The Letters

 THIS BLOG WAS WRITTEN IN JANUARY, 2015.

 

            The news reported extensively on the letters, so many letters addressing the goodness, the decency, of the man. There were over four hundred letters submitted and they all addressed the same issue: what a terrible waste of a life it would be to send this man to prison. “Déjà vu,” I thought. I’d been there when friends and community and church leaders stood by me and urged my sentencing judge to show mercy. Those people, those letters came back to me as the continuing saga of former Governor McDonnell’s pending sentencing approaches.

            Does community support matter? I’m not sure. In my case, the judge made short work of my “support.” He acknowledged I had done much good. But, he said those good works couldn’t overcome my breach of trust. In the same way, those hundreds of letters urging mercy and leniency for Mr. McDonnell focus on all the good he has done throughout his career. The letters ask the court to “weigh” the good versus the wrong. And, just like my supporters, they seek to explain the wrong as “out of character.”

            I remember spending many nights alone in my cell at the jail defending myself and life record with God. I had reasons for doing what I did, I would whisper over and over. I always tried to help people; I worked for the church, for the community. I gave all I had to my family; I was a good friend. Over and over though I’d come back to the same conclusion I’d paraphrased from a Dylan song: “All the good that you do can never buy back your soul.”

            I am, I must confess, conflicted about Robert McDonnell. He was a party to the shame that is Virginia’s corrections apparatus. As a prosecutor, he ensured that many of the men I’ve met who lacked the intellect or financial wherewithal to challenge a prosecution ended up behind bars. And, as I’ve written before, most sent to prison deserve neither the length of sentence nor treatment they receive. Prison is a false solution to too many societal failures.

            McDonnell was a party to the lie that “lock em up and throw away the key” was the cure-all to the epidemic of crime (mostly drug crime) that swept poor, inner city neighborhoods in the ‘80s and ‘90s. He supported abolishing parole. And, all his positions made him a darling in the surging Republican party of that same era. That wave led McDonnell to first being elected Virginia’s Attorney General and later to the Governorship.

            Can the “good” outweigh the “bad?” The letters, the support, tells you it should. And you know, I’m not that different from the Governor. There was a time – years ago – before kids, and marital issues, and stupid, reckless decisions about money, that I harbored dreams of political office. I was bright, energetic, and “good.” And, I “knew” crime needed to be punished. Somehow, my views changed when I ended up on this side of the fence. “A liberal is a conservative who’s been arrested.” I get that.

            Justice doesn’t reside in creating a tally sheet with “5” good things neutralizing “1” bad. No, our actions stand on their own. All those letters can’t change the fact that Governor McDonnell broke the law.

            What then are their value? For me they were, they are a reminder that at my core I am more than what the sentencing order shows. They remind me to hold my head up and believe that there is something beyond this. They also remind me that even in my worst moments I mattered to those around me.

            In a prior blog, I wrote that I believed Mr. McDonnell deserved mercy and that no societal benefit can be derived from his incarceration. Like me, his punishment is felt daily in the heartache over his family turmoil and the hurt he caused those who care about him. Mr. McDonnell can still do much good. Don’t waste his talents in the cesspool that is prison.

            Perhaps the letters will remind him of who he truly is and what he really cares about. And perhaps those currently in power Richmond will use his situation as a wakeup call to release so very many of us who languish in here while trying the best we can to make a difference.

            If you ever want to be humbled, have a lawyer ask your friends to write a letter supporting leniency in sentencing. It will change your heart forever. I hope the former Governor has figured that out.

 

John Retracted

            John Grisham, author, lawyer, social commentator, found himself in the middle of a mess the other day. The irony is that Grisham has made himself rich with his mastery of words. Yet here he was apologizing, retracting, and correcting what he had said. What was all the fuss about? Grisham, in an interview with “The Guardian,” was discussing America’s seeming love affair with over sentencing of so many white-collar and non-violent crimes. “Judges have gone crazy,” he said. So far, so good. After all, Grisham is a well-known advocate for sentencing reform (his nonfiction bestseller, “An Innocent Man,” more than any other, convinced me this nation’s appetite for use of the death penalty was fraught with errors.).

            No, Grisham screwed up because he personalized sentencing overreach to a case involving a friend of his. “I have a friend,” he began. This friend’s life was unraveling. He was drinking heavily. One night, according to Grisham, while the friend was alone and drunk, he “double-clicked” onto a website with young women. “They all looked over thirty,” Grisham told the paper (I wonder how he knew?). A few weeks later his friend answered his door to find the FBI knocking. He was hooked up in a joint Royal Canadian Mounted Police/FBI child pornography sting. “My friend received three years. His life was ruined and he didn’t hurt anyone …”

            “He just “clicked” …” I hear that a good bit in here from almost every child porn offender. “I just stumbled across it,” they’ll say. There was a guy here – computer genius – who vented to me one day that it wasn’t “fair” that a judge gave him ten years for “accidentally” coming across child porn. The problem for him was (1) he knew computers, inside and out, and the porn was deep on his hard drive, lots of it; and (2) the police didn’t just stumble over his one-time viewing, he was marketing the disgusting stuff. So, his “victim” anger at the judge and system was just another guy refusing to say “I did it. I’m sick” (or “I’m sleazy”).

            But Grisham? I want to take him at his word. I want to believe in his friend’s drinking problem as motivation for his behavior because I know all too often criminal investigations aren’t about truth, they’re about convictions. And there’s another reason I want to believe Grisham. He’s standing up for his friend. Let me tell you, you royally screw up, you find yourself on the wrong side of those bars, you watch everyone and everything you care about peel away, and then in the wreckage of your life there are those very few who say, “I’m here for you;” I guess you have to experience it to know what I mean.

            Friends. I have friends who were there at the jail. When the stories hit the paper, when rumors flew, they were there. They took up for me, they defended me, they cared for my family, they prayed for me. And the day I was sentenced they were there with me and they told the court I was a “good man.” No, I respect Mr. Grisham’s defense of his friend and his understanding that sending his friend to prison neither makes society safer nor fairly punishes for the offense. Prison should be reserved for the worst, most violent. Sending to prison the vast majority of those who end up here just creates more problems and does nothing to address the underlying criminal conduct.

            Where Mr. Grisham screwed up was calling child pornography a “victimless” crime. Those children photographed were exploited. They are victims. And candidly, there may not be such a thing as a “victimless” crime. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. The company I worked for took in over $200 million a year. “What’s $2 million over twelve years?” I would rationalize my behavior on more than a few very bad nights at the jail and receiving units. It was always worse when I’d meet a child pornographer doing eight years, or a rapist doing ten. “How can this be fair?” I would wonder. No, there were victims to my thefts: my family and friends who I let down; people at work and the community who relied on me; my employer who trusted me.

            As I said earlier, I want to take Mr. Grisham at his word because his advocacy for changing this broken, corrupt system matters. Until you come in here and see how dysfunctional all “this” is, how it is nothing but a money pit, how it sucks the life out of the offenders, their families, and the community at large. You can’t begin to comprehend what a mess all this is. It does no one any good. You never see what goes on in here until you find yourself on the wrong side of the fence or you know someone on the wrong side.

            A few years ago, John Grisham wrote a powerful OpEd calling on the then Virginia Governor (and now convicted felon) Robert McDonnell to commute a woman’s death sentence. His words struck me deeply and I sat down and penned a letter to him to express my appreciation. Grisham’s intentions were well placed. His compassion and concern for his friend, and his understanding that America’s reliance on prison for millions of nonviolent offenders as well as our over criminalization of hundreds of behaviors cannot be ignored. What Grisham has to say about justice in America is correct. I only hope we don’t miss the truth by a few misplaced words.