In the spring of 2015, I walked into the Cook County criminal courthouse at 26th and California. I was there for the resentencing hearing of Adolfo Davis, a 38-year-old man who had been given a life sentence at the age of 14.
“That’s Abner Mikva,” she exclaimed.
“Ooh,” Morfin replied with a sigh of relief.
McKay slipped up more than once, referring to Mikva as “your honor,” or “Judge Mikva.” In fact, Mikva finally asked him to stop. “There is only one judge present,” he told McKay.
“The common pattern was the uncommonness of the sentencing,” Mikva said. “Sentencing is one of the most difficult jobs that judges have because all people are different.”
As he spoke, Morfin dropped her head, pressing her thumb and forefinger into her eyes to hold back her tears. Anderson had her eyes closed and her head lowered, as if in prayer. I’d known these women long enough to venture a guess at what they might be thinking.
