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A prisoner of the systems Arrested and critically ill, Chad Wyatt kept fighting By SARAH HANSON Yreka is a small, rural town. It has three stoplights, and instead of rush hours, there are traffic minutes. People in the gold rush town know each other well. Going to the grocery store means running into friends, relatives and neighbors. Chad Wyatt was 33 when he moved to Yreka from New York City in October 1999, hoping to find riches of his own. He wanted to be near his mother, who was ill. He thought living in Yreka would allow him to accomplish his two dreams in life: to get an education and a pilot's license. Little did he know that quiet, little towns have dangers of their own. He enrolled as a student at College of the Siskiyous in Yreka. He took general education classes and started taking flight classes. Wyatt wanted to start school because he knew that if he waited, he might not get the chance. Chad Wyatt was infected with the HIV virus when he was 15. By the time he was 18, three men he had slept with had already died because of AIDS. Part of Wyatt's social scene was at the Abdill-Ellis Center, a small gay and lesbian community center in Ashland. He regularly attended dances and events at the center. It was at a dance in August 2000 that Wyatt met a young man who caught his interest. The man told Wyatt he was 21 and HIV positive. Wyatt could see the young man was depressed, and he wanted to help. Wyatt understood what the young man was going through. Wyatt wanted to show him that even though he was HIV positive, he could still have a happy life. This is his story of what happened next. In September 2000, he brought the young man to Yreka two weekends in a row. Wyatt took him bowling, gave him a tour of Yreka and Montague, and took him to dinner. Wyatt said he was trying to be a friend. But the second weekend the young man was in Yreka, something happened. After dinner at Wyatt's house, the young man asked Wyatt to have sex with him. Wyatt had heard that the young man might have a crush on him, but he didn't return the feelings. He said no. According to Wyatt, the young man continued to ask him to have sex with him for over an hour. Wyatt still said no. Wyatt feared that by saying no, he had jilted him. He was right. Robert Rahl, a friend of Wyatt's, had tried to help the young man too, when he began hanging around in Rahl's chocolate store in Ashland. Rahl was worried about Wyatt. Rahl knew the young man was promiscuous and that he liked older men. He also knew the young man was not 21. In fact, he was only 16. Rahl told Wyatt that one night at a club in late September. When Rahl warned Wyatt to avoid the boy, Wyatt only replied: The damage had already been done. About a week after the boy was at Wyatt's house, the boy was placed in a mental institution in Portland because he was depressed and suicidal. Rahl figured the boy would be lonely in the hospital, so he encouraged all the people who knew him to send get well cards. One of the people who did was Wyatt. When the card arrived, a hospital staff member read it. He asked the boy if he had ever had sex with Wyatt. The boy said yes. He told the staff that Wyatt had forced him to have sex many times when they were in Yreka. The hospital staff called the boy's mother and told her what her son had said about Wyatt. She in turn called the Yreka Police Department, and they began to investigate the case. The boy's mother declined to be interviewed for this story. Wyatt didn't know any of this was happening. Not until Oct. 18, 2000. That day, two police officers came to his house and asked him to come down to the station and answer questions about the boy. Wyatt knew the boy had been depressed; he worried the boy might have tried to kill himself. He agreed to talk to them. When he arrived at the police station, he was led into a questioning room where a detective turned on a tape recorder and a video camera, and then read Wyatt his Miranda rights. Wyatt was then told he was being arrested on 16 counts of sexual misconduct with a minor. He was told of the boy's accusations and that he was going to be prosecuted as a sex offender. After Wyatt was arrested, he learned something else the boy had told him wasn't true. The boy was not HIV positive. That was the reason the boy had earned Wyatt's trust and compassion, and it was a lie. Wyatt couldn't believe the charges had been filed against him. He was amazed that officials had believed the boy's story. He sat in his jail cell and watched fall turn into winter. At one point, Wyatt's HIV medications were stopped, a move he felt was meant to make him suffer. He called the American Civil Liberties Union for help and they were given back to him, but he wasn't allowed any pain medication. Wyatt had no idea what was going to happen at his hearing and was not prepared for the outcome. On Dec. 12, the court heard testimony from Detective Rick Berwick, the investigator who had interviewed the boy. According to Berwick's testimony, the boy said Wyatt had brought him to Yreka for the sole purpose of having sex. The boy said Wyatt bought him alcohol, and when he tried to resist, Wyatt had forced him to have sex. After the detective's testimony, Wyatt's attorney asked that his client be released on bail. He had no criminal history, and he had serious health concerns. The attorney argued that releasing him on bail was appropriate. Assistant District Attorney Tim Pappas, who handled the case, objected to the request. He said "This defendant knew the victim was 16, solicited him back to Yreka and engaged in these acts knowing he had AIDS. This defendant poses an extraordinary risk to the community." Based on Berwick's testimony, Wyatt's bail was set at $250,000. He couldn't post bail, so he continued to wait in the jail for a resolution to the case. Wyatt was told he faced up to 38 years in state prison if he was found guilty. He had to face the possibility that if convicted, he would die behind prison bars. Through all the stress, Wyatt's health had been getting worse. He started hemorrhaging. When he told the guard he was bleeding, the guard didn't believe him. The guard made Wyatt urinate in front of him before he would transport Wyatt to the hospital. At Fairchild Medical Center, the doctors didn't know what was wrong with Wyatt. They told the guards to take him back to the jail. Wyatt felt he needed more aggressive medical care than he could find in a small town like Yreka. He asked if he could be released so he could see doctors at a larger hospital in San Francisco or Portland. He would go anywhere but a rural hospital. He was told he would only be allowed to go to Fairchild, so he remained in jail. The days continued to pass, and the mental anguish began to take its toll on Wyatt's frame of mind. He got so depressed he didn't want to live anymore. He began to plan his death. Wyatt had the tools to commit suicide. Prisoners are given new razors to shave. When they're given a new razor, the guard is supposed to take the old razor. But the guard forgot. Wyatt planned to cut his veins at his wrist. He would kill himself in February, on his 34th birthday. He would make it his death day. But something changed his mind. His mother's health had been declining while he was in jail. He knew if he killed himself, he would probably kill her, too. He also thought that if he killed himself, it would make a statement about him. He'd look guilty of the crimes he was accused. He decided to keep fighting. His first step was to fire his private attorney and go with a public defender instead. In January, Ted Loos was assigned to Wyatt's case and began looking for ways to prove Wyatt's story. He hired an investigator to check the boy's credibility. The boy had been released from the hospital in Portland, and was back with his family in Ashland. He had been returning to the Abdill-Ellis Center and was socializing with people there again. The investigator learned that Wyatt was not the only man the boy had accused of sexual misconduct. In February, the boy accused another man of having sex with him. The man denied it. It was the same story Wyatt had told, only Wyatt was in jail. The investigator found the boy had repeatedly told others he was much older than he was, that he was a Southern Oregon University student and that he was HIV positive. Loos decided the boy was not a credible witness, and if the case went to trial, he believed he could win. But Loos knew that Siskiyou County was conservative, and he wasn't sure whether Wyatt could get a fair trial Tim Pappas was preparing to take the case to trial as well. Although he feared that potential jurors could be prejudiced because Wyatt had AIDS, he was confident he could fairly try the case in Siskiyou County. Loos wasn't so sure. He knew if Wyatt was convicted, he would probably never be a free man again. He knew that because of Wyatt's illness, he would probably die in prison. Loos felt he had a chance to win the case, but he was afraid the risk was too great. Loos started negotiating with the district attorney to settle the case short of going to trial. The DA's first offer was to plead guilty to all the charges. Wyatt refused. He had maintained his innocence from the very beginning. Wyatt also knew that a felony conviction would haunt him for the rest of his life. He told his attorney that if he had to plead guilty to a felony, he would commit suicide by shooting himself in the head. Loos tried again. Pappas wanted Wyatt to plead to a felony, but he realized that might not be possible. Pappas knew the victim had lied to police and had little credibility. After weeks of negotiating, they compromised. Wyatt would plead no contest to five of the charges. He would be released on time served but have a three-year probation term. He would also have to register as a sex offender. The case was settled on May 15. In the Siskiyou County Courthouse, Chad Wyatt pled no contest to five charges of sexual misconduct. "I'm maintaining my innocence by pleading no contest," he told the judge. "I'm terminally ill and I need to get on with my life." After 208 days in the Siskiyou County Jail, Wyatt was released. Walking out of the jail, he realized he had won. But it was not the victory he had hoped for. He was free, but he had been convicted. Instead of feeling victorious, Wyatt was humiliated. Although he didn't know what he was going to do with the rest of his life, Wyatt knew one thing for sure: He was leaving Yreka as quickly as possible. Less than two weeks after he was released, Wyatt packed up his things and drove away. He planned to go to Portland, San Francisco and then Las Vegas. Wyatt told friends he was excited about visiting Las Vegas because he had never been there before. After his trip, he wasn't sure what he would do. The money he saved for school had been used to pay his first attorney. He couldn't afford to finish school. His dreams had been snatched out of his grasp. But the worst loss to Wyatt wasn't money but time. Time was so precious to him, and now seven months were gone forever. On July 10, Chad Wyatt was found dead in his Las Vegas hotel room. The door was locked from the inside out. An official ruling on the cause of his death is not expected for a few weeks. His remains were taken to Portland, where he had family. A service is planned for Saturday. Mail Tribune Home | Ottaway Newspapers, Inc. | Dow Jones & Co., Inc. | Privacy | Contact Us Copyright � 2001 Mail Tribune, Inc.