I'm Samuel Alex Morris

In December 2017, I was arrested in Nebraska and charged with sexual assault of a minor. I hired an expensive attorney to defend me, but I was forced to plead no contest to a reduced charge—not because I was guilty, but because my family had been threatened. If the full truth came out at trial, people I cared about would be in danger. I faced an impossible choice: risk my family's safety or accept a conviction for something I didn't do.

What the public record doesn't show is this: I was there to illegally purchase pain medication. I had been struggling with chronic pain following multiple surgeries and had developed a dependency on opioids over many years. I made a terrible decision to buy drugs illegally. The person who set up the meeting was—in my attorney's own words to the prosecutor—"a pro at luring older men." He wasn't selling drugs; he wanted sex. I repeatedly refused his advances. What happened next is detailed in my full story, but I want to be clear: I did not engage in any sexual act with him, and I did not sexually assault him.

After I told one of my regular suppliers that I was done buying drugs because of my arrest, I received a threat via encrypted message. The drug network warned me that if anything about them came out at trial—if their operation was exposed—they would come after my family. They named my wife and children specifically. This wasn't an empty threat, and I couldn't tell anyone about it—not my attorney, not my family. I knew that if I told my lawyer, he would urge me to fight anyway. If I told my family, especially my daughter, they would push me to expose everything immediately, willing to accept whatever danger followed—a risk I couldn't take with their safety.

I made the decision to accept the revised charges against me. My attorney didn't advise me to do it—I told him that's what I wanted. I couldn't risk the mandatory 15-year minimum (plus additional time before becoming eligible for parole, totaling at least 19 years) if I was found guilty at trial. I couldn't allow my attorney to fight effectively because I couldn't tell him the truth about why I was at that person's residence—that I was there to purchase pain medications—for fear the threats against my family would be carried out. And I couldn't put my family in danger by exposing the drug network that had threatened them. I was sentenced to 8 to 16 years. I served 4 years and was granted the earliest possible parole because I was a model prisoner.

I accept full responsibility for trying to illegally purchase prescription pain medication. That was wrong, and I've paid dearly for that mistake. But I did not sexually assault anyone. I did not attempt to sexually assault anyone. I was trapped in an impossible situation where protecting my family meant accepting a conviction for a crime I didn't commit.

I'm a father of four and stepfather of two. I'm a disabled Gulf War veteran who spent 30 years as a network engineer, including nearly twenty years as a Systems Engineer with Union Pacific Railroad in Omaha, Nebraska. I raised my family in Logan, Iowa, where my children attended school and I was a well-liked, active member of the community with an impeccable reputation. Now I'm retired and back in Missouri, caring for my 82-year-old mother and planning to build a home near Boonville—the small town where I grew up before joining the military in 1985. The people who knew me then, and those who know me now, know what kind of person I am.

I'm currently required to register as a Tier III sex offender in Missouri—the highest classification, reserved for the worst offenders. This registry will follow me for the rest of my life unless I can change it. It's the most degrading, insulting experience I've ever endured. I completed my sentence. I completed parole on October 25, 2025. But the registry remains, a permanent brand that doesn't reflect the truth of what happened.

I know that every person convicted of a crime claims innocence. I'm asking you to look at the evidence: the psychiatric evaluation that determined I didn't need treatment; the fact I passed every polygraph and lie detector test they threw at me; the reduced charge that admitted no assault occurred (does it make sense that if someone sexually attacked a minor that the state would voluntarily allow that person to get away with it?); the lack of any victim impact statement; the absence of any objection to my parole; and, probably the most damning evidence that someone in the "system" knew something was wrong — the fact that I was required to attend substance abuse treatment... not sex offender treatment.

I made a terrible decision trying to buy pain medication illegally. But I did not commit the crime for which I was convicted.