Sarah Burns’ new book about the Central Park Jogger case has the advantage of hindsight. We now know that the five boys, ages 14 to 16, who were prosecuted for beating and raping a young woman who was jogging in Central Park on an April night in 1989 are almost undoubtedly not guilty of that crime.
This does not mean that they are innocent. They may not have committed that crime but they were among a pack of 30 to 40 young men who rampaged in the park that night, attacking joggers and bicyclist and putting two men in the hospital. They explained it as “just having fun.”
The police immediately focused on a few of the boys who were already in police custody for the “wilding” when the jogger was found and after more than 24 hours of questioning in some cases, four of the boys wrote and signed and then videotaped confessions to having beaten and raped the jogger. The fifth made a confession but did not sign it. All had their parents or other family representatives with them when they made the videos. It looked like the police had their culprits.
The evidence was conflicting, with the statements describing things that did not happen and failing to describe things that did. But in the face of signed and videotaped confessions the boys were convicted. Some years later, just after the statute of limitations on rape had expired, another man, Matias Reyes, confessed to the crime and said he did it alone. Testing showed his DNA on the jogger’s clothing; no DNA from the convicted boys had been found.
All of this was described exceptionally well in the book, Unequal Verdicts, by Timothy Sullivan, which was written before the new evidence cleared the boys. That book centered on the judicial process, concentrating on the judge, lawyers, and jury and mentions all of the errors of time and place and other basic discrepancies of the attack that were obvious in the boys’ confessions.
Burns’ new book, secure in the knowledge that the courts have vacated the boys’ conviction chose to focus on the boys themselves – now men – and their families. She clearly believes that there was no real case against them, given all the errors in their stories, and she attributes their conviction in large part to racism.
There is a case to be made that racism was involved in the media frenzy that surrounded the case. As Burns points out, the rape of a black woman would have been extremely unlikely to have captured the country’s imagination the way the jogger’s attack did. She considers the language to describe the rapist racist in nature: beasts, barbarians, wolfpack, wilding. “The boys – and their alleged actions – were variously called ‘bestial,’ ‘savage,’ ‘brutal,’ ‘bloodthirsty,’ ‘evil,’ and ‘mutant.’ Several columnists and people writing letters to the editor emphasized that they were worse than animals.” The terms are not necessarily racist but knowing the purported attackers were black could perhaps make them seem so.
She does not make much of the reverse racism of the black “Supporters” who were in the court room every day of the trials and who yelled filthy language and death threats at the prosecutors, accused the jogger of being in the park looking for sex with a black man, and contended (with no evidence) that her boyfriend was responsible. Al Sharpton was deeply involved in the protest. He brought with him Tawana Brawley, a black woman who had falsely accused some white men of raping her, and compared her to the jogger. With C Vernon Maddox and Alton Maddox, the other major black “leaders” who were involved in the Brawley hoax, Sharpton made the most of the case for the sake of the publicity, but he did nothing to see that the boys had competent defense lawyers. Even knowing as we now do that the boys were not guilty of the rape, the behavior of the “Supporters” was inexcusable. They did the boys no good and probably did them harm.
Sarah Burns is working on a documentary based on this book with her father, Ken Burns.
2011 No 98 Coming soon: I Am the Central Park Jogger