Seeking Justice and Talking Numbers

By Cheryl Lieck Henry, Chambers County District Attorney 

There are times when you just have to take one on the chin, and I experienced that during my recent election. My former opponent continually misrepresented data, even after being called out, regarding my office’s disposition of cases – sex cases in particular. During his time in my employment, my former opponent never worked on a sex case. These are highly specialized, not just because of the degree of skill that comes with knowing the different procedural laws, but also because it requires someone with the ability to handle the trauma and effects of trauma that these crimes produce in the victims and their families. His attacks  were not only misleading, they were felt in a deeply personal manner. I and the prosecutors  who work these cases do them because we care with every fiber of our being about the  outcome of them, no one more so than veteran prosecutor Kathy Esquivel, who has been an  Assistant District Attorney in Chambers County longer than there has been a District  Attorney just for Chambers County. She has dedicated her professional career to handling  sex crimes, particularly those against children, here in Chambers County. It is a terribly  difficult burden. It is often a thankless, nameless job. It’s a job she has done for over 20 years,  bearing the immeasurable weight of the terrible, often unspeakable crimes committed  against the most vulnerable among us. And my opponent, who never even touched one of  these cases while in my office, sought to use her life’s work as political fodder. As a talking  point. 

There were times when this made me question if this was the right tactic. If the public doesn’t  understand what we’re doing, doesn’t believe in us, is it still right? But on days like May 21,  2025, the bruises I carry from the shots I took about our “numbers” are badges of honor. On  that day, a monster who walked among us, Bradley Steven Wilkerson, a 65-year-old from  Winnie, Texas pleaded guilty to Continuous Sexual Abuse of a Young Child and Aggravated  Sexual Assault of a Child. In exchange for those two pleas of guilty, he was sentenced to  prison for 25 years without the possibility of parole on the first charge, 20 years on the second  charge, 10 other cases were dismissed, and four male victims who were between the ages  of 11 and 14 at the time of the assaults did not have to testify in a trial.  

I want to break down what this all means. When our office makes charging decisions, we  typically indict on as many offenses as we know about. This applies to cases of all kinds,  including sexual offenses. That was the case with Mr. Wilkerson, resulting in 12 formal  indictments. Although it looks like our office has dismissed 10 cases, these cases were  dismissed pursuant to a plea, and he is going to prison where in all likelihood, he will spend the rest of his days. But what might sound very alarming to the public – that the Chambers  County District Attorney’s Office has dismissed 10 sex cases – is not the full picture, is it? Do  you see how this would be a misrepresentation? 

Next, it was a plea deal. The punishment range for Continuous Sexual Abuse of a Young Child  is 25 years to life, so it was indeed a deal. If a jury were to have found him Guilty, that would  have been the minimum. But I want you to consider what I and my ADAs have to consider  every time we sit across from victims and their families: what we are asking them to do. We  are oftentimes asking victims to be the edge of the sword. While there are some procedural  rules that protect children, by and large, accusers have to face their abusers and tell  strangers the worst thing that’s ever happened to them, and then get cross-examined by  someone whose job is to try and tear holes in their story and make them look less credible.  It is, for many survivors of sexual trauma, as traumatic as the sexual assault itself. Some of  our victims simply cannot do it. This is why we make plea deals. But if you haven’t sat across  the table from someone saying, “Please don’t make my baby do this,” or a child crying saying,  “I don’t want to see him again,” then you may have righteous indignation at some of the deals  we end up making. If you haven’t held a sibling in the hall after a jury returned a not guilty  verdict because they believed it happened, but just not enough to convict, while that sibling  broke down and said “she’s going to kill herself now,” you might balk at some of our offers.  There are many times when it is a victim’s word against an abuser’s word, and many child  victims do not outcry immediately. Delayed outcries result in a lack of physical evidence,  meaning we have very little leverage during any plea discussions. Sometimes prison time is  the win. Sometimes probation is the win. Sometimes the child knowing that a group of  people believing them and being willing to fight for them is the win. 

The Code of Criminal Procedure mandates that I and my assistants seek Justice, and not  merely a conviction. I passionately believe that, and my numbers reflect that. The Wilkerson  case is an embodiment of that. I am not writing this to pat myself on the back, though I am  writing it to explain to my neighbors how the system works and certainly to pat my staff on  the back. These young men do not have to tell the world what happened to them in a very  public way. They can if they want to, of course. But they won’t be questioned about it. May  21, the win was that a monster will never hurt another little boy, and they don’t have to be  retraumatized about what happened to them.  

I’d like to extend my sincerest gratitude to Kathy Esquivel for her dedication to these cases.  She was the lead prosecutor on the Wilkerson case. Another big thank you to Investigators  Brad Crone and Nick Gonzalez, as well as Chambers County Sheriff’s Office Detective Sean  Perry for their work. And last but certainly not least, thank you to the brave survivors who came forward.