"I did not know any of the circumstances surrounding the case," Mr. Rice recalled in the letter. "All I knew was the look on the young man's face. I could see into his soul for some reason. He and I prayed together for guidance and ... I told him about God's love for us all, and that he needed to let the truth be known before that man is sent to prison for a crime he did not commit. I could have been sent to prison myself for tampering with a state witness, but ... all I cared about was saving my two brothers from destruction."
The charges against Mr. Weaver were dropped Oct. 24. His defense attorney told this newspaper that the lone witness had changed his story and had lied about even being in Woodlawn on the night of the fatal shooting in 2002.
Nicholas Weaver reportedly returned to law school, something Donald Rice once had hoped to do.
"I didn't have an angel to help me; my life was totally destroyed due to lies," Mr. Rice wrote in his letter to Mr. Weaver and his family. "The road I traveled became my way of life. I let myself become the product of my environment, bent on destruction. How could I let my situation happen to ... this young man? I did not know him, still don't. All I could see was myself, what had happened to me 30 years ago." He implored Mr. Weaver to "live up to your goals" and become a good attorney.
Since Mr. Rice's death, many people have said good riddance and that he got what he deserved. It's convenient to regard such men as less than human - as parasites - and unable to tell the truth, incapable of honesty. The skeptic will dismiss Donald Rice's claim that he might have influenced a younger man to tell the truth and therefore kept another from being wrongly convicted. Some of us remain open to another possibility: that Donald Rice led a life of crime but might have had at least one day - at least one moment of one day - when he did the right thing.
Dan Rodricks' column appears Wednesdays and Sundays. He is host of the Midday talk show on WYPR-FM.
