Motherhood & Justice: Bobbi Clincher's Twenty-five Year Saga
Rebekah Price
December 04, 2008
What would we do for our children?
As mothers we love them, unconditionally. We nurture them, we teach them, and we hold them. We care for them, and we worry for them. We laugh with them and we cry with them. We lose sleep over them and we pray over them so that someday, somehow--in spite of themselves and us--they will learn to fly from their nests and start lives of their own.
What happens when a fledgling is snatched from its nest, away from the safe confines of its mother? Experiences, good and bad, will shape its life from thereon. And what happens to the mother left behind, who can only watch her baby from afar?
Roberta Clincher is a mother who can only love a child she can not free. For twenty-five years she has watched her son, Barry Beach, languishing behind state prison bars, sentenced for one hundred years without parole for a murder she knows he did not commit. Though at times she has had her doubts that Barry will see the light of day outside the prison walls, she remains unashamedly committed to proving his innocence.
That is far from the end of the story of Roberta Clincher.
Roberta, known affectionately as Bobbi to her friends, was once on track to become a nurse. The demands of nursing school forbade girls to marry with more than six months left in the Catholic based program. Unplanned pregnancies would interfere with the curriculum, they reasoned. Bobbi and her sweetheart married secretly, but time stolen by her intense training and his military commitments led her to change her dream and she dropped out just before completing her nursing program.
Bobbi was meant to be a nurse--with or without her diploma. She worked over twenty years in hospitals and assisted living facilities caring for the sick, the infirmed and the elderly. Most patients under her care now are in their nineties, with one resident nearing 100 years of age. Bobbi realizes after all this time the reward is not in the degree nor in the pay, it is in the love she receives from her patients, the gratitude she sees in their eyes. She is family to them, as they are to her, and she adds them to the family she has grown through the years.
Bobbi Clincher raised three children of her own, seven stepchildren, four adopted children and she is balancing all of it with raising two of her grandchildren. One daughter recently had surgery; another is about to have a baby. Two sons are quadriplegic, with one on a ventilator, and she cares for another with special needs.
Her tasks are daunting: already most of us could not keep up with her average day. Yet Bobbi forges on.
In just over a year, Bobbi lost her sister, her brother, her husband and her daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Six days after her husband died, Barry´s appeal for parole ended in a denial, then Bobbi´s body said enough. She had a heart attack.
Recovered but mindful of her own health, she continues to care for her family, her patients, the ones she loves. And she never gives up on Barry.
"Barry´s my hero," she said, her voice quietly demure yet resolved. "I knew he was innocent from the start and I made a vow to try and help him. I can not imagine all he has been through without having bitterness. He has done everything to be the strength for others around him."
Bobbi spoke of Barry´s ordeal--a broken nose, stab wounds, showdowns with other inmates--all unthinkable for a mother who can not protect her child. She tells of Barry´s travels, being incarcerated in and relocated to seven different facilities in the past twenty-five years. She describes his stories of frost being so thick on the inside of the cell walls that the blocks work like an old fashioned ice box. She proudly speaks of Barry leading others by his good example in prison, how inmates and guards alike respect him. And she prays for him every day.
Once a month she takes the three to four hour drive to see Barry, receiving a warm welcome of the minimum hug allowed by the guards. "We even tease Barry," she chuckled. "We ask him when he does get out and goes to Target, will he go through the automatic doors or will he stand there all day waiting for someone to open them." Her light chuckle ends with a sigh, and silence.
For so long his mother was the only one to stand fast and fight for his freedom. Newcomers to this story will wonder "why now?"--why is Barry Beach still in prison if in fact he is innocent? Why all of a sudden is his family saying he is not the murderer? Jaded ones will shake their heads and turn the page to the next news.
Barry´s journey has been nothing but a tragic comedy of errors. While the attorney general says "something should have already happened" if he were truly innocent, just look at his legal history. According the Bobbi Clincher, Barry spent nine months in jail without being arraigned. His first attorney, Paul Kidd, was not present during Barry´s questioning and subsequent "confession". The second attorney, Frances McCardle, constantly conferred with the county attorney and the judge, allowing Barry´s defense position to be changed from juvenile to adult without a hearing.
The third attorney, Timer Moses "just didn´t fight for Barry," says his mother. A look at the case reveals there was probable prosecutorial misconduct by then prosecutor Marc Racicot, and Timer Moses did not challenge him. Next, a law clerk, Dick Carstenson, took interest in the case, but because of family issues he could not focus and "got into trouble with time limits.
Then came another lawyer, a law student and finally Wendy Holton, who at least got Barry´s case to federal court. And though the time limit had passed, the court decided his case did "have merit". Now, Centurion Ministries and the law offices of Peter Camiel are working diligently to clear Barry´s name. But the process is painfully slow.
Each day for Bobbi Clincher is filled with working tirelessly for others. Especially Barry. Like a good mother would, she will not give up on her son. To paraphrase a great woman, I can not imagine all she has been through without having bitterness. She has done everything to be the strength for others around her.
How about the rest of us getting some answers and helping her out? The power of the pen can not be denied.
Ask the questions that need to be answered, like why Vance Curtis, Chairman of the Montana Board of Pardons and Parole, indicated to Bobbi Clincher that the Board finally made a "good decision" for her--a statement that was overheard by attorney Peter Camiel and others--only to have Barry denied any chance of freedom. Or why Marc Racicot was allowed to get away with perjury during the parole board hearing, and his prosecutorial misconduct twenty-five years ago. And, by the way, how many other innocent folks are stagnating in jail, lined up like rungs on Racicot´s personal political ladder? (Dan Weinberg, you are going to be very busy.) Or why Timer Moses "can´t recall" anything about this case. Or how come everyone in Poplar, Montana knows Barry Beach did not murder Kim Nees and no one will do anything about it. And why does Barry Beach continue to be a political prisoner at the whim of the state of Montana?
How about it, Governor Schweitzer? Isn´t it time to take a good, hard look at this case and do the right thing? The election is over, so there should be no excuse.
All any mother wants is justice for her child.
As mothers we love them, unconditionally. We nurture them, we teach them, and we hold them. We care for them, and we worry for them. We laugh with them and we cry with them. We lose sleep over them and we pray over them so that someday, somehow--in spite of themselves and us--they will learn to fly from their nests and start lives of their own.
What happens when a fledgling is snatched from its nest, away from the safe confines of its mother? Experiences, good and bad, will shape its life from thereon. And what happens to the mother left behind, who can only watch her baby from afar?
Roberta Clincher is a mother who can only love a child she can not free. For twenty-five years she has watched her son, Barry Beach, languishing behind state prison bars, sentenced for one hundred years without parole for a murder she knows he did not commit. Though at times she has had her doubts that Barry will see the light of day outside the prison walls, she remains unashamedly committed to proving his innocence.
That is far from the end of the story of Roberta Clincher.
Roberta, known affectionately as Bobbi to her friends, was once on track to become a nurse. The demands of nursing school forbade girls to marry with more than six months left in the Catholic based program. Unplanned pregnancies would interfere with the curriculum, they reasoned. Bobbi and her sweetheart married secretly, but time stolen by her intense training and his military commitments led her to change her dream and she dropped out just before completing her nursing program.
Bobbi was meant to be a nurse--with or without her diploma. She worked over twenty years in hospitals and assisted living facilities caring for the sick, the infirmed and the elderly. Most patients under her care now are in their nineties, with one resident nearing 100 years of age. Bobbi realizes after all this time the reward is not in the degree nor in the pay, it is in the love she receives from her patients, the gratitude she sees in their eyes. She is family to them, as they are to her, and she adds them to the family she has grown through the years.
Bobbi Clincher raised three children of her own, seven stepchildren, four adopted children and she is balancing all of it with raising two of her grandchildren. One daughter recently had surgery; another is about to have a baby. Two sons are quadriplegic, with one on a ventilator, and she cares for another with special needs.
Her tasks are daunting: already most of us could not keep up with her average day. Yet Bobbi forges on.
In just over a year, Bobbi lost her sister, her brother, her husband and her daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Six days after her husband died, Barry´s appeal for parole ended in a denial, then Bobbi´s body said enough. She had a heart attack.
Recovered but mindful of her own health, she continues to care for her family, her patients, the ones she loves. And she never gives up on Barry.
"Barry´s my hero," she said, her voice quietly demure yet resolved. "I knew he was innocent from the start and I made a vow to try and help him. I can not imagine all he has been through without having bitterness. He has done everything to be the strength for others around him."
Bobbi spoke of Barry´s ordeal--a broken nose, stab wounds, showdowns with other inmates--all unthinkable for a mother who can not protect her child. She tells of Barry´s travels, being incarcerated in and relocated to seven different facilities in the past twenty-five years. She describes his stories of frost being so thick on the inside of the cell walls that the blocks work like an old fashioned ice box. She proudly speaks of Barry leading others by his good example in prison, how inmates and guards alike respect him. And she prays for him every day.
Once a month she takes the three to four hour drive to see Barry, receiving a warm welcome of the minimum hug allowed by the guards. "We even tease Barry," she chuckled. "We ask him when he does get out and goes to Target, will he go through the automatic doors or will he stand there all day waiting for someone to open them." Her light chuckle ends with a sigh, and silence.
For so long his mother was the only one to stand fast and fight for his freedom. Newcomers to this story will wonder "why now?"--why is Barry Beach still in prison if in fact he is innocent? Why all of a sudden is his family saying he is not the murderer? Jaded ones will shake their heads and turn the page to the next news.
Barry´s journey has been nothing but a tragic comedy of errors. While the attorney general says "something should have already happened" if he were truly innocent, just look at his legal history. According the Bobbi Clincher, Barry spent nine months in jail without being arraigned. His first attorney, Paul Kidd, was not present during Barry´s questioning and subsequent "confession". The second attorney, Frances McCardle, constantly conferred with the county attorney and the judge, allowing Barry´s defense position to be changed from juvenile to adult without a hearing.
The third attorney, Timer Moses "just didn´t fight for Barry," says his mother. A look at the case reveals there was probable prosecutorial misconduct by then prosecutor Marc Racicot, and Timer Moses did not challenge him. Next, a law clerk, Dick Carstenson, took interest in the case, but because of family issues he could not focus and "got into trouble with time limits.
Then came another lawyer, a law student and finally Wendy Holton, who at least got Barry´s case to federal court. And though the time limit had passed, the court decided his case did "have merit". Now, Centurion Ministries and the law offices of Peter Camiel are working diligently to clear Barry´s name. But the process is painfully slow.
Each day for Bobbi Clincher is filled with working tirelessly for others. Especially Barry. Like a good mother would, she will not give up on her son. To paraphrase a great woman, I can not imagine all she has been through without having bitterness. She has done everything to be the strength for others around her.
How about the rest of us getting some answers and helping her out? The power of the pen can not be denied.
Ask the questions that need to be answered, like why Vance Curtis, Chairman of the Montana Board of Pardons and Parole, indicated to Bobbi Clincher that the Board finally made a "good decision" for her--a statement that was overheard by attorney Peter Camiel and others--only to have Barry denied any chance of freedom. Or why Marc Racicot was allowed to get away with perjury during the parole board hearing, and his prosecutorial misconduct twenty-five years ago. And, by the way, how many other innocent folks are stagnating in jail, lined up like rungs on Racicot´s personal political ladder? (Dan Weinberg, you are going to be very busy.) Or why Timer Moses "can´t recall" anything about this case. Or how come everyone in Poplar, Montana knows Barry Beach did not murder Kim Nees and no one will do anything about it. And why does Barry Beach continue to be a political prisoner at the whim of the state of Montana?
How about it, Governor Schweitzer? Isn´t it time to take a good, hard look at this case and do the right thing? The election is over, so there should be no excuse.
All any mother wants is justice for her child.
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