Summary
The Exonerated unfolds upon a stark and unadorned stage. The actors rest in simple, armless chairs, their scripts poised on music stands before them. There are no elaborate sets or ornate costumes. The play flows uninterrupted, with no intermissions or momentary darkness to break its rhythm.
Delbert is the first voice to rise above the stillness, weaving in and out of the narrative like a choral guide. His speech is a tapestry of poetic expressions, delivering a stark warning: “It is dangerous to dwell too much on things: / to wonder who or why or when, to wonder how, is dangerous.” Pondering aloud, he muses on the path forward—should he follow in the footsteps of literary giants like Richard, Ralph, and Langston? These are the voices of African American authors courageously confronting racism: Richard Wright, known for Native Son (1940) and Black Boy (1945); Ralph Ellison, the mind behind The Invisible Man (1952); and Langston Hughes, a luminary poet of the Harlem Renaissance. Despite the challenges, Delbert declares, “Yet I sing.”
Gary and Sue
With Delbert's reflective words lingering, the lights illuminate Sue and her husband Gary. In a narrative tinged with tragedy, Gary recounts a day like any other, when he visited the motorcycle shop at his family's farm. Alone, he thought little of his parents' absence, knowing they were on a planned trip. The next morning brought unease when they hadn’t returned, prompting Gary to alert the police. His world shattered upon discovering his father's lifeless form in a back room. The horror compounded when the police unearthed his mother’s body, her throat cruelly slashed, in a trailer nearby. Gary soon found himself ensnared in handcuffs.
Robert and Georgia
As Delbert's verses drift into the background, the focus shifts to Robert and his wife, Georgia. Robert, who toiled as a groom at a racetrack, was embroiled in a harrowing ordeal following the rape and murder of a young white woman there. As a brief scene unfurls behind him, Robert faces the grilling of two white policemen who assert his guilt.
Robert continues, revealing his past relationship with the victim and his certainty of an unjust conviction due to the racial makeup of his jury—eleven whites, one black. He draws a parallel with O.J. Simpson’s infamous trial in 1995, suggesting that racial bias rather than evidence drove the prosecution. Georgia, however, expresses skepticism, believing in Simpson's guilt.
Kerry and Sandra
The narrative then shifts to Kerry, with his wife Sandra standing by. In the vibrant 1970s, Kerry worked at a sprawling apartment complex in Texas. A chance encounter with a mesmerizing nude woman by the window led to a fleeting connection by the poolside, where they conversed and later shared intimacy in her apartment. Their brief encounter ended mysteriously, yet three months later, Kerry was accused of her murder.
In court, the prosecutor highlighted a crucial fingerprint on the slain woman’s doorframe, belonging to Kerry. His defense argued the uncertainty of the print's timing, while the prosecution insisted it was evidence of guilt. Kerry unveiled a long-buried truth: Linda, the victim, had been entangled in an affair with a university professor. This revelation, concealed for two decades, involved Linda’s roommate, Paula, who had seen a man fitting the professor's description at the scene. Yet, in court, Paula identified Kerry as the visitor.
David's Ordeal
David, still a high school student, tells of the day he was pulled into a web of accusations, interrogated by police about a grocery store robbery. Despite his repeated denials, the officers pressed him to recount the crime.
Sheriff Carroll recounts the mayhem: Upon entering...
(This entire section contains 2223 words.)
Unlock this Study Guide Now
Start your 48-hour free trial and get ahead in class. Boost your grades with access to expert answers and top-tier study guides. Thousands of students are already mastering their assignments—don't miss out. Cancel anytime.
Already a member? Log in here.
the store with a colleague, he saw three young black men. The customers lay restrained, and the assailants demanded money from the officers, attempting to subdue them with pantyhose. A struggle ensued, erupting in an exchange of eighteen to twenty gunshots. Carroll was injured, his partner killed, and the suspects vanished into the chaos.
Overwhelmed by fear during questioning, David confessed to a crime he hadn’t committed, clinging to the hope that the truth would eventually surface.
Sunny's Tale
The next voice belongs to Sunny, recounting a pivotal moment from 1976. After giving birth to a daughter with her boyfriend, Jesse, and already a mother to nine-year-old Eric, Sunny drove to Florida to fetch Jesse, who was stranded without means. Upon arrival, they stayed with Walter Rhodes, a dubious associate of Jesse’s, who seemed steeped in illegal dealings. A supposedly simple ride to Broward County with Rhodes turned into a journey marred by catastrophe.
Delbert resurfaces to recount his tale, a poignant journey marked by unexpected tribulations. Having recently left seminary, he embarked on a cross-country voyage, hitchhiking his way through America. Fate placed him in Florida during a harrowing tragedy—a man murdered, a woman assaulted. The Florida Highway Patrol detained him briefly, but after an interrogation, a patrolman gave Delbert a note affirming his innocence. Yet, destiny’s cruel twist followed; two weeks passed, and Delbert was ensnared in Mississippi, accused of the heinous acts. The sole reason? He matched the victim's description in one haunting detail: his skin color.
In a stark moment of revelation, Robert and Georgia dissect the racial biases ingrained within law enforcement. Meanwhile, the story shifts its gaze back to Sunny, who, along with Rhodes and Jesse, had stopped at a rest area under the midnight cloak. A routine police check unearthed a firearm at Rhodes’ feet. Discovering his parole status, the officers were on edge. A tense standoff culminated in gunfire, a flurry of bullets that left two officers dead. Commandeering the police car, Rhodes forced Jesse and Sunny inside, casting Sunny into a bewildering nightmare. Their capture at a roadblock led to her being swiftly charged with first-degree murder, a chilling twist of fate.
The spotlight then turns to Gary, caught in the police’s unwavering belief in his culpability. They wore him down with relentless questioning until exhaustion muddled his mind, and he began to doubt himself. Under duress, he concocted a hypothetical scenario of what might have transpired if he had indeed committed the parental murders. One officer, eager to wrap up the case, almost narrated the confession for him, twisting Gary’s speculative words into an unwarranted admission of guilt.
In her own interrogation, Sunny staunchly denied firing any shots. The investigators pressed hard, their tactics relentless. She offered cooperation, unaware that Rhodes had brokered a deal, placing the blame for the officer’s shooting on Sunny and Jesse.
At Sunny’s trial, Rhodes took the stand. He alleged that Sunny discharged her weapon twice or thrice at the first officer, followed by Jesse seizing the gun to finish the job and shoot the second officer. According to Rhodes, it was Jesse’s suggestion to escape in the police vehicle.
Delbert resumes his narrative, recalling his own tragic journey. He chose to be extradited from Texas back to Florida willingly. Despite the absence of concrete evidence, a jury, blinded by racial prejudice, convicted him.
In a brief scene, Robert assumes the role of public defender, while Dilbert muses on society’s predispositions. The tale then pivots to Kerry, unjustly portrayed as a woman-hating homosexual by the prosecutors, despite his sexuality being irrelevant to the case. Kerry's supposed homosexuality, a fabrication, became a tool for the prosecution's inflammatory rhetoric as they fervently demanded his execution.
The narrative returns to Sunny, reflecting on Jesse’s trial and conviction. She hoped for her own acquittal, a hope dashed by the prosecution's misconduct and their concealment of exonerating evidence.
The scene dims to cast light on David, caught between the prosecuting and defense counsels. The defense exposes the trial's many flaws; David went days without hearing his charges, deprived of the legal rights accorded to defendants. His ordeal was marked by a lack of immediate counsel and a breach of courtroom transparency.
Sunny’s memories drift back to the chilling moment of her death sentence, while Delbert shares a haunting analogy from his university days. He recalls participating in a dream study, where electrodes were placed by his ears, reminiscent of those used in executions.
Sunny reflects on the suffocating despair of her confinement, while David recalls losing a once-cherished connection with God upon entering prison. Kerry recounts his harrowing tenure on Texas’s death row, where he witnessed the execution of 141 inmates, each one a personal acquaintance. He stresses that his own respectable background offers no immunity from such a fate, warning that it could befall anyone.
Gary, isolated without gang affiliations, found solace in embroidery, using a smuggled sewing needle to fashion a tote bag from spare clothing. His resourcefulness became his refuge amidst solitude and vulnerability.
Robert shares a vivid memory of the electric chair’s ominous buzz, a weekly reminder of its deadly purpose. After signing a complaint against a guard, Robert himself became a target of harassment. He wrote to a judge, seeking protection and vowing not to endure the abuse any longer.
Kerry's ordeal continued, exacerbated by the false label of homosexuality. This stigma led to a brutal prison rape, casting him into a pit of fear and despair, driving him to the brink of suicide on two occasions.
Delbert speaks with unwavering conviction about his faith, steadfastly refusing to let anger consume him. He understands that surrendering to rage would mean surrendering his very essence to death.
David recounts his time in prison, where he felt enveloped by the divine love God holds for humanity, igniting his spiritual fervor. One rainy day, while the prisoners were outside, he invoked the name of Jesus and bid the rain to cease. Miraculously, it did. When the rain resumed, David issued the command once more, and again the skies obeyed his call. This astonishing event repeated three times, leaving one inmate in awe.
Sunny reminisces about the fifteen years she exchanged letters with Jesse, each missive a lifeline she preserved. Jesse appears, reading a letter penned in 1976, peppered with Japanese code words signifying intimate secrets. This correspondence fortified Sunny throughout her imprisonment.
Kerry's resolve was fueled by loyalty to his elder brother, Doyle, his steadfast protector. Doyle visited, troubled by the sight of Kerry's bruised eyes, and wished to confront the warden. Yet, Kerry insisted on silence, believing that betrayal within prison walls was unforgivable. Doyle's inability to intervene led him down a destructive path, culminating in his tragic death in 1997—a fatal shooting outside a Tyler, Texas club. Though the shooter was convicted, justice offered only a brief three-year sentence.
Sunny shares her refusal to succumb to despair, finding solace in her faith—a belief in a power greater than her captors that she could appeal to for strength.
Robert clung to the hope of a retrial, a hope rewarded when it was revealed that a crucial piece of evidence—a sixteen-inch strand of red hair clutched by the deceased girl—had been overlooked. This hair belonged unmistakably to the girl's ex-boyfriend, not Robert.
After enduring twenty-two years on death row, Kerry celebrates his release, vindicated by DNA evidence implicating the true murderer: the victim's former boyfriend, a professor never charged for the crime.
Gary tells of a Northwestern University lawyer who championed his case, uncovering a 1995 video confession by a motorcycle gang member admitting the murder of Gary's parents. Two men now bear the conviction for this crime, yet Gary staunchly opposes the death penalty for them.
Sunny recounts Rhodes' 1979 letter to the judge, a confession of his role in shooting two policemen. Despite this revelation, Sunny's freedom remained elusive until 1992.
Delbert describes the numbness that enveloped him upon release, his sleepless nights numbered at three until a pastor's prayer brought peace. He faces the challenging journey of reclaiming his humanity and rediscovering emotion.
David shares how, even after liberation, he habitually locks his door, a remnant of prison life. Now, he searches for identity, sometimes finding solace in poetry and marijuana, seeking his lost spirituality.
Kerry's wife, Sandra, recounts their meeting post-release through her work with the Dallas Peace Center, aiding his societal reintegration. Their union soon followed, yet Kerry's nights remain haunted by prison's ghostly grip.
Robert and Georgia reflect on four years of freedom and two years of marriage. Despite this new life, Robert is haunted by dreams of what might have been had he not been wrongly incarcerated. His quest to regain his racetrack license proves frustratingly elusive.
Sue and Gary share a market encounter where a farmer's insinuations cast doubt on Gary's innocence. Gary muses on the subjective nature of reality, each person seeing through their own prism.
Sunny recounts her determined pursuit of a second chance and the harrowing tale of Jesse's botched execution, where three excruciating electric shocks prolonged his death for thirteen and a half minutes.
Delbert speaks of the courage needed to rise above fear, urging against blanket blame on all white people for systemic failures. Despite a flawed justice system, he expresses pride in America while advocating for necessary reforms.
Sunny aspires to be a living testament, her unwavering spirit a monument to overcoming wrongful conviction.
The final words belong to Delbert, who echoes his earlier sentiments with poetic resilience. As the sound of rain fills the air, he beckons David to sing. David lifts his hand, and once more, the rain obliges by halting.
