Imagine spending years—maybe decades—behind bars for a crime you didn’t commit. You fight tooth and nail, finally find a thread of hope through DNA evidence or a key witness, and then... boom. You’re told you're too late. This isn’t a nightmare scenario—it’s the real consequence if a new piece of North Carolina legislation becomes law.
Let’s rewind a bit.
Two sweeping crime bills are making their way through the North Carolina General Assembly, and buried in all the legal jargon is a tiny, yet deeply impactful, provision: a two-year deadline for wrongfully convicted individuals to file a Motion for Appropriate Relief (MAR) after they've exhausted all appeals. If you miss that window? Too bad—no second shot at justice. That’s what’s on the table.
What’s a Motion for Appropriate Relief Anyway?
MARs aren’t just legal filings—they’re often the last hope for people claiming they were wrongfully convicted. These motions allow courts to reexamine past cases, sometimes unearthing critical new evidence that didn’t see the light of day during the original trial. Think DNA results, recanted testimonies, or even prosecutorial misconduct.
Case in point: Darryl Hunt, a Winston-Salem man who spent nearly 20 years in prison before DNA cleared his name. His story is tragically iconic—he was convicted of a murder he didn’t commit, and the man who actually did it? Police had spoken to him two years after the crime. That detail? It never reached Hunt’s attorneys until it was almost too late.
Who Wants the Change and Why?
The N.C. Conference of District Attorneys is pushing for this time limit—though it wouldn’t apply to death row cases. According to Chuck Spahos, the group’s legislative liaison, courts are being clogged with MARs being filed years, even decades, after convictions are finalized.
“I can give you examples of MARs filed 33 years after the case was closed,” Spahos told lawmakers. “All we’re saying is, assert your rights within a reasonable period of time.”
To be fair, Spahos did clarify that defendants could still petition after two years if new, compelling evidence came to light or if there’s a constitutional issue tied to the conviction.
So What’s the Big Deal?
Critics argue that this proposed time cap could slam the door shut on justice for those who simply don’t have access to legal help right away. And let’s be honest—how many people who are sitting in prison with little to no money can immediately hire a defense team to dive into their case within 24 months?
“This bill doesn’t recognize the reality on the ground,” said Mark Rabil, the attorney who helped free Darryl Hunt and now directs Wake Forest University’s Innocence & Justice Clinic. “There’s already a ton of barriers to poor, innocent people trying to prove their case. They don’t need to add any more.”
Rabil’s clinic has reviewed thousands of potential innocence claims since 2013, yet only 30 to 40 resulted in actual MAR filings. That means lawyers are doing the work of screening weak claims out—a process that would vanish under the new law, since desperate defendants would be encouraged to file pro se motions (on their own, without legal aid) just to meet the deadline.
A Legal Traffic Jam in the Making?
Here’s where it gets messier.
If this bill passes, defense lawyers say they’ll have to advise every single convicted client to file a placeholder MAR just to preserve the chance to dig deeper later. Sounds simple? Not so much.
"That’s going to bury district attorneys, clerks of court, and basically the entire system in paperwork," said Olivia Warren, a defense attorney from Durham.
Filing an MAR isn’t just writing a letter—it can require thousands of pages of records, with sensitive data that needs redaction. Without legal assistance, most inmates won’t know how to navigate that mess, and it’ll fall on court staff to sort it all out.
So ironically, the very thing the bill claims it wants to reduce—court overload—might skyrocket.
Real Lives, Real Stakes
Let’s not forget that behind every MAR is a human story. Rep. Deb Butler, a Democratic lawmaker and attorney from Wilmington, reminded the committee of exactly that.
“These are people who spent their lives in prison unfairly,” she said. “And while they may have been convicted by juries and the law may have followed the rules at the time, it doesn’t mean we shouldn't allow them to continue to try to prove their innocence.”
Her point hits harder when you remember Darryl Hunt’s heartbreaking ending. After his exoneration, the years in prison—and the weight of public attention—took their toll. Hunt died by suicide in 2016.
Meanwhile, a Bigger Battle Brews
What makes all this even more concerning is the timing. As the legislature considers cutting off avenues for the wrongfully convicted to seek justice, they’re also looking to eliminate the N.C. Innocence Inquiry Commission altogether. That state-run body has helped 16 people get exonerated since 2007.
That’s not just a coincidence—that’s a trend.
Victims, Witnesses, and Emotional Closure
On the flip side, some prosecutors like Wake County District Attorney Lorrin Freeman see the rising number of MARs as disruptive. Revisiting old cases can reopen wounds for victims and their families. And sometimes, crucial witnesses from decades ago have moved away, forgotten details, or passed on.
“Criminal matters are becoming this kind of perpetual litigation,” Freeman said. “We need a reasonable way to bring these cases to finality—without violating defendants' rights, of course.”
It’s a valid concern. No one wants a system where justice drags out endlessly. But does finality matter more than getting it right?
What’s Next?
Senate Bill 429—the one carrying this controversial provision—passed the Judiciary Committee and is now heading to the House Rules Committee. A similar bill, House Bill 307, has already cleared the House with an 89-21 vote and bipartisan support.
Republican Senator Danny Britt, a former assistant district attorney, says lawmakers are still working on fine-tuning the language.
And then there’s Gov. Josh Stein, a Democrat, who would ultimately need to sign off for the bill to become law. His stance? Still unclear.
So... Are We Closing the Door on Justice?
This proposed law is about more than just legal timelines and court motions. It’s about who gets a second chance—and who doesn’t. It’s about whether we value convenience more than truth in our criminal justice system.
And as the debate rages on, one thing is clear: for every day that passes without action, there may be another innocent person sitting behind bars, waiting for their chance to finally say, “I didn’t do it.”
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