Leaning into a curve on a Georgia mountain highway, tearing through the wind like a bullet, Calvin Johnson can forget about the shackles that he wore.
He and his friends ride their motorcycles for fun, for fellowship and because they just love the machines. But Johnson also gets something more out of it. Freedom. Limitless space. Payback for the 16 years he served in prison for a crime he didn't commit.
"During all those years of prison, I grew up a lot," he says. "I had a lot of time to mature ... but I had to keep a little something from my past, something a little wild, a little dangerous at times."
It has been 10 years today since Johnson, 51, was freed from prison. In that time he has fallen in love and married, fathered a beautiful girl, built a house and pursued a career. He is also a founding board member of the Georgia Innocence Project and sits on the board of the New York Innocence Project, working to free others who have been wrongfully imprisoned.
"Clearly his motivation is to give back," says Lisa George of the Georgia Innocence Project. "He's paying it forward in the biggest way possible."
A visit to his Clayton County home reveals a different world than the one he inhabited behind bars. Green lawns lead up to a spacious, five-bedroom, all-brick home. A settlement from the state helped him pay for the house. His Suzuki motorcycle is parked in the garage near his Dodge truck and a croquet set.
Inside he gets a frenzied greeting from T.J., his papillon pooch. On the coffee table in the living room is a school project built by his 8-year-old daughter, Brianna — a scale model of a tropical island, surrounded by a blue-painted sea and dotted with miniature hobby-shop trees.
"She's 8 going on 9, and thinks she's 21," Johnson says, laughing.
Out back is the barbecue grill and deck where later this month he'll entertain a crowd at a party celebrating his 10 years of freedom.
In 1983 a College Park woman was raped in her home. Johnson, a Clark University graduate, was named as a suspect. He became a suspect because of an earlier rape charge that was dismissed because he couldn't be picked out of a lineup and because the victim stated that her attacker was uncircumcised. (Johnson is circumcised.)
His hair did not match a hair found at the scene, and he didn't fit the description the victim offered immediately after the crime, yet he was convicted in Clayton County and sentenced to life plus two concurrent 15-year sentences.
As Johnson swung a bush ax, working on prison crews in South Georgia swamps, evidence in the case was almost discarded — it was actually rescued from a garbage can at one point. His case came to the attention of the New York Innocence Project, which worked to get his DNA compared to the evidence gathered at the scene.
He became the first man in Georgia exonerated because of DNA evidence, and his case inspired the founding of the Georgia Innocence Project. Since his release, six other men have gained freedom through DNA evidence. The Georgia Innocence Project also has helped promote legislation passed in 2003 requiring the state to store such evidence for at least 10 years.
Shortly after Johnson was released, he was interviewed on the Neal Boortz radio show and Sabrina Middleton heard him speak. She was fascinated by his experience and by his calm demeanor.
"I knew that I would have to meet him and hear that story," she says now. "It reminded me of the story of Joseph in the Bible." Later, they ran into each other at church and went on a July 4 date. They married the next year.
Johnson helps his fellow exonerees deal with the enormous hassles of a post-prison life. He knows from experience what they're going through.
He took a rental car to the driver's license bureau, but was told (after waiting in line) that he couldn't use that car to take his driving test. Instead, he turned to the stranger behind him in line and borrowed their vehicle. When he went for a fill-up his first time out in the free world, Johnson sat for a long time, waiting for an attendant, before he realized that gas stations had all become self-service.
Johnson has been promoted three times at his MARTA job, where he now is a supervisor, responsible for the station agents along the east-west line. He demonstrates that success after prison is possible. He also shows the power of forgiveness. "He teaches the new guys by example that [anger] is just a waste of time," George says.
Johnson was 42 years old when his daughter was born, which is a late start on a family, but he doesn't count time in a conventional way. "I might be 51 in numbers," he says with a smile, "but I'm really 35. I was preserved. They had me on ice for 16 years."
For more information about the Georgia Innocence Project, go to
ga-innocenceproject.org.
About the Author
