Exclusive investigation reveals dozens find their way from Death Row to freedom
Duane Pohlman, WEWS 5, May 24, 2010

KILLING A COP BRINGS DEATH PENALTY, THEN BREAK

CLEVELAND - On November 10 1975, Sgt. Detective William “Bill” Prochazka walked in to a paint store in Bedford Heights to show mug shots to the employees. The store had been hit by a rash of recent robberies. Sgt. Prochazka had no idea the robbers had returned and were holding 11 hostages in the back. When he opened a folding door to the back, he was shot through the neck; the bullet severed his spinal cord.

"They executed him,” said Sgt Prochazka’s son, Bob Prochazka, now a police officer in Willowick. He was just 9, returning on the bus from school, when his mom told him his dad had been killed.

"I walked in and my mom was standing there and she said, 'your dad was killed at work today,'" Prochazka recalled.

Police tracked down four men following the shooting. George Clayton, Dwain Farrow, Duran Harris and Michael Manns were found guilty for their roles in the murder of Sgt. Prochazka and quickly sentenced to death.

But two years later, the U.S. Supreme Court overturned the decision and ruled the death penalty unconstitutional. The four men who played a role in killing Officer Prochazka’s father were transferred off of death row. Ohio commuted their sentences to life in prison.

"They received one hell of a break when it was commuted to life in prison,” Officer Prochazka said. “At least, my mom thought, Hey! They're going to spend the rest of their lives behind bars!"

ANOTHER BREAK: FREEDOM

Duran Harris drove the get away car the day Sgt. Detective Prochazka was gunned down.

He and the others had faced death, then the prospect of spending the rest of their lives behind bars.

But in 2003, Ohio’s Parole Board granted him what was once unthinkable: freedom.

Officer Prochazka said his family was never notified of the hearing in 2003, when Harris was granted his parole.

Harris quietly reentered the world, buying a house on the East side of Cleveland.

But the biggest surprise is where Harris now works: The City of Cleveland.

Harris works at the “Employment Connection” helping ex-cons get jobs when they’re released from prison.

We repeatedly tried to talk with Harris at his home and where he works, but he avoided us, telling us over the phone that he didn’t want to “mess up the timing for the other three” inmates who murdered Sgt. Prochazka.

HARRIS NOT ALONE ON JOURNEY FROM DEATH ROW TO FREEDOM

Duran Harris is far from alone on his journey from Death Row to freedom.

"Oh! It happens a lot," said Bret Vinocur, who runs blockparole.com , a website dedicated to keeping tabs on inmates up for parole.

For five years, Vinocur has spent exhaustive time tracking former death row inmates from the 1970s. He has confirmed 34 paroles of those who were once facing death.

Vinocur is visibly angry about the releases.

"It's unacceptable. It's appalling. It's disgusting,” Vinocur said.

TRAIL OF MORE VIOLENT CRIME

While Duran Harris has kept his record clean since release, plenty of other former-death row inmates who have been paroled have gone back to a life of violent crime.

"If it wasn't for divine providence, or luck, or whatever you want to call it, I would have been dead right over there," Bill Bedford said, pointing to a now abandoned building near downtown Columbus.

In the '70s, it was a bank where Bedford, a now retired Columbus Police Officer, was working security.

On a cold November day, Officer Bedford spotted Anthony Nesbitt, a former death row inmate who had just been released from prison. Before Bedford could react, Nesbitt had drawn a weapon on him and fired.

Officer Bedford was struck in his arm, a less serious injury that resulted from his instinct to try and jump out of the way. "He tried to execute me," Bedford recalled, “What did he have to lose? They didn't execute him the first time."

Bedford hit the floor and came up firing. His bullet found their mark five times. Nesbitt lay bleeding at the entrance of the bank, with Bedford, bleeding himself, holding a gun on him until help arrived.

Bedford, who now lives in Texas said he is still stunned that a former death row inmate was let out.

“Just because of a legal loophole, they turned him loose," Bedford said.

Anthony Nesbitt was sentenced to another life term after being found guilty of shooting Officer Bedford. He is up for parole again next year.

FIGHT TO STOP THE RELEASES

Back in Northeast Ohio, Sgt. Detective William “Bill” Prochazka’s memory lives on in hallway plaques and memorial gardens and in a son, who vows to fight any more quiet releases of those who want a path from death row to freedom.

"As long as I'm walking and talking, they're going to have a fight from me," said Prochazka.