CLARENCE BRANDLEY, ONE OF TEXAS’ MOST FAMOUS DEATH ROW EXONEREES, WAS DENIED COMPENSATION UNDER A LAW INSPIRED BY HIS OWN STORY.
NOW, HIS FAMILY HOPES FOR A COURSE CORRECTION.
On October 16, 2018, Ozell Brandley walked into the downtown Houston office of Mike DeGeurin, a lawyer who had helped exonerate his younger brother, Clarence Brandley. Clarence, who was wrongly convicted in 1981 of the rape and murder of 16-year-old Cheryl Fergeson, had spent nearly a decade on death row until new evidence helped free him in 1990. The only Black janitor on duty the day of the white student’s death in Conroe, the Montgomery County seat, Clarence had been railroaded; exculpatory evidence had been suppressed; and his wrongful conviction and death sentence had generated international publicity.
Gathered around a wooden conference table beside DeGeurin was another of Clarence’s former defense attorneys, Paul Nugent. Next to him were an investigator and a Texas legislator along with current Montgomery County District Attorney Brett Ligon and Clarence’s daughter, Cassie, sitting by her uncle Ozell.
Ozell, a pastor and substitute teacher, began with a prayer, then read a statement: “The late Clarence Lee Brandley and the late Cheryl Fergeson deserve more and better than what they have received from Montgomery County, Texas, and the State of Texas.”
While his brother Clarence had been released from prison and had his conviction set aside, his 32-year effort to secure restitution for himself and his five children had been in vain. Just six weeks after Clarence’s death, Ozell had taken up the cause.
“Certainly, the children of my late brother are deserving of some compensation from Montgomery County, Texas, for all the suffering of their father,” he said. “They must have suffered also having to live without their father’s presence and encouragement.”
He kept his eyes trained on Ligon—whose support would be critical in securing a pardon from the governor, which would entitle Clarence’s family to compensation. When Ozell finished, Ligon declared he wanted to conduct his own investigation. He didn’t know much about the case: Ligon, a native of Montgomery County who became district attorney in 2009, had been in college in 1990.
Ozell insisted that any further investigation was unnecessary.
That’s when things became “heated,” Cassie, his niece, recalled. She watched when, about 30 minutes into the meeting, Ligon stormed out. DeGeurin went after him.
Upon his return, the meeting concluded with Ligon promising that his office would set aside $10,000 to hire a private investigator and would update the family in three to six months.
“At first, I did have some hope,” Cassie recently told the . “I really felt in my
