Things Don’t Always Add Up: Why MIP’s Newest Senior Staff Attorney  joined the fight for justice

 

 “In any post-conviction work, we’re pushing a big rock up a steep hill. 

 

Sometimes, it rolls back a bit, and those moments are devastating. There’s grief. There’s mourning. But when we keep going, when we get to the top – there’s nothing better. It’s euphoric. 

 

It changes the lives of everyone involved.”

 

That’s MIP Senior Staff Attorney Evan Glasner, who joined our team just six months ago. Evan represents clients in all stages of post-conviction litigation, and brings an unrelenting commitment to integrity, collaboration, and empathy to his work with MIP. 

 

Evan, tell us a little bit about what brought you to MIP.

 

In my third year of law school, I enrolled in the Duke Wrongful Convictions Clinic. My clinic partner and I were placed on a case that was set for an evidentiary hearing in the spring. Remarkably, during that evidentiary hearing, our client was exonerated. 

 

It was just like you might see on TV. 

 

The judge ruled from the bench that our client’s conviction was overturned. He walked out the door that day.

 

That was my first real experience with this work. And I remember my professors telling me ‘It will never get better than this.” And that’s true. I didn’t know enough at the time to truly appreciate how right they were in the moment, to understand the years, or decades, of struggle it took to achieve. 

 

My experience working on that case changed my life.

 

After law school, I worked at two law firms in New York and clerked for a federal judge, picking up innocence pro bono work where I could along the way. Sometime in the middle of a post-conviction case at my last firm, I realized I really wanted to be doing innocence work full time. I had no idea how I was going to untangle myself from firm life, but I kept coming back to that victorious moment in law school. I just knew that’s what I wanted to do.

 

Serendipitously, I saw on Instagram that the Duke Wrongful Convictions Clinic was hiring a clinical fellow. Sure enough, I soon found myself back at Duke doing the work I loved. 

 

When those two years at Duke were up, MIP happened to be hiring. I knew this was a long-standing organization with a history of exceptional work. The opportunity to work with and learn from them really excited me.

 

And I guess the rest, as they say, is history. 

 

Are there any moments that really stand out for you in your first six months at MIP?

 

So far, I’ve been fortunate enough to meet two of the clients I’m working with – I appreciate being able to get to know a client face-to-face. I think getting to know our clients, really seeing them and treating them with respect and dignity, is something MIP does extremely well.

 

Tragically, Marcellus “Khalifah” Williams was executed not that long into my tenure. In North Carolina, where I’d been working, no one has been executed in almost 20 years, and none of our clients were on death row. The finality of execution was new to me, the tragedy of not being able to make it right. There is no bringing him back. It’s a tragedy that will fuel my commitment to fight with all I have for clients moving forward. 

 

What are some of the cases that have your focus currently?

 

Celester (Les) McKinney is a Kansas City client who served 20 years for a crime he didn’t commit. 

 

It’s a fascinating story. More than 20 years ago, someone was shot and killed in an alleyway behind the house where Les, his two cousins, and his uncle lived. 

 

The victim was a relative of Roger Golubski’s ex-wife.

 

Roger Golubski was a Kansas City, Kansas police detective accused of misconduct, criminal behavior, and “the grossest acts of corruption a police officer can commit.” He never went to trial, because on the day his federal trial was set to begin in December, he was found dead by suicide in his home.

 

In Les’ case, the police never knocked on his door to ask what had happened. No one ever really talked to him. A circus of things happened next. The police coerced testimony from Les’ uncle that implicated him, his brother, and his cousin. The uncle tried to recant that testimony even before the first of the three trials. Les’ cousin was tried and convicted first, but at the second trial – Les’ brother’s trial – the uncle’s testimony wavered so much that his brother was acquitted. Les was tried last and, after more coercive conduct by the State, Les was convicted. 

 

Les and his cousin, Brian Betts, served more than 25 years before they were released on parole. But the fight to exonerate them carries on.

 

Right now, we have a pending motion asking for a new evidentiary hearing so we can present all of the evidence of Les’ innocence.  

 

This is definitely long-haul work. What keeps you motivated to continue the fight? 

 

On his show Last Week Tonight, John Oliver pointed out, accurately, that every time someone loses a case on a Law & Order type television show, they say “It’s okay, we’ll appeal, don’t worry.” But that’s not how it works in the real world. It is very difficult to overturn a conviction. Post-conviction work takes years, and it’s incredibly challenging. 

 

I think it matters to keep revealing the truth of our criminal legal system. We’ve come a long way with the Innocence Movement – people know so much more today than they used to. We’re teaching people to be a little more skeptical, to pry a little more, to dig into things instead of just trusting the system. The continued effort to uncover the truth and achieve justice for our clients is a powerful motivating force.

 

What do you wish everyone understood about innocence work in the US in 2025?

 

I’d encourage everyone to be curious. Question what is presented by law enforcement and by the prosecutor. They have tremendous resources and power on their side, and they’re often prosecuting powerless and under-resourced folks. Things don’t always add up. 

 

I love innocence work because I believe that it matters. To each client, to their family and community, and to our system as a whole and the way we approach justice. There’s always more to be done, always something new to think about. 

 

It never stops being interesting to me. There are always more pieces of the puzzle to find. There’s always a new way to put them together.

 

There’s always a stronger argument to make.