Nick Gady

There's no incentive for Jeff Wallace to say a word, no framework for prosecutors to voice doubt, or space for regrets to count.

And yet, Jeff Wallace still chose to speak up when he didn't have to say anything at all.

In this project, we tried to answer the question of how an innocent man ended up on death row.

We laid bare an investigation that was rushed to conclusion by tunnel vision and pressure to convict someone, anyone, for the murder of a deputy sheriff.

This case shows us how young, marginalized people like Yolanda Chambers can be exploited and how money is wielded as an incentive for vulnerable people to become ensnared with law enforcement.

It also demonstrates the terrible consequences for people who can't afford to pay for the best criminal defense.

So far, the courts have said there was nothing illegal about what the state did, presenting five different theories about who committed the murder and paying the key witness behind closed doors, only admitting to this payment 17 years later.

This is how our system works.

According to the courts that have examined DeForest Johnson's conviction, it's not broken.

It's working exactly as designed.

Former Attorney General Bill Baxley,

Richard Jaffe, who represented Ardragus Ford.

After Jaffe's client, Ardragus Ford, was acquitted, he lived a quiet life, mostly in Atlanta.

His mother, Joyce Ford, said to Forrest's conviction weighed on her son.

Ardragus died from health issues in 2021.

His mom, Joyce Ford, died less than a year after we recorded this interview.

I've been reporting onto Forrest's case since 2019.

I've interviewed dozens of people, but the one person I'd still most like to talk to is the very person I can't reach.

Alabama's prison system doesn't allow people on death row to talk to journalists.

Taforist's family has shared dozens of digital photos with me that I've kept in a folder on my laptop.