Donald Parham

At 16, Brian Banks was one of the best high school linebackers in America. USC had offered him a full scholarship. Pete Carroll personally called him. One afternoon at school he made out with a classmate. Consensual. By the end of the day he was in jail, charged with kidnapping and rape. She said he dragged her into a stairwell. It never happened. The DNA came back negative. His mother sold her house and her car to pay for a lawyer. He couldn’t make bail. He spent a year behind bars waiting for trial. His lawyer told him: plead no contest, or risk 41 years in prison. He was 17. He took the deal. He did 5 years in prison. Then 5 more on parole. Registered sex offender. GPS monitor on his ankle. Couldn’t go near schools or parks. No one would hire him. Meanwhile, the girl and her mother sued the school district for not keeping her safe. They won $1.5 million. In 2011, a Facebook friend request popped up on his screen. It was her. She wanted to “let bygones be bygones.” Brian went to a private investigator. They hid cameras in the office and invited her to talk. She came by bus. On tape, she admitted it. He never raped her. He never kidnapped her. Then she said she still wouldn’t tell prosecutors the truth. Because she’d have to give back the money. In May 2012, a judge cleared his name. The hearing took less than a minute. 10 years of his life. Gone in one lie. Erased in 60 seconds. A few days later his phone rang. “I’m looking for a linebacker. You know where I can find one?” It was Pete Carroll. The same coach who recruited him 10 years earlier. He finally signed with the NFL’s Atlanta Falcons. At 27. The dream he had at 16. She was ordered to pay $2.6 million back. What should happen to someone who steals 10 years of your life with one lie?