‘Home for the holidays’: Court vacates convictions for cousins in 1981 double homicide, Illinois’ longest-serving exonerees
Just 8 years old when her brother was incarcerated following a double slaying in a Southwest Side park, Pilar More, now 50, watched her older sibling grow up behind bars.
Her brother, James Soto, and his cousin, David Ayala were convicted of murder and other felonies in the shooting deaths of 16-year-old Julie Limas and Hector Valeriano, 18, a U.S. Marine on leave, on Aug. 16, 1981. They were sentenced to natural life in prison.
After a multi-decade fight during which the cousins maintained their innocence, a judge on Thursday vacated their convictions and Cook County prosecutors dropped all charges, making Soto and Ayala, now in their 60s, the longest-serving exonerees in Illinois history. The men were expected to be released later in the day.
“I just look forward to a time where we get to know him, and he gets to know all of us,” More said, wiping away tears after the hearing at the Leighton Criminal Court Building.
In petitions for post-conviction relief, Soto and Ayala alleged broad misconduct and a serious conflict of interest on behalf of the attorney who represented Ayala. The cousins alleged that they were convicted on witness testimony that was coerced. All witnesses but one — who defense attorneys say was a perpetrator ― later recanted their testimony.
“They both have suffered so much since they’ve been inside. They’ve accomplished so much,” Soto’s attorney Lauren Myerscough-Mueller said. “We are just so thrilled they will be home for the holidays.”
Family members crowded into the courtroom to hear the decision from Judge Timothy Joyce. They cried and hugged afterward, waving at Soto and Ayala from behind the glass separating the gallery.
Soto and Ayala, who were 20 and 18, respectively, when they were arrested, served 42 years in prison. Citing data from the National Registry of Exonerations, their attorneys noted that their four-decade sentence is the longest in the state among those found to have been wrongfully convicted.
Ayala served 15 years in the supermax facility at the now-shuttered Tamms Correctional Center, which was known for brutal conditions and where the state housed death row inmates before the death penalty was abolished in Illinois.
Soto earned a college degree from Northwestern behind bars and recently took the LSAT, family members said.
“He’s done so much while inside to improve his life, and I guarantee you in the next five years you guys will hear him on the other side helping other people,” his brother-in-law Adam More said.
Called the Piotrowski Park shootings for the park at 31st Street and Keeler Avenue, the attack happened as Limas and Valeriano stood with a group of young people, according to court documents. A third person was shot but survived.
Prosecutors had alleged Ayala ordered the hits as part of a beef between the Latin Kings and Two-Six street gangs, with Soto as a shooter.
But in court documents, Soto and Ayala allege that testimony from witnesses was coerced, including statements from the victim who survived. He initially said he was pressured by prosecutors to say he couldn’t see his attackers’ faces, the documents say, but he later identified different people.
Also key in their argument for freedom was what they said was a significant conflict of interest in which Ayala’s defense attorney also represented an alternate suspect in the shootings who was later named a witness for the prosecution.
Last year, an Illinois appeals court reversed a trial court’s decision to dismiss Soto’s and Ayala’s post-conviction petitions and ordered it back before the judge for an evidentiary hearing.
During Thursday’s proceeding, Cook County prosecutors indicated they no longer opposed the defendants’ request to vacate the convictions.
“These are not bitter men. These are men who are grateful to come home and be with their families,” said Jennifer Bonjean, who represents Ayala.
More, Soto’s sister, has a son who just turned 18, close to the age her brother was when he was locked up, she said. She wants him to know his uncle.
“It’s hard to get to know someone behind bars,” she said.
But the family’s time together for the holiday season will still have a notable absence. Her father died while his son was incarcerated, More said, growing tearful.
“I wish my dad were here,” she said. “Because he waited. My dad would have wanted to see this today.”
