TJ Semenas, a 13-year-old boy wrongly convicted of murder, was exonerated after 16 years in prison and awarded millions. Instead of using the money to rebuild his life, he embraced a violent, gang-driven lifestyle, adopting a "Batman" persona and launching a costly marketing campaign. He shot ex-gang member Earl Castile, leading to a $6.3 million lawsuit and public backlash. Despite financial ruin, TJ remains fixated on his fantasy of gang power and loyalty, even in prison, where he continues to create videos and manifestos that glorify his criminal identity. His actions have devastated his family, particularly his mother Vicki, who still loves him but has been cut off from him due to pride and trauma. The case raises critical questions about the justice system’s failures: how it wrongfully convicted a child, how it failed to rehabilitate him, and how society responded to his rise and fall. TJ’s story reflects deeper systemic issues—such as the lack of accountability, poor rehabilitation, and the danger of giving immense power to individuals without oversight. His current legal troubles, including charges of attempted murder and aggravated battery, signal a long road ahead. While the system offers him a financial settlement, it fails to provide healing or redemption. His journey underscores the tragic consequences of unchecked ambition, systemic flaws, and unresolved trauma, turning a personal failure into a broader critique of justice, legacy, and family.
What he did was, he threw his life away for a few minutes of gratification, fame, glory,
whatever.
I don't know.
I don't know what's going on in Mania.
We've arrived at the end.
We've told the story of Thaddeus Semenas, a 13-year-old boy arrested for murder exonerated
after 16 years in prison and awarded millions of dollars.
With that money, TJ could have done anything.
Instead, he built a gang, unleashed chaos, shot a guy in video, and ended up back in jail.
And the big question is, why?
Unfortunately, I can't ask TJ that question myself.
He won't talk to me.
But he has left us some clues.
The final episode, Mother's Day.
From W.B.E.Z. Chicago, I'm Frank May, and this is Motive.
Right in the middle of the gang war, TJ produced an elaborate video, which stands out from
the rest of his smartphone productions.
Like those other videos, this one shows TJ performing as a gang kingpin.
It's like a TJ commercial.
On his YouTube account, TJ calls a video quote, a brief bio.
It starts like this.
TJ aimed this video at rival Chicago gangs, and he begins his menacing advertisement
by the courtroom scene from someone else's trial.
A judge sentencing someone else to life in prison.
That's obviously a reference to TJ's own conviction promoter when he was a kid.
This thing is a production.
Across six and a half minutes, TJ uses different video effects, different color schemes, and
he mixes and clips from his other videos.
It's all set to the song "War Ready" by the rapper Rick Ross.
The video cuts to images of TJ loading a clip into a gun.
The video then cuts to a bank teller handing TJ an enormous stack of $20 bills.
TJ is then walking down the sidewalk, showing off the money to the camera.
The video cuts to TJ and his crew on the street, flashing royal signs.
This is TJ presenting his biography as he would like the world to see it.
He's rolling out the origin story for his alter ego.
Batman, that's what he called himself, and he never did that before.
TJ started calling himself Batman almost instantly after he became a millionaire.
His mother, Vicki.
I mean, his thing was he meant never like Spider-Man or Batman or Robin or I don't know where
that came from.
I keep thinking to myself that if a 13-year-old boy was given millions to live out his fantasy,
it might look something like this.
This guy got all that money, you know, and also I'm Batman, I'm Bruce Wayne.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Former Simon City Royals leader, Brian Nelson.
He wanted everybody to know.
He wanted that flamboyance.
He wanted to be recognized.
He wanted acceptance.
He wanted something.
He still wanted to play the games, and he wanted to be the big shot, driving the Zamburgini's
Baton Lees, and I think he tried to live from 13 to 30 all at one time.
TJ's Batman Ganglin marketing campaign cost a fortune.
All told, he went through more than $11 million in about two years.
TJ's brother-in-law, Donnie Ballard.
I feel especially towards the end, he was doing just dumb shit.
I feel he wanted to leave some type of legacy of his name.
Just like Al Capone and John Guide of Chicago, TJ and the Royals.
People familiar with TJ's bank accounts told me that the balance was near zero two months
before he shot Earl Castile in the legs.
That happened in August of 2015.
As we know, that was the moment that TJ's comic book Free For All came crashing down to
the soundtrack of Avey Maria.
Earl Castile is an ex-Simon City Royal with a reputation on the street.
He says he had no time for TJ's nonsense.
Maybe that's why TJ shot him.
Earl didn't respect Batman.
It's me, he was a nerd with a lot of money, you know, and he acted way cooler than he was.
If you think his motive was to just roll up on you and shoot you.
Really?
Jealousy?
I don't want nothing to do with the guy, you know, never did.
I care less about him.
But everybody else that would bump into him, they would try to cling to him and follow him
around and, you know, just do just about anything for him to try to get a little bit of his
money.
TJ was arrested within minutes of shooting Earl.
In Cook County Jail, TJ continued to envision himself as a gang kingpin.
He created another piece of marketing.
TJ wrote a letter.
The letter is six pages long, neatly handwritten, and block letters.
The title on the top of the first page refers to the Royal's gang color and one of the
gang symbols.
Here is the Blue Crown announcement.
You'll never know who's loyal until their loyalty is tested.
This time is no different.
Just because I'm back in jail, many of you seem to think our time is up.
The letter is kind of a manifesto for TJ's remaining crew members out on the streets and
it's revealing.
TJ seems obsessed with loyalty.
We are on top and nobody can deny that, but a lot of you don't deserve to share that
glory.
In my eyes, you were never really royals to begin with.
You never had love for me or the guys.
You never really were about this royal life.
Impostors.
That's all you ever were.
That's all you'll ever be.
TJ seems to be aware that some of the guys who flipped to his gang only did it because
of the money.
It also seems that despite being in jail, TJ is not giving up on his gang fantasy.
Get the government's efforts to keep me in here and stop the royal blue wave we created
across the city.
Our time is not up.
This is only the beginning.
If you love me and you're sincere about your dedication to our family, don't be distracted
by all the bullshit.
Remember everything I taught you.
Remember the bonds we built together.
We are the only real family out there.
No one else will ever be like us.
Nobody will ever do the things we did.
Remember that too.
We did the impossible and we did it together with one heart and mind.
I love all my loyal royals and will gladly give up my life and my freedom for you.
Royal love till the end.
TJ has been sitting in jail for four years since that blue crown announcement.
But not too long ago, I got some insight into what TJ is thinking right now.
I submitted a Freedom of Information Request to the Sheriff's Office and I got this.
Hello.
This is a prepaid collect call from. That he is, he men is.
An inmate at the Cook County Department of Corrections in Chicago, Illinois.
This is a recorded phone call between TJ and Jail and his current girlfriend.
You may start the conversation now.
Warren, baby.
On the call there is some talk about TJ supposedly writing a book.
His girlfriend said she sent him a 300 page paperback about Al Capone.
TJ is worried I might get lost in the mail system.
This is not a piece of TJ marketing himself.
In the phone call, TJ seems to be speaking honestly about a situation.
It's now almost a quarter century since TJ was arrested for murder when he was a kid.
But it's clear from the recording that that's still ways heavily on his mind.
They feel like I did the murder and I should have sent Jail, I should have stayed in jail.
This is how they look at it.
But the slake talk in the expensive ass, shyest ass lawyers, finagled my way out of here.
Got me out of here on Bullshit and the witness is every candidate was just crazy or scared
or whatever and they shouldn't recanted and I should have still been in jail for the
murder.
That's what they all think.
So that's why they treated me the way they treated me.
I thought you thought you got away but we got you as now.
That's how they look at it.
"They don't believe I'm innocent."
TJ sees himself as the ultimate victim.
He's still very bitter.
But then also in the recordings, we can hear TJ threatening violence.
TJ wants to be moved to a different part of Cook County jail, and he sees a way of making
that happen.
"I'm going to make them move me.
I'm going to rock one of these motherfuckers, it's supposed to be the most possible for
the right nation.
Plus they know it's open.
They won't come.
They won't give me out of here then.
There might be a CO when I'm saying catch one of these COs, they can't see those, but they
be fucking made up too, so it's like a back and forth thing."
TJ is saying he's going to attack a correctional officer to get moved.
Sheriff's investigators were listening into this call.
When they heard that threat, they punished TJ with three weeks in segregation.
On the disciplinary report, TJ explains himself by saying, "I was blowing off steam."
TJ grew up in the prison system and he understands how to get what he wants.
He sees himself as a gang kingpin, not to be messed with.
He's all about respect and loyalty.
He's concerned with his legacy.
Even now, he still feels victimized.
TJ's mom, Vicki, spent decades seeing her son as a victim.
Of course, there's no denying that TJ shot Earl Castile.
He did it.
I can't do nothing, all I can do is be there for him and love him.
All that's left for Vicki is to counter blessings, and once again, wait for TJ to come home.
That good family and he should be grateful for that, but I have good sisters, a lot of
good friends, and he's got two of the greatest kids in the world.
He does.
He really does.
After the break, the collateral damage.
Former Westside gang member, Reese, says he has a cousin who is killed by one of TJ's crew members.
Here he is, talking about all the young guys that flipped to the royals because of TJ.
"You got to stand like they called a lot of problems.
They called a lot of problems, man, from the top to the bottom, bottom to the top.
They won't never be forgiving for that.
Do you see guys with the royals tattoos or have they gone away?
They gone away.
They may slip in here now, but people tie the wars, man.
People tie the killing, man."
Since TJ's been put away, the royals' face tattoos have become a dangerous symbol.
"And everybody knows when you got that on your face, especially if you're a black kid
and you got that on your face, you know, say, everybody knows who you are.
Everybody knows.
You can't go nowhere.
What does it look like?"
"It's a big arm.
It's a big arm on your face.
I was just in the penitentiary when I was no longer real big on this face.
They could still have to move on about their life, man.
They still got to struggle.
They could keep sending them money from the penitentiary."
"Is he taking care of them now?
Take care of his kids feeding them?
No.
They can't go nowhere.
They've got to go live a totally different life.
Be somebody that they're not because of that, man."
Former Simon City Royals leader and ex-offender Brian Nelson.
"A lot of guys from different organizations had changed and put this stuff on their face.
What stuff?"
"A Simon City royal tattoo or a cross or something, and some of them even put their own
organization upside down.
If you're an organization and you change and you put that stuff on your face and you
come around us, we're going to take it off.
Well, from what I understand, two of them were cut off guys in the county jail, and they
were sent out to the streets, you know?"
"What was sent out?"
"The tattoo."
"What do you mean?"
"They cut it off these guys' face, and they sent the tattoo out to the streets to their
brothers."
Brian spent years in prison building up the Simon City Royals gang.
He says he built the alliances between the gangs to protect his brothers.
"Everything I did in a sense, he destroyed."
"No?"
During the two years, a teacher was unleashing chaos on the west side.
There were at least 19 shootings and four murders allegedly tied to his crew.
Families were ripped apart.
Brian believes TJ is responsible.
"I mean, I drive over to my Chicago Avenue.
I see how bad it is.
There's nothing, and you went in and made it worse.
You didn't kick it, a hurting horse.
You stomped on the horse when it was dead and just dried bones.
You drowned it into a ground."
"You know, why?
You unleashed hell in hell."
What he did to them people on the west side is just disgusting.
What he did to his mother and family is disgusting.
What he did to his so-called brothers is disgusting.
It's hard to quantify exactly how much damage TJ did to that west side neighborhood.
There isn't any direct evidence I know of that ties TJ himself to any particular shooting
there.
But TJ shot Earl Castile.
It's on video.
"The victim who was shot by today as a man has Earl Castile has sued him and as a cook
county court, awarding Castile, a $6.3 million award, but Castile's lawyer working
to determine if him and his has any assets left."
When Earl's lawyers looked at TJ's finances, they were unpleasantly surprised that there
was nothing there.
But they did find that TJ had signed over a house to his ex-girlfriend.
They're trying to get that asset for Earl.
"What do you think about these guys going after your house?"
"I think it's unfair because there's got nothing to do with what happened with daddy
is."
This is Abby Betbaboo, the owner of the house.
His TJ's ex-girlfriend and mother of his two children.
I spoke to her for a couple of minutes outside of a court hearing for Earl's lawsuit.
It's not a great recording.
But if you're looking for collateral damage, here it is.
"I'm a single mom and this house is for the kids and me when I need to live somewhere.
You know, it's hard to live right now there is."
"Do you feel like you've been kind of trapped in this nightmare with relationship with
TJ over the years?"
"It's been a nightmare for past four years.
It was good effort as it was perfect, but then once the money came, everything changed.
And then after he shot Earl, it's been worse.
He gave us the house because he didn't want me to be homeless.
He gave me the house for the kids.
Now they're trying to take the house.
This is his child's support because you don't pay child support either."
"But you don't even see him that is in the jail?"
"No, he's been locked up.
Never want to see him."
"The reason is."
"Because I don't want my kids in there, I don't want them to know it's okay for them
to go there."
"You still love him?"
"Of course I love him.
He's like his father, but I would never get back with him ever and so."
TJ's kids, man-man and star as Vicki calls him, are with Abby.
They're really cute.
These kids are trying to punch each other.
"I love that always punching each other."
No castile.
"You know, I understand that she has children.
I'm not trying to disrespect her.
I'm not trying to disrespect her children or anything like that.
But at the same time, you got to understand I have a wife and seven children that I have
to take care of.
You know, him being sued, he's trying to hide things and stuff like that.
We're going to dig it up and we're going to take what we're going to take.
Get a chance to break his pockets.
Why not?
You know?
Let me, hey."
It's not just the individuals around TJ who have been damaged.
Does TJ's story somehow hurt the stories of other wrongful convictions?
Yes.
The attorney who got TJ his $25 million award, John Lovie.
There's a dynamic right now where wrongful convictions are being overturned more than
in the past.
The system should be able to apologize.
There should be more restorative justice, there should be more acknowledgment.
But there are people who are very vested in the premise that the system never makes mistakes,
that if you're convicted, you're guilty.
Lovie says that TJ has given those critics ammunition.
When TJ screwed up the way he screwed up, he didn't do any favors to his brothers and
sisters who are in prison fighting to prove that they should be given a second chance
because they didn't do anything wrong.
Who's responsible?
TJ primarily is responsible.
We are all responsible for our own choices and TJ made bad choices.
If we're looking to cast blame, there's enough blame to go around.
This is a system that put him in prison at age 13.
13.
You go into criminal justice system at age 22.
You already got values.
You already got a foundation.
You are a person.
You've been through life experiences.
You're going to go through a lot of hell.
But that hell is going to interact with who you are.
If you're 13, there's no foundation.
So he became the system.
TJ is priest when he was in juvenile detention.
Father Dave Kelly.
Main lesson of TJ Stories is there's a lot of culpability that we own.
We participated in doing this young pan serious, serious damage as a society.
And then we give him $25 million, we expect him to, everything's going to be good.
He's going to use that money to build up the community.
I mean, how silly can we be?
I don't want to use the time they created a monster and look what you have.
But think about the situation.
You take a 13-year-old child and you put them in maximum security for over 16 years.
And just let them back on the society and say, "Here you go.
You'll be okay out there, buddy.
We're done with you.
Now we're sorry.
Still a bunch of money is some money."
Steve Greenberg is TJ's current criminal defense attorney.
Greenberg's worked with people who spent decades in prison.
Everyone says, "Oh great, you got out.
Congratulations."
But there's no one to really feel that void.
No one to bring them up to speed.
I think we have an obligation to these people to do better and to help.
So here's TJ's current legal situation.
In 2017, a federal judge sentenced him to more than nine years in prison
for a legal possession of the gun he used to shoot Earl.
While he serves that sentence,
TJ's awaiting trial and state court on charges of attempted murder
and aggravated battery for that same shooting.
TJ faces six to 30 years in prison on those charges.
The best scenario for TJ is that he gets out in about five years from now.
But it could be decades longer than that.
TJ's criminal defense lawyer, Steve Greenberg.
The problem that he has and the struggle when I talk to him is
I don't think he knows what else he would do.
Or where else he would go.
I don't know if you've talked to people who have been
incarcerated for so much of their life.
They're almost soulless at this point.
You talk to them and their land and they don't show any emotion.
They're very contemplative, but it's always pessimistic.
There's nothing to be optimistic about.
When he gets out of jail, he figures he's still going to have a target on his back
from other gangs, whether he's in the gang life or out of the gang life.
He has a very bleak outlook on his past and his future.
When TJ was incarcerated four years ago,
you remember he wrote a manifesto to his gang called the Blue Crown Announcement.
There's a part of that letter written in jail,
in which TJ's words really ring true to me.
It's this.
If any of you know anything about me at all,
you should know this is where I came from.
This is where I was created.
This is my home, my house,
my world, no matter where they put me, any jail, any prison.
I will always be at home.
Charmaine Hanson, or as TJ calls her, and Char.
But the sad part is when he went to jail and he said, I'm home.
I literally cried.
I went in my room and cried so hard because that's sad.
It's like, oh my god.
He had it all, and did he want to go back to prison?
I'm sorry.
But he just made some really bad and stupid decisions.
He had the world in his hands.
But he, a man chooses his own destiny.
And I guess this is where he wanted to be.
It's sad.
TJ's relationship with his family has broken down.
Because of a messy family squabble, he refuses to talk to his mom, Vicki.
I can tell that she still really loves her son.
But she admits that while TJ was growing up, she drank too much and she'd hit him.
As a kid, TJ once tried to defend Vicki
by throwing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at his dad,
when his dad was trying to beat her.
When TJ was exonerated and released from prison back in 2009,
TJ said, quote, my mom fought to survive so that she could be here when I was released.
Now TJ won't put his mom on his visitor list in the jail.
I know he loves me.
There is no doubt.
I know he loves me.
We've been through too much.
We're homeless.
That little prick.
I'd be sleeping in a hallway or a porch.
And it's not like I couldn't go by my mom or my brother or my sister.
I just had too much pride.
That little prick
would be right there with me.
I don't know what I'm going to do.
I know I'll be gone before we come home.
I just want to see him.
Right now, TJ is spending his days and nights in a cell.
And this time, he knows that his choices let him to where he is.
And now he's sitting there looking at it.
He's looking in the mirror.
Brian Nelson spent almost three harrowing decades in prison.
He's been where TJ is.
He's finally looking at herself.
How does he waste it?
He still has a chance to look.
Look what his mom went through.
You know, TJ won't put his mom on the visitorialist factory yesterday.
I said, Vicki, I said, you know, Sunday is Mother's Day.
Why don't you go up there on the visitation and see TJ?
Maybe he'll talk to you, and she's like, he'll turn away and walk away.
I said, maybe he won't.
Maybe he won't.
If he does that, he's not worth talking to him.
Yeah, don't ask your mother.
It had been almost five years since Vicki last saw her son, TJ.
On an early Sunday morning, she went to the Cook County Jail.
TJ didn't know she was coming.
But Vicki was hoping that TJ would come out to the visitor's room to talk to her.
Hey, you're nervous, sis.
His health took two platypins before he. Hopefully, if he comes and he does sit down and he tells me, what do you want?
I'm going to say, I want to give myself my own Mother's Day and see my son.
And if he turns around and walks away and tells the guard to take him back,
I don't know what to expect, really.
Just praying for the best that he'll at least talk with me.
Oh, let's see what's going to happen.
There's a jail on the southwest side of Chicago.
The Cook County Jail is a small city of buildings surrounded by razor wire.
On one corner of the complex is Division 9.
The big maximum security facility where TJ is now locked up.
The first thing you notice are the wide-screened galleries facing the street.
You can stand on the sidewalk and watch the inmates pacing,
looking out of their chain-linked pens, as life goes on without them.
We imagine that they all want to be out here sharing their lives with us.
But when jail is all you've ever really known,
it might also be the closest thing to home.
So, first I was kind of scared, you know what?
You turn around with them, then he says, "What are you doing here?"
I go, "I'm coming to my son. I love him."
He goes, "I love you too." He goes, "I never doubt your love, mom. I never do.
I know you will always love me."
And then I put my hand on a glass and you went, "Haven't Earth."
We always said that since she's a baby.
He said, "I will always love you too forever."
Because you're my mom.
[Music]
[Music]
If you like the podcast, please leave us a rating or review an Apple podcast, so wherever
you find these things, it helps other people find the show.
Motives of production of WBZ Chicago based on original reporting from the Chicago Sun
Times.
I'm Frank Mayn.
The producer is Colin McNulty, the executive producer is Kevin Dawson.
Our engineer is Shelley Stephens.
Lots of people were generous with their time in supporting us making this show, so really
special thanks to Steve Edwards, Chris Fusco, Alexander Solomon, Shannon Heffernin, Patrick
Smith, Rob Will DeBour, Al Keefe, Kerry Shepard, Alden Lowry, Odette Yusef, Kate Kahan, Michael
Lansu, Betsy Burger, Vince Chavez, Lizzie Schiffman-Tufano, Allison Martin, Paul Saltsman, Steve
Warrenburg, B.A. Media, Brendan Bannazak, and the listeners whose financial support of WBZ
made this podcast possible.
ordinary scientist Richard Dawkins joins WBZ and Chicago Booth Professor Nicholas Eppley
to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the selfless gene, October 18th at the Chicago Symphony
Center.
Learn more at WBZ.org/events.
Podcast Summary
Key Points:
TJ, after being exonerated and awarded millions, built a gang and engaged in violent behavior, including shooting Earl Castile, despite having no prior criminal record.
He created a elaborate "Batman" persona and a marketing campaign costing over $11 million, showcasing a deep fixation on image, power, and loyalty.
TJ’s video and manifesto reveal a belief in his own infallibility and a desire to maintain control, even in prison, portraying himself as a gang kingpin and victim of a corrupt system.
The attack on Earl Castile, which led to a $6.3 million lawsuit, coincided with TJ’s financial collapse, suggesting financial desperation as a possible motive.
TJ’s family, especially his mother Vicki, has suffered emotionally and materially, with strained relationships and a legacy of betrayal and trauma.
The broader societal impact includes a loss of trust in the justice system and a moral dilemma over how to support wrongful convictions without enabling further harm.
TJ remains in prison, facing additional charges and a bleak future, while expressing no remorse and viewing incarceration as a form of home and identity.
The story highlights systemic failures in rehabilitation, legacy, and accountability—showing how a single mistake can spiral into long-term harm for individuals and communities.
Summary:
TJ Semenas, a 13-year-old boy wrongly convicted of murder, was exonerated after 16 years in prison and awarded millions. Instead of using the money to rebuild his life, he embraced a violent, gang-driven lifestyle, adopting a "Batman" persona and launching a costly marketing campaign. 3 million lawsuit and public backlash.
Despite financial ruin, TJ remains fixated on his fantasy of gang power and loyalty, even in prison, where he continues to create videos and manifestos that glorify his criminal identity. His actions have devastated his family, particularly his mother Vicki, who still loves him but has been cut off from him due to pride and trauma. The case raises critical questions about the justice system’s failures: how it wrongfully convicted a child, how it failed to rehabilitate him, and how society responded to his rise and fall.
TJ’s story reflects deeper systemic issues—such as the lack of accountability, poor rehabilitation, and the danger of giving immense power to individuals without oversight. His current legal troubles, including charges of attempted murder and aggravated battery, signal a long road ahead. While the system offers him a financial settlement, it fails to provide healing or redemption.
His journey underscores the tragic consequences of unchecked ambition, systemic flaws, and unresolved trauma, turning a personal failure into a broader critique of justice, legacy, and family.
FAQs
TJ was motivated by a desire for recognition, acceptance, and legacy, believing he could live out his fantasy of being a powerful gang leader. His transformation into 'Batman' and the creation of the Royal Gang were driven by a need to be seen as a powerful figure, especially after being given millions in compensation for a wrongful conviction.
TJ's Batman persona symbolizes his attempt to create a powerful, mythic identity after being released from prison. It reflects his longing to be seen as a heroic, feared figure, much like Bruce Wayne, despite having no real background or experience in such a role.
Earl Castile, a former gang member, reportedly disrespected TJ's new gang image and lifestyle. TJ may have felt betrayed or threatened by Earl’s refusal to accept his 'Batman' persona, leading to the shooting as a reaction to perceived disrespect and jealousy.
Instead of investing in his community, TJ used the money to build a gang, leading to violence, chaos, and significant collateral damage. His actions demonstrate a failure to responsibly use the compensation he received for a wrongful conviction.
The letter shows TJ's deep obsession with loyalty, identity, and control. He views his gang as a true family, rejecting those who joined for money, and insists on loyalty as the core of his identity—even while in jail.
TJ has distanced himself from his mother, refusing to allow her visits despite expressing love for her. This reflects emotional strain and unresolved trauma, as well as a sense of pride and guilt stemming from his criminal actions.
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