By Jeff Goodhart

Sometimes justice really is blind.

Ask Phillip Jackson, convicted nearly three decades ago of starting the fire that destroyed the Haines school.

Jackson served more than four years behind bars for a crime he says he did not commit –a conviction based largely on circumstantial evidence. In recent interviews, prosecutors, defense attorneys and the judge of Jackson’s 1973 court case said that’s not uncommon in the American justice system.

Jackson’s apparent innocence came to light last month when former classmate Bill Hagen admitted to Jackson that he set the fire. Two days later, Hagen gave a formal confession to Haines police.

Police chief Greg Goodman said that Hagen came to him Sept. 13 and claimed responsibility for the school fire of July 12, 1973. He also confessed to the unsolved arson blaze that damaged the local Presbyterian Church two months earlier.

As a member of the Alcoholics Anonymous 12-step program, Hagen told Goodman he was obliged to seek atonement for past wrongs.

He blamed heavy drinking the night of the fire for prompting his actions, and claimed that mental, physical and sexual abuse within his adoptive family fueled his anger and alcoholism as young man.

Hagen said he set the school fire after a night of heavy drinking at the Alaskan Bar with Jackson and a female friend. The bar no longer exists, but was located on Main Street between Second and Third avenues.

Hagen told police the trio, all in their 20s, were playing pool when a fight began. They parted company, and Hagen later found Jackson passed out in the street. Still angry, Hagen told Goodman he wanted to exact revenge, so he took some of Jackson’s clothing and identification. He carried the items to the school, where he said he found an open window and climbed in. He went to a shower room, where he took a shower, leaving Jackson’s belongings behind.

Hagen told Goodman he then went to the school auditorium, sat on the stage and remembered hearing how the stage curtains had been purchased with tobacco taxes. He lit a cigarette, reached over and set the curtains on fire. Hagen said he attempted to extinguish the fire, but was unable, so he ran away.

Hagen told police his memory of the church blaze was unclear.

Jackson said his recollection ended the night of the fire when he passed out. "The last thing I remember about that night is waking up with some clothing missing and wondering what the hell happened. I was innocent and knew damn well I was. I was set up."

Haines volunteer firefighters exhausted the town’s equipment and water supply to battle the blaze, which engulfed the school’s auditorium, six classrooms and shop. The entire building, which housed classrooms for kindergartners through high school students, suffered extensive smoke damage. The blaze also sparked a state fire marshal investigation.

Losing the school hit the town hard, said longtime resident Norm Smith, who worked an eight-hour shift on the volunteer fire crew the day of the blaze. "People were running around with tears.... The school was the focal point of the community, and when the school burned down, it devastated the community."

A couple days after the fire, Jackson said police showed up at his door and took him to the police station. "They said they found my clothes and I.D., and I asked them where they found them. They said they were in the school."

A week later, a state trooper arrested Jackson aboard the gillnet boat he was crewing on, and took him from the fishing grounds. Jackson said he was never even told the charges.

"I went to court and was charged with arson, and I said in my head, ‘Hold on now, this is a serious offense,’" Jackson said.

Jackson’s bail was set at $50,000, and after posting a 10 percent bond, he was released until the trial in November. It lasted only three days.

Prosecutors argued that finding Jackson’s clothes in the school was enough to convict, and showed that he fled the scene. But the prosecution could not provide a motive or indication that Jackson possessed the means to start a fire, such as a lighter or matches.

Only two witnesses besides the state fire marshal testified.

Bartender Madelyn Cox told investigators that Jackson had passed out in the Alaskan Bar that night and was carried outside by another patron, who placed him on a bench on Main Street.

Cyril Coyne, a realtor and insurance agent, could not identify Jackson, but said he saw an intoxicated man urinating against a building on Main Street before the fire was reported.

The defense called no witnesses or character references, saying the case was built on circumstantial evidence, implicating the wrong man. Jackson’s only tie to the scene was his clothes and wallet. Although it appeared a window had been jimmied open, no tools were found, his lawyer argued. No fingerprints were lifted.

Gail Roy Fraties, Jackson’s attorney who is now deceased, told the jury that circumstantial evidence "can be very convincing, and can produce a configuration of proof. But the circumstances in this case…can not be convincing."

Goodman said that while it’s nice to have iron-clad evidence, it’s not uncommon to rely on circumstantial evidence. "Cases are built around circumstantial evidence, and there are no absolutes for conviction. It’s always nice to have a person say they saw something with absolute certainty, but eye-witness accounts, for the jury, sometimes are not as strong as circumstantial evidence."

After eight hours of deliberation, the jury in Jackson’s case handed down a guilty verdict.

Judge Victor Carlson, who retired in 1991 after serving 20 years on the bench and now is living in Anchorage, sentenced Jackson to five years.

He defended the penalty this week. "The evidence pointed to his guilt. It showed he blacked out during a drinking bout, and did a crazy thing, and I was of the view he did that."

Carlson said that while the evidence was circumstantial, it was sufficient to support a criminal conviction.

Without any hint that the evidence was planted, former trooper Walt Ormasen said the case appeared "cut and dry."

Ormasen said "Jackson’s clothing, wallet and identification were found in the school. Obviously, he was the last person in the building. There was no evidence of anyone else being in there."

But a polygraph, hypnosis session and psychological testing conducted by the defense team demonstrated his innocence, Jackson said.

He blamed the conviction for taking away a promising career in commercial fishing. Jackson’s limited entry gillnet permit lapsed when he was in prison because it wasn’t used for three years.

"I was becoming a success, and was respected by my peers," Jackson said. "But it seemed this town had it out for me. I wasn’t only convicted by the court, but also by many people in Haines. "

Jackson unsuccessfully appealed for a new trial twice in 1974. The defense argued new information would point to Jackson’s innocence and indicate he was framed.

Jackson’s wallet was not found in the debris until two days after the blaze, after a thorough search for evidence. Clean-up efforts had already begun by then. Carlson denied the request because that information was available before trial began, and not considered "new."

In June 1975, Jackson sought parole.

Carlson recommended clemency because he said he believed Jackson had taken responsibility for his drinking problem and was not lying when he said he had no recollection of the fire.

In a letter to the parole board, Carlson wrote: "The purpose of punishment is nonexistent for an individual who truly believes that he has not committed the crime … and it has been verified by polygraph examination that he has no knowledge that he committed the crime... it is outside the Anglo-American criminal justice system to punish an individual for an act for which he can not accept responsibility."

The Chilkat Valley News this week informed Carlson of Hagen’s confession.

He said, "It is very distressing that an innocent person was convicted. I’m shocked and saddened."

Carlson said Jackson’s conviction was based on "very strong circumstantial evidence."

The prosecution’s case was particularly damning because Jackson was unable to explain his whereabouts and actions leading up to the fire, Carlson said. "That’s where the defense was disadvantaged."

The case calls to question the judicial system, Carlson said. "It highlights human nature and why we shouldn’t have the death penalty... Our system is based on humans, and humans make mistakes. It’s very sad he served time in prison."

Alaska Civil Liberties Union executive director Jennifer Rutinger said it is not uncommon for an individual to be wrongfully accused and convicted of a crime. "The system is not perfect. That is why we strongly oppose the death penalty, because that is irreversible."

Hagen will never go to prison for the crime. A five-year statute of limitations prevents the state from prosecuting him for arson, even if his confession is found to be valid, said assistant district attorney Susan McLean.

Jackson, however, could ask the state to clear his name.

Head of the Juneau public defender office David Seid said Jackson can seek "post-conviction relief" based on new evidence – Hagen’s confession.

He said the fact Jackson consistently maintained his innocence could help his case. The district court would determine whether the case has merit and appoint a lawyer. "I would take it from there," Seid said. Goodman said he has no reason not to believe Hagen’s confession. "I take things at face value. When a person tells me they did something, I believe it unless proved otherwise. Skepticism is a luxury I don’t have."

There isn’t a time limit on filing for post-judgment relief. Courts have been asked to review cases as old as 45 years, Seid said.

A black serviceman who was convicted and served time for a theft in the 1950s sought post-conviction relief in 1995, claiming prejudice. That case never made it to court, as Gov. Tony Knowles issued a pardon.

Carlson said he doesn’t believe race was an issue in Jackson’s case.

Jackson, however, said prejudice toward his Tlingit background was apparent during some proceedings. He said one court officer called him a "good for nothing Native."

While at the state prison in Juneau, Jackson helped create a Native culture group, which still exists today. The group helps Native inmates acquire high school equivalency diplomas and offers art instruction.

Jackson also helped organize the first potlatch in the prison. "I did quite a bit in jail, and I learned a lot, especially about trust and respecting others. Juneau is a hardcore jail, and there is no mending something like that."

Today, Jackson keeps to himself, living in a tidy apartment downtown with his two dogs, Pepper and Raven, who he keeps happy with daily walks.

He said he still harbors bitter feelings toward Hagen, who was out of town this week and unavailable for comment. "How can someone live with themselves for that long and say to themselves that everything is okay?"

Jackson said he’s had to live with the shame of the conviction and being judged, even today, by some community members. He said securing a permanent job has been difficult, but winterizing homes with a local Native organization, occasional building maintenance jobs and volunteering at the Haines food bank keeps him occupied. And despite financial difficulties, Jackson said he never has accepted handouts from the food bank. "I think of all the other people who need the help more."

Jackson, now 50 years old, said he’s still paying for bad choices made 30 years ago.. "Alcoholism can ruin your life and take away everything. That’s what happened to me. I was in the wrong place, at the wrong time and with the wrong people."

From Hagen and members of the community who "symbolically" convicted him, Jackson only is asking for an apology. When Hagen told him he set the fire, there was no apology, Jackson said. "He admitted it to me, and we sat for about 30 minutes talking about it, but that was it. I was really angry inside, but I didn’t act on it."

Jackson said he asked Hagen why he waited 30 years. "He didn’t answer me, then he left."

For Hagen and the community, Jackson said, "I want all of them to stand up with courage and realize they did me wrong. And instead of the jeers, I want people to say something nice to me for a change. People have gone far enough."

Jackson said he regrets that his foster parents, Austin and Lillian Hammond, died before they knew the truth about what happened. "After some time, they even started to believe I was guilty. They’ll never know now."