最新杏吧原创

ST. LOUIS 鈥� Thomas Williams begins each morning with a pep talk.

鈥淵ou鈥檝e got to do this,鈥� he tells himself. 鈥淭.J. has to go to school. Stop being lazy. Get up.鈥�

He gathers his strength, uses his hands to lift his legs to the side of the bed, hoists himself into his wheelchair and heads down the hall to get his son to the bus stop.

Williams, 33, was shot and paralyzed from the waist down on May 30, 2020, while driving home from downtown 最新杏吧原创. A man in another car pulled up alongside him and opened fire, injuring Williams and killing Williams鈥� passenger, Marcia Brown.

At first, the criminal justice system responded as expected. Police put out a notice on the shooting and arrested a man soon after. Prosecutors charged the man with murder, assault and gun crimes.

But nearly three years later, justice remains elusive. A trial was scheduled for last summer, but days before it was set to begin, prosecutors dismissed and refiled the charges. Evidence wasn鈥檛 ready, they said.

It鈥檚 one of thousands of cases that have been delayed, refiled, continued or dismissed altogether during Circuit Attorney Kimberly M. Gardner鈥檚 six-year tenure. In that time, prosecutors dropped more than 9,000 criminal cases, many of which were on the eve of trial. Judges dismissed an additional 2,700 cases, sometimes because of failure to prosecute, evidence violations or violations of defendants鈥� rights to a speedy trial, according to a lawsuit earlier this year filed by Missouri鈥檚 attorney general.

On top of the dismissals, Gardner鈥檚 office went from having roughly 60 prosecutors when she began to about 20 recently. Families watched as their cases shuffled from prosecutor to prosecutor. Victims called the office but rarely, if ever, received case updates. Families monitored online court records on their own, and they often took off work for hearings and trials that didn鈥檛 wind up happening.

As a result, cases have dragged on for years. Crime victims and their families are left grasping for answers, with a mix of anger and frustration.

In one recent case, a family stood outside the courthouse and told reporters they were frustrated after no one from Gardner鈥檚 office showed up to a scheduled trial. Another let out a chorus of groans in the courtroom when they heard yet another prosecutor had quit the office, leaving their case in limbo. Still another was notified for the first time by the Post-Dispatch that a murder conviction in their loved one鈥檚 death had been thrown out on appeal.

For Williams, shot almost three years ago, it鈥檚 too hard to dwell upon his shooter鈥檚 court case while he鈥檚 working on his recovery.

鈥淚 don鈥檛 even think about it,鈥� he said. 鈥淚 just know that when they call me, I am going to do my job and give my testimony.鈥�

But for Marcia Brown鈥檚 mother, Yulonda Brown, the case is never far from her mind. She wants justice for her daughter, and she says the system is keeping victims in a fog.

鈥淚t鈥檚 been hard,鈥� she said. 鈥淚t鈥檚 been a mess.鈥�

Gardner鈥檚 office said in a statement that helping victims has been one of her 鈥渢op priorities,鈥� touting the 鈥渄edicated and hardworking victim services team鈥� that 鈥渨orks cooperatively with attorneys to keep victims updated.鈥�

Last week, after months of pressure, Gardner announced that she would resign June 1. But some crime victims and their families question whether their cases will ever be resolved.

鈥楳y world just turned upside down鈥�

For Johnetta Doss, the frustration has been building for three years.

Doss鈥� daughter, 18-year-old Carieal Doss, died on April 17, 2020, after agreeing to meet a fellow teen in a parking lot at 2838 Franklin Avenue.

Doss said Carieal left her grandmother鈥檚 house, where she was staying that night, and left her game console running. It looked like she was going to come right back.

Instead, police found Carieal shot in the back of the head in the city鈥檚 Jeff-Vander-Lou neighborhood.

鈥淢y world just turned upside down,鈥� Doss said.

Doss turned to alcohol and cigarettes to cope. Once healthy enough that she joined the police academy, she had a heart attack three months after Carieal鈥檚 death. She was twice committed to a mental health facility.

Doss kept in touch with detectives, even digging through Facebook messages she thought might be relevant and sending them in as evidence. She waited and waited for someone to be arrested.

Then, a 19-year-old was charged with Carieal鈥檚 murder. She didn鈥檛 hear from prosecutors, she said, but she figured they would do their jobs.

When she saw hearings scheduled online, she made her way downtown to the courthouse to see justice be served.

鈥淚 couldn鈥檛 leave other people to do my job,鈥� she said. 鈥淭hat鈥檚 all I know how to do, is take care of her.鈥�

But sometimes, nothing would happen. Family members who took off work to accompany Doss to court did so for nothing. The hearing would be moved to another day.

Doss said she would sit in the courthouse鈥檚 wooden pews, seething with anger. She spoke with a victim advocate at one point, but at other times attorneys would walk past her.

鈥淪itting in that courtroom and listening to them, and watching (the accused shooter), it just brought back pure hate,鈥� she said.

Doss鈥� case dragged on for a year, and a new prosecutor eventually took over. She started giving Doss updates.

One day, when Doss was sitting at her kitchen table scrolling through her phone, a news report popped up.

The previous prosecutor on the case, saddled with a massive caseload, had failed to turn over key evidence, including a DNA report, Facebook messages and other information from police. The mistake was disastrous. The charges had been dismissed.

鈥淚 didn鈥檛 want to talk. I didn鈥檛 want to be around anybody,鈥� Doss said. 鈥淚 felt like this is a justice system. And justice needs to be served.鈥�

On a recent Friday evening, Doss dressed in a black velvet gown and worked the room at an event space in Florissant. She was holding a ball for victims of gun violence in honor of Carieal. It was like the prom her daughter was never able to attend, she said. A group of mothers who also lost their children surrounded a table, picking up framed photos of their children and an award for the work they鈥檝e done surviving grief and helping others.

Doss stood up and read a letter she wrote for Carieal: 鈥淚 know I can鈥檛 be with you now, you can鈥檛 be with me, but safe in my heart, you鈥檒l always be.鈥�

The crowd applauded.

鈥淭hat was hard, ya鈥檒l,鈥� she said, wiping away tears. 鈥淭hat was hard.鈥�

At Doss鈥� house in north 最新杏吧原创, a poster of Carieal welcomes visitors on her front porch. Her daughter鈥檚 smiling face appears in every room, plus a hallway leading up the stairs. A chair at the kitchen table is marked by a T-shirt with her picture.

Gardner鈥檚 resignation leaves an opening for a new chief prosecutor set to be appointed by Gov. Mike Parson. Experts and attorneys say it will take months, or even years, to rebuild the decimated office and catch up on the backlog of cases.

Doss said she desperately hopes someone will review her daughter鈥檚 case and refile charges. But in the meantime, she said, 鈥淚 feel helpless.鈥�

鈥淚鈥檓 in a situation where I have absolutely no control over what happens,鈥� she said. 鈥淚鈥檓 just, again, sitting and waiting, hoping and praying, asking God to move things in the way they鈥檙e supposed to be moved.鈥�

鈥業t broke me to pieces鈥�

Early on May 30, 2020, Williams and Marcia Brown had left a celebration in downtown 最新杏吧原创. They were trying to get back on Interstate 70 when Williams got turned around. He passed a gas station and noticed a vehicle pull up behind him.

Surveillance video from the gas station at North 13th Street showed Raymond House, 37, and others getting into a Jeep Grand Cherokee before the shooting, court records say. Videos showed the Jeep chasing Williams north onto Grand Avenue, where it pulled alongside him and a person opened fire.

Williams, who was in EMT training, knew immediately that he was paralyzed. He was shot three times. He looked over at Brown and knew her injuries were fatal.

An eerie calm came over him as he diagnosed himself to the paramedics. But he was also confused about why he鈥檇 been chased in the first place. He found out later it was a case of mistaken identity.

Williams underwent multiple surgeries to repair the damage from the bullets.

On June 5, 2020, House was charged with the shooting. Williams sat for a deposition with prosecutors to offer his statement.

Still, he said he couldn鈥檛 dwell on the criminal case. There was too much already going on inside his head.

His arms and leg were in casts, so he could barely move. Depression overcame him. He suffered from survivor鈥檚 guilt and ran a long list of what-ifs: What if he didn鈥檛 go out that night? What if the highway exit he needed would have been open? What if the shooter hadn鈥檛 gotten the wrong guy?

For his entire life, Williams said, he had tried to stay away from violence. His mother moved the family from the city鈥檚 south side to Washington, Missouri, when he was a child. Gangs were trying to recruit her oldest son, she said, so she moved them to get away. But years later, Williams was diagnosed with Crohn鈥檚 disease and his family returned to 最新杏吧原创 to get him treatment.

By 2020, Williams was the healthiest he鈥檇 been in years. He was working at a Schnucks distribution warehouse and was training to be an EMT.

He said it angered him that such a seemingly inconsequential series of decisions put him in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had to go back to the hospitals he hated. He felt alone.

Deep bedsores developed on his body as he dealt with depression. He needed surgery to repair the wounds, and his mother still dresses them daily.

One night, Williams鈥� mother woke up in her condominium next door, feeling that something wasn鈥檛 right. She went to check on her son and found Williams foaming at the mouth. He said he had tried to kill himself and was floating toward a white light.

鈥淭his whole thing took me somewhere,鈥� he said. 鈥淚t broke me to pieces.鈥�

Meanwhile, Yulonda Brown was enveloped in her own grief. Around the same time she lost her daughter, she was consoling friends who had also lost loved ones during the summer of 2020.

She created a memorial Facebook page for her 鈥渁ngel鈥� Marcia, who tried to help people in need. She posted updates 鈥� a video from police seeking help identifying suspects in the killing, a video of herself at her daughter鈥檚 gravesite, information about a virtual balloon release.

At the same time, she was dealing with a legal system that she says was not serving her daughter.

She noticed that the prosecutors in her daughter鈥檚 case were overworked and exhausted. She wanted to take action. She requested meetings with city officials, the governor of Missouri and anyone who would listen. She went on TV.

Then, last July, weeks before the suspect鈥檚 trial was set to begin, prosecutors filed a motion to delay. They said critical DNA evidence hadn鈥檛 been completed and they needed more time. But the judge didn鈥檛 grant a continuance, so prosecutors dismissed and refiled the charges instead, pushing them to the bottom of a long list of cases. A new assistant circuit attorney was assigned to handle it, and it would be months before it came back up for trial.

鈥淵ou gotta be kidding me,鈥� Brown remembered thinking.

鈥榃hy hasn鈥檛 somebody updated me?鈥�

Williams has tried to put aside frustrations with the court system. His parents fill him in with updates on the case and Gardner鈥檚 office, but he doesn鈥檛 watch the news. He stays off social media. He has vowed to stay positive.

He recently got shared custody of his son, T.J., and he spends each day making sure the boy eats, does his homework and gets answers to the litany of questions he asks about rockets and space and his latest obsession, anime cartoons.

It has helped some with his survivor鈥檚 guilt and depression, Williams said, but he still has days where he wants to shut the blinds and lie in bed. He has trouble sleeping. He is lonely.

Williams said the court case may bring some closure, but his real focus is on the future. He still has dreams of becoming a trauma nurse. He wants to be social again and maybe find a group of paraplegics like him. He wants to show T.J. the world.

鈥淓ven though it鈥檚 really, really tough, I do got plans,鈥� Williams said. 鈥淚 just hope one day I can heal up and get a little support and maybe go back to school.鈥�

Last week, Yulonda Brown spoke about how much she dreads Mother鈥檚 Day. She never dreamed she鈥檇 be in a 鈥渄irty club鈥� of people who have lost a child. She tries to think of solutions. She prays and goes to therapy.

The trial in her daughter鈥檚 case is set for September. She had hoped there would be no more changes and the prosecutor would stick around.

But he quit the office on May 1. No one notified her. A Post-Dispatch reporter delivered the news to her during a recent interview.

Yulonda Brown put her head in her hands and cried.

鈥淲hy hasn鈥檛 somebody updated me?鈥� she said. 鈥淲hy hasn鈥檛 someone from the city called?鈥�

Editor's note: This story corrects the spelling of Crohn's disease.