We anxiously gathered around our computers in the NCIP office on the morning of our visit to Chowchilla Women’s Facility. Soon, we would begin our two-hour journey to the facility to have our first visit with our client, Sofia*. Each of us had been working on Sofia’s petition for writ of habeas corpus for seven months. As a team, we had contributed hundreds of hours of investigation, research, and case preparation towards the push for Sofia’s exoneration. Sofia has been wrongfully incarcerated at Chowchilla Women’s Facility for fifteen years; we would soon, finally, be face-to-face with her.
As we embarked on the 130-mile journey to the prison, our anticipation grew. At first, our minds were focused. We used the car ride to review Sofia’s case and discuss potential questions to ask her. As the journey continued, however, we began to speculate uneasily about our upcoming visit. To ease our nerves, we exchanged stories we had heard about correctional facilities, each moment only bringing us closer to what we had all been waiting for – a visit with our client.
After meeting up with Dre McEwen, the lead NCIP attorney on the case, our team prepared to enter the facility. Chowchilla Women’s Facility was far removed from the palm tree-lined sidewalks of Santa Clara School of Law. There were guards who checked us in while driving through the front gate, and then again when we walked through the front door. Large cement walls barricaded access to the facility’s main buildings. Barbed wire lined the walls and fences; it was clear we were in a secure location.
Visitor processing center at Chowchilla Women’s Facility. Photo: Facebook.
The initial screening was only the beginning. The facility mandated all visitors have the appropriate security clearance. Despite months of planning, a missing “Visitor Clearance Memo” delayed our entrance to the prison and led to additional screening. Before any visitor could have contact with Sofia, the corrections officers took inventory of each item we carried. Each pad of paper, pen, necklace, watch, and jewelry was tallied before entry. Finally, our team was cleared and the visit could continue.
Standing in what appeared to be a human cage, we waited for the guards to open the gate and let us in. As we waited, we coincidentally met a group from Project for the Innocent (LPI), a law clinic from Loyola Law School in Los Angeles which also works to free innocent prisoners. Teams from both NCIP and LPI were scheduled to have first-time visits with our respective clients. Standing in the waiting area with other law students who made a similar journey, both teams recognized the connections between our innocence work.
Walking to the visitor’s area was the final leg of our journey. As the gate released, the rain began to pour. We used our plastic bags filled with paper and pens to cover our heads as we followed the guard across the courtyard. The rain seemed to fall harder with each step toward the door, but a little rain would not stop us from getting to Sofia.
The energy surrounding the facility was sterile, and its location was isolated and off the beaten path. However, Sofia’s positivity, despite her surroundings, was a ray of sunshine peeking through on a rainy day. The moment Sofia walked into the room, everything brightened up a little.
We were amazed at Sofia’s strength even though our visit fell on the fifteenth anniversary of her wrongful conviction. Sofia’s positive energy radiated. Although those fifteen years represented time that was stolen from her, our team reflected on the beneficial choices Sofia made while incarcerated. An immigrant from Ecuador, imprisoned with rudimentary English, she spoke with us as if she had been speaking English her whole life. As a wrongfully convicted woman, she emerged as a positive role model for her community and has dedicated her time to appreciating the beauty in others. Most impressively, Sofia has somehow maintained her faith throughout the entire process – her belief in her future exoneration was unwavering.
The time spent with Sofia disappeared like quicksand; it seemed as soon as we sat down we had to leave. Having visited with Sofia, I feel honored to be working on her case. I am looking forward to the day when she will be able to return home.
*The client’s name has been changed for anonymity.
