Recently the Order Granting Part Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus in the Francis Hernandez case was posted online. This is the order in which United States District Judge Ronald S.W. Lew vacated Francis' death sentence due to cumulative error during the penalty phase.
I read this long, legal document with the hope of finding answers about why Francis Hernandez -- a man with whom I was briefly acquainted when I was a teen -- murdered Edna Bristol and Kathy Ryan in 1981. While reading it answered many of my questions, I found myself asking even more questions after I read it.
Chiefly, why wasn't anything done about Fran until after he committed the murders?
Francis was adopted. I didn't think the courts would open sealed adoption records. But if a defendant is facing the death penalty, I suppose defense attorneys should be allowed to look at adoption records to find mitigating evidence.
Francis Hernandez was born in 1962. Beginning in utero, he had a horrific childhood. He was the product of a relationship between a 14 year old girl and an 18 year old man incarcerated for burglary. Both of his biological parents had histories of severe mental illness. While pregnant, his biological mother drank alcohol and used drugs. His biological parents' relationship was sometimes violent. Under the circumstances, it is easy to understand why his biological mother might have thought she was doing the best thing for her son when she gave him up for adoption.
Unfortunately, Francis' adoptive parents also suffered from severe mental illness. When he was five, his adoptive mother attempted suicide, was hospitalized for three months and diagnosed as having schizophrenia, paranoid type. This was the first of several hospitalizations. According to this legal document, relatives did not want their children around her because her medications made her behave like a zombie. Why didn't anybody try to help young Fran then?
I do not blame Fran for his adoptive mother's nervous breakdown. Having worked as a psych nurse for four years, I know that schizophrenia is caused by a chemical imbalance in the brain. However, I do not believe that children should be raised by a paranoid schizophrenic because the disease is so incapacitating. Why didn't the physicians and nurses who treated Fran's adoptive mother alert social services that she was the primary caregiver of a small child?
Francis' adoptive father had mental issues himself. He was frequently absent from the home and in denial about his wife's illness. Mr. and Mrs. Hernandez tried to adopt a second child. The adoption agency turned them down. Why didn't the adoption agency notify social services about the problems they found in the Hernandez home? Why did an adoption agency allow Mr. and Mrs. Hernandez to adopt Francis in the first place?
When he was in preschool, Fran's behavior was abnormal. His preschool teacher suggested that his parents take him to a counselor. His adoptive father refused. Why didn't the preschool teacher notify social services?
Francis' adoptive parents punished him by forcefully administering enemas to him and making them hold them for 10 to 15 minutes. It's difficult to believe that nobody knew about the abuse.
Perhaps if young Francis had been removed from his adoptive parents' home and placed with a more stable family, Edna Bristol and Kathy Ryan might be alive today.
You got to be kidding me? It was his adoptive parents fault? Francis, like all of us, got to made choices with his life. No doubt his life was difficult, but in perspective, who's life isn't? Read the truth about Francis Hernandez here:
ReplyDeleteLike you, I too knew Francis, but unlike you I don't use a term of endearment, "Fran" when I mention him. He is no friend of mine nor does he deserve to be mentioned as such. I lived two blocks over on Monogram. I knew him from grade school, as we went to the same private Catholic school (Saint Maria Goretti), the same middle school (Demille) and same high school (Millikan). For me, though, my opinion of him wasn't limited to a few years of hanging out with him getting drunk and smoking pot like you say your experience with him was. What Francis did, quite truthfully, came as no surprise to my brothers, our friends in the neighborhood or me. Francis was no fun loving, joke telling guy who liked to drink beer and do drugs in Eldorado park by any stretch of the imagination. Francis was rotten to the core from an early age.
The neighborhood we grew up in was full of young energetic boys who were no stranger to fighting. We had are "blocks" we hung out on and if someone came down your street and wasn't respectful, there was a fight. If you got caught on someone's block by yourself, it was likely you were going to have to fight your way home. Kinda the way it was. It was something we all accepted and being the oldest of three younger brothers I had my share of fighting. Not just protecting my brothers, but fighting with them as well. The interesting thing about it was that one day you might fight with someone and the next day that same guy might be on your football or baseball team. No one ever really took it all that seriously. Accept for Francis...
My history with Francis started in about the fourth grade and went on almost to High School. I remember as clear as yesterday seeing Francis waiting by the gates as we would exit school at Saint Maria Goretti. He would stand there bulling kids and trying to get them to fight. Francis didn't fight to protect his block or because he had to honor his commitment to a friend or defend a brother, Francis picked on the weak and fought because he liked it. My first personal experience with this was when he laid eyes on me one day as I exited through the gates of school. I had saw this look before and this time he was coming after me. Not being one to back down, I set my books down and stood my ground.
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ReplyDeleteAs the other kids ran, it was on. We took a few swings at each other and I decided i had had enough. A quick sidestep and a shove and I put Francis down. I stood over him as he lay there and asked "Had enough" and that is when I first saw it, the look in his eyes. Francis first stared at me blankly and then began to laugh maniacally. He growled a little and then spun around and tried to grab my legs and take me down. "You got to be kidding" I thought to myself. Not wanting to engage him again I grabbed my books and ran. “What a freak” I thought to myself.
ReplyDeleteFor the rest of my years at Goretti and at the minimum of a few times a month, Francis would be out by the gates waiting for kids to fight with. Clearly he thought our fight wasn't over because if he saw me, he focused like a laser and came after me. As far as I was concerned, Francis was a freak and I saw no point in fighting him so I did everything I could to avoid him. This worked, but I knew the day was would come when I was going to have to go another round with him. I was getting tired of altering my routes home and running when I saw him. Finally I had enough.
It didn't take long and as per usual, when he saw me, he bee lined right at me. This time I figured I would have to hurt him enough for him to get the message and leave me alone so I didn't hesitate. As soon as he got close I threw a quick punch and hit him straight in the face. Francis lunged forward and down we went to the ground. We tossed and turned on the ground with neither of us really being able to gain the advantage and then Francis did something that kids just didn't do. You see, even at 12 years old in a street fight, at least back then, we all had a code of ethics. You didn't bite, you didn't purposely scratch someone, you didn't poke someone in the eye and you NEVER choked someone.
As our little wrestling match progressed it seemed that I was getting the best of Francis as I was straddling him and had his shoulders pinned to the ground. Thinking he had enough, I eased up a little and that is when he did it. Francis reached up and C clamped my throat and began to squeeze. Not a playful squeeze in an attempt to get me off of him, but a full throttle choke hold. I couldn't believe it! I looked down at Francis and he was grinning as he squeezed harder. He was clearly enjoying himself as I gasped for air. This jolted me to the reality of what was going on and I realized I was going to have to do more than punch Francis in the face and make his eyes water, so I decided to return the favor.
I rolled to the side, knocked his hand from my throat and got him in a rear bar arm choke hold. I gave it everything I had and choked the sh!t out of that punk! Francis quit struggling and started to go limp. I assumed I had choked him to unconsciousness so I slid away from him and stood up. Once again I stood over Francis, looked down at him and said "Had enough?" As Francis came to he grunted, looked at me, laughed and grinned ear to ear. I will never forget that moment. I felt that I was looking down at a monster. No kid in his right mind that had just been choked out would act that way. He acted liked he enjoyed it. I picked my books up and ran. I knew there was no way I was ever going to stop this freaky a$$ kid, he liked fighting too much. At 12 years old I don't think I knew what the word sadistic meant, but that was clearly what I saw that day. No doubt about it.
ReplyDeleteNo one in the neighborhood ever really figured it out, but they used to say it was because he was filled with so much hate. We never knew for sure, but the story was that Francis was adopted and hated his parents. I can't personally speak to the truth of that matter, but what I can tell you, for a fact, is that my brothers and I used to walk by Francis's house on a regular basis and with an alarming rate of consistency, when you passed by, whether it was day or night, you would hear Francis screaming at his parents. You could hear things being thrown, objects breaking and household objects being smashed. The cops came to that house on more than one occasion and parents in the neighborhood said that Francis had threatened the very life of his own mother. Francis was the kid you didn't hang around with unless you wanted trouble.
From grade school and on through to High School our paths crossed. A few little fights here and there, but as I grew older and wiser, Francis grew older and more irresponsible. Yeah, I drank a few beers at Eldorado park too, but Pot, LSD and the drugs Francis did and the people he hung out with were clearly indicators of a person who just didn't care. Not the person I was interested in hanging out with. Like I said, it was no surprise to my brothers, our friends in the neighborhood or me when we heard Francis brutally raped, tortured murdered and burned those innocent victims. Anyone with eyes could see it coming. Francis was by no means a “Cool guy who had a good sense of humor" as you wrote in your blog. He was a sick, twisted kid, who from a very early age, even when he had every chance to do right, chose to do EVIL.
To this day I keep in touch with the core group of guys I grew up with in that neighborhood. We all made our mistakes, but almost without exception, we are a good group of guys who have all become successful and live an amazingly blessed life. Except Francis of course, but that was a choice he made…
Thank you for sharing your story about Francis.
DeleteYes, I was briefly acquainted with Fran when we were teens. But I did not know him well enough to know what a monster he was on the inside. To me, he was just another kid who hung out at the park.
Over the past year, I have learned more about him than I ever wanted to know.