Sentence Finished, Daryl Valentine Steps Free

For three months, Daryl Valentine’s name had been taped to a locked mailbox at 70 Shelton Ave., followed by the words ​“DO NOT REMOVE.”

On Monday morning, Valentine defied those words, peeled off his name, and took his last steps down the front stairs, into a new life of freedom.

The state Department of Correction (DOC) had required Valentine to stay in the second-floor apartment at 70 Shelton, part of a halfway home program administered by the Connection’s REACH division, for the remaining months of his ​“community release.”

He moved into the apartment on Valentine’s Day, the second such halfway home he’s had to live in after spending 32 years behind bars for a 1991 double murder he has always said he did not commit. The state Board of Pardons and Paroles granted him a sentence commutation in May 2022, reducing his 100-year sentence by 57 years, but still leaving him in out-of-prison state custody for a year. 

That sentence officially ended on Monday.

On Sunday evening, Valentine checked in at 70 Shelton in time for his daily 9 p.m. curfew. But once midnight struck, he drove to his sister’s home, where he plans to live going forward, for the first good night’s sleep he’s had in a long time. 

“It felt good to sleep in that bed,” he said.

He had long been eager to move out, to live with family, to live in a quieter place; the sounds of gunshots and sirens he often heard at night would set off a trauma that had been festering since he was first convicted for a double-murder more than three decades ago. 

He has always maintained that detectives framed him for that murder, through coerced and bribed witnesses (two of whom later recanted). At one point last year, a unit in the state’s attorney’s office was prepared to support his assertions, although they later walked back an initial finding that Valentine’s conviction was the product of ​“official misconduct.” Valentine’s sentence was commuted to one year of ​“community release” last May.

Monday morning marked the end of the state supervision, of curfews and check-ins and housing restrictions, in Valentine’s life — thought not the end of his fight to clear his name. 

John Doyle, New Haven’s State’s Attorney, is now considering how to respond to the state Conviction Integrity Review Panel’s recommendation that Valentine’s conviction be upheld. Valentine has also filed a habeas case suing the state for wrongful imprisonment.

“I’m holding up my emotions,” Valentine said on Monday. ​“I’m glad I get to walk free. I ain’t vindicated yet.”

For a week, he had already been moving his belongings, bag by bag, to his sister’s place in Hamden. At 8:45 a.m. on Monday, he retrieved the last few hangers and coffee pods left in the apartment. He met his case worker, Khadijah Muhammad, inside the apartment for the last time, and handed her his keys.

“He’s one of the few successful clients that I’ve had,” said Muhammad, adding that Valentine always made curfew and complied with the program’s requirements. ​“It was refreshing to see his family support.”

"Still Unbelievable"

Indeed, Valentine’s family and friends gathered on Shelton Avenue to celebrate his first steps of true freedom.

“It’s still unbelievable,” said Valentine’s son, Daryl Jr. ​“It’s a fight in progress. It’s been a fight all my life.”

Valentine will be moving in with his younger sister, Tolja, in Hamden. ​“I get to love on him all the time,” she said. 

“And I get to baby him,” said Valentine’s mom, Ednora. 

“He owes me 32 years of arguing,” added Tolja — 32 years of making up for the sibling relationship they never quite got to have while Valentine was in prison.

Valentine’s father, Homer, stood for a moment on the front porch of 70 Shelton. Homer had lived in that very house in 1968, when he and his brother first moved to New Haven from South Carolina. Aside from a new coat of paint, the house looked similar, he said — but it had taken on a harsher meaning to the family since his son moved in, becoming the place that stopped family visits short for 9 p.m. curfew. 

The curfew meant that the family rushed their weekly ​“Soulful Sunday” dinners. It meant that Valentine, fastidious about making it back on time, grew nervous around sunset.

On Monday, the rules and pressure and check-ins evaporated. Valentine planned to submit paperwork to the parole office at noon. Then, he would go for a walk along the West Haven shore.

Valentine doesn’t even like the beach much. But he wanted ​“to be open,” Valentine said. ​“The beach is freedom.” He would meet the ocean stretching farther than he could see.