Life after Death Row
A freed man goes to Burger King, watches "Titanic" and waits for reality to hit.

By Mike Kataoka
The Press-Enterprise
RIVERSIDE

Last weekend, Lee Perry Farmer Jr. sank his teeth into a Whopper and his mom's dog sank its teeth into him.

Two indications that a man who once faced execution wasn't in prison anymore.

But a week after a Riverside County Superior Court jury acquitted him of murder, Farmer remained in a daze over suddenly being a free man after nearly 18 years behind bars, eight of them on Death Row.

"I don't think the reality has fully hit me," he said.

Farmer has been bombarded by new sensations in an unfamiliar world and struggles to make sense of it all.

But he's clear on how he felt in court last Friday.

"Through my faith in God, I believed that I was going to get acquitted," the 53-year-old Farmer said. "I had that confidence. Spiritually I got myself ready."

He was unprepared for a harrowing homecoming, however.

As Farmer entered his mother's house in Colton last Saturday morning, her dog mistook him for an intruder and bit his leg, leaving a nasty bruise.

He's not complaining.

"I'm fortunate I have family out here," Farmer said.

The first thing he did as a free man was was grab some fast food at Burger King. He's also been out for Mexican food but mostly he's enjoying home cooking.

For entertainment, he watched a home video of "Titanic" with his niece's daughter.

When Farmer went out shopping, the prices floored him and the crowds made him uneasy.

"I'm not used to hearing people talk about everyday things, like what they're having for dinner that night," he said.

The Riverside he used to know, with open spaces and clear roads, is now a mass of retail stores and traffic.

Riverside was a different place and Farmer was a different man in 1981. He used and sold hard drugs but he was not, jurors decided last Friday, a cold-blooded murderer.

They agreed Farmer did not kill 18-year-old Erich Allyn Schmidt-Till during a Riverside apartment burglary in June 1981. Farmer and another man had gone to the apartment to collect a drug debt from the victim's roommate.

Jurors agreed with defense attorney John Cotsirilos that Farmer's accomplice, Charles Huffman, fired the fatal shots. Huffman was acquitted in 1982 but he had confessed to his attorney and others that he, not Farmer, murdered Schmidt-Till.

The confession eventually surfaced and became the linchpin of Farmer's defense in the new trial.

"I believed in Lee's innocence all the more when I got to know him," said Cotsirilos, who has represented Farmer for free since 1989.

The San Diego attorney is among those who say Farmer not only is an innocent man, he's an inspiring one.

"There were times when I lost hope in Lee's case but he picked me up, picked up my spirits," Cotsirilos said.

Farmer was awaiting trial in Riverside County jail when he said he turned to religion to stave off his anger, self-pity and bitterness.

"I knew I didn't do it, yet everybody was blaming me," he said. "I also knew God knew I didn't do it."

Thus began a spiritual path from jail, to San Quentin's death row, other prisons and finally to freedom.

He's taking one day at time while mulling over a future that probably would include Christian ministry. In his first days of freedom, he's mostly been puttering around the house, cleaning and fixing things.

"I hope to ease into society," he said. "As doors open, I'll take those opportunities."

Farmer learned patience in pursuing his appeal.

The state Supreme Court overturned Farmer's death sentence in 1989, forcing a new trial in 1991 that got him off death row for good but condemned to prison for the rest of his life. A federal appeals court in 1997 overturned his conviction, setting the stage for Farmer's acquittal last week.

In 1982, Farmer told jurors he had "a clear conscience" but asked to be executed rather than face "an eternity in the jungle of prison life" under a life term with no chance of parole.

In the prison jungle of violence, anger and hatred, Farmer was a peacemaker and lifesaver. Cotsirilos said Farmer saved two men who attempted suicide.

Farmer also managed to cultivate a spiritual life, first to deal with the prospect of execution, later to sustain hope of getting out.

Five ministers who met Farmer on death row testified that he was deeply committed to Christianity and was admired by prison staff and inmates as a peacemaker and a caring man.

Each minister said they had encountered death row inmates who faked religious conversion to manipulate the system. Farmer's faith was genuine, they agreed.

Earl Smith, a death row chaplain for 15 years, testified as a character witness for Farmer at his last two trials. He hasn't done that for any other inmate, he said.

John Skora, a Roman Catholic deacon who lives in Palm Springs, met Farmer in 1983 and told jurors they became as close as brothers through visits and correspondence.

Farmer hopes to find work, earn money to buy a car and somehow make a difference in people's lives on the outside.

"I do have confidence in Lee; I really do," Cotsirilos said. "I really hope he follows through on his ministry."

Farmer sees himself someday returning to death row to minister to condemned prisoners. He does not see himself returning to the life of a drug user and dealer he led in 1981 before he was arrested for Schmidt-Till's murder.

"I want to prove to everybody I am who I am," he said.

Farmer is keenly aware that some people remain convinced he is the killer a jury found him to be in 1982.

Karolyn Reilly of Chino Hills, Schmidt-Till's sister, sat through the trial and was convinced the evidence supported Farmer's conviction.

"I have the deepest sympathy toward Erich Schmidt-Till's family," Farmer said. "I wish I could have done more to stop Huffman from going in there. It's always bothered me."

Published 1/22/1999