Cold Open

It’s August 14th, 1978, in Kansas City, Missouri.

James Lewis is hard at work at his home office. As a 32-year-old accountant, his life is a constant stream of receipts, paystubs, and forms. The heat of the Midwestern summer doesn’t make his work any less tedious. Every few seconds, his electric fan stirs the thick air and sends the corners of his papers fluttering.

James is finishing up work for one of his clients when he’s startled by a knock on his front door.

Getting up, he heads down the hallway to answer it.

And on his front porch are two police officers. This is an unusual sight, but not totally unexpected. A few weeks ago, James was invited down to the station to answer some questions about a friend who’d gone missing, Raymond West. James happily submitted to the interview, and told the police plenty of what he knew about Raymond. Now, he assumes they’ve come to give him an update on the case.

But James isn’t even finish greeting the officers before they tell him they’re placing him under arrest for murder.

The police put James in handcuffs… and lead him to the squad car.

As he’s guided into the back seat, James looks back at his house, his thoughts racing. He retraces his steps, trying to piece together how he got into this mess. He doesn’t know what the cops have on him, but it must be something big.

Indeed the evidence against James Lewis looks damning. Detectives find rope in his car that matches rope found next to Raymond West’s body. James gives conflicting accounts about his whereabouts at the time of the murder. And he seems to have siphoned off thousands of dollars from Raymond’s accounts.

But despite all of this evidence, the charges against James will eventually be dropped, and he will be free to go. Because the officers who arrested him, made a mistake. They never read him his “Miranda Rights” – the speech given to all people arrested in America. And these officers should have known better, because by the time they showed up to arrest James Lewis, twelve years had passed since reading the Miranda Warning to criminal suspects was enshrined in federal law on June 13th, 1966.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is June 13th, 1966: The Origin of “Miranda Rights”.

Act One: The Bill of Rights

It’s June 8th, 1789, inside Federal Hall in New York City.

The First Congress of the United States is only a week old, and the air inside the hall is thick with anticipation. Murmurs ripple through the crowd as a delegate from Virginia rises from his seat. James Madison is 38 years old. He can feel every eye in the room watching him and he waits for the other delegates to fall silent, before beginning the opening lines of his prepared speech. He knows what’s at stake in this debate - the very future of their fledgling republic.

Two years ago, many of the same delegates who are here today came together to write the U.S. Constitution. But since that revolutionary document was sent out to the 13 states in the Union for approval, it's been met with harsh criticism. Many people fear the power the Constitution gives the new federal government might lead to the entire thing to be rejected. So now, delegates in New York have gathered to figure out what to do to make sure the foundation of their new country works for everyone.

James Madison is one of the strongest supporters of the Constitution in Congress. He knows the original document isn’t perfect, but it's necessary and he is confident that he has a solution that will allay the concerns of many critics. Now all he has to do is convince them that he’s right.

When the room finally quiets down, he begins his speech. He explains that while the Constitution as written is robust, it is not infallible. This thought provokes a few whispers of consternation in the hall, but Madison ignores them and continues. He’s spoken to the people, he says. He’s heard the earnest pleas of constituents who worry that the federal government is being given too much power, and that the War of Independence they’ve just fought against the British will result in no real change in the way the common people are governed. Madison tells the other delegates that he’s given these people his word that their concerns will be heard. And he asks his colleagues to ensure that it’s not just the government that is strong, but that its people are, too. What this First Congress needs to do is protect individual liberties with a bill of rights.

When no one shouts him down, Madison continues. He explains that something this important shouldn’t be thought of as a mere footnote to the constitution. This bill of rights will be a testament to the nation’s commitment to justice – the very principles it was founded on.

As he speaks, Madison’s heart races, but he looks around the hall and he can see that he’s winning people over. Some delegates nod quietly, others are more excited, applauding or calling out their agreement.

So, Madison goes on to makes a final point – one that is central to his argument. He tells his colleagues that a bill of rights will encourage people to educate themselves about liberty and the law, which will help protect them – and the country – from future tyranny.

This seals the deal and the First Congress agrees to add a bill of rights to the US Constitution.

Over the next two months, James Madison drafts a series of new amendments. The other delegates in New York are especially concerned about unfair persecution. They know that there are needs to be a system that protects people’s rights, while ensuring that they follow the law. In response to these concerns, Madison drafts what become known as the Fifth and Sixth Amendments.

The Fifth Amendment provides the right to due process of law and protection against self-incrimination. The Sixth Amendment guarantees individuals several things: the right to a speedy and public trial, to an impartial jury, to be informed of criminal charges, to confront witnesses, and the right to an attorney.

The exact text of the amendments is argued over and adjusted again and again. But James Madison works doggedly to see his proposal through Congress. And two years after he first stood up to speak his mind in New York, the Bill of Rights is ratified by the states.

Over the decades that follow, these first amendments to the Constitution will become a cornerstone of the American republic. But the principles behind the Bill of Rights will be repeatedly debated - and eventually, more than a century after the time of James Madison, the extent of constitutional protections will be tested by a violent criminal in the highest court in the land.

Act Two: Ernesto undone

It’s March 13th, 1963 in a police station in Phoenix, Arizona, 172 years after the ratification of the Bill of Rights.

Police officers Carroll Cooley and Wilfred Young are engrossed in paperwork when the phone rings.

Carroll answers. And the man on the other end is frantic. He explains that he’s the brother of Lois Jameson, an 18-year-old woman who was sexually assaulted the week prior. He’s just seen the car belonging to his sister’s attacker. It’s parked in the driveway of a nearby house and he’s eager for the police to know where the attacker is.

This phone call is a key lead. Right after the attack, Lois Jameson went to police and gave them a detailed account of the assault, her attacker, and his car. But they were unable to quickly apprehend the suspect. Now, the police have a chance.

Carroll and Wilfred head to their squad car and immediately drive out to the address. There, they find 22-year-old Ernesto Miranda standing near the car in question. They approach and calmly request that he come down to the station to participate in a lineup. Ernesto agrees and gets in the squad car of his own volition.

At the station, Carroll and Wilfred usher Ernesto into a lineup with other men. Then, they invite Lois Jameson to join them in the viewing room. Her nerves are palpable as she takes in the lineup through the glass. She studies the men for several minutes and then lets out a sigh. She thinks her attacker might be Ernesto, but she can’t totally be sure.

Carroll and Wilfred let Lois go, asking for her to wait outside. And when she’s gone, they exchange a knowing glance. They are both sure that Ernesto Miranda is their guy – even if Lois isn’t. So, they dismiss everyone in the lineup except Ernesto.

Then, without actually saying so, Carroll and Wilfred convince Ernesto that the victim positively identified him. And after that, they lead Ernesto to an interrogation room.

Neither of the officers inform Ernesto of his constitutional rights to an attorney, or that he has the right to remain silent as they ask him questions. Telling him these things is a standard procedure at the time, though not actual law. But for some reason, the two police officers skip this part, and dive right into questioning.

For two hours, the officers press Ernesto for answers. And the longer the interview goes on, for Ernesto the larger the mountain of evidence against him seems. He begins to feel the weight of this situation.

But if Ernesto is getting worried, the officers are secretly nervous too. They know that they need stronger evidence if they’re going to make their case. So, they arrange for Ernesto and Lois to be close enough so that they can see and hear each other. Then, the police ask Ernesto if Lois is the victim from the attack they’ve been discussing. He says that she is and that simple statement achieves two things. It confirms to the police that Ernesto is their guy, and it allows Lois to hear the voice of her attacker, which she still remembers. All of this makes the case against Ernesto much stronger.

Back in the interrogation room, one of the officers then slides a piece of paper across the table to Ernesto. It’s a pre-written confession, outlining the assault on Lois. All it needs is Ernesto’s signature.

Believing he has no other choice, Ernesto signs the confession. And with the document in hand, officers Carroll and Wilfred feel a sense of accomplishment. They believe they have brought a dangerous criminal to justice.

Two days later, Ernesto Miranda is formally charged with attacking Lois Jameson. At his trial the following month, the jury finds Ernesto guilty of rape and kidnapping, and he’s sentenced to 30 years in prison.

Ernesto’s lawyer though is not happy with the outcome. He appeals to the Arizona Supreme Court on the grounds that Ernesto was not given access to legal counsel during police questioning. He argues that Ernesto would not have confessed if he’d had a lawyer present to inform him of his right to remain silent.

But the court sees no problem with the officers’ actions and upholds the conviction. By now, though, this case is about more than just whether Ernesto did or did not commit the crime he’s accused of. It’s now about the rights of all Americans to a fair trial. And if the state of Arizona won’t uphold those rights, maybe a higher authority will. So, with the support of the American Civil Liberties Union, Ernesto will submit an appeal to the United States Supreme Court, and policing and the justice system in America will never be the same again.

Act Three: Miranda Rights

It’s June 13th, 1966, in Phoenix, Arizona, three years after the trial of Ernesto Miranda.

Twila Hoffman is at home with her three young children. After they all have breakfast on their plates, she turns on the radio. Twila tries to hide the worry on her face while she waits for the next news report to hit the air.

Twila’s ex-partner, and the father of her children, is Ernesto Miranda. He's been in prison for three years for the kidnap and rape of Lois Jameson. But today, the US Supreme Court is expected to hand down its ruling on Ernesto’s appeal.

Listening to the radio Twila doesn’t have to wait long. The announcement soon comes through from Washington DC. The Supreme Court has ruled that the police in Phoenix abused Ernesto’s Constitutional Rights. The Fifth and Sixth Amendments don’t only apply in criminal proceedings - all people accused of a crime are entitled to those protections and must be informed of their rights. This ruling means that from now on, authorities must read suspects what will become known as a “Miranda warning”, outlining suspects’ rights to remain silent and to an attorney.

But that is not what Twila is really interested in. The court’s ruling also means that Ernesto is entitled to a new trial, where the confession he signed in police custody will no longer be admissible. This makes Twila afraid. She does not want Ernesto to go free. She knows he wants to take the children away from her.

But luckily for her, and perhaps for children she has the power to control Ernesto’s fate. While Ernesto’s written confession may have to be thrown out, while he was in jail, he admitted to Twila that he did, in fact, kidnap and assault Lois Jameson.

So, Twila contacts the police and tells them what she knows. And at Ernesto’s second trial, Twila’s testimony makes the difference. Ernesto is once again found guilty and sent back to prison.

Ernesto’s case was a serious one. The rights it secured will be debated and challenged for years afterward, much like other civil liberties dating back to the time of the Founding Fathers. But many today believe the foundations of justice are stronger when even those responsible for terrible acts have certain rights and protections. It is perhaps a better legacy than Ernesto Miranda himself deserves, but one that persists more than half a century after the Supreme Court made the reading of Miranda Rights the law of the land on June 13th, 1966.

Outro

Next on History Daily. June 14th, 1985. TWA Flight 847 is hijacked en route from Athens to Rome.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Gabriel Gould.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Sarah Batcheller.

Edited by Joel Callen.

Managing producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.