{"id":24194,"date":"2024-10-08T17:37:53","date_gmt":"2024-10-08T22:37:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/norwoodlegal.com\/?p=24194"},"modified":"2024-12-17T13:25:43","modified_gmt":"2024-12-17T19:25:43","slug":"no-angels","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/norwoodlegal.com\/no-angels\/","title":{"rendered":"Tulsa police celebrity Sean \u2018Sticks\u2019 Larkin said our client shot a man five times. A jury disagreed."},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
By G.W. Schulz<\/span><\/p> Lt. Sean \u201cSticks\u201d Larkin of the Tulsa Police Department didn\u2019t seem aware of the conflict in his 2021 testimony during a shooting trial.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Larkin told the jury that he cared about the community in low-income north Tulsa.<\/span><\/p> Later, however, Larkin testified that the same community in north Tulsa didn\u2019t have as many \u201cangels\u201d as the rest of the city. It wasn\u2019t just the suspects and defendants who were trouble, Larkin said under oath.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The victims and witnesses in north Tulsa were \u201cnot angels,\u201d either. But there\u2019s no meaningful method for measuring angelness.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The jurors didn\u2019t buy Lt. Larkin\u2019s testimony. They acquitted Norwood.Law client Demarchoe Carpenter of shooting a man five times. Joseph M. Norwood represented Carpenter: \u201cI would have been shocked if the jury found him guilty, because there is so clearly reasonable doubt.\u201d<\/span><\/p> Larkin <\/span>had been assigned the lead investigator<\/span><\/a> in the case and wanted Carpenter convicted. The acquittal should have been embarrassing.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> It was one of Larkin\u2019s final cases before he retired from the Tulsa Police Department. Larkin has since continued a career in <\/span>police reality TV<\/span><\/a>, and <\/span>podcasting<\/span><\/a>, and <\/span>social media<\/span><\/a>, and <\/span>book publishing<\/span><\/a>.<\/span><\/p> By the time Lt. Larkin showed up in Demarchoe Carpenter\u2019s life, Demarchoe already had a <\/span>wrenching story to tell about injustice in America<\/span><\/a>.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> He\u2019d spent 22 years locked away in Oklahoma\u2019s prison system for a 1994 drive-by killing he didn\u2019t commit. A Tulsa judge later said that he and a co-defendant, Malcolm Scott, were not just denied a fair trial, they were innocent.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Carpenter and Scott had grown up together in north Tulsa. They were released from prison in 2016.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> With those facts in mind, Lt. Sean Larkin <\/span>testified in Carpenter\u2019s new shooting case<\/span><\/a>. He told the jury that he had served for the police department in north Tulsa out of choice. But as his testimony makes clear, he also had difficulty distinguishing between non-criminals and criminals:<\/span><\/p> \u201cThe majority of my victims, my suspects, my witnesses \u2013 they\u2019re not angels. And a lot of those people do not cooperate with the police regardless if they\u2019re a victim, (or) if they\u2019re a witness. Oftentimes \u2013 more often than not \u2013 our suspects don\u2019t.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p> Larkin then doubled down on north Tulsa:\u00a0<\/span><\/p> \u201cIf there\u2019s a play in hell, there are no angels.\u201d<\/span><\/p> Lt. Larkin might have viewed our client as no angel. But that didn\u2019t make Demarchoe Carpenter guilty of shooting someone five times.<\/span><\/p> So who is Tulsa Police Lt. Sean Larkin, and why did an Oklahoma jury rule against a handsome TV cop in a law-and-order state?<\/span><\/p> Keep reading below to learn the rest of this extraordinary story.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> In the meantime, do you need an advocate who cares?\u00a0<\/span><\/p> It\u2019s not just criminal defense we practice. If you find yourself trapped in a personal injury, business, or family conflict, Norwood.Law has the experience you need practicing in federal, state, and municipal courts.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Attorney Joe Norwood has successfully represented clients in jury trials, settlements, pleas, and more. Visit Norwood.Law or call 918-582-6464 for a consultation.<\/span><\/p> Lt. Sean Larkin retired from the Tulsa Police Department in 2021 after 25 years on the force and after his defeat to Norwood.Law in the Demarchoe Carpenter case.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> He\u2019s tall with California good looks. After a career policing in Tulsa, Larkin learned that TV cameras and social media liked him as a law enforcer who keeps us safe from the \u201cbad guys.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p> First he was filmed by a TV crew as he performed his job in Tulsa for the police reality show \u201cLive PD.\u201d It reportedly became the most-watched show on the A&E cable network at one time.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Larkin eventually became a co-host of the show. He provided expert analysis as an experienced law enforcer. Along the way, he became a social media celebrity.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The show\u2019s format involved \u201cLive PD\u201d film crews capturing video of police in select cities around the country enforcing the law in near-real time as the show broadcast to viewers.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> But \u201cLive PD\u201d was canceled after four seasons as criticism of police heated up during the nationwide Black Lives Matter protests.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> \u201cLive PD\u201d aired almost 300 episodes over four seasons. Many of those episodes were filmed in Tulsa. Later there were spin-offs.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Meanwhile, A&E ultimately paid a price for its decision to yank \u201cLive PD.\u201d Viewership tanked in the months that followed the show\u2019s cancellation.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> With all of this as a backdrop, Larkin\u2019s public profile ballooned further when he began dating the music-making megastar Lana Del Rey in 2019. Larkin attended the Grammys with her and was asked by the media if he was nervous to be at the event.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Larkin humble-bragged:<\/span><\/p> \u201c[Police] drive cars 120 miles per hour. I don\u2019t want to sound like a tough guy, but I mean, when you\u2019re behind a known shooting suspect and he jumps out the car running, you\u2019ve got to get out chasing. \u2026 Taking pictures and answering questions, I\u2019m not trying to sound like a bravado tough guy, just like, you know. It was enjoyable, for sure.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p> For a time after 2018, Lt. Larkin says he worked six days a week. He was serving in the gang unit of the Tulsa Police Department while filming episodes of \u201cLive PD.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The show was clearly produced with a bias for entertainment. Everyday people who appear on camera often say they don\u2019t want to be filmed, according to the New York Times.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> But A&E said it was using the same newsgathering standards as a newspaper or a news station. It said the show was \u201centertainment with purpose\u201d and that it promoted the \u201ctransparency of policing in America.\u201d<\/span><\/p> For much of Larkin\u2019s career with the Tulsa Police Department, he worked in so-called specialty units. In response to a question during the Carpenter trial about his career, Larkin couldn\u2019t resist boasting that he was more than just a department functionary:<\/span><\/p> Q: You\u2019re still one of the guys?<\/span><\/p> A: Yes, sir, always will be.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Q: And when you say, \u201cone of the guys,\u201d do you have a certain notoriety in certain areas of town? People know you?<\/span><\/p> A: Yes.<\/span><\/p> At times during his testimony, Larkin impressively responds to questions with careful, considerate answers. But in his book, <\/span>Larkin can\u2019t avoid indulging bravado<\/span><\/a>.<\/span><\/p> The Bloods and Crips street gangs were a national sensation in the media during the 1990s. Larkin paints a gory and alarming picture of depravity and violence during that time. But he cites no data or research to support the explosive claim made below:\u00a0<\/span><\/p> \u201cCorpses would litter the streets of [Los Angeles] when the Bloods would go on a spree. And they were territorial as sharks. A gang of Bloods could swallow up whole neighborhoods, holding the streets like feudal warlords.\u201d<\/span><\/i>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The \u201cSticks\u201d nickname was given to Larkin on an infamous occasion when he brazenly broke department rules. Larkin writes in his book that he was on a ride-along as an intern before he became a sworn officer. One day they \u201cgot in a car chase with some gangsters.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p> \u201cI don\u2019t know what got into me. We were all hyped up \u2013 our energy flowing,\u201d Larkin wrote.<\/span><\/p> Larkin tackled a fleeing suspect to the ground. When the officers responsible for him caught up, they were furious. One called him \u201cFuck Sticks.\u201d<\/span><\/p> That became \u201cSticks.\u201d<\/span><\/p> Larkin today acts shy about the name and calls it just something people said to him on the streets.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> But it\u2019s clear he loves being known that way. It\u2019s used for promoting the reality shows, his book, his podcast, and his social media profiles.<\/span><\/p> Lt. Larkin was assigned the Sheldon Reed shooting case on Aug. 8, 2019. But the investigation was troubled from the start.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> While interviewing Reed, Larkin made a startling statement, according to a recording.<\/span><\/p> He suggested that Norwood.Law client Demarchoe Carpenter had tricked the system three years before. That\u2019s when a Tulsa judge found that Carpenter had been wrongfully convicted of a 1994 murder.<\/span><\/p> \u201cBut we\u2019re gonna put him away on this one, okay?\u201d Larkin said to Reed on the tape.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The vow made it seem like the Tulsa police and Lt. Larkin were pursuing their own brand of justice where the courts had already exonerated Demarchoe Carpenter.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> When Reed had called 911, he couldn\u2019t say who shot him. Says Joseph M. Norwood, Demarchoe Carpenter\u2019s attorney:<\/span><\/p> \u201c[Reed] said two or three times that he didn\u2019t know who did it. Then two days after saying that he didn\u2019t know who did it, he meets with (Lt. Sean) Larkin and then remembers who did it.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Authorities went on to issue a warrant for Carpenter\u2019s arrest.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The nightmare was happening all over again for Demarchoe.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Larkin said he was only trying to reassure a crime victim that police were doing their best to investigate the case.<\/span><\/p> But at that moment of his promise to Sheldon Reed, Lt. Larkin had not interviewed any other witnesses. Larkin later admitted that he had pursued our client Demarchoe Carpenter based on Sheldon Reed\u2019s claims alone. Said Joseph M. Norwood:<\/span><\/p> \u201cLarkin testified and said Reed told him that Demarchoe did it. But a doctor is saying that Reed was showing signs of being delusional at the time. Those are facts that are not good for the state\u2019s case. \u2026 This is someone who had PCP in his system at the time, was shot five times. Massive trauma.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p> There was no forensic evidence at all that tied Demarchoe Carpenter to the Reed shooting.<\/span><\/p> This is tragically <\/span>common among wrongful convictions<\/span><\/a>. In five such Norwood.Law cases, police and prosecutors had no physical evidence. They relied instead on a small number of witnesses.<\/span><\/p> In two cases, there was just one witness.<\/span><\/p> A witness in one of those cases admitted under oath to having only seen the perpetrators of a deadly robbery for two to three seconds. She was also shot in the head and survived.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The man who was sent to prison for that crime is our client, Glynn Simmons. In 2023, Simmons became <\/span>the longest-serving wrongfully convicted man in America<\/span><\/a> when a judge declared him innocent of a 1974 murder. By the time of his release with help from Norwood.Law, Simmons had spent 48 years in prison.<\/span><\/p> At the time of his trial in 1975, scientists had yet to made crucial discoveries that challenged what we thought we knew about <\/span>human memory and the reliability of eyewitness testimony<\/span><\/a>.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p> In addition to faulty eyewitnesses, wrongful convictions are also fueled in part by what psychologists and other scientists call \u201cconfirmation bias.\u201d That\u2019s the innate tendency among human beings, from birth, to <\/span>gravitate toward information that favors<\/span><\/a> an existing hypothesis or opinion.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> When people experience confirmation bias, which we all do, it conveniently pushes away discomforting information that conflicts with our existing opinions or assumptions.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> There\u2019s also so-called \u201ctunnel vision\u201d in which investigators at the outset of an investigation narrow their attention too much to a specific suspect while rejecting alternatives. This can lead to an unconscious filtering of information as the investigation proceeds.<\/span><\/p> One pair of researchers looked at why confirmation bias and \u201cthinking errors\u201d were detectable in 50 wrongful-conviction cases and investigative failures. They wanted to know what went wrong and why:<\/span><\/p> \u201cMedia frenzy, ambition, ego, and office pressures for convictions can combine with cognitive bias and create the potential for a wrongful conviction. The idea of a \u2018conviction psychology\u2019 in a prosecutor\u2019s office is the pervasive sense that all defendants are guilty, where racking up convictions is akin to \u2018wins\u2019 for a sports team. Only winning prosecutors will be successful in most prosecutors\u2019 offices.\u201d<\/span><\/i><\/p> \u00a0<\/p> Demarchoe Carpenter isn\u2019t our only wrongful-conviction case at Norwood.Law.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> We have a total of five clients who were convicted and sent to prison with no physical evidence and a heavy reliance on shaky eyewitness identifications. These men were <\/span>Demarchoe Carpenter<\/span><\/a>, <\/span>Malcolm Scott<\/span><\/a>, <\/span>Glynn Simmons<\/span><\/a>, <\/span>Perry Lott<\/span><\/a>, and <\/span>Corey Atchison<\/span><\/a>.<\/span><\/p> Norwood.Law client Corey Atchison only wanted to be a Good Samaritan when he and three friends in 1990 were driving through an area east of downtown Tulsa and turned a corner. The headlights of their car revealed a male shooting victim in the street. Atchison yelled for someone to call 911. Then he and his friends hung around the scene for two hours.<\/span><\/p> Despite this, police quickly narrowed their attention to Atchison for reasons that were never clear. He ultimately spent 28 years in prison before we intervened to help free him in 2019.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> On the witness stand, two people recanted their statements to police after initially naming Atchison as the shooter. A third witness recanted his testimony 26 years later, which caused the case to collapse entirely.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> All three recanting witnesses were teenagers at the time of the shooting. When a judge in Tulsa eventually declared Atchison innocent, she said that the witnesses in his case had been coerced by police.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The story somehow gets more bizarre. Astonishingly, Corey Atchison wasn\u2019t the only member of his family to be wrongfully convicted and sent to prison for years.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Atchison is the brother of Malcolm Scott, who was the co-defendant along with Demarchoe Carpenter in the 1994 driveby shooting described above. Another man eventually confessed in 2014 to carrying out the driveby.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Once again, there were allegations of witness coercion by police.<\/span><\/p> Then in 1988, Norwood.Law client Perry Lott was convicted of rape. After 30 years in prison, DNA testing excluded Lott from the rape kit in his case. He had been sent to prison by the office of former Pontotoc County District Attorney Bill Peterson in Ada.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Lott became the sixth-known person Peterson\u2019s office sent to prison who was eventually exonerated.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> In the Glynn Simmons case, more than a dozen people by 2023 had signed sworn affidavits or testified that Simmons was in his hometown of Harvey, Louisiana, when a 1974 robbery and murder occurred at an Edmond liquor store.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> He was sent to prison on the testimony of a woman who\u2019d only briefly glanced at the suspects. Police reports from the case raise questions about who the witness actually identified during lineups. But these documents were kept from Simmons for years.\u00a0<\/span><\/p> In a 2020 New York Times profile, Lt. Sean Larkin criticized the media for inaccurate portrayals of police.<\/span><\/p> \u201cA movie like \u2018Training Day\u2019 came out, great movie, loved it. But it painted police in a bad light. \u2018The Shield,\u2019 which was a TV show that used to be on FX, great show. But the cops are these rogue guys who run around stealing drugs, and committing murders, and things like that.\u2019\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/i><\/p> He continued: \u201cIt makes great TV. But for people who have had bad experiences with police or in life or just whatever reason, they see these things and they think that\u2019s how the cops really are.\u2019\u201d<\/span><\/p> Again there\u2019s a conflict. Some justice reformers and activists say that police reality shows like \u201cLive PD\u201d result in problematic portrayals of North Tulsa residents. The subjects of the show become \u201cnot angels\u201d before a mainstream audience.<\/span><\/p> According to the New York Times, several police departments around the country ended their cooperation with the show \u201cover concerns about bad publicity.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p> For a time after 2018, Lt. Larkin says he was working six days a week. He served in the gang unit of the Tulsa Police Department while filming episodes of \u201cLive PD.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p> The show was clearly produced with a bias for entertainment. Everyday people who appear on camera often say they don\u2019t want to be filmed, according to the Times.<\/span><\/p> But A&E said they were using the same newsgathering-standards as a newspaper or a news station. The network added that the show promoted the \u201ctransparency of policing in America\u201d\u00a0 and called it \u201centertainment with purpose.\u201d<\/span><\/p> Lt. Larkin grew up in San Francisco and attended a predominantly black school there. He later moved to Tulsa for college.<\/span><\/p> His career ran parallel with America\u2019s ongoing, decades-long War on Drugs. He often worked drug cases in Tulsa as part of the job.<\/span><\/p>A media star rises<\/b><\/h2>
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Origin of a name<\/b><\/h2>
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Brand of justice<\/b><\/h2>
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48 years in prison\u00a0<\/b><\/h2>
There are others<\/b><\/h2>
\u2018The Shield\u2019<\/b><\/h2>
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Drug warrior\u00a0<\/b><\/h2>