Sitting on his bunk inside a Maryland prison, Tyrone Jones used to wonder whether the state would compensate him when he was released.
“When you’re in there for something you didn’t do, you watch the news. It happens everywhere,” Jones said in a recent interview. “You dream of being one of them guys. You cry at night wishing you could be that guy.”
In 1999, Jones was found guilty in Baltimore Circuit Court of conspiracy to commit first-degree murder — a crime he maintains that he did not commit — and sentenced to life in prison. Prosecutors agreed that he was entitled to a new trial in 2010 and, several months later, dropped the case.
But even though he received a life sentence and served 10 years in prison, Jones, now 47, of Parkville, was later deemed ineligible for more than $900,000 in compensation. That’s because an administrative law judge ruled that conspiracy to commit first-degree murder was considered a misdemeanor — not a felony — at the time in Maryland.
His circumstances could soon change. A law that takes effect on Monday will allow people to pursue wrongful conviction compensation and benefits for conspiracy to commit a felony.
“It’s past time for this wrong to be righted,” said Neel Lalchandani, a partner at Brown, Goldstein & Levy in Baltimore, who’s one of the attorneys representing Jones.
Lalchandani called on Maryland Attorney General Anthony Brown to settle the case.
“Not every case has to be this long, drawn out fight with lots of litigation and time and resources.”
‘If you can come forward with any evidence that demonstrates that you did not do it, I will be more than happy to set you free’
On June 24, 1998, Tyree Wright was shot and killed while sitting on the front steps of his home on East Federal Street near North Broadway in Broadway East.
At the time, Jones was a student studying computer science networking administration at Central Texas College and visiting family members and friends in Baltimore. He played basketball and then walked a few blocks to a carryout restaurant.
Minutes after the killing, Baltimore Police arrested Jones.
Prosecutors argued that he was not the shooter but still guilty of murder in the teen’s killing. They presented gunshot residue evidence — he had one particle on the left hand — which his attorneys would later question, arguing it was scientifically unsound.
Jones was found not guilty of first- and second-degree murder and related offenses. But he was found guilty of conspiracy to commit first-degree murder.
No one else was prosecuted.
Baltimore Circuit Judge John N. Prevas described the case as “extremely vexatious” as he sentenced Jones to serve life in prison.
“This is only one of about four in my career that I have said to the defendant, you know, a jury of your peers has convicted you and I have to sentence you as though you did it,” Prevas said. “But if you can come forward with any evidence that demonstrates that you did not do it, I will be more than happy to set you free.”
Jones continued to challenge the conviction, and prosecutors agreed in 2010 that he was entitled to a new trial. He rejected a plea agreement that called for him to serve no additional time in prison.
Months later, the Baltimore State’s Attorney’s Office dropped the case. He was free.
‘It almost felt like I lost all over again’
Since being released from prison, Jones said, life has been complicated.
He said he’s experienced ups and downs and worked to relearn basic human skills, including the ability to connect with others. Prison, he said, is designed to separate people from society. Eventually, he said, he started seeing a therapist.
Jones said he remembers making a conscious choice to put the experience behind him. He said he locked those memories in a closet in his mind.
“Because there was no finality to it, and it’s kind of like somebody doing something to you and you can’t do nothing back,” said Jones. “So, you just try to find a way to walk away and deal with it.”
One day, Jones was at work as a sous chef and left the kitchen to go to the bathroom. He said he glanced up for a split second because a woman who walked past him looked familiar.
It was Michele Nethercott, former director of the Innocence Project Clinic at the University of Baltimore School of Law, who helped set him free.
Nethercott, he said, explained the Walter Lomax Act, a law that overhauled how the state compensated people for wrongful convictions.
“I was apprehensive at first,” Jones said. “Because I had lost so much. And I was home. And I didn’t want to deal with anything that had anything to do with courts or the case.”
He submitted a petition for compensation and benefits in 2023.
But Administrative Law Judge Patrick E. Maher raised a legal issue: People needed to show that they were erroneously convicted, sentenced and subsequently confined for a felony under the Walter Lomax Act.
The Maryland Office of the Attorney General did not take a position. But the Baltimore State’s Attorney’s Office argued that Jones was ineligible for compensation and benefits because conspiracy to commit first-degree murder had been a misdemeanor at the time in Maryland. Lawmakers did not codify the crime as a felony until 2019.
Maher agreed.
When he got home from work one Saturday, Jones saw that he’d received the decision in the mail. Because he was used to dealing with the courts, he immediately skipped to the last page.
“Have you ever seen any of the highlights when Mike Tyson used to knock people out?” Jones said. “That was a body punch.”
“It almost felt like I lost all over again,” he added.
‘The legislature could change this with a single word’
He appealed.
“We disagreed with how the court interpreted it. We thought there was a better interpretation, and we were going to pursue that on the appeal,” said Michael Abrams, an associate at Brown, Goldstein & Levy, who’s one of the attorneys representing Jones. “But we also recognized that the legislature could change this with a single word.”
As it turns out, lawmakers were already working on changes to the Walter Lomax Act.
Abrams testified in his personal capacity before the House Judiciary and Senate Judicial Proceedings committees and highlighted Jones’ case.
The chief of the Conviction Integrity Unit in the Baltimore State’s Attorney’s Office, Lauren Lipscomb, also offered support for the legislation, stating that it “provides tweaks that will ensure more just and fair outcomes for those who have been horribly aggrieved by erroneous incarceration.”
Two weeks later, though, Assistant State’s Attorney Genevieve Vallar asked a judge to deny the appeal.
“To consider Petitioner’s misdemeanor conviction as a felony, when it clearly was not in 1999, in order to be eligible for compensation and benefits under the Walter Lomax Act is purely self-serving,” Vallar wrote in court documents.
Meanwhile, Assistant Attorney General Janee Fountain pushed the court to reverse the ruling.
Fountain wrote in court documents that the decision did not further the legislative purpose of the law and created an absurd result. She said it was “imperative to recognize the profound injustice suffered by individuals wrongfully convicted of crimes they did not commit.”
“When a person is incorrectly denied the opportunity to seek relief pursuant to the Walter Lomax Act based on misclassification, it perpetuates an additional layer of harm and deprivation,” Fountain said. “Such errors not only result in profound personal injustices but also undermine the fundamental principles of fairness.”
Lawmakers passed legislation that in part amended the act to make people who were convicted of conspiracy to commit a felony eligible to seek compensation and benefits. And Jones was there for the bill signing ceremony, where he met Gov. Wes Moore.
‘It would make me feel like they made it right’
Jones said the fact that legislators changed the law is surreal to him. He said the emotions haven’t hit yet.
Every time he’s run into a difficult situation in life, he said, he’s thought about where he would be today if he had not served 10 years in prison, or the state immediately compensated him after he was released.
“It would make me feel like they made it right,” Jones said.
A spokesperson for the Maryland Office of the Attorney General, Thomas Lester, declined to comment.
In a statement, James Bentley, a spokesperson for the Baltimore State’s Attorney’s Office, said it will perform a “thorough review” now that Jones’ case is eligible for consideration and has “not yet taken any position on the substantive merits.”
“Our office’s position remained consistent - that conspiracy to commit murder is a Misdemeanor,” Bentley said. “Our testimony addressed a deficiency in the universe of crimes that the Lomax Act was intended to capture.”
Today, Jones is a father of two. He has a daughter, Kennedi, 12, and a son, Kaden, 9.
He said receiving compensation would create generational wealth and help him provide stability for his son, who’s autistic. As a father, Jones said, he wants to protect his children and ensure that they have a bright future.
“If this were to happen,” he said, “that would be mind-blowing for me and my kids.”
