentence children to life without parole if they are 17 or younger and have not committed murder.

His new memoir Just Mercy describes his early days growing up in a poor and racially segregated settlement in Delaware — and how he came to be a lawyer who represents those who have been abandoned. His clients are people on death row — abused and neglected children who were prosecuted as adults and placed in adult prisons where they were beaten and sexually abused, and mentally disabled people whose illnesses helped land them in prison where their special needs were unmet.

In one of his most famous cases, Stevenson helped exonerate a man on death row. Walter McMillian was convicted for killing 18-year-old Ronda Morrison, who was found under a clothing rack at a dry cleaners in Monroeville, Ala., in 1986. Three witnesses testified against McMillian, while six witnesses, who were black, testified that he was at a church fish fry at the time of the crime. McMillian was found guilty and held on death row for six years.

Stevenson decided to take on the case to defend McMillian, but a judge tried to talk him out of it.

"I think everyone knew that the evidence against Mr. [Walter] McMillian was pretty contrived," Stevenson says. " ... The police couldn't solve the crime and there was so much pressure on the police and the prosecutor on the system of justice to make an arrest that they just felt like they had to get somebody convicted. ...

"It was a pretty clear situation where everyone just wanted to forget about this man, let him get executed so everybody could move on. [There was] a lot of passion, a lot of anger in the community about [Morrison's] death, and I think there was great resistance to someone coming in and fighting for the condemned person who had been accused and convicted."

But Stevenson exonerated McMillian in 1993. McMillian was eventually freed, but not without scars of being on death row. He died last year.

"This is one of the few cases I've worked on where I got bomb threats and death threats because we were fighting to free this man who was so clearly innocent," Stevenson says. "It reveals this disconnect that I'm so concerned about when I think about our criminal justice system."

i i

Bryan Stevenson is the founder and executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative, based in Alabama, and he's a professor at NYU Law School. Nina Subin/Courtesy of Random House hide caption

itoggle caption Nina Subin/Courtesy of Random House

Bryan Stevenson is the founder and executive director of the Equal Justice Initiative, based in Alabama, and he's a professor at NYU Law School.

Nina Subin/Courtesy of Random House

Interview Highlights

On how the police got witnesses to testify falsely in the McMillian case

They did coerce the witnesses to testify falsely against him, and for some bizarre reason tape recorded some of these sessions.

So you hear this tape where the witness is saying, "You want me to frame an innocent man for murder? I don't feel right about that."

The police officer is saying, "Well, if you don't do it, we're going to put you on death row, too."

They actually did put the testifying witness on death row for a period of time until he agreed to testify against Mr. McMillian. Other witnesses were given money in exchange for their false testimony.

But it was challenging because even when we presented all of that evidence — and we presented Mr. McMillian's strong alibi, the first couple of judges said, "No, we're not going to grant relief."

It took us six years to get a court to ultimately overturn the conviction. I think it speaks to this resistance we have in this country to confronting our errors, to confronting our mistakes.

On the case taking place where To Kill a Mockingbird is set

One of the really bizarre parts of this whole case for me was this whole episode took place in Monroeville, Ala., where Harper Lee grew up and wrote To Kill a Mockingbird. If you go to Monroeville, you'll see a community that's completely enchanted by that story. ... They have all of this To Kill a Mockingbird memorabilia. The leading citizens enact a play about the book. You can't go anywhere without encountering some aspect of that story made real in that community.

And yet, when we were trying to get the community to do something about an innocent African-American man wrongly convicted, there was this indifference and in some quarters — hostility.

On the lasting effects of wrongful convictions and Mr. McMillian's dementia

One of the things that pains me is we have so tragically underestimated the trauma, the hardship we create in this country when we treat people unfairly, when we incarcerate them unfairly, when we condemn them unfairly.

You can't threaten to kill someone every day year after year and not harm them, not traumatize them, not break them in ways that [are] really profound. Yet, when innocent people are released, we just act like they should be grateful that they didn't get executed and we don't compensate them many times, we don't help them, we question them, we still have doubts about them.

“ You can't segregate and humiliate people decade after decade without creating long-lasting injuries.

- Bryan Stevenson, human rights lawyer

I saw that create this early onset dementia [in McMillian] that many of the doctors believed was trauma-induced, was a function of his experience of being nearly killed — and he witnessed eight executions when he was on Death Row. ...

One of the things I just wanted to people to understand is we can't continue to have a system of justice defined by error and unfairness and tolerate racial bias and bias against the poor and not confront what we are doing to individuals and to families and to communities and to neighborhoods. Walter [McMillian] is in some ways a microcosm of that reality. He's representative of what we've done to thousands of people.

On representing people on death row and witnessing executions

One of the first cases I ever dealt with where the man was executed was a surreal case where ... I drove down to be with this man before his scheduled execution. ... They shave the hair off the person's body before they put them in the electric chair and we're standing there, [having a] very emotional conversation, holding hands, praying, talking.

I remember him staying to me, "Bryan, this has been such a strange day. When I woke up this morning the guards came to me and said, 'What do you want for breakfast?' And at midday, 'What do you want for lunch?' In the evening they said, 'What do you want for dinner?'" All day long he said they kept saying, "What can we do to help you? Can we get you stamps to mail your last letters? Can we get you water? Can we get you a phone to call your friends and family?" I'll never forget that man saying ... "More people have said, 'What can I do to help you?' in the last 14 hours of my life than ever did in the first 19 years of my life."

I remember standing there, holding his hands, thinking, "Where were they when you were 3 years old being abused? Where were they when you were seven and being sexually assaulted? Where were they when you were a teenager and you were homeless and struggling with drug addiction? Where were they when you came back from war struggling with post-traumatic stress disorder?" And with those kinds of questions resonating in my mind, this man was pulled away and executed.

It's a really surreal and I think deeply destructive act to kill a person who is not a threat to other people. But that's our system and that's one of the reasons why getting people closer to that system is one of my new priorities — and one of the reasons why I wanted to write this book.

On changing the conversation about race

Our newest project at the Equal Justice Initiative is really trying to change the conversation about race in this country. We've done a very poor job at really reflecting on our legacy of racial inequality. ...You see it in the South, but it's everywhere.

And we want to talk more about slavery and we want to talk more about this era between Reconstruction and World War II, which I call "An Era of Racial Terrorism" — of racial terror and violence that shaped attitudes. I want to talk more about the civil rights era, not through the lens of celebration. We're too celebratory of civil rights these days. We have these 50th anniversaries and everyone is happy and everybody is celebrating. Nobody is talking about the hardship.

It's almost as if the civil rights movement was this three-day event: on day one Rosa Parks didn't give up her seat on the bus. On day two Dr. King led a march on Washington. And on the third day, we signed all of these laws. And if you think about that history in that way, you minimize the trauma, the damage, the divides that were created. You can't segregate and humiliate people decade after decade without creating long-lasting injuries. ...

Our newest project is really trying to introduce some concept of what transitional justice requires: Some commitment to truth and reconciliation.

On justice in the 21st century

The new statistic from the Justice [Department] is really disheartening: The Justice Department is now reporting that one in three black male babies born in the 21st century is expected to go to jail or prison. The statistic for Latino boys is one in six. That statistic was not true in the 20th century. It was not true in the 19th century. It didn't become true until the 21st century. That means we have enormous work to do to improve our commitment to society that is not haunted and undermined and corrupted by our legacy of racial inequality.

The same is true for poverty. We've got a bigger population of poor people in this country than we've had in a generation and we've got to take on the challenges of poverty. ... For me, that means taking it on in a different way. I'm not persuaded that the opposite of poverty is wealth — I've come to believe ... that the opposite of poverty is justice.

Read an excerpt of Just Mercy

death row

civil rights

Over the last few decades, assemblies of Roman Catholic bishops meeting in Rome, known as synods, have been predictable events that have always upheld the viewpoints of the reigning pope.

But with the widely popular Pope Francis, nothing is predictable.

A two-week-long synod on family issues that wound up this weekend was tumultuous and the results showed a church deeply divided over how to deal with gays and with divorced and remarried Catholics.

Rarely has a synod attracted such attention. The Vatican press room was packed, as many activists also showed up to push their agendas.

Briefing reporters on the atmosphere in the closed-door meetings, Cardinal Luis Antonio Tagle of the Philippines said some of the synod fathers said they felt inspired by the spirit of the Second Vatican Council of half a century ago, which changed the way the Church sees itself in the contemporary world, "a church that is not self-absorbed but a church that knows how to exist as a missionary church."

A Sign Of Divisions

But it was the draft report issued one week ago that generated worldwide interest with its stunningly conciliatory language about same-sex unions and its suggestion that the communion ban for divorced and civilly remarried Catholics could be lifted.

Like many reporters, Michael Voris of the online Churchmilitant.tv was stunned by the welcoming tone and language.

"Is the synod proposing that there is something innate in the homosexual orientation that transcends and uplifts the Catholic Church?" he asked.

The reply came from the author of the section on gays, Italian Archbishop Bruno Forte, who said, "we must respect the dignity of every person and the fact (of being) homosexual doesn't mean this dignity must be not recognized and promoted."

But the following day the conservative backlash was intense.

South African Cardinal Wilfred Napier was angry the draft report had been made public.

"That is one of the reasons why there has been such an upset among synod fathers is that we are now working from a position that is virtually irredeemable," the Cardinal said. "The message has gone out. This is what the synod is saying, this is what the Catholic Church is saying and it's not what we are saying at all and whatever we say here after is going to be as if we are doing some damage control."

American Cardinal Raymond Burke charged that the synod was designed to weaken church teaching and that the pope had done much harm by not stating openly where he stands on these issues.

A 'Robust' Debate

After days of discussion, the final report issued Saturday substantially watered down the welcoming overtures toward gays and the divorced and remarried.

And, in a sign of deep division, three paragraphs on these hot button issues did not win a two-thirds majority, and so don't carry the weight of formal approval.

Reporters were again surprised when, in the name of transparency, the pope ordered the final report be made public immediately, as well as the voting tally.

John Allen, Vatican analyst for The Boston Globe, said this is the "Francis effect" in action.

"He said at the beginning of the synod he wanted a robust and open debate. That is certainly what he got," says Allen. "The final document reflects a very honest view of a church that is divided on these questions. That in itself is a step forward for the kind of honesty and transparency that Francis has been calling for."

Father Thomas Reese, senior analyst for the National Catholic Reporter, was impressed by the pope's closing speech and tough words for both those he considers the dogmatics and those who sees as the reformers.

"He really listened so well that he was able to pick up the dynamics of it, the themes, the temptations, of the conservatives toward rigidity, the temptation of the liberals towards being a little too loosey-goosey," he says. "He's trying to find the mean. I mean what they all want to be is a loving mother but also a clear teacher. Well, every parent knows that's difficult".

The final report will now be debated by clergy and lay Catholics across the world in preparation for another synod on the family a year from now. Only after that, will Pope Francis decide if and what changes will be made.

As the Philippines' Cardinal Tagle put it, "so the drama continues."

Pope Francis

Moffie Kanneh is angry at the United States. When I meet the Liberian lawyer, he asks immediately where I am from. "Take this back to Washington," he says. "I am extremely furious."

In the days after the death of Thomas Eric Duncan — the Liberian man diagnosed with Ebola in Dallas last month — Kanneh was one of many Liberians who told me that case changed the way they see the United States. Many noted how different Duncan's experience in the U.S. healthcare system seemed from white patients who contracted Ebola, like Dr. Kent Brantly, who recovered from the disease last month, NBC cameraman Ashoka Mukpo, who is making progress in his treatment there, and most recently two nurses who treated Duncan, both of whom are doing well.

Goats and Soda

Fond Memories Of Ebola Victim Eric Duncan, Anger Over His Death

Goats and Soda

Ebola Evacuees: Who Are They, Where'd They Go, How'd They Fare?

Sitting outside a small caf in Monrovia, Kanneh explains that he feels U.S. attitudes toward Liberians are tinged with both racism and xenophobia. "The combination of African, black..." he shakes his head. "I still think if Eric was an American they would have given him preferential treatment."

Some people also see Duncan's case as evidence that the U.S. doesn't want West Africans to seek treatment in the United States. "It was a racist approach in a larger sense," explains Franklin Wesseh, who describes himself to me as an opposition party member and writer. He's referring to the slow response by the Dallas hospital that initially sent Duncan home despite a fever and weakness.

"I personally think [Duncan] could have been saved," he says, sipping coffee after church on a Sunday afternoon. "He was given less attention. It was a way of probably discouraging Liberians who contracted the disease and want to go there."

But while many Liberians I spoke to are frustrated by what they see as anti-African prejudice, some within the government urge less focus on race and more on fighting the epidemic.

"When we play the race card there will be problems," says Nathaniel Toe, the superintendent for Maryland County, Liberia. His county, in the southeastern part of the country, doesn't have an Ebola treatment center yet, and Toe is concerned that the U.S. could react to charges of racism by slowing down delivery of aid. One of the 18 U.S.-built treatment centers is planned for Maryland county.

"We are being distracted," he says. The real issue, he thinks, is not racism or American attitudes toward Liberia. It is access to healthcare. "I would like to see the intervention reach all of Liberia, [with] the same quality of service as in Atlanta, in Dallas."

"Take that to Washington," he says. "We need better hospitals."

Another government official I meet, Mitchell Jones of the Liberian Ministry of Commerce and Industry, echoes Toe's sentiments. "This is not a time for politics," he says.

Jones speaks poetically about unity and democracy. "We Liberians must be as one people," he tells me. As he talks, he slides away from me on the bench we share.

"I'm sorry," he says. "Now we are all afraid of touching, of the brushing of skin even."

He equates the Ebola epidemic in Liberia to the 9/11 attacks in the US. "This is the time that we all hold together. Like when Bin Laden attacked the United States, it was a time for every American to hold together to fight their common enemy. Liberians today, our common enemy is Ebola."

Despite such calls for unity, the Liberians I met were frustrated and angry at the U.S. And those emotions are coloring the way they view U.S. aid. Even after Thomas Eric Duncan's story fades from the headlines, Wesseh says he will think of it when the U.S. says it is committed to helping Liberia through the crisis.

That a Liberian citizen died of Ebola when American citizens have survived makes him feel that America may not be truly committed to helping the Liberian people.

"America protects its interests," he says. "Yes they are here today, making sure Ebola can be kicked out of Liberia, but only for their [business] transactions. I personally am disappointed."

Back in the U.S. this week, Duncan's nephew echoed some of the comments I heard in Monrovia. In an essay written for the Dallas Morning News, Josephus Weeks stated that his uncle did not have to die and that his treatment had been substandard.

Weeks brought up the issue of race in his opening paragraph: "He told the nurse he had recently been in Liberia. But he was a man of color with no health insurance and no means to pay for treatment, so within hours he was released with some antibiotics and Tylenol."

He went on to say that "Thomas Eric Duncan was a victim of a broken system. Some speculate that this was a failure of the internal communications systems. Others have speculated that antibiotics and Tylenol are the standard protocol for a patient without insurance. ... Their error set the wheels in motion for my uncle's death and additional Ebola cases, and their ignorance, incompetence or indecency has created a national security threat for our country."

Weeks captures what everyone I spoke to in Monrovia agreed with: that Duncan had not been treated with dignity and that his death was a tragedy.

Thomas Eric Duncan

Dallas

ebola

Liberia

racism

Hong Kong's leader is blaming "external forces" for helping stoke student-led pro-democracy protests that have brought parts of the Chinese territory to a halt in recent weeks.

Leung Chun-ying's statement in a televised interview on Sunday marked the first time he blamed foreign involvement for the unrest, something that Beijing has said repeatedly during the three weeks of demonstrations, according to The Associated Press.

The AP writes: "When asked on the Newsline program about a Chinese official's comments on outside involvement, Leung said, 'There is obviously participation by people, organizations from outside of Hong Kong.' Leung added that the foreign actors came from 'different countries in different parts of the world,' but didn't specify which countries."

NPR's Frank Langfitt, reporting from Hong Kong, says that many Hong Kongers view Leung, who was not democratically elected, as a puppet of Beijing. His echoing of China's line on the demonstrations is likely to reinforce that image.

Frank says after nights marked by violence and injury, the streets of Hong Kong have been peaceful, even as the protesters still control parts of three business districts. One of them, Mong Kok, has been the site of clashes between protesters and police.

The South China Morning Post says Hong Kong's High Court has ordered the demonstrators to leave Mong Kok in two cases brought against them by taxi drivers and a bus service that have suffered economic hardship as a result of the protest camps blocking main thoroughfares in the congested district.

The U.S. Consulate in the city has rejected the claim of foreign intervention, with spokesman Scott Robinson telling the SCMP that Hong Kongers' desire for universal suffrage was driving the demonstrations. He said any suggestion otherwise was designed to distract people from the real issue.

Hong Kong protests

State Department

China