March 11--A Waukegan man walked out of prison Tuesday evening, 20 years after he was convicted of a rape and abduction that authorities now say he did not commit.
Angel Gonzalez, who spent about half his life in prison for the Lake County conviction, hugged his attorneys at the Dixon Correctional Center gatehouse before emerging a free man.
Lake County authorities cleared him of the rape conviction on Monday, but he was not able to be freed right away because he still had a property damage conviction on his record, stemming from an incident in which he broke a sink while in solitary confinement in prison, his lawyers said.
They went to court earlier Tuesday in downstate Livingston County, where a judge agreed to drop that charge, paving the way for his release hours later.
At about 7 p.m. Tuesday, Gonzalez, wearing a new dark gray track suit, walked out into an early evening fog that shrouded the prison. After raising his arms with his lawyers and staff from the Innocence Project in New York, he appeared jovial as he spoke with the assembled media.
The 41-year-old Gonzalez, sporting a bald head and neatly trimmed goatee, thanked his family, his supporters, his lawyers and the criminal authorities who worked for his release.
"I'm free. Thank God," he said.
Gonzalez said he had no reason to be angry: "The past is the past."
Now, he looks forward to learning and continuing with his hobby of painting.
"To be here today is making me feel alive again," he said.
He said that years in prison can make it feel like "no one believes in you."
One of his attorneys, Lauren Kaeseberg said, "He never gave up, and we've always believed in him."
The attorneys raced to Dixon from Livingston County court Tuesday afternoon, encountering a dense fog that blanketed northwestern Illinois roads. Another of his attorneys, Vanessa Potkin, joked about the many obstacles to freeing Gonzalez.
"It was just one hurdle after another, right down to the fog," she said.
As he prepared to get into Kaeseberg's dark gray SUV for the long-awaited trip home to Waukegan, he joked that the vehicle was from the future.
Gonzalez's lawyers had argued that the property damage conviction should also be wiped away, not only because Lake County prosecutors now say he was in prison on a wrongful conviction but because Gonzalez, who speaks limited English, pleaded guilty to the property crime without the assistance of an interpreter.
Tuesday afternoon in Pontiac, Livingston County Judge Jennifer Bauknecht agreed to vacate the property damage conviction. Prosecutors did not object to Gonzalez's attorneys' motion and agreed to drop the charges once the conviction was vacated.
"Right now, everybody is saying, finally, there is justice for him," said Angel's younger brother, Saul Gonzalez, 34, "Finally, this is over."
The family was planning a party with his favorite foods, like chile relleno and fish, to make up for all the family events that Angel missed, said his mother, Maria Gonzalez, 67, speaking in Spanish.
While Angel was incarcerated, he missed the weddings of his brother Saul and his two sisters, as well as the births of five nieces and nephews, his family said. The children, the eldest of whom is 11, asked about their missing uncle at every family event.
Kaeseberg and Potkin hugged at the end of the hearing in Livingston County. Gonzalez had appeared by live video from the Dixon prison.
On Monday, a Lake County judge vacated Gonzalez's conviction for the abduction and rape of a woman in Waukegan in July 1994. State's Attorney Mike Nerheim agreed to ask for Gonzalez's freedom after recent DNA tests showed that bodily fluids collected as evidence had come from two men, neither of whom was Gonzalez. Nerheim, who took office long after Gonzalez was convicted, said it was clear that this indicated he wasn't guilty and two other men, who have yet to be identified, committed the crime.
Nerheim apologized for the case outside court, striking a markedly different tone than his predecessor, Michael Waller, who generally remained unapologetic in public as DNA repeatedly indicated he'd sent innocent men to prison. Five rape or murder cases have collapsed in Lake County since 2010; DNA cleared all the men, but they spent a combined 80 years behind bars. Prosecutors under Waller, who served for 22 years, were responsible for Gonzalez's prosecution and three of the other convictions.
In several cases, the prosecutor's office under Waller fought for years to prevent inmates from going free after DNA had suggested their innocence, and his office attracted unflattering national attention as prosecutors proposed alternate theories of the crimes that many found implausible.
Nerheim took office promising reform after Waller retired in 2012.
Family members never doubted Angel's innocence, Saul Gonzalez said, but they wondered if they would see him vindicated after spending thousands of dollars over the years for his defense. Their efforts seemed to be wasted until the Innocence Project took over, he said.
"We were thinking when he went to jail it was a mistake and he'd get out," Gonzalez said Tuesday afternoon, as his mother proudly displayed early family photos. "But everything went wrong."
Saul worried most of all that his parents wouldn't live to see the day Angel was released. Their father, Angel Gonzalez Sr., 68, had a stroke last year after spending years working in a factory.
"I wanted them to see him out (of prison) before they passed away," Saul said.
Saul answered phone calls all day Monday and Tuesday, as family and friends from California and Texas reacted with excitement after hearing that the charges were dropped.
His sister went shopping for clothes for Angel on Monday, Saul said.
"He's kind of scared right now," said Saul, who on Sunday reassured his brother that his family will help him adjust to the world again. "He's seen many bad things. He says he's lucky he's not crazy. He says thank God for everything. He says he's lucky to be alive."
While in prison, Angel obtained his high school diploma and learned skills in electronics, mechanics, window-washing, construction and auto mechanics, he said. He also painted pictures, including a Mother's Day card for Maria with an iris set between two hearts.
"The hardest part is over," Saul said.
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