One problem was its basis on unreliable eyewitness evidence. One witness, Leonard Turner, told Miller's brother, Stan, that Woodfox had done it, but later recanted. From the New York Times:

[Turner] testified in 1998 that he had not seen the murder and then in 2002 signed a statement for Mr. Woodfox’s lawyers saying that he did see the murder but that he knew “for an absolute fact” that Mr. Woodfox had not been involved. Mr. Turner’s is only one of the problematic witness accounts on which the case rested; no forensic evidence was found that tied Mr. Woodfox or Mr. Wallace to the murder. Mr. Woodfox’s lawyers highlighted not only the inconsistency of the accounts but also incentives that in some cases were undisclosed by prosecutors before trial: an unusual furlough for one witness, a governor’s pardon for another and for one, a transfer to a custody situation with such minimal security that he was able to rob three banks while still under state supervision.

Unreliable witness testimony was not the only issue with Woodfox's conviction. The International Coalition to Free the Angola 3 (ICFA3) notes that "Over the course of the past four decades, Albert’s conviction was overturned three separate times for a host of constitutional violations including prosecutorial misconduct, inadequate defense, racial discrimination in the selection of the grand jury foreperson, and suppression of exculpatory evidence."

From the New York Times:

In 1992, Mr. Woodfox’s conviction was thrown out on the ground that he had not had effective assistance of counsel. He was convicted at a second trial in 1998, though that conviction was overturned in 2013 because of discrimination in the selection of the grand jury foreman. Mr. Wallace’s conviction was overturned the same year on similar grounds. Dying of lung cancer, Mr. Wallace was ordered released by a federal judge. “He died three days later,” Mr. Woodfox said, his voice breaking. “But he died a free man.”

Woodfox and Wallace were two of the Angola 3, along with Robert King. According to the Times-Picayune, “The designation came from supporters who believed the three men were wrongly convicted of prison murders in retaliation for their political activism inside Angola.” All three were members of the prison chapter of the Black Panthers, and “led hunger strikes and other demonstrations to oppose inhumane prison conditions...[including] continued racial segregation, corruption and ‘systematic prison rape.’”

King was released in 2001 after 29 years in solitary confinement. He is still alive and was there when Woodfox was released.

Last year, a federal judge ordered Woodfox’s release and barred the state from retrying him, calling it the "only just remedy." According to ICFA3, "A divided panel of the 5th Circuit Court of appeals reversed that order in November with the dissenting Judge arguing that 'If ever a case justifiably could be considered to present ‘exceptional circumstances’ barring re-prosecution, this is that case.' That ruling was on appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court when news of his release broke."

In the end, Woodfox's plea deal ensured his immediate release.

Woodfox saw the horrors of solitary first hand. “I’ve seen grown men turn into babies — you know, they just lay in their bed in a fetal position and don’t talk,” he said. “I’ve seen guys who can’t stop talking. I’ve seen guys that scream all day.”

According to the Times-Picayune, Woodfox also endured some painful realities.

"The mental fight, he said, was resisting the panic that used to grip him in that 6-by-9 feet cell. "You pace, you know. Walk up and down the cell...And you fight the urge to take off all your clothes, 'cause...you feel like everything is weighing you down," Woodfox said. "You go through this psychological self-analysis and then you talking to yourself, and telling yourself that you strong enough...Just trying to push these walls back and the ceiling back with the force of mind." During one three-year period, Woodfox said the only way he could sleep was sitting up in bed. When he laid down and tried to cover himself, "even if it was just a sheet," he said, "it felt like I was being smothered."

Yet Woodfox survived, and thrived as well as he could. Despite this, the state has continued to try to keep him in prison and label him a threat. The New York Times reports that "In a 2008 filing about bail, the state laid out its case for labeling Mr. Woodfox a “dangerous inmate.” The previous attorney general, Buddy Caldwell, once called Woodfox "the most dangerous man on the planet." But both accusations lacked evidentiary support. According to the New York Times, in that 2008 bail filing:

Six incidents over the preceding two decades were listed, including hollering and shaking the bars of his cell in 2002 and threatening to start a hunger strike in 1999. In none of the cases was anyone hurt, though officials said in 1992 that he had been found with the makings of a homemade spear. (George Kendall, a lawyer for Mr. Woodfox, said it had been made of paper.)

Woodfox had the same routine for many years: Working out in the morning, writing letters, and reading in the afternoon. He read "newspapers, law books, and political literature— Nelson Mandela, Malcolm X, James Baldwin."

Woodfox is walking away from this situation hoping to rectify the injustices he faced. In a statement released by his lawyers he said, “I can now direct all my efforts to ending the barbarous use of solitary confinement and will continue my work on that issue here in the free world.”

The NYTimes reports that when Woodfox was asked to recall his last experiences as a "free man" in the outside world,

"Mr. Woodfox said he did not remember it as a feeling of freedom. True freedom he discovered much later, he said, after years of reading of brave men. “When I began to understand who I was, I considered myself free,” he said. “No matter how much concrete they use to hold me in a particular place they couldn’t stop my mind.” Woodfox has managed to find perspective in an unjust situation.

"I learned how strong the human spirit can be, that the change has to come from within,” Woodfox said to the Times Picayune. “I learned that although human beings do horrible things sometimes, they still have worth. And that there should be a certain amount of dignity given to every human being even though they're in prison," he said. "And that's not the way it is now."