The Midnight Rider Verdict: What the Criminal Convictions After Sarah Jones’s Death Actually Changed on Film Sets

On August 14, 2014, the U.S. Department of Labor’s Occupational Safety and Health Administration issued a citation to Film Allman LLC for one willful and one serious safety violation. The proposed penalties totaled $74,900. The willful item was for exposing employees to moving trains on an active CSX trestle in Jesup, Georgia. The serious item was for fall hazards on a trestle without guardrails. The citation is a public document. It is also the least dramatic artifact in the case, which is why it tends to get skipped in favor of the courtroom.

Nearly three years later, on March 20, 2017, the Eleventh Circuit affirmed the Occupational Safety and Health Review Commission’s finding that Film Allman willfully violated § 5(a)(1) of the Occupational Safety and Health Act — the general duty clause — and that the $70,000 statutory maximum penalty was appropriate. The opinion is five pages. It is not unpublished because the facts were thin. It is unpublished because the court was applying settled deference to an administrative record.

Then, in 2025, TheWrap reported that director Randall Miller’s involuntary manslaughter conviction had been cleared under the Georgia First Offender Act after he completed ten years of probation. The headline word was “exoneration.” The underlying appellate findings were not reversed. They were not touched. Those are three different documents describing three different kinds of accountability, and the gap between them is where the real story about this case lives.

What the record actually established

The Eleventh Circuit’s summary of the Commission’s findings is unusually blunt. Film Allman, the court wrote, “knew the railroad tracks were live tracks, in active use by CSX, and that CSX had refused permission to film on the tracks.” The court also recorded that “none of Film Allman’s supervisors informed the crew and cast members that CSX would not be on site and would not be controlling train traffic while they were filming on the tracks.”

OSHA’s release put the same point in regulatory language: the employer’s “failure to develop a safety plan to prevent such hazards, including obtaining permission from the rail owner to use the tracks for filming, led to the death of one crew member and injuries to eight other employees.” Sarah Jones, a 27-year-old camera assistant, was killed when a CSX freight train struck a hospital bed being used as a set piece. Eight other workers were injured trying to escape.

The most concrete decision point in the record is not the plea. It is a call-sheet question. According to OSHA’s investigation as reported by Deadline, on the evening before the accident a production official asked unit production manager Jay Sedrish whether to attach a railroad-safety bulletin from the AMPTP Industry-Wide Labor-Management Safety Committee to the call sheet. Sedrish said no — “a resounding ‘No, No, No,'” in the account given to investigators. The bulletin was not attached. The crew was loaded onto the trestle without it.

That is the kind of detail a forensics-minded reader should hold onto. It is specific, it is documented, and it is a decision made by a named person about a named document on a named date. It is also the detail that most coverage of “the verdict” omits in favor of the sentencing.

The criminal track and the regulatory track are not the same track

The criminal case ran through Wayne County, Georgia, not through federal OSHA. The two proceedings had different standards, different defendants, and different consequences. Conflating them is the most common error in commentary about this case.

On the criminal side, Randall Miller pleaded guilty in March 2015 to criminal trespass and involuntary manslaughter. He was sentenced to ten years — two in jail, eight on probation — with a $20,000 fine and 360 hours of community service. Under the plea terms he agreed not to serve as director, assistant director, or supervisor in charge of safety on any film production for ten years. Charges against his wife and producer, Jody Savin, were dismissed as part of the agreement; Miller’s attorney, Ed Garland, said plainly that the plea was tied to the dismissal of charges against her.

Jay Sedrish, the executive producer and unit production manager, received ten years’ probation and a $10,000 fine. He was barred from directing or overseeing safety but permitted to work as a unit production manager — a distinction that drew immediate criticism from production professionals, and which the sentencing record does not explain.

Hillary Schwartz, the first assistant director, was convicted at a bench trial of involuntary manslaughter and criminal trespass and sentenced to ten years’ probation and a $5,000 fine, as The New York Times reported at the time.

On the regulatory side, the OSHA case produced a willful general-duty citation and a $70,000 penalty — the statutory maximum at the time. The Eleventh Circuit affirmed it in 2017. The two tracks never merged. The criminal convictions did not depend on the OSHA finding, and the OSHA finding did not depend on the plea.

Why a general-duty case is a poor vehicle for “industry change”

Section 5(a)(1) is a catch-all. It requires employers to furnish a workplace “free from recognized hazards that are causing or are likely to cause death or serious physical harm.” It does not name a specific standard for filming on railroad tracks, because no such standard exists. That is the structural fact that makes this case a poor precedent for industry-wide rulemaking and a good precedent for fact-specific enforcement.

A willful general-duty citation turns on what the employer knew and what it did with that knowledge. Here the record was unusually clean: CSX had refused permission in writing. A location manager had sought that permission and been turned down. Supervisors knew. The crew did not. The citation followed from those facts, not from a new rule.

This matters for anyone tempted to say the convictions “changed film sets.” They did not change the standards. They applied an existing catch-all to a set of facts that were, in the Commission’s word, willful. The penalty was the maximum available, which is a statement about the facts, not about the law’s reach.

What actually changed, and what the record does not show

Here the honest answer requires separating what is documented from what is asserted.

Documented: The convictions, the sentences, the OSHA citation, the appellate affirmance, and the later expungement. The Sarah Jones family’s nonprofit, Safety for Sarah, was founded after her death and advocates for safer working conditions. TheWrap reports that Miller’s later film, Supercrip, will have a safety supervisor on set under a California pilot program created in reaction to the 2021 fatal shooting of cinematographer Halyna Hutchins on Rust — not in reaction to Jones’s death.

Not documented in the retrieved record: Any specific industry-wide safety rule, statute, union contract provision, or insurer underwriting standard that was adopted because of the Midnight Rider convictions. The AMPTP bulletin that was withheld from the call sheet existed before the accident. Whether it was revised afterward, and whether railroad-scene protocols changed at IATSE, SAG-AFTRA, or the studios, is a question the public record here does not answer. The Bureau of Labor Statistics data available is national and general; it does not break out film-production fatalities in a way that would let anyone measure a post-2014 effect.

That gap is itself the story. “The verdict changed everything” is a narrative that gets built by assertion, not by citation. If the claim were true, the evidence would be nameable: a revised safety bulletin, a permit-verification clause in a union agreement, a state statute, an insurer’s condition precedent. None of those appear in the record retrieved for this piece. A reader should treat that absence as informative rather than as proof of no change — but the burden is on the claim, not on the skeptic.

The expungement and the word “exoneration”

The Georgia First Offender Act allows certain first-time offenders to have their records cleared after completing sentence. It is a disposition, not a finding of innocence. When TheWrap reported that Miller’s conviction had been cleared, the story quoted him saying, “With this exoneration my record has been cleared.” The word “exoneration” is doing work there that the legal record does not support. The Eleventh Circuit’s affirmance of the willful violation stands. The Commission’s findings stand. The First Offender Act did not revisit them.

This is not a technicality. It is the exact mechanism by which entertainment-media narratives about legal outcomes drift from the documents. A record cleared under a first-offender statute is a different thing from a conviction reversed on appeal, and the two get collapsed in coverage because “cleared” and “exonerated” read as synonyms to a reader who has not seen the order. The order itself — the operative language — is the document to check, and it is the document the coverage tends to paraphrase rather than quote.

What a reader should take from the paper trail

The Midnight Rider case produced a documented record of what one production did and what penalties followed. It did not produce a rule that governs the next production. The enforcement was a general-duty citation, fact-specific by design, capped at a statutory maximum that is small relative to the cost of a film. The criminal case ran on a separate track with separate standards and produced sentences that were, in the judge’s own words at Miller’s sentencing, an attempt to “send a message of safety to the industry” — a message, not a mandate.

If the convictions changed anything durable, the evidence would be in the documents that govern the next set: the safety bulletin, the union agreement, the permit checklist, the insurance binder. Those documents are checkable. Until they are checked, the claim that the verdict changed film sets is a claim about a narrative, not about a set. The narrative is worth studying. It is not the same thing as the rule.

FAQ

Was Randall Miller exonerated? No. His conviction was cleared under the Georgia First Offender Act after he completed probation. That is a record disposition, not a reversal. The Eleventh Circuit’s 2017 affirmance of the willful OSHA violation was not disturbed.

What was the OSHA penalty, and why was it $70,000? OSHA initially proposed $74,900 across two citations. The willful general-duty citation carried a statutory maximum penalty of $70,000 at the time, which the administrative law judge imposed and the Eleventh Circuit affirmed.

Did the case create a new safety standard for film sets? The record retrieved here does not show that. The citation was under the general duty clause, which is fact-specific. Any claim of an industry-wide rule change would need to point to a specific revised bulletin, contract clause, statute, or insurer condition.

What happened to the other defendants? Jay Sedrish received ten years’ probation and a $10,000 fine, and was barred from directing or overseeing safety but allowed to work as a unit production manager. Hillary Schwartz was convicted of involuntary manslaughter and criminal trespass and sentenced to ten years’ probation and a $5,000 fine. Charges against Jody Savin were dismissed as part of Miller’s plea agreement.

What was the call-sheet decision? According to OSHA’s investigation as reported by Deadline, a production official asked whether to attach an AMPTP railroad-safety bulletin to the call sheet the night before the accident. Sedrish said no. The bulletin was not attached.