Justice After Injustice

On Feb. 5, 1984, the police picked up Thomas Haynesworth, a teenager who was on his way to the store on orders from his mother to buy sweet potatoes for Sunday dinner. Haynesworth, a self-described “goody two-shoes and peacemaker” who aspired to be a police officer, had no criminal record whatsoever. But a woman who was raped under circumstances similar to Burke’s had seen him and called the police, saying she recognized him as her attacker. When Burke was brought down to the police station to make identification, she thought she did, too. “I was positive,” she said. “I never second-guessed myself one bit.” Burke’s confidence was buoyed when the police told her a blood test showed Haynesworth was a match for her rapist.

Haynesworth was charged with Burke’s rape and three other crimes, all of which involved kidnapping, rape, or attempted rapes within a 1-mile radius of the East End Church. The charges were literally incomprehensible to Haynesworth: His mother had to explain to him what “sodomy” and “abduction” meant. But he knew he was innocent and remained hopeful that the jurors would believe his side of the story—that he was at home asleep. He prayed that Burke would realize she had made a terrible mistake.