Raymond Santana

 

In April 1989, fourteen-year-old Raymond Santana was brought in by New York City police and interrogated for more than fifteen straight hours. By the end of it, he confessed to a crime he had nothing to do with—the rape and assault of a young woman jogging in Central Park.

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His grandmother was there during the questioning—a small woman who didn’t speak English. Officers conducted the interrogation in English and translated parts of it into Spanish for her. But at several points, they asked her to step out of the room, sometimes for long stretches.

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While she was gone, the tone shifted. Detectives yelled at Santana, slammed furniture, whispered threats in his ear, and even lunged at him physically. Over time, he began to believe that if he didn’t say what they wanted, neither he nor his grandmother would leave the station safely.

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Terrified, Santana eventually gave in, implicating himself and two others. He was later convicted and sentenced to five to ten years in prison.

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More than a decade later, the truth emerged. Matias Reyes, a convicted murderer and rapist, confessed that he alone had attacked the jogger. DNA testing confirmed his involvement. That confession—along with the lack of any evidence tying Santana to the crime—ultimately led to Santana’s exoneration.