It was 1989. New York City felt like it was coming apart at the seams. Crack was everywhere, the murder rate was soaring, and people were genuinely terrified to walk the streets at night. Then came the night of April 20. A 28-year-old investment banker named Trisha Meili went for a jog in Central Park and was found hours later, nearly dead, her skull smashed, having lost 75% of her blood.
The city wanted blood in return.
The central park five case wasn’t just a trial; it was a fever dream of racial tension and media-driven panic. You’ve probably seen the Netflix series or heard the name "The Exonerated Five," but honestly, the sheer scale of the system's failure still feels impossible when you look at the raw facts. Five kids—Antron McCray, Kevin Richardson, Yusef Salaam, Raymond Santana, and Korey Wise—were basically thrown into a meat grinder because the city needed a narrative. They were between 14 and 16 years old.
The "Wilding" Myth and the Interrogation Room
The term "wilding" became the buzzword of the decade. The police claimed these kids were part of a massive group of 30 or more teenagers roaming the park to cause "urban mayhem." It sounded like a horror movie.
But here’s the thing: the confessions were the only real evidence.
Imagine being 14. You’ve been in a police station for 20 hours. You haven't slept, you haven't eaten, and your parents aren't in the room. The detectives tell you that if you just say what they want to hear, you can go home. They tell you your friends already ratted you out. So, you lie. You tell them what they want so the screaming stops.
Why the Confessions Were Total Garbage
When you actually look at the videotaped statements, they are a mess.
- Antron McCray said the victim wore a blue shirt; she was wearing black.
- Korey Wise said she was cut with a knife; there were no knife wounds.
- Kevin Richardson didn't even know she had bled.
The details didn't match the crime scene because the kids weren't there. But the prosecution, led by Elizabeth Lederer and overseen by Linda Fairstein, pushed forward anyway. They had a story, and they weren't going to let "inconsistencies" get in the way of a conviction. Even back then, DNA evidence showed that none of these five boys matched the semen found at the scene. They ignored it. They called it "unexplained" and moved on.
The Man Who Actually Did It
For years, these men sat in prison. Korey Wise had it the worst. Since he was 16, he was sent to adult prison. He spent over a decade in some of the most violent facilities in New York, including Rikers Island and Attica.
Then, a literal miracle happened in 2002.
Korey Wise was in prison when he ran into a man named Matias Reyes. Reyes was a serial rapist and murderer already serving a life sentence. In a moment of conscience—or perhaps just because he had nothing left to lose—Reyes confessed. He told the truth: he was the one who attacked Trisha Meili. He acted alone.
DNA confirmed it. It was a perfect match.
The convictions were finally vacated in December 2002. The city was stunned, but the legal battle was far from over. It took another 12 years of fighting before New York City, under Mayor Bill de Blasio, finally settled the civil lawsuit for $41 million in 2014.
Where Are the Exonerated Five Now?
These men didn't just disappear into the sunset with their settlement money. They’ve become the faces of a movement.
Yusef Salaam is perhaps the most visible today. In a wild turn of events, he was elected to the New York City Council in 2023, representing Harlem—the very neighborhood where he was arrested as a teenager. Talk about a full-circle moment.
Raymond Santana moved to Georgia and started a clothing line called Park Madison NYC. He’s also been heavily involved in film and TV production, ensuring their story is told accurately. Recently, in late 2025, he released a graphic novel called Pushing Hope that dives into his journey of reclaiming his youth.
Kevin Richardson stays active in advocacy. He founded the Kevin Richardson Foundation, which focuses on mentoring youth and teaching them how to navigate the justice system. He calls his workshops "CPR"—Courage, Protection, and Resilience.
Antron McCray has stayed more private. He’s been vocal about the trauma that never really goes away. He once told Oprah that he’s still "damaged" and that the lie he told under pressure cost him 7.5 years of his life.
Korey Wise still lives in New York. He’s a major benefactor for the Korey Wise Innocence Project in Colorado. He’s often seen as the spiritual anchor of the group, having endured the most brutal stint in the adult prison system.
Why We’re Still Talking About This in 2026
The central park five case isn’t just a history lesson. It’s why we have new laws now. Because of what happened to these kids, New York passed a law requiring the police to video-record all custodial interrogations for serious crimes. We’ve learned that "confessions" aren't always truths.
Just last month, in December 2025, the city dedicated the "Gate of the Exonerated" at the 110th Street entrance of Central Park. It’s a permanent reminder that the system can, and does, fail.
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Lessons for Today
If you want to support reform or just stay informed, here’s what actually matters:
- Know your rights: Never talk to the police without a lawyer, especially if you're a minor.
- Support the Innocence Project: They are the ones doing the heavy lifting to free people who are currently where the Central Park Five were 30 years ago.
- Look past the headlines: Media frenzy in 1989 fueled the "wilding" narrative. Always look for the physical evidence over the sensational story.
The tragedy of this case is that it could have been avoided if anyone had just looked at the DNA or listened to the kids when they recanted. It took 13 years to get them out and 25 years to get them paid. Justice is rarely fast, and in this case, it was nearly too late.
Next Steps to Stay Informed
You can visit the Innocence Project website to see active cases of wrongful conviction or read Yusef Salaam’s memoir, Better, Not Bitter, for a first-hand account of his journey from a jail cell to the City Council.