Ralph T. Stokes
#AY-9034
S C I - Greene
175 Progressive Drive
Waynesburg, PA 15370-8090
Nickname: Trent
Age: 41
DOB: 02/08/1963
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 228
Eye Colour: Brown
Hair Colour: Black
Race: Black
Custody Date: 03/16/1982
Offences: 1st Degree Murder
1st Degree Armed Robbery
Sentence: Death
Parole Eligibility Date: n/a
Maximum Release Date: Death
Page Listed: 10/17/2004
Page Updated: 03/20/2008
Seeking: Open To All / Legal
Hobbies: Interest.. R&B and Jazz music.. Enjoy reading very enlightening books. (Books for the soul) I enjoy sports such as, football, basketball, baseball, hockey and have recently become interested in soccer.
Dreams and/or Wishes: To meet and maybe make some life long friends no matter where they may be in the world. To hopefully bring light and attention to my situation here on Pennsylvania Deathrow.
A bit about yourself you'd like the pen pals to know: I'm a caring, understanding person, open-minded, and easy to talk to. I was born and raised in the city of Philadelphia, PA where most of my family is. I'm single, never married, and don't have any children. I have a couple of nieces who I love very much and are the next best thing to having my own children. I love to learn about other countries, people, and cultures around the world and I'm interested in corresponding and developing long term friendships with good hearted people who are against the death penalty no matter where they might be in the world. So for those who are interested in maybe corresponding with me and maybe developing a long term friendship with me I assure you that I'll reply to all email and snail mail letters that I receive, so I'll be looking forward to hearing from you soon. Also for those who wish to learn more about me, please make sure that you read all that you find on this website about me.
THE LAST ROUND
You don't have to be a boxing aficionado to understand the celebrity status
Smokin' Joe Frazier enjoy in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and around the world.
Millions of fight fans and those who simply wanted to witness history in its
making could ever forget the memorable fights between Smokin' Joe and Muhammad
Ali, the Greatest. There were three bloody wars between them - The most
spectacular fight being "The Thriller in Manila," and one that is forever etched
into the annals of boxing history. Years after he'd retired, Joe Frazier opened
several businesses in and around Philadelphia. One such establishment was "Joe
Frazier's Restaurant," which catered to an upscale clientele.
On a warm spring day in 1982, two men burst into the restaurant with guns drawn
and announced a hold up. When it was over three victims lay dead from gunshot
wounds. The brutal murders, which had tragically occurred in an establishment
owned by the city's most beloved resident - sent shock waves rippling through
the community. The police scoured the city in search of the killers.
Young Ralph Trent Stokes, a 19-years old black male, who was once a restaurant
worker at Frazier's, soon learned that he was the central focus of the
investigation. There was word on the street that the police were going to kill
him on sight. Fear seized him because in the city of Philadelphia, the racist
police murdered young black men with impunity. Stokes knew he had absolutely
nothing to do with this vicious crime - so he immediately called his attorney
and went down to the police station. A guilty man would have taken flight - like
the actual triggermen in this case, Donald "Razor" Jackson and Eric Burley, who,
court records show - made a hurried hegira to Atlantic City, New Jersey, and New
York City, shortly after the murders.
Stokes told the cadre of homicide detectives that interrogated him he knew
absolutely nothing about the crime, that there was nothing he could proffer.
They assailed him with a fusillade of verbal obscenities and leading questions,
and he answered them the best he could. The cops' angry interrogatories
resounded off the grimy, graffiti-scarred walls of the holding cell with the
fury of vicious attack dogs howling in the night. But they had no legal reason
to hold the young suspect simply because he'd once been an employee of Joe
Fraizier's - so they begrudgingly released him.
He emerged from the police station, a proud and happy young man, thinking it was
over. He didn't know the reputations and careers of the Philadelphia homicide
detectives, assigned to this case, were on the line. And he didn't know they all
were under enormous pressure from the District Attorney's office to quickly make
an arrest in this case - and Stokes' euphoria was short-lived - on the basis of
a statement from one of the actual culprits - the police stormed his home, and
tore it apart in search of evidence linking him to this crime - but did not find
a single shred or anything that could vaguely inculpate him. They arrested him
anyway, and in spite of the absence of evidence - Stokes was charged with triple
murder.
News of the arrest dominated the front pages of local newspapers for months, and
it was customary for the nightly news anchors to lead in with titillating
details about the Joe Frazier Restaurant case. Before the commencement of his
trial, the private attorney, who had accompanied Stokes to the police station,
abandoned him - and the court appointed a pitifully inept attorney to represent
the defendant. Defence lawyer Malcolm Waldron confided to his client that he
hadn't handled a criminal case - particularly a capital case of this magnitude -
in twenty years! He'd only litigated a hand full of insurance cases - and the
complexities of affirmative defences and trial strategies were unfamiliar and
inauspicious terrains. He did no investigation, and he called no witnesses who
could have established the defendant's whereabouts at the time of the offence.
This was crucial to counter the maliciously false accusations by his now
co-defendant who seized upon the opportunity to testify against Stokes. In
exchange for a life sentence, and another, who was given little or no jail time,
they were eager to be the prosecution's star witnesses. They would do or say
anything. One co-defendant was allowed unsupervised sexual liaisons with his
wife in an upscale hotel. He was supplied with illegal drugs and other amenities
readily available to pampered snitches. They both pled guilty well before trial,
confessing their guilt well before trial, confessing their guilt to escape death
- but they weren't sentenced until Stokes was found guilty. The trial was a
farce. An alleged eye witness told the police that on the day of the murders he
couldn't identify anyone, for how could he? They had on ski-masks, he told them,
masks that covered their entire face - and it was impossible to proffer an
accurate description as to the weight, height, or facial features. He couldn't
even tell whether the robbers were black or white. His story changed once he got
on the stand. Oh, yes that was him he swore. He was able to see his eyeballs
through the two small holes in the black ski-masks. Yeah, he was positive in his
identification of the defendant. He knew it had to be him - because of the two
killers - Stokes, the defendant, was the "shortest one". This witness told the
police three different stories of what occurred that day - and it was clear that
the final version was meticulously tailored to fit the prosecution's twisted
scheme. The state utilized unspeakable tactics in insuring a conviction - and
forging signatures on statements inculpating the defendant was one of it's
cruellest tricks imaginable. The prosecution's star witness, Donald Blackson, was
cross-examined by defence attorney Malcolm Waldron about this egregious
misconduct:
Waldron:
"Do you have Commonwealth's exhibit number 34 in front of you?"
Blackson:
"Yes"
Waldron:
"Did I ask you whether or not they were your signatures on pages 1, 2, 3, 4 and
5?"
Blackson:
"Yes"
Waldron:
"And what did you tell me about your signature?"
Blackson:
"That it didn't look like my handwriting."
Here, a prosecution witness admitted under oath that he hadn't even endorsed the
statement accusing a man of being involved in a triple murder that inevitable
sent him to death row. Then who did?, his pitifully inept attorney should have
asked. It became clear that the evidence against the defendant was deliberately
fabricated.
Waldron:
"Did I ask you whether you had a conversation with Mr. Stokes about the incident
referred to in that statement?"
Blackson:
"Yes"
Waldron:
"About the things you said in that statement? And, did you tell me that, "I
don't remember whether I talked to him?""
Blackson:
"That's what I told you, that I didn't remember. Yes"
Waldron:
"Now, you were asked here today if you remembered a conversation on March 11,
1982. Isn't it a fact that you don't know whether you had a conversation with
the defendant?"
Blackson:
"Well, I went over my testimony, and from my testimony, it said that I had
talked to the defendant on the day of the murders."
Waldron:
"Well, do you really remember that, to be true now?"
Blackson:
"No"
Any reasonable man or woman could deduce, from this portion of the trial
transcripts - that this witness' testimony was not only patently manufactured,
but perjurious. He was merely one player out of a sickening sequence of tainted
witnesses for the prosecution - like Philadelphia homicide detective Robert
Kane, who was under state and federal investigation for police corruption, and
tampering with evidence. Detective Kane testified that he was the central figure
at the scene of the crime, who collected, and preserved crucial physical
evidence. Introduced positional photographs and body charts of the victims. He
was allowed, (without any objections from his attorney) - to testify about the
ballistic evidence concerning bullets that were in no way connected to the crime
- though the jury was told they were. Kane swore under oath that his
observations of the crime scene and the critical evidence he'd collected there
undeniably established the defendant's guilt - but documentary proof, recorded
in police log books, clearly contradicts this ridiculous assertion - because he
was somewhere else at the time, and his presence at the crime scene would have
been physically impossible.
Stokes was barely 19 years old - one of the youngest defendants to be sentenced
to death in the state of Pennsylvania at the time. In a hellacious battle for
his young life, the state was a formidable opponent - and without a competent
attorney - it was no contest. There are no screaming crowds of supporters, no
strict referees issuing stern warnings against the state's dirty and illegal
tactics. Mr. Stokes needs your help. His appeals are nearly exhausted. This is
his biggest fight. This is the last round.
Copyright © 1997 R. S. Lewis
"Footnote"
Mr. Stokes said that he would like to encourage those who see this article to
distribute leaflets (even if it is copies of the article) in support of his
campaign for justice. You might also recommend to people that they forward the
article and news about the brother to any friends/subscriber groups that could
also put his plea on their web site and link to many other sites, or can link
this site about him to other sites thought appropriate. He would also like to
encourage those who are able to get anti-death penalty newspapers + magazines to
publish his plea to please do so. He would also like to encourage those who may
wish to write with ideas of other ways they could help him to please do so. Mr.
Stokes has been incarcerated on death row for 15½ years and still does not have
sufficient funds to hire a competent attorney. Your contributions are both
welcome and needed. Please send money-orders and those outside the U.S. please
remit international money-orders.
I AM A MAN
I wish for the world to know who I am...
I am a man taken from the land in which I was to be a
labourer for my loved ones.
Now I sit in a modern man made cave watching age set
in and life pass me by.
My cave sits in a ditch surrounded by hills.
I can only see the sky.
I wish to run to the top of a mountain and scream my
name to the world.
"I am Ralph T. Stokes", "I am Ralph T. Stokes"...
Sitting in this cave I sometimes forget I am a man.
The cold air that blows upon me day and night it makes
me feel like a animal...
I am a man, I am a man: this I must repeat to myself
in order to keep my sanity.
I seek life, I seek a renewed spirit, I seek peace...
The world is a beautiful place...I never got a chance
to live in it.
**Please note that prisoners cannot respond to e-mail via computer so if you want a response you must include your name and mailing address. Inmates do not have access to internet or email.**
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