Heartland: Justice 4 Three

A powerful but sometimes unfocused documentary about three Fort Wayne teens gunned down in a racially motivated killing that was not classified as a hate crime.

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In 2021, three Fort Wayne friends — Anderson Retic Chinn, Joshua Cooper and Jaylin Rice, all age 19 — were gunned down at a gas station by a deranged man who had been spouting racial epithets at them. Only Rice survived, with serious gunshot injuries. Anderson died on the scene and Joshua, after repeatedly knocking on local doors begging for help, passed away at the hospital.

Despite this, the killer was never charged with a hate crime. That seeming miscarriage of justice is explored in “Justice 4 Three,” a new documentary from director Denise Blane.

The film is powerful, if sometimes unfocused. It mainly focuses on the plight of Anderson aka Andy, and his family and friends, who have been the driving force as victims’ advocates. They are understandably enraged, confused and despondent over the lengthy process to bring the murderer, Joseph Broussard, to justice.

Shirley Spinks, Andy’s grandmother, and his father, Renaldo “Sug” Chinn, who had been largely estranged from his son until the last few years, are the most powerful voices. They talk at length about what a beautiful young man Andy was, kind-hearted and compassionate. Already a father himself at a young age, his seemed a promising future cut viciously short. Other relatives, including a cousin and an aunt, underscore this portrait.

The documentary carefully lays out the timeline of the judicial process, from Broussard’s arrest to the various motions the family viewed as delaying tactics, including pleading mental incompetence, and the failure of prosecutors to add hate crimes to the charges. Broussard was eventually found guilty and sentenced to 180 years in prison.

Even as I felt swept up in the empathetic story of “Justice,” I recognized the many weaknesses that detract from the storytelling. What could have been an even more powerful indictment of an indifferent judicial system when the victims are Black is left somewhat muted by these deficiencies.

Let’s start with: why are the families of Joshua and Jaylin not included? Or better yet, as the only surviving eyewitness, why does Jaylin himself not bear witness? Hearing directly from him about the confrontation instigated by Broussard would lend a lot of emotional and informational credence.

Presumably they were approached and declined to participate. If so, the film should have related this. Similarly, the lack of any response from prosecutors or law enforcement leaves us with the impression they were not furnished with an opportunity to speak, or declined to.

What we are left with is a lot of rambling statements from Andy’s loved ones about not understanding the way courts work, some of which are factually challenged or left hanging with vague impressions like “I don’t know” or “I suppose.” For example, they repeatedly complain about it taking two years for Broussard’s trial — an entirely normal cadence for a capital case with claims of mental disorder.

At one point, the relatives complain about a number of officers entering the courtroom to ensure the peace, which they saw as insulting — except subsequent events would entirely justify that precaution, for everyone involved.

The inclusion of this sequences makes Andy’s family look bad, their justifiable anger detached from realistic expectations.

A few other people are interviewed, the most compelling being Reggie Blackmon, a local religious youth advisor who has helped the family process their feelings. A barber/activist and the leader of an African-American museum are less effective, their arguments not given enough time and space to register.

The death of Andy and Joshua, and the life-changing wounds to Jaylin, are a tragedy that should outrage every Hoosier. “Justice 4 Three” goes a long way to giving voice to their lives, even if it falls short as an investigatory piece.