Trial inspired career in court

The prosecutor's skill in the courtroom left a powerful impression on young Timothy Martin, who was 17 when he watched his brother's attacker stand trial more than 17 years ago.

Martin sat with his parents and sister as they watched the seasoned prosecutor, Learned Barry, win a death sentence for the man who in 1993 shot Edward Martin in the head and fatally wounded Edward's girlfriend, Sheryl Stack, in a robbery in South Richmond. Edward, who suffered permanent injuries in the shooting, was the prosecution's star witness who enabled conviction of the shooter, Andre L. Graham.

For Timothy Martin, the lasting memory of Barry fighting in court for his family and the murder victim's helped inspire him, at age 27, to go to law school and become a prosecutor.

"I never forgot watching him in that courtroom," Martin recalled recently. "His command of that courtroom was unbelievable."

Soon after graduating from law school, Martin got a job in 2007 as a prosecutor for the Richmond Commonwealth's Attorney's Office, where Barry is a deputy prosecutor who oversees the city's murder cases.

Barry was amazed when Martin introduced himself and explained that he is the younger brother of Edward Martin. Barry, who has prosecuted hundreds of murder cases since 1974, never forgot Edward Martin's moving testimony when he took the witness stand after overcoming injuries so severe that he had to relearn how to walk and talk.

"Fast-forward 14 years, and this guy walks in and introduces himself to me," Barry said, "and I have no idea who he is."

Timothy Martin, who hadn't seen Barry since the trial in 1994, told Barry he wanted to prosecute murder cases.

"I said, 'That's great, happy to have you,' " Barry recalled.

Since then, Assistant Commonwealth's Attorney Martin has handled more than a dozen homicide cases.

Martin is motivated to handle violent cases because he believes they allow him to do the most good. "I know firsthand the impact that those cases have on victims and their families," he said.

"He's yet to lose one," Barry added. "He really wants to do it, and they're not easy to do."

"There's his inspiration," added Barry, referring to Martin's brother, who has made an incredible recovery but still has only partial use of his right hand and a slight delay when expressing himself in conversation.

"I'm proud of him," Edward Martin said.

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It was 3:45 a.m., on Oct. 8, 1993, in the parking lot behind what was then a Steak and Ale restaurant on Midlothian Turnpike.

Edward Martin, who was 23, and Stack, 20, had been out on a date, and he had taken her back to her car outside the restaurant, where they both worked part time.

They had been kissing in the front seat of his car before they were interrupted by Graham rapping the barrel of a gun against the car door.

"We won't hurt you if you get on the ground," Graham said.

They complied. Martin recalls that he and Stack closed their eyes, and Graham shot them both in the head. Stack died two days later.

Martin only partially remembers the event. "I get flashes, and I don't know if they're real."

The shooting left Martin with part of his brain missing. He was in a coma for two weeks and had to undergo several surgeries. His left eye had to be removed, although he had been born partially blind in that eye. When he emerged from the coma, all he could do was move his left arm.

But he recovered quickly enough to testify against Graham a year after the shooting, one of the hardest things he has done. At that time, he was having much more difficulty expressing himself than he does now.

"I didn't have my speech back," Martin said. "My speech was slower."

Barry remembers watching Martin limp into the courtroom and make his way to the witness stand. "That was one of the most dramatic moments in my entire life," Barry said.

Martin pointed to Graham and identified him as the shooter, which Barry said was crucial to winning the death penalty because Graham's accomplice, Mark A. Sheppard, was involved in the crime, too.

"I testified," Martin recalled, "and it was hard for me to come out with … like pointing. Hard for me. I walked back and Mr. Stack hugged me."

"His testimony was compelling," Timothy Martin recalled. "I could tell that everyone in the courtroom, including the jury, was moved by his testimony."

Graham and Sheppard previously had been convicted in the November 1993 slayings of Richard Rosenbluth, 40, and Rebecca Rosenbluth, 35, in their Chesterfield County home. The Rosenbluths had been buying cocaine from Sheppard and Graham.

Sheppard was sentenced to death in that case, and Graham received a life sentence. So it was important to Barry that he get a death sentence for Graham in the Richmond case.

Graham and Sheppard were executed in 1999.

* * * * *

Timothy Martin, now 34, grew up in western Henrico County. His brother, Edward, is now 41, and their sister, Mary Beth, is 44.

Timothy Martin, an avid bicyclist and skier, graduated from Collegiate School and played tennis at East Carolina University and the University of Mary Washington, where he completed his undergraduate studies with a major in political science. He later earned a master's degree in criminal justice at Virginia Commonwealth University before he went to the University of Richmond School of Law.

His parents still live in the home he grew up in near Gaskins and River roads, an area of Henrico that is far removed from the steady violence seen in other parts of the county or in the city.

In 1993, Stack was one of more than 100 people murdered in Richmond.

"It was a very shocking experience — the whole world of homicide, though there were lots and lots in Richmond," said Martin, recalling his reaction when he heard about the shooting. "I didn't live in a world that was impacted on a daily basis by violence."

Growing up, Martin always had a keen sense of justice and ethics, said his father, Cecil.

On the tennis court, Martin never made a wrong call unless it was to the benefit of his opponent, his father said.

"I think he's a very fair person. He always has a good reason for what he does," Cecil Martin said. "I don't think there could be a better fit for a person than what Timothy does. If you break the law, and you do a violent crime, whoever comes before him is going to get Timothy's best effort to punish him for the crime."

* * * * *

Martin has prosecuted some very violent cases. In 2009, he handled a case involving two men who beat one man to death and later attacked a witness to the fatal beating and pounded him to within an inch of his life, leaving him disfigured and with impaired vision.

One of the defendants was ordered to serve 40 years in prison and the other 25 years.

Martin also handled a case that resulted last month in a 29-year active prison sentence for a woman who set a house on fire in a jealous rage, killing a romantic rival. The defendant, Michelle Yvette Hampton, set a fire on the first floor of an abandoned house in North Richmond while her ex-boyfriend and another woman, Jacquelin Yvonne Anderson, were asleep together on the second floor, killing Anderson. Hampton pleaded guilty.

"He understands what's supposed to go on in the courtroom," Barry said. "He takes the pressure of a murder case in stride, and he's very detail-oriented."

Martin said Barry is his mentor. "He acts like he's just some average guy, but the guy's skillfully prosecuted about 800 murders," Martin said. "One thing I've always wanted to do is be in the courtroom alongside Learned."

In December, Martin and Commonwealth's Attorney Michael N. Herring prosecuted Don Farmer, who was sentenced to 125 years in prison for his role in the 1987 murder of 73-year-old Eathel Fraenzel and the rape of a then-18-year-old woman. Farmer had been living as a free man until a DNA "cold hit" led to his arrest in early 2011.

"The rape victim gave me the warmest, sincerest hug at the end of the sentencing that I've ever experienced," Martin said. "That was probably the most meaningful thing that's happened to me in this job."

Martin said he always has had a fascination with justice but that he believes his family's horrible brush with violence must have had an impact on the career path he chose. "I've never had any interest in vengeance," he said.

He said he doesn't think about his brother's shooting on a daily basis. "I try not to bring that experience into any individual case because that experience was largely emotional. Emotion is probably not conducive to good judgment."

He adds that not every case calls for a maximum sentence.

"Sometimes it's about finding an alternative punishment," he said, "and sometimes it's about sending a person away for as long as possible in a case that warrants it."