Transcript of Graduation Night

I tell people it's the miracle of Facebook. All I did was put one sentence, just one sentence. It's not often that you get to be a hero. I got halfway through this and just went, Oh, my God. The murder happened in seconds. One was coming straight for me and Jim with a gun leveled at us. I've never ran so fast in my life. The truth took decades. I said, You know Give me a lie detector test. I never believed it for one minute. Never. Did someone have it all wrong? Were innocent men in prison for a murder they didn't commit? A 22-year mystery until Facebook helped old friends find each other and justice. Could you ever imagine you would actually cause such a thing? Not in a million years. Together, they uncovered an almost unbelievable truth. It all made sense. None of us knew what happened that night. This all made sense. Somebody's seen it. Somebody knew. All right. Now, they just had to get someone to believe them. Oh, my God, we're losing. Oh, my God, we're winning. Oh, my God, we're losing. We'll face whatever has to come. This was it. This was it for sure.

I'm Lester Holt, and this is Dateland. Here's Keith Morison with Graduation Night. In the suburbs outside Detroit, Michigan, in the summer of 2009, a divorced mother of three named Mary Evans was poking around in one of her favorite places, Facebook. You can look up what everyone's up to. Where are they at today? Are they successful? Did they take the wrong path? Dear Mary, no idea that a little innocent poking into her own past would dredge up a shocking truth, Longbury. Oh, I was stunned. It was unbelievable. And a nightmare's worth of terrors. I could have been killed that day. And would bring together an unlikely band of friends, old and new, in a fight to right a terrible wrong. And then a miracle happened. But no, in 2009, it was just an ordinary summer day. No sign of providence anywhere. Just Mary reminiscing about the old days and friends long since gone away. Well, you know how it is? A person wonders. Not such an uncommon thing among people who grew up, as Mary did, in northeast Detroit. When I moved in, it was actually a nice neighborhood. You could walk around the streets singing at one o'clock in the morning in the summer and never had to worry about anything.

It changed. Oh, it definitely changed. Started going really downhill. Not that particular summer day, Mary was in a mood to remember the good times, good friends. And on Facebook, there was something called the Northeast Detroit Alumni Group. So what did you do in this group on Facebook? What that was all about is being in touch with Long house friends, people from the neighborhood. Including a couple of brothers, old friends from the neighborhood who she remembered with a twinge did not turn out so well. Tommy and Ray Hyres went to prison, in fact, for murder. Mary followed the case way back then in 1987, remembers just how she felt when they were found guilty. I was shocked. I was shocked to hear that. I thought, no way. Doesn't sound like them to you? No. Anyway, there she was thinking about them again, fondly. So she wrote a line about missing them whenever she hears a certain song on the radio. And then she sighed and pushed the send button. And look out. People might have trouble believing that such a simple thing as a posting on Facebook could make whole worlds change. A lot of people ask, Well, what was it?

What did you do? What happened? I said, All I did was put one sentence, just one sentence. So she did. And 500 miles away in the suburbs of Washington, DC. What were you doing on Facebook? Just wasting time, like a lot of people do. Kevin Zelenusky grew up in Detroit too, but was now an international trade attorney in DC. He and Mary didn't know each other, weren't even Facebook friends for that matter, but both belonged to that northeast Detroit group, which is why that very same summer day in 2009, he just happened to see Mary's post about those boys in prison for murder. That said something to the effect that Tommy and Raymond Hyres are in prison for life. Every time I hear, Miss you by the Stones, I think of those guys. Did you Did you know those two guys? No, I didn't know them. Which by all right, should have been the end of it. But something in that post tripped a wire deep in the crater of Kevin's memory. That name, Hyres. He'd heard it before he was sure of it. In connection with a murder case way back in the late '80s.

And that memory lit up another one, clear as day. The indelible memory of a bizarre story a college roommate told him one night in '93 or so. He could hardly believe it then. But now, when he saw Mary's post, no, it couldn't be. Were those old stories somehow connected? Maybe Mary could tell him. I sent back to her. They wouldn't happen to be in prison for killing Old Man Bob, and she got back and said, Yes, they are in prison for killing Old Man Bob. Old Man Bob was Robert Cary, well-known fence, loan shark, drug dealer, murdered at the back door of his East Detroit home in the summer of 1987. Kevin was already on the computer that day in 2009, so he pulled up the Michigan Department of Corrections website, saw pictures of Tommy and Ray Hyres, confirmed they were in prison doing life without parole for the murder of Old Man Bob. It was then it hit him like a brick in the face. Something about those pictures was very, very wrong. The only one thing to do, Kevin picked up the phone and called that old college roommate, a man he hadn't seen for at least a decade.

This man, John Helser. He said it was about Old Man Bob, and I just started freaking out. I'm not doing it. I'm not doing any of this. How come? Scared. Felt scared. But if he was scared now, oh, just wait. Mary's little post and the connections it pulled up in Kevin's brain had just made John Helser part of a team he wasn't sure he wanted to belong to, and the next move was his. As a band of friends sets out on a journey to find justice, they first need to find out what really happened the night Old Man Bob was murdered. Everybody assumes that the people running down the driveway shot him. I said, You know what? Give me a lie detector test. I got halfway through this and just went, Oh, my God. Something serendipitous was in the wind in Detroit. The summer turned to fall in 2009. The woman's simple Facebook post about old friends now in prison for life, was read by a Detroit native turned DC lawyer who got curious, looked up their pictures, and... Couldn't sleep really at the beginning, just thinking about it. And wondering what you should do?

Yeah, wondering what to do about it. What he did was call his old college roommate, John Helsher, the man who, way back in 1993, told him a story about the murder of old man Bob. Tell me why you called John Helsher. To see if he remembered telling me the story he told me back all those years about the night that old man Bob was killed. And he did remember. And he did. He remembered it exactly on the phone as he did when he first told me the story. The story? That John Helser had been there when old man, Bob, was killed, had seen things, and never talked to police. And now? Once Kevin looked at the pictures of the higher brothers, brothers, he understood, clear as day, that John's story could expose a terrible injustice, if it was ever revealed, that is. So Kevin stood about it for a bit, talked to his wife, and took advice. We had no hesitation that we should do something with this. You're a lawyer, you know what to do with it, and just go ahead and do it. It's the right thing to do. So he boarded a plane for Detroit on his own dime time, and John faced down his fears, and both met with the lawyer who represented those imprisoned brothers.

We met at a restaurant in Gross Point, and we talked to the lawyer, and he didn't seem like he believed me too much. And I said, You know what? Give me a lie detector test. I'll take the test, and then we'll go from there. If you don't believe me, let's do this right now. Okay. A couple of weeks later, we ended up taking a lie detector test. It was one of the toughest things I've had to do when you're strapped up. That's weird, isn't it? I was just sweating buckets. And the polygrapher detected John Helser was being truthful. He passed with flying colors. Then, nothing. Neither Kevin nor John heard anything more from that lawyer. I just thought it got dropped. Wishing, Oh, good. It's not going to come back. That's it. And that would have been the end of it, most likely, had it not been for her. Over on the other side of Detroit, though John and Kevin couldn't possibly have known it, was a private investigator who, truth be told, had just about given up on the case of the Hyres brothers. We weren't getting anywhere. Private-eye Julian Cuneo had agreed to work the case for a fraction of her usual fee.

When the Hyres family begged her to find evidence of the boy's innocence, she tended to agree with them. But in her long search, she had been unable to find anyone or any facts that could challenge the story about old man Bob's murder that was told at the trial, which was this. Bob was home, and it was a Friday night. He's getting a lot of phone calls. There's a guy sitting in the kitchen, weighing out bags of weed. People are calling and saying, Hey, I'm going to be over. Here's what I'm going to want. Mostly people to come to the back door. An eyewitness to it all was sitting in his car out on the street. We built this animation to illustrate what he later told the police. About 9: 30, an Omni or Horizon, light in color, pulled up out front of his house, and two guys got out and walked up the driveway to the back door, and he hears shots fired, and shortly thereafter, he sees some guys hoofing down the driveway. They get back in the Omni Horizon and drive off. So this guy, the witness says, must have been them. Right.

Everybody assumes that the people running down the driveway shot him. Yes. The dealer, known as Old Man Bob was dead of a single gunshot wound to the chest. Detectives looked high and low for that getaway car. No luck. So the cops canvas the usual suspects, and bingo. A jailhouse informant named a possible shooter. Neighborhood kid named Tommy Hyers. What do you know? Tommy knew old man Bob, owed him money, used drugs, even told friends he was going to visit Bob that night. They prepared a lineup, but when they showed the pictures to that eyewitness, he didn't pick out Tommy. He pointed to Tommy's brother, Ray, told police he was positive, 100% sure Ray was one of the young men running down the driveway and hopping in the car after the murder. So both brothers were arrested and tried and convicted. And sitting in the courtroom, the aunt who would love them all their lives was devastated. I can't even imagine why they got life without parole, even without parole. This is aunt Jan Hearth. It was very hopeless. It was very hopeless. Did you believe that they would have done Never. I never believed it for one minute.

The family stuck by Tommy and Ray as the men watched their 20s and then their 30s come and go in state prison. And now, here they were in their mid-forties, still telling anybody and everybody, including us, that they did not kill old man Bob. I just walked with the faith and I was just like, This is not the end. The brothers had turned down any and all plea deals, determined instead to clear their names. They joined every prison program, took every class they could to improve themselves. We schooled ourselves. We always took any programs they had to offer. Both of you? Yeah, absolutely. Worked every day and just held our heads up. But to prove their innocence, they needed some solid new evidence. And by 2009, after 22 years, even their family had about given up on that. Had you actually gotten to the stage where you thought, Well, they'll be there for the rest of their lives? Nothing we can do about it? I did. To be honest, they did. And so, too, did the private eye. Julianne Cunio stopped working the case or tried to, but Tommy kept on calling. I'd be like, You can't keep calling me.

Then one day, I picked up the phone and it was Tommy again, and I just didn't have anything to do. I said, Fine, fine. This was purely to get Tommy off my back. I thought I was going to do a couple of things and I'd be done again. Yeah. I could get Tommy out of my life. So she picked up the phone, called Tommy's lawyer lawyer who sent her a copy of the affidavit, the sworn story told by, guess who? That old college roommate of Kevin's, John Helser, the one who claimed he was there at Old Man Bob's when the murder took place. And when the private eye read that... I got halfway through this thing and just went, Holy shit. Oh, my God. Coming up, a close encounter with killers. I'm dead. That's the first thing that came to my head. He's going to shoot me. But are they the same men serving life in prison for murder? I tell people it's the miracle of Facebook. When Dateland continues. I tell people it's the miracle of Facebook. Without Facebook, it wouldn't have happened. Detroit private eye Julian Cuneo had been baffled for years about the mystery surrounding the murder of Old Man Bob, the murder that put Tommy and Ray Hyres in prison for life.

And then out of the blue, late 2010, just because some woman had a moment of nostalgia and posted a casual note on Facebook, an affidavit landed on Julianne's desk from a man she never heard of, John Helshark. It had to be real. It had to be true. It's like a piece of heaven falling down and landing in your lap. John told Julianne what happened that awful night in the Detroit summer of 1987. It was party night, he said. John and his classmates had just graduated from Grosspoint North High School. Back to the suburb where the captains of industry lived, several miles and of tax brackets across the city line from Detroit. And after a few beers, the partiers decided to drive over and buy some marijuana from Old Man Bob. You just call up, say you're coming by, go to the back door. There. And that's what we were going to do that night. So John and four friends hopped in a car, which was, by the way, a white Plymouth Horizon, and drove over to make the buy. When they got there, they walked up the driveway to Bob's back door, just as that eyewitness this, later told the police.

Except for one detail, and it was a big one. The eyewitness identified the Hyres brothers as the young men he saw on the driveway. But, said John Helser, it wasn't them. It was him. He and one of his Grosspoint buddies went up that driveway. We made it to the back door, and as soon as we knocked on the door and he opened it, I heard commotion behind me, and we saw people jump over the fence coming towards us, and one with a gun leveled at us. We saw all the other people running towards Bob, especially a guy with a shotgun. I just remembered, I'm dead. That's the first thing that came to my head. He's going to shoot me. I froze. We froze. All he said was, Get the bleep out of here. We turned so fast and ran back to the car. I've never ran so fast in my life. As we were running back, they had heard the gunshot. I said, Get the hell out of here. And he breached the cars and got out of there as quick as we could. And after, the five returned to the graduation party. I was still freaking out.

We all were. People were wondering, What's the matter with you? What happened? Then someone told them what had happened, and part of the people, I don't believe you. They didn't believe us. But you were freaking out. Oh, yeah. I could have been killed that day. Came close. Came close. I had a gun pointed right to my face. Then when he went home, said John, he watched the news, read the papers and looked for news of the shooting but didn't see anything. Never did find out what happened to old man Bob. I didn't hear nothing of it. I didn't know if... I never saw him actually die. Yeah. So I didn't really know. So he said he just tried to forget it. He joined the army, served in the Persian Gulf, moved on with his life, and never told his soul apart from his girlfriend. And then what night in 1993, six years after the incident, he told Kevin Zalindusky. And it was one telling detail in John's story that Kevin never forgot. Those people who jumped over the fence, they weren't white kids. They were black. You had no idea that two men went to prison for this?

No, not until Kevin called me in 2009. Did you even know the Hyres brothers? I had no clue who they were. Never seen them in my life. Total strangers. Total strangers. And I said, This isn't right, because it involved a different race. It was not to white people. That piece of information, more than 20 years after the murder, was what Tommy and Ray and their family had about lost hope they would ever find. When I finally got the whole story, it was Damn. Somebody's seen it. Somebody knew. This all made sense. It was just a matter of mistaken identity. Absolutely. It just proves everything we've said and believed in for the last 25 years. John's story, which would have disappeared forever had it not been for Mary's Facebook post and Kevin's steel trap memory, now gave aunt Jan and all those who loved and believed in Tommy and Ray, new determination. The family brought in a whole new legal team with one goal: nail down the evidence, get the brothers out of prison, attorneys Jan Knapp and Valerie Newman. I thought this case should have never been charged. A mistake happened. A mistake happened, and it ended up with two men spending potentially the rest of their lives in prison.

Now, if only the team could find the other people who were in the car with John that night, and if they all told the same story, well, maybe then they'd have something. Coming up, after more than two decades, the moment of truth. Were you scared? I'm still scared. But will it make a difference? It was pins and needles. I mean, it was our life. This was it. This was it for sure. Private-eye Julian Cuneo and the others who joined her efforts for the Hyres brothers believe the newly discovered witness, John Helser, was telling the truth. Now, if they could only find those four high school friends Helser claimed were with him. Were with them the night when he and they took a trip to buy marijuana from a neighborhood drug dealer known as Old Man Bob, back in 1987, a trip that ended in gunfire. First, bad news. Julianne discovered the driver of the car died, but his family confirmed he drove a white Plymouth Horizon, the same type of car an eyewitness had seen fleeing the scene. And that was important to be able to make that connection. Right. Because the linchpin of all this is that these guys were in a white Omni, Omni or Horizon.

They're the same car, basically. And then, one by one, they did find them. The kids, now 40-somethings, who'd been in the car and heard the very same things John Helser told them. This man, John Corber, was riding in the front passenger seat, and he confirmed the story. You can just see it dawn on his face that two guys have been sitting in jail for nearly 25 years. The woman who was a high school senior was dating one of the men in the car, confirmed she saw it, too. So getting her to talk was no easy task. But none was more reluctant than that young man who walked up the drive to the back door with John Helser and then fled down again in terror when a shot was fired. Why wouldn't he talk about it? Pretty much all of our witnesses grew up in fairly wealthy, well-to-do families, and it seemed to be an embarrassment that they had gone into East Detroit to buy marijuana. For months, he'd only communicate through his sister and attorney. He refused to tell the investigators what he knew, seemed to go to great lengths to avoid their calls. He wanted no part of it, which I still really can't understand because it's not often that you get to be a hero.

Finally, what could the lawyers do? They subpoenaed him. It had to be done. We had two innocent men in prison. There was no choice. Finally, they all wound up right here, Detroit's Frank Murphy Hall of Justice, spring 2012. The lawyers appointed to represent the long-imprisoned brothers Tommy and Ray Hyres, had hoped to avoid this. They'd allow themselves to think the Wayne County DA's office might see the new evidence about the night old man Bob was killed, see that a mistake was made, and rectify it. But... We had a prosecutor's office that was very uncooperative in the face of overwhelming evidence of innocence. Did that surprise you? No. It's an amazing ability to blind yourself to everything except what you want to look at. All rise. Of course, that was a defense attorney's point of view. And so here they were in court to fight it out. Just getting this hearing took a year of their efforts, and persuading all those witnesses to testify about a moment in time so long ago was no less difficult. Knowing that, Tommy and Ray's family became a cheering section in court. We filled up the room and we wanted to show everybody that we were there to back them up, and we just wanted to be there for them.

All crowded the courtroom of Judge Lawrence Tallon, who would decide if the new evidence merited a new trial. All right. Want to bring them up? Finally, Tommy and Ray Hyres filed into court. The brothers who from day one insisted they were innocent, whose family never stopped believing in them, looking like just what they were, survivors of a quarter century in prison. It was pins and needles. I mean, it was our life. Because if he didn't believe what he was hearing, we were going right back to the statement. And there was never no more relief. Yeah, this was it. This was it for sure. Good morning, Your Honor. Valarie Newman, State Appellate Defender Office. When I got to the hearing, it was all-out warfare. All right. Do you make a call your first witness? The defense began laying out the strange tale from the start with Mary Evans and her 2009 Facebook post. Ms. Evans, why have you come forward in this case? On the streets, I always heard that hires didn't do it. Next, the DC lawyer who just happened to answer that post of Mary's. Would you please state your name for the record?

Kevin Zelenusky. On the stand, Kevin retold the story that John, the old roommate, told him way back in 1993. He made a comment to the effect that while you wouldn't believe what happened that night. And so said Kevin, he felt a duty to step in. And why are you here today? Two innocent people are in prison for life. I learned information that could help set them free, and I felt compelled to bring that information forward. Then one by one, the witnesses, the now 40-somethings who told the court about that night outside old man Bob's house, where they'd gone to buy marijuana for their graduation party, and that it was their friends, not the Hyres brothers, who came running down the driveway. And how did they look when they got in the car? Terrified. Why are you coming forward? Two minutes is too long in prison, let alone 20 some years. Even the reluctant witness, the one they had to subpoena to get to court, confirmed all of it, as did the man who threw the graduation party that night. He was very forthcoming and said, Sure I remember that day. They pulled up. They were a wreck, and they told me what happened.

And you just don't forget something like that. And finally, the man who's comments to his roommate nearly two decades earlier kept the old story alive. 5. Principal, John Helser. What was it like the process of testifying at this hearing? I've been to combat. I've jumped out of planes, and that was the toughest thing I had to do. John Helser, who was horrified he never found out for certain that Old Man Bob was murdered, told the story he'd never before publicly discussed, complete with what he heard and saw after walking up to Old Man Bob's back door. I heard commotion coming from the alley behind Bob's house. I saw four African-American males hopping over the chain link fence from the alley, and they were running towards the house. Okay, then what happened next? I saw a larger African-American male with what appeared to be a shotgun. Then I saw another African-American male with a handgun and told us to get the out of there. What did you do then? Proceeded to turn around and run as fast as I could. Did you hear anything? As I was turning to run, I did hear a gunshot. Were you scared?

I'm still scared. Have you ever been afraid like that after that? When I was in combat. Are you telling the truth? Yes, ma'am. Why are you Because there's two innocent people that are not going to get this-Projection. But then it was Anna Quiro's turn. The Wayne County Assistant Prosecutor made it perfectly clear she didn't believe all those new witnesses coming forward to tell the story. Or what they said in their sworn statements, which she picked apart word by word. No, ma'am, that's not correct. Oh, it's not correct. So your affidavit is wrong? The assistant prosecutor went methodically through the testimony of each witness and suggested, sometimes gently, sometimes not, that they were all lying had concocted the whole story to help free Tommy and Ray hires. Aren't they friends with you on Facebook? My understanding is that-No, no, listen to my question. Aren't they friends with you on Facebook? Yes or no? Well, I would say no. But, said Tommy and Ray's attorneys, it was the assistant prosecutor who concocted a story. The prosecution had nothing to contradict our theory, just absolutely nothing. And so when you have nothing, you concoct something. And so what they concocted was a grand conspiracy theory.

Did that surprise you? It did. To have people who are unconnected to the defendants to come together in this huge conspiracy to cook something up doesn't make sense. But in the end, it was up to the judge to decide if the new evidence was cooked up, as the prosecutor claimed, or compelling enough to give the Hyres Brothers their first shot at freedom in 25 years. Coming up. I'm thinking, Oh, my God, we're losing. Oh, my God, we're winning. Oh, my God, we're losing. The judge rules. Will the Hyres Brothers get a second chance? We'll fight and we'll face whatever has to come. When Dateland continues. By the summer of 2012, 2012, Tommy and Ray Hyres had been fighting to clear their names for 25 years. Now, Judge Lawrence Tallen had heard all the new evidence. This was the moment. This is the court's decision on the defendant's motion for relief from judgment. But with all the history, the legalese, the new evidence, the witnesses. The prosecution was meticulous in pointing out inconsistencies and differences between testimony and- It took the judge two full hours to explain the basis for his decision. The reasons, he said, he had no choice but to rule a particular way.

Oh, my nerves were shaken. As Tommy and Ray, their courtroom full of family and friends and attorneys, agonized. Some felt almost ill. Just sitting through the ruling almost killed me. I'm thinking, Oh, my God, we're losing. Oh, my God, we're losing. Oh, my God, we're winning. Oh, my God, we're losing. Until the judge finally said the words. This evidence meets all the requirements for this court to grant the requested relief by the defendant. Wait, just fell off my shoulders. It was just, Oh, finally. Thank you. Thank you. Everybody was hugging, and it was just a joyous scene. You would think, looking at this, that Tommy and Ray Hyres had just been declared innocent of the murder of Old Man Barr. But that is not what happened. Not even two weeks later, when the judge decided to release the brothers on bond to away trial. And Tommy and Raymond Hyres walked out of jail for the first time in more than 25 years. It certainly felt like victory, looked like victory. It was like someone had hit a grand slam at the ballpark. Sweetie. Oh, my God. Oh, man. Hell, yeah. He's my wonderful attorney. I'm telling you now.

I'm telling you now. Hey, she is the mom. But Tommy and Ray Hyres were merely men on bail, awaiting trial for murder. A trial the prosecution gave every indication It was especially determined to win, and thus sent these two men right back where they came from, state prison. What's it like to be sitting here talking about what's happened to you? You can't even put it into words, the feelings that go through you. Which gave us a chance to talk to them as they prepared for their biggest fight yet for exoneration, and they hoped permanent freedom. We'll fight and we'll face whatever has to come. Here they told us their version of what happened the The night old man Bob was killed. We got involved in things we shouldn't have been right. Drugs. That was the main thing. At that night, June 26, 1987, the brothers did indeed go over to Bob's house. They said, saw the police were there and assumed... We figured he was being raided. That's exactly what we thought, that he was being raided. Never even stopped. There was so much police out there that we just kept going. And never occurred to us that he was murdered.

A week later, they were under arrest. Walked in there and never walked out. They were 21 and 22 when they went in, but now they said they are not the same men as they were then, and that that is a good thing. I'm not ashamed of being in prison because prison made them. That's who I am today. Prison made this man, my morals, my integrity. I mean, in a way, a positive experience, and yet one, you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. Right, exactly. You still hold on to the light, and you just push forward every day. What's on the agenda today, guys? After their release, they moved in with their aunt Jan and wore electronic tethers to monitor their whereabouts mandated by the court. They were like Rip Van Winckels, awakened to the real world, learning to use cell phones, getting their driver's licenses. I'm waiting to get that all my life. First one I've ever had. And getting up in the morning and going to work. Ray at an industrial heating and Cooling Company, Tommy, head of maintenance at an apartment complex. And at the very same time, the Wayne County Prosecutor's office was preparing its case against them to put them back into prison for life, preparing it as we sat here talking.

Though, as the brothers told us here, the DA has put an offer on the table. They can keep their freedom if they agree to one condition. What plea are they offering? For us, it's just to plea guilty and we'd get time served. Would No. We stood on our innocence and we screamed it to the top of our lungs for 25 years. Then for the people that got behind us and believed in us, for us to do that would just be like a slap in their face, and then it would just tear my integrity right out of my body. So we're innocent, and nothing's going to change that. There will be people in the audience who will still believe you did it. Sure. I mean, You can't convince everybody. You're used to that now. Sure. But all we want to do is convince 12. Those 12 would be the jurors sitting in judgment at their upcoming retrial for murder. Tommy and Ray Hyres were going back to court to see if free men they would remain. Coming up, a courtroom game of chicken. Who blinked first? It was really disingenuous. Disingenuous is such a polite word.

What does it really mean? It means they were saving face. The Hall of Justice was waiting again for Tommy and Ray Hyres, the very place they were sent away in the first place. I hate going into the courtroom. I hate going to the courthouse. I hate parking in the parking lot to get to the courthouse. You know what I mean? It's like, I just... But it's something that we got to deal with, and it's going to be head-on. As we talked two weeks before the scheduled start of their trial, the Wayne County Prosecutor's office was forging ahead, once again charging the brother with the murder of Robert Cary, old man Bob. How nervous are you about this? Of course, you're going to be nervous. I mean, your lives are in other people's hands still. For the past several months, Tommy and Ray's defense attorneys had been attending pretrial hearings, sending motions back and forth, as lawyers do, all the while hoping the DA would come to see it their way and simply drop the charges. I was confident that it was a game of chicken because they had no evidence. But with each legal step in the march towards trial, they were disappointed.

The DA, it seemed perfectly clear, was very serious. All rise. Then, just a few days after our interview with the brothers, September 2013, everyone assembled in the courtroom. Assistant prosecutor, Reynolds, had something to say. Your Honor, at this time, based on consultation with prosecutor worthy, based on communications with the decedent's family, based on a recognition of what 26 years can do to the triability of a case. We would move to dismiss the case against the defendants at this point in time. And that was it. Case dismissed. No new trial. It's not often you get to give somebody their lives back. And that's what we did. We gave them their lives back. It was incredible. It was incredible. But before they all left the courtroom, the prosecutor pointedly reserved the right to refile murder charges if new evidence ever surfaces. Are you going to allow this to hang over your head for the rest of your life? Absolutely not. I mean, in the last year, we haven't allowed it to hang over our heads. We moved on. We've moved on in life, and we're going to continue to do But Wayne County prosecutor, Kim worthy, who declined Dateland's request for an interview, took a parting shot at the brothers, issued a statement saying, Just as we did 26 years ago, we firmly believe in the evidence in this case.

We have worked diligently to bring this case to trial. With the passage of time, it is an unfortunate reality that this case cannot be put back together, and we must dismiss it. Sadly, in this case, justice was not done. Done. Really? Is that the people who freed Tommy and Ray? It was really disingenuous. It was not right. Disingenuous is such a polite word. What does it really mean? It means they were saving face. It puts a stain on them that they don't deserve. They already have the stain of 25 years in prison for a crime they didn't commit. And then you have the prosecutor's office saying, Yeah, right. Like, We still think they're galate. In 2016, Michigan lawmakers passed the wrongful Imprisonment Compensation Act, calling for the state to pay exonerated prisoners $50,000 for every year spent behind bars. The higher brothers sued the state for just over $1. 2 million each. And in October 2019, the Michigan Attorney General's office settled the suit, agreeing to pay the full amount. Of course, in the days immediately following their release, nothing could compare to the chance to celebrate with the people who helped make it happen.

Like Mary, whose Facebook post started everything. Could you ever imagine you would actually cause such a thing? No, not in a million years. It's hard to get my head around it. It's just an awesome feeling. Sure. Kevin, who still shies away from taking credit. I happened to be a lawyer. It doesn't really seem that extraordinary to me. And John Helser, who can finally put the past where it belongs, behind him. It's like I told him, I said, I just wish I could have done something earlier. You wouldn't have had to sit there for so many years. Tommy looked at me, gave me a hug, and he says, It's the way it was supposed to happen. It had to happen like this. Yeah. They don't seem bitter at all. Not when I met them, just glad they're home and they're out and they're free. Free men who know none of it would have happened without family and friends, that dream team of lawyers and investigators, and of course, Facebook. What would you like to say to those people who helped you along the way? Thank you from the bottom of my heart for believing, understanding, and taking the time that most people don't do.

It's like a dream come true for us because it's what we always been hoping for. Somebody to help us. That's why we just want to live and move forward. We know it's gone. It's the past. Move on. Better days. So they've profoundly wished. But even life regained from injustice is not always fair. In November 2021, Tommy Hyres died of a heart attack. His brother Ray tried to go on, but could not face life without Tommy. And in April 2024, he took his own. That's all for now. I'm Lester Holt. Thanks for joining us.