A great deal of press attention was focused this week on Lindsay Lohan. She is again in legal trouble, this time for the alleged theft of a $2500 necklace. If convicted of grand larceny, she will also face probation revocation on her earlier conviction. The prosecutor wants her to be sentenced to three years in prison.
Much of the attention this week on Lindsay and the other “out of control” celebrity – Charlie Sheen, focused on their repeated run-ins with trouble. “They just don’t learn.”
I have a high level of sympathy for Lindsay Lohan and Charlie Sheen. I see a whole lot of men in here who have behaved just like them. Frankly, I behaved just like them. It maybe difficult to understand if you have never been through it, but we all hit our breaking point at different times. We all try and kid ourselves things have hit bottom. Truth is we aren’t completely broken yet.
I see young guys in here on their third eighteen month “bid”. I don’t get it. I just don’t see why anyone would risk coming back in here. “What is the matter with you?” I want to scream at these guys who have been out then choose to “come back in”.
Then, I think about myself. I had, by all appearances, a perfect life. Why would I risk all that for money? I didn’t need the money; I didn’t need the guilt I lived with every day; I didn’t need the consequences. They clearly outweighed the risks.
People, in general, look at the Lindsays, the Charlies, the Mike Vick’s, and ask “what are they thinking? They have everything.” None of us, however, know the demons they live with. Perhaps, we should be more empathetic, more sympathetic. Perhaps, we should be thankful we don’t have the same demons.
Demons. There are such things. I had my own share. What else could explain knowing what you’re doing is wrong, knowing what you’re doing will, upon discovery, destroy everything you hold dear, and still act in such a reckless manner?
I looked at the news and saw the film of Ms. Lohan in court this week. She is incredibly beautiful. Yet, there was a sadness, a fear, a brokenness in her eyes. She was trying to comprehend exactly what was happening to her. I know the look. I had that look. I hate that look.
Two friends in here told me I was taking too much on. “You’ve got to learn to say ‘no’, slow up, do for you.” I can’t. I throw myself into the students and the law. Some of my reasoning is self-serving. The busier I am the less likely I am to dwell on all I gave up. But the other reason is I want to give these guys a chance, a chance to lose that look.
Brokenness is a terrible, horrible moment in your life. It is just short of giving up, quitting, dying. I don’t mean a peaceful, “I’ve lived my life fully” death. It is the worst possible feeling known and, at least in my experience, necessary to overcome the demons.
I don’t know if Lindsay Lohan or Charlie Sheen are there yet. For their sake I hope they are. Every night I pray for the men incarcerated here; that their hearts can be opened, their demons slayed, and their futures bright. The weird thing is most of those men aren’t at that point. They’re still more interested in hustles, in drugs, in a host of mind numbing, law breaking behaviors that will land them back here.
I hope they break before it’s too late. There were so many terrible nights during this trial. But, one will always stand out. One when I just wanted it all to end. Something got me through that night. Worse days came along, but my demons were gone. I hope, for Lindsay and Charlie, and the 1200 other inmates here that they too have hit bottom.
I also hope we all remember, “There but for the grace of God go I”.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Let Freedom Reign
The other day I watched as millions of ordinary Egyptians stood in the streets of Cairo and Alexandria and demanded an end to the tyrannical, repressive regime headed for thirty years by Hosni Mubarak.
I was transfixed when word came out that Mubarak had left the country. Ordinary Egyptians tired of terror and disappointment screamed with joy “we are free”. I saw fathers with tears in their eyes lift their children toward heaven. Men fell to their knees and prayed, reciting over and over “Allah Akbar” “God is great!”
A news clip then came on showing President Obama laud the transfer of power. He spoke about a peoples’ inherent desire, their absolute right to live free. In an amazing display of historical perspective, a news announcer reported that it was “exactly twenty-one years ago today” that Nelson Mandela stepped through the gates of a South African prison and walked forward a free man. After twenty-six long, lonely, brutal years, Mandela walked into freedom. He stepped to the microphones set up before him and in a firm voice said “let freedom reign”. President Obama chose those same three words in his remarks on Egypt.
“Let freedom reign.” I’ve re-read the story of Moses this week. Moses, a man who murdered an Egyptian and then fled rather than face the wrath of Pharaoh. God, however, had other plans for Moses. In spite of his failures, his crime, God saw in Moses righteousness. He called out to Moses, told him to “have courage” and then instructed him to “lead my people to freedom”.
“Let freedom reign.” I re-read the prophet Jeremiah’s words to the captive people of Israel. “God is with you. He shall restore you.” Jeremiah suffered grievously in his life. Imprisoned, beaten, starved, abandoned by his own people. There were many days Jeremiah wondered, “Has God forsaken me”. Still, he found the faith to tell his countrymen living away from home under the oppression of a Babylonian despot, living in captivity, “do not lose hope. God hears you. You will be restored”.
I have had a difficult past ten days. I have felt abandoned, lost and lived with a deep sense of hopelessness I haven’t felt in years. Many times during these difficult days I’ve fought back thoughts that my future looks bleak. I fought against thinking I would serve my entire sentence and be released to live my remaining days alone, lonely and destitute.
I’ve wondered why, why has all this happened? I’ve accepted responsibility for the decisions I made. Still, the punishment I have been handed is substantially more severe than the crime. I’ve lain in bed and asked God over and over this week how much more I must lose. Yeah, I’ve been feeling sorry for myself. And, maybe I deserve all that has happened.
As I was watching the news, watching the Egyptians celebrate, my workout coach stood in my cut.
“I know you’ve been strugglin’ this week,” Randy said. “You’re not like most men I’ve met. You’re a good man. Good men make bad decisions, but they overcome.”
“Let freedom reign.” That’s a tough sell this week. I want my freedom. I want a future. That seems so far away right now. Still, hope dies hard. This dark period shall pass. I’ll find my bearings. I’ll believe and hope again.
Freedom is precious. I’ll make it through somehow. I watched the joy in the Egyptian man’s face as he cried out “God gave me my freedom’. I know my day is coming.
I was transfixed when word came out that Mubarak had left the country. Ordinary Egyptians tired of terror and disappointment screamed with joy “we are free”. I saw fathers with tears in their eyes lift their children toward heaven. Men fell to their knees and prayed, reciting over and over “Allah Akbar” “God is great!”
A news clip then came on showing President Obama laud the transfer of power. He spoke about a peoples’ inherent desire, their absolute right to live free. In an amazing display of historical perspective, a news announcer reported that it was “exactly twenty-one years ago today” that Nelson Mandela stepped through the gates of a South African prison and walked forward a free man. After twenty-six long, lonely, brutal years, Mandela walked into freedom. He stepped to the microphones set up before him and in a firm voice said “let freedom reign”. President Obama chose those same three words in his remarks on Egypt.
“Let freedom reign.” I’ve re-read the story of Moses this week. Moses, a man who murdered an Egyptian and then fled rather than face the wrath of Pharaoh. God, however, had other plans for Moses. In spite of his failures, his crime, God saw in Moses righteousness. He called out to Moses, told him to “have courage” and then instructed him to “lead my people to freedom”.
“Let freedom reign.” I re-read the prophet Jeremiah’s words to the captive people of Israel. “God is with you. He shall restore you.” Jeremiah suffered grievously in his life. Imprisoned, beaten, starved, abandoned by his own people. There were many days Jeremiah wondered, “Has God forsaken me”. Still, he found the faith to tell his countrymen living away from home under the oppression of a Babylonian despot, living in captivity, “do not lose hope. God hears you. You will be restored”.
I have had a difficult past ten days. I have felt abandoned, lost and lived with a deep sense of hopelessness I haven’t felt in years. Many times during these difficult days I’ve fought back thoughts that my future looks bleak. I fought against thinking I would serve my entire sentence and be released to live my remaining days alone, lonely and destitute.
I’ve wondered why, why has all this happened? I’ve accepted responsibility for the decisions I made. Still, the punishment I have been handed is substantially more severe than the crime. I’ve lain in bed and asked God over and over this week how much more I must lose. Yeah, I’ve been feeling sorry for myself. And, maybe I deserve all that has happened.
As I was watching the news, watching the Egyptians celebrate, my workout coach stood in my cut.
“I know you’ve been strugglin’ this week,” Randy said. “You’re not like most men I’ve met. You’re a good man. Good men make bad decisions, but they overcome.”
“Let freedom reign.” That’s a tough sell this week. I want my freedom. I want a future. That seems so far away right now. Still, hope dies hard. This dark period shall pass. I’ll find my bearings. I’ll believe and hope again.
Freedom is precious. I’ll make it through somehow. I watched the joy in the Egyptian man’s face as he cried out “God gave me my freedom’. I know my day is coming.
Corrections in the News
Have you ever decided to buy a new car and look at a unique model. You don’t remember seeing “your model” much on the road. You buy it and suddenly everyone’s driving the same thing. So it is with corrections in the news. Prior to my arrest and conviction I don’t recall reading much about prisons (“Corrections” is a very Orwellian word. There ain’t a whole lot of “correcting” going on in prison!). Put me in prison and almost daily I see something related to my current living arrangements. This week was no exception.
The Wall Street Journal reported that states, looking for ways to save money are “beefing up probation and parole programs to reduce the number of prison inmates”. Who is the biggest opponent of this fiscally driven prison reform movement? The correction officers unions and associations. As I’ve written numerous times before, there is no correlation between longer sentences and recidivism. And, states that have “reformed” draconian sentencing guidelines have in fact seen larger decreases in crime than those states who haven’t (that’s a hint Virginia).
The recent recession has just brought home a simple fact of life: nothing is free. For years politicians convinced naive voters they could build large prisons and lock up “bad people” for long sentences with no repercussions. The simple fact is prisons cost major dollars; dollars better used for education and health care and roads. And the “bad people” being locked up? They didn’t commit violent crimes. They have drug and alcohol charges or theft charges. Longer sentences don’t reduce crime; they just increase the number incarcerated and the cost to keep them.
Virginia may be finally getting it. A courageous Republican Congressman, Frank Wolf recently held a congressional hearing to establish “best practices” for prisons nationwide with the goal of decreasing recidivism and correction costs. Senator Jim Webb reintroduced his bill to establish a National Criminal Justice Commission with a goal of reviewing the nation’s criminal justice system. One of its stated goals is to reform sentencing laws to ensure violent offenders actually serve time and nonviolent offenders utilize alternative sentencing.
A bill currently in the Virginia General Assembly (passed initial committee vote) would increase earned monthly good time days from 4.5 to 7. Early release would drop from 85% of sentence to 77%. While still not true sentencing reform, it would make a difference. My release date would change by over one year.
True sentence reform must come to Virginia. First time nonviolent felons must be offered alternative sentencing. Good time credits must be given for inmates who seriously work at reforming themselves. Credits should be significant. An inmate enrolled in educational or vocational programs should earn good time credits to reduce his or her sentence to 25% of the amount given. Poor behavior in prison and that number can steadily increase.
Then, there is the story of Virginia inmate Thomas Haynesworth who has served 27 years for convictions on multiple rapes. Haynesworth has maintained his innocence his entire sentence. Recently, DNA evidence cleared him in all but one case. In the one case remaining there is no DNA evidence available. In each of the cleared cases the same rapist was responsible.
A petition is now pending before the Virginia Court of Appeals with the support of the Virginia Attorney General’s office to set aside all of Haynesworth’s convictions. But, how do you give an innocent man 27 years of his life back? How do you apologize for all that Virginia took from him?
The Haynesworth case shows the system isn’t perfect. In fact, the system is broken. It is too expensive. It unfairly targets African-American males. It is unjust.
The Wall Street Journal reported that states, looking for ways to save money are “beefing up probation and parole programs to reduce the number of prison inmates”. Who is the biggest opponent of this fiscally driven prison reform movement? The correction officers unions and associations. As I’ve written numerous times before, there is no correlation between longer sentences and recidivism. And, states that have “reformed” draconian sentencing guidelines have in fact seen larger decreases in crime than those states who haven’t (that’s a hint Virginia).
The recent recession has just brought home a simple fact of life: nothing is free. For years politicians convinced naive voters they could build large prisons and lock up “bad people” for long sentences with no repercussions. The simple fact is prisons cost major dollars; dollars better used for education and health care and roads. And the “bad people” being locked up? They didn’t commit violent crimes. They have drug and alcohol charges or theft charges. Longer sentences don’t reduce crime; they just increase the number incarcerated and the cost to keep them.
Virginia may be finally getting it. A courageous Republican Congressman, Frank Wolf recently held a congressional hearing to establish “best practices” for prisons nationwide with the goal of decreasing recidivism and correction costs. Senator Jim Webb reintroduced his bill to establish a National Criminal Justice Commission with a goal of reviewing the nation’s criminal justice system. One of its stated goals is to reform sentencing laws to ensure violent offenders actually serve time and nonviolent offenders utilize alternative sentencing.
A bill currently in the Virginia General Assembly (passed initial committee vote) would increase earned monthly good time days from 4.5 to 7. Early release would drop from 85% of sentence to 77%. While still not true sentencing reform, it would make a difference. My release date would change by over one year.
True sentence reform must come to Virginia. First time nonviolent felons must be offered alternative sentencing. Good time credits must be given for inmates who seriously work at reforming themselves. Credits should be significant. An inmate enrolled in educational or vocational programs should earn good time credits to reduce his or her sentence to 25% of the amount given. Poor behavior in prison and that number can steadily increase.
Then, there is the story of Virginia inmate Thomas Haynesworth who has served 27 years for convictions on multiple rapes. Haynesworth has maintained his innocence his entire sentence. Recently, DNA evidence cleared him in all but one case. In the one case remaining there is no DNA evidence available. In each of the cleared cases the same rapist was responsible.
A petition is now pending before the Virginia Court of Appeals with the support of the Virginia Attorney General’s office to set aside all of Haynesworth’s convictions. But, how do you give an innocent man 27 years of his life back? How do you apologize for all that Virginia took from him?
The Haynesworth case shows the system isn’t perfect. In fact, the system is broken. It is too expensive. It unfairly targets African-American males. It is unjust.
The Visit
I had an emotional visit last Sunday. One of my close friends, a man who regularly visited me during my year of hell in jail, came by. He brought an elderly man with him. That man was always one of my favorite people in our church. He and his wife sat directly behind my family every Sunday morning. He and I would laugh and joke before the service. I considered him one of the finest, most decent men I’d ever met.
He and his wife were married in that church over fifty years earlier. His mother and father were members there. His children married there. His grandchildren were baptized, married and then had their children baptized in that church.
He’s 84 years old and he has seen a great deal. He was there in Prince Edward County when they closed the public schools after Brown v. Board of Education was handed down. The whites in the county didn’t want to integrate the schools. He doesn’t see color. A farmer all his life, he and his wife are simply kind, gentle, Christ like people.
After I was arrested, while nearly my entire church ceased communicating with me, he would send me a card or a quick note just to let me know he was praying for me. He testified on my behalf at my sentencing. I reread the transcript of my sentencing hearing. The Commonwealth Attorney was trying to get him to say how shocked and angered he was when he learned of my thefts. He looked the Commonwealth Attorney in the eye and said “No sir. He’s a human, made a mistake; but, he’s a good man.” That moment in the hearing always stayed with me as I struggled with the guilt I carried for letting so many people down. I didn’t feel like a “good man”. Far from it. I thought everything was my fault. I thought I deserved everything that was happening.
Then Sunday at visit he and I were talking, catching up on people at church. He told me he missed having me in the pew in front of him. Both men told me how well I looked and how impressed they were with my attitude and the work I was doing.
I couldn’t handle what happened next. As the older man listened, my friend told me my ex and younger son were “hanging in there”. I choked up and told them how much regret I felt over the hurt I caused my ex and two sons. “Not a day goes by that I don’t die a little because of the divorce. Everything that happened is my fault.” My friend fought back tears.
Not the old man. He grabbed my hand, looked me straight in the eye and said “Larry, you’re a good man. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. We all fall short. You’re still a fine man and I’m proud to have you as a friend.”
There are times when things are said at just the right moment; that was one of those times. What most people don’t understand is I write a good deal about this place to help me deal with what I face. I come across as moving easily in and out of the various groups of inmates. And, that is true. But, what people don’t see is the level of sorrow I feel over what happened.
I live each day with the constant thought that I let down my wife and two sons. I didn’t just let them down, I devastated them. Imagine going through the remainder of your life knowing you deliberately failed the three people you love more than anything.
There is nothing DOC could do to me that would be worse than what I already feel. So yes, I write about the evils and stupidity of the corrections system. Yes, I write about the hustles guys run to cope with life in here. But, each day is filled with sadness and sorrow.
At our wedding a friend sang Jim Croce’s song “Time in a Bottle”. I can’t allow the words to even enter my mind. I want to go back to a time when I could look at her face and hear her say “I love you”. I want to go back to a time when my older son hugged me. I want to go back to a time when my younger son and I were in the yard playing catch.
Shortly after Croce released “Time in a Bottle”, he died in a plane crash. I wondered how long his wife grieved, how many months, years she prayed for just one more day.
My older friend’s visit reminded me at my core I’m a good man. Right now, I live with a great deal of memories and regret. But, there is still time.
He and his wife were married in that church over fifty years earlier. His mother and father were members there. His children married there. His grandchildren were baptized, married and then had their children baptized in that church.
He’s 84 years old and he has seen a great deal. He was there in Prince Edward County when they closed the public schools after Brown v. Board of Education was handed down. The whites in the county didn’t want to integrate the schools. He doesn’t see color. A farmer all his life, he and his wife are simply kind, gentle, Christ like people.
After I was arrested, while nearly my entire church ceased communicating with me, he would send me a card or a quick note just to let me know he was praying for me. He testified on my behalf at my sentencing. I reread the transcript of my sentencing hearing. The Commonwealth Attorney was trying to get him to say how shocked and angered he was when he learned of my thefts. He looked the Commonwealth Attorney in the eye and said “No sir. He’s a human, made a mistake; but, he’s a good man.” That moment in the hearing always stayed with me as I struggled with the guilt I carried for letting so many people down. I didn’t feel like a “good man”. Far from it. I thought everything was my fault. I thought I deserved everything that was happening.
Then Sunday at visit he and I were talking, catching up on people at church. He told me he missed having me in the pew in front of him. Both men told me how well I looked and how impressed they were with my attitude and the work I was doing.
I couldn’t handle what happened next. As the older man listened, my friend told me my ex and younger son were “hanging in there”. I choked up and told them how much regret I felt over the hurt I caused my ex and two sons. “Not a day goes by that I don’t die a little because of the divorce. Everything that happened is my fault.” My friend fought back tears.
Not the old man. He grabbed my hand, looked me straight in the eye and said “Larry, you’re a good man. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. We all fall short. You’re still a fine man and I’m proud to have you as a friend.”
There are times when things are said at just the right moment; that was one of those times. What most people don’t understand is I write a good deal about this place to help me deal with what I face. I come across as moving easily in and out of the various groups of inmates. And, that is true. But, what people don’t see is the level of sorrow I feel over what happened.
I live each day with the constant thought that I let down my wife and two sons. I didn’t just let them down, I devastated them. Imagine going through the remainder of your life knowing you deliberately failed the three people you love more than anything.
There is nothing DOC could do to me that would be worse than what I already feel. So yes, I write about the evils and stupidity of the corrections system. Yes, I write about the hustles guys run to cope with life in here. But, each day is filled with sadness and sorrow.
At our wedding a friend sang Jim Croce’s song “Time in a Bottle”. I can’t allow the words to even enter my mind. I want to go back to a time when I could look at her face and hear her say “I love you”. I want to go back to a time when my older son hugged me. I want to go back to a time when my younger son and I were in the yard playing catch.
Shortly after Croce released “Time in a Bottle”, he died in a plane crash. I wondered how long his wife grieved, how many months, years she prayed for just one more day.
My older friend’s visit reminded me at my core I’m a good man. Right now, I live with a great deal of memories and regret. But, there is still time.
Opie's Back
Opie was released from the hole after four days. He was offered a chance to have his charge dropped if he told where the tobacco came from.
“I won’t snitch.” Opie ate the charge. The hearing officer told him it wasn’t about his guilt or innocence,
“we want names or you’re guilty”. Opie didn’t talk.
He’ll remain in college which is a good thing. His hope to break out of the cycle of getting out and coming back rests completely on him succeeding in college.
I thought about Pacino in “Scent of a Woman”. Chris O’Donnell was willing to be dismissed from school rather than “being a rat”. Pacino called that character.
Opie may be an inmate, but he’s got character.
“I won’t snitch.” Opie ate the charge. The hearing officer told him it wasn’t about his guilt or innocence,
“we want names or you’re guilty”. Opie didn’t talk.
He’ll remain in college which is a good thing. His hope to break out of the cycle of getting out and coming back rests completely on him succeeding in college.
I thought about Pacino in “Scent of a Woman”. Chris O’Donnell was willing to be dismissed from school rather than “being a rat”. Pacino called that character.
Opie may be an inmate, but he’s got character.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Days Like These
There are days in here that seem to pass by smoothly. Then, there are days that roll over in a tsunami of stress, prayerful reflection and trying to just hang on. I had a few days like that this week.
It started Monday. Guys had been hitting me up for legal help by the dozens. But, there are only so many hours in the day and, quite frankly, most guys don’t have a case. They’ve either waited too long or they were guilty and no amount of hours from me in the law library will change that.
But success breeds reputation and a week ago one guy for whom I prepared a motion to reopen his case (based on extrinsic fraud) was granted a hearing. Everyone wanted my help.
There’s one guy “TN” who had asked me to prep a Habeas Petition. I told him I would in a few weeks. That led to this exchange in front of my classroom.
TN: Look, either you do my work tonight or I’m wuppin your ass in the bathroom [TN, by the way, is a 6’5” black guy in for attempted murder and armed B&E].
Me: You’re gonna respect the way I do things. I’m helping you, not vice versa.
TN: To the bathroom MoFo.
Me: F--- You! Man up and hit me right here.
The result? TN backed down. In a quieter voice he said “Look man. I’m desperate. I’m beggin’ you. Please help me.”
I’d been threatened before – at receiving - and knew then you can’t back down. When a guy calls you out he’s “frontin” you. He’s looking for a way to save face. It shook me, but I know in here I have to demand respect or things will spiral out of control.
Tuesday night, almost 17 months from her last letter, my ex wrote. The contents of the letter are between us, but it shook me deeply. For almost that entire time I would pray each night for word from her. I knew how I’d react, knew how I’d respond.
When it happened, I did exactly the opposite of what I had meticulously planned. In short, I blew it. I became completely unnerved and reacted incorrectly.
The weird thing was, by the time I went to bed I was back at peace. I lay awake for a few minutes and then recited the 103rd Psalm. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. I had reacted without carefully weighing, thinking and praying.
The next morning, I read the story of Moses killing the Egyptian and then fleeing. In a commentary, the writer noted that Moses reacted impulsively. He failed to trust God. It would later turn out God wasn’t through with Moses. That entire day I thought “How can I undo what I did?” The answer always came back the same: You can only go forward.
Did I blow it? I don’t know. But, I do know God’s involved. He has a plan for my ex, my sons and me. It isn’t going to be what I want; it’ll be what He wants.
I was at work and Ms. H, the teacher I work for in the morning knew I had things weighing me down. She said this to me:
“You give the impression this is easy. You’re smarter than almost anyone here; you’re charming; you have all the teachers fighting over using you in class. Guys all over this place gravitate to you. And you have a blog.”
I tried to explain to her that’s the outside me. Inside I’m lonely, I’m broken.
“People don’t see that on the street. They don’t see the suffering.”
She was right. As Saleem told me, I’m living better in prison than a lot of these guys are outside.
Saleem is an interesting man. He is the leader of the Muslim community. Fifty-eight years old, he’s been locked up 30 years. He owned a business then got greedy. Taking money from his legitimate business, he began running illegal enterprises. He made a ton of cash. It was quick and easy, too easy. One night a deal went bad and he killed a man.
Saleem had never been in a fight his entire life and in one stupid, reckless act he was guilty of capital murder.
He heard me at my worst Tuesday night. Saleem said: “Larry you’re a very good guy. You have a bigger heart than just about anyone I’ve ever met. But, you have to realize, in here you can only do Larry.”
I looked puzzled. “You have no control over the street”, he said. “You can’t make your ex or your kids or the Governor do anything. I see you at 4:00 every morning praying. I believe you’re a man of God. That means, put it in His hands and trust Him.”
I realized that’s how Saleem, DC and Ty do their time, by remembering they have little control in their life. What they do is keep their minds and their faith strong. So I survived. I didn’t handle things the way I wanted, but I made it through. I went to the law library and typed TN’s Habeas Petition and waited for tomorrow.
It started Monday. Guys had been hitting me up for legal help by the dozens. But, there are only so many hours in the day and, quite frankly, most guys don’t have a case. They’ve either waited too long or they were guilty and no amount of hours from me in the law library will change that.
But success breeds reputation and a week ago one guy for whom I prepared a motion to reopen his case (based on extrinsic fraud) was granted a hearing. Everyone wanted my help.
There’s one guy “TN” who had asked me to prep a Habeas Petition. I told him I would in a few weeks. That led to this exchange in front of my classroom.
TN: Look, either you do my work tonight or I’m wuppin your ass in the bathroom [TN, by the way, is a 6’5” black guy in for attempted murder and armed B&E].
Me: You’re gonna respect the way I do things. I’m helping you, not vice versa.
TN: To the bathroom MoFo.
Me: F--- You! Man up and hit me right here.
The result? TN backed down. In a quieter voice he said “Look man. I’m desperate. I’m beggin’ you. Please help me.”
I’d been threatened before – at receiving - and knew then you can’t back down. When a guy calls you out he’s “frontin” you. He’s looking for a way to save face. It shook me, but I know in here I have to demand respect or things will spiral out of control.
Tuesday night, almost 17 months from her last letter, my ex wrote. The contents of the letter are between us, but it shook me deeply. For almost that entire time I would pray each night for word from her. I knew how I’d react, knew how I’d respond.
When it happened, I did exactly the opposite of what I had meticulously planned. In short, I blew it. I became completely unnerved and reacted incorrectly.
The weird thing was, by the time I went to bed I was back at peace. I lay awake for a few minutes and then recited the 103rd Psalm. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. I had reacted without carefully weighing, thinking and praying.
The next morning, I read the story of Moses killing the Egyptian and then fleeing. In a commentary, the writer noted that Moses reacted impulsively. He failed to trust God. It would later turn out God wasn’t through with Moses. That entire day I thought “How can I undo what I did?” The answer always came back the same: You can only go forward.
Did I blow it? I don’t know. But, I do know God’s involved. He has a plan for my ex, my sons and me. It isn’t going to be what I want; it’ll be what He wants.
I was at work and Ms. H, the teacher I work for in the morning knew I had things weighing me down. She said this to me:
“You give the impression this is easy. You’re smarter than almost anyone here; you’re charming; you have all the teachers fighting over using you in class. Guys all over this place gravitate to you. And you have a blog.”
I tried to explain to her that’s the outside me. Inside I’m lonely, I’m broken.
“People don’t see that on the street. They don’t see the suffering.”
She was right. As Saleem told me, I’m living better in prison than a lot of these guys are outside.
Saleem is an interesting man. He is the leader of the Muslim community. Fifty-eight years old, he’s been locked up 30 years. He owned a business then got greedy. Taking money from his legitimate business, he began running illegal enterprises. He made a ton of cash. It was quick and easy, too easy. One night a deal went bad and he killed a man.
Saleem had never been in a fight his entire life and in one stupid, reckless act he was guilty of capital murder.
He heard me at my worst Tuesday night. Saleem said: “Larry you’re a very good guy. You have a bigger heart than just about anyone I’ve ever met. But, you have to realize, in here you can only do Larry.”
I looked puzzled. “You have no control over the street”, he said. “You can’t make your ex or your kids or the Governor do anything. I see you at 4:00 every morning praying. I believe you’re a man of God. That means, put it in His hands and trust Him.”
I realized that’s how Saleem, DC and Ty do their time, by remembering they have little control in their life. What they do is keep their minds and their faith strong. So I survived. I didn’t handle things the way I wanted, but I made it through. I went to the law library and typed TN’s Habeas Petition and waited for tomorrow.
Consider This
Last week the Virginia General Assembly once again failed to act on prison reform. A bill before it granting ten additional earned good time days for those inmates participating in educational, vocational or treatment programs failed in committee. Under the guise of being “tough on crime”, the legislature again failed the citizens of the Commonwealth.
Consider the following from Justice Fellowship (www.justicefellowship.org):
“We seek to change our criminal justice system at every level so that it reflects the principles of restorative justice found in the Bible . . .
Sentencing practices that rely excessively or exclusively on incarceration harm our communities and sap government funds. Prisons are appropriate for many violent offenders. However, prison is not always the best way to make us safe . . . there is only a limited and diminishing relationship between incarceration and reduced crime rates. Rather than encouraging criminals to become peaceful, productive citizens, prison culture often has the opposite effect, operating as a graduate school for crime. . .
Good time credit opportunities should be increased and truth in sentencing laws should be reformed to reduce the time an offender must be in prison before he or she is eligible for parole.”
Makes a lot of sense. It’s a shame that Virginia’s elected representatives don’t.
Then, these statistics from the recent symposium on Mass Incarceration held at George Mason University:
Between 1987 and 2007 correction spending increased 127%. In the same time period higher education spending only increased 21%. The United States has the highest prison population rate in the world, 756 per 100,000. Three fifths of the world has rates below 150 per 100,000.
The combined inmate population of the top 35 European countries is a million less than the inmate population here:
1:100 Adults are incarcerated
1:25 18-65 year olds are on probation or parole
1:5 American adults have a criminal record
3.5:100 Juveniles 11-17 years old are in the juvenile justice system.
According to a study by Cullen, Nagin and Johnston (2009), “Incarceration has no impact on recidivism rates, but may in fact cause future criminal behavior.”
What does it all mean? As one “on the inside” I can tell you incarceration is necessary. However, the length of sentences and the disparity in sentences must be changed.
I don’t disagree that I should have been incarcerated. But, what number of years is a reasonable sentence for the crime of embezzlement? I keep a file full of embezzlement cases. Not one sentence handed down was as severe as mine. The closest, former Virginia Finance Director John W. Forbes, embezzled $4.1 million from a state commission. He made no restitution at trial. His sentence: 10 years, well below my sentence.
In prison, I am a drag on society. I pay neither taxes nor my remaining restitution. It costs $25,000 per year to keep me here.
It didn’t take long in here to realize I didn’t want this. Nothing is worth my loss of freedom. The price I paid was high.
It is painfully clear Virginia needs to restore parole and give inmates an opportunity to rehabilitate and earn early release.
The system is neither economically viable nor morally justifiable. It’s worth considering.
Consider the following from Justice Fellowship (www.justicefellowship.org):
“We seek to change our criminal justice system at every level so that it reflects the principles of restorative justice found in the Bible . . .
Sentencing practices that rely excessively or exclusively on incarceration harm our communities and sap government funds. Prisons are appropriate for many violent offenders. However, prison is not always the best way to make us safe . . . there is only a limited and diminishing relationship between incarceration and reduced crime rates. Rather than encouraging criminals to become peaceful, productive citizens, prison culture often has the opposite effect, operating as a graduate school for crime. . .
Good time credit opportunities should be increased and truth in sentencing laws should be reformed to reduce the time an offender must be in prison before he or she is eligible for parole.”
Makes a lot of sense. It’s a shame that Virginia’s elected representatives don’t.
Then, these statistics from the recent symposium on Mass Incarceration held at George Mason University:
Between 1987 and 2007 correction spending increased 127%. In the same time period higher education spending only increased 21%. The United States has the highest prison population rate in the world, 756 per 100,000. Three fifths of the world has rates below 150 per 100,000.
The combined inmate population of the top 35 European countries is a million less than the inmate population here:
1:100 Adults are incarcerated
1:25 18-65 year olds are on probation or parole
1:5 American adults have a criminal record
3.5:100 Juveniles 11-17 years old are in the juvenile justice system.
According to a study by Cullen, Nagin and Johnston (2009), “Incarceration has no impact on recidivism rates, but may in fact cause future criminal behavior.”
What does it all mean? As one “on the inside” I can tell you incarceration is necessary. However, the length of sentences and the disparity in sentences must be changed.
I don’t disagree that I should have been incarcerated. But, what number of years is a reasonable sentence for the crime of embezzlement? I keep a file full of embezzlement cases. Not one sentence handed down was as severe as mine. The closest, former Virginia Finance Director John W. Forbes, embezzled $4.1 million from a state commission. He made no restitution at trial. His sentence: 10 years, well below my sentence.
In prison, I am a drag on society. I pay neither taxes nor my remaining restitution. It costs $25,000 per year to keep me here.
It didn’t take long in here to realize I didn’t want this. Nothing is worth my loss of freedom. The price I paid was high.
It is painfully clear Virginia needs to restore parole and give inmates an opportunity to rehabilitate and earn early release.
The system is neither economically viable nor morally justifiable. It’s worth considering.
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