Exonerated: Evaristo Salas looks forward to life with family, friends and community (2024)

Evaristo Junior Salas of Sunnyside has never owned a car, obtained a driver’s license or possessed a state identification card. He’s 42.

That’s because he was incarcerated at 15 on suspicion of first-degree murder and tried as an adult in Yakima County Superior Court. A jury convicted him two days after his 16th birthday and he was sentenced to nearly 33 years in prison.

On Thursday, Salas sat outside his dad’s Sunnyside bungalow with a Yakima Herald-Republic reporter, sharing his experience in prison and reminiscing about the neighborhood in which he grew up.

His older sister, Debbie Salas, and dad, Ruben Alvarado, sat nearby.

“Every tree around here more than 20 years old, I’ve climbed,” he said. “I’ve been on all these roofs.”

But his last memory of his childhood home isn’t pleasant.

Police showed one morning in May 1996, saying they wanted to talk to Salas. He was taken to the Sunnyside Police Department and told he was being arrested for the Nov. 14, 1995, murder of Jose Arreola, a man Salas said he didn’t even know.

Salas said he was often questioned by police for things like throwing rocks but nothing like this.

“Really I thought they were joking, just trying to scare me,” he said.

But as time wore on that day at the police department, Salas realized police were serious. Crying, he called his dad at his work.

That was nearly 27 years ago.

Salas maintained his innocence. He and his family never gave up hope that some day he would be exonerated. That day came on Aug. 17, when Yakima County Prosecutor Joe Brusic dismissed the murder charge with prejudice, meaning that it could not be refiled.

Brusic said information in the hearing surfaced that prosecutors weren’t aware of during the trail, and that the state probably couldn’t prove the charge now.

Salas could have been released much earlier if he would have taken advantage of state Supreme Court ruling that allowed for sentence reductions for juveniles who were tried as adults.

Salas said it wasn’t easy watching several fellow inmates who met that criteria get released.

But Salas said he didn’t want to go that route because he didn’t do the crime.

“I wasn’t going to ask the judge for leniency on a crime I didn’t do,” he said. “Not only is it wrong morally, it blurs the line. I was either going to get exonerated or I wasn’t. It was really hard.”

'I prepared for this day'

Prison life wasn’t easy, Salas said.

He’d dream of being home, going to work with his dad, only to wake up in a cell.

“In prison it’s always dull, tainted with sadness, a depressive state,” Salas said.

But he made good use of his time while locked up.

Sitting under a carport at home, he flipped through a folder with probably 100 or more certificates he earned in prison.

Numerous certificates were for public speaking seminars he participated in and helped organize through Toastmasters International, a worldwide nonprofit that operates education programs offering public speaking and leadership skills.

He’d invite others to participate in the seminars that were often composed of 40 to 50 inmates, he said.

There was one certificate for his GED, another for completing more than 400 hours in a pre-apprentice program with Home Builders Association and several citations for his work as a shipping and receiving traffic clerk for the state Department of Corrections, where he was responsible for prison supply inventory amounting to about $2 million a year.

The past several months of his incarceration, he worked for the state Department of Natural Resources fighting wildfires.

“I wanted to give myself options,” he said. "Anything that would teach me life beyond prison walls.

“I prepared for this day.”

A warm welcome home

Salas wore a broad smile when he walked out of Airway Heights Correction Center near Spokane and into the arms of his family and attorneys.

His family took him to McDonald’s for a burger and fries before heading back to Sunnyside.

Debbie Salas said her brother became a little overwhelmed when he first arrived at the house. He was swarmed by nieces, nephews and other family members who missed him.

“He went to his room,” she said. “He wanted his boxes from prison. He arranged his room and then he was fine.”

The family took Salas swimming at a park along the Columbia River in the Tri-Cities, a place where they’d camp and swim when he was young.

“All the family was there, we had a barbecue – It was just like old times,” Salas said.

“Except there were a few more kids around,” his sister said, referring to Salas’ nieces and nephews.

Debbie Salas said her brother was a fish, always wanting to swim.

But this time he eased into the water and stayed in an area roped off for small children.

“I didn’t want to leave that area because I felt like I couldn’t swim anymore,” he said. “I hadn’t swam in 27 years.”

After more than two decades in prison, Salas had goodbyes to say.

“I literally shook 10 or 15 guards’ hands on the way to be released,” Salas said. “One came up to me and said: ‘I’m sorry for what happened to you.’ ”

That same sentiment reverberated across communities throughout the region. Many people recognized him from media coverage and a documentary series that featured his story on the Starz television network.

His family took him shopping in the Tri-Cities the weekend after his release. The owner of a sports apparel shop congratulated him and gave him 20% off whatever he wanted to buy.

“Anytime you come in here, 20% off,” Salas said the store owner told him.

A Sunnyside store owner made him a cake and invited him to come and pick it up, he said.

And a woman at Walmart recognized him and gave him a blanket and pillow, Salas said.

Salas says the outpouring of support “is just amazing.”

“I think to some extent, they felt my pain,” he said.

Salas has not lost sight of the Arreola family. He says his exoneration doesn’t bring any closure to them.

“My dad lost me for 26 years,” he said. “At least at the end of that, I was able to come back. That Arreola family, they don’t have that.”

Salas said he hopes the family pressures authorities to reopen their investigation of the case.

“A wrongful conviction is also a wrongful acquittal,” Salas said. “They’re essentially saying to the person who did this: ‘Don’t worry about us – you’re good.’ ”

A new beginning

Salas is in the process of learning to drive so he can get a driver's license. He’s also applying for health insurance and has plenty of job offers.

He also wants to get a passport, so he can fly to The Netherlands to visit his fiancée.

She was among many who wrote Salas after his story was featured in the Starz documentary.

They kept writing each other, and a relationship developed, he said.

Salas is staying in the same bedroom he had as a kid. A large bed takes up more than half the room.

A 48-inch television his brother got him hangs on one wall. His family also got him an iPhone 14.

Salas pointed to a stack of books on a shelf, including one titled “Social Media Marketing for Dummies” and another titled “Internet for Dummies”.

“This was my insurance policy for when I got out,” he said.

Salas now plans to seek housing and work.

“My family has been great, open their doors, but I’ve got to walk on my own two feet,” he said. “I’m pretty much 30 years behind people my age.”