Two prison inmates were standing a few feet away from her, but this was the happiest day of her life.

There weren't any bouquets of extravagant flower arrangements and no invitations were sent out beforehand.

She didn't wear a white dress, and only 10 people - monitored by a guard who peered through the window of a nearby door - were allowed as witnesses in the tiny chapel.

When Denise Kensu exchanged vows with her husband, she knew they wouldn't be rushing to Hawaii for a romantic honeymoon getaway.

She knew her husband wouldn't go home with her after their 30-minute wedding ceremony. Instead, he would sleep in a cell nearly 30 miles away from where she lived. Denise Kensu said she also knew she would only be able to see and spend a minimum amount of time with him throughout the week.

But she didn't change her mind about getting married to a convicted felon. They have been married since Jan. 5, 2000, and Denise Kensu said she married her husband for the same reason most people marry.

"I was in love with him," Denise Kensu said. "I was ready to take that step."

Now, four years after the wedding, Kensu makes it her goal to tell people she thinks her husband is innocent of a murder committed almost 20 years ago. But she's not alone in her campaign.

The Case

In 1987, Denise Kensu's husband, who now goes by his Buddhist name Temujin Kensu, was convicted of murder at 23 years old and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

According to a report by the Detroit Free Press, the night in question occurred in November of 1986 at Port Huron's St. Clair Community College.

Scott Macklem, the son of the mayor from a nearby city, was on his way to morning classes. As he stepped out of his car, he was shot once in his side. His cry for help was heard by one of his schoolmates but ignored because she thought it was a joke, according to reports by the Detroit Free Press.

It wasn't a joke. And for nearly two decades, Denise Kensu's husband has been behind bars for the death of the 20-year-old. After a week-long search for a suspect, authorities pinpointed Temujin Kensu as the main suspect.

Despite numerous witnesses who placed him at least 500 miles away on the day of the murder, Temujin Kensu, who'd been previously involved with Macklem's fiancee, was indicted and tried for Macklem's killing.

John Ange, a prosecuting attorney in St. Clair County, said he wasn't involved in the initial case, but is convinced that Temujin Kensu was guilty. And Macklem's father, Gary Macklem, said he also is convinced.

Denise Kensu said her husband's trial lasted 29 days and he is now stationed at the Cotton Correctional Facility in Jackson.

True Love

Sitting with her legs propped on a coffee table in her living room in Swartz Creek, Denise Kensu laughed as she reminisced about how she and her husband became acquainted. When they first met she was married with children and he had a girlfriend, she said.

"I worked for Arby's and one of his best buddies was there," she said. "He would come up there and skateboard around in the parking lot."

Denise Kensu said because she didn't have her own car she was forced to wait for someone to pick her up. But she said the time spent waiting for a ride seemed like no time at all because she and Temujin Kensu would talk about everything. Although they both were in committed relationships when introduced, Denise Kensu said it didn't stop them from carrying on a conversation.

While in prison, Denise Kensu said her husband got her name from a pen-pal list. She added that she had no interest in getting a pen pal, but a friend of hers managed to change her mind. Little did she know it would reunite her with Temujin Kensu and lead to their marriage. They began writing each other until they were finally ready to meet again.

"We just could not stop talking," she said while eyeing a Polaroid picture from that day in May of 1991. "It was almost as if we could finish sentences for each other. We just smiled and laughed so much that the next day my cheeks ached."

Denise Kensu said when her husband first wrote her, he told her he was innocent and she said, "Yeah right."

"It was kind of funny at first, because I was a person who believed in the death penalty," the Detroit native said. "If you were tried and convicted, that was it, you were guilty."

When writing him back, she told him she didn't feel sorry for him. But after reading his transcripts and educating herself on his case, she changed her mind.

"At the end of that visit, I told him I would never leave him in that place and I would do whatever I could to get him out," she said.

"I would never leave him alone."

Denise Kensu is now 46 years old and sticking to her word. She works late shifts so she can spend her days working with a team of lawyers, filmmakers and investigators on her husband's case.

"I went on third shift because when he moves it's much easier to rearrange my whole life with every move," Denise Kensu said.

She added that since her husband has been incarcerated, he has relocated to 25 different prison facilities.

"There have been times when I'd drive eight hours to only be able to visit him for four."

Denise Kensu's experience has led her to join a support group of wives called Prison Talk.

She said that when her friends talk about how much they miss their husbands who are away for a weekend, she can't help but laugh because she only gets to see her husband seven times a month due to prison regulations.

But being without him doesn't stop her from living her life. Denise Kensu said she hopes the stacks of documents from his case that overflow from her dining room table and spill onto the floor won't be the only reminder of her husband. She said one day she hopes she can burn the documents that are kept in manila folders and gray file cabinet, and his name will be cleared.

She added that she doesn't only find her strength from support groups, but from her husband himself.

"In a lot of ways, he is my strength," she said. "I watch the things that he goes through. If he can get through it, I can."

"I don't have it as bad as he does."

Clearing his name

Eighteen years after Temujin Kensu's incarceration, others are working to see that he walks free one day. On Oct. 1, Jonathan Maire, a lawyer in the appellate courts, said he submitted a motion to the St. Clair County Courthouse asking for a new trial to prove Temujin Kensu's innocence.

Circuit Court Judge James Adair is expected to review the case on Dec. 13, Maire said.

Ange from the St. Clair Prosecuting Attorney's Office, wouldn't comment on the validity of Temujin Kensu's prosecution, but said his office is following the appeal's process.

"We are going to follow the brief in a timely manner," he said.

Maire said he has followed the case for nearly a decade. He added that the ruling has made him disgruntled and upset.

"I've been very frustrated when reviewing what happened in the trial," he said. "This should have not happened. Things were done inappropriately by the prosecution."

Maire said several years ago, Temujin Kensu received an anonymous letter with the name and location of someone who admitted to killing the mayor's son.

With the planned hearing a little more than a month away, Maire said he will remain optimistic.

"I'm hoping the judge will grant the new trial based upon the motion and brief I filed."

Temujin Kensu's case has garnered attention from those outside of the law community.

Filmmaker Joe Viola, who has written for the NBC drama "Law & Order," said he felt compelled to help because he has been writing fictional stories similar to Temujin Kensu's case. Viola and another filmmaker are making a documentary to air on HBO.

"I've been writing law material for 20 years, and I just didn't believe it was possible this day in age that this much of a lynching could take place," Viola said during a cell phone call from Los Angeles.

On Oct. 18, Viola and the other filmmaker held a three-hour seminar called "Wrongful Conviction" at the Clara Bell Smith Student-Athlete Academic Center. This segment will be featured in the documentary chronicling Temujin Kensu's case.

Gary Macklem, the victim's father, said he had two representatives on his behalf at the seminar and he doesn't agree with the information given to those in attendance.

"Everything they told you kids were a bunch of lies," the former mayor said. "Evidentially, they didn't read the trial. That's what's upsetting us."

Before hanging up the phone, Macklem said "Did (those heading the seminar) mention (prosecutors) had an eyewitness who saw my son shot?"

He would not comment further.

In the meantime, Viola said he hopes to accomplish at least two things with this documentary: Raise awareness about this case and have Temujin Kensu get his life back.

Even though Denise Kensu said she does not live in a cell or have a criminal record, she said she often feels otherwise.

Outside the prison walls Denise Kensu said people develop stereotypes about her and her background because she is married to an inmate.

"You're looked down on," she said. "People tend to look at inmate families like they are criminals also and that we are beneath them."

Denise Kensu said she looks forward to the day when her husband's name is cleared.

"I want my husband of out prison," she said. "I want to be alone, take the phone off the hook and just have some peace and quiet."