By Julia D’Amato
When Mimi Olivier messaged me online and told me her husband, Edward G. Wright, was serving life in prison for a crime he did not commit, I thought I was the victim of a phishing attack. It was hard to believe that the type of wrongful conviction case I'd only ever encountered in books or movies could happen in reality. I did not know then that this simple e-mail exchange would ignite a close friendship with Mr. Wright, or “Eddie”: a man with wildly different life circumstances from mine. And I certainly did not know that I would witness the day he would finally walk free.
My name is Julia D’Amato, and I am an undergraduate student who participated in a legal internship at NEIP in the summer of 2025. Eddie Wright was released from prison on July 31 after 41 years of wrongful incarceration. I have had the privilege of knowing Eddie for five years now, and it is a sincere honor to share in the joy of his release. Since legal decisions are impersonal by necessity, I hope that this piece sheds light on the beautiful human behind the case. As is the case with everyone who has endured a wrongful conviction, Eddie’s story deserves to be told.
Eddie with Julia (left) and Mimi (right) on the day of his release
With my sister, I helped create a prison reform club when I was a student at Cambridge Rindge & Latin High School. In 2020, I advertised the club’s prison literacy fundraiser on the neighborhood site Nextdoor. That’s when I received the message from Mimi. She suggested that members of the club might write to Eddie to learn from his experience. Since then, I have been snail-mail pen pals with Eddie. Befriending him has been the most transformative experience of my life.
Those who know Eddie characterize him as an exceedingly kind and wise person. Our communication was always rooted in mutual respect and curiosity. Eddie demonstrated patience whenever I asked him questions about his childhood struggles and experiences of grief. Naturally, I would often express guilt after complaining about my own life. After all, he was suffering in prison for something he didn’t do. Eddie had bigger fish to fry.
Eddie on his first fishing trip as a free man!
However, despite his hardships — including both the physical horror of living in a prison and the psychological horror of being unjustly incarcerated — Eddie never made me feel as though my teenage problems were insignificant or petty. He served as a mentor while I navigated friendships, family life, and my first year as an undergrad. He generously shared his interests and joys with me by creating playlists featuring his favorite ‘80s and ‘90s songs, explaining his goals for the science fiction novels he self-published, and disclosing his life before prison when he served as a volunteer firefighter. Remarkably, Eddie remained positive despite his circumstances. He closed every letter with the following sentiment: “Smile and Have A Wonderful Day and Week!”
Eddie’s tagline
I am far from being the sole recipient of Eddie’s guidance. With his extensive self-taught legal knowledge, he assisted other wrongfully convicted people as they navigated the law. In September of 2020, he won a civil action suit against the Massachusetts DOC for violating the Constitutional rights of incarcerated people by seizing and photocopying non-privileged incoming mail at the Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center. But Eddie’s compassion goes beyond legal advocacy. Eddie is a highly revered husband, sibling, and member of the community. His humility shines through when he praises Mimi for all she has accomplished, when he shows up for his siblings when they need support, and when he expresses admiration for his lawyers’ hard work.
Eddie taught me the importance of appreciating everyday moments. In one letter, he wrote:
February 2023 letter from Eddie
His optimistic mindset and gentle demeanor continued to inspire me. When I wrote to Eddie about my journey with depression, he was quick to offer support and encouragement:
January 2024 letter from Eddie
And when I felt discouraged by the slow progress of social causes I care about, he offered firsthand wisdom about perseverance:
April 2022 letter from Eddie
Through my bond with Eddie, I also grew to know Mimi. After briefly communicating again on Nextdoor in 2023, we became fast friends, sharing a love for thrift stores, Joni Mitchell, and “collecting” things. The walls of her home are covered with artwork by her daughter’s friends and by kids from her Unitarian Universalist church, where she taught. In my earlier visits to her home, I barely noticed her eclectic decorations. I was too busy looking at the pixelated photographs of Eddie that adorned every door (and the occasional pillow). Mimi explained that she even received bi-annual complimentary beach towels with photos of Eddie on them from her favorite photography app. I examined these life-sized images of a man I knew well but had never met, disappointed that the real Eddie was not standing before me.
Visits to Mimi’s home became a regular occurrence during college breaks. When we weren’t chatting or sharing a meal, we rose at “the crack of dawn” (for Mimi, that was 8 a.m.) to drive to Eddie’s hearings in Springfield. The drives there were tentatively hopeful, but the drives back were regrettably sullen. We often drove four hours round-trip only to learn that the judge was taking matters under advisement, meaning that Eddie would have to wait several more months before the next stage.
At the hearings, we were surrounded by other supporters who believed in Eddie’s innocence. This was how I met members of the New England Innocence Project (NEIP) and began working with them. Soon I was reading about Eddie both from NEIP’s legal documents as well as from his personal letters. It was bizarre to sit in a cubicle at the NEIP office, sitting across from a poster the staff had created displaying my friend’s face. From his NEIP attorneys, I gained firsthand knowledge about the pursuable legal avenues in Eddie’s case. I began recognizing more people at each hearing: an endearing amalgamation of exonerees, family, investigators, and lawyers. On April 11, 2025, the Court overturned Eddie’s wrongful conviction. The Commonwealth then appealed the decision. There was a tense waiting period, but the Supreme Judicial Court denied the Commonwealth’s appeal, something that almost never happens.
When Eddie’s attorneys shared the news, I left the office and emitted a strange amalgamation of tears and laughter. I was floored – after years of denied motions and false hope, I grew accustomed to lowering my expectations. I tried to imagine Eddie hearing the decision. I pictured him receiving the call while drafting legal arguments for other wrongfully incarcerated people. His compassion made me smile. I was overjoyed that he was closer to his own freedom after years of fighting for justice for others.
Then came more waiting for the second bail hearing, which resulted in the matter being taken under advisement.
The following Thursday, I received a text from Mimi:
“Eddie got bail. IT’S TODAY.”
I called Mimi immediately to determine if this was a prank. When she told me she was serious, I screamed and laughed maniacally. I felt beyond excited about his release and the righteousness of his cause. The freedom that Eddie craved was both physical and psychological: he needed agency and time outside the walls, but he also needed to have his name cleared and his personhood restored. I couldn’t help but cry thinking about his long-awaited victory and the fact that he would be coming home that very day. It was surreal.
Eddie and Mimi with his legal team as they speak to the press
The two of us drove excitedly over to the Springfield courthouse, and Mimi fielded call after call from her loved ones along the way. Her mother, sisters, employer, and countless friends were in disbelief that this was happening. When we arrived in Springfield, we were greeted by the NEIP team. A few minutes later, I turned and saw Eddie walking toward us, holding Mimi’s hand. Then Eddie approached me with a huge smile on his face and his arms outstretched, finally without handcuffs.
“Come here, girl!”
I ran to give him a hug. Here he was, standing in front of me. The real Eddie—not a poster or a beach towel. It was surreal. After lawyers from the New England Innocence Project spoke to the press about the joy of Eddie’s freedom, but also the fight to exonerate him that was still ahead, the team went to a burger joint to get Eddie his first real cheeseburger in 41 years. Later, I continued to crash Eddie and Mimi’s first date as I accepted a ride with them back to Boston. I watched from the backseat as they sang along to Mary J. Blige.
Eddie and Mimi’s “first date”
According to Eddie, Mimi spent the next week pinching him to see if he was real. According to Mimi, Eddie spent the next week deep-cleaning the house, starting at “the crack of dawn” (for Eddie, that was 4:30 a.m.) in an effort to undo the damage of Mimi’s “collecting.” Eddie called me to tell me that he is excited for many more cheeseburgers, “Game of Thrones” episodes, and fishing trips. But my guess is that no food, TV show, or aquatic adventure compares to the feeling of being free.
Thank you for reading about my brilliant friend Eddie. If you’d like to support him during his reentry process and you’re looking for a spooky read, please consider purchasing his novel Parasite. You can also make a gift to the Exoneree Network to help Eddie and others like him rebuild in freedom.
