A PLAY TO SEE

American jurisprudence tells us from day one that we are presumed innocent until proven guilty. But for the wrongly accused, that presumption is turned on its head. They remain guilty until proven innocent.

For people who are convicted of crimes they did not commit, the cards of the court system are stacked against them. Perhaps their race or sexual orientation puts them at risk within a racist, homophobic criminal justice system. Perhaps they just had the extreme misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Undoubtedly, they do not have the financial resources to hire any "dream team" of defense attorneys available to the more affluent.

Victims of prosecutorial misconduct, these people may face the ultimate miscarriage of justice - being put to death before anyone can bring to light their lack of culpability and overturn their conviction. Even if they are one of the lucky ones set free, they receive no restitution and, in most states, are not allowed to sue.

"The Exonerated" was written in 2000 by Jessica Blank and Erik Jensen, two actor playwrights who traveled across the United States and interviewed 60 people who'd been sentenced to die and had then had their convictions overturned. Their play was culled from six of those interviews and shaped into the interwoven monologues that form its backbone.

Under the direction of Broadway veteran Allen Fitzpatrick, New Everett Theatre is staging a powerful production of "The Exonerated" that continues its creators' mission to right this wrong.

One of the more harrowing stories belongs to Kerry Max Cook, played by Daniel E. Fling. Cook was convicted in 1978 of murdering a female acquaintance. Authorities pinned the crime on him because of what they termed his "homosexual perversion." Wrongly imprisoned in Texas for 22 years, he sat on death row from 1978 to 1997, and came within 11 days of execution before being exonerated when DNA evidence proved him innocent. "They said that would be the final nail in the coffin," Cook says in the play. "Instead, it finally took the nail out." Cook had been given a public defender who was paid $500. "And in Texas," he says, "you get what you pay for."

Another chilling account belongs to Sonia "Sunny" Jacobs, played by Kathrine L. Newman. Jacobs was convicted in 1977 of murdering two policemen and wrongly imprisoned in Florida for 16 years. Her husband, Jesse Tafero, was wrongly executed for that same crime in 1990, two years before his wife's conviction was overturned. Jacobs didn't get to see her children grow up, and her parents died in an accident en route to visit her in jail. Tafero's death by electrocution achieved notoriety when it was botched. Flames shot out of his head, and the executioners had to pull the switch three times to stop his breathing. In the play, Sunny addresses the hopelessness of her incarceration. "They take your clothes and give you a number. (You're) locked in a tomb. (It's) like being thrown to the bottom of the well."

Delbert Tibbs, portrayed by Clyde E. Grant Sr., was wrongly convicted in 1974 of rape and murder and imprisoned for three years. In the play, his voice is that of a poetic rapper who seems to spring from a Greek chorus. "It's not easy bein' a poet here," he says of his jail existence. On one side, he's fighting the judicial system, and on the other, he's fighting attacks within prison.

Other testimonies are offered by Gary Gauger (Michael Trepp), imprisoned in Illinois for three years after being wrongly convicted in 1993 of murdering his parents; David Keaton (Jeffery Brown), wrongly convicted in 1971 of murder and imprisoned in Florida for two years; and Robert Earl Hayes (Curtis Sims), wrongly convicted in 1991 of raping and murdering a co-worker, then imprisoned in Florida for six years. Hayes, a black man, was convicted by a jury made up of 11 whites and one black.

Asa Sholdez and Paul Benz are frighteningly convincing in their portrayals of Southern, white, racist law enforcement officers. The production incorporates black and white photos of cell blocks projected behind the chairs actors sit on until it's their turn to speak. Also effective are such sound effects as steel bars clanging shut or the high voltage buzz of an electric chair. "The Exonerated" allows us all to feel the nightmare of trying to defend yourself against allegations of a crime you didn't commit. For the disenfranchised among us, that social injustice becomes a nightmare from which they may not awake.

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