Man Spared Jail In Fatal Fistfight

Two old friends met up in court. One asked the judge to send the other to jail. Then the two men hugged.

The emotional scene happened Friday morning on the sixth floor of Connecticut Superior Court on Church Street.

Tyrone Adams showed up there to be sentenced by Judge Richard Damiani for the Nov. 10 streetcorner death of Rickey Greene. Adams, a lifelong friend of Greene’s family, had a fight with Greene at the corner of Orchard and Munson Streets over $20 in gas money. He pleaded guilty to manslaughter in the second degree. He walked into a packed courtroom Friday morning wearing jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt.

Willie Greene (pictured), Rickey Greene’s brother and a former alderman, showed up, too. The two have known each other for years. Adams even worked on Greene’s campaign for state representative last year. Greene appeared in court to weigh in on his brother’s killing.

Adams has been walking free since that incident. He has said he never intended to kill Rickey when the two got into a fight.

He was spared jail time, but not before a dramatic hearing that made tears flow.

In testimony before the judge, Greene asked Damiani to send the man to jail.

“This has been devastating for my family,” Greene said.

He conceded that his brother struggle with drugs and alcohol and may have had them in his system on the day he died. He conceded that his brother may have used choice words when Adams pulled up to the corner in a car that day. But he said Adams had no excuse for the fatal fight.

Witnesses have disagreed over whether Rickey Greene provoked the fight by swinging at Adams first. In either case, Willie Greene said it was not a fair fight, by far — especially since Adams weighs ​“300 pounds” and his brother weighed ​“150 pounds, soaking wet.” He said his brother was walking away when Adams punched him, knocking him to the ground. Adams left him lying on the street, Greene said.

Adams was arrested on Jan. 14 after a medical examiner’s report concluded that Greene, 48, died from ​“minute trauma to the head,” probably from falling on the pavement.

It wasn’t Adams’ first offense — he served 10 years on manslaughter-related charges connected to a 1991 double-slaying at the Athenian diner on Whalley Avenue.

Willie Greene told the judge Friday that Adams has already torn apart two families in addition to his.

“I think anything less than jail time is an insult to my family,” Greene told Damiani. He said a sentence of probation would send a ​“really terrible message” to the Newhallville community — a message that it’s OK to turn to violence to solve disputes.

Damiani (pictured) said while he can empathize with the family, as a judge, ​“you’ve got to take the emotions out and go according to the law.”

He sentenced Adams to five years in prison with a suspended sentence and three years’ probation. That means he won’t serve any jail time, but will come back for a hearing if he violates probation.

“This was not an easy decision,” said Damiani. He said if the case went to trial, a jury would be unlikely to find him guilty of manslaughter. Jurors would likely come back with a lesser charge of assault in the third, he reasoned.

The state prosecutor, Maxine Wilensky, agreed. While ​“the pain of the family is palpable,” she said, the state might not have been able to sustain a manslaughter charge in a jury trial.

Greene was not pleased.

“Once again, he walks the street,” he told the court. ​“A mother buried her baby son, and he’s paid no consequence.” Adams never spent one hour in jail for the offense, Greene noted. ​“This is easy for him.”

Adams’ public defender, Beth Merkin, disagreed. Adams ​“is very upset about this,” she said, especially because the two families have been friends for years.

Damiani suggested Adams use the occasion to apologize. Adams went above and beyond that prompt.

“I’m really, really sorry,” said Adams. As he spoke, his voice quickly became shrill with emotion and tears streamed down his face. A clerk handed him a box of tissues.

“You don’t know how much it hurts me,” Adams said. ​“Every time I see his mother on the porch, I want to say something to her.” He hasn’t been able to apologize because of a protective order.

“You just don’t know how I feel,” he declared, turning toward Greene.

Damiani ordered him to go to anger management counseling as part of probation. He asked Greene if he would like the court to prohibit Adams from contacting his family.

Greene declined. If Adams wants to speak with his mother, that’s OK, he said.

When the court session ended, Adams walked through the aisle to where Greene was standing in the back of the room. Still in tears, Adams gave him a big hug.