Charles Wakefield Jr. sat in a small room. The fight for me is the fight to do the things that I need to do to become a better person.

To try to get the skills I need to fight my own conviction.

25 years earlier, Judge Frank Epps sent him to death row.

Wakefield had managed to escape death, but not prison.

That's where he sat with a camera rolling right next to him as he reflected on his childhood.

My aunt, Aunt Nives, she had four children, you know, I had a reputation.

I'm missing with people's stuff, taking little petty stuff, stuff like that.

In front of him, Sat his attorney, Eric Gottlieb, a young documentary filmmaker whose focus

had changed from making a movie to making Charles Wakefield a free man.

Gottlieb shot this video of Wakefield talking about a woman named Inez, one of Wakefield's beloved ants, and an unusually bad day at her

house.

And one of her kids took some money, and she blamed me, but I knew I didn't do it.

As an adult who spent the majority of his life in prison for a crime he says he didn't commit,

Wakefield became acutely familiar with the pain of misdirected accusations.

But back then as a child, it was an alien feeling in his gut that manifested as indignation and anger.

And it made me mad.

I was angry with her for a long time.

You know, she accused me or taking something from her that I didn't take.

There's a song called Grindstone by the band Uncle Tupelo.

It came out while Wakefield was in prison.

There's a line in that song.

It says,

...