He ain’t heavy, mister…

I remember paging through a magazine as a little guy in the 1940s, and seeing the image of an older boy carrying a younger boy on his back. The caption read, “He ain’t heavy, mister… he’s my brother.” I never forgot it. 

Maurice Carter died exactly 21 years ago this week. I called him my brother. 

It all began in the mid-90s when I was introduced to this Michigan prisoner. Maurice, of Gary Indiana, was serving a life sentence on charges of assault with intent to commit murder. His claims of innocence in a Benton Harbor shooting case intrigued me. For the next month or two, he and I chatted, sometimes by telephone, sometimes in prison. It didn’t take long for this old reporter to realize that the Maurice Carter case not only had a serious odor…it reeked! 

So, I agreed to partner with him to assist in proving his claims and obtaining his freedom. That was a huge victory for Maurice. His support group suddenly doubled. Instead of just Maurice, now it was Maurice and Doug. 

We fought for nearly a decade. By 2004 when his sentence was commuted---

-Maurice’s name had spiraled from anonymity to international recognition.

-Our little two-man team had expanded to a citizen’s committee and volunteers.

-Our cause attracted the attention of not one, not two, not three, but four Innocence Projects…three in the U.S. and one in Canada! 

-We staged rallies on the steps of the County Courthouse and the State Capitol.

-Billboards began appearing in the Benton Harbor area.

-News of our story grew from a little newspaper article in Benton Harbor to international radio, TV and newspaper coverage. 

-Leading criminal justice experts in the nation joined our battle, coming to Berrien County to conduct a forum on eyewitness identification and to do sound analysis of pistol shots on a main street in Benton Harbor. 

-Renowned welterweight boxer Rubin Hurricane Carter (no relation) whose powerful story of two wrongful convictions was told in song by Bob Dylan and in a screenplay by Denzel Washington, joined our fight, made two personal trips to Benton Harbor and visited Maurice Carter in prison. 

-We attracted the interest of renowned author Alex Kotlowitz, who came from Chicago for a personal meeting with Maurice.

Sadly, we never achieved the goal of exoneration. Maurice took ill, was diagnosed with Hepatis C/end stage, and was granted a medical release by Governor Jennifer Granholm in 2004. He had spent 29 years behind bars. We worked like crazy to get him a new liver, but…too little, too late. My brother Maurice died exactly three months after he stepped into freedom. His last words on this earth were whispered to me: “I love you.” 

The story is now told in a book, a stage play and a film documentary. It led to the formation of HUMANITY FOR PRISONERS. And, it remains alive as Carter supporters seek a posthumous governor's pardon. 

Every now and then I still have someone express surprise that I stuck with Maurice all that time. That baffles me. I know of no one who, having a close friend in serious trouble, would---after months and years---give up and tell that friend that enough was enough…he or she would no longer help. 

I did what anybody would do, because Maurice wasn’t heavy…he was my brother. 

Love one another with brotherly affection. Romans 12:10