Life After Death: The Shocking True Story of a Innocent Man on Death Row

entire thing to crumble. When you have an argument you can’t even hold hands and talk sweetly to each other when making up. You’re limited to whatever emotion you can express in a ten-minute conversation on a telephone that other people are listening to and recording every word. The vast majority of people in prison find themselves alone, left behind by people who have moved on.
    One of our—Lorri’s and mine—greatest inventions was moon water. Another prisoner once discovered me making moon water and said it was so illogical it nearly drove him insane. For months afterward he would stomp his feet in frustration and bellow, “This shit is crazy! It makes no sense! That shit is making my head hurt!” For some reason the thought of it seemed to hurt his mind. Then again, he was a little unbalanced to begin with.
    Moon water can be made only once a month, on the night of the full moon. After the sun goes down and the moon rides high, you fill a container with water and set it on a window ledge so that the moon casts a reflection in it. You must leave it there all night, so that it catches as much of the moon’s light as possible. You have to remove it right before morning so that the sun’s light never touches it. It must then be kept in a dark place. My wife and I did this every full moon for years, and we would take a single sip of the water at the same time each night while thinking of each other. In that moment we were united, no matter how far apart we might be. You take a single sip each night so that you have enough to last the entire month.
    For every way the system attempts to separate us, we can’t help but seek out new ways to pull ourselves together. In the end, hatefulness and ignorance always fail in the face of intelligence and love. The proof is in the moon water.

Hope
    Immortality
    And glorious nonsense
    A sunburst in my brain
    And plans of things to come
    —D AMIEN E CHOLS , V ARNER U NIT

Me, around second grade. This is the only picture of me I know of that survives from this time.

At Tucker Max, 1996. After nearly two years in prison, I had only recently begun to have visits from strangers who were sympathetic to my cause. (Grove Pashley)

Both of these photos were taken outside hearings, probably around 1997 and 1998. (Grove Pashley)

In 1996, I met my future wife, Lorri Davis, when she wrote me a letter telling me she’d seen the first documentary made about the West Memphis Three. She gave me these photos, which I kept hidden in my cell for years.

( FROM TOP )
    The wedding altar. The ceremony, December 3, 1999. Lorri and I are married. It was the first time we were permitted to touch each other. Afterward, author Mara Leveritt and her partner, Linda Bessette, hosted a reception at their home in Little Rock. (Grove Pashley)

Lorri and me; with Lorri’s parents, Harry and Lynn Davis; and my adoptive mother, Cally Salzman, visiting me. The prison charged five dollars for each Polaroid, and to judge from the stacks and stacks of them that Lorri has—one from nearly every visit—the prison photo business was lucrative during my tenure.

A birthday card that I made for Lorri one year. Occasions like this were especially painful; I wanted so much to be with her, to give her gifts, to spend the day with her.

I felt truly blessed, though, just to know she had found me.

Domini brought my son, Seth, to Arkansas, and Lorri would meet them and take over, acting as stepmother for a day or two. These pictures were taken at Mount Holly Cemetery in Little Rock, a historic landmark. Lorri and Seth got along well, and it was a relief to share my anxieties about fatherhood with her. (Grove Pashley)

Lorri brought Seth to visit several times in the first ten years or so that I was incarcerated. The prison photographer, you may have noted, was not exactly a professional artiste . . . .

I wasn’t the only artist on Death Row. A Christmas card I still have from another inmate, Robert Robbins. His sentence was commuted to life without parole, and he is still in an Arkansas prison today.

I made the piece above and those below to decorate my cell. I think the photo of the figure comes from a National Geographic ; unfortunately I can’t recall what the characters mean.

Most of my art was made from the inner casings of book covers. These are my paintings of the Egyptian god Anubis.

I kept an astrological pocket planner some years. These pages are from 2009.

Lorri showing some of my artwork to