Special report: In Tennessee, 185 people are serving life for crimes committed as teens

• Cyntoia Brown’s case brought national attention to Tennessee’s sentencing laws for juveniles convicted of murder.
• Tennessee has the longest mandatory minimum sentence in the nation for adults and juveniles sentenced to life in prison — 51 years.
• “As horrific as it sounds that a child committed murder, the person they are now is not the person they will be in 20 years," Sen. Raumesh Akbari said.

After a day of drinking alcohol, smoking pot and driving around Nashville with his dad and uncle, 16-year-old Kevin Buford got out of the car to rob a stranger in the parking lot of a car wash.

But the stranger — a 33-year-old Jiffy Lube employee taking his break — fought back.

Buford's uncle told him to shoot. He did.   

The 2008 murder of Billy Jack Shane Tuders left two young children to grow up without their father. His daughter commemorates his birthday each year by posting notes of love on a memorial website. His six brothers and sisters buy birthday cake in his honor.

He would now be 44.

Buford is now a 27-year-old man serving a life sentence at Northeast Correctional Complex in Mountain City, Tennessee. His mother, stepfather and brothers visit him regularly. His 23-year-old brother, who has several intellectual disabilities, asks for him nearly every day.

Buford, a sophomore in high school, was convicted of first-degree murder. He is one of 185 inmates serving life sentences in Tennessee prisons for murders they committed before their 18th birthdays.

Cyntoia Brown case brought juvenile sentencing to the fore

Cyntoia Brown is the most high-profile among them. Convicted in the murder of a 42-year-old Nashville real estate agent when she was 16, Brown faced a mandatory minimum of 51 years of a life sentence before the possibility of parole.

In January, outgoing Gov. Bill Haslam granted her clemency, calling her sentence "too harsh." Brown is set for release Aug. 7.

In his decision to grant Brown’s early release, Haslam acknowledged her case was not unique and said he hoped "serious consideration of additional reforms will continue, especially with respect to the sentencing of juveniles."

Brown’s case brought national attention to Tennessee’s sentencing laws for juveniles convicted of murder, which come with the longest mandatory minimum sentence in the nation at 51 years. 

Haslam’s deputy counsel Todd Skelton, who helped him review clemency requests, said the number of people serving life for crimes they committed as juveniles "caught our attention."

Echoing the mitigating factors in Brown's case, Skelton said Haslam's team was struck by “the prevalence and impact of adverse childhood experiences as well as the connection of criminal justice issues with poor education, health care and family environments.”

Sen. Raumesh Akbari, D-Memphis, said many young defendants face childhood hardships and traumas that can be overcome with time and treatment.

“There are so many others like Cyntoia,” Akbari said.

“It’s so complicated when you’re dealing with loss of life, but we are talking about children,” she said. “As horrific as it sounds that a child committed murder, the person they are now is not the person they will be in 20 years.”

Gov. Bill Lee's spokeswoman said he is “open to proposals addressing juvenile sentencing,” and a new state panel is considering future reforms. 

But there remains little consensus among Tennessee policymakers on what to do when children kill.

Akbari is trying to change Tennessee law to lower the minimum time served before a chance for parole to as low as 30 years for juveniles. The proposal could give many of the 185 a second chance at life outside prison walls for the first time in their adult lives.

Her effort is grounded in research about adolescent brain development that shows people do not fully develop rational decision-making abilities until their 20s. Other research has highlighted the impact of adverse childhood experiences on the developing brain, including sexual and physical abuse, poverty and incarcerated parents — events that can negatively wire some children’s brains.

Children can mature and overcome early impulsive or thoughtless behaviors to become more responsible and morally centered adults, the research shows.

Kevin Buford’s mother and the stepfather who raised him say he has changed in the 11 years he has served in state prison. He has earned his GED and several certificates. He mentors other inmates. 

Consequences remain, even with rehabilitation

But while children who murder may change, the consequences of their deadly actions remain.

“He took a life, and he didn’t have to,” said Gina Transue, the older sister of Buford’s victim, Billy Jack Shane Tuders, who attended every day of his trial and has helped raise her brother’s now 18-year-old daughter. “He could have walked away from his dad and uncle, and he chose not to.

"He could easily have walked into a store and called police or done something else. God says to forgive. I forgive, but I won’t ever forget.”

Tuders' death has compounded the ongoing tragedy his extended family has endured. Five years before his murder, their 13-year-old cousin Tabitha Tuders disappeared while walking to a bus stop in East Nashville.

She has not been found.

Analysis reveals trends for 185 sentenced to life as juveniles

The USA TODAY NETWORK - Tennessee reviewed public records available for each of the 185 inmates serving life sentences for crimes they committed as juveniles.

Among the findings:

• 73 percent are African-American males;
• Seven are serving life sentences for crimes committed at age 14;
• 26 were 15 years old at the time of their crimes; 53 were 16. The rest were 17.
• Ten are women.
• The oldest is Robert Walker, sentenced to life in prison for murder in 1972 at age 16. He is now 63.
• The youngest is Jalean Williams, who along with his 19-year-old brother was convicted in the murder of a teenager inside an Antioch home in 2015, when he was 15. Williams is now 19.

In many of the cases, court records document a history of abuse suffered by the convicted teens, the type of adverse experience that Akbari and others point to in their calls for reform. 

A 16-year-old girl sentenced to life in the stabbing death of her mother was repeatedly forced to watch her mother have sex with multiple men.

A 15-year-old boy whose stepfather regularly beat his mother got into a confrontation with the man while asking if he would let them peacefully leave.

The boy beat the stepfather to death with a baseball bat.

A 17-year-old boy killed his father after what he and his mother described as years of physical and emotional abuse that had been reported to the state.

The father threatened to beat the boy after a suicide attempt and withheld mental health medication, according to the mother. The boy shot his father with a rifle and stole his truck.

Legal arguments continue over sentences' constitutionality

Cyntoia Brown's case rocketed to national prominence after several celebrities, including Rihanna and Kim Kardashian West, posted about it on social media. The intense attention attracted a team of powerful lawyers who volunteered to pursue her freedom from multiple angles.

But no other case has received similar publicity, and there aren't many lawyers offering help for other juveniles serving life in Tennessee prisons. 

“As far as I can tell there’s just not much of an appetite," said Nashville attorney Daniel Horwitz, who represents a defendant in the notorious Lillelid murders.

Six individuals ranging in age from 14 to 20 were convicted of murdering a young couple and their young daughter at an East Tennessee rest stop. All six of the individuals are serving life without parole, despite a U.S. Supreme Court ruling saying life without the possibility of parole is unconstitutional in most instances for minors.

Horwitz said juvenile offenders in Tennessee "have clear constitutional rights" and "strong cases for relief."

"They’re just not getting it.”

Nashville attorney Bradley MacLean is one of a handful of lawyers fighting for people jailed for life as teens.

MacLean is representing Amos Brown out of McMinn County, who was convicted of fatally shooting his uncle and aunt in 1995, when he was 16. Amos Brown will be 69 before he is eligible for release.

MacLean teamed with the Nashville arm of Bass, Berry & Sims to represent Charles Lowe-Kelley in federal court. Lowe-Kelley was 16 in 2008 when he and three adult accomplices shot into a crowded van leaving a quinceanera party, which in Latino culture marks a girl’s 15th birthday.

Angie Bergman also represents Lowe-Kelley, who has been in prison now for 11 years. She says he has grown and matured in many of the same ways Cyntoia Brown did. Seeing her get redemption lit Lowe-Kelley's face up, Bergman said.

“I am grateful for the story of Cyntoia Brown. I am grateful that we are having these conversations more broadly," Bergman said.

“The fact that we grow and change and mature is a story of almost anyone," Bergman said. “We should extend the same understanding to all juveniles that are interacting with the criminal justice system."

Lowe-Kelley's case is pending in federal court.

The teams representing Lowe-Kelley and Amos Brown filed documents arguing the defendants’ life sentences violate the Supreme Court’s 2012 decision in Miller v. Alabama, which held that juvenile offenders must get “a meaningful opportunity to obtain release based on demonstrated maturity and rehabilitation.”

Tennessee’s life sentences, which require offenders to serve at least 51 years before they’re eligible for parole, don’t do that, MacLean said.

"It's exactly a Cyntoia Brown situation," MacLean said, comparing his argument with the position Cyntoia Brown’s attorneys held before she got clemency.

In 2018, lawyers for Cyntoia Brown challenged her sentence in federal court, saying her 51-year sentence violated the spirit of U.S. Supreme Court rulings limiting life sentences for juveniles.

That challenge was something of a test balloon for other juvenile offenders in state prisons, many of whom had not been able to recruit legal teams. When Brown got clemency, her appeal was mooted, leaving the constitutionality of Tennessee's 51-year life sentences an open legal question for juvenile offenders.

MacLean argues that 51 years amounts to a de facto life without parole sentence for almost every juvenile offender. MacLean has submitted actuarial tables to the court  showing life expectancies for people in prison. The data suggest both of his clients will be dead before their release date.

Even if juvenile offenders survive to see freedom in their 60s, MacLean said, they will almost certainly be hobbled by old age and health problems, not to mention a criminal record that would make getting housing and jobs a struggle.

"The whole premise of Miller is that juvenile brains have not developed into adulthood,” he said.

"Sentencing a juvenile to prison for 51 years does not give that juvenile an opportunity to demonstrate meaningful rehabilitation,” MacLean said. “This is the most cruel type of punishment that we can impose, except for possibly the death penalty.”

Tennessee lags behind other states in addressing juvenile sentencing

As a result of the Supreme Court ruling in the Miller case, at least 24 other states have reformed their sentencing guidelines for juvenile offenders by eliminating life without parole or reducing the length of time that must be served before a parole hearing.

Hundreds of juvenile offenders sentenced to life have been resentenced to lesser terms or released. 

But in Tennessee, such efforts have failed.

Legislation similar to the bill Akbari is proposing this year to reduce mandatory minimum sentences for juveniles failed two years ago after some East Tennessee lawmakers cited the Lillelid murders.

High-profile crimes could continue to complicate reform efforts.

Five minors between the ages of 12 and 16 are among the latest to face life behind bars. They've been charged in the February shooting death of 27-year-old Nashville musician Kyle Yorlets.

Prosecutors want to transfer all five of the youths to adult court; a transfer hearing on the matter is months away.

If they are convicted of first-degree murder, the only sentencing option available to judges and juries in non-death penalty cases are life in prison with no possibility of parole or life in prison with the possibility of parole after 51 years.

Buford case shows complications that can lead a teen to murder

A 2011 Court of Appeals opinion lays out the facts of Buford’s crime.

On Jan. 21, 2008 — Martin Luther King Jr. Day and a school holiday — Buford was driving with his father, Kevin Buford Sr., his uncle, his brother and a friend.

Buford's mother had kept him away from his father since he was 4 years old. His father has a lengthy criminal history — including aggravated assault, robbery, resisting arrest, weapons charges and contributing to the delinquency of a minor.

His mother, Trixie Williams, had since remarried, and her husband raised Buford and his three brothers as his own. She calls Buford's biological father an “abusive person.”

But just before Buford turned 16, he searched for his father, and he and his older brother began spending time with him.

And on the day of the murder, their father invited Buford and his brother to play video games at his home, then took them for a drive and gave them alcohol.

It was Buford's first time drinking. His father also offered them marijuana.

And then he told them he intended to rob a man named “Edwards.” Robert Buford, the uncle, robbed the man, according to court filings.

After the first robbery, Kevin Buford Jr.'s father told the boys it was their turn: “Y’all got 15 minutes to do a robbery, because I gotta go pick up my wife from work.”

They pulled into the car wash where Tuders was walking by, counting cash.

Kevin Buford Jr.'s uncle handed him a gun. Then he and his uncle got out of the car to confront Tuders. Instead of handing over the money, Tuders punched the boy.

“Shoot’im," the boy's uncle said. "Shoot’im.”

Kevin Buford Jr. fired the fatal shots.

When police showed up at Trixie Williams' door at 2 the next morning, she had no idea why they were there. They took her sons away in handcuffs while she sobbed.

Kevin Buford Jr., then a sophomore at Whites Creek High School, hasn’t been home since.

A jury convicted him of felony murder and attempted especially aggravated robbery. The judge had only two sentencing options available for the murder conviction: life with the possibility of parole or life without the possibility of parole.

The judge sentenced Buford to life with the possibility for parole. His father, uncle and brother were each sentenced to 20 years in prison for their roles in the crime.

Buford's attorney Kyle Parks is appealing the sentence. If the appeal fails, the earliest Buford will be eligible for release is 2059, when he turns 67 years old. 

Meanwhile, Trixie Williams believes her son deserves a second chance.

"He's very remorseful. So am I. A life was taken. We can't take that back," she said.  "That family — they are suffering.

"But Kevin was a child. He should suffer consequences for his actions, but he was a child under the influence of two adults. He could offer so much to this world. He shouldn't be just thrown away."

Support local journalism: Help us to do more of this kind of important work. Subscribe today.