In 1998, at the age of 19, Miguel Solorio was arrested for the murder of an elderly woman who was shot during a gang-related drive-by in Whittier, California. In a case plagued by flawed eyewitness identifications and police perjury, he was convicted of murder and assault and sentenced to life without parole two years later.
Over the next two decades, Solorio fought the wrongful conviction: He filed (unsuccessful) appeals. He built a relationship with a state public defender, who would eventually represent him pro bono. He worked with multiple innocence projects in the state. And Solorio’s wife, Silvia, did her part, working with his family and legal team, and even obtaining a statement from a woman who might have pointed police to another suspect.
In July 2023, with new evidence in hand, lawyers from the Northern California Innocence Project filed the state writ of habeas corpus that would set Solorio free. He walked out of Mule Creek State Prison that November, at age 44.
In this first installment of our new series, “Love Beyond Bars,” Miguel describes the visit with Silvia that almost made him forget he was in prison.
Silvia and I started dating nine months before my arrest, but my love was genuine from the gate. With her, I felt an instant connection. The words “I love you” just came out naturally.
We got married at Calipatria State Prison back in 2004, surrounded by friends and family. She drove to the prison to see me every weekend, but it wasn’t until 2019 that we had our first family visit, at Mule Creek State Prison. On family visits, you stay in a little miniature apartment from Friday to Monday. You can almost forget that you’re in prison.
For the first time, we got to act like a normal married couple. We were able to cook for each other, with food from an outside grocery store. There were fresh vegetables, like tomatoes and bell peppers, but I ate so many chicken nuggets I made myself sick. Silvia told me to slow down, but I didn’t listen. She couldn’t really blame me.
We got to watch movies together, dance together. They had a little radio, and we listened to oldies, blues and rap music. I remember one song’s lyrics, “I’ll testify for you.”
Now that I’ve been exonerated, every day is like that. Because of Silvia, I know that life is precious, and I don’t take it for granted.
Silvia wrote a note to Miguel while he was in prison on the back of a photograph of the ocean.
![Handwritten vows on a piece of notebook paper read: "Silvia, since the first day I met you in 98, my life has changed completely. Day after day, night after night, I dr[e]am about you, I just had to discover what my dream meant, I just had to discover what my eyes has seen, the beauty of your face and the softness of your voice woke my lonel[i]ness heart every time I would spend quality time with you, it showed me what true happiness is about..."](https://d1n0c1ufntxbvh.cloudfront.net/photo/145a9e38/95120/1140x/)
Camille Farrah Lenain is a French-Algerian documentary photographer who grew up in Paris. She relocated to New Orleans in 2013. Her photographs have been exhibited internationally, including at the Ogden Museum of Southern Art, the Arab World Institute, Photoville and Les Rencontres d’Arles.
Carla Canning is an engagement journalist and contract editor at Prison Journalism Project. She previously worked on Life Inside as The Marshall Project’s Tow audience engagement fellow. At the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism, she created a website guide for people visiting loved ones incarcerated in New York State prisons.
