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Temujin Kensu
Filmmakers document
Freeman's struggle
By JOSEPH DEINLEIN, Times
Herald, December 11, 2004
Dean Mongan has been working
for four years to find out whether Frederick Freeman really killed
Scott Macklem in the parking lot of St. Clair County Community
College 18 years ago.
Mongan, a cinematographer,
along with California screenwriter and director Joe Viola, has
spent years conducting interviews in and around Port Huron looking
at the case. They're in town through Wednesday shooting more
interviews and taking shots on the SC4 campus for a documentary.
Mongan, originally from Milford,
learned about the case four years ago and made a short film about
it using lawyer interviews.
He and Viola are convinced
Freeman, who now uses the Buddhist name Temujin Kensu, is innocent.
Freeman was convicted 17 years ago in the 1986 killing of Macklem
and has maintained his innocence. An appeal hearing on his case
is scheduled Monday in St. Clair County Circuit Court.
"The man is stone innocent,
and he was lynched," said Viola, who wrote and directed
the 1997 movie Subway Stories, plus other movies and dramatic
television.
Not everyone is convinced.
Troy Brast, 37, of Marysville was friends with Macklem. He said
the case against Freeman was open and shut. "I'm not too
thrilled his mom and dad have to go through this again,"
he said.
The pair has interviewed Port
Huron and St. Clair County police officers and administrators,
witnesses and others involved in the case.
Viola said the work has been
tough because many are convinced of Freeman's guilt. "I
believe there has been an enormous amount of misspent energy
in local rank-closing over what happened," he said.
Contact Joseph Deinlein at
(810) 989-6272 or jdeinlein(at)gannett.com.
BAND PERFORMANCE
Detroit band High Water
has written a song about the Freeman case called Remove Me and
will sing it tonight at Military Street Music Café, 1102
Military St., Port Huron. Several bands are scheduled to perform
beginning at 9 p.m. Cover is $3. Filmmakers Dean Mongan and Joe
Viola said they plan to film part of the show for their documentary
about the case.
THE STORY OF
AN INNOCENT MAN August 15th, 2K
Dear Reader,
Please read this and if you feel moved in conscience to act,
as I and others have, then do so. I became acquainted with Temujin
through religious activities about four years ago. Here is why
I think he is innocent.
Temujin Kensu was convicted for the slaying of Scott
Macklem. Macklem was killed with a shotgun, Wednesday, November
5, 1986, around 9 am in the parking lot of St. Clair Community
College, Port Huron, Michigan. At the time of his original trial
Temujin was known as Fredrick T. Freeman He changed his name
for religious reasons while in prison. For brevity, we will refer
to him as TK.
Here is a summary of the reasons why many of us believe
in his innocence:
1. Numerous witnesses place
him in Escanaba, MI at the time of the murder in Port Huron,
MI. They are more than 400 miles apart.
2. The primary witness against him, Philip Joplin, confessed
on television, to having lied on the stand. He was moved from
Jackson Prison to a halfway house for his cooperation.
3. TK requested but was denied a polygraph examination at the
time of his arrest. Later in prison, he was given one by a recognized
expert and passed with flying colors.
4. His court appointed defense attorney, David M. Dean, a former
assistant prosecutor, had been busted for alcohol and cocaine
abuse. This behavior was known to the judge and prosecutor. Dean
dissuaded TK from testifying in his own defense.
5. The victim was murdered with a shotgun, an unlikely weapon
for a man the authorities dubbed the "Ninja killer".
The weapon was never found nor a shotgun tied to TK.
6. The jury was not allowed to know that a prosecution witness,
Rene Gobeyn, had been hypnotized to secure an identification.
7. Other witnesses identified another man during a lineup, a
James Loxton.
8. The person he was with, in Escanaba, at the time of the murder
was Michelle W. She was terrified by police and fled before the
trial, fearing for her unborn child.
9. TK had no motive to kill Mr. Macklem and did not know him.
10. His accuser was a former girlfriend, Crystal Merrill. She
admitted to not having seen him for several months. With no admitted
knowledge of the crime, she testified that she "thought"
TK had committed it. She also claimed he was able to read her
mind and made other ridiculous statements of supposed Ninja abilities.
From the beginning, police focused on TK. No one
else was investigated even though witnesses saw a woman get into
the car in front of the victim's and leave right after the shot.
Three cars were seen to leave the parking lot and no positive
identifications could be made. The victim was known to have encounters
with two men (not TK) who would seek him out at work and argue
with him there. At school, the victim was failing, mostly due
to lack of attendance and drug use was suspected. The crime scene
was not secured. Fingerprints found on shot shell casings from
the scene were not the defendant's.
When TK first heard that the police were looking
for him, he was misinformed that his best friend had died. He
called his old girlfriend, Crystal. During that call, the cops
traced his location and arrested him. He was arrested without
incident and spoke freely with officers. He requested a lie detector
test, which was denied him. In jail, police steered him to a
public defender , David Dean. Dean had been busted for snorting
coke in front of an Ohio Deputy Sheriff. He was placed on probation
under the same judge who presided over TK's trial. TK was something
of a drifter and ladies man up to this point. He had a run in
with the law in Washington State for some bad checks (overdrawn
account). Nothing prepared him for this. He was broke and without
guidance, he had little choice but to accept the advice the police
gave him. He was unaware of Dean's severe drug problem and nobody
was about to clue him in. None of his witnesses were called at
the pretrial. He was told it was to expensive to bring them down.
A snitch , Philip Joplin, was placed in his cell and testified
that TK had confessed to him. He was let out of Jackson Prison,
the worst in Michigan, and sent to a halfway house for his cooperation.
Joplin recanted to a television journalist, Bill Proctor, when
he knew he was about to die from medical problems.
The prosecutor was running for election to a state
office. During the trial the story appeared in front page headlines
every day. TK was billed as the"Ninja Killer" and was
credited with almost superhuman powers. To hype the show, he
had TK brought to court in prison clothes and manacles, across
a public parking lot in full view of the press and jury. He displayed
and made frequent reference to firearms from the police locker
as being "possibly like the murder weapon". He had
on the same table, in full view of the jury, martial arts paraphernalia
and porno magazines. These did not belong to TK. Yet the prosecutor
would handle them as if they had some meaning other than props
in a show.
His primary witness was Michelle W, but she had
been frightened away by police. They had lived together in Port
Huron area, when he had the brief affair with Crystal. They moved
to the UP (Michigan's Upper Penninsula) many months before the
murder. Michelle was pregnant with TK's son and they were happy
about it. After his arrest, she was the subject of unabated harassment
by the police. She was told that she could be implicated as an
accomplice. They threatened her that she would deliver her baby
in prison and would never see it. Nonetheless, she moved back
to the Port Huron area, to stay closer. The harassment eventually
became too much. Terrified, she fled to her family in Florida.
She would not be there to testify that TK was in bed with her
at the time of the murder in their home in the UP. She now stands
ready to do so. Other witnesses appeared in his behalf, all substantial
citizens of Escanaba. They had not known him for more than a
few months, but recognized him in a variety of scenes from the
days before, of and after the crime. The prosecutor attacked
the veracity of each. TK told his lawyer he had to take the stand.
Dean refused him and steadfastly argued against TK's insistence.
When he asked the judge to intervene he was told to listen to
his lawyer. Inexperienced and without true guidance, he gave
in to Dean. That decision may have cost him his freedom.
One huge point stood between the prosecutor and
his victory, the distance. The Escanaba witnesses were too many
for the jury to convict beyond a reasonable doubt. To overcome
this, the prosecutor theorized that TK had taken an aircraft
from the UP to Port Huron. This is a distance of 460 miles. Since
highly credible witnesses placed TK in the UP two hours after
the murder occurred, there had to be a way he could have done
it. Although no aircraft or flight log was ever specified, the
prosecutor told the jury that TK could still be guilty. The jury
was shown pictures of propeller driven aircraft and told of pilots
at the local airport just waiting to pick up a few extra dollars.
Improbable as it was, the judge allowed it, the defense attorney
did not counter it and the jury bought it. Not initially though;
on the Friday after summations, the jury stood at 8 to 4 for
acquittal. They were allowed to go home in a climate of media
frenzy. Heat was cited as the reason. After a weekend at home,
they returned a conviction. What made them change their minds?
We may never know. One juror said, "His alibi was too perfect."
Another said, "His attorney looked like such a sleaze bag,
I figured he must be guilty".
The prosecutor is now a Federal judge, his lawyer
has since had his law license suspended. He was ruled an ineffective
and incompetent attorney for another case in this same time period.
(That defendant was freed.) TK's appeals have been stonewalled.
He was told, in an appeal before the same judge, that his attorney
was competent. His case has been pushed far behind those of others
on the docket and the interference is suspected. Had TK folded
and confessed to a crime he did not commit, he would have been
paroled by now. TK has been moved around various prisons in the
Michigan correctional system for the last thirteen years. He
has been stabbed twice and has had to fight for his life. He
has experienced the worst that prison has to offer. His size
and martial arts abilities have kept him alive. His insistence
upon his right to meditate has landed him in solitary, but that
meditation has kept him from succumbing to the degradation that
is prison for an innocent man.
We are all aware that justice is, by its nature,
less than perfect. We are also aware that Mr Kensu was not a
model citizen at the time. However, there is no longer any justification
for prolonging his incarceration without the deepest enquiry
into the case.
Here is how you can help
him. Please contact:
The Honorable Jennifer Granholm
Governor of Michigan
P.O. Box 30013
Lansing, Michigan 48909
Dear Madam,
Phone 517-373-3400
FAX 517-335-6863
website: www.state.mi.us/migov/
The Honorable Mike Cox
Attorney General of Michigan
P.O.Box 32012
Lansing, Michigan 48909
Dear Sir,
Phone 517-373-1110
FAX 517-373-3042
e-mail: miag@ag.state.mi.us
Letters should be polite and
to the point. This man should get a new trial or a pardon.
Contact media representatives and ask them to help to spread
the story.
Officials tend to listen to the biggest noise.
Temujin would be happy to hear
from you. Please write to him at:
Temujin Kensu
189355
19522 Boyer Road
Carson City, MI 48811
from Mike Mongan's website
TIME LINE: SCOTT MACKLEM
MURDER
Nov. 5, 1986: Scott Macklem,
20, of Croswell is murdered as he steps out of his car at St.
Clair County Community College in Port Huron. Frederick Thomas
Freeman becomes a suspect after a witness identifies his car
and Macklem's friends say he threatened the victim.
Nov. 14, 1986: Frederick Thomas
Freeman is arrested in Troy. He is charged with first-degree
murder.
April 28, 1987: Freeman's murder
case goes to trial before St. Clair County Circuit Judge James
Corden.
May 15, 1987: A St. Clair County
jury begins deliberating the case.
May 19, 1987: The jury finds
Freeman guilty of first-degree murder. Five votes were taken
before a unanimous verdict was reached.
Aug. 3, 1987: Freeman is sentenced
to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
Sept. 13, 1993: The state Court
of Appeals denies Freeman's appeal, affirming the original verdict
and sentence. The state Supreme Court later declines to hear
the case.
Oct. 1, 2004: A lawyer files
a motion before St. Clair County Circuit Judge James Adair requesting
a new trial for Freeman. The extensive motion makes several claims,
including that Freeman's first lawyer was abusing drugs during
the 1987 trial and that someone has come forward to identify
a new suspect in the Macklem shooting.
Dec. 13, 2004: Adair hears
oral arguments on the motion and takes the matter under advisement.
He has yet to issue an opinion on the motion.
- Manipulator or martyr?
While Freeman's friends fight for retrial, his ex-lawyer's verdict:
Guilty
By ANGELA MULLINS, Times
Herald, January 2, 2005
To some, Fred Freeman is a
controlling, calculating, cold-blooded killer, who, in 1986,
gunned down a St. Clair County Community College student.
To others, he's the victim
of a corrupt police investigation, a drug-addicted defense lawyer
and of a trial during which prosecutors wrongly portrayed him
as a deranged, obsessive "ninja killer."
No weapon ever was found, his
supporters have pointed out.
No one can positively identify
Freeman, then 23, as the man who pulled the trigger on the shotgun
that killed Scott Macklem as he stepped out of his car in an
SC4 parking lot in Port Huron, they say.
Plus several people say they
saw Freeman, who now uses the Buddhist name Temujin Kensu, in
the Escanaba area -- about 440 miles from Port Huron -- shortly
after Macklem was gunned down.
But those facts didn't convince
a St. Clair County jury in 1987 to let Freeman walk on a first-degree
murder charge.
And prosecutors said the facts
are no more relevant today than they were 17 years ago when Freeman
was sentenced to life in prison in the shooting of Macklem, the
fiancé of Freeman's ex-lover.
Both sides are waiting for
St. Clair County Circuit Judge James Adair to issue a ruling
on what Freeman's supporters say is evidence compelling enough
to warrant a new trial.
The ruling could breathe new
life into the case, which arguably is getting more attention
today than it did 18 years ago.
It's a chance, said Freeman's
wife, for nearly 20 years of wrongdoing to be corrected.
A chance that could be Freeman's
last.
"I don't know when it
turned wrong or why it turned wrong, but it did," Amiko
Kensu said at her Swartz Creek home.
She married Freeman in 2000
while he was a prisoner at the Thumb Correctional Facility in
Lapeer. He's now at the G. Robert Cotton Correctional Facility
in Jackson.
"He's on pins and needles
right now, waiting on the other shoe to drop," she said.
The Macklem family has declined
to comment on the case.
Nov. 5, 1986, Macklem, 20,
son of then-Croswell mayor Gary Macklem, was getting out of his
car at 8:55 a.m. in an SC4 parking lot when a car pulled up behind
him and a shotgun blast hit him in his lower back.
Freeman said at that time he
was just getting out of bed at his home in Rock, just north of
Escanaba in the Upper Peninsula, with the 19-year-old girl with
whom he then lived, according to Amiko Kensu.
Macklem's body was found by
another student at 8:58 a.m., police at the time said. He later
died at Port Huron Hospital.
Several SC4 students heard
the gunshot and at least one person reported seeing a small compact
car driven by a man in Army fatigues and a ski mask speed out
of the parking lot where Macklem was shot. At least one witness
later identified Freeman as the man in the car.
By Nov. 6, 1986, police had
developed a strong lead, and Freeman had been identified as the
prime suspect.
Macklem had told friends weeks
before the shooting that his life had been threatened.
"He was told to leave
and stop seeing his fiancée," Port Huron police Sgt.
John Bowns said at the time.
Police believed it was Freeman
-- described by some in police reports and court testimony as
controlling -- who made those threats and then followed through
after Macklem continued to see his ex-lover.
A police search for Freeman
began. He was arrested Nov. 14 in a Troy doughnut shop after
police traced a phone call he made to family members of Macklem's
fiancée.
Freeman was charged the same
day with first-degree murder.
Trial
Freeman had several witnesses
who testified they saw him in Escanaba the day Macklem was killed.
But prosecutors had more convincing
witnesses.
Some testified Freeman was
obsessed with Macklem's fiancée, Crystal Merrill.
Merrill testified Freeman had
threatened to "put a contract" out on Macklem.
All in all, the 12 jurors who
would decide the case after a nearly monthlong trial were painted
a picture of Freeman that showed deep character flaws. He had
a criminal history, could be violent and had an extensive martial
arts background.
The prosecution had two other
key selling points for the case:
A St. Clair County Jail inmate
would testify Freeman admitted to the murder.
Alibi witnesses placing Freeman
in Escanaba on Nov. 5 could very well be telling the truth but
Freeman could have chartered a plane, flown to Port Huron to
murder Macklem and then returned home the same day. That could
be done in 90 to 100 minutes in a small plane, a pilot testified.
It's what many of Freeman's
supporters refer to with disgust as the "charter plane theory."
Not logical, they say, for
a man who barely was supporting himself.
Then-St. Clair County Prosecutor
Robert Cleland, now a federal district judge, has refused to
comment on the case.
Freeman never took the stand
to testify.
Today, supporters say David
Dean, the defense lawyer in the 1987 trial, wouldn't let him.
Dean says it was Freeman who
decided not to testify because he didn't want his character open
for attack.
The teenage girl with whom
Freeman said he was at home when Macklem was killed did not testify,
either. She fled, some say, from fear of police retaliation.
Regardless, jurors convicted
Freeman after about three days of deliberation.
It took five votes -- 6 to
6; 7 to 5 for guilty; 8 to 4 for guilty; 10 to 2 for guilty;
and 12-0 for guilty -- to get a conviction.
Freeman was sentenced Aug.
3, 1987, to life in prison.
Aftermath
Although Freeman has been behind
bars in prison cells throughout Michigan since 1987, he has continued
to proclaim his innocence despite a failed appeal to the Michigan
Court of Appeals and a denied request to present the case to
the state Supreme Court.
He's gotten support from private
investigators -- including a retired FBI investigator -- lawyers
and others, all who say the wrong man is serving time for Macklem's
death.
A California filmmaker is making
a documentary about Freeman's struggle for freedom.
Freeman's story has made headlines
in several Michigan newspapers in recent months and was used
as a case study for a media program at Michigan State University
in East Lansing.
Supporters say years of dogged
research are paying off. They've finally made enough progress
in the case to ask for a new trial or at least a hearing to present
new evidence before a judge.
In October, retired Lansing
lawyer Jonathan Maire filed a 170-page brief in St. Clair County
Circuit Court asking Freeman's case be revisited.
Maire, who got involved in
the case nearly 10 years ago after receiving a letter from Freeman,
said it's a last-ditch effort for Freeman to get the trial he's
always deserved. He believes enough new evidence has come forward
to warrant reconsidering facts surrounding the 1986 murder case.
Oral arguments within the brief
were presented during a Dec. 13 hearing before Judge Adair. He
has yet to rule on the motion.
"The law enforcement people
concluded that Freeman did it and they didn't really look at
any other possibility," Maire said. "Everything I've
looked at in this case tells me he's innocent."
Key to Maire's position are
three arguments:
The jailhouse snitch who testified
in 1987 that Freeman had admitted to murdering Macklem later
said he lied on the witness stand.
Another prisoner in August
told a private investigator that a man he knew once mentioned
killing the son or daughter of the Croswell mayor over a girl.
Dean, Freeman's lawyer for
the 1987 trial, was abusing drugs and provided ineffective counsel.
He didn't object to many portions of the trial, including the
presentation of Freeman as a "ninja killer."
Dean admits he had a drug-abuse
problem and may have been using drugs outside the courtroom during
the trial.
And despite having represented
Freeman, Dean said he believes the man is guilty -- a fact he
realized, he said, during the trial.
"(Freeman) cannot ever
prove (that my drug and alcohol abuse) had anything to do with
him being convicted of killing that man," said Dean, who
no longer is practicing law and lives in Stuart, Fla.
"It's a man reaching for
straws. (Freeman's) a desperate, calculated, cold-blooded killer."
Prosecutors handling the case
today agree.
Freeman's charisma and ability
to attract supporters aside, the right man was arrested in 1986
and the right man is serving a prison sentence today, they say.
Plus, the prisoner who has
identified "a new suspect" is not a credible witness,
they say.
"(Freeman's) tried everything
and now this," Tim Morris, chief of appeals for the St.
Clair County Prosecutor's Office, said last month.
"They haven't produced
anything new."
Contact Angela Mullins at
(810) 989-6270 or amullins@gannett.com.
Convict says he's no angel,
no killer
BY AMBER HUNT MARTIN, FREE
PRESS STAFF WRITER, December 13, 2004
From a guarded conference room
inside the prison he calls home, Temujin Kensu admitted he was
a criminal in his youth.
He wrote bad checks, got in
fistfights and used aliases to shake police off his tail.
He wasn't a particularly good
man, either: While his live-in girlfriend was pregnant, he regularly
had flings with women he barely knew.
And he was cocky, he acknowledged,
constantly bragging about his martial arts ability and making
cryptic threats to people who crossed him.
"I did not make good life
choices when I was a young man," Kensu said during an interview
last month at Cotton Correctional Facility in Jackson. "That's
a big reason I'm in prison now."
Few would argue that.
Kensu's next assertion, however,
is up for debate: "I didn't kill anyone."
Twelve jurors decided otherwise.
Kensu, now 41, is prisoner
No. 189355 in the Michigan prison system. He's serving a life
sentence for the 1986 shooting death of Scott Macklem, a popular
student at St. Clair County Community College in Port Huron and
the son of the mayor of Croswell, a small town north of Port
Huron. Kensu, who was convicted under his birth name of Frederick
Freeman, has maintained for 18 years that he was 450 miles away,
in Escanaba, the day of the murder.
And while the prison system
is rampant with you-got-the-wrong-guy claims, Kensu has an unusual
number of supporters, including documentary filmmakers chronicling
his case, a handful of private detectives and lawyers who've
worked for free to clear him, and a once-skeptical woman he married
while he was behind bars.
Today, St. Clair County Circuit
Judge James Adair is expected to rule on a last-ditch motion
Kensu filed that claims he was railroaded and asks for a new
trial.
Kensu is out of appeals, so
this is his last chance. Call it Kensu's last stand.
A man of many names
By the time he reached St.
Clair County, 23-year-old Kensu -- then known as Fred Freeman
-- was on the lam. He legally changed his name in 1990 to Temujin
Kensu to reflect his Buddhist faith.
As Freeman, he had written
thousands of dollars in bad checks when he lived in Washington
state and he'd violated his bond by skipping court. Instead of
facing jail, he took off, leaving behind his estranged wife and
baby daughter.
Once in Michigan, he began
using the name John LaMar to throw off cops. He began dating
Michelle Woodworth, 18, whom he'd met a few years earlier. The
two moved to a rented cottage in Lakeport and Woodworth told
neighbors her name was Shellie LaMar.
In May 1986, Crystal Merrill
caught Freeman's eye. He'd rented some videos from a Port Huron
store and accidentally got the kid-flick "Goonies"
instead of the horror film "Ghoulies." He took the
video back and began talking with Merrill, an employee, who was
in an on-again, off-again relationship with Macklem.
The two had a short-lived fling
in the summer of 1986.
But although Kensu said Merrill
became so obsessed with him that he broke up with her, police
reports indicate that Merrill was afraid of him. She told police
after his arrest that he'd assaulted her and tried to brainwash
her.
She said he kept poison darts
in his shoes, bugged her workplace and threatened to kill Macklem
if the two dated again. They did, announcing an engagement --
and pregnancy -- around Halloween.
And so, when Macklem was gunned
down Nov. 5 in the campus parking lot, police zeroed in on Freeman.
From the notes of witness interviews, Detectives John Bowns and
Harry Hudson wrote:
·One girlfriend told
her mother that Freeman threatened her and demanded she provide
an alibi for him at the time of the shooting.
·A childhood friend
of Freeman's said that "Freeman is a very dangerous person
and is capable of killing a person."
·Freeman threatened
to kill the same childhood friend and the friend's father one
night. The two "loaded guns up in case Freeman did come,"
but he never showed.
·Macklem told a coworker
that he was being harassed by Merrill's ex-boyfriend.
There was no physical evidence
tying Freeman to the crime, and police never found the shotgun
that was used. Two witnesses picked his mug shot out of a lineup
as the suspicious man they saw on campus the morning of the killing;
one of those witnesses was called to testify at trial.
Freeman countered with several
witnesses who said they saw him in Escanaba beginning at noon,
three hours after the shooting. Escanaba is at least a six-hour
drive from Port Huron.
A series of denials
A week after Macklem's death,
police found Freeman living in Rock, about 25 miles from Escanaba.
He was using yet another alias: Mickey Forde.
Freeman had moved that summer
with Woodworth, who was pregnant, and planned to open a vitamin
and health food store. He and Woodworth planned to marry. According
to police records, Freeman said he hadn't seen Merrill since
he moved. But police believed he had continued to torment Macklem.
From prison, Kensu said that's
ridiculous.
"I never even met Scott,
and I broke up with Crystal," he said.
That's been his story since
his arrest from a Troy doughnut shop, where police had traced
a call he made to Merrill after he learned of the murder charge.
Police monitored the phone
call and kept notes, which indicated that Freeman told Merrill
he didn't shoot Macklem and that she was crazy for telling police
he did.
The day after his arrest, two
detectives interviewed Freeman as they transported him to Port
Huron. Freeman repeatedly asked for a polygraph.
"I never threatened Scott,"
he told police in 1986. "I never said a word about this
guy. I never met him. He's never said a word to me."
The believers
The jury didn't believe him.
Headlines had dubbed Freeman
the Ninja killer, and prosecutors told jurors he was one of the
most dangerous men they'd ever encountered. They brought in witnesses
to testify about Freeman's martial arts training and referred
to Merrill, who then was pregnant with Macklem's baby, as a "poor,
pregnant farm girl."
While police had little physical
evidence, they had plenty of testimony, including that of a jailhouse
informant who told jurors Freeman bragged about the shooting.
Freeman was convicted. His
appellate attempts failed.
Tim Morris, chief of appeals
with the St. Clair County Prosecutor's Office, said Kensu's claims
of innocence defy logic. There was no conspiracy to convict Fred
Freeman, he said Sunday.
"We don't believe it should
go any further," he said. "Of course we think he's
guilty."
But some say he is innocent.
Especially his wife.
Denise Derringer, a divorcee
with two kids, placed an ad in a local paper looking for a pen
pal in 1991. When she opened Kensu's letter from prison, she
scoffed.
"I wrote him back this
snotty letter," she said from her Swartz Creek home last
week. "I told him: 'Don't expect me to feel sorry for you.
You deserve to be there.' "
Kensu replied and asked her
to read his case file. She did, and she believed him. Then she
decided to meet him in person.
Nine years later, the two were
married in a Kathalyan ceremony, similar to Taoism, at Thumb
Correctional Facility in Lapeer. Derringer became Denise Kensu,
and her husband nicknamed her A'miko, or enchantress.
She doesn't see the calculating
killer that police and prosecutors presented at his murder trial
18 years ago.
Neither does Detroit TV reporter
Bill Proctor. In 1995, Proctor investigated the story, giving
Kensu a polygraph test for the first time. He passed.
Proctor also interviewed the
jailhouse snitch, who recanted his testimony in a deathbed interview.
He told Proctor on camera that he'd been coached by police to
incriminate Kensu.
Proctor said he has no doubt
Kensu is innocent. The newsman said he personally got grief from
the Macklem family.
Neither Macklem's family nor
Merrill responded to requests for comment on this story.
Two Hollywood documentary filmmakers,
Joe Viola and Dean Mongan, have spent the past two and four years,
respectively, documenting Kensu's case. They hope the next chapter
begins today, when Adair will consider the motion filed in October
challenging Kensu's conviction.
The 178-page motion claims
that the original defense lawyer, David Dean, was using cocaine
during the case; that Dean had a conflict of interest because
he'd represented Bowns, the lead investigator, in a separate
criminal matter; and that then-Prosecutor Robert Cleland biased
the jury by asking witnesses about Freeman's alleged Ninja knowledge.
The motion also points to another
suspect, a Croswell man linked to a similar 1986 murder.
Denise Kensu said she just
wants a fair trial for her husband.
"The perfect ending would
be him coming home," she said.
- Contact AMBER HUNT MARTIN
at 586-469-4904 or hunt@freepress.com.
- Copyright © 2005 Detroit
Free Press Inc.
-
'87 murder trial gets another
look
BY AMBER HUNT MARTIN , FREE
PRESS STAFF WRITER, October 18, 2004
His schoolmates heard the gunshot.
They heard him scream, then watched him stumble and fall between
cars in the parking lot of St. Clair County Community College
in Port Huron.
A young woman told police he
yelled: "Help me, help me! Oh, my God! I'm hurt!"
But she thought he was joking
and walked away.
Minutes later, people on the
campus realized it was no joke: 20-year-old Scott Macklem, the
popular son of then-Croswell Mayor Gary Macklem, was dead, shot
once through the side as he got out of his car to head to class
on a chilly November morning in 1986.
The case rattled the Blue Water
Area through the weeklong search for a suspect and monthlong
trial. In the end, 23-year-old Frederick Freeman -- a self-professed
martial arts expert who'd had a fling with Macklem's fiancee
-- was convicted of murder and sentenced to life.
He said he didn't do it.
Eighteen years and two failed
appeals later, Freeman has a following of believers -- including
two documentary filmmakers chronicling his case. And, thanks
to a recently filed motion that names a new suspect and alleges
prosecutorial and defense misconduct, Freeman, 41, could get
a last-chance court hearing to try to prove his innocence.
But, Freeman's persistence
aside, police officers who worked the case nearly 20 years ago
said he's desperately picking scabs off old wounds.
"I wouldn't want the wrong
guy in prison, either," said former Port Huron Police Detective
John Bowns, the lead investigator in the case.
"But, my God. The evidence
was there, and the jury found him guilty."
Document cites problems
Bound in black, the 178-page
motion submitted Oct. 1 to the St. Clair County courthouse is
a last-ditch effort to clear Freeman.
Circuit Judge James Adair is
expected to consider the matter Dec. 13, court officials said.
Because the Michigan Court
of Appeals upheld the conviction, any new filings had to include
new discoveries, such as information pointing to another suspect.
Appellate lawyer Jonathan Maire's
motion does that, alleging that the real killer is a former Croswell
man linked to another 1986 shooting death.
Although the motion names the
suspect, the Free Press won't because law enforcement agencies
do not consider him a suspect.
Maire's motion also alleges
that both the prosecution and defense were ineffective and prejudicial
during the spring 1987 trial.
Among his claims:
·Defense lawyer David
Dean was high on cocaine during the case.
·Dean had a conflict
of interest because he'd recently represented Bowns, the chief
investigator for the prosecution, in a separate criminal matter.
·St. Clair County's
then-Prosecutor Robert Cleland unfairly biased the jury by asking
witnesses about Freeman's alleged involvement in martial arts.
·Cleland made the jury
too sympathetic to the victim's pregnant fiancee, repeatedly
calling her a "poor, pregnant farm girl."
Dean couldn't be reached for
comment. He is no longer a member of the State Bar of Michigan.
Cleland, now a federal district
judge, declined to comment through a spokesman, who said the
judge doesn't give interviews.
Bowns, however, said both sides
acted appropriately. He said Dean never represented him in any
legal matters.
"I knew him socially,
but that was it," Bowns said Friday from his home in Florida.
In his motion, Maire points
to Dean's 1993 drug-related suspension from the state bar and
to newspaper interviews in which Dean dates his drug abuse to
1983 -- four years before he represented Freeman.
Maire also includes notes Dean
allegedly wrote during Freeman's trial. The notes include seemingly
non sequitur lines such as, "Law of lethal injection --
have to dip the needle in alcohol."
The comments "may be acceptable
in a Greenwich Village coffee shop," Maire wrote, "but
not in a courtroom."
Dean had good days as well
as bad, Maire added, "but on the bad days, the defendant
would have been better off without a lawyer."
Maire also alleges that Dean
should have objected to questions Cleland asked, including those
on Freeman's alleged ninja activities.
But Bowns said such detail
was important to the case.
"He'd dress up in black
outfits and go out in the nighttime," Bowns said of Freeman.
"He had throwing stars. He was excellent with all that."
One martial arts instructor
testified that Freeman was too dangerous to keep in class. That,
Bowns said, points to an aggressive nature capable of murder.
Hollywood takes an interest
Two filmmakers -- Joe Viola
and Dean Mongan -- hope to prove Bowns wrong.
They are heading a three-hour
seminar called "Wrongful Conviction" at Michigan State
University's Clara Bell Smith Center at 12:30 p.m. today.
Mongan, a cinematographer who
shoots and produces commercials, began researching the case about
four years ago.
Two years later, he turned
to Viola -- a Hollywood writer who, with Jonathan Demme, coproduced
the acclaimed 2003 HBO documentary, "Beah: A Black Woman
Speaks."
"I was really skeptical
when I first heard of it," said Mongan, whose father met
Freeman when the prisoner fought to have Buddhist reading material
in state prisons. Mongan's father is a Buddhist.
"I mean, he's innocent,"
Dean Mongan said. "Yeah, right."
So Mongan turned to his stepbrother,
a law student at Thomas M. Cooley Law in Lansing. From there,
he met law professor Ronald Bretz, who read over the case and
decided that no matter who committed the crime, Freeman didn't
get a fair trial.
Viola wasn't interested at
first, he said. But he said he became convinced of an injustice
when he met Freeman -- who adopted a Buddhist name, Temujin Kensu,
in prison -- and learned of what he deems exculpatory evidence.
"The cops, the lawyers,
they steadfastly refuse to look into this material," Viola
said.
For example, he said, it would
have been impossible for Freeman, who lived near Escanaba, to
travel the 440 miles back from Port Huron in time to be spotted
by alibi witnesses about two hours after the slaying.
The prosecution argued that
even if the alibi witnesses were credible, Macklem could have
chartered a private plane and flown to Port Huron and back.
Viola and Mongan said that's
a stretch.
The event at MSU will include
Maire and former FBI agent Harold Copus, who worked as a pro
bono private investigator on the case.
Ultimately, they said, they
want a happy ending for their film -- and freedom for Freeman.
But Bowns said the case is
-- and should stay -- closed.
"I'm getting tired of
this ...," he said. "This guy is guilty."
Contact AMBER HUNT MARTIN
at 586-469-4904 or hunt@freepress.com.
Copyright © 2005 Detroit
Free Press Inc.
The wife of a man convicted of murder, commits
her life to establish his innocence
By ADRIENNE BROADDUS, The
State News, MSU's Independent Voice, October 26th, 2004.
Two prison inmates were standing
a few feet away from her, but this was the happiest day of her
life.
There weren't any bouquets
of extravagant flower arrangements and no invitations were sent
out beforehand.
She didn't wear a white dress,
and only 10 people - monitored by a guard who peered through
the window of a nearby door - were allowed as witnesses in the
tiny chapel.
When Denise Kensu exchanged
vows with her husband, she knew they wouldn't be rushing to Hawaii
for a romantic honeymoon getaway.
She knew her husband wouldn't
go home with her after their 30-minute wedding ceremony. Instead,
he would sleep in a cell nearly 30 miles away from where she
lived. Denise Kensu said she also knew she would only be able
to see and spend a minimum amount of time with him throughout
the week.
But she didn't change her mind
about getting married to a convicted felon. They have been married
since Jan. 5, 2000, and Denise Kensu said she married her husband
for the same reason most people marry.
"I was in love with him,"
Denise Kensu said. "I was ready to take that step."
Now, four years after the wedding,
Kensu makes it her goal to tell people she thinks her husband
is innocent of a murder committed almost 20 years ago. But she's
not alone in her campaign.
The Case
In 1987, Denise Kensu's husband,
who now goes by his Buddhist name Temujin Kensu, was convicted
of murder at 23 years old and sentenced to life in prison without
the possibility of parole.
According to a report by the
Detroit Free Press, the night in question occurred in November
of 1986 at Port Huron's St. Clair Community College.
Scott Macklem, the son of the
mayor from a nearby city, was on his way to morning classes.
As he stepped out of his car, he was shot once in his side. His
cry for help was heard by one of his schoolmates but ignored
because she thought it was a joke, according to reports by the
Detroit Free Press.
It wasn't a joke. And for nearly
two decades, Denise Kensu's husband has been behind bars for
the death of the 20-year-old. After a week-long search for a
suspect, authorities pinpointed Temujin Kensu as the main suspect.
Despite numerous witnesses
who placed him at least 500 miles away on the day of the murder,
Temujin Kensu, who'd been previously involved with Macklem's
fiancee, was indicted and tried for Macklem's killing.
John Ange, a prosecuting attorney
in St. Clair County, said he wasn't involved in the initial case,
but is convinced that Temujin Kensu was guilty. And Macklem's
father, Gary Macklem, said he also is convinced.
Denise Kensu said her husband's
trial lasted 29 days and he is now stationed at the Cotton Correctional
Facility in Jackson.
True Love
Sitting with her legs propped
on a coffee table in her living room in Swartz Creek, Denise
Kensu laughed as she reminisced about how she and her husband
became acquainted. When they first met she was married with children
and he had a girlfriend, she said.
"I worked for Arby's and
one of his best buddies was there," she said. "He would
come up there and skateboard around in the parking lot."
Denise Kensu said because she
didn't have her own car she was forced to wait for someone to
pick her up. But she said the time spent waiting for a ride seemed
like no time at all because she and Temujin Kensu would talk
about everything. Although they both were in committed relationships
when introduced, Denise Kensu said it didn't stop them from carrying
on a conversation.
While in prison, Denise Kensu
said her husband got her name from a pen-pal list. She added
that she had no interest in getting a pen pal, but a friend of
hers managed to change her mind. Little did she know it would
reunite her with Temujin Kensu and lead to their marriage. They
began writing each other until they were finally ready to meet
again.
"We just could not stop
talking," she said while eyeing a Polaroid picture from
that day in May of 1991. "It was almost as if we could finish
sentences for each other. We just smiled and laughed so much
that the next day my cheeks ached."
Denise Kensu said when her
husband first wrote her, he told her he was innocent and she
said, "Yeah right."
"It was kind of funny
at first, because I was a person who believed in the death penalty,"
the Detroit native said. "If you were tried and convicted,
that was it, you were guilty."
When writing him back, she
told him she didn't feel sorry for him. But after reading his
transcripts and educating herself on his case, she changed her
mind.
"At the end of that visit,
I told him I would never leave him in that place and I would
do whatever I could to get him out," she said.
"I would never leave him
alone."
Denise Kensu is now 46 years
old and sticking to her word. She works late shifts so she can
spend her days working with a team of lawyers, filmmakers and
investigators on her husband's case.
"I went on third shift
because when he moves it's much easier to rearrange my whole
life with every move," Denise Kensu said.
She added that since her husband
has been incarcerated, he has relocated to 25 different prison
facilities.
"There have been times
when I'd drive eight hours to only be able to visit him for four."
Denise Kensu's experience has
led her to join a support group of wives called Prison Talk.
She said that when her friends
talk about how much they miss their husbands who are away for
a weekend, she can't help but laugh because she only gets to
see her husband seven times a month due to prison regulations.
But being without him doesn't
stop her from living her life. Denise Kensu said she hopes the
stacks of documents from his case that overflow from her dining
room table and spill onto the floor won't be the only reminder
of her husband. She said one day she hopes she can burn the documents
that are kept in manila folders and gray file cabinet, and his
name will be cleared.
She added that she doesn't
only find her strength from support groups, but from her husband
himself.
"In a lot of ways, he
is my strength," she said. "I watch the things
that he goes through. If he can get through it, I can."
"I don't have it as bad
as he does."
Clearing his name
Eighteen years after Temujin
Kensu's incarceration, others are working to see that he walks
free one day. On Oct. 1, Jonathan Maire, a lawyer in the appellate
courts, said he submitted a motion to the St. Clair County Courthouse
asking for a new trial to prove Temujin Kensu's innocence.
Circuit Court Judge James Adair
is expected to review the case on Dec. 13, Maire said.
Ange from the St. Clair Prosecuting
Attorney's Office, wouldn't comment on the validity of Temujin
Kensu's prosecution, but said his office is following the appeal's
process.
"We are going to follow
the brief in a timely manner," he said.
Maire said he has followed
the case for nearly a decade. He added that the ruling has made
him disgruntled and upset.
"I've been very frustrated
when reviewing what happened in the trial," he said. "This
should have not happened. Things were done inappropriately by
the prosecution."
Maire said several years ago,
Temujin Kensu received an anonymous letter with the name and
location of someone who admitted to killing the mayor's son.
With the planned hearing a
little more than a month away, Maire said he will remain optimistic.
"I'm hoping the judge
will grant the new trial based upon the motion and brief I filed."
Temujin Kensu's case has garnered
attention from those outside of the law community.
Filmmaker Joe Viola, who has
written for the NBC drama "Law & Order," said he
felt compelled to help because he has been writing fictional
stories similar to Temujin Kensu's case. Viola and another filmmaker
are making a documentary to air on HBO.
"I've been writing law
material for 20 years, and I just didn't believe it was possible
this day in age that this much of a lynching could take place,"
Viola said during a cell phone call from Los Angeles.
On Oct. 18, Viola and the other
filmmaker held a three-hour seminar called "Wrongful Conviction"
at the Clara Bell Smith Student-Athlete Academic Center.
This segment will be featured in the documentary chronicling
Temujin Kensu's case.
Gary Macklem, the victim's
father, said he had two representatives on his behalf at the
seminar and he doesn't agree with the information given to those
in attendance.
"Everything they told
you kids were a bunch of lies," the former mayor said. "Evidentially,
they didn't read the trial. That's what's upsetting us."
Before hanging up the phone,
Macklem said "Did (those heading the seminar) mention (prosecutors)
had an eyewitness who saw my son shot?"
He would not comment further.
In the meantime, Viola said
he hopes to accomplish at least two things with this documentary:
Raise awareness about this case and have Temujin Kensu get his
life back.
Even though Denise Kensu said
she does not live in a cell or have a criminal record, she said
she often feels otherwise.
Outside the prison walls Denise
Kensu said people develop stereotypes about her and her background
because she is married to an inmate.
"You're looked down on,"
she said. "People tend to look at inmate families like they
are criminals also and that we are beneath them."
Denise Kensu said she looks
forward to the day when her husband's name is cleared.
"I want my husband of
out prison," she said. "I want to be alone, take the
phone off the hook and just have some peace and quiet."
Location: http://www.statenews.com/article.phtml?pk=26468
All content ©2005 The
State News
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Truth can never be
told so as to be understood, and not be believ'd. William Blake, The Proverbs of Hell
