Best Salsa Club

Best of SA 2013: 4/24/2013
Chris Pérez, Selena’s Husband, Faces His Past and Looks Forward, Musically

Chris Pérez, Selena’s Husband, Faces His Past and Looks Forward, Musically

Music: Chris Pérez never saw it coming. “All I ever wanted to do was play guitar,” he told the Current. “I never thought I’d be the subject of an interview... By Enrique Lopetegui 8/28/2013
Beaches Be Trippin\': Five Texas Coast Spots Worth the Drive

Beaches Be Trippin': Five Texas Coast Spots Worth the Drive

Arts & Culture: Let’s face it, most of us Lone Stars view the Texas coast as a poor man’s Waikiki. Hell, maybe just a poor man’s Panama Beach — only to be used... By Callie Enlow 7/10/2013
Chris Perez, husband of slain Tejana icon Selena, tells of romance, suffering

Chris Perez, husband of slain Tejana icon Selena, tells of romance, suffering

Arts & Culture: In one of the final chapters of his book To Selena, With Love (out March 6), Selena's widower Chris Perez mentions that Abraham Quintanilla, his former father-in-law, once... By Enrique Lopetegui 3/7/2012
A Look Back at SA\'s Homebrew History

A Look Back at SA's Homebrew History

The Beer Issue: Homebrewing is a foundational American virtue. Not just Sam Adams smiling back from the bottle that bears his name—virtually all the... By Lance Higdon 10/15/2014

Search hundreds of restaurants in our database.

Search hundreds of clubs in our database.

Follow us on Instagram @sacurrent

Print Email


New Law Helps Release SA Four, Gives Hope to Others Wrongfully Convicted

Photo: Photo by Mary Tuma, License: N/A

Photo by Mary Tuma

L-R: Elizabeth Ramirez, Anna Vasquez, Kristie Mayhugh and Cassandra Rivera

The evening of November 18, hand-in-hand, Elizabeth Ramirez, Cassandra Rivera and Kristie Mayhugh—joined by Anna Vasquez—stepped into freedom for the first time in more than a decade.

Incarcerated for crimes they say they didn’t commit, the women, known as the “San Antonio Four,” embraced family, friends and supporters, who waited patiently outside the Bexar County Detention Center for a chance to finally be reunited with the women they believe were unjustly accused and robbed of a full life.

Convicted in the late ’90s for sexually assaulting Ramirez’s two nieces, the already strange case was built upon shaky evidence, flawed forensics and possible coercion, as the Current extensively reported in our November 12, 2012 cover story. For instance, one of the two child victims, now an adult, recanted her statement last summer, conceding her father had “coached” her into making false allegations against her aunt and three friends. Further, newly presented scientific evidence invalidated testimony given by a state expert witness, pediatrician Dr. Nancy Kellogg, who at the time affirmed scars on the victim’s hymen were a result of sexual abuse.

The decision to release the women was aided by a new Texas law that bolsters the “junk science” argument in granting appeals, paving the way for historic institutional reform, say legal advocates. It is this new law—the first of its kind in the country—that could make the San Antonio Four story a harbinger of what is to come for wrongfully convicted inmates.

An eleventh hour paperwork glitch in Rivera’s file prolonged the wait, dragging out the inevitable for anxious loved ones, who hung on eagerly to intermittent updates from Paul Berry, spokesperson for the County Sheriff’s Office. Would it be 15 minutes until they could see, hug, kiss and cry with their daughter, their mother, their sister? Thirty minutes? One hour, two?

In the delayed final stretch, Ramirez and Mayhugh refused to exit without their friend—a testament to their solidarity in the fight to prove their innocence. “We’ve all come as one package since the beginning and we’re going to stay that way,” Ramirez later said of their choice to stay behind until Rivera was released.

Earlier that day, tears of joy and cheers erupted in Judge Mary Roman’s packed Bexar County courtroom when the women’s attorney announced the San Antonio Four would be out on signature bond. (Vasquez was paroled in 2012 after serving nearly 13 years behind bars.)

Rivera’s 21-year-old son, Michael, was just nine years old when his mother was sent to prison. Teary-eyed, he said he was thankful for the verdict and a chance to reconnect with her a day shy of his 22nd birthday. Outside the courtroom, tears streamed down the face of Ramirez’s mother, Gloria Herrera, also at the hearing, who said the struggle to free her daughter had been a slow one, rife with despair and sadness. In the beginning, she said, “we had no hope.”

Recently in News
We welcome user discussion on our site, under the following guidelines:

To comment you must first create a profile and sign-in with a verified DISQUS account or social network ID. Sign up here.

Comments in violation of the rules will be denied, and repeat violators will be banned. Please help police the community by flagging offensive comments for our moderators to review. By posting a comment, you agree to our full terms and conditions. Click here to read terms and conditions.
comments powered by Disqus