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Profile Matthew Kemp
by Marlene Hartman Fifteen
years ago, my husband and me celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary.
We had a nice quiet diner followed by a tranquil walk on the beach. As
the sun started to go down , we laid out a blanket in the sand to enjoy
the stars. The out of nowhere, two men approached, both with sawed off
shotguns. In our small town, crime was almost unheard of, but here we
were getting robbed. We
were told to hand over all of our money and take off all of our jewelry.
I refused to hand over my wedding ring and one of the gunmen shot my
husband in the chest – boom. He fell down into the sand in a pool of
his own blood. As I bent down to aid him, I too was shot in my upper
right shoulder. The gunmen ran off leaving both for dead. I was not dead
but I wanted to die, to be with the one and only man that I had ever
loved. I promised on the grave of my husband I would never forget the
face of the assailants and that one day I would see them pay for what
they had done. Not
long after my husband’s funeral, another couple was vigorously
attacked a few miles away from our town. This time the assailants had
killed the couple and got caught fleeing the scene. Our
sheriff came to see me and escorted me to make a positive identification
at a line-up in the city courthouse. Without hesitation, I picked out
the two men that shot me and killed my husband. After
two long exhausting trials, both men were found guilty of three counts
of first-degree murders and one count of attempted murder. Each day I
walked into the courtroom and came face to face with the assailants. Day
after day, I had to relive that tragic night that my husband was taken
away from me. Plus, I had to live with a secret that no one else knew,
no one but the two assailants and I. When
the trials were over, getting back to a state of normalcy was illusive.
So much so that I packed my bags, sold the house that was full of so
many glorious memories and
moved to a large city in search of a fresher start. I came to It
took me under a year to settle into my new life. I was blessed to find a
suitable job and a nice apartment. Just
when I thought that everything would be okay and I renewed my
relationship with God, I received a word that a young man was arrested
in the The
detectives came to me needing to know if in fact I had any information
that I wanted to give that was not given at the or around the time of
the trials? NO, NO, NO, NO…. This was not happening to me! But it was.
One single question that would once again shatter my life. The detective
wanted to know if I was raped the night that my husband was killed. I
tried to elude this question, but too many pieces were coming together.
I had to tell the truth. What
hurt me the most was not the fact that I was raped, but it now became
part of the news for the world to know. I wanted to know how I could
misidentify my assailants.! I promised on the grave of my husband that I
would never forget the face of the two men, but something had gone
wrong. Not only did I point them out of a line up the courthouse at
pre-trial, but also I again pointed them out at the trial. Haven’t
I already ran away from the town and community that I had loved all my
life, I refused to run anymore. I started to ask questions, not only
about my mistaken identity, but I also started to question all the other
evidence that “allegedly” pointed to the two men. I took sick leave
from my job and went on a search for truth. Time
after time, I ran into one brick wall after another. No one would talk
to me. The more I pushed to make things right, I was looked at as if I
was the one guilty. I even fought to visit the two men so that I could
look them in the faces and work to make things right. Their lawyers
fought me off. Soon my sick time was over and I had to return to work. I
wanted to fight more but I could not afford to lose my job. Not
long after returning home, a number of grass root organizations started
a movement to stop executions and to end death by state. I answered the
call to help fight this evil. But I did not do so in the dark. A brief
study of the facts show that of the 200-plus inmates sentenced to death
in this state, 90% is from I
knew that I had to help, and when on the second of February 2001 the
Philly Daily News ran an article that the death warrant of Matthew Kemp
was signed by then At
the time of my call, I also learned that Kemp’s mother worked as an
organizer for the Abolitionist. She was one of the few people that
helped raise money for the round trip bus ride from Philly to Waynesburg
so that families of the condemned could visit with their loved ones. I
was able to talk to Matthew’s mother and she gave me a brief break
down of the circumstances surrounding her son’s conviction and
promised me that she would be able to give me some helpful information
about his case if it was first okay with her son. Since he was due to
make his fifteen-minute phone call at any moment, we rushed off the
phone so that the line would not be tied up. We exchanged phone numbers
and I hung up to wait about half an hour for Brinda to call me back. Not
only did she have good news about giving me copies of her son’s record
but she also told me a little about herself, her family and Matthew’s
twine children that he had custody of since they were very young. As
soon as I got off the phone with her, I was out of the door on my way to
pick up the package. Brinda
was waiting for me just outside the office of the Abolitionists. We
briefly embraced as if we knew each other longer then we did. I asked
Brinda about the research that I already had done and how all the
information on the World Wide Web was about Mumia. Updates about
Mumia’s court dates,
meetings, dinners and everything you wish to know about Mumia, yet
nothing much about the other inmates from Philly. She told me, “we can
not blame Mumia for the support that he has, we must blame ourselves for
being so unsupportive”. Brinda gave me the copies of information and I
could not wait to read the stuff, so I started to read it right away in
the downtown parking lot. The
first thing that I read was Matthew’s arrest warrant. All of the
information from the homicide investigation pointed to someone named,
John Mark Jones. How did the warrant for probable cause turn from Jones
to kemp? I do not know. Next
I read the statement by Edith Broozer that stated in part that she is a
44-year old i.v. heroin junky for the last 25 years. The night in
question (4:00 a.m.) she was on the steps close to the scene of the
crime in what sounds like a drug nod (in and out of concieness). She
stated that she didn’t know when, if anyone ran by the steps she was
sitting on and that she didn’t hear about the killing until the next
morning. In the very same statement, she stated that she did see someone
run by. That he was 5’8” to 5’10”. Matthew is 6’2”. Most
startling is the last question she was asked in her statement: question:
Edith can you read or write English language? Answer:
Yes, but I need glasses real bad. Leonard
Robinson testified that he was asleep the night in question, that he
heard gunshots and turned over and went back to sleep. Only to change
his testimony mid-stride and
say that he heard and saw everything. He was given a photo array and
picked out John Jones as the killer. Eugene
Andersen gave a statement that said that “Matt” told me he did the
shooting. The
last information that I read was an affidavit by Wilbert Golgen. Wilbert
stated the detective told him that he was charged with murder and was
going to the death penalty unless he told them that “Matt” was the
killer. He was scared and so he lied (to them) and told them that Matt
was the killer. Now
I am not a lawyer, not even an investigator but I know deep in my heart
that no man should be put to death with evidence as murky and foul as
that, that’s against Matthew Kemp. I
dedicate my all to see that justice comes to this case and plead with
you to join me in this fight. “If
anyone is interested in learning more about Mr. Kemp’s case, pick up
your pen and write to him. Ask questions in areas of concern about the
issues in his case, ask for copies of documents. Please get involved by
making telephone calls on his behalf, or send faxes. Never think that
your single voice is not important, I invite you to write to Mr. Kemp. Address:
“The
man who ops for revenge, should be digging two graves.” Chinese
Proverb
My
tears only shall fall for a reason.., But
justice must prevail forever…
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