Issue 2: March/April

Q&A
Jailed

Vanessa Leggett: Why She Wouldn't Give Up Her Notes

Vanessa Leggett, thirty-three, recently served a 168-day prison sentence in the Federal Detention Center in Houston for refusing to surrender her notes -- including conversations with confidential sources -- to a grand jury, making her the longest-jailed journalist in U.S. history. Virtually an unpublished writer, she hoped to produce a true-crime book about a high-profile murder. In court, Leggett claimed a reporter's privilege under the U.S. Constitution. Judge Melinda Harmon of the Southern District of Texas, however, ruled that journalists have no such privilege when required to divulge "either confidential or nonconfidential information in a criminal case." The opinion did not surprise Lucy Dalglish, the executive director of the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press. "The most difficult privilege to assert is the right to withhold information from a grand jury," Dalglish says.

Leggett was released when the grand jury before which she was ordered to testify ended its investigation in early January. But a new grand jury could further investigate the case, again forcing Leggett to choose between her principles and her freedom. Joshua Lipton, a CJR assistant editor, interviewed her.

What did the U.S. Attorney's office demand from you, and why did you refuse to cooperate?
They wanted any and all copies and originals of interviews I conducted for the book -- the entire research archive, even depriving me of copies for myself. That set off alarms in my head because I found it highly unusual that the government would seek all copies and originals -- including the interviews I did with law-enforcement people connected with the investigation.

Did they ever explain that to you?
No, they didn't. When my attorney asked one of the prosecutors during a closed hearing why they had subpoenaed those materials, the answer was that they had heard allegations of vindictiveness on the part of certain agencies. I inferred that they were looking for any statements made by police that would show that this prosecution was vindictive.

You initially cooperated with Houston-based FBI agents. Why was that?
This agent assured me that they did not want me to reveal sources. I agreed to talk to them because, for one reason, I was looking at them as characters in my book. I imagined that they were going to question me about certain tapes, and they did. Law enforcers already had those tapes, so I really didn't see any harm in testifying about them. It wasn't until the police and the prosecutors started asking me about my confidential sources that I shut down.

What was your defense in court?
That they had not been specific in their request, that the subpoena was over-broad, that it was a fishing expedition, basically. Also, that they had not established that any of the information sought was relevant to their investigation. And thirdly, that they hadn't met the burden of showing that the information was not obtainable from other sources besides the writer.

You also claimed First Amendment protection.
Yeah, I asserted my privilege against testifying because what they were seeking from me would have a chilling effect on journalists' activities, and I was acting in the capacity of a journalist.

Do you think you were more vulnerable to this kind of prosecution because you have no ties to a media organization?
I think that's precisely why I've been treated this way. I think the strongest evidence of that is that this murder story had been covered by numerous people from various media. And I am the only one who has been subpoenaed.

Will your incarceration discourage independent journalists from aggressive reporting?
It's hard to measure. But I had a call earlier today from a friend of mine who is also a writer. Her new book is about Andrea Yates, who drowned her children here in Houston. She told me that while investigating that case, many sources said, 'Well, I don't know if I should tell you this; look at what happened to Vanessa Leggett. Would you be willing to go to jail for me?'

What was it like in jail for you?
It was very monotonous. I was treated as if I were a criminal, and a flight risk. If I was walking down the hall and guards approached, I couldn't just stand and face them. I had to face the wall and stand staring at the wall until I was told I could turn around. But when it became apparent to me that the government's actions in my case would have an effect on the press's freedom to operate independently, that really just strengthened my resolve. I realized there was something larger than my sources and my book at stake.

After 168 days in prison, are you still committed to this story?
Absolutely, more than ever.

Enjoy this piece? Consider a CJR trial subscription.