The Genesis of “The Timekeeper of Justice”

The idea for The Timekeeper of Justice book series came from a deeply personal and ongoing journey. After successfully appealing my own murder conviction from 2002, I felt a responsibility to stand with other young men who found themselves facing similar struggles. Too often, when someone finds themselves in such dire circumstances, they are abandoned. I couldn’t let that happen without doing my part.

Being present at their trials became a personal mission, though it wasn’t without its challenges. I was once arrested for “intimidating a court officer” simply because my presence and actions as a supporter were misinterpreted. On another occasion, I skipped my own court date over some minor charges just to attend a lifer’s appeal at Superior Court. That decision earned me a bench warrant, but it wasn’t a difficult choice to make. Standing in solidarity with someone fighting for their freedom felt more important than attending to the bureaucracy of my own situation.

What struck me most about these experiences was how isolating the courtroom can be for defendants, especially young men from marginalized communities. Families often don’t have the resources or understanding of the legal system to fully support their loved ones during such a critical time. I understood this firsthand and wanted to make sure these young men knew they weren’t alone.

My commitment didn’t end with their convictions. Over the years, I stayed connected with many of these men who were sentenced to life in prison. I wrote letters, offered encouragement, and even collaborated on projects with some of the artistic lifers who sought to express themselves through creative outlets. One experience that stands out was hosting a lifer at my home during an escorted temporary absence (ETA). That particular day was surreal—having a corrections officer who once watched over me now sitting on my living room couch while the lifer and I spoke in the basement. It was a reminder of how unpredictable life can be, but also how bonds forged in dark times can lead to moments of redemption and connection.

Through all of this, I never saw my actions as extraordinary—this is simply life for some of us. We become a beacon of light for those seeking redemption from the darkness. It’s not about grand gestures but about being present when it matters most.

As my two sons, Morocco and Masai, grew older, I began taking them with me to court proceedings. They learned the roles of the judge, the prosecutor, the defense attorney, and even the jury. For many in our communities, courtrooms are a place we only think about when someone we know is in trouble. But I believe we must teach our children about this system from a position of awareness and understanding, rather than fear or ignorance. My sons witnessed not only the gravity of the proceedings but also the importance of empathy and standing up for others. These lessons are just as valuable as anything they might learn in school.

This sense of duty to stand by others is woven throughout The Timekeeper of Justice. Its meaning is further solidified by the foreword, written by Lamar Skeete. Back in 2011, I attended Lamar’s trial, where he was ultimately wrongly convicted and sentenced to life in prison. Despite his circumstances, Lamar contributed to the book, giving voice to the resilience and connection that this series represents. His involvement underscores what this series is truly about—illuminating the human side of a system that often reduces people to case numbers and labels.

The Timekeeper of Justice is more than a book series; it’s a testament to the power of standing with others, of teaching the next generation, and of shining a light in dark places. It reminds us that even in the face of adversity, we can create connections that transcend barriers, and in doing so, inspire hope and change for those who come after us.

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