VIRGINIA BEACH — The months following Darnell Phillips’ 2018 release from prison were a whirlwind.
Most notably was the standing ovation Phillips received from Virginia lawmakers after he was introduced on the Senate floor several months after being set free. Afterwards, senators shook his hand, put an arm around his shoulder, and posed for pictures with him. Some even offered their apologies for the more than 27 years Phillips spent behind bars for the rape and beating of a 10-year-old girl that he’d always maintained he didn’t commit — and that now even the victim was saying he was innocent of.
Hosts of multiple podcasts, radio shows, and streaming TV programs also reached out, inviting Phillips onto their programs to tell his story. Among them was Jason Flom, a nationally known criminal justice reform advocate and a founding member of the Innocence Project who hosts a podcast called Wrongful Conviction.
“It was beautiful,” Phillips said of all the people wishing him well and offering their support in those early months.
“But then nothing happened.”
Phillips had gotten his freedom back — and reunited with his family and the fiancee who’d supported him throughout his incarceration — but he was still a felon. He hadn’t been exonerated, he’d been paroled, which meant that the convictions a jury issued at the end of his August 1990 trial for rape, sodomy and malicious wounding remained on his record.
The convictions also required that he register as a sex offender, severely limiting where he could go, what he could do and whom he could be around.
“Every day it’s a reminder that I have to be extra careful,” Phillips said. “You don’t want to do anything or go anywhere that could get you in trouble.”
With all the attention his case received after his release, and the strong legal support he was still getting from the Innocence Project Clinic at the University of Virginia School of Law, Phillips felt sure that an exoneration from the governor would be coming.
But 6½ years later, he’s still waiting.
“I’m absolutely stunned,” Phillips said of his inability to get an absolute pardon. “I should have never been incarcerated. I was robbed of my whole life pretty much since I was 18. I feel I was robbed of time, opportunities, careers, children, and spending time with my family.”
Jennifer Givens, director of UVA’s Innocence Project Clinic and one of the lawyers who helped Phillips win his freedom, also is discouraged by the lack of action on his petition. Three different governors have been in office since it was first filed.
“I am disappointed but my experience with the pardon process is that things move extraordinarily slow,” Givens said. “So, no, I’m not surprised.”
The failure to get an absolute pardon also prevents Phillips from getting compensation from the government. State law allows exonerated defendants a base compensation of $55,000 per year of incarceration, adjusted annually for inflation. Extra compensation for intentional acts, such as misconduct by law enforcement, could net more. Now 53, Phillips was 19 when he was sent to prison and 46 when released. Even without an inflation adjustment, his more than 27 years behind bars would mean a payment of at least $1.5 million.
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The crime
The brutal assault occurred in the summer of 1990, in a park in Virginia Beach’s Timberlake community. A 10-year-old girl was walking her bike across a narrow wooden bridge when a man she’d seen earlier came up behind her, grabbed her and forced her to the water’s edge below, where he raped and beat her.
The girl told police her attacker was a Black man, about 6 feet tall, with a heavy build and out of shape. He was wearing a white shirt with a green “42” on it, had a gold tooth on the left side, a hoop earring and a black hat with an emblem she believed was red. The description was soon broadcast to other officers.
A short time later, a patrol officer came across Phillips, then 18, and his friend, Michael Norfleet, who were standing outside Norfleet’s house, about a half-mile from the crime scene.
The officer noted that Norfleet was wearing a white shirt, but there were no numbers on it. Phillips had on a brown and black shirt and black pants. But a few things about him caught the officer’s attention: He was about 6 feet tall, had a black hat with a red Chicago Bulls logo, and a gold tooth on the left side.
The officer took a picture of Phillips with the hat on, which was shown to the victim at the hospital. She told detectives she wasn’t sure about the man, but she recognized the hat. Police later showed her two photo lineups, including one that had Phillips’ picture in it, but she never picked a photo.
During a 2018 phone interview with The Pilot, the victim said she came to believe Phillips was her attacker based on what detectives told her, including false claims that her blood had been found on his underwear, and that he had a history of doing bad things to children. She also said that when she was asked at trial if she saw her attacker in the courtroom, she pointed to Phillips because that’s what she had been instructed to do.
Phillips was arrested two days after the attack and brought to a police station for a late-night interrogation. Two detectives spent four hours questioning him but were unable to get a confession. A homicide detective then asked if he could have a go at it. He testified at trial that he got a confession within minutes, but conceded he didn’t record it, and didn’t get a signed statement from Phillips.
Also key to the prosecution’s case was testimony from a well-known hair analysis expert and former head of the FBI’s microscopic hair comparison unit, who told jurors that a hair found on a sheet wrapped around the victim after the attack was similar to ones taken from Phillips. But DNA testing conducted on that same hair years later proved it wasn’t his. Also, the microscopic hair comparison science presented at Phillips’ trial — and thousands of others across the country — was later discredited as junk science.
Phillips testified in his own defense, and denied raping the girl. Norfleet testified that Phillips was with him at the time, and a plastic surgeon told jurors Phillips couldn’t have been wearing an earring that day: His ear had been pierced at one time, the surgeon said, but the hole had been closed for years.
The all-white jury convicted Phillips of all charges except attempted murder. The panel recommended that he serve 100 years in prison.
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Winning freedom
The UVA Innocence Project took on Phillips’ case in 2015 after a visit from Phillips’ sister. The defense team sent the evidence out for testing, and in 2017, a California lab reported that it had located male “touch DNA” — evidence left by skin cells — on the victim’s clothing. The lab ruled out Phillips as the source in three of four samples found, but couldn’t definitively exclude him from the fourth.
Shortly afterward, one of Phillips’ Innocence Project attorneys visited the victim at her home in Georgia and obtained an affidavit from her saying she may have identified the wrong man.
The defense team asked a three-member state Court of Appeals panel to declare Phillips innocent, but the request was denied. The Supreme Court of Virginia refused to hear the case because it only considers DNA results obtained from Virginia state labs. The only option after that was to get a pardon from the governor.
Terry McAuliffe was governor when the petition was first submitted, and was followed by Gov. Ralph Northam, both Democrats. Neither acted on it. Since governors tend to issue the majority of their pardons at the end of their term, Phillips is praying that Republican Gov. Glenn Youngkin will act on it before he leaves office in January.
State records show Youngkin has issued around 160 pardons during his 3½ years in office, far fewer than the 1,200 Northam issued. Most all were simple pardons, which is an official statement of forgiveness but doesn’t remove the conviction or convictions from the person’s record. Only two of Youngkin’s pardons have been absolute pardons, and both were for misdemeanor crimes.
Peter Finocchio, Youngkin’s press secretary, said in an email to The Pilot that his office can’t comment on pending pardon decisions.
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Since his release
Phillips received his ministry license while in prison and led Bible studies for other inmates. He earned a doctorate in theology from Tabernacle Bible College after he got out, and started a car detailing and small trucking business that later closed. His doctorate thesis largely centered on his life story, and his efforts to stay positive throughout his incarceration and help others through his ministry.
Phillips and his fiancee, Nichelle, got married in May 2021. The two met in December 1990, while he was out on parole. Nichelle supported him throughout his incarceration, writing letters and visiting often. The couple now lives in the Kempsville home where Phillips was raised.
“He’s the strongest man I’ve ever known,” Nichelle said. “Hardworking, loving. I just have so much respect for him. He’s been through so much and I want him to have everything that he deserves — sooner rather than later.”
These days, Phillips is mostly focused on his ministry. He tapes his spiritual messages every Saturday at a small church in Norfolk. Nichelle records them using a cellphone and ring light. The half-hour videos are then streamed on the Goodvue Network, a free, faith-based streaming platform that can be found on Roku, Apple TV, Fire TV and others.
Pastor Duke White, one of the founders of Goodvue Network, is among Phillips’ biggest supporters. The network reaches more than a million viewers, White said, and Phillips’ videotaped messages have been popular.
“His program has been in the top 10 five or six times in the past year,” the pastor said. “He’s been a profound teacher and a profound leader and it’s only going to grow.”
White also has had Darnell as a guest on some of his programs.
“His story is so inspiring and profound,” White said. “He’s been betrayed by so many and yet his level of forgiveness is extraordinary.”
Phillips said that while he’s extremely grateful for the efforts of his family and lawyers in securing his release — and the bravery of the young victim who came forward several years ago to say that she believed she’d identified the wrong man — his journey won’t be complete until he’s officially declared innocent.
“It (an absolute pardon) would mean true freedom for me,” he said. “It would just give total restoration and healing in my life. It would make me whole.”
Jane Harper, jane.harper@pilotonline.com