46 pages • 1 hour read
Anthony Ray Hinton, Lara Love HardinA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Hinton begins reflecting on his life, still not sure about how much time he has. While insisting he will reflect on the good moments of his life, he starts by listing the name of the 54 men executed during his stay. One more prisoner has been set to be executed, but, Hinton says, “I didn’t want to add [his] name to the list. Not yet. Not while there was still hope” (224).
He continues reminiscing and asks himself a long list of questions about what the future might hold for him: “I remembered how good it felt to hold a woman in my arms and have her look into my eyes […] Even if I got out, who would want to kiss the man from death row” (225). Hinton suggests he might as well be resigned to knowing that he will be executed: “My case was winding down. I knew that” (226).
Eventually, he gets a call from Stevenson: They have made progress in the case. While Hinton is not yet quite able to start preparing to leave, there is, finally, a foreseeable resolution: “The United States Supreme Court was on my side” (228).
In county jail now, waiting to learn the date of his retrial, Hinton gets still more distressing news: His case keeps getting delayed because evidence has been lost. Once the DA’s office finally finds the gun and bullets, they prepare for yet another ballistics test. Hinton mentions that he isn’t concerned: “I had faith in Bryan. I had faith in the truth” (230).
He returns a call from Stevenson office only to discover—seemingly out of nowhere—that all charges against him have been dropped, with no formal announcement. Stevenson suggests that the DA’s office was likely embarrassed: “Without a word to anyone,” Stevenson tells him over the phone, “they just filed a document electronically […] you’re finally going home” (231). Stevenson adds he will be at the county jail, that Friday, at 9:30 AM. After the call, Hinton sits on the floor and sobs.
He is released and greeted by family, friends, and a swarm of media. He recollects the experience: “I had lived in a place where the sun had refused to shine. Not anymore. Never again” (233). Lester drives Hinton first to visit his mother’s grave and they eat at a local restaurant. Hinton, overwhelmed and confused, insists that they leave the restaurant. Back at Lester’s place, Hinton is offered a soft bed, but feels himself panicking again. He retreats to the bathroom at Lester’s house, and sleeps there, on the floor. The bathroom, he adds, is about the same size as his former cell.
Hinton expresses his awareness of the irony of his new life. While on death row, he imagined so many bizarre experiences. Now, he is actually playing basketball with George Clooney on Richard Branson’s private island.
He settles into his new life, speaking to anyone who will listen. He has become “a voice for every man who still sits on the row” (238). He cleans up his mother’s old home and lives there, but still feels trapped by his past: “Freedom is a funny thing,” he writes, “I have my freedom, but in some ways, I am still locked down on the row” (239). He still follows his meal schedule from his time on death row; he feels comfortable sleeping only on one small corner of his bed. He trusts no one but Lester and Bryan Stevenson.
He reflects, too, on the positives, and on the future. He gets an actual private tour of Buckingham palace, visits Hawaii, and sees a Yankees game. He forgives those who sought to have him executed, and decides that he will be a voice for change: “I look for purpose in losing thirty years of my life. I try to make meaning out of something so wrong and so senseless” (241).
In closing, Hinton asks to reader to question the utility and integrity of the death penalty. He lists, by state, the names of men and women who, as of March 2017, are on death row. He adds that one out of every ten of these inmates is innocent. He asks, “Do you know who is innocent? Read their names. My name was once on this list” (243).
In fact, he will not let the reader off too easily; he insists they should be active in protesting: “The death penalty is broken, and you are either part of the death squad or you are banging on the bars. Choose.” (244). What follows is more than 20 pages of names, with each page listing nearly 150 people.
In the final section of the book, Hinton continues to employ sensory descriptions to create vivid and lasting imagery. He demonstrates his appreciation of irony, and adjusts his writing style to replicate changes in his sense of the passage of time.
His senses, especially upon his release, are intensified to a surprising proportion. When he visits a restaurant, he says, “I couldn’t believe all the different choices” (234). After loading his tray and quickly eating, he feels people are watching him; he has trouble using his fork. He adds, “it was strange to be around so many people, to have my back to people. It made me uneasy” (234).
Later than evening, upon trying to sleep, Hinton recalls life in prison: “the sounds of the guards walking up and down the tier. The clang of trays […] The smell of sweat and grime. I could see and hear and smell it all” (236). By Chapter 24, however, he suggests his senses are not so overwhelmed. The beaches on Branson’s island “are made up of soft white sand that feels like pillow under your bare feet” (238). And, after more time passes, he describes the Alabama weather: “I love the smell of the air and the green of the woods” (238). These details help the reader to better understand the great emotional changes that Hinton has undergone. He explains further: “The first time I felt rain on my skin, I wept […] Rain has a beauty I never knew until it was gone” (239).
Hinton is also aware of the striking ironies—both tragic and amusing—that have befallen him. Although he is physically free, his years on death row made him paranoid and overly cautious. He keeps receipts, makes sure to pass clearly within the view of all security cameras, and regularly calls people to check in. He explains: “I create an alibi for every single day of my life. I live in fear that this could happen to me again” (239). He also comments on the more comical ironies: Whereas before he was daydreaming about people, events, and lifestyles, now he is, in fact, playing basketball with George Clooney—and winning. He reflects he is having a good day: “I’ve had days like this before, when I was on the row, but I’m not travelling in my mind. I’m really playing basketball with George Clooney” (237).
The final chapters are much more brief than the average length of previous ones; this change reflects Hinton’s shifting awareness of time. At the start, things moved slowly; near the end, quickly—even too quickly. He closes with a consideration of time. He has lost 30 years. What he will do with the remainder of his life is fight for justice, but not simply in the abstract sense. In the Afterword, Hinton offers the list names of inmates on death row, and asks—even challenges—the readers to appreciate their own freedom, and to fight for that of others. The list, as it appears on the page, can be viewed as a memorial. While perhaps a small percentage of those people are actually innocent, none of them, he claims, ought to be sentenced to death.