When a source first told me about the case of Lloyd Gray in late 2024, I jotted down these notes: two Black jurors, a swastika and Gov. Jeff Landry. That was an oversimplification of a deeply troubling issue, but it also got to the heart of a story published this week by ProPublica and Verite News that haunts Louisiana and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.
Gray was just 19 in 1980 when he was tried in a New Orleans courtroom on a charge of aggravated rape. After one day of testimony, the jury returned with a 10-2 split verdict. The 10 white jurors voted guilty and the only two Black jurors not guilty. If you’re a regular consumer of courtroom dramas, you might think a split verdict would mean a mistrial, and today it would. But back then in Louisiana, where nonunanimous juries were legal, it resulted in a life sentence for Gray.
Covering the criminal justice system in Louisiana often means familiarizing myself with things people in other parts of the country might find shocking. For instance, many might be surprised to learn that here, for more than 120 years, the state allowed people like Gray to be sent to prison for life even though two jurors voted not guilty. The only other state to do the same was Oregon.
In 2020, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that the practice was unconstitutional and based on an inherently racist law meant to uphold white supremacy, but the decision only applied in cases going forward; the court left the decision about what to do with those convicted long ago to the states. Louisiana refused to reconsider the convictions of more than 1,000 mostly Black men sent to prison for lengthy sentences by those split-jury verdicts.
Reporting here can often be a surreal experience. Even when you think you’ve reached a level of cynicism that can’t be breached, something new comes along that shocks your system. For me, that was the swastika.
While Gray’s former attorney was explaining the ins and outs of his case to me, he mentioned that at some point, someone had drawn the Nazi hate symbol on the cover of Gray’s case file. And sure enough, when Gray’s attorneys sent me the cover page of his file, there it was, in the upper right corner: a small doodle of a swastika.
It was hard to contemplate how, even as recently as the 1980s, someone would feel comfortable enough to draw such a disgraceful thing on a government document without fear of repercussion. The district attorney’s office does not dispute its existence or that a staff member might have drawn it, but it doesn’t know who or when.
Credit:
Obtained by ProPublica and Verite News. Highlight added by ProPublica.
The Louisiana Department of Public Safety and Corrections denied our request to interview Gray, either by phone or in person, so the only way to communicate with him for the story was via his attorneys. I provided them with questions, and they relayed his responses.
I wanted to know what his life was like before that fateful night in 1980 when he was accused of rape. He described a happy childhood, saying: “The beauty of it is we were loved. Me and my sister, my brother, we were loved.” But he also recalled witnessing his mother’s mistreatment at a gas station at a young age. “It opened my eyes to racism at its finest,” Gray said.
Gray’s attorneys contend that the swastika, along with the two Black jurors voting to acquit, among other issues, proves that his prosecution was tainted by racial bias and should be enough to, at the very least, reconsider Gray’s sentence.
At one point, the New Orleans District Attorney’s Office appeared to agree and proposed a plea deal that would allow for Gray’s release. In Oregon, after the Supreme Court’s 2020 ruling, the state vacated the sentences of everyone convicted by a nonunanimous jury, after which prosecutors offered plea deals with reduced sentences that allowed many to walk free.
But again, this is Louisiana. Unlike Oregon, the state Supreme Court decided not to vacate old split-jury convictions and left it to the Legislature to deal with the issue. In turn, lawmakers, backed by Landry, shut off all paths to freedom for people like Gray. They not only shot down legislation allowing for older split-jury verdicts to be reexamined, they passed a bill gutting the ability of prosecutors to offer plea deals. (The Landry administration did not respond to requests for comment.)
The impact of this law played out in Orleans Parish Criminal District Court in late August when the district attorney’s office told Judge Robin Pittman that the new law prevented it from waiving a missed filing deadline by Gray and, as a result, it couldn’t broker a deal. Pittman set a new hearing for Oct. 30 at which she will decide if Gray’s case, in which he asked for his sentence to be reconsidered, can move forward.
“When you’re sent to prison with a life sentence, they send you here to die,” Gray told me through his attorneys. “After 45 years, I’m no closer to freedom than the day I walked into this place.”
