Dec. 24, 2012

“Why prosecutors sometimes fight post-conviction evidence so adamantly depends on each case. Some legitimately believe the new evidence is not exonerating.

“But legal scholars looking at the issue suggest that prosecutors’ concerns about their political future and a culture that values winning over justice also come into play. ‘They are attached to their convictions,’ (says Brandon Garrett, a law professor at the University of Virginia), ‘and they don’t want to see their work called into question.’ ”

– From “The Prosecution’s Case Against DNA” in the New York Times Sunday Magazine (Nov. 25, 2011)

“Attached to their convictions,” indeed. Nancy Lamb was so attached that in 1996, after Bob Kelly’s 99-count conviction was overturned, she rummaged around the office and turned up yet another molestation claim – this one from two years before the Little Rascals arrests.

Gerald Beaver, Kelly’s attorney, pointed out that the law requires any report of sexual abuse to be investigated immediately and called police investigator Brenda Toppin, who testified that she had told Lamb about the claim in 1992. Lamb denied any recollection of Toppin’s comment.

“All of this ‘We care about the children’ kind of went down the drain after the conviction,” Beaver said. “It was only when (Kelly) successfully appealed and was no longer pulling 12 consecutive life sentences that the state felt compelled to go out and find this witness.”

As usual, however, time proved no object for prosecutors dedicated to making life miserable for Little Rascals defendants. It would be 1999 before they dropped the final charge against Bob Kelly.

March 1, 2021

I was surprised recently to notice a Facebook message from an elementary school teacher in Greenville, N.C.

Buddy Hyatt had grown up in Edenton and wanted to talk about the Little Rascals Day Care case. “It ripped apart many families and almost destroyed the town,” he wrote. “In 1989, when the accusations started, I was in first grade. But earlier I had attended Little Rascals. My parents had me and my younger brother checked over by an unbiased child psychiatrist in Greenville. After several sessions he reported that we had no indications of physical or sexual abuse.”

Buddy had multiple other windows on the case. ‘”My grandfather, Pete Manning, was editor and publisher of the Chowan Herald, and my dad was associate pastor and minister of music at Edenton Baptist.

“The Twiddys, the Kellys and Nancy Smith were all members of our church, as was [initial accuser] Jane Mabry Williams. This split the church right down the middle. Because the pastor and staff wouldn’t take sides, quite a few people got mad as fire. A good handful left. Some (especially those against the Kellys) spoke harshly and rudely to both my dad and grandmother.

“I feel most sorry for Bob and Betsy’s daughter, Laura. We had been in the same kindergarten class when the accusations started. My mom carpooled us. We did everything we could to be kind and remain friends with Laura and her family. I cannot imagine the pain and heartbreak they experienced.

“Lew, I know that’s a lot of information. Forgive me. I am happy to talk any time about the case or Little Rascals. The accusations and trial were a travesty and left so many people hurt and broken. No matter how much exoneration is given, the damage is already done.”

A few days passed before I heard from Buddy again: “Forgive me for being slow to respond. I happened to catch Covid, so the past week has been quite a struggle. Once I get through this (hopefully I’m on the tail end of it), we can plan to talk….”

Two weeks later Buddy Hyatt was dead. We never talked. I’m grateful for his big-hearted recollections and for his resolve to say more. RIP, Buddy.

Feb. 20, 2013

“Don’t focus on the question, focus on the answer.”

– District Attorney H. P. Williams, urging jurors to ignore the leading questions that therapists asked child-witnesses to elicit accusations against Bob Kelly

“Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.”

– The Wizard of Oz

April 26, 2014

“Given the near certainty of Junior’s innocence (his first jury could not reach a verdict), given the fact that he has already served 26 years in prison with only a single infraction (committed in his third week in prison), given the fact that many others similarly situated have been freed by the courts, Junior is a worthy candidate for a commutation of sentence.”

– Letter from Mark Montgomery, Andrew Junior Chandler’s appellate attorney, to Gov. Bev Perdue (Dec. 7, 2012)

“This letter is to inform you that your request for a commutation of sentence on behalf of Mr. Chandler has been reviewed and denied.

“If he would like to reapply, he may do so three years from the date of this letter.”

– Letter to Montgomery from Pat Hansen, Governor’s Clemency Office (March 25, 2014

So ends the latest of Andrew Junior Chandler’s repeated attempts to find a path out of Avery-Mitchell Correctional Institution, where he has spent the past 27 years for a crime neither he nor anyone else committed. He may in fact be the last still-imprisoned victim of the “satanic ritual abuse” day care panic.

“I don’t know what they have against me,” Junior told me by phone this week.  I don’t know either – I don’t even know who “they” are. But I can’t imagine that those prosecutors who so persuasively argued that “Junior would drive off his route to a park by a river, strip the children of their clothes, troop them down to the river, put them in a rowboat, commit various sexual acts, put them back on the bus and take them home” are eager to see the case dusted off and reexamined.