She’s been sitting in an Oklahoma prison cell for twenty-six years. Most people haven’t heard the name April Wilkens unless they’ve stumbled across the Panic Button podcast or follow the messy, slow-moving gears of domestic violence reform. Honestly, it’s one of those cases that makes you want to scream at a wall. It’s not just a story about a crime; it’s a story about how the law fails when a woman decides she’s finally done being a victim.
Basically, April was a 28-year-old mom in Tulsa back in 1998. She shot and killed her ex-fiancé, Terry Carlton. On paper, it sounds like a cold-blooded murder. But when you look at the evidence—the stuff the jury never really got to chew on—the "accused" label starts to feel like a massive oversimplification of a tragedy that was years in the making.
The Night Everything Collapsed
The date was April 28, 1998. April Wilkens was at Terry Carlton’s house. Now, you’ve got to understand the power dynamic here. Terry wasn’t just some guy; he was the son of a multimillionaire Honda mogul. He had money, he had influence, and according to April’s testimony, he had a penchant for brutalizing her.
That night, things went south. Fast. April testified that Terry had kidnapped her, handcuffed her, and raped her. He supposedly threatened to "sodomize and kill" her. At one point, she managed to reach a gun. She shot him eight times.
Eight shots. That’s the number the prosecution latched onto. They argued it was "overkill." But if you’re a woman who has been stalked, strangled, and held at gunpoint for years, do you stop at one shot and wait to see if he gets back up?
What the Jury Didn't Hear
The trial was, frankly, a mess. Her defense lawyer, Chris Lyons, has been heavily criticized for how he handled the case. There were audio tapes. Real recordings where Terry Carlton literally admitted to beating and strangling April. The jury never heard them.
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Then there’s the "Battered Woman Syndrome" (BWS) defense. In the late 90s, this was still pretty new territory for Oklahoma courts. Dr. John Call, the expert hired for the defense, has since had his methods questioned by modern experts. At the time, the prosecution used photos of April on vacation—laughing and lifting her skirt—to prove she wasn't a "real" victim. It was classic slut-shaming, and it worked.
A Pattern of Indifference
April didn’t just wake up one day and decide to kill Terry. She tried to do it the "right" way first. She filed two protective orders. She called the Tulsa police at least 14 times.
You’d think that would be enough to get some help, right? Not quite. One officer reportedly told her he "just kept expecting to find her dead." Another time, after a particularly heinous rape where Terry drugged her with Valium, the police actually put him in handcuffs, only for a sergeant to come over the radio and order them to "uncuff him and just file a report."
Terry’s family had weight in Tulsa. When your dad is Don Carlton, the rules seem to apply a little differently to you. This kind of systemic indifference is exactly why the accused April Wilkens story is so haunting. It’s a roadmap of how to ignore a woman until she takes matters into her own hands.
The Evidence Left Behind
When the bomb squad searched Terry’s house after the shooting, they didn't just find a body. They found:
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- Five live grenades in the basement.
- A room in the attic dedicated to growing psychedelic mushrooms.
- Safe after safe full of high-powered rifles and shotguns.
- A .22 Beretta sitting right on a side table.
This wasn't a safe environment. It was a powder keg. Terry had a history of violence with other women, too—ex-girlfriends and an ex-wife had filed their own protective orders. But none of that mattered once the trial started.
The Long Wait for Justice
Since 1998, April has been a model prisoner at Mabel Bassett Correctional Center. She runs a dog rehab program. She leads fitness classes. She writes essays about "criminalized survivors." She’s done everything "right" behind bars, yet her path to freedom is blocked by a legal system that seems to have a long memory for her crime but a short one for her trauma.
In 2024, a glimmer of hope appeared: The Oklahoma Survivors Act. This law was designed to allow survivors of domestic abuse to seek resentencing if their crime was linked to that abuse. April was the very first person to apply.
But here’s the kicker. Even with a new law on the books, the pushback has been intense. She’s been denied parole multiple times. Terry’s father, Don, showed up as late as 2013 to protest her release. It’s been nearly 30 years, and the shadow of that night still hangs over her every move.
Why This Case Matters in 2026
The accused April Wilkens story isn't just a true crime curiosity. It’s a litmus test for how we treat women who survive. We tell women to "just leave." April tried. We tell them to "call the police." She did—repeatedly. When the system fails to protect someone, can we really be surprised when they protect themselves?
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Honestly, the legal "loopholes" used to keep her incarcerated feel less like justice and more like a grudge. Oklahoma has one of the highest female incarceration rates in the world. Many of those women are there for crimes related to their own abuse.
What Happens Next?
If you want to actually do something about cases like April’s, you have to look at the legislation. The Oklahoma Survivors Act is a start, but it needs to be applied fairly and without the bias of old-school prosecutors who still think a "perfect victim" has to be a quiet one.
- Support Legal Advocacy: Groups like the Oklahoma Appleseed Center for Law and Justice are the ones actually doing the legwork to get these cases reviewed.
- Educate on BWS: Understanding that Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) looks different in everyone is crucial. A victim laughing in a photo doesn't mean she isn't being terrified at home.
- Pressure Local Reps: If you live in a state with "Criminalized Survivor" legislation, keep an eye on how often it’s actually used. Laws are useless if judges refuse to apply them.
April Wilkens is still waiting for her day in court—a real one this time. One where the tapes are played, the police negligence is acknowledged, and the "accused" is finally seen as a survivor. Until then, her story remains an unfinished chapter in the long history of Oklahoma’s broken justice system.
The most important step right now is staying informed on the resentencing hearings scheduled throughout this year; keeping public pressure on the parole board ensures that cases like April's don't just fade into the background of a crowded docket.
Source References:
- Panic Button: The April Wilkens Case (Podcast by Oklahoma Appleseed Center)
- Bolts Magazine: "Sentencing Reforms for Domestic Abuse Survivors Derail in Oklahoma"
- The Oklahoman: Court transcripts and trial records (1998-1999)
- Center for Public Secrets: "The Case for April Wilkens' Life"