As he sat in a courtroom in upstate New York, just before 10 p.m. on Nov. 8, 1994, Eric Smith showed no emotion as the verdict at his murder trial was read aloud. Guilty, the court heard, in the second degree. The Steuben County jury had been unanimous in their decision, believing prosecutors that Eric was undeniably guilty of one of the most heinous crimes imaginable: choking and bludgeoning his young neighbor, 4-year-old Derrick Robie, with a rock after he’d lured him into a small patch of woods in their town of Savona. That summer day, for the first time ever, Derrick had been allowed to walk alone to his nearby day camp.
Eric was just 13 years old when he left Derrick dead in that patch of woods on Aug. 2, 1993. When the jury’s verdict was read aloud, sealing his fate, he remained expressionless, merely casting his eyes downward.
One particular photograph of young Eric, as he sat in the Steuben County courtroom in the county seat of Bath during the contentious and closely watched trial went viral before there was such a term for when an image burns into the nation’s consciousness. Red-haired and ruddy-skinned, wearing thick glasses and a Bugs Bunny sweatshirt, this seemingly cold, perhaps perplexed, or maybe calculating young teen looks like the type of bookworm likely subjected to brutal bullying by his peers — which, by all accounts, Eric consistently had been — than a child capable of what he did: coax his sweet, younger neighbor with the promise of a shortcut, then choke him, bludgeon him with a 26-pound rock, and finally sodomize him with a stick.
Such an atrocity, and from someone so young, with no explanation, is difficult to stomach. And for Derrick’s parents, and many of those involved in the case, impossible to ever forgive, even decades later.
“As you listen, ask yourself if it is his mom’s fault? His dad’s fault? Is it his doctor’s fault? Maybe even Stephen King’s fault?” Steuben County prosecutor John Tunney had said during the trial to the jury made up of six men and six women, conceding that the boy certainly had mental health issues. “Eric Smith doesn’t present to us an absence of problems. … But a person who has a fascination or desire to hurt others doesn’t mean that person is not responsible for his acts.”
On Oc. 5, Smith, now 41, appeared before the Board of Parole for the 11th time and was granted an open release date, the New York Department of Corrections and Community Supervision confirmed in an email to Archiweekend.com. Smith may walk out of Woodbourne Correctional Facility in the Catskills as early as Wednesday.
According to a transcript of the parole hearing obtained by local news station WETM, Smith discussed what led him to kill Robie that day.
“A lot of contributing factors led up to it and he didn’t do anything to deserve it. No one deserves that type of violence. At the time I was holding a lot of anger and unresolved issues with a lot of individuals that I lashed out on (Robie) and I displaced my anger that was unresolved with other individuals on him. It should have never happened. As to why after years of reflection, looking at who I was then and what was going on, I essentially became the bully that I disliked in everything else in my life. I was constantly being targeted for being weaker, smaller, and I became the bully towards him and he didn’t deserve it.”
As Smith has served his sentence, having been moved from the juvenile justice system into an upstate prison, Dale and Doreen Robie have vehemently opposed his release, every single time their son’s killer faced the parole board over the past 17 years. When the decision to release Smith was announced in October, they declined to comment to local media.
Smith’s release comes at a moment of flux in attitudes and legal decisions about how the U.S. justice system treats juvenile offenders. After two decades of movement toward leniency in juvenile justice, the Supreme Court, now with three justices appointed by former President Donald Trump, in April made a surprising 180. The high court ruled, in 6-3 decision in the case of Jones v. Mississippi, that a judge need not make a finding of “permanent incorrigibility” before handing a juvenile offender a sentence of life without parole.
Currently, 25 U.S. states and the District of Columbia have banned life sentences without the possibility of parole for minors; in nine other states, no inmate is serving such a sentence for an offense committed as a minor. This has come after more than 15 years of SCOTUS decisions — beginning with the banning of execution of minors with the 2005 Roper v. Simmons decision— that has looked at the new scientific evidence that shows that juveniles are less culpable than adults.
This took a step forward in the arguments heard ahead of the high court’s 2010 Graham v. Florida ruling, which involved a Jacksonville teen accused of repeated robberies. How the adolescent brain differs physiologically from the adult brain, and how such differences influence a juvenile’s judgmental abilities has led to a movement toward applying neuroscientific discoveries to legal standards. This legal precedent, along with our now-deeper understanding of the development of the brain’s prefrontal cortex in the first 20 years of human life, was buttressed two years later with 2012’s Miller v. Alabama decision, the case that deemed life without parole for adolescents unconstitutional.
“It is increasingly clear that adolescent brains are not yet fully mature in regions and systems related to higher-order executive functions such as impulse control, planning ahead, and risk avoidance,” the court noted while ruling on Miller v. Alabama, referencing a brief from the American Psychological Association.
In its April about-face, which sways the justice system toward implementing one of the harshest legal punishments possible for young offenders, the Supreme Court’s new conservative majority declared that discretionary sentencing is “constitutionally necessary and constitutionally sufficient.” In his opinion, Justice Brett Kavanaugh — who in 2018 replaced Justice Anthony Kennedy, the court’s steadfast swing voter on the topic of life sentences — acknowledged that such a matter “raises profound questions of morality and social policy.” Kavanaugh added that states, local jurisdictions, and members of the public make such moral and policy judgments via sentencing laws and trial outcomes, whether by judge or jury.
Writing for the minority in April, Justice Sonia Sotomayor bristled at this notion from Kavanaugh, declaring that the court’s majority “is fooling no one” with such distortions of legal precedent.
The crux of these profound questions of morality and social policy, of course, center on how one interprets the goals of the justice and penal system. Do we merely seek vengeance and retribution through the courts and prisons? Should our sentencing guidelines exist to incapacitate the guilty — or perhaps to deter others from similar crimes? Or do we truly believe that the nation’s prisons offer the opportunity to rehabilitate and restore offenders?
Smith’s case, and the decision to grant him parole, are polarized along these lines. As CBS News reported in 2004, at the time that he was up for his first parole hearing, Smith and his attorney cited the intensive counseling he’d undergone during six years at Brookwood Juvenile Detention Center. At his 1994 trial, his defense attorney presented a diagnosis that Eric had Intermittent Explosive Disorder — a rare condition in which a person has episodes of uncontrollable violent impulses; Eric had undergone testing, including probes of his brain function and hormone levels, from doctors on both sides of the case. The jury was ultimately more convinced that this is too rare of a condition and believed the prosecution’s expert witness, who testified that IED isn’t seen in many 13-year-olds.
In contrast to his stone-faced demeanor at trial a decade prior, the then-23-year-old Smith gave a contrite and unfeigned statement to the board as he tried to seek his freedom in 2004.
“I know my actions have caused a terrible loss in the Robie family. And for that, I am truly sorry,” he said nearly 20 years ago. “I’ve tried to think as much as possible what Derrick will never experience. His 16th birthday. Christmas, anytime. Owning his own house. Graduating. Going to college. Getting married. His first child. If I can go back in time, I would switch places with Derrick and endure all the pain I’ve caused him. If it meant that he would go on living. I’d switch places, but I can’t.”
Tunney, who prosecuted Smith when he was a teen, told CBS News at the time of that 2004 hearing that there’s no way that Smith should be freed.
“I don’t doubt for a second, never have doubted, that had he not been caught, Eric Smith would have killed again,” he told the network. “And that’s terrifying.”
In October, after the announcement that Smith would be freed decades after he brutally murdered Derrick Robie, Tunney, who still works part-time for the Steuben County DA’s office, showed little confidence in Smith’s rehabilitation.
“I have no reason to believe that’s the case. Our prison system doesn’t have a particularly good record of rehabilitation,” he told Elmira station WETM last month. “But I’m hoping he proves the exception. … I frankly hope Eric Smith does well. Nobody, nobody is better off if he fails.”
The Robies seem to agree. At each of his biannual parole hearings, they have opposed Smith’s release. They have also pushed on behalf of victims’ families for parole hearings to be extended from two to five years and became staunch advocates for Penny’s Law, which lengthens the prison sentence for adolescents who kill.
“A lot of people don’t understand. They say that maybe we should just move on, which we have. We move on,” Doreen Robie told CBS News in 2004. “But, as life evolves, we also carry with us this huge burden of making sure that people don’t forget him.”
While the couple has not spoken to the media regarding Smith’s release, members of a Facebook event called “Justice for the Robie’s” is set to hold a candlelight walk in Savona on Wednesday. The walk, during which Smith’s name is not to be seen, will end at Robie’s memorial near Savona’s Little League baseball fields, according to the event’s creator.
It’s unclear if Smith will be released on his open date, or if he plans to return to Savona or to Steuben County, the only place he’s ever known freedom. According to the Department of Corrections and Community Supervision, as of Tuesday, Smith does not yet have an approved residence. Regardless of where he decides to live, Smith’s brutal crime as a child assures that legally, he will be monitored on parole for the rest of his life