had several pretrial hearings on different motions during which he would sometimes become
frustrated because of the bickering between the lawyers. We kept insisting on obtaining all
files and evidence the State had in its possession. We had uncovered so much exculpatory
evidence that had not been disclosed previously that we were sure there was still more that
had not been turned over. The judge finally told us that we were fishing after we’d made our
ninth or tenth request for more police and prosecution files. I suspect that Judge Norton had
scheduled the final Rule 32 hearing in part because he wanted to get this contentious,
complicated case off his docket and out of his court.
In the last pretrial appearance, the judge had asked, “How much time will you need to
present your evidence, Mr. Stevenson?”
“We’d like to reserve a week, your honor.”
“A week? You’ve got to be joking. For a Rule 32 hearing? The trial in this case only lasted a
day and a half.”
“Yes, sir. We believe this is an extraordinary case and there are several witnesses and—”
“Three days, Mr. Stevenson. If you can’t make your case in three days after all of this
drama you’ve stirred up, you don’t really have anything.”
“Judge, I—”
“Adjourned.”
After spending another long day in Monroeville tracking down a few final witnesses, Michael
and I went back to the office to plot out how to present all of the evidence in the narrow
amount of time the judge was giving us. We needed to make the complexity of the case and
the multiple ways that Walter’s rights had been violated coherent and understandable to the
judge. Another concern was Myers and his love of fantastical narration, so we sat down with
him a few days before the hearing and tried to make it as plain as possible.
“No long excursions about police corruption,” I said. “Just answer the questions accurately
and honestly, Ralph.”
“I always do,” Ralph said confidently.
“Wait, did you just say you always do?” Michael asked. “What are you talking about, you
always do? Ralph, you lied through your ass the entire trial. That’s what we’re going to
expose at this hearing.”
“I know,” Myers said coolly. “I meant I always tell y’all the truth.”
“Don’t freak me out, Ralph. Just testify truthfully,” Michael said.
Ralph had been calling our office almost daily with an unending stream of strange
thoughts, ideas, and conspiracies. I was frequently too busy to talk to him, so Michael had
been fielding most of the calls and had become increasingly worried about Ralph’s unique
perspective on the world. But we could do no more about it.
We arrived at the courthouse the morning of the hearing early and anxious. We were both
dressed in dark suits, white shirts, and muted ties. I usually dressed as conservatively as
possible for court. I was a young, bearded black man, and even when there was no jury I still
tried to meet the court’s expectation of what a lawyer looked like, if only for the sake of my
clients. We first went to check on Myers to make sure he had arrived safely and was in a
stable state of mind before the hearing began. The Baldwin County Sheriff’s Department
deputies had brought Ralph from the prison in St. Clair County to the courthouse the night