Clarence Lee Brandley Sr. can relate to the sad plight of Anthony Graves, a former Texas death row inmate set free this week after spending 18 years behind bars for a crime he did not commit.

Ernest Ray Willis also can relate to Graves' ordeal. Kerry Max Cook can, too.

Brandley, Willis and Cook all walked free from Texas death row after they were exonerated like Graves — and they know full well the pain of losing precious years with their families and children, years of their lives that can never be replaced.

"You can never make up for that time. I mean, it's gone, you know?" said Willis, a 65-year-old Midland man, who spent nearly 18 years on death row before his conviction was overturned, leading to his release in 2004. "I can't bring back those years. I realize that, and (Graves) will have to realize that. Not dwell on it, but move on."

Graves, 45, was released on Wednesday from the Burleson County Jail, where he had been waiting for a new trial. Prosecutors now say there is no way Graves could have committed the crime for which he was convicted — helping another man kill a Somerville family of six in 1992.

Prosecutors have accused the former Burleson County district attorney, Charles Sebesta, of prosecutorial misconduct in the case, which Sebesta has flatly denied.

Graves faces a challenge as he returns to the free world and prepares to rebuild his life after spending so many years behind bars, other freed Texas death row inmates said.

"I just think he should take a little time off to get re-adjusted … try to catch up on some of the family things he missed," said Brandley, 59, now living back in Conroe, the town where he was wrongfully convicted.

Brandley spent nine years on death row after being convicted in the 1980 rape and strangulation death of a 16-year-old girl at Conroe High School, where he worked as chief janitor. An appeals court reversed his conviction a decade later, citing an evidentiary hearing in which the presiding judge said two other janitors were the probable killers.

Take life 'day at a time'

Brandley suggested Graves should spend his newfound freedom focusing more on his personal life instead of immediately looking for work.

"First of all, you've got to know that you've got a family that's going to be there when you get out and who will support you until you get back on your feet," Brandley said. "That's the most important thing you need to have. If you don't have that family support base, it's kind of hard to make it out there."

Strangers also will likely recognize Graves when he goes places, Brandley suggested. "But that's not what he wants — he wants to be able to move forward with his life and just take life one day at a time."

Cook said he is still "a work in progress," trying to transition back into society 12 years after his release from prison. He was sent to death row in 1978 for the 1977 slaying of a secretary at what is now the University of Texas at Tyler. At different times, he was housed in prison cells next to Brandley or Willis.

During his 22 years on death row, Cook said he lost his entire family. His brother was murdered, his father died of cancer and his mother "went insane," he said Friday. His mother died shortly after got out of prison in 1999.

"I still have nightmares, I still struggle, but I still know I'm a miracle," said Cook, 54, of Plano, now the married father of a 10-year-old boy whose middle name is Justice.

Brandley said life only gets better when someone can live freely, not on a prison schedule, and can savor the quiet of a comfortable home, a welcome release after the constant noise inside a prison.

"It's the little things you will appreciate," said Brandley, who lives alone in his mother's former home. "You get a chance to get outside and go to the park and walk. You just do what you want because you don't have nobody telling you what time you've got to be back and all of that. Your life is not controlled anymore."

'No room for anger'

Despite the precious time lost behind bars, Graves has said he is not angry about the years he was wrongfully imprisoned. Cook, who helped champion Graves' innocence and fought for Graves to be released, believes him.

"He knows how incredibly lucky he is," said Cook, who wrote about Graves' case in his 2007 book Chasing Justice. "He's not angry because he knows he's a miracle. There's no room for anger — there is joy, glee, excitement."

Willis also predicted that Graves will be a wealthy man because of the compensation money he could receive from the state for the years he was wrongfully locked up.

Money, marriage helped

Willis, who started a business transporting oversized boats following his release from prison and retired two years ago, said he also received state compensation for his wrongful imprisonment. But the money is little comfort for the years he lost. Willis refused to say how much he was paid, saying it is nobody's business.

"Wasn't near enough, I'll put it that way," he said of the money he received. "Even if it was $50 million, it wouldn't be enough to bring back those years. They're gone."

Willis was pardoned on grounds of innocence after he was wrongfully convicted in Pecos County for the 1986 arson-related death of a 24-year-old San Antonio woman. Two women died in the fire at the house where Willis had been living, but prosecutors later acknowledged that his conviction was based on faulty scientific evidence and that the fire was probably an accident.

Willis got married by proxy while still in prison. He and his wife have been married for 10 years now. He is the father of four adult children and now has six grandchildren.

Brandley, who said he was laid off from his job at the Metropolitan Transportation Authority almost three years ago and is still looking for work, is a father of five and a grandfather of six.

peggy.ohare@chron.com