G
loria Killian will never be named one of America’s top attorneys. Still, she is an excellent legal counselor. Her most famous case involved Brenda Aris. A chronically abused wife, Aris was savagely beaten by her husband, who then passed out. Fearing for her life when he awoke, Aris shot him to death. The mother of three was convicted of second degree murder and given a sentence of 15 years to life.
Killian petitioned then California Governor Pete Wilson for clemency on Aris’ behalf, which to their surprise he granted. Later, she wrote an article about the case in the prestigious University of Southern California Law Review.
Her victory was remarkable for several reasons. First, it was only the second time a battered woman had been granted clemency in California. Second, Killian wasn’t an attorney but a former law student. Third, and perhaps most noteworthy, she was a prisoner serving a 32-year sentence on false charges in the California Institute for Women (CIW) in Frontera.
“So many people are wrongly convicted of crimes they didn’t commit,” Killian said. “Unfortunately, it’s all too common.”
A Waking Nightmare
Killian’s ordeal, which began in 1981, combines not one but two Kafkaesque nightmares. Like Joseph K in The Trial, she found herself arrested for a crime she knew nothing about, much less committed. And like Gregor Samsa in The Metamorphosis, she awoke to find herself, not a grotesque beetle, but a reviled criminal, rearrested in June 1983 and charged for masterminding a murder and other crimes.
Here are the facts of the case. On December 9, 1981, Stephen DeSantis entered the Sacramento home of Ed and Grace Davies. After tying up the elderly couple, he and his cousin, Gary Masse, robbed six suitcases of silver, but not before shooting and killing Mr. Davies, a coin dealer. Mrs. Davies was also shot but survived.
Days later an anonymous tipster told police DeSantis and Masse committed the crime. Police spoke to Masse’s wife Joanne who said a woman “named Gloria had planned the robbery.” Masse soon surrendered to police, and Killian, in her 30s with no criminal record, was arrested. She acknowledged knowing a friend of Masse’s but not Masse himself. After a preliminary hearing, charges were dropped and she was released.
In May 1983 Masse, a repeat felon, was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. Soon after, he spoke to authorities about brokering a deal to get a reduced sentence. “Gary Masse was looking for a way out, so he latched onto me,” Killian said. “And when you have a crooked DA, who will do anything to get a conviction, that’s it. You’re done!”
Confident of a deal, Masse fingered DeSantis and Killian as his accomplices. In 1986 Killian was convicted of first-degree felony murder in Sacramento. At her trial Masse swore under oath that Killian was the “mastermind” behind the robbery, that she called him demanding a share of the robbery proceeds, that she was with him on an earlier, botched attempt to enter the Davies’ residence, and that he didn’t have a deal with the prosecutor for his testimony.
In a separate trial DeSantis was convicted and sent to death row in San Quentin where he died of natural causes. At his trial DeSantis testified that Killian was not involved in the crime in any way and that he never met or heard of her. He also testified at his trial that Masse had told him that his wife Joanne helped him on the first attempt to break into the Davies’ residence, and was a potential suspect in the second break-in. This is not a small or unimportant detail because in the conspiracy charge against Killian it is alleged that she tried to break into the Davies home sometime before the December 9th robbery.
Unfortunately, DeSantis’ testimony was not introduced in Killian’s trial. Meanwhile, Masse received a reduced sentence of 25 years to life, presumably for his “cooperation.”
Finding a Purpose
Settling into prison life, Killian was assigned to the prison law library. Over the next 14 years she provided assistance to hundreds of inmates with legal matters, ranging from parole hearings to appeals. “It’s the only way I could come up with a purpose for what had happened to me,” Killian said. “I thought of myself as a full-service law firm, just with really weird clients who never paid. It saved my sanity.”
Unexpectedly, prison provided Killian with friendships and a sense of family. “The people in there aren’t any different than you or me,” she said. “Some have had horrendous experiences we haven’t had, and some haven’t. They’re still your mothers, your daughters, your sisters, your aunts, and your cousins. They’re not bad people.”
Killian said there are approximately 11,000 women in California prison today and close to 80 percent are imprisoned for non-violent offenses, the majority for drug abuse.
Until prison, Killian had never met a battered woman. “The first one I met I think I actually said, ‘What? You couldn’t find a good divorce lawyer?,’” Killian said. “I knew nothing about domestic violence or abuse. I didn’t know the most dangerous time for a battered woman is when she leaves [her husband], and the lucky few wind up getting called ‘convicts.’”
Still, despite her tireless work on behalf of inmates, even helping to create a law project at CIW, Killian didn’t dwell much on her own case. An appellate court had upheld her conviction, and without new evidence, there were no grounds for another appeal. Moreover, she had no money to hire an attorney to pursue new evidence and another appeal. Resigned to her fate, Killian hunkered down for the long haul.
But in 1992 she got lucky, real lucky. An elderly volunteer at CIW, Joyce Ride, the mother of NASA’s first female astronaut, Sally Ride, became convinced of Killian’s innocence and befriended her. Ride spent $100,000 of her own money to hire William J. Genego, an attorney specializing in post-conviction appeals.
Genego suspected Masse made a deal with the prosecution for leniency but he couldn’t prove it. Then, one day, proof arrived in the mail from the former attorneys of Stephen DeSantis.
Years earlier, DeSantis’ attorneys, who were contesting his death sentence, discovered letters Masse sent to the prosecutor, shortly after Killian’s trial, saying he “lied his ass off on the stand” to get Killian convicted. The prosecutor should have turned over these letters to Killian’s attorneys, but never did.
In 2000 at a Sacramento hearing before Federal Magistrate Judge Gregory Hollows, Genego argued that Masse perjured himself during Killian’s trial. Incredibly, despite Masse’s admissions at the hearing that he lied about Killian being the robbery’s “mastermind” and that he lied about her asking for “her share” of the robbery’s proceeds, Hollows recommended to U.S. District Judge Garland Burrell that he uphold her conviction.
He reasoned that the perjuries were irrelevant because they didn’t touch on Killian’s alleged involvement in prior discussions with Masse. Burrell followed the recommendation.
Finally a Reprieve
Genego would not give up. He and his law clerk Lauren Eskenazi dug up a sealed letter from the prosecutor written in April 1985 to Masse’s sentencing judge. It expressed support of a reduced sentence for Masse due to “his cooperation.” Discovery of this letter gave Genego grounds for another appeal.
On March 13, 2002 the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals in a 3-0 decision reversed Killian’s conviction and ordered her released. She has served close to 18 years in prison. She is one of 200 exonerations in California since 1990.
Today, Killian is the founder and executive director of the Action Committee for Women in Prison, an organization which advocates for the humane and compassionate treatment of incarcerated women.
Ironically, Killian said the major turning point in her life was not when she wound up behind bars but when she was finally released. “When I was released, I could have walked away, but I long since made up my mind I would never do that,” she said. “I could never walk away from the people I left behind.”
And despite her 18 years in prison, she said she has no regrets. “It was probably my mission in life,” she said. “No, I would not change it.”
Killian said she would like to be remembered “As the woman who changed the entire prison system.” How? For starters, Killian believes all elderly and dying prisoners should be released to live out their last days in peace, surrounded by family and friends. Second, prisons should be reserved for the few who truly are a danger to society, excluding non-violent drug offenders. Third, non-violent drug offenders should be required to attend and pass drug treatment in their community. Fourth, prisons should provide educational and job-training programs.
“If you can’t read and you can’t write, and you have tats on your neck and no teeth, you’re not going to work in my office no matter how liberal or compassionate I am,” Killian said. “People have to hire people who can help, and as long as we keep shoving people into prisons without any education, without any family support services, and without any opportunity to make a living, they’re going to continue doing the same thing.”
Copyright © 2009 by Vince Reardon
1 Comment
July 7, 2009 at 6:39 pm
Gloria Killian should be on Sen. Webb’s Criminal Justice Reform Committee. Please contact your Congressmen/women to let them know.
Please sign Online Petition to nominate Gloria.
http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/gloria-killian-for-natl-criminal-justice-commission