Looking out my cell window, I can see trees. Not just to tops of trees, but the whole tree–all the way to the bottom where it is strongly rooted to the ground. Although I am looking through rows of chain-linked fence and razor wire, I can still see the whole tree. For over thirty years while I fought to prove my innocence, I was held at state prisons that were surrounded with ominous walls that everyday reminded me of my wrongful conviction. I often looked over the top of those walls and could see the tops of the trees. Green and full of life in the summer, bare and dormant sometimes dusted with snow in the winter. Faced with that looming wall that separated me from my family and freedom, I remember finding a little comfort when thinking to myself, “at least I can still see the tops of the trees.”

This past May, after so many seasons, so many years, so many losses, and so many disappointments, my conviction was overturned. We overcame the most difficult hurdle in our struggle to prove my innocence. A judge agreed with us that my trial was not fair that witnesses lied and that new science cast serious doubt about my guilt. We won! Without celebration or joyful goodbyes, I was abruptly taken from one prison and brought to another. I was not reunited with my family. There were no joyful celebrations or loving embraces with family and loved ones. Only more chains. More barbed wire. Another prison cell. More sadness and pain. Why doesn’t it feel like my conviction was overturned?

Why doesn’t it feel like I finally proved my innocence? Why am I still caged and kept from my family? Why are my family still forced to suffer? I don’t understand.

But at least I can see the trees. ODC?