A Living Death - Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses, ACLU, 2013

A Living Death - Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses, ACLU, 2013

• Feb. 11, 2016 • Locations: United States of America • Topics: Sentencing, Parole

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A LIVING DEATH

Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses

November 2013

A America’s
Living Expense:
Death
At

LifeMass
without
Parole
for Nonviolent
The
Incarceration
of the Elderly
© 2013 ACLU Foundation
�

June 2012

American Civil Liberties Union
125 Broad Street
New York, NY 10004
www.aclu.org
Cover image credit: Tim Gruber

Cover images:
A life sentence in Louisiana means life without the possibility of parole.
Because of harsh sentencing laws, about 95 percent of the 5,225 people
imprisoned at the Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola will die there.
Louisiana is the state with the highest number of prisoners serving life
without parole for nonviolent offenses in the United States, with 429 such
prisoners, 91 percent of whom are Black according to the ACLU’s estimates.
(Top) Mary Bloomer, a prison security guard, watches as prisoners form a line
to travel to their prison jobs, which include farm labor. Angola is a massive
maximum security plantation prison, occupying flat delta land equal to the
size of Manhattan.
(Middle) George Alexander’s socks are marked with his nickname “Ghost.”
Alexander was a patient in the Angola hospice program who later succumbed to
brain and lung cancers. His nickname is short for “Casper, the Friendly Ghost.”
(Bottom) Hospice volunteers roll George Alexander’s coffin from the prison
hospital before burial in the prison’s cemetery.
Photo credit: Lori Waselchuk, “Grace Before Dying”

Back cover image:
The cemetery at Louisiana State Penitentiary at Angola.

Offenses
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TABLE Of CONTENTs
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I. Executive summary
II. Recommendations
III. Methodology

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A. DeFiNiNG “LiFe WiTHOUT PArOLe”
B. DeFiNiNG “NONviOLeNT”

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IV. findings: The Use of Life without Parole for Nonviolent Crimes
A.
B.
C.
D.

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riSe iN LiFe-WiTHOUT-PArOLe SeNTeNCeS
NONviOLeNT CriMeS THAT reSULT iN LiFe-WiTHOUT-PArOLe SeNTeNCeS
WHO iS ServiNG LWOP FOr NONviOLeNT CriMeS: THe NUMBerS
rACiAL DiSPAriTy iN LiFe-WiTHOUT-PArOLe SeNTeNCiNG

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V. How We Got Here: skyrocketing Extreme sentences and Mass Incarceration
A. THe “WAr ON DrUGS” AND MANDATOry MiNiMUM SeNTeNCiNG LAWS
B. THree-STrikeS AND OTHer HABiTUAL OFFeNDer LAWS
C. CHANGeS TO PArOLe LAWS AND OTHer LiMiTATiONS ON reLeASe

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VI. Case studies: 110 Offenders sentenced to Die in Prison for Nonviolent Crimes
A.
B.
C.
D.

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VII. The Reality of serving Life without Parole

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A. WHAT iT MeANS TO Be SeNTeNCeD TO LiFe WiTHOUT PArOLe
i. Hopelessness, Depression, and Suicidal Thoughts and Attempts
ii. isolation from Family
B. PriSON CONDiTiONS
i. violence
ii. Solitary Confinement
iii. restricted Access to Drug Treatment, vocational, and educational Programs
C. LiMiTeD JUDiCiAL revieW OF DeATH-iN-PriSON SeNTeNCeS
D. virTUALLy NO CHANCe OF CLeMeNCy Or COMPASSiONATe reLeASe

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VIII. The financial Cost of sentencing Nonviolent Offenders to Life without Parole
A. MeTHODOLOGy
B. FiSCAL COST-SAviNGS eSTiMATeS

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IX. Comparative International Practice and fundamental Rights to Humane Treatment,
Proportionate sentence, and Rehabilitation

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OUT OF STeP WiTH THe WOrLD
DiSPrOPOrTiONATe SeNTeNCeS viOLATe iNTerNATiONAL LAW
riGHT TO reHABiLiTATiON UNDer iNTerNATiONAL LAW
U.S. CONSTiTUTiONAL LAW

X. Acknowledgments

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A.
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FirST-TiMe NONviOLeNT OFFeNDerS
NONviOLeNT TeeNAGe OFFeNDerS
TyiNG JUDGeS’ HANDS: MANDATOry LiFe WiTHOUT PArOLe
LiFe WiTHOUT PArOLe FOr NONviOLeNT OFFeNSeS UNDer HABiTUAL OFFeNDer LAWS
i. State Habitual Offenders
ii. Federal Habitual Offenders
LiFe WiTHOUT PArOLe FOr MAriJUANA
LiFe WiTHOUT PArOLe DUe TO CrACk/POWDer COCAiNe SeNTeNCiNG DiSPAriTy
AGiNG AND eLDerLy NONviOLeNT PriSONerS
TerMiNALLy iLL NONviOLeNT PriSONerS

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e.
F.
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H.

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A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses
�

Executive summary

ife in prison without a chance of parole is, short of
execution, the harshest imaginable punishment.1 Life
without parole (LWOP) is permanent removal from
society with no chance of reentry, no hope of freedom.
One should expect the American criminal justice system to
condemn someone to die in prison only for the most serious
offenses.
Yet across the country, thousands of people are serving life
sentences without the possibility of parole for nonviolent
crimes as petty as siphoning gasoline from an 18-wheeler,
shoplifting three belts, breaking into a parked car and stealing
a woman’s bagged lunch, or possessing a bottle cap smeared
with heroin residue. In their cruelty and harshness, these
sentences defy common sense. They are grotesquely out of
proportion to the conduct they seek to punish. They offend
the principle that all people have the right to be treated with
humanity and respect for their inherent dignity.

About 79 percent of the 3,278
prisoners serving life without
parole were sentenced to die
in prison for nonviolent drug
crimes.
This report documents the thousands of lives ruined and
families destroyed by sentencing people to die behind bars
for nonviolent offenses, and includes detailed case studies
of 110 such people. It also includes a detailed fiscal analysis
tallying the $1.784 billion cost to taxpayers to keep the 3,278
prisoners currently serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
incarcerated for the rest of their lives.
Our findings are based on extensive documentation of the
cases of 646 prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
in the federal system and nine states. The data in this report
is from the United States Sentencing Commission, Federal

American Civil Liberties Union

Bureau of Prisons, and state Departments of Corrections,
obtained pursuant to Freedom of Information Act and open
records requests filed by the ACLU. Our research is also
based on telephone interviews conducted by the ACLU with
prisoners, their lawyers, and family members; correspondence
with prisoners serving life without parole for nonviolent
offenses; a survey of 355 prisoners serving life without parole
for nonviolent offenses; and media and court records searches.

sentenced to Die Behind Bars for
Nonviolent Crimes
Using data obtained from the Bureau of Prisons and state
Departments of Corrections, the ACLU calculates that
as of 2012, there were 3,278 prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent drug and property crimes in the federal system
and in nine states that provided such statistics (there may well
be more such prisoners in other states). About 79 percent of
these 3,278 prisoners are serving LWOP for nonviolent drug
crimes. Nearly two-thirds of prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses nationwide are in the federal system; of
these, 96 percent are serving LWOP for drug crimes. More
than 18 percent of federal prisoners surveyed by the ACLU
are serving LWOP for their first offenses. Of the states that
sentence nonviolent offenders to LWOP, Louisiana, Florida,
Alabama, Mississippi, South Carolina, and Oklahoma
have the highest numbers of prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent crimes, largely due to three-strikes and other
kinds of habitual offender laws that mandate an LWOP
sentence for the commission of a nonviolent crime.
The overwhelming majority (83.4 percent) of the LWOP
sentences for nonviolent crimes surveyed by the ACLU
were mandatory. In these cases, the sentencing judges had
no choice in sentencing due to laws requiring mandatory
minimum periods of imprisonment, habitual offender laws,
statutory penalty enhancements, or other sentencing rules
that mandated LWOP. Prosecutors, on the other hand, have
immense power over defendants’ fates: whether or not to
charge a defendant with a sentencing enhancement triggering
an LWOP sentence is within their discretion. In case after

“

It’s like someone dying but not being put to rest.”2

—Dicky Joe Jackson, 55, who has served 17 years of a life-without-parole sentence because he transported
and sold methamphetamine to pay for a life-saving bone marrow transplant and other medical treatments
for his son.3

case reviewed by the ACLU, the sentencing judge said on
the record that he or she opposed the mandatory LWOP
sentence as too severe but had no discretion to take individual
circumstances into account or override the prosecutor’s
charging decision.

the substantial number of prisoners who will die behind bars

As striking as they are, the numbers documented in this
report underrepresent the true number of people who will die
in prison after being convicted of a nonviolent crime in this
country. The thousands of people noted above do not include

a series of nonviolent drug sales. Although less-violent and

after being convicted of a crime classified as “violent” (such as
a conviction for assault after a bar fight), nor do the numbers
include “de facto” LWOP sentences that exceed the convicted
person’s natural lifespan, such as a sentence of 350 years for
de facto LWOP cases fall outside of the scope of this report,
they remain a troubling manifestation of extreme sentencing
policies in this country.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses

Nonviolent Crimes that Result in
Life-without-Parole sentences
We documented scores of cases in which people were
sentenced to LWOP for nonviolent drug crimes of possession,
sale, or distribution of marijuana, methamphetamine, crack
and powder cocaine, heroin, or other drugs, including the
following:
• � possession of a crack pipe
• � possession of a bottle cap containing a trace,
unweighable amount of heroin
• � having a trace amount of cocaine in clothes
pockets that was so minute it was invisible to
the naked eye and detected only in lab tests
• � having a single, small crack rock at home

“

I think a life sentence
for what you have done in
this case is ridiculous. It is
a travesty. I don’t have any
discretion about it. I don’t
agree with it, either. And
I want the world and the
record to be clear on that.
This is just silly. But as I say, I
don’t have any choice.”4
—Federal District Court Judge James r.
Spencer, to Landon Thompson*, while
sentencing him to mandatory life without parole
for selling small amounts of crack cocaine at a
time, over a period of weeks, out of a hotel room
in a run-down section of richmond in order to
support his drug addiction

* Pseudonym used at prisoner’s request.

American Civil Liberties Union

• � possession of 32 grams of marijuana with
intent to distribute
• � acting as a go-between in the sale of $10 of
marijuana to an undercover officer
• � selling a single crack rock
• � verbally negotiating another man’s sale of two
small pieces of fake crack to an undercover
officer
• � serving as a middleman in the sale of $20 of
crack to an undercover officer
• � sharing several grams of LsD with Grateful
Dead concertgoers
• � having a stash of over-the-counter
decongestant pills that could be manufactured
into methamphetamine

In cases documented by the ACLU, the nonviolent property
crimes that resulted in life-without-parole sentences include
the following:
• � attempting to cash a stolen check
• � a junk-dealer’s possession of stolen junk
metal (10 valves and one elbow pipe)
• � possession of stolen wrenches
• � siphoning gasoline from a truck
• � stealing tools from a tool shed and a welding
machine from a yard
• � shoplifting three belts from a department
store
• � shoplifting several digital cameras
• � shoplifting two jerseys from an athletic store
• � taking a television, circular saw, and a power
converter from a vacant house
• � breaking into a closed liquor store in the
middle of the night
Other nonviolent crimes that resulted in life-without-parole
sentences include the following:
• � making a drunken threat to a police officer
while handcuffed in the back of a patrol car
• � possession of a firearm by a convicted felon
• � taking an abusive stepfather’s gun from their
shared home
These cases are not outliers or flukes. Sentencing nonviolent
offenders to die in prison is the direct outcome of harsh
sentencing laws. This is the end result of policies put in
place in the 1980s and 1990s: mothers and fathers separated
from their children forever, toddlers and teens left parentless
for a lifetime, aging and infirm parents left without family,
first-time nonviolent offenders permanently denied a second
chance, and young Black and low-income men and women
locked up for the rest of their lives at as young as 18 years old.

Who is serving Life without Parole
for Nonviolent Crimes?
In the cases we documented, the prisoners serving LWOP
are generally first-time drug offenders or nonviolent repeat
offenders. These nonviolent lifers include drug couriers;
drug addicts who sold small amounts of drugs in order to
support their addictions; petty thieves; and girlfriends or
wives who were caught up in the mass arrests of members
of drug conspiracies and, because they knew little about
their partners’ or ex-partners’ drug activities, were unable
to trade information for more lenient sentences. Some did
distribute large quantities of drugs but have been incarcerated
for decades and have demonstrated both remorse and
rehabilitation. Others were sentenced to LWOP for crimes
they committed as teenagers, in some cases for their minor
roles in drug conspiracies starting when they were as young
as 15 years old. Several are Vietnam War veterans who were
introduced to drugs during their military service and battled
addiction after leaving the military. The vast majority come
from poor families and did not graduate from high school.
Most are Black, and in some cases the circumstances of their
stop, search, and subsequent arrests appear to have involved
racial profiling. Some are mentally ill and imprisoned for
behavior directly related to their mental illnesses. Others
spiraled into drug addiction when they could not find work,
and some began selling drugs to pay the bills after they lost
their jobs or to pay off medical debts incurred when they
were uninsured.
Most of the nonviolent crimes for which these prisoners
are serving life without parole would be more appropriately
addressed outside of the criminal justice system altogether,
some by significantly shorter incarceration, and some with
more readily available drug treatment and mental health
resources. In many of the cases documented by the ACLU,
offenders committed their crimes because of drug addictions
and had never been offered state-sponsored drug treatment,
even during previous brief stints in jail and despite their
willingness to enter treatment. Many of these addicts told the
ACLU they asked for treatment after previous drug arrests
but were denied. When they reoffended, they were locked up
for the rest of their lives.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses

Racial Disparity in Life-withoutParole sentencing

fIGURE 1

Percent Black prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses by state
100%

According to data collected and analyzed by the ACLU, Black
prisoners comprise 91.4 percent of the nonviolent LWOP
prison population in Louisiana, 78.5 percent in Mississippi,
70 percent in Illinois, 68.2 percent in South Carolina, 60.4
percent in Florida, 57.1 percent in Oklahoma, and 60 percent
in the federal system. In the federal system, Blacks were
sentenced to LWOP for nonviolent crimes at 20 times the
rate of whites. In Louisiana, the ACLU’s survey found that
Blacks were 23 times more likely than whites to be sentenced
to LWOP for a nonviolent crime. The racial disparities range
from 33-to-1 in Illinois to 18-to-1 in Oklahoma, 8-to-1 in
Florida, and 6-to-1 in Mississippi.
TABLE 1

Times more likely Blacks sentenced to LWOP for a
nonviolent crime than whites

florida

7.94

Illinois

33.25

Louisiana

23.1

Mississippi

6.02

Oklahoma

17.97

south Carolina

5.25

federal system

20.38

American Civil Liberties Union

91%

Illinois

20%

Mississippi

40%

68%
60%

57%

60%

Federal

70%

Oklahoma

60%

Florida

79%

South Carolina

80%

Louisiana

There is a staggering racial disparity in life-without
parole sentencing for nonviolent offenses. Blacks are
disproportionately represented in the nationwide prison and
jail population, but the disparities are even worse among
the nationwide LWOP population and worse still among the
nonviolent LWOP population. Based on data provided by the
United States Sentencing Commission and state Departments
of Corrections, the ACLU estimates that nationwide, 65.4
percent of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
are Black, 17.8 percent are white, and 15.7 percent are Latino.
In the 646 cases examined for this report, the ACLU found
that 72.9 percent of these documented prisoners serving
LWOP for nonviolent offenses are Black, 19.8 percent are
white, and 6.9 percent are Latino.

The rate of Latinos serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
ranges from a high of 12.7 per 1,000,000 residents in Louisiana
to 9 in Oklahoma, 7.32 in Florida, 1.25 in Illinois, 11.24 in
the federal system, and 0 in South Carolina and Mississippi.
Latinos are serving life without parole for nonviolent crimes
at a rate that is almost 8 times the rate of whites in Illinois and
almost twice the rate of whites in Louisiana.
Blacks are sentenced to life without parole for nonviolent
offenses at rates that suggest unequal treatment and that
cannot be explained by white and Black defendants’ differential
involvement in crime alone.

Case studies
The following case studies, drawn from the hundreds of cases
documented by the ACLU, demonstrate the devastating impact
of LWOP sentences on people convicted of nonviolent crimes.
The federal prisoners serving life without parole for nonviolent
drug crimes whose cases are profiled in greater detail in this
report include the following:
Ricky Minor, a father of three and
self-described meth addict at the time
of his crime, was sentenced to life
without parole for attempting to
manufacture methamphetamine after
a gram of methamphetamine and
over-the-counter decongestants were
found in his home in the Florida
Panhandle. Under state law, he would
have faced a two-and-a-half-year

“

There’s an answer to this
without being so extreme. But
we’re still-living-20-years-ago
extreme. Throw the human
away. He’s worthless. Boom:
up the river. And yet, he didn’t
even kill anybody. He didn’t do
anything, but he just had an
addiction he couldn’t control
and he was trying to support it
robbing. That’s terrible to rob
people—I’ve been robbed, I
hate it. I want something done
to him. But not all his life.
That’s extreme. That’s cruel and
unusual punishment to me.”5
—Burl Cain, Warden, Louisiana State Penitentiary
at Angola

sentence, but he was indicted by a federal prosecutor after he
refused to cooperate by implicating others. Minor chose to
plead guilty after his lawyer advised him that refusal to do so
would likely trigger prosecution of his wife, which would have
left their children without parents. The federal sentencing
judge objected to the mandatory LWOP sentence, which he
said “far exceeds whatever punishment would be appropriate,”
but under the law he had no discretion to take into account the
circumstances of the case. Minor’s nuclear family has fallen
apart since his incarceration 12 years ago. He and his wife
divorced, and his stepson died of a drug overdose. Now long
sober, he remains extremely close with his daughter, a selfdescribed “daddy’s girl” who was only seven when he was
incarcerated. See case study p. 77

Clarence Aaron, a college student
with no prior criminal record, was
sentenced to three life-without-parole
sentences at age 23 for playing a minor
role in two planned large drug
deals—one of which did not take
place—in which he was not the buyer,
seller, or supplier of the drugs. While
in his final semester of college, Aaron
introduced a classmate to a cocaine
dealer he had known in high school, was present at one cocaine
sale, and traveled from Mobile to Houston with cash to
purchase cocaine for a planned drug purchase that did not
happen. He received a longer sentence than his more culpable
co-conspirators, all but one of whom have been released from

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses

prison (the last one is scheduled to be released in 2014). The
prosecutor and judge in Aaron’s case have both supported his
petition for commutation, a fact that was eliminated from the
commutation review by the federal government. Now 43,
Aaron has spent almost 20 years in prison. See case study p. 40
sharanda Purlette Jones, a
mother with no prior criminal record,
was sentenced to mandatory life
without parole for conspiracy to
distribute crack cocaine based almost
entirely on the testimony of co
conspirators who received reduced
sentences for their testimony. All 105
people arrested as part of the
conspiracy in her majority-white
Texas town were Black. Other than a taped phone call during
which she agreed to ask a friend where two government
informants might be able to buy drugs, there was no physical
evidence, including no drugs or video surveillance, presented
at trial to connect her to drug-dealing with her co
conspirators. She has been incarcerated for more than 14
years and carefully apportions her allotted 300 monthly
minutes for non-legal calls to speak 10 minutes each day with
her 22-year-old daughter, who was only nine when her
mother was imprisoned. See case study p. 41
The state prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
under three- and four-strikes laws whose cases are profiled in
this report include the following:
Kevin Ott is serving life without
parole for three-and-a-half ounces of
methamphetamine. When Ott was on
parole for marijuana charges, parole
officers found the drug and
paraphernalia in a warrantless search
of the trailer in which he was living.
He was sentenced to mandatory
LWOP under Oklahoma’s state
habitual drug offender law based on
prior convictions arising from two arrests, one for having a
small amount of meth in his pocket while exiting a bar, and
the other for possession and manufacture of marijuana.
During his incarceration after both of these arrests, he
repeatedly requested treatment for his drug addiction but was
denied. Now 50, Ott has served 17 years in prison and has

American Civil Liberties Union

stayed clean despite being ineligible for drug treatment due to
the fact that he will never be released from prison. See case
study p. 101
fate Vincent Winslow was homeless when he acted as a
go-between in the sale of two small bags of marijuana, worth
$10 in total, to an undercover police officer. Police did not
arrest the white seller, even though they witnessed the entire
transaction and found the marked bill used to make the
controlled drug buy in his pocket. Winslow, who is Black, was
sentenced to mandatory life without parole under Louisiana’s
four-strikes law based on prior convictions for simple
(unarmed) burglaries committed 14 and 24 years earlier and
a nearly decade-old conviction for possession of cocaine. See
case study p. 157
Timothy Jackson is serving life
without parole for shoplifting a jacket
worth $159 from a Maison Blanche
department store in New Orleans in
1996. Jackson, who was 36 at the time,
worked as a restaurant cook and had
only a sixth-grade education. A store
security agent followed Jackson, who
put the jacket down on a newspaper
stand and tried to walk away when he
realized he was being followed. At the time, Jackson’s crime
carried a two-year sentence for a first offender; it now carries
a six-month sentence. Instead, the court sentenced Jackson to
mandatory life without parole, using a two-decades-old
juvenile conviction for simple (unarmed) robbery and two
simple car-burglary convictions to sentence him under
Louisiana’s four-strikes law. Jackson has served 16 years in
prison. See case study p. 116
Paul Carter has been incarcerated
for 16 years, serving life without
parole for possession of a trace
amount of heroin residue that was so
minute it could not be weighed.
Carter began using drugs at an early
age and struggled with heroin
addiction for years, but he never
received drug treatment before he was
sentenced to die in prison. Two New
Orleans police officers investigating narcotics activity at a
housing project observed Carter standing on a street corner,

searched him, and found a bottle cap in his coat pocket and a
piece of tin foil on the ground containing heroin residue. He
was sentenced under Louisiana’s three-strikes law because of
decade-old convictions for simple escape and possession of
stolen property. See case study p. 113
Lance saltzman is serving life
without parole for armed burglary
for taking his abusive stepfather’s gun
from the house where they both lived.
Saltzman, who was 21 at the time,
says he was trying to protect his
mother after his stepfather shot at her
and repeatedly used his gun to
threaten her. He was sentenced to
mandatory life without parole under
Florida’s Prison Releasee Reoffender Law because he
committed the crime within three years of his release from
prison for a burglary he committed when he was 16. See case
study p. 109
Hershel Miles Jr. was sentenced to
LWOP under Mississippi’s habitual
offender law for forgery and petit
larceny. Miles attempted to cash a
check bearing the signature of the
deceased husband of a woman whose
house had been burglarized several
days earlier. Miles was not accused of
the burglary, during which $250
worth of items, including a VCR and
video game console, were taken. See case study p. 105

The Immense Physical and
Psychological Toll of serving Life
without Parole
LWOP sentences have profound, negative psychological
impact on prisoners. In interviews with the ACLU, prisoners
reported feelings of unremitting hopelessness, loneliness,
anxiety, depression, fear, isolation from family and their
community, and suicidal thoughts. Many struggle to find
purpose or meaning in their lives. Some expressed the
wish for death so that their suffering would end, and some
reported contemplating or attempting suicide because of

Prisoners serving LWOP
reported feelings of
unremitting hopelessness,
loneliness, anxiety, depression,
fear, isolation from family and
their community, and suicidal
thoughts. Many struggle to
find purpose or meaning in
their lives.
the hopelessness of their sentences. Prisoners described the
anguish of being separated from family, being unable to be
present to parent their children or support aging and ailing
parents, missing funerals of parents and siblings who died
during their incarceration, being forgotten by friends and
family, and facing the prospect of growing old and dying in
prison without any hope for release.
Prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes variously
described their sentences as “a slow death sentence,” “a slow,
painful death,” “a slow, horrible, torturous death,” “akin to
being dead, without the one benefit of not having to suffer
any more,” “like you’re…a walking dead,” and “like you are
a living dead person on a [life] support machine.”6 Leland
Dodd, sentenced to LWOP more than two decades ago for
trying to buy 50 pounds of marijuana from an undercover
officer, explained, “You are dead. You don’t exist anymore…I
would be better off dead.”7 Libert Roland said of his LWOP
sentence for cocaine possession, “It feels like someone or
something is suffocating the life out of you slowly…the only
relief you have left, the only hope, is to die [a] fast death.”8
A life-without-parole sentence means society has given up
on a person, regardless of whether he or she exhibits any
capacity for growth or change. It robs these prisoners of
hope. It is essentially a sentence to die in prison: prisoners
are not released. These men and women are categorically
ineligible for parole, and once their post-conviction appeals
are exhausted, their only chance for release is rarely-granted
commutation or clemency by the president or governor of

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses

IN LOUISIANA
1 NONVIOLENT

LWOP OFFENDER

COSTS TAXPAYERS

$.5 MIL

their state or similarly infrequent compassionate release
shortly before they die. Without a date on which they know
they will be set free, prisoners wake up each day facing a
lifetime of imprisonment with no hope of release. They grow
old, fall ill, and eventually die behind bars. The sentence turns
prisons into geriatric wards where ailing, aging prisoners who
no longer pose any risk to society are warehoused until their
deaths.

The financial Cost of sentencing
Nonviolent Offenders to Life
without Parole
The ACLU estimates that the total fiscal cost-savings to
taxpayers if state and federal sentencing statutes were revised
to eliminate nonviolent offenses for eligibility for LWOP
sentences would be at least $1.784 billion. Under the ACLU’s
estimates, the federal prison system would save more than
$1.2 billion. In Louisiana alone, where a single nonviolent
offender currently serving LWOP will cost the Louisiana
taxpayers approximately half a million dollars over his or her
expected lifespan, the state would save $180 million in total if
its sentencing statutes were revised to eliminate life without
parole for nonviolent offenses.
The ACLU’s estimates cover the cost of imprisoning the
prisoners currently serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes;
they do not take into account the cost of incarcerating people
who will be sentenced to LWOP in the future. To arrive at
the $1.784 billion figure, we estimated how much will be
spent, in total, to incarcerate those individuals currently
serving LWOP and subtracted from this amount how much
we believe would instead have been spent to incarcerate

10 American Civil Liberties Union

these individuals if LWOP had not been available as a
possible sentence for a nonviolent offense under three-strikes
laws, mandatory sentencing schemes, or other sentencing
enhancements. This figure assumes that the time served in
state prison would have been 15 years for a drug offense,
12 years for a property offense, and 13.5 years for all other
nonviolent offense categories; it also assumes that the time
served in federal prison would have been 18 years for a drug
offense, 15 years for a property offense, and 16.5 years for all
other categories of nonviolent offenses. We subtracted the
costs of these prison terms to arrive at our final figure.
At a time when budgets are tight and states are struggling
to cut costs, paying to permanently incarcerate nonviolent
offenders gobbles up scarce budgetary resources. Spending
increasing amounts of money on imprisoning nonviolent
offenders for the rest of their lives means less money for the
institutions that could help young people stay out of trouble,
including education, drug treatment, job training, and
community policing programs.
The ACLU’s economic analyses of the fiscal cost of LWOP
sentencing laws and policies are conservative estimates. Our
data considers only the fiscal impact on state and federal
corrections budgets and does not in any way account for
additional costs incurred beyond the correctional system,
such as reductions in labor forces, reductions in tax revenues,
increases in healthcare needs due to the physical harm
caused by incarceration, and underemployment in already
economically-depressed neighborhoods, nor does the
data take into account the economic impact on prisoners’
fIGURE 2

Average incarceration rate per 100,000 adults
800

743
600

400

200

106
1930 to 1975

2011

families, many of which have lost the head of the family and
spend their savings or go into debt to finance legal efforts to
challenge their loved one’s conviction and sentence.

How Did We Get Here?
The prevalence of LWOP sentences for nonviolent offenses
is a symptom of the relentless onslaught of more than
four decades of the War on Drugs and “tough-on crime”
policies, which drove the passage of unnecessarily harsh
sentencing laws, including three-strikes provisions (which
mandate certain sentences for a third felony conviction)
and mandatory minimum sentences (which require judges
to punish people convicted of certain crimes by at least
a mandatory minimum number of years in prison). The
consequences of the United States’ late-twentieth-century
obsession with mass incarceration and extreme, inhumane
penalties are well-documented. From 1930 to 1975, the
average incarceration rate was 106 people per 100,000 adults
in the population. Between 1975 and 2011, the incarceration
rate rose to 743 per 100,000 adults in the population—the
highest incarceration rate in the world—with the total
number of people incarcerated in jails and prisons across the
country now surpassing 2.3 million.
This growth cannot be explained away by increasing crime
rates; although crime rose in the late 1960s, it did not rise
enough to explain the extreme spike in the incarceration rate,
and in the 1990s crime began to drop. Instead, there is now
near-universal consensus among experts that the United States
became the world’s largest incarcerator as the direct result of
deliberately punitive laws and policies—many of which arose
in the context of the 40-year failed War on Drugs—aimed at
some of the country’s most vulnerable populations.
LWOP was virtually nonexistent before the 1970s, but
it became prominent in the United States following the
Supreme Court’s 1972 decision in Furman v. Georgia,9 which
temporarily abolished the death penalty. Since then, life
without parole has grown to consume many more people than
it was first intended to punish. Today, 49 states have some form
of LWOP, up from 16 in the mid-1990s.10 Six states—Illinois,
Iowa, Louisiana, Maine, Pennsylvania, and South Dakota—and
the federal system have abolished parole for prisoners

sentenced to life, meaning that all life sentences in these
jurisdictions are imposed without the possibility of parole. In
Louisiana, one in nine inmates (11.5 percent) is serving a life
sentence without the possibility of parole, and in Pennsylvania
10 percent of its prison population is permanently
imprisoned.11 Over 49,000 prisoners—one of every 30 people
in prison—are serving life-without-parole sentences.

LWOP SENTENCES
QUADRUPLED FROM
12,453 IN 1992 TO

49,081 IN 2012

This has been one of the most rapidly growing populations in
the prison system. The number of people sentenced to LWOP
quadrupled nationwide between 1992 and 2012, from 12,453
to 49,081.12 The rate of growth of the LWOP population has
been nearly four times the percentage rise in people serving
parole-eligible life sentences.13 For example, in Louisiana, 143
people were serving LWOP sentences in 1970; the number
had increased to 4,637 by 2012.14
Today, the United States is virtually alone in its willingness
to sentence nonviolent offenders to die behind bars. It is
among a minority of countries (20 percent) known to have
LWOP sentences, while the vast majority of countries that
do provide for LWOP sentences place stringent restrictions
on when they can be issued and limit their use to crimes of
murder.15 Such sentences are rare in other countries and were
recently ruled a violation of human rights in a landmark
decision by the European Court of Human Rights that
would require an opportunity for review of the sentences of
the 49 prisoners serving LWOP (for murder) in the United
Kingdom—one of only two countries in Europe that still
sentence prisoners to LWOP.16 According to one study, the per
capita number of prisoners serving LWOP sentences in the
United States is 51 times that of Australia, 173 times that of
the United Kingdom, and 29 times that of the Netherlands.17
Even China and Pakistan provide for a review of life sentences
after 25 years’ imprisonment.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 11

“

Too many people go to too many
prisons for far too long for no good law
enforcement reason. We need to ensure
that incarceration is used to punish,
deter, and rehabilitate—not merely to
warehouse and forget.”18
— Attorney General eric Holder, August 2013
�

The Path Ahead
In far too many cases, imprisonment until death does not
serve these goals and constitutes disproportionately severe
punishment that violates human rights law, which has long
recognized that the punishment must fit the crime. Such
sentences violate fundamental human rights to humane
treatment, proportionate sentencing, and rehabilitation.
These unjust sentences may also constitute arbitrary
deprivations of liberty and a form of cruel, inhuman, or
degrading punishment.
Life without parole for nonviolent crimes disregards the
capacity for personal growth and rehabilitation and yields
minimal, if any, public safety gains, as studies show that rates
of recidivism decline precipitously with age. Moreover, because
of diminishing community drug treatment and mental health
resources, many individuals have been sent to prison who
do not actually belong there. Many of the people in the cases
examined by the ACLU posed little or no public safety risk, and
alternative forms of punishment—such as conditional release
under parole supervision or court-supervised drug treatment
and community supervision—or, in some cases, diversion
from the criminal justice system, would have been smarter, less
expensive, and more humane solutions.
Louisiana State Penitentiary Warden Burl Cain told the ACLU
he thinks it is “ridiculous” to foreclose the possibility of
rehabilitation:
I really think it’s ridiculous because the name

12 American Civil Liberties Union

of our business is “corrections,” but everybody
forgets what corrections means. It means to
correct deviant behavior, so if I’m a successful
warden and I do my job and we correct the
deviant behavior, then we should have a [parole]
hearing…If this person can go back and be
a productive citizen and not commit crimes
again, these nonviolent crimes, then why are we
keeping them here, spending all this money?19
“I need to keep predators in these big old prisons, not dying
old men,” Cain said. “So it’s ridiculous to have someone here
that…committed a nonviolent crime, all the way to the point
that I’m spending $400 a day on medicine for him when he can
be out back in the community and have health care there.”20
He added, “I’m real passionate about this because I’ve been a
warden 32 years…I have seen this. I know this business. I know
we can change lives. I know we can change people.”21
In August 2013, the American Correctional Association
passed a resolution supporting the elimination of mandatory
minimum sentencing policies, signaling that Cain is not alone
among corrections officials in his opposition to unnecessarily
extreme sentences.
The resulting waste of human life and taxpayer dollars, as
well as the destruction of families and communities that are
largely working-class and Black or Latino, are both reversible
and avoidable. States and the federal government can reduce
prison sentences and costs without compromising public
safety. Over the past few years, a quiet revolution has been
brewing in state capitals. Historically low crime rates and

depleted state coffers have led to a nascent consensus among
lawmakers and advocates across the ideological spectrum
that the United States’ addiction to incarceration is not
sustainable, effective, or humane. Republican governors
in cash-strapped states have been among those leading
the charge. States as varied as Texas, New York, Colorado,
and Michigan have passed reforms that have stabilized or
significantly reduced prison populations without seeing an
increase in crime.
Those who seek a fairer and less wasteful criminal justice
system must at a minimum demand that all states and
the federal government abolish the sentence of LWOP for
nonviolent offenses; eliminate mandatory LWOP sentences,
which tie judges’ hands; rescind three-strikes laws, which
often make no distinction between, for example, armed
assault and drug possession; and recalibrate drug policies.
The Bureau of Prisons and state Departments of Corrections
should conduct case-by-case reviews of federal and state
prisoners serving life without parole for nonviolent offenses
to determine if their continued incarcerations are in the
public interest. And finally, federal and state governments
should invest in prevention of imprisonment by providing
drug and mental health treatment, education, employment,
and job training to prevent criminality and recidivism.
Now is the time to eliminate the unfair and inhumane
punishment of life without the possibility of parole for
nonviolent offenses.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 13

II. Recommendations

ife-without-parole sentences for nonviolent offenses
defy common sense, are grotesquely out of proportion
to the conduct they seek to punish, and offend the
principle that all people have the right to be treated with
humanity and with respect for their inherent dignity. In
accordance with our values, commitment to sensible and
fair sentencing practices, respect for human dignity, and to
remedy the despair and destruction of family ties of people
punished so irrationally, we recommend that all states and
the federal government abolish the sentence of LWOP for
nonviolent offenses.22

In addition, definitions of “violent” vary across the country,
and are often so broad that they encompass conduct that
some people would not categorize as violent and that many
people would tend to view as meriting a punishment less
severe than life without parole. Accordingly, we recommend
that all states and the federal government define “violent
offense” to include only conduct that involves the use or
attempted use of physical force against another person.

TO CONGREss:
1. � End federal nonviolent LWOP sentences. Congress
should eliminate all existing laws that either mandate or
allow for a sentence of LWOP for a nonviolent offense.
2. � Make elimination of nonviolent LWOP sentences
retroactive and require resentencing. Congress
should make all such amendments retroactive and
require resentencing of all individuals currently serving
LWOP for a nonviolent offense in the federal system.
Upon resentencing, individuals must be resentenced to a
term less than life.
3. � Until federal nonviolent LWOP is eliminated,
amend 18 U.s.C. § 3582 for individuals serving
LWOP for nonviolent offenses. Congress should
amend 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1)(A) to allow prisoners
serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses to directly petition

14 American Civil Liberties Union

federal courts for resentencing (the provision currently
allows for resentencing only on motion of the Director of
the Bureau of Prisons, not on prisoners’ motions).
4. � Direct the sentencing Commission to amend
the sentencing Guidelines. Congress should direct
the U.S. Sentencing Commission to review the U.S.
Sentencing Guidelines to eliminate LWOP sentences for
nonviolent offenses.
5. � Enact comprehensive sentencing reform
legislation. Bipartisan federal legislation such as S.
619 and H.R. 1695, the Justice Safety Valve Act of 2013,
if passed, would allow judges to use more discretion
to determine whether a person—including many
individuals facing a term of mandatory LWOP for a
nonviolent offense—should be sentenced to a mandatory
minimum. Congress should pass this pending legislation.
6. � Require fiscal impact statements in any future
proposal to expand or constrict LWOP sentences
for nonviolent offenses. Congress should require the
U.S. Sentencing Commission to develop accurate and
complete fiscal impact analyses for all bills that may
have the effect of expanding the availability of LWOP
for nonviolent offenses. Fiscal impact statements should
project the fiscal costs of such bills at least five years into
the future.

TO THE ADMINIsTRATION:
1. � Use the executive clemency power to commute
LWOP sentences for nonviolent offenses. The
President should use the clemency power granted by
Article II, Section 2 of the Constitution to commute the
sentences of all individuals serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses.
2. � Until all federal nonviolent LWOP sentences are
commuted, prioritize certain nonviolent LWOP

cases for clemency consideration. If commutation
of all nonviolent LWOP sentences is unfeasible, in
exercising the clemency power, the President should
prioritize the following cases, taking into consideration
the recommendations of the Attorney General:23
i. �

First-time nonviolent prisoners serving LWOP

ii. � Prisoners who were sentenced to nonviolent
LWOP as teens and/or for illegal conduct that
began when they were juveniles
iii. � Prisoners sentenced to mandatory LWOP
sentences for nonviolent offenses
iv. � Prisoners convicted of crack cocaine offenses
before the FSA was enacted and serving LWOP,
but who are not eligible for retroactive sentence
reductions under FSA because they were
sentenced pursuant to mandatory sentences
unaffected by the FSA
v. �

Elderly or terminally ill prisoners serving
LWOP for nonviolent offenses

vi. � Prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
whose sentences were enhanced based on facts
other than those decided by the jury, and thus,
if they were sentenced today, would receive
shorter sentences24
3. � Expand releases of prisoners serving LWOP
for nonviolent offenses under existing law in
appropriate circumstances. 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1)(A)
allows for sentence modifications when the sentencing
court finds that extraordinary and compelling reasons
warrant a reduction or that the prisoner is at least 70
years of age and has served at least 30 years in prison and
is not a danger to the community, but only upon motion
of the Director of the Bureau of Prisons. Currently, this
authority is rarely exercised. Pursuant to its authority
under 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)(1)(A), BOP should file a
motion for sentence reduction under 18 U.S.C. § 3582(c)
(1)(A) for all prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses.

TO sTATE LEGIsLATUREs:
1. � Repeal all existing laws or the portions of such
laws that either allow for or mandate a sentence
of life without parole for a nonviolent offense.
Such laws should be repealed for nonviolent offenses,
regardless of whether LWOP operates as a function
of a three-strikes law, habitual offender law, or other
sentencing enhancement.
2. � Make any changes to sentencing laws retroactive
and require a resentencing for all people currently
serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses.
3. � Expand existing statutory mechanisms for
relief in appropriate individual cases. Existing
commutation, second look,25 and similar laws allowing
prisoners’ sentences to be reviewed should be expanded
to include the full array of people sentenced to LWOP
for nonviolent offenses, regardless of their prior criminal
histories. Decision makers must have the discretion
to review individual cases and determine when it is
appropriate to release prisoners, many of whom have
served decades for crimes that merit short prison terms
or even probation.

TO sTATE GOVERNORs:
1. � Expand the use of the clemency power to commute
the sentences of people serving sentences of
LWOP for nonviolent crimes.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 15

III. Methodology

his report draws from extensive research conducted
by the ACLU from September 2012 to August 2013.
It is based in part on data from the United States
Sentencing Commission, Federal Bureau of Prisons, and state
Departments of Corrections obtained pursuant to Freedom
of Information Act and open records requests filed by the
ACLU. This report is also based on telephone interviews
conducted by the ACLU, correspondence with prisoners
serving life without parole for nonviolent offenses, a survey of
prisoners serving life without parole for nonviolent offenses,
and media and court records searches.

from prisoners, their family members, or their attorneys.
Whenever possible, we reviewed Presentence Investigation
Reports, sentencing transcripts, prison disciplinary records,
and district court and appellate court decisions related to
the cases we documented, among other legal documents.
The ACLU did not have the resources necessary to obtain
Presentence Investigation Reports, trial transcripts,
sentencing transcripts, and other court records for every case
reviewed for this research.

The ACLU filed Freedom of Information Act and open
records requests with the United States Sentencing
Commission, Federal Bureau of Prisons, and state
Departments of Corrections. The ACLU requested the
numbers of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses,
the numbers of prisoners serving such sentences pursuant
to habitual offender statutes, the races of the prisoners
serving such sentences, these prisoners’ current ages and
ages at admission, and the offenses for which these prisoners
were sentenced to LWOP. We received the data from June
2012 to March 2013. The Departments of Corrections of
Delaware, Nevada, and Virginia did not provide any of the
data requested by the ACLU. The Departments of Corrections
of Alabama and Louisiana did not provide race data for
prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses. Independent
ACLU research determined that the list of prisoners serving
LWOP for nonviolent offenses provided by the Florida
Department of Corrections included numerous prisoners
who were sentenced to LWOP for violent crimes; the ACLU
excluded these prisoners from the data provided in this
report.

The ACLU conducted 123 telephone interviews with
prisoners serving life without parole for nonviolent offenses.
These prisoners were incarcerated in 111 federal and state
prisons. The ACLU also interviewed parents, children, and
other close relatives of prisoners, and we spoke with the
attorneys for the prisoners we interviewed who have legal
representation. The ACLU also corresponded with more
than 646 prisoners serving life without parole for nonviolent
crimes by mail; CorrLinks, the Federal Bureau of Prisons
e-mail system; and JPay, an e-mail system for corresponding
with prisoners incarcerated in state prisons. The ACLU
repeatedly requested access to interview prisoners in person
at the Louisiana State Penitentiary in Angola, Louisiana,
because the prison has one of the largest—if not the largest—
populations of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
crimes in the country. Despite repeated requests filed with
the warden of the prison and the Louisiana Secretary of
Corrections and a trip to the prison in June 2013, the warden
and Secretary of Corrections denied the ACLU in-person
access. Moreover, the prison administration refused to allow
the ACLU to speak over the telephone with any of the nearly
180 prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses at the
facility.

The ACLU documented the name, offense(s), prisoner
number, prison where incarcerated, race, and sex of 646
prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses. In addition,
the ACLU used legal and press resources to research these 646
individual cases. In all cases, we reviewed any court records,
news articles, and Department of Corrections information
available online. In many of the cases documented by the
ACLU, we obtained court records and other legal documents

This report is also based on responses from an ACLU survey
mailed to 646 individuals serving life without parole for
nonviolent crimes. The ACLU received completed survey
responses from 355 prisoners currently serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses, representing over 10 percent of the
known population. The ACLU also received numerous
survey responses from additional prisoners who are eligible
for parole or were sentenced to LWOP for violent offenses;

16 American Civil Liberties Union

therefore, they were excluded from the data set. The survey
respondents were identified by the ACLU using data provided
to the ACLU by Departments of Corrections, inmate counsel
substitutes incarcerated in state prisons, online media and
court records searches, public defender offices, letters posted
in prison law libraries, word of mouth among prisoners, and
other advocacy organizations. Therefore, the resulting data
involves selection bias.
The ACLU surveyed all prisoners whom we were able to
identify as serving life without parole for nonviolent offenses;
it is impossible to know how those surveyed are similar or
different from other prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
crimes. The demographic and quantitative information
provided as a result of the survey is not generalizable to
a larger population of prisoners, but it represents the
experiences of the 355 prisoners whose cases were examined
for this quantitative research. Moreover, the ACLU was
unable to identify any prisoners serving LWOP in the states
of Alabama, Georgia, or Illinois. Despite these limitations, the
surveys and our research provide important insights into the
circumstances of many prisoners serving life without parole
for nonviolent crimes.
Some of the information contained in this report is
self-reported by prisoners. The ACLU cross-checked and
corroborated information for accuracy whenever possible.
Where prisoners’ letters, e-mails, or survey responses are
quoted, we have corrected spelling and grammatical errors.
The methodology for the ACLU’s analysis of the fiscal cost
of sentencing people to life without parole for nonviolent
offenses is detailed in Section VIII of this report.

DEfINING “LIfE WITHOUT
PAROLE”
For the purposes of this report, the ACLU has defined “life
without parole” to include only formal LWOP sentences.
However, it is crucial to note that other death-in-prison
sentences have increased exponentially in the United States
as well. These are sentences given in a term of years—for
instance, 100 years—that, in practice, amount to de facto
life-without-parole sentences.26 Also, sentences that run
consecutively can add up to prison sentences that exceed an

offender’s natural lifespan thus ensuring that the prisoner
will die in prison before reaching his or her date of parole
eligibility or release. In such cases, because of the length of
the sentence and the age of the offender, the projected release
date is most certainly after his or her death.

Although about 100,000
people serving life sentences
technically retain the
possibility of parole, the steady
elimination of meaningful
parole consideration over
the past few decades has
effectively transformed many
life sentences into LWOP
sentences. For example, over
the past decade, the California
Board of Parole Hearings has
denied 98 percent of lifers’
parole petitions it has heard.
Moreover, although about 100,000 people serving life
sentences technically retain the possibility of parole, the steady
elimination of meaningful parole consideration over the past
few decades has effectively transformed many life sentences
into LWOP sentences, even for prisoners who can demonstrate
their rehabilitation and fitness for release. The politicization
of parole decisions has made review boards and governors
extremely reluctant to grant parole, making it increasingly
difficult for prisoners serving life sentences to be released
on parole.27 Finally, many states and the federal government
have abolished parole release discretion, which has effectively
converted many life sentences into life without parole.
Throughout the country, parole-eligible lifers are routinely
denied parole. For example, over the past decade, the
California Board of Parole Hearings has denied 98 percent
of lifers’ parole petitions it has heard.28 Moreover, the board’s

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 17

decisions may be reversed by the state governor. In 2007, of
the more than 31,000 prisoners serving life sentences with
the possibility of parole, more than 8,800 had passed their
minimum eligible parole dates, but the board found only
172 lifers suitable for parole; of these 172 prisoners, the
governor let only 37 parole release decisions stand, meaning
only around 0.1 to 0.2 percent of lifers were released that
year.29 While the parole grant rate has increased in California
in recent years, the length of time prisoners must wait for a
subsequent hearing when denied parole has also increased.30
The number of people serving death-in-prison sentences after
being convicted of nonviolent crimes is not known, but it is
most certainly higher than the number of prisoners serving
formal life-without-parole sentences for nonviolent crimes.
Although such de facto LWOP sentences are outside the scope
of this report, they raise the same urgent issues of fairness
and proportionality.

DEfINING “NONVIOLENT”
The question of what constitutes a nonviolent offense is not
a simple one. Some state legislatures’ and federal and state
courts’ definitions of violent crimes are so expansive that
crimes that are commonly understood to be nonviolent are
legally classified as violent. For example, although the term
“violent crime” brings to mind very serious offenses such as
rape and murder,31 some jurisdictions define violent crime
to include burglary, breaking and entering, manufacture or
sale of controlled substances, possession of a firearm by a
convicted felon, or extortion.32 Still others include any offense
involving the use, threat, or risk of force against the person or
property of another in the definition of violent crime.33
Moreover, calculating the gap between our data and the true
number of people serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses is
next to impossible because although nearly every statutory
definition of violence covers a small group of clearly violent
offenses, the extent to which different jurisdictions opt to
expand that definition is unpredictable and haphazard. The
result is a nationwide patchwork of statutory and judicial
definitions of violence, some of which vary depending on
context, and very few of which seem to have been informed
by a reasoned legislative determination of which crimes truly
merit the most severe sentences.

18 American Civil Liberties Union

Some state legislatures’ and
federal and state courts’
definitions of violent crimes
are so expansive that crimes
that are commonly understood
to be nonviolent are legally
classified as violent.
Compounding the problem is the fact that judicial
interpretations of what constitutes violent offenses can vary
widely. In interpreting sentencing laws that impose enhanced
penalties on defendants with prior convictions for “violent
crime,” some courts have broadly defined violent crime to
include burglary of an unoccupied dwelling, drunk driving,
obstruction of justice, or fleeing a law enforcement officer,
among other offenses. Lower federal courts have disputed the
definitions of the meaning of the terms “violent crime” or
“crime of violence” used in several federal laws. For instance,
lower federal courts have interpreted federal statutes to find
offenses such as the failure to report to a halfway house,34
theft or attempted theft of an unoccupied car,35 tampering
with a car,36 or walking away from a prison honor camp37
to be violent felonies. Lower federal courts have disagreed
over whether it is a “violent felony” under the Armed Career
Criminal Act to attempt or conspire to commit burglary,38
retaliate against a government officer,39 carry a concealed
weapon,40 possess a sawed-off shotgun as a felon,41 commit
statutory rape,42 or tamper with or make unauthorized use of
an automobile.43
These inconsistent and overbroad definitions of violence create
confusion and obfuscate sentencing practices, which makes
calculating the true number of people serving LWOP for crimes
that did not involve an act of violence nearly impossible.
For the purposes of collecting and analyzing data and
documenting cases for this report, the ACLU classifies
crimes as nonviolent if they do not involve the use or threat
of physical force against a person. Under this definition,
violent crimes include murder and attempted murder;
manslaughter; sexual assault and other sexual abuse crimes;

assault; battery; robbery (defined as theft through the use of
force); kidnapping; false imprisonment; carjacking; and other
crimes against persons. As defined in this report, violent
crimes also include some weapons offenses, such as unlawful
discharge of a weapon and unlawful throwing, placing, or
discharging of a destructive device or bomb. In addition, the
ACLU has excluded all sex crimes from the data on LWOP for
nonviolent offenses, including sex crimes—such as possession
of child pornography—that do not inherently involve an act
of violence against another but in which the sexual nature
of these offenses inflicts a kind of harm grave enough to set
them apart from other nonviolent offenses.
Under the definition used throughout this report, nonviolent
crimes include property crimes such as larceny, vehicle
theft, burglary, possession or receipt of stolen property
or goods, shoplifting, trespass, embezzlement, criminal
mischief, criminal damage, issuing a bad check, tax crimes,
identity theft, fraud, forgery, criminal impersonation, money
laundering, stolen vehicle offenses, and illegal use, theft, or
unlawful reproduction of a credit card. Nonviolent crimes
as defined in this report also include drug offenses such as
possession, possession with intent to distribute, manufacture,
sale, and trafficking of controlled substances; financial crimes
such as bribery, extortion, and racketeering; and public-order
offenses such as violation of probation or parole, obstruction
of criminal justice processes, illegal gambling, driving
while intoxicated, disorderly conduct, prostitution, public
indecency, carrying a firearm without a permit, illegal sale of
a firearm, and criminal possession of weapons.
Under this report’s definition of nonviolent, there is a strong
likelihood that there are individuals serving LWOP for
offenses that are statutorily classified as “violent” but that
were not based on conduct that actually involved violence. As
a result, the data in this report on LWOP sentences for crimes
defined as “nonviolent” understates the scope of the problem.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 19

IV. findings:

The Use of Life without
Parole for Nonviolent Crimes

he number of people sentenced to life without parole
has quadrupled nationwide in the past 20 years, even
while violent crime has been declining during that
period. Not only has the use of life-without-parole sentences
exploded, but the punishment is available for a broader
range of offenses, and those sentenced to LWOP include
people convicted of nonviolent crimes, including low-level
nonviolent offenses. According to data collected and analyzed
by the ACLU, 3,278 prisoners are serving LWOP for drug,
property, and other nonviolent crimes in the United States
as of 2012. Our data on the people serving LWOP shows
marked geographic and socioeconomic patterns, and reveals
stark racial disparity in life-without-parole sentencing for
nonviolent offenses.

RIsE IN LIfE-WITHOUTPAROLE sENTENCEs
Until the 1970s, life without parole was a very rare sentence—it
appeared in few statutes in few states, and judges and juries
almost never imposed it.44 That changed when the U.S.
Supreme Court temporarily banned the death penalty in 1972.
With the death penalty ruled unconstitutional, some states
looked for an alternative sentence for the most heinous crimes
and settled on life without parole, the second-most severe
sentence available.45
Since then, the use of life without parole has exploded
nationwide. The number of people serving LWOP increased
from a number the American Law Institute describes as
“vanishingly small” in the 1960s to 12,453 in 1992; it then
tripled to 41,095 by 2008.46 Since 2008, the population of
prisoners serving LWOP has increased 22.2 percent.47 Today,
more than 49,000 prisoners—one out of every 30 people in
prison—are serving life-without-parole sentences.48
Prisoners serving LWOP comprise one of the most rapidly
growing populations in the prison system—since 1992, the

20 American Civil Liberties Union

3,278 prisoners are serving
LWOP for drug, property, and
other nonviolent crimes in
the United States as of 2012.
increase in their numbers is nearly double the rise in the total
prison population and more than double the rise in people
serving parole-eligible life sentences.49 The change has been
even more pronounced in certain states. In Louisiana, just 143
people were serving LWOP sentences in 1970; that number
had increased to 4,637 by 2012.50 LWOP is now used in 49
states, up from 16 in the mid-1990s.51 Six states—Illinois, Iowa,
Louisiana, Maine, Pennsylvania, and South Dakota—and the
federal system have abolished parole for prisoners sentenced
to life, meaning that all life sentences in these jurisdictions are
imposed without the possibility of parole. In Louisiana, 10.9
percent of the prison population is permanently imprisoned;
in Pennsylvania, the percentage is 9.4.52
LWOP has not only expanded to nearly every state but also
is an available sentence for many more crimes. In 37 states
and in the federal system, a life-without-parole sentence is
available for non-homicide offenses, including convictions
for selling drugs, burglary, robbery, carjacking, and battery.53
In 29 states, an LWOP sentence is mandatory upon conviction
of particular crimes, thus denying judges any discretion to
consider the circumstances of the crime or the defendant.54
In some states—such as Alabama, Florida, Iowa, Louisiana,
Mississippi, Oklahoma, South Carolina, and Washington—
LWOP is mandatory under so-called “habitual offender”
laws that apply upon a felony conviction if the person has
previously been convicted of certain prior felonies,55 which
need not be serious or even violent in many of these states.
Under Louisiana’s Habitual Offender Law, for instance, the
state requires mandatory life without parole upon conviction
of a third drug offense if the third and prior offenses carry

a sentence of 10 years or more. Third-time possession of
marijuana, even of a single joint, carries up to a 20-year
sentence. Growing a single marijuana plant carries a sentence
of up to 30 years. Either offense could trigger a sentence of
mandatory life without parole. Moreover, a conviction of
conspiracy to distribute most drugs (including marijuana),
no matter how minor the defendant’s role, will subject a
defendant to life without parole if the prosecutor charges him
or her as a habitual offender.
The net result of this expansion is that LWOP is now used
at historically high levels to punish people who at one
time would have received much more lenient sentences.
In addition, people sentenced to LWOP are robbed of the
opportunity for release, which is rooted in the belief that
people have the capacity for growth and rehabilitation and
the ability to successfully reintegrate into society. Indeed,
studies show that lifers who are released are very unlikely
to commit new crimes.56 A sentence to life without parole,
however, means the prisoner has no prospect of release
in his or her lifetime, regardless of his or her efforts at
rehabilitation: virtually every person sentenced to LWOP dies
in prison.

NONVIOLENT CRIMEs THAT
REsULT IN LIfE-WITHOUTPAROLE sENTENCEs
As a result of the expansion of the crimes eligible for LWOP
sentences to include a greater range of offenses, even people
convicted of low-level nonviolent offenses are punished
with LWOP sentences, often because of prior convictions.
For example, the ACLU documented cases in which people
were sentenced to LWOP for simple possession of the
following drugs or drug paraphernalia: a crack pipe; a trace,
unweighable amount of heroin in a bottle cap;57 less than
half a gram of cocaine;58 a trace amount of cocaine in clothes
pockets that was so minute it was invisible to the naked eye
and detected only in lab tests;59 a single, small crack rock at
home;60 two rocks of crack cocaine;61 and a small amount of
heroin in tin foil.62 Marijuana crimes that resulted in LWOP
sentences include possession of 32 grams,63 130 grams,64 or
two pounds65 with intent to distribute; acting as a go-between
in the sale of $10 of marijuana to an undercover officer;66 and

serving as a middleman in a sale of $20 worth of marijuana to
an undercover officer.67
In cases documented by the ACLU, nonviolent property
crimes that resulted in life-without-parole sentences include
forgery and petit larceny by attempting to cash a check found
to have been stolen;68 a junk-dealer’s possession of stolen junk
metal (10 valves and one elbow pipe);69 possession of stolen
wrenches;70 siphoning gasoline from a truck;71 stealing tools
from the back of a truck;72 possession of a few pieces of stolen
jewelry, a cordless telephone, and an amplifier;73 stealing
tools from a tool shed and a welding machine from a yard;74
stealing a money bag from a desk drawer in a municipal
building;75 shoplifting a computer from a Walmart;76
shoplifting three belts from a department store;77 shoplifting

Studies show that lifers who
are released are very unlikely
to commit new crimes. LWOP,
however, means the prisoner
has no prospect of release, re
gardless of his or her efforts at
rehabilitation: virtually every
person sentenced to LWOP
dies in prison.
several digital cameras from a Walmart;78 shoplifting two
jerseys from an athletic store;79 shoplifting a jacket worth $159
from a department store;80 slashing tires in the lot of a used
car dealer;81 breaking into a parked car and stealing a bag
containing a woman’s lunch;82 stealing a wallet from a hotel
room;83 stealing a car radio from a 16-year-old car;84 taking a
television, circular saw, and a power converter from a vacant
house;85 possession of a stolen car;86 borrowing a co-worker’s
truck without permission;87 and kicking in the back door of a
house and entering it in an aborted daytime burglary.88
Other drug crimes that have resulted in LWOP sentences
include having three and a half ounces of methamphetamine

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 21

at home;89 having an ounce of cocaine and three marijuana
cigarettes at home;90 selling a single crack rock; verbally
negotiating another man’s sale of two small pieces of
fake crack to an undercover officer;91 buying four ounces
of methamphetamine for personal use;92 serving as a
middleman in the sale of $20 of crack to an undercover
officer;93 selling less than a third of a gram of crack cocaine94
or $10 worth of crack cocaine95 to a confidential informant
within a half-mile of a school; selling $60 worth of crack
cocaine to a confidential informant near a building that
used to be a school;96 selling eight grams of crack cocaine
near a school;97 distribution of one-tenth of a gram of crack
cocaine; selling $10 worth of crack cocaine to an undercover
police officer; distribution of several grams of LSD to
Grateful Dead concertgoers;98 having a stash of over-the
counter decongestant pills that could be manufactured into
methamphetamine;99 and other crimes of possession, sale,
or distribution of marijuana, methamphetamine, crack and
powder cocaine, heroin, or other drugs.

Other nonviolent crimes that resulted in life-without-parole
sentences include making a drunken threat to a police officer
while handcuffed in the back of a patrol car;100 possession of a
firearm by a convicted felon;101 taking an abusive stepfather’s
gun from their shared home;102 damaging a police patrol car
while trying to flee after shoplifting soap and Alka-Seltzer from
a grocery store;103 colliding with two patrol cars while being
chased by police trying to carry out a traffic stop;104 breaking into
a parked car and stealing a gun inside it;105 and breaking into a
closed liquor store in the middle of the night with a gun.106

WHO Is sERVING LWOP fOR
NONVIOLENT CRIMEs: THE
NUMBERs
The ACLU’s research has found that 3,278 prisoners are
serving LWOP for drug, property, and other nonviolent

TABLE 2

Inmates serving life without parole for nonviolent offenses compared to total serving LWOP, classified by jurisdiction
Jurisdiction

Inmates serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses (2012)

Total LWOP inmates (2012)

Percent of total LWOP
population serving for
nonviolent offenses

federal system

2,074

4,058

51.1%

Alabama

244

1,507

16.2%

Delaware

Unknown

386

Unknown

florida

270

7,992

3.4%

Georgia

813

2.5%

Illinois

1,600

0.6%

Louisiana

429

4,637

9.25%

Mississippi

1,518

6.1%

Missouri

1,063

0.09%

Nevada

Unknown

491

Unknown

Oklahoma

780

6.3%

south Carolina

988

8.9%

Virginia

Unknown

774

Unknown

Total

3,278

26,607

12.3%

Source: Nonviolent LWOP data provided to the ACLU by state Departments of Corrections and the Federal Bureau of Prisons. Total
LWOP data from The Sentencing Project.107

22 American Civil Liberties Union

crimes in the United States as of 2012. Nearly two-thirds
of these prisoners—63 percent—are in the federal system.
Under current law, 22 states permit LWOP sentences for
certain nonviolent crimes.108 In nine of these states, prisoners

are currently serving life-without-parole sentences for a
nonviolent offense, based on data provided to the ACLU by
state Departments of Corrections. Of the states that sentence
nonviolent offenders to LWOP, Louisiana, Florida, Alabama,

TABLE 3

LWOP prisoners classified by nonviolent offense category and jurisdiction
�
Jurisdiction

LWOP prisoners —nonviolent
drug offenses (2012)

LWOP prisoners—nonviolent
property offenses (2012)

LWOP prisoners – other
nonviolent offenses

federal system

1,989

Alabama

171

florida

203

Georgia

Illinois

Louisiana

367

Mississippi

Missouri

Oklahoma

south Carolina

Total

2,578

652

Source: Data provided by state Departments of Corrections and the Federal Bureau of Prisons.

fIGURE 3

Total number of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses (2012)

0
0
10

Data Not Provided
NA*

0
0

0
93

244

1-150
151-300

301+

429
270

*Under current law, LWOP is not available as a
sanction for nonviolent offenses.

Federal System: 2,074

SOURCE: Data provided by state Departments of
Corrections and the Federal Bureau of Prisons.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 23

TABLE 4

Mississippi, South Carolina, and Oklahoma have the highest
numbers of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes.
The Departments of Corrections of Delaware, Virginia, and
Nevada did not provide data requested by the ACLU; because
these three states allow or mandate LWOP sentences for
certain nonviolent offenses, the total number of nonviolent
LWOP prisoners nationwide is likely higher than the ACLU’s
data suggests.

Prisoners admitted to federal prison from 1999
to 2011 to serve LWOP sentences for nonviolent
offenses, classified by nonviolent offense category
Total federal nonviolent LWOP
admissions to prison, 1999-2011

2,948

100%

Drug offenses

2,034

69.0%

firearms offenses

588

19.9%

Auto theft offenses

1.2%

Larceny offenses

0.03%

fraud offenses

0.1%

Money laundering offenses

0.03%

Racketeering/extortion offenses

245

8.3%

Civil rights offenses

0.1%

Immigration offenses

0.2%

Administration of justice offenses

0.8%

Traffic and other offenses

0.3%

In the federal system, more than half (51.1 percent) of the
total population of prisoners currently serving LWOP are
serving their sentences for nonviolent offenses. Between 1999
and 2011, 3,465 prisoners were admitted to federal prison
to serve LWOP sentences; 2,948 of them were convicted of
nonviolent offenses, indicating that nonviolent offenders
could account for as much as 85 percent of the federal prison
population that was sentenced to life in prison without the
possibility of parole during that 13-year period.
In at least five states (Alabama, Louisiana, South Carolina,
Oklahoma, and Mississippi), the number of people serving
LWOP for nonviolent offenses is more than five percent of
the total population of prisoners serving LWOP. In Alabama,
more than 15 percent of the total LWOP population is serving
the sentence for a nonviolent offense.

Source: Data provided by the United States Sentencing Commission.

TABLE 5

Number of people sentenced to LWOP for a nonviolent offense as a habitual offender, classified by jurisdiction
and offense type
Jurisdiction

Total prisoners
sentenced to LWOP
as habitual offenders

Drug
offense

Property
offense

Other
nonviolent
offense

Percent of total prison
population serving LWOP
for nonviolent crimes

federal system

780

602

175

26.5%

Alabama

158

114

64.7%

florida

105

38.9%

Illinois

20%

Louisiana

175

108

Unknown

40.7%

Mississippi

76.3%

Missouri

100%

south Carolina

65.9%

Source: Data provided by state Departments of Corrections and the U.S. Sentencing Commission. Federal data is based on number of prisoners admitted to federal
prison from 1999 to 2011 to serve LWOP sentences for nonviolent offenses.

24 American Civil Liberties Union

Data by Offense Category

prisoners are serving LWOP are evenly divided among drug
and property offenses.

Of the prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
nationwide, 79 percent (2,577 prisoners) are serving LWOP
for nonviolent drug offenses. Of the 2,074 federal prisoners
serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses, 96 percent (1,989
prisoners) are serving LWOP for nonviolent drug offenses.
Of the 1,204 state prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses, 49 percent (589 prisoners) are serving LWOP for
nonviolent drug offenses.
According to data collected and analyzed by the ACLU, there
are geographic patterns in the types of nonviolent offenses
punished with LWOP sentences. In Alabama, Florida, and
South Carolina, the great majority of those serving LWOP
for a nonviolent offense were sentenced for property crimes.
In Louisiana, Oklahoma, Georgia, Illinois, and the federal
system, the great majority of prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent crimes had been convicted of nonviolent drug
offenses. In Mississippi, the nonviolent crimes for which

TABLE 6

Prisoners characterized as habitual offenders who
were admitted to federal prison from 1999 to 2011
to serve LWOP for nonviolent offenses, classified by
nonviolent offense category
Total federal nonviolent LWOP
admissions to prison characterized
as habitual offenders, 1999–2011

780

100%

Drug habitual

602

77.2%

firearms habitual

138

17.7%

Racketeering/extortion habitual

4.6%

Auto theft habitual

0.38%

Administration of justice habitual

0.13%

Civil rights habitual

fraud habitual

Immigration habitual

Larceny habitual

Money laundering habitual

Traffic and other habitual

Source: Data provided by the U.S. Sentencing Commission.

Between 1999 and 2011, 2,034 prisoners were admitted to
federal prison to serve LWOP sentences for nonviolent drug
crimes. According to data the ACLU received from the U.S.
Sentencing Commission on the prisoners admitted to federal
prisons between 1999 and 2011 to serve LWOP, 588 were
sentenced to LWOP for a nonviolent firearms offense and
245 were sentenced to LWOP for a nonviolent racketeering
or extortion offense during that 13-year period. (Note that
the total number of admissions to prison does not equal the
total number of current prisoners. For instance, the Bureau of
Prisons reported to the ACLU that there are 1,989 prisoners
serving LWOP for a drug offense as of 2012. The discrepancy
can likely be explained by events such as successful postconviction appeals, commutations of sentence, and prisoner
deaths.)

Habitual Offenders
In the cases of jurisdictions for which the ACLU received data
about prisoners sentenced to LWOP as habitual offenders,
about half of those serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
nationwide were sentenced under three-strikes and other
habitual offender laws enacted as early as the beginning of the
1970s that punish individuals for repeat offenses. Louisiana,
Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and South Carolina are among
the states with the highest numbers of prisoners serving
LWOP for nonviolent crimes nationwide, largely because of
these states’ harsh habitual offender laws that mandate LWOP
sentences for repeat offenders. Although the Oklahoma
Department of Corrections did not provide data to the ACLU
on prisoners serving LWOP who have been categorized as
habitual offenders, the ACLU’s research indicates that the
prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses in Oklahoma
must have been sentenced under a state habitual offender law.
Nearly one out of three federal drug prisoners serving
LWOP had their sentences enhanced as so-called “career
offenders.”109 Between 1999 and 2011, 26.5 percent (780
prisoners) of the 2,948 prisoners admitted to federal prison to
serve LWOP sentences for nonviolent crimes were categorized
as habitual offenders. The great majority (77.2 percent) of
these prisoners were sentenced to LWOP for drug offenses.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 25

Mandatory LWOP sentences and
first-Time Offenders serving LWOP
The overwhelming majority of the LWOP sentences of
prisoners surveyed by the ACLU (81.3 percent) were
mandatory. This number was even higher in the federal
system (91.1 percent) and was slightly lower in the states (75.8
percent). However, the lower number for the state system
represents the average of a high variance between states—in
Florida, only 58.8 percent of surveyed nonviolent LWOP
sentences were mandatory, but in Louisiana, 97.6 percent of
surveyed nonviolent LWOP sentences were mandatory.
According to data provided by state Departments of
Corrections, 26 and 18 first-time offenders are serving
TABLE 7

Age at the time of the nonviolent crime that resulted
in an LWOP sentence, based on ACLU survey
Age

Number
of survey
respondents

Percent
of survey
respondents

20 or younger

5.4%

21-30

133

37.5%

31-40

138

38.9%

41 or older

18.3%

Source: ACLU survey of 355 prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses.

TABLE 8

Time served to date by prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses, based on ACLU survey
Years
incarcerated
to date

Number of
prisoners

Percentage
of prisoners
surveyed

5 or fewer

12.7%

5-10

20.1%

10-15

22.4%

15-20

26.1%

More than 20

18.5%

Source: ACLU survey of 353 prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses (two
additional survey respondents did not answer the question).

26 American Civil Liberties Union

LWOP for their first offenses in Louisiana and Mississippi,
respectively. The Alabama and Florida state Departments
of Corrections did not provide data on first-time offenders.
While the Bureau of Prisons similarly did not provide data
on first-time offenders serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes,
18.5 percent—more than one in six—of the federal prisoners
surveyed by the ACLU are first-time offenders. Of state
prisoners surveyed by the ACLU, 96.4 percent of them had
prior convictions. In the cases of jurisdictions for which the
ACLU received data about habitual offender enhancements,
about half of the prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses were sentenced under habitual offender laws.

Age and Time served
Of the cases documented by the ACLU, prisoners ranged
in age from 18 to 57 when they were arrested for the
nonviolent offense for which they were sentenced to LWOP.
The oldest prisoner whose case the ACLU documented
is currently 91, and the youngest is 25. Based on data the
ACLU received from the U.S. Sentencing Commission and
state Departments of Corrections, the average prisoner
serving LWOP for a nonviolent crime was admitted to
prison in his or her late 30s and is currently in his or her
late 40s. In general, among jurisdictions surveyed by the
ACLU, the average and median ages at the time of the crime
for prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes was
around 32.110
In the cases documented by the ACLU, prisoners serving
LWOP for nonviolent crimes have been incarcerated between
three and 30 years in the federal system and between one
and 36 years in state prisons. In the cases surveyed for this
report, the average time spent in prison to date for the LWOP
sentence they are currently serving was 14.8 years. The
median length of time spent in prison to date for the LWOP
sentence they are currently serving was 16.4 years. Of the
federal prisoners, the average time spent in prison to date for
their LWOP sentence was 16 years, and the median length
of time served to date for their LWOP sentence was 19 years.
Of the state prisoners, the average time spent in prison to
date for their LWOP sentence was 13.6 years, and the median
length of time served to date for their LWOP sentence was 13

TABLE 9

up in low-income families and struggling to make ends
meet. Many of these prisoners defined themselves as lowincome and/or poor, and they also described facing serious
financial hardships during their childhoods and prior to
their incarcerations. Such anecdotal evidence supports other
research revealing a link between socioeconomic levels and
incarceration rates and harsh sentences.112

Highest grade in school completed prior to
incarceration, based on ACLU survey
Highest grade
completed

Number of
prisoners

Percentage
of prisoners
surveyed

Total
5th grade or below

1.4%

6th to 8th grade

15.4%

9th or 10th grade

103

29.9%

11th grade

14%

12th grade

22%

GED

6.7%

At least some college

10.7%

Moreover, the majority of the prisoners surveyed by the ACLU
reported being undereducated: 60.5 percent of those surveyed
dropped out of school before completing high school; among
state prisoners, 70 percent of survey respondents said they did
not complete high school. On average, prisoners surveyed in
the federal system had completed higher levels of education
than prisoners in the state system, having on average
completed twelfth grade or high school equivalency, whereas
prisoners in the state system had, on average, completed
school only through tenth grade. In the state system, 23.2
percent of the prisoners surveyed by the ACLU—more than
one in five—had education levels of eighth grade or below
prior to their incarcerations. Of the cases documented by the
ACLU, the lowest reported grade completed by a prisoner
before he was incarcerated was third grade.

federal
5th grade or below

0.8%

6th to 8th grade

5.4%

9th or 10th grade

23.3%

11th grade

15.5%

12th grade

28.7%

GED

7.0%

At least some college

19.4%

state
5th grade or below

1.9%

6th to 8th grade

21.3%

9th or 10th grade

33.8%

11th

13%

12th grade

18.1%

GED

6.5%

At least some college

5.6%

Mental Health and substance Abuse
Problems

Source: ACLU survey of 345 prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
(10 additional survey respondents did not answer the question).

years. To put these sentences in perspective, the average time
served for murder in the United States is 14 years.111

socioeconomic Disparities and
Education Levels
Although the ACLU’s survey did not quantify socioeconomic
background or income data, nearly all of the prisoners with
whom the ACLU spoke or corresponded reported growing

The majority—57.8 percent—of prisoners surveyed by the
ACLU reported that they believe substance abuse was a
factor in the commission of the crimes for which they were
sentenced to LWOP. This varied substantially between federal
and state prisoners. In the federal system, 40.2 percent of the
prisoners surveyed said they felt that substance abuse played
a role in their crimes. Among state prisoners, 68 percent
surveyed said that they felt that substance abuse played a role
in their crimes; in Louisiana, the number is 74.1 percent.
A small but significant number of prisoners reported to the
ACLU that their untreated or ineffectively treated mental
illness(es) played a role in the commission of the crimes
for which they were sentenced to LWOP. Twelve point one
percent of prisoners surveyed reported that they felt that
mental health problems played a role in their crimes. This
number was substantially higher among state prisoners than
it was in the federal system. In the federal system, 6.2 percent

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 27

of prisoners surveyed said that they felt that mental health
problems played a role in their crimes, while 15.6 percent of
state prisoners said that they felt that mental health problems
played a role in their crimes. In Florida, 22.6 percent of
prisoners surveyed—more than one in five—said that they
felt that mental health problems played a role in their crimes.
In some cases, the ACLU was able to corroborate prisoners’
claims about the relationship between their mental illnesses
and their crimes through the appellate record and trial and
sentencing transcripts (for example, expert testimony that
paranoid delusions caused the schizophrenic defendant to
run from police and collide with a patrol car, causing the

criminal damage for which the defendant was sentenced to
LWOP). In other cases, however, the ACLU has been unable
to independently corroborate the prisoners’ assertions.
In addition, 15.2 percent of surveyed prisoners serving
LWOP for nonviolent crimes reported that they had
been diagnosed with a major mental health issues prior
to their incarcerations. This number varied substantially
between those incarcerated in the federal system and those
incarcerated in state prisons. In the federal system, 6.4 percent
of the prisoners surveyed reported they had been diagnosed
with major mental health issues prior to their incarcerations,

TABLE 10

Race of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses, classified by jurisdiction
�
Jurisdiction

White

Black

Latino

Other

federal* system

16.4%

60%

21.1%

2.5%

482 prisoners

1,757 prisoners

624 prisoners

85 prisoners

Alabama**

Unknown

florida***

29.6%

60.4%

9.6%

<1%

80 prisoners
Illinois

10%

163 prisoners

70%

20%

1 prisoner
Louisiana****

7.5%

7 prisoners

91.4%
14 prisoners

Mississippi

20.4%

26 prisoners

0
2 prisoners

1.1%
171 prisoners

78.5%
19 prisoners

1 prisoner

0
2 prisoners

73 prisoners

1 prisoner

Missouri

Unknown

Oklahoma

36.7%

57.1%

18 prisoners
south Carolina

30.7%

28 prisoners

68.2%
27 prisoners

2 prisoners

0
60 prisoners

1 prisoner

1%
1 prisoner

Source: Data provided by state Departments of Corrections, except where indicated otherwise.
* racial composition of 2,948 prisoners admitted to federal prison between 1999
and 2011 and sentenced to LWOP for nonviolent offenses, based on data provided by
the U.S. Sentencing Commission. These figures do not represent the race of federal
prisoners currently serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses, which the Bureau of
Prisons refused to provide in response to a FOiA request filed by the ACLU.
** The Alabama Department of Corrections did not provide race data, and the ACLU
was unable to document sufficient cases to make any determinations about racial
disparity in Alabama.
*** Based on prisoners’ self-reported race in their responses to the ACLU survey,
which the ACLU cross-checked against a complete list of the names, Department

28 American Civil Liberties Union

of Corrections number, and race of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses
provided by the Florida Department of Corrections, the ACLU determined that the
Florida Department of Corrections miscategorized at least 17 Latino prisoners as
white. The data presented here corrects for these errors.

**** Based on ACLU documentation of the cases of 187 Louisiana prisoners
serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses, or 43.6% of the total 429 prisoners
serving the sentence for nonviolent crimes. The Louisiana Department of
Corrections did not provide offense-specific race data in response to a FOiA
request filed by the ACLU.

while 20.5 percent of state prisoners surveyed said they had
been diagnosed with major mental health issues prior to
their incarcerations. In Florida, 27.6 percent of the prisoners
surveyed—more than one in four—reported being diagnosed
with major mental health issues prior to incarceration.

RACIAL DIsPARITY IN
LIfE-WITHOUT-PAROLE
sENTENCING
There is stark racial disparity in life-without-parole
sentencing for nonviolent offenses. Based on data provided
by the United States Sentencing Commission and state
Departments of Corrections, the ACLU estimates that
nationwide, 65.4 percent of prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses are Black, 17.8 percent are white, and 15.7
percent are Latino. In the 646 cases examined for this report,
the ACLU found that 72.9 percent of these documented
prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses are Black,
19.8 percent are white, and 6.9 percent are Latino.

fIGURE 4

Race of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses, by jurisdiction
100

The percentage of Black prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses is 78.5 percent in Mississippi, 68.2
percent in South Carolina, 60.4 percent in Florida, and
57.1 percent in Oklahoma, according to data provided
by state Departments of Corrections. In Illinois, seven of
the 10 prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes are
Black. Although the Louisiana Department of Corrections
did not provide offense-specific race data in response to
an open records request filed by the ACLU, based on our
documentation of the cases of almost half of the state’s
population of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses, the ACLU found that a staggering 91.4 percent of
such prisoners are Black.
In the federal system, based on data provided by the U.S.
Sentencing Commission on the race and number of prisoners
admitted to federal prison from 1999 to 2011 to serve
LWOP sentences for nonviolent offenses, 60 percent of such
prisoners are Black, 21.1 percent are Latino, and 16.4 percent
are white. Table 10 shows the racial composition for each
state, which is illustrated in Figure 4.
In addition, Blacks are overrepresented in the federal system
and in each state researched, constituting a far greater
percentage of the nonviolent LWOP population than of
the census population as a whole. In the federal system,
Blacks constitute only 11.1 percent of the national census
population, but they make up 60 percent of the prisoner
population serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses; they serve
fIGURE 5

White

Percent of census population versus percent of
nonviolent offenders serving LWOP, by race (2012)

Black
40

Latino
Other

70%
60%

a
in

a
ho
ut

40%

50%

ro
l

pi
ss
i

a
an
si
ui

M
is
si

s
in
Ill

a
Fl
or
id

oi
Lo

er
al

Sy
st
em

Fe
d

80%

30%

Source: Federal data based on data provided by the U.S. Sentencing Commission
documenting the race of 2,948 prisoners admitted to federal prison between 1999
and 2011 and sentenced to LWOP for nonviolent offenses. This federal data does
not represent the race of federal prisoners currently serving LWOP for nonviolent
offenses, which the Bureau of Prisons refused to provide in response to a FOiA
request filed by the ACLU. State data provided by state Departments of Corrections,
except that of Louisiana, which is based on ACLU documentation of the cases of 187
Louisiana prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses, or 43.6% of the total 429
prisoners serving the sentence for nonviolent crimes. The Louisiana Department of
Corrections did not provide offense-specific race data in response to a FOiA request
filed by the ACLU.

20%
10%
0%

Black Non-Latino

White Non-Latino

Source
Source:
race data provided by state Departments of Corrections and the Federal
Bureau of Prisons; U.S. Census Data

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 29

fIGURE 6

fIGURE 7

Percentage of Black prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses compared to representation in
census population

Percentage of white prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses compared to representation in
census population
70

100
60
80

Black percentage
of census population

Black percentage of
prison population
serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses

White percentage
of census population

White percentage of
prison population
serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses

30
20
10

Ok
la
ho
m
a
So
ut
h
Ca
ro
lin
a
Fe
de
ra
lS
ys
te
m

M
is
si
ss
ip

si
an
a
Lo

oi
in
Ill

id
a
Fl
or

Ok
la
ho
m
a
So
ut
h
Ca
ro
lin
a
Fe
de
ra
lS
ys
te
m

M
is
si
ss
ip

si
an
a

oi
in
Ill

id
a
Fl
or

0
0

Source: See Figure 4, above.

such sentences at a rate of 46.5 per 1,000,000 residents, over
20 times the rate of whites. In Oklahoma, Blacks constitute
only 5.9 percent of the state population, but they make up
57.1 percent of the prison population serving LWOP for
nonviolent crimes. Blacks in Oklahoma are serving such
sentences at a rate of 197.63, 18 times the rate of whites.
In Louisiana, Blacks comprise 91.4 percent of the prison
population serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes, but they
make up only about one-third of the general population in the
state. Blacks in Louisiana are serving such sentences at a rate
of 154.85, approximately 23 times (23.1) the rate of whites.

system, Blacks were sentenced to LWOP for nonviolent
crimes at 20 times the rate of whites between 1999 and 2011.
In Louisiana, the ACLU’s survey found that Blacks were 23
times more likely than whites to be sentenced to LWOP for a
nonviolent crime. The racial disparities range from 33-to-1 in
Illinois to 18-to-1 in Oklahoma, 8-to-1 in Florida, and 6-to-1
in Mississippi. Table 11 shows the Black-to-white ratio of the
rate of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses per
1,000,000 residents, which is illustrated in Figure 8.

Moreover, Blacks are sentenced to LWOP for nonviolent
crimes at rates far greater than whites are. In the federal

Blacks are sentenced to life without parole for nonviolent
offenses at rates that cannot be explained by white and Black
defendants’ differential involvement in crimes alone.113 The
ACLU was unable to obtain data from available sources

TABLE 11

Rate of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses, classified by race and jurisdiction
�
state

White LWOP rate

Latino LWOP rate Black LWOP rate

Times more likely Blacks
sentenced to LWOP for a
nonviolent crime than whites

florida

9.28

7.32

73.72

7.94

Illinois

0.16

1.25

5.32

33.25

Louisiana

6.71

12.7

154.85

23.1

Mississippi

14.73

88.61

6.02

Oklahoma

197.63

17.97

south Carolina

11.58

60.8

5.25

federal system

2.33

11.24

47.49

20.38

30 American Civil Liberties Union

fIGURE 8

Rate of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses,
classified by race and compared by jurisdiction

Federal System
South Carolina
Oklahoma
Black LWOP rate
Mississippi

Latino LWOP rate
White LWOP rate

Louisiana

Illinois

Florida

100

150

200

250

to determine precisely how much more frequently Black
defendants are sentenced to life without parole for nonviolent
offenses than white defendants convicted of similar crimes
and with similar criminal histories.
The same disparities do not necessarily exist for Latinos. The
rate of Latinos serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses ranges
from a high of 12.7 per 1,000,000 residents in Louisiana to
9 in Oklahoma, 7.32 in Florida, 1.25 in Illinois, 11.24 in the
federal system, and 0 in South Carolina and Mississippi.
Latinos are serving life without parole for nonviolent crimes
at a rate that is almost 8 times (7.8) the rate of whites in
fIGURE 9

Percentage of Latino prisoners serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses compared to representation in
census population
25

Latino percentage
of census population

Latino percentage of
prison population
serving LWOP for
nonviolent offenses

er
al

ro
l
Fe
d

Ca
h
ut
So

Source: See Figure 4, above.

st
em

a
in

a
m
ho
la
Ok

is
si
ss
i

oi
s
in
Ill

Fl
or

Illinois and almost twice (1.9) the rate of whites in Louisiana.
Figure 9 illustrates this variation.
There is clear racial disparity in sentencing in general,
including in LWOP and parole-eligible life sentencing for
both violent and nonviolent offenses. A report released by
the U.S. Sentencing Commission in February 2013 concluded
that in recent years, Black male offenders have received
sentences that are nearly 20 percent longer than those
imposed on white males convicted of similar crimes.114 The
racial disparities increase with the severity of the sentence.
The level of disproportionate representation of Blacks
among prisoners who are serving LWOP is higher than that
among parole-eligible prisoners serving life sentences.115 The
disparity is higher still among prisoners sentenced to LWOP
for nonviolent offenses.
Scholarship over the past several decades has examined the
intersection of race and sentencing and produced significant
evidence of racial disparity in sentencing decisions in the
United States.116 This research indicates that race is often
found to contribute to disparities in sentencing decisions in
noncapital cases, with Black and Latino offenders sentenced
in state and federal courts facing significantly greater odds
of incarceration than similarly situated white offenders and
receiving longer sentences than their white counterparts in
some jurisdictions.117 Research has also shown that race plays
a significant role in the determination of which homicide
cases result in death sentences.118
Blacks receive disparate treatment at every stage of the
criminal justice system, including stops and searches, points
of arrest, prosecutions and plea negotiations, trials, and
sentencing.119 In some of the cases documented by the ACLU,
there is anecdotal evidence of possible disparate treatment by
law enforcement and justice authorities, such as apparently
baseless traffic and pedestrian stops and searches that may be
the results of racial profiling and targeted drug enforcement
in predominantly Black communities. In addition, racial
disparities in sentencing can result from theoretically “race
neutral” sentencing policies that have significant disparate
racial effects, particularly in the cases of habitual offender laws
and many drug policies, including mandatory minimums,
school zone drug enhancements, and federal policies adopted
by Congress in 1986 and 1996 establishing a 100:1 sentencing
disparity between crack and powder cocaine offenses.120

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 31

V. How

We Got Here: skyrocketing
Extreme sentences and Mass
Incarceration

ver the past 40 years, the number of people held in
prisons and jails in the United States per capita has
more than quadrupled, with the total number of
people incarcerated now surpassing 2.3 million.121 The United
States not only incarcerates the greatest number of people
in the world, but it also incarcerates at the highest rate. With
an incarceration rate five to ten times that of other western
democracies, the United States has less than five percent of
the world’s population, but our country’s prisoners account
for one quarter of the global prison population. Every state
and the federal government have seen a massive increase in
inmate populations. Existing facilities have been overcrowded
far beyond capacity, with prisoners sleeping in gyms and
hallways or triple- and quadruple-bunked in cells. This
explosive growth has reverberated far outside the prison walls:
one out of every four Americans has a criminal record, which
can impose tremendous obstacles to finding employment,
securing loans, and obtaining housing.122 Across the country,
young Black men living in neighborhoods of concentrated
disadvantage are disproportionately incarcerated and under
correctional control. This phenomenon—the excessive use
of incarceration and correctional control, especially among
poor people and people of color—is commonly referred to as
“mass incarceration.”
This report examines one of the most extreme manifestations
of mass incarceration: the imposition of sentences of life

1 OF 4

AMERICANS

HAS A

CRIMINAL RECORD

32 American Civil Liberties Union

without the possibility of parole for people convicted of
nonviolent offenses. The 3,278 people in America currently
serving life without the possibility of parole for nonviolent
crimes represent a tiny fraction of the overall incarcerated
population, but their sentences and stories shed light on how
extreme, cruel, and ineffective our penal system has become.
fIGURE 10

Growth in state and federal prison populations
(1925–2012)
1,750,000
1,500,000
1,250,000
1,000,000
750,000
500,000
250,000
0
1930

1940

1950

1960

1970

1980

1990

2000

2010

NOTe: Data does not include jail populations, except in six states where prisons and
jails form one integrated system: Alaska, Connecticut, Delaware, Hawaii, rhode
island, and vermont. Data reported for 2012 does not include sentenced inmates
not yet in custody, or out to court, and escapees temporarily in custody of local jails.
Source: U.S. Department of Justice, Bureau of Justice Statistics; U.S. Census Data

How did we get here? The explosive growth of the U.S. jail
and prison population since the 1970s—and the increasing
prevalence of LWOP and life sentences in particular—is the
inevitable consequence of more than four decades of “tough
on-crime” policies. Since the mid-1970s, state and federal
legislators have passed laws creating draconian sentencing
and parole schemes designed to keep ever-increasing
numbers of people in prison for decades. These policies
include mandatory minimum sentencing, which forces judges
to issue severe sentences regardless of individual factors
meriting leniency, and three-strikes laws, which expand the
number of crimes subject to life and life-without-parole
sentences. These policies have increased the number of people
imprisoned and the lengths of their imprisonments, as well

as limited opportunities for release, causing the population of
federal and state prisoners—including those sentenced to die
in prison for nonviolent crimes—to soar.
Two factors primarily determine the number of people in
prison: the number of admissions and the “length of stay,”
meaning the amount of time a person spends incarcerated.123
When these numbers rise, the number of people behind
bars increases. In the United States, both admissions and
lengths of stay have increased rapidly in state and federal
prison systems for decades. Increases in felony charges by
prosecutors, as well as increases in parole and probation
revocations for technical and other low-level violations,
drove admissions up,124 while severe sentencing practices
such as mandatory minimums, three-strikes and other
habitual offender laws, and long sentencing ranges with
limited possibilities for release have dramatically elongated
length of stay.

THE “WAR ON DRUGs” AND
MANDATORY MINIMUM
sENTENCING LAWs
Beginning in the mid-1970s and increasing throughout the
1980s and 1990s, in response to modest increases in crime
rates and reports about the prevalence of drug abuse and
drug-related crime, lawmakers around the country enacted
harsh mandatory minimum sentencing laws designed to
severely punish the manufacture, use, and sale of drugs,
among other crimes. Mandatory minimum laws require
automatic prison terms for those convicted of certain federal
and state crimes. These inflexible, often extremely lengthy,
“one-size-fits-all” sentencing laws prevent judges from
tailoring punishment to the individual and the seriousness of
the offense, barring them from considering factors such as the
individual’s role in the offense or the likelihood he or she will
commit a subsequent crime.
Under federal law, most mandatory minimum sentences
apply to drug crimes125 and are based on the weight of the
drug(s) involved; these sentences start at five years for certain
drug possession offenses and increase to life without parole.126
Three federal drug offenses can result in LWOP, even if
the offenses are relatively minor. For example, a federal

conviction for possessing 50 grams of methamphetamine
carries a mandatory life-without-parole sentence if the
defendant has previously been convicted of two other felony
drug offenses, which can be as minor as selling personal
amounts of marijuana.127
In addition, in 1984, Congress created the U.S. Sentencing
Commission, which established federal Sentencing Guidelines
that apply in all federal cases and were intended to reduce
sentencing disparities. The guidelines, however, set harsh
mandatory sentences that lengthened prison times for a
range of crimes and eliminated judicial discretion to craft
individualized sentences. Though the mandatory nature
of the guidelines was found unconstitutional by the U.S.
Supreme Court in United States v. Booker in 2005, federal
judges must continue to use them to guide their sentencing
decisions.128 Moreover, as explained in more detail in Section
VII(C) of this report, Booker is not retroactive, which means
that there are thousands of federal offenders sentenced
before 2005 still serving mandatory prison sentences handed
out under the mandatory guidelines—even in cases where
the sentencing judge objected to the mandatory sentence
required at the time. In addition, Booker did not change any
mandatory minimum sentencing laws.
Many states have enacted similar laws that set long
mandatory sentences for many nonviolent offenses,
particularly those involving drugs.129 A handful of states have
even instituted mandatory LWOP sentences for certain drug
offenses. In Alabama, a conviction for selling more than 56
grams of heroin results in a mandatory LWOP sentence.130
Similarly, a person convicted of selling two ounces of cocaine
in Mississippi must receive LWOP.131 To put these sentences in
perspective, the average time served for murder in the United
States is 14 years.132
While laws such as these were enacted in part out of concern
about drug abuse and drug-related crime, the penalties
they prescribe have not succeeded in curbing drug use, or
addiction rates, which have essentially remained flat for
40 years.133 The laws have, however, contributed to mass
incarceration in the United States. Harsh drug laws are
responsible for a significant portion of our enormous prison
population; over the past 15 years, in the wake of policy
changes that resulted in a proliferation of extreme sentences
for drug crimes, between 19 and 23 percent of state prisoners

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 33

were incarcerated for drug offenses.134 Those figures are even
more striking in the federal system; during the same time
period, between 55 and 60 percent of federal prisoners were
incarcerated for drug offenses.135
Federal judges have long been outspoken in their opposition
to mandatory sentencing laws that rob them of discretion
to respond to the individual facts and circumstances of a
case. Judge Andre M. Davis of the Fourth Circuit Court of
Appeals wrote that after his 17 years as a federal judge he
has concluded that “Federal mandatory minimums…have
inappropriately shifted sentencing authority to prosecutors
through their charging decisions, impeding judges from
considering mitigating factors that would help impose fair
and just sentences. They essentially strip away the discretion
that judges traditionally employ in sentencing drug offenders,
particularly low-level offenders.”136 Judge Davis later testified
at a U.S. Sentencing Commission hearing, “I say with
certainty that mandatory minimums are unfair and unjust.
These laws, created by an overzealous Congress decades
ago…hinder judges from handing out fair and individualized
sentences, while prosecutors are given unwarranted power to
dictate sentences through charging decisions.”137
Judge Mark W. Bennett, a federal judge who has sentenced
more than 3,000 defendants in four district courts and
reviewed sentences for the Courts of Appeals for the
Eighth and Ninth Circuits, has sentenced more than 1,000
nonviolent drug offenders to federal prison, the majority of

whom are small-time drug addicts he describes as “the lowhanging fruit of the drug war.”138 He says he can count the
number of drug kingpins he has sentenced on one hand, and
he has criticized “the insanity of mandatory minimums.”139
Judge Bennett wrote,
If lengthy mandatory minimum sentences for
nonviolent drug addicts actually worked, one
might be able to rationalize them. But there is
no evidence that they do. I have seen how they
leave hundreds of thousands of young children
parentless and thousands of aging, infirm, and
dying parents childless. They destroy families
and mightily fuel the cycle of poverty and
addiction…[F]or all the times I’ve asked jurors
after a drug conviction what they think a fair
sentence would be, never has one given a figure
even close to the mandatory minimum. It is
always far lower.140
In recent years, opposition to mandatory minimum sentences
has spread beyond the small circles of judges and advocates
who have long opposed them. In 2005, four former attorneys
general, a former FBI director, and dozens of former federal
prosecutors, judges, and Justice Department officials filed
an amicus brief in the U.S. Supreme Court opposing the use
of mandatory minimums in a case involving a marijuana
defendant facing a 55-year sentence. Outspoken conservative
commentators Pat Robertson, Pat Nolan, Grover Norquist,

“

I say with certainty that mandatory
minimums are unfair and unjust. These
laws, created by an overzealous Congress
decades ago, hinder judges from handing
out fair and individualized sentences,
while prosecutors are given unwarranted
power to dictate sentences through
charging decisions.”
— Judge Andre M. Davis, Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals
�

34 American Civil Liberties Union

and former NRA president David Keene have made powerful
statements against their use, arguing that they are highly
ineffective and expensive and that they undermine the
separation of powers.141 In March 2013, Senators Patrick
Leahy, a Democrat, and Rand Paul, a Republican, introduced
the Justice Safety Valve Act of 2013, which would expand
the number of people in federal court eligible for sentences
below the mandatory minimums. In August 2013, Attorney
General Eric Holder announced modifications to the Justice
Department’s charging policies so that certain people accused
of low-level nonviolent drug crimes would no longer be
charged with offenses that impose mandatory minimum
sentences.142 While the practical effect of this policy change
remains to be seen, it reflects the growing consensus across
the political spectrum that mandatory minimums should be
phased out.

THREE-sTRIKEs AND OTHER
�
HABITUAL OffENDER LAWs
�
In the early 1990s, a few highly publicized murders, such as
those of two young California girls named Kimber Reynolds
and Polly Klaas, drew intense public attention. These murders
invoked the specter of a dangerous spike in violent crime,
particularly by those who had been convicted of previous
crimes.143 There was a widely held belief that people with
criminal histories could not be reformed or corrected and,
if released from prison, that they would continue to commit
serious, violent crimes following their release.144
With public outcry about the problem of violent crime
mounting, legislatures across the country responded by
enacting habitual offender and “three-strikes-and-you’re-out”
laws.145 These laws were sold to the public as a way to stop
irredeemable criminals from committing future crimes by
requiring very long sentences, often life in prison, upon
conviction of a second or third felony offense. Washington
passed the first such law—the prototype for California’s
Three Strikes law—in 1993,146 and dozens of other states
passed similar laws throughout the 1990s.147
What the public was not told, and what many people still
do not realize, is that the convictions triggering extreme
sentences under these laws need not always be serious, violent

“

Three-strikes-and-you’re
out” laws were sold to the
public as a way to stop
irredeemable criminals from
committing future crimes.
What the public was not
told, and what many people
still do not realize, is that the
convictions triggering extreme
sentences under these laws
need not always be serious,
violent crimes.
crimes. For example, in Nevada, a person facing a fourth
felony conviction of any kind—nonviolent or otherwise—
may be sentenced to die in prison.148 In all of the cases the
ACLU documented for this report in which an individual
was sentenced to LWOP under a state habitual offender
law, the offense that triggered the habitual offender law was
nonviolent. In some of these cases, all of the individual’s prior
convictions were nonviolent as well, while some predicate
convictions were for crimes committed as a juvenile and/or
were decades old.
Furthermore, the gap between the sentence a defendant
would receive without the application of the habitual
offender law and the actual sentence is often enormous. For
example, a Texas man received a 50-year sentence under
the state’s habitual offender law in 2010 for possession of
3.7 grams of cocaine, a crime that carries a sentence of two
to 10 years when charged without the habitual offender
enhancement.149
The three-strikes movement has had a dramatic effect on
sentencing throughout the country, and it has contributed
substantially to the rise of the incarceration rate.150 Today,
all 50 states, the federal government, and the District of
Columbia have some form of habitual offender or threestrikes law. These laws are often extremely severe. Many

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 35

UNDER CALIFORNIA’S THREE STRIKES

LAW PEOPLE HAVE BEEN SENTENCED TO

25 YEARS TO LIFE

FOR STEALING:

SMALL CHANGE

PAIR OF
SOCKS

CHOCLATE
WORK GLOVES
CHIP COOKIES

A CAR JACK

A SLICE
OF PIZZA

permit LWOP for specified crimes, while 30 states and the
federal government have habitual offender laws that mandate
LWOP for certain crimes; in seven of these 30 states, LWOP is
mandatory even if every offense is nonviolent.151 In addition,
in many states prosecutors have discretion whether to charge
a defendant under a habitual offender law. In such cases, a
prosecutor—not a judge—determines that the person in
question deserves to die behind bars, despite the fact that,
historically, the U.S. criminal justice system has entrusted
judges to impose just and proportional sentences.
The application of these laws is all the more troubling given

36 American Civil Liberties Union

the range of offenses that are charged as felonies in the first
place. For example, defendants in California have been
sentenced to 25 years to life in prison under the state’s Three
Strikes law for the following nonviolent felony crimes: taking
small change from a parked car, stealing a pair of socks,
shoplifting nine children’s videotapes to give as Christmas
gifts, stealing a jack from the back of a tow truck, forging
a check for $146, shoplifting a pair of work gloves from a
department store, stealing a $100 leaf blower, snatching a slice
of pizza, attempting to steal a car radio, shoplifting three golf
clubs, shoplifting meat from a grocery store, theft of chocolate
chip cookies from a restaurant, attempting to break into a
soup kitchen for food, and possession of less than $10 worth
of cocaine. In November 2012, California voters passed the
Proposition 36 ballot initiative to reform California’s Three
Strikes law, thus preventing life sentences for defendants
whose third strikes are not serious crimes, as defined in
state law. Until the law was reformed, more than half of the
prisoners sentenced under the law were serving sentences for
nonviolent crimes. According to the advocacy group Families
to Amend California’s Three Strikes, approximately 4,431
third-strikers have received sentences of at least 25 years to
life for nonviolent offenses in California; unfortunately, many
remain behind bars awaiting resentencing and release.152

CHANGEs TO PAROLE LAWs
AND OTHER LIMITATIONs ON
RELEAsE
At the same time that states and the federal government were
passing laws to dramatically increase sentences, there was
also a significant push to guarantee that prisoners served a
significant portion of their sentences before receiving parole
or being granted “good time” credits. The federal system
abolished parole in 1984, and a number of states followed
suit.153 By the end of 2000, 16 states had completely abolished
discretionary parole, 28 states and the District of Columbia
required a prisoner to serve 85 percent of his or her sentence
before becoming eligible for parole, and four states abolished
parole only for people convicted of certain violent crimes.154
During this period, many states also rolled back earned
compliance provisions, known as “good time” credits, that
enable prisoners to earn the possibility of parole through

good behavior or completing education and treatment
programs while incarcerated.155
These so-called “truth-in-sentencing” laws have intuitive
appeal: they enhance transparency in the sentencing process
and assure crime victims and the public that a defendant will
not walk out of prison long before the “true” sentence has
been completed. In addition, abolishing parole can have a
positive effect on a jurisdiction’s incarceration rate, so long
as prison terms are rational. Prison growth over the last four
decades was the most restrained in states that both abolished
parole release and placed reasonable limitations on sentence
length through the adoption of sentencing guidelines.156

on the States, people released from prison in 2009 spent, on
average, 36 percent more time in custody than those released
in 1990.158 Some of the state-specific statistics are even more
striking: between 1990 and 2009, the average time served
increased dramatically in Florida (166 percent increase
in amount of time served), Virginia (91 percent), North
Carolina (86 percent), Oklahoma (83 percent), Michigan (79
percent), and Georgia (75 percent).159
One result of America’s ever-increasing prison terms is that
many thousands of people are now serving particularly
extreme sentences, including life without the possibility of
parole, for nonviolent offenses.

However, severely cutting back on or abolishing parole—
which automatically converts a life sentence into an LWOP
sentence—while leaving extraordinarily long prison terms
intact, can fuel excessive sentences and contribute to mass
incarceration, with no obvious benefit to public safety.
Predictably, in jurisdictions that have abolished parole while
retaining life sentences for people convicted of nonviolent
offenses—primarily the federal system, Louisiana, and
Oklahoma—the incidence of LWOP sentences for nonviolent
offenses has skyrocketed.
These and other changes in sentencing policy have affected
the length of prisoners’ confinement in prison across the
board. The average time served for all major categories of
crime has increased in the vast majority of states over the
last two decades.157 According to research by the Pew Center
fIGURE 11

Percent increase in average time served across
crime categories, 1990 to 2009
40%

37% increase

36% increase

30%

24% increase

20%

10%

Violent

Property

Drug

Source: Pew Center on the States (2012)

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 37

VI. Case

studies: 110 Offenders
sentenced to Die in Prison for
Nonviolent Crimes

his section provides portraits of 110 people sentenced
to die in prison for nonviolent crimes. These are
the stories of scores of prisoners who have been
warehoused and forgotten, locked up for the rest of their
lives for nonviolent drug and property crimes. Their cases are
representative of thousands of others serving excessive and
disproportionate sentences until their deaths in prison.
In the cases documented by the ACLU, the prisoners serving
LWOP were generally first-time offenders and low-level,
nonviolent repeat offenders. These nonviolent lifers include
drug couriers; drug addicts who sold small amounts of
drugs in order to support their addictions; petty thieves;
and girlfriends or wives who got caught up in mass arrests
of drug conspiracy members and, because they knew little
about their partners’ or ex-partners’ drug activities, were
unable to provide information in exchange for more lenient

“

When they sentenced
my child, they sentenced
me too. I’m in Angola
too—my heart is there.”
—eisibe Sneed, mother of rufus White
(see page 139), leaving Louisiana State
Penitentiary in Angola, after visiting her son

38 American Civil Liberties Union

sentences. Some did distribute large quantities of drugs, but
they have been incarcerated for as many as three decades and
have demonstrated both remorse and rehabilitation. Some
of the prisoners sentenced to LWOP under three-strikes and
other state habitual offender laws had previously committed
violent crimes; however, in all of the cases documented by
the ACLU, the LWOP-triggering offense was nonviolent.
Others were sentenced to LWOP for crimes they committed
as teenagers, in some cases for their minor roles in drug
conspiracies starting when they were as young as 15. Several
are Vietnam War veterans who were introduced to drugs
during their military service and battled addiction after
leaving the military. Others are serving LWOP for selling
or importing marijuana, and a number of federal prisoners
serving LWOP would already have been eligible for release if
the crack/powder sentencing disparity were eliminated. Some
are elderly, while others are terminally ill.

In the overwhelming majority of the cases we documented, the
sentencing judge was required to sentence the defendant to die
in prison due to laws requiring mandatory minimum periods
of imprisonment, habitual offender laws, statutory penalty
enhancements, or other sentencing rules that mandated LWOP.
In case after case reviewed by the ACLU, the sentencing judge
said on the record that he or she opposed the mandatory LWOP
sentence as too severe but had no discretion in the matter.
TABLE 12

Jurisdictions that permit LWOP for certain nonviolent
offenses

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23

federal Government
Alabama
Arizona
Arkansas
Delaware
florida
Georgia
Illinois
Indiana
Iowa
Kentucky
Louisiana

Under current law, 22 states and the federal government
permit LWOP sentences for certain nonviolent crimes. Based
on data obtained by the ACLU, we know that prisoners
are currently serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses in the
federal system, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Illinois, Louisiana,
Mississippi, Missouri, Oklahoma, and South Carolina.

fIRsT-TIME NONVIOLENT
OffENDERs
The federal government and seven states—Alabama, Arizona,
Florida, Mississippi, Missouri, Nevada, and North Dakota—
currently permit or mandate LWOP for first-time nonviolent
drug offenses. The federal government also permits LWOP
for first-time nonviolent property offenses. Nearly all of
the cases we documented of first-time nonviolent offenders
serving LWOP were sentenced in the federal system. Although
most jurisdictions did not provide data on the numbers
of prisoners serving LWOP for their first offenses, the
Departments of Corrections of Louisiana and Mississippi
reported that 26 and 18 first-time offenders are serving life
without parole for nonviolent offenses in their respective
states.160 The ACLU also documented the case of one firsttime offender sentenced to LWOP in Florida.161 While the
Bureau of Prisons did not provide data on first-time offenders
serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes, 18.4 percent (more
than 1 in 6) of the federal prisoners surveyed by the ACLU are
first-time offenders.

Michigan
Mississippi
Missouri
Nevada
North Dakota
Oklahoma
south Carolina
south Dakota
Virginia
Wisconsin
Wyoming

TABLE 13

Jurisdictions that currently permit LWOP for
first-time nonviolent offenses

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8

federal government
Alabama
Arizona
florida
Mississippi
Missouri
Nevada
North Dakota

A Living Death: Case Studies 39

FeDerAL SySTeM

Clarence Aaron with his nieces. Their
mother, Aaron’s sister, died suddenly
in 2005. Aaron says he is close to his
nieces and calls them every week.
Before he was imprisoned, Aaron
tried to serve as a male role model
and father figure to his older niece,
as her father did not take an active
role in her life. Aaron’s nieces visit
him in prison whenever they can.

Clarence Aaron, a college student
with no criminal record, was
sentenced to three life-without-parole
sentences at age 23 for playing a
minor role in two planned large drug
deals—one of which did not take
place—in which he was not the buyer,
seller, or supplier of the drugs.
A linebacker at Southern University in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, Aaron worked as
a longshoreman during his summer breaks and was active in community service
at home in Mobile, Alabama, as a Mason.162 According to the trial court, Aaron
introduced a college classmate whose brother was a drug supplier to a cocaine
dealer he knew in high school, for which he was paid $1,500; arranged for the
transportation of nine kilograms of cocaine; and was present for the sale of those
nine kilograms of cocaine and the conversion of one kilogram to crack.163 Aaron
was also found to have travelled from Mobile to Houston with $250,000 to purchase
cocaine for a planned 15-kilogram drug purchase that did not happen.164
Aaron refused to testify against his co-conspirators and said that he knew little
about the deal because of his minor role, but his co-defendants testified against him
in exchange for reduced sentences. He was convicted at trial of conspiracy to possess
with intent to distribute more than 23 kilograms of powder and crack cocaine,
possessing nine kilograms of cocaine with intent to distribute, and attempting to
possess 15 kilograms of cocaine with intent to distribute.165
Aaron was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole for these nonviolent
drug offenses. They were his first offenses, which he committed when he was only
23 and in his final semester of college. He received a longer sentence than his more
culpable co-conspirators, all but one of whom have been released from prison (the
last one is scheduled to be released in 2014). Conceding her son’s serious error in
judgment, his mother, Linda Aaron-McNeil, said, “At the time, neither Clarence
nor I had any idea of how harsh a penalty he would receive for this error. When the
judge announced the sentence of three life terms, my heart shattered into a thousand
pieces. Since this nightmare began, I merely exist. The pain never subsides.”166
The judge who sentenced Aaron, U.S. District Court Judge Charles Butler Jr., later
wrote in response to a motion for resentencing filed by Aaron’s attorneys, “Looking
through the prism of hindsight, and considering the many factors argued by the
defendant that were not present at the time of his initial sentencing, one can argue

40 American Civil Liberties Union

that a less harsh sentence might have been more equitable; however, this Court is
powerless to act in a pardon capacity.”167
Aaron has repeatedly sought clemency, apparently his only chance to be released
from prison. The U.S. Attorney’s Office that prosecuted him and the federal judge
who sentenced him supported his second petition for commutation, which was filed
in 2007; the prosecutor’s office recommended his LWOP sentence be commuted
to 25 years, which would have meant release in 2014, and the judge supported
commutation to time served.168 The clemency petition was rejected in 2008.
According to an investigation of Aaron’s case by ProPublica, in his recommendation
to former President George W. Bush that he reject Aaron’s request for commutation,
Pardon Attorney Ronald Rodgers failed to disclose that the prosecutor and judge
supported commutation.169 Aaron submitted a third petition for commutation in
April 2010, which is still pending.170
Now 43, Aaron has spent almost 20 years in prison. He has completed a two-year
religious studies correspondence course through Emory University and has taken
every computer skills course offered by the Bureau of Prisons. He has also taken
courses in microeconomics, Spanish, photography, and behavioral development.171
He served the first 12 years of his sentence in maximum security prisons in Florida
and Georgia, and he was transferred in 2007 to a lower-security federal penitentiary
in Talladega, Alabama, because of his record of good conduct. He has held coveted
factory jobs in the institutions where he has been imprisoned and has managed to
save a relatively substantial sum from his prison wages. He has stayed in regular
touch with his mother, sisters, other family members, and friends from high school
and college. His commutation petition has strong support in his family’s close-knit
Mobile community. Dozens of letters have been submitted to the president urging
his release from pastors, business leaders, and educators, all of whom know him and
his family personally. He has been offered several jobs upon his release.

The federal
prosecutor’s office
that prosecuted
Aaron and the
federal judge who
sentenced him
supported clemency
in his case, Aaron’s
only chance to
be released from
prison. The
judge supported
commutation to
time served, but
Aaron’s petition was
rejected in 2008.

FeDerAL SySTeM

sharanda Purlette Jones, a mother
with no prior criminal record, is
serving life without parole for a crack
cocaine conspiracy based almost
entirely on the testimony of coconspirators.
Jones’s own mother raised her family of five on a limited income in the small, rural
town of Terrell, Texas. When Jones was only three years old, her mother was injured
in a car accident that left her paralyzed from the neck down.172 Due to her mother’s
severe health condition, from a young age Jones cared and provided for her siblings

Sharanda Jones (right) and her
daughter, Clenesha Garland. Now 22,
Clenesha was nine years old when
her mother was incarcerated.

A Living Death: Case Studies 41

and paraplegic mother.173 Jones says she grew up in poverty and continued to face
financial difficulties as she tried to support herself and her family. She worked as a
licensed cosmetologist and later opened a restaurant with a friend.
Jones was arrested as part of a drug task force operation in Terrell, a majority
white town (55 percent white, 32 percent Black) of approximately 13,500 people
located 40 miles east of Dallas. A couple in Terrell was arrested on drug charges and
became confidential informants, which triggered a larger investigation in the small
town. All 105 people arrested as part of the conspiracy were Black. At the time of
the operation, actor Chuck Norris was reportedly a volunteer police officer for the
Kaufman County Sheriff ’s Department and participated in some of the arrests.

There was no
physical evidence
presented at trial
that connected her
to drug trafficking
with her five co
conspirators—no
producible amount
of drugs, video
surveillance, or
any other physical
evidence.

The couple that was first to be arrested was friendly with Jones. While acting
as government informants after their arrests, they asked Jones during a taped
telephone call if she knew where they could buy drugs. According to evidence
presented at trial, Jones in turn responded that she might know someone she could
introduce them to so that they could buy drugs.
Jones was indicted and voluntarily surrendered to police in April 1999; at the time,
she was 32 years old and raising her eight-year-old daughter. She had never been
arrested before. She was eventually indicted on seven counts of drug distribution.
In August 1999, she was acquitted on six counts of crack cocaine possession and
found guilty of one count of conspiracy to distribute crack cocaine.174 There was no
physical evidence presented at trial that connected her to drug trafficking with her
five co-conspirators—no producible amount of drugs, video surveillance, or any
other physical evidence. Other than the taped phone call, the allegations were based
entirely on the testimony of co-conspirators.
Prosecutors claimed that Jones drove to Houston on several occasions to meet
a supplier (one of the testifying co-conspirators), from whom she bought 30
kilograms of cocaine powder, which was never found by police, over time; she then
drove to Dallas and sold it to two buyers, also testifying co-conspirators, who would
turn the powder into crack and sell it. Each of these co-conspirators testified against
Jones in exchange for reduced sentences, pleaded guilty, and is now out of prison.
Notably, Jones’s supplier was sentenced to 19 years and released from prison in
2008. The trial court concluded that Jones had sold cocaine to the two buyers, who
converted the powder cocaine into crack before selling it to others.175 The court also
found that some of the crack was sold out of Jones’s mother’s home.176
Jones’s sister, mother, brother, and stepfather were also arrested. Her paraplegic
mother, Genice Stribling, went to trial and was sentenced to 15 years in prison for
selling crack out of her own home.177 Genice was incarcerated in the same facility
as her daughter until her death in prison in late December 2012, one year before
she was to be released. Jones’s brother, who had a prior record, received an 18-year
sentence and is still incarcerated. The charges against her stepfather were dismissed.

42 American Civil Liberties Union

Even though Jones had no criminal record, she was sentenced to mandatory
life without parole in November 1999. To arrive at Jones’s base offense level for
sentencing purposes, the judge took the 30 kilograms of powder cocaine alleged by
the co-conspirators and multiplied it by an arbitrary ratio to hold her accountable
for a large quantity of crack cocaine because the conspiracy’s end product was
crack.178 The judge then enhanced Jones’s offense level based on her managerial
role; possession of a firearm (Jones was licensed to carry a firearm in Texas); and
obstruction of justice for testifying in her own defense (the judge found that the
jury, by virtue of its guilty verdict, had found implicitly that her testimony under
oath was false).179 Jones says of her sentencing, “It was devastating and shocking to
me, my body was silent and numb—I couldn’t respond I was so shocked.”180
Jones has exhausted all of her appeals and has a petition for commutation pending.
According to her attorney, if she had been convicted of the same amount of powder
cocaine instead of crack cocaine, her mandatory minimum sentence would have
been 30 years.181 However, she is not eligible for a sentence reduction based on
sentencing reforms that have reduced the disparity in federal sentencing between
crack and powder cocaine.182 Jones says of her sentence, “I will expire in the federal
system. It is really a slow death.”183
Jones has been incarcerated for more than 14 years. She is 45, and her daughter,
Clenesha Garland, is 22. Even though Clenesha was only nine when her mother
went to prison, the two remain very close and Clenesha calls the eight years she
spent living with her mother “a definite gift from God.”184 She visits her mother
at least once a month and corresponds with her weekly. Jones says she carefully
apportions her allotted 300 monthly minutes for non-legal calls to speak with her
daughter for 10 minutes each day.185
Jones said of her daughter, “My sister brings her to visit, and every time she comes
it’s hard. I see her like once a month. And to see her grow from a little bitty baby
to almost a grown woman, it’s just like, God. My dream is to just show up at her
school. I mean, I know they gave me life, but I can’t imagine not being at her
graduation...I just can’t imagine me not being there.”186 She told the ACLU of her
daughter, “She didn’t even want to graduate because I couldn’t be there to watch
her walk across the stage. I told her to do it anyway and imagine I’m there in the
audience…I told her pick your spot, look at that seat, and say that’s me sitting
there.”187

Even though Jones
had no criminal
record, she was
sentenced to
mandatory life
without parole.
She says of her
sentencing, “It was
devastating and
shocking to me,
my body was
silent and numb—
I couldn’t respond
I was so shocked.”

“I miss my mother dearly. Even as a young adult it is very difficult for me to fight
back my emotions during visits and phone calls with my mother,” Clenesha says.
“Being without my mother for over 14 years of my life has been extremely difficult.
But the thought that she is set to spend the rest of her life in prison as a first-time
nonviolent offender is absolutely devastating.... All I pray for every day is the
blessing of being able to spend my life with my mother outside of prison walls.”188
While in prison, Jones has taken numerous courses related to personal development

A Living Death: Case Studies 43

and self-improvement. She says, “When I first came to prison I told myself, ‘You can
be bitter or you can be better.’”189 Accordingly, she has taken dozens of educational
and vocational training courses such as data entry, typing, math, grammar, banking,
filing, and office technician training. She has completed courses on building selfesteem, health, and parenting. She also took a six-month cosmetologist instructors’
program in order to help other inmates with an interest in cosmetology, and she
has helped train numerous inmates who subsequently obtained their cosmetology
licenses. She also actively participated in the SHARE Program, a program for at-risk
teenage girls aimed at deterring them from a life of crime.190 She recently completed
an 18-month faith-based program through which she has completed community
service, participated in activities to help bring reconciliation to the community, and
established re-entry goals and action steps, even though her sentence means she will
not have a chance to prove that she can reach her re-entry goals.191
In her more than 14 years of incarceration, Jones has maintained a spotless
disciplinary record with the exception of a single disciplinary violation dated more
than 10 years ago when one of her visitors was involved in a verbal altercation
with a corrections officer regarding coins that were lost in a vending machine.
In addition, Jones has maintained continuous employment throughout her
incarceration; she previously worked in food service and laundry, and for the past
ten years she has provided hair care for inmates in the maximum security and
hospital units. If she is released, Jones says she wants to work with children and
adults and use her struggles and the lessons she has learned about the consequences
of drugs and crime to deter others.
FeDerAL SySTeM

Danielle Metz is a mother of two
serving three life sentences plus
20 years for her involvement in
her husband’s cocaine distribution
enterprise, her first offense.
Danielle Metz and her two children,
Gleneisha Metz and Carl Bernard,
who were four and seven when she
was first imprisoned. They now are
23 and 27.

The youngest of nine children raised in New Orleans, Metz became pregnant
at 17 by a man who was murdered when their son Carl was six months old. She
subsequently became involved with a drug dealer named Glenn when she was
18. She recalls that Glenn, then 30, promised to care for her and her baby. She
says that she knew he was involved in drug distribution and that she was not
initially involved in his activities. They married after they had a daughter together,
Gleneisha.
Metz says her husband was very controlling and forbid her from getting a job or
leaving their home for more than an hour at a time. According to Metz, he became
physically and mentally abusive after they married and made her feel subservient

44 American Civil Liberties Union

because he paid the bills. She cut hair inside their home, but she reports she had
no other job skills or independent source of income. According to Metz, after one
abusive episode, to address her husband’s accusation that she did not contribute
to the budget, she promised her husband that she would help out in any way he
wished. She recalls that he later asked her to ride with her aunt Angela, a petty drug
dealer who had become involved in Glenn’s drug activities, to transport money
to Houston. Metz says she accompanied her aunt twice and brought cocaine back
to New Orleans on one of these occasions. According to Metz, she also collected
money from Western Union, also at Glenn’s request.
Metz reports she never had a bank account in her name or a Social Security number
and was dependent on her husband. In 1990, they moved to Las Vegas, separating
her from her family. According to Metz, Glenn struck her, causing her nose to gush
with blood, while they were visiting her sister in Los Angeles. While returning to Las
Vegas, Metz planned her escape. She says that when Glenn left for the casino, she
left a note in the closet and took the kids to a hotel, where they stayed the night. The
next day, before boarding a flight to New Orleans, where her family still lived, Metz
says she called Glenn to tell him where she had left the car and that she was leaving
him. Two months later, she was arrested and indicted for participating in a drug
conspiracy with her estranged husband.
Metz was arrested in New Orleans at 25 and charged with conspiring with eight
co-defendants, some of whom she says she had never met, in her husband’s cocaine
distribution enterprise. According to Metz, her attorney had never tried a criminal
case and visited her only once, the day before her trial. Prosecutors argued that Metz
was a “prime force, and not just a passive presence” in her husband’s organization’s
acquisition and distribution of large quantities of cocaine, and the appellate court
concluded that she directly oversaw the drug trafficking activities of three of her
co-conspirators.192 Although no drugs were seized from any of the co-defendants
or produced at trial, on the basis of the co-conspirators’ testimony, the trial court
concluded that the operation distributed 1,000 kilograms of cocaine.193
Metz was convicted of participating in a continuing criminal enterprise organized
and managed by her husband, possession of cocaine with intent to distribute, and
money laundering.194 She recalls that her jury was comprised of 11 middle-aged
white jurors and one Black juror. She was not personally linked to any violence
or weapons, but at trial the jury heard testimony about firearms seized from
some of her co-conspirators and the murder and other violent acts committed by
co-conspirators in connection with a fourth charge, conspiracy to possess cocaine
with intent to distribute, that was later vacated in her case.195 Metz, then 26, was
sentenced to three LWOP sentences plus 20 years in 1993. It was her first conviction.

“

When I was
arrested, [federal
prosecutors]
told me that they
didn’t want me
for anything; that
they wanted my
husband and if I
would tell them
everything that
they needed to
know that I would
be set free, and if I
couldn’t, I would
never see my kids
again,” she says. “I
replied by saying
that I couldn’t tell
them what I did
not know.”

Metz was convicted largely on the basis of testimony from her aunt Angela, who
had earlier been arrested for an unrelated drug charge and testified against Metz
and her husband as part of a plea deal. Metz says that she had no useful information
she could trade, the only way to win a sentence reduction under federal mandatory

A Living Death: Case Studies 45

sentencing. She believes she was indicted solely to testify against her husband.
“When I was arrested, these people told me that they didn’t want me for anything;
that they wanted my husband and if I would tell them everything that they needed
to know that I would be set free, and if I couldn’t, I would never see my kids again,”
she says. “I replied by saying that I couldn’t tell them what I did not know.”196

Metz’s son Carl
says that on
visiting weekends,
Sundays “hurt
more than fire—
knowing I had to
leave at a certain
time, and she’s not
coming with me.”
During Christmas
visits he would line
up to sit on the
lap of the prison
Santa and always
repeat the same
Christmas wish:
to have his
mother home.

46 American Civil Liberties Union

Metz, 46, has served more than 20 years in prison. Her daughter and son were ages
four and seven when she was incarcerated. They are now 23 and 27. For the first
few years of Metz’s incarceration, her young daughter, Gleneisha, was told that her
mother was in the hospital. Her son, Carl, first visited her in jail a year after her
arrest. “When I first saw my mother,” Carl recalls, “I was crying, but I wasn’t hurt. I
never really felt like that, so I was confused. Tears are coming out my eyes and I’m
happy? My mother explained it to me—‘You’re crying ’cause you’re happy.’”197
Carl first learned the details of his mother’s sentence when he was 12. “I didn’t
even think it was real at the time,” he said. “I thought she was kidding. I remember
saying, ‘You can’t do triple life. You only have one.’”198 He says that on visiting
weekends, Sundays “hurt more than fire—knowing I had to leave at a certain time,
and she’s not coming with me.”199 He recalls Christmas visits during which he would
line up to sit on the lap of the prison Santa and always repeat the same Christmas
wish: to have his mother home.
“The hardest part of all is the separation from my children,” Metz said. “We need
each other terribly. How do you tell your child, ‘Mama will never be coming home’?
My heart aches to know that all the love I pour out to them may not be enough to
convince them that I haven’t left them so far away out of not caring for them.”200
She told the ACLU, “To be away from my kids, to miss them growing up, to have
to parent them over the phone and in the visitation room, to miss my daughter’s
wedding, took a piece of me that can’t be replaced.”201 She adds, “It’s a tragedy
shared by women, children, families and communities across this country…leaving
the kids to think they don’t have a hope in the world.”202
Metz remains very close with her mother, children, and siblings, who describe
her as the “glue” of their family.203 Her sister, Adrian Bernard, raised her daughter,
Gleneisha, and moved from Louisiana to California 10 years ago in order to be
closer to Metz, whom they visit twice a month.204 For the past 20 years, Metz’s
77-year-old mother, Barbara Bernard, has traveled from New Orleans to Dublin,
California, to visit her daughter twice a year on her birthday and Christmas.205
Barbara says, “[M]y only desire is to see my baby, Danielle, free and home to share a
laugh or two with me and her children before the Lord call[s] me home to Glory.”206

FeDerAL SySTeM

Michael fitzgerald Wilson, a father
of three and former business owner,
was sentenced two decades ago to
LWOP as a first-time nonviolent drug
offender.
Wilson and his brother owned a car dealership in Dallas, Texas. Wilson and seven
others, including his brother and girlfriend, were arrested and charged with
participating in a crack cocaine conspiracy. Following a jury trial, Wilson was
convicted of conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute and distribution of more
than 50 grams of crack cocaine, three counts of use of a telephone to facilitate a
drug trafficking crime, and three counts of aiding and abetting money laundering.
At his trial, several of his co-conspirators testified against him in exchange for
reduced sentences. To determine the amount of drugs involved in Wilson’s case,
the judge multiplied numbers noted in a ledger found in a co-conspirator’s
apartment by the number of weeks prosecutors claimed the conspiracy had run.
Using this calculation, the judge determined that Wilson and his co-conspirators
were responsible for 54 kilograms of crack, though only one kilogram of crack was
actually recovered near a co-conspirator’s home and no drugs were recovered in
Wilson’s home or business.
In Wilson’s 1994 sentencing, the judge said that because he sentenced Wilson’s
co-conspirator to life, he had to sentence Wilson to the same. In 2001, former
President Bill Clinton commuted the sentence of the co-conspirator, who was the
only white defendant involved in the case. According to Wilson’s attorney, if Wilson
had been convicted of the same amount of powder cocaine instead of crack cocaine,
his mandatory sentencing range would have been approximately 20 to 24 years.207
However, he is not eligible for a sentence reduction based on sentencing reforms
that have reduced the disparity in federal sentencing between crack and powder
cocaine.208 Wilson says he was shocked by his sentence, explaining, “Because I had
never been to prison before…you never think you’re about to get life…. They give
us life without parole, you’re like, that can’t be possible, but it really is.”209
Now 48, Wilson has served 20 years in prison. His three sons, who were ages
three, four, and six when he was incarcerated, are all now in their mid-20s. He
corresponds with his mother, Dorothy Wilson, and sons regularly and says he has
a very close relationship with his mother. His mother and sons are seldom able to
visit him because he is imprisoned in California and they live in Texas. Since his
incarceration, he has taken several classes related to self-improvement. He has also
completed several leatherwork courses in which he learned hand-stitching, design,
and traditional construction techniques.

Michael Wilson and his three sons
in 1996, two years after he was
sentenced to life without parole.
Wilson’s sons are all in their 20s
today.

If Wilson had been
convicted of the
same amount of
powder cocaine
instead of crack
cocaine, his
sentence would
have been 20 to 24
years. However, he
is not eligible for a
sentence reduction
based on reforms
that have reduced
the disparity in
federal sentencing
between crack and
powder cocaine.

A Living Death: Case Studies 47

Wilson suffered a stroke in November 2011 and required hospitalization for several
days. The stroke left him with extreme difficulty reading and writing, severely
impaired speech, and vision problems.210 His condition has improved very little since
his stroke. He was not provided with speech therapy until nine months after his
stroke, when it was too late to recover speech ability. He is imprisoned at Victorville
United States Penitentiary in California, a high-security facility at which he reports
he has been unable to obtain adequate medical care for his medical condition.
FeDerAL SySTeM

Jesse Webster was sentenced to life
without parole in 1995 for his first
conviction, which involved an aborted
drug deal.

Jesse Webster
�

At sentencing, the
federal judge said
the mandatory
sentence was “too
high,” but he had
no choice under the
then-mandatory
sentencing guide
lines. The judge said
that if not bound
by these guidelines,
he would consider
imposing a sentence
of around 25 years.

As a teenager living on the South Side of Chicago, Webster began working for tips
at a neighborhood carwash to earn bus fare and lunch money for school. Although
at first he worked after school and on weekends, eventually he began working full
time to help his mother pay bills and buy food for the family. According to Webster,
when a customer offered him a job as a driver, he accepted the job, even though he
knew the customer was a drug dealer, because his family needed the money. He quit
school in the ninth grade and became more involved in the drug trade.
In August 1994, Webster helped set up a deal to purchase 25 kilograms of cocaine
from an individual who had recently been arrested on drug charges and was
cooperating with the DEA as an informant. That drug deal was abandoned, the
DEA made no arrests, and no drugs were ever seized. However, months later, upon
hearing that he was wanted for questioning by the authorities in connection with
the aborted deal, Webster voluntarily turned himself in. In September 1995, he was
indicted, along with two other individuals.
Webster says he wanted to cooperate with the government, but the government
would not accept a guilty plea unless he agreed to serve as a confidential informant
against a local gang. According to Webster, he was not affiliated with the gang and
worried that he would put his family’s safety at risk if he agreed to testify against
gang members. He went to trial, and the jury acquitted him of the main count of
possession with intent to distribute but convicted him of attempt and conspiracy to
possess cocaine with intent to distribute and filing false tax returns.211 Based entirely
on the testimony of Webster’s co-defendants who agreed to testify against Webster
in return for significantly reduced sentences, the trial court found that Webster and
five others participated in a conspiracy to distribute 200 to 300 kilograms of cocaine
from 1992 to 1994.212 It was Webster’s first conviction.
At sentencing, the federal judge stated that he regarded the policy decision
underlying the mandatory sentence as “essentially incorrect” and the mandatory

48 American Civil Liberties Union

sentence as “too high,” but he added that he had no choice under the thenmandatory sentencing guidelines.213 Judge James B. Zagel further stated that if
not bound by the mandatory sentencing guidelines, he would consider imposing
a sentence of around 25 years with an expectation of 85 percent of the sentence
to be served.214 The judge searched the sentencing guidelines independently for
grounds to impose a lower sentence but could not find any that applied in Webster’s
case.215 As a result, because of the large quantity of cocaine involved—a quantity
established based on the testimony of Webster’s co-defendants since no cocaine
was ever seized—and because his sentence was enhanced for the leadership role his
co-defendants attributed to him, Webster received the mandatory sentence of life in
prison.216 His co-defendants received sentences of less than five years in exchange for
cooperating with the government and testifying against him.
“The world just got snatched out of me. I was 27 years old, had never been to prison
before,” Webster recalls. “I was just numb because you don’t really know [what a
life sentence means]. When you’re 27, you still have a little hope. You can’t even
understand. Then my daughter started getting older. My only child was three when
I left. As your child gets older and you’re missing out on her life, things start to get
more real.”217 He says he has since come to understand the reality of his sentence,
explaining, “You never get to go back to society…They are saying that I’m not ever
fit to re-enter society. You wonder if this is the end of it for you, which prison you’ll
die in, if I’ll just pass here.”218
Webster has now served 18 years in prison. In that time, he has counseled other
inmates and worked as a Captain’s orderly. In 2011, his request to transfer from
a high-security to a medium-security institution was granted, and he moved to a
federal prison in Greenville, Illinois. Since his transfer, he has earned his GED and
completed classes in typing, creative card-making, financial management, mental
math, effective communications, and lifestyle interventions. In addition to pursuing
his own educational development, he tutors other inmates working to earn their
GEDs and assists prisoners with developing skills to successfully reenter society
upon release.

“

I was just numb
because you don’t
really know [what
a life sentence
means]. When
you’re 27, you
still have a little
hope. You can’t
even understand.
[Now, after 18
years in prison],
you wonder which
prison you’ll die in.”

Webster is in close contact with his family and intends to help support them if
released. His daughter, who was five when he went to prison, is now 22. She attends
Kennedy King College, where she is studying criminal justice, and recently gave
birth to Webster’s first grandchild. Webster’s mother is in poor health, and his
stepfather recently succumbed to cancer. Webster wishes to return home to help
care for his ailing mother and to be a father and grandfather. If released, he intends
to help his mother and work with ex-offenders to help them get the skills needed to
become productive members of society.
Webster recently filed a petition for commutation of his sentence. Webster’s petition
is supported by Judge James B. Zagel, who sentenced him to life in prison, as well
as by both of the former Assistant United States Attorneys who prosecuted him. In
a letter to President Obama supporting commutation of Webster’s sentence, Judge
Zagel stated that he was unable to give Webster the sentence he believed the crime

A Living Death: Case Studies 49

actually merited because at the time, “cocaine was incorrectly perceived to inflict
social damage so grave that it should be punished in the severest way.”219 Judge Zagel
wrote that Webster’s sentence was “an anomaly at the time,” because “[r]ape, armed
robbery, [and] ruinous financial crime were rarely punished with life sentences” and
“[i]n many jurisdictions, even murder was not deemed to warrant mandating life in
prison.”220 Writing that he “doubt[s] that after a decade or two in prison [Webster]
will represent a danger to society,” Judge Zagel concluded that after “20 or so years
in prison,” Webster will have had “enough punishment for his crimes.”221
“If both my judge and prosecutors, who know my case better than anyone else,
believe that I am fit to return to society, and that my sentence was excessive, then
how can it be justice for me to serve a life sentence?,” Webster says. “I am not
the person that I was 18 years ago. I deserve to be punished for my crime...but
surely not condemned to serve the rest of my natural life in prison. Give me an
opportunity to prove myself.”222
FeDerAL SySTeM

robert Booker Sr. holding a copy
of “Push,” the novel he wrote and
published while in prison.

A first-time offender with no criminal
record, Robert E. Booker sr. was
sentenced to LWOP nearly two
decades ago for operating a crack
house, despite the sentencing judge’s
stated belief that he should serve
only 20 years in prison.
Booker was sentenced to LWOP for conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute
crack cocaine; operating a crack distribution house in South Bend, Indiana; and
possession with intent to distribute crack cocaine when he was 27 years old.223 The
trial judge initially sentenced him to 20 years, declining to enhance his sentence on
an allegation that he used a gun during the commission of these crimes—a charge
of which he was acquitted at trial.224 The prosecutor appealed, and on remand,
Booker’s sentence was increased to 30 years.225 When the prosecutor appealed yet
again, the case went before a different judge for resentencing and, due to the judge’s
decision to add points to Booker’s offense level for sentencing purposes (for using a
gun despite the acquittal on the weapons charge), Booker’s sentence was enhanced
to life without parole.226 His co-defendant, who unlike Booker had a criminal
record, was ultimately sentenced to only 10 years in prison.
Judge Terence T. Evans of the 7th Circuit Court of Appeals strongly dissented from
the decision to send the case for re-sentencing—the decision that ultimately led
to Booker’s LWOP sentence, which was mandatory under the federal sentencing
guidelines. Judge Evans wrote:

50 American Civil Liberties Union

The unfairness of a life sentence without parole for Mr. Booker…is the
more important issue; it will be a grossly unjust result compared to the
term imposed on his co-entrepreneur, Mr. Pollard…. First, there’s the
initial decision to charge Booker in federal court, where the penalties
are steep, instead of the courts of Indiana. Second, Booker is [B]lack
and deals in crack, which carries penalties 100 times greater under
the guidelines than would be the case if he sold powder cocaine, the
choice of folks who live in tony suburbs. The law, of course, says this
is perfectly cricket, but that doesn’t make it fair. Lastly, Pollard, who as
we noted in our prior opinion is almost a career offender, was every
bit the drug dealer Booker (who has no criminal record) was; yet,
comparatively, he was handled with kid gloves. The prosecutor, who
has enormous (critics suggest too much) power under the guidelines,
gave Pollard all sorts of consideration which resulted, upon remand, in
a sentence of 10 years and 1 month. On the other hand, the prosecutor
wants to lock up Booker and throw the key away...forever. Even bad
apples should be treated with some semblance of fairness.227
Now 47, Booker has been incarcerated for 19 years. “I was sentenced to death, not
life, if you ask me,” he says. “You’re just waiting until that day you die.”228 Since he
has been imprisoned, he has lost his mother and father, whom he described to the
ACLU as “the center of my world.”229 His four children have grown up while he has
been behind bars; two are now in college and a third is headed to college, while his
eldest has become a father himself.230 Booker has never met his grandchildren.231
While in prison, Booker has taken more than 50 courses, earned his GED, and
written 52 books, including a published novel.232 He is currently a facilitator for
the Alternative Violence Preparation program, through which he teaches inmates
“how to transform their negative energy into a positive change.”233 His petition for
commutation of his sentence was denied on February 28, 2013.

“

The unfairness
of a life sentence
without parole
for Mr. Booker
will be a grossly
unjust result. [T]he
prosecutor wants
to lock up Booker
and throw the key
away forever. Even
bad apples should
be treated with
some semblance of
fairness.”
—Judge Terence T. evans

FeDerAL SySTeM

Teresa Griffin was 26 when she
was sentenced to spend the rest
of her life in prison for conspiracy
to possess and distribute cocaine
for her role in a drug distribution
operation masterminded by her
drug-dealing boyfriend, the father of
two of her children. She had no prior
criminal record.

Teresa Griffin
�

A Living Death: Case Studies 51

According to
Griffin, a federal
prosecutor
threatened that
she would never
see her children
again if she did
not testify against
her boyfriend. She
says her boyfriend
threatened her
from prison and
she was afraid to
testify against him.
“I had kids and I
was just scared.
I didn’t want
anybody hurting
my family.”

Griffin was working for the U.S. Food and Drug Administration and enrolled at
Orlando College in Florida when she says her Colombian boyfriend forced her to
quit her job, withdraw from college, and follow him to Texas. At the time, she was
21 years old and pregnant with her first child by him at the time. She says that her
boyfriend was extremely jealous and controlling, and that he forbid her to continue
her studies or work. She describes her decision to follow her boyfriend to Houston,
Texas, as a disaster. According to Griffin, he would take her car and disappear for
days or weeks at a time, and he sporadically contributed only $100 to $200 at a time
to the rent for the apartment she had leased in her name.
Griffin says that while she was still pregnant, she told him she was leaving him,
but he hit her and threatened to kill her and take her two children from a previous
relationship to Colombia if she left him.234 After the birth of their child, she recalls
he continued to disappear for weeks at a time. She and her three young children
survived on public assistance, and she started a data entry training program. She
says she purchased a car for her boyfriend in her name so that she could keep a car
to go to school and take the baby to the doctor.
One day, after the birth of their child, Griffin says her boyfriend called her to come
to Oklahoma and pick up a television for him. She made the trip and brought the
television back to Houston. A week later, he showed up in Houston and told her to
rent an apartment in Oklahoma for him. According to Griffin, soon thereafter her
boyfriend had her transporting drugs for him.
Griffin says her boyfriend repeatedly used her as a mule to transport drugs. She
would take a bus from Houston to Oklahoma City, carrying packages of cocaine
while her boyfriend flew to meet her there; after making the delivery, she would
return home to her children the same day, and he would remain in Oklahoma to
distribute the cocaine.235 She says he would pay her $1,000 for each trip; on one such
trip, she found him in bed with another woman.236 According to Griffin, in Houston
she frequently drove her boyfriend around after he lost his license, driving him to
and from drug sales. She also used her credit card to pay for places for her boyfriend
and his friends to stay.
Griffin recalls she began to fear for her and her children’s lives. She says that she
became scared to sleep in her home because dealers close to her boyfriend, their
girlfriends, and their children were being killed.237 After dropping her children off
at school, she would drive around Houston to make sure no one was following her
before she returned home. She says she finally told her boyfriend she was leaving
him and returning to Florida, but he threatened to take her children to Colombia.
She says she stayed in Houston because of his threats to her children. Her boyfriend
then started having her fly or drive to him to pick up cash proceeds from his drug
distribution activities.238
In October 1991, Griffin was arrested after police officers apprehended her and a
companion at the Oklahoma City airport with $38,500 of her boyfriend’s cash.239

52 American Civil Liberties Union

She was seven months pregnant with her second child by her boyfriend. Upon
questioning by police, who did not read her Miranda rights, she provided the
officers with a detailed description of her drug-related activities and led them to her
car, where approximately one-half pound of cocaine was found.240 She had never
been arrested before.
According to Griffin, a federal prosecutor threatened that she would never see her
children again if she did not testify against her boyfriend.241 She says he was afraid
to testify against him, explaining, “I had kids and I was just scared. I didn’t want
anybody hurting my family.”242 She says that her boyfriend threatened her from
prison, threatening to send his cousin to her mother’s house to take her children to
Colombia. She also says that she did not know the majority of her boyfriend’s co
conspirators, as her role in his operation was fairly limited and he conducted much
of his drug-dealing out of town. Unwilling to testify against her boyfriend and
unable to provide substantial assistance in the prosecution of his co-conspirators,
Griffin opted to go to trial.
The trial court concluded that Griffin and her boyfriend managed a cocaine
distribution ring, obtaining large amounts of cocaine in Houston and transporting
the powder cocaine to Oklahoma City, where it was converted into crack for sale
by resellers.243 The court found Griffin’s boyfriend had masterminded the entire
operation.244 According to an FBI special agent, it was one of the largest cocaine
distribution conspiracies in Oklahoma history.245 According to prosecutors, Griffin
was responsible for getting “mules” to transport the cocaine from Houston to
Oklahoma City, as well as heading the organization when her boyfriend was out
of town.246 Though prosecutors referred to her boyfriend of about five years as
her common-law husband and argued she ought to have had knowledge of all his
activities, she says he had other girlfriends and they lived together sporadically.

“

Being sentenced
to life without
parole was like
witnessing my own
death. I know I did
something wrong,
but not enough to
take away my life.”

Griffin was convicted of conspiracy to possess cocaine with intent to distribute,
unlawful travel in interstate commerce with intent to carry on unlawful activity,
and two counts of distribution of one kilogram of cocaine.247 The judge held her
responsible for the conspiracy’s distribution of 34 kilograms of crack cocaine, while
her boyfriend was held responsible for conspiring to distribute nearly 48 kilograms
of crack; both claimed their activities were limited to powder cocaine.
On account of the quantity and type of drugs involved, and because the judge found
Griffin to have held a leadership role in the conspiracy, she was sentenced to LWOP
on the conspiracy charge, as well as two concurrent 280-month sentences and a
60-month sentence.248 The co-conspirators who testified against Griffin and her
boyfriend in exchange for reduced sentences received sentences of five to 10 years,
according to Griffin. She recalls that her father cried throughout her sentencing.
Griffin says she was so distraught at her own sentencing that she did not fully
understand what had happened until she was given an antipsychotic, anti-anxiety
medication the next morning. She says, “Being sentenced to life without parole

A Living Death: Case Studies 53

was like witnessing my own death. It’s an ache I can’t explain: feeling lonely and
numb.”249
Griffin, now 47, has served 22 years in prison and says she feels immense remorse
for her actions. “I would give anything to turn back the hands of time. Just to
be able to make different decisions,”250 she says. “I know I did something wrong,
but not enough to take away my life.”251 She says that she feels constant sorrow,
depression, and pain over her sentence.
While incarcerated, Griffin has earned a business certificate from Tallahassee
Community College and works at the prison recreation center. She reports she
remains close to her mother and four children, and she mourns her father’s death
since she was incarcerated. According to Griffin, most devastating to her is that
her children, who were ages seven months, four, six, and eight when she was
incarcerated, have grown up without her and were raised instead by her aunt and
mother. Griffin says one of her daughters was sexually abused in her aunt’s home,
after which Griffin’s mother raised her daughters. Her son began acting out after
her incarceration and has not visited her since he was 16 because he says he cannot
handle visiting her in prison. Her youngest daughter, who was just an infant when
she began her sentence, is now 21 and has a severe disability. “I have been cut off
from my family by seeing my children grow through visitation,” Griffin told the
ACLU.252 “It is devastating. ’Cause I was always there with them every day…It’s hurt
me because I missed out on a lot of their lives and I can’t make that up.”253
FeDerAL SySTeM

Thomas Bryant Jr.
�

Thomas Bryant Jr., a former police
officer and first-time nonviolent
offender, was sentenced to LWOP
when he was 32 as the result of a
reverse sting operation by the FBi to
root out drug-related corruption in
the police force.
The oldest of eight siblings raised in a devoutly Christian family, Bryant served
seven years in the Army before he was honorably discharged and joined the police
force in Savannah, Georgia.254 A married father of five, he says he struggled to
support his children on his policeman’s salary. In order to support his family
and pay child support for three children from previous relationships, he took on
additional jobs as a security guard at grocery stores, dollar stores, and nightclubs.255
He recalls working so many hours a week that he would fall asleep on the graveyard
shift.

54 American Civil Liberties Union

In November 1995, when Bryant had been with the police force for five years, he was
approached by an old acquaintance from elementary school whom he had not seen
in 20 years.256 Bryant says that the acquaintance, a former felon who had become a
confidential informant, offered him a job working security at a new nightclub and
told Bryant he would pay him well to provide security while he transported powder
cocaine from one location to another.257 According to Bryant, other officers on the
force were already being paid to provide such security. He says he agreed to escort
couriers transporting cocaine into and out of Savannah, and provide security for
the cocaine while it remained in Savannah, on the condition that he never had to
see or touch the drugs or transport or store them himself.258
Bryant’s role was to drive behind a car containing one to two kilos of cocaine and,
if police stopped the car containing the drugs, to jump out of his vehicle and wave
them off with his badge. Over a one-year period, FBI officers had Bryant provide
protection services for 13 shipments of cocaine, paying him a total of $19,900
for his escort services.259 Bryant never saw the cocaine he was paid to protect and
assumes the sting operation either used fake cocaine or empty vehicles. Regarding
his involvement in the crime, Bryant told the ACLU:
In my mind, I saw an easy opportunity to charge the informant one,
two, four thousand dollars for escort and all along I’m thinking—if this
guy is gonna pay me good money to follow behind him in a separate
vehicle for his protection, and I don’t have to ever see the drugs nor put
it in my car, then I’m gonna take this easy money and if another police
pulls him over, I will keep going like I don’t know him! But all along
the joke was on me!260
The confidential informant also asked Bryant to recruit additional officers. Bryant
says that when he named several white officers he knew from the police academy
as prospective recruits, the informant told him they wanted only Black cops for the
operation.261 Bryant eventually recruited four other Black officers, including his
brother, to engage in these activities.262 Also at the confidential informant’s request,
Bryant procured and sold eight firearms to him in return for $1,700, as well as eight
grams of cocaine he obtained on the job.263 At times, Bryant and the other officers
were in possession of firearms while providing security for the cocaine.264

“

It feels like
you’re a walking
dead. You’re just
going to die and
never see society
again. In fact, if I
wasn’t spiritually
strong, it’s enough
to cause you to
consider suicide. It
is too demoralizing;
it seems like
something
meant to kill you
mentally.”

Bryant was arrested with 11 other police officers, all of whom were Black. He was
convicted of conspiracy to aid and abet the distribution of cocaine, attempting to
aid and abet the distribution of cocaine, distribution of cocaine, selling a stolen
firearm, providing a firearm to a convicted felon, and carrying a firearm during
a drug trafficking crime.265 In a federal presentence report, a probation officer
calculated the amount of drugs for which Bryant was responsible based on the
money received for each escort, determining he was responsible for 24.35 kilograms
of cocaine hydrochloride.266 During trial, an FBI agent testified that the confidential
informant was paid nearly $63,000 for his role in the operation and may also have
received a bonus.267

A Living Death: Case Studies 55

Although Bryant had no criminal record, he was sentenced to life without the
possibility of parole. He says of his sentence, “It feels like you’re like a walking
dead. They try to give you the impression that you’re just going to die and never
see society again. In fact, if I wasn’t spiritually strong, it’s enough to cause you to
consider suicide.”268 He admits that the hopelessness of his sentence has led him to
contemplate suicide. “It is too demoralizing; it seems like something meant to kill
you mentally,” he says.269
When he first arrived in prison, and whenever he was transferred to a new prison,
Bryant says he was placed in solitary confinement for his protection because of
his past work in law enforcement.270 The guards’ fears were well-founded: Bryant
reports that once, while being transferred to a new facility, he was assaulted by an
inmate who learned he was a former police officer.271
Bryant is now 48 and says he has served 16 years in prison without being reported
for a single disciplinary infraction.272 His five children, who were between the ages
of two and 13 when he was incarcerated, are now 18 to 29. In prison, he says he
has become “a Christian leader, mentor, counselor, minister of music, musician,
psalmist, and songwriter,” and has obtained an associate’s degree in theology.273 He
spends his time writing books, one of which he has published, titled “A Thug Cop’s
Redemption.”274 He works 20 to 30 hours a week sweeping the prison grounds, for
which he is paid $10 a month. If he were to be released from prison, he would work
with at-risk youth and continue publishing books.275
Bryant says he fully accepts responsibility for his actions and believes he has long
been rehabilitated. He told the ACLU, “I’ve gotten older and I was the type of
person that if I was sentenced to five years, I would have learned my lesson and
wasn’t planning on ever coming back to prison! For me, it didn’t have to take a life
sentence…I just need one last chance to get out and make right by my family and
community for the wrong choices I made.”276
FeDerAL SySTeM

Alice Marie Johnson is a first-time
nonviolent offender and mother
of five serving LWOP for drug
conspiracy and money laundering.

Alice Marie Johnson with her living
children and grandchildren.

56 American Civil Liberties Union

One of nine children, Johnson was born and raised in Olive Branch, Mississippi, by
a family of leaders in their African-American community. Johnson married and had
her first child, Tretessa, when she was only 15. Though she recalls the school board
tried to force her to drop out of high school, she refused to do so and graduated
with honors two years later before going on to complete some college. She says
she had always worked since she was 11. She held numerous professional jobs and

worked for the FedEx Corporation for 10 years, including seven in management.
She went on to have four more children, later divorcing their father in 1989.
A single mother trying to raise five children with no help from her ex-husband,
Johnson says she struggled financially. When she lost her job of 10 years in
December 1990 due to her gambling addiction, she recalls her life began to spiral
out of control. In 1991, she filed for bankruptcy and her house was foreclosed on;
she says she did not know how she would be able to pay her bills. After months
of unemployment, she found a job as a factory worker at a Kellogg’s factory in
Memphis, but she says her wages were insufficient to support her family. She began
to associate with people involved in drug dealing and says she became involved in
their drug conspiracy out of desperation. Her youngest son, Cory, then died in a
scooter accident at age 12 in 1992.
Johnson was arrested in 1993 and accused of participating with 15 others in a
drug trafficking and money-laundering operation that transported cocaine from
Houston and distributed it in Memphis from 1991 until September 1994.277 She was
linked to her co-conspirators primarily through numerous unrecorded telephone
calls made to and from her phone, and also through the testimony of 10 of her
co-conspirators who testified against her and others to avoid prosecution or receive
reduced sentences.278 At trial, she and one of her co-defendants were found to have
received numerous deliveries of cocaine from Houston, directed the distribution
of large quantities of cocaine in Memphis, and controlled the shipment of drug
proceeds back to Houston.279
Johnson says that she never personally made drug deals or sold drugs. She admits
that she relayed messages and allowed others involved in the drug conspiracy to use
her telephone. According to Johnson, when conspirators came to town, they called
her, and she contacted her co-defendant to inform him what telephone number to
use to reach them. She says she would give him coded messages such as, “Everything
is straight.” Occasionally, she says she temporarily held money for her co-defendant.
At the time of her arrest, she had recently purchased a commercial cleaning
company franchise; she had also purchased a house, for which she structured a
$26,000 down payment by purchasing three separate money orders for less than
$10,000 each.

“

It’s like a
waking death, it’s
like the person is
alive but they’re
not. They’re not
there; you can
talk to them, but
they’re not there.
There’s never a
point of closure,
ever. Never. It
never ends.”
—Tretessa Johnson, on her
mother’s sentence

Johnson was convicted of conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute cocaine,
attempted possession of cocaine with intent to distribute and deliver, money
laundering, conspiracy to commit money laundering, and structuring a monetary
transaction.280 It was her first conviction. She was sentenced to a mandatory sentence
of LWOP plus 25 years in 1997. The cooperating co-defendants who testified against
her received sentences ranging from probation without prison time to 10 years.
Johnson’s incarceration has been extremely difficult for her family. Her son spiraled
downward without his mother and is now incarcerated himself. She says, “When
I was snatched away from my son, two years later he dropped out of school. He
just went crazy. There was no guidance. He started living with friends in the

A Living Death: Case Studies 57

neighborhood; he said, ‘I just want to be in the last place that my momma left.’”281
To help pay her mother’s legal bills, her eldest daughter, Tretessa, took on a second
job, extra student loans, and an extra car loan.
Johnson is 58 and has served 16 years of her life-without-parole sentence. She says
of her sentence, “It feels like I am sitting on death row. Unless things change, I will
never go home alive.”282 According to Johnson, a close family member recently told
her, “Visiting you in prison is like going to a grave site. We can go to the place where
your body is located, but we can never take you back home again.”283
Tretessa says of her mother’s sentence, “There is no light at the end of the tunnel. It’s
like a waking death, it’s like the person is alive but they’re not. They’re not there; you
can talk to them, but they’re not there. There’s never a point of closure, ever. Never.
It never ends. It never stops. And this is life for you. It’s heartbreaking for me.”284 She
adds, “You can’t get closure, because it’s not like someone died. I feel bad saying this,
but it would have been easier if she had died.”285

“

It feels like I am
sitting on death
row. Unless things
change, I will never
go home alive.”

Tretessa says of her maternal grandmother, who has Alzheimer’s, “She went
through a really, really hard time. She would call me upset and crying quite a bit.
My grandmother was so deeply upset about my mom’s incarceration, and it’s like
her mind shut down. I wonder if her mind just wanted to forget. She doesn’t even
remember who my mom is now. It’s like a protective thing. It’s ironic she was in so
much pain and she got this forgetting disease. She cried more than my mother did,
and my mother was the one in jail.”286
Johnson says that she takes full responsibility for her actions, explaining, “I now
know that I’m just as guilty as if I had sold drugs myself… I live daily with the
pain and regret of my choices.”287 She says she has particularly struggled with being
unable to care for her sick mother and being physically separated from her children,
though she speaks with them regularly. Johnson’s close-knit family—comprised of
four children, four grandchildren, six siblings, and a host of nieces, nephews, and
cousins—remains supportive and eager to have her home.
Johnson reports she has maintained a clean disciplinary record throughout her
imprisonment. She became a hospice volunteer to help sick and dying prisoners,
helped coordinate the prison’s Special Olympics event for inmates with disabilities,
tutored other prisoners to help them obtain their GEDs, and served as a mentor
with the prison’s Choosing Healthy Alternatives and New Growth Experiences
program. She has taken numerous educational and vocational training programs,
including clerical and computer skills courses, Spanish language classes, and
self-help programs. She has held jobs with the prison’s business office, hospital,
chapel, and food service administration. She has written and directed many plays,
including a 100-person play about Jesus Christ that has been performed annually
for the past decade, and directs her prison’s Protestant praise dance ministry. While
incarcerated, she has also been ordained by proxy as a minister. She says, “Even
though I have had no out-date, I have still worked toward bettering myself and
preparing for a future outside of prison.”288

58 American Civil Liberties Union

FLOriDA

Roberto Ortiz is serving LWOP for his
first offense, a nonviolent drug crime
committed in the state of Florida.
Ortiz says his arrest resulted from a sting operation during which an acquaintance,
Orlando Adams, agreed to sell heroin to a confidential informant.289 Through a series
of tape-recorded conversations between Adams and the confidential informant,
police officers in Hillsborough County, Florida, had learned of an impending drug
deal and pulled over Adams’s vehicle in October 2001. According to Ortiz, when the
car was pulled over, he and Jorge Mictil, who had been living with Ortiz at the time,
were riding in the backseat, while a woman named Eileen sat in the front passenger
seat next to Adams.290 Ortiz was in possession of a gun at the time.291 While searching
the car, officers found two bags of heroin on the rear floorboard, near Ortiz.292 Ortiz
claimed that the drugs were not his and had been thrown in the backseat by Eileen
when police stopped the car.293 Officers subsequently searched Ortiz’s residence and
discovered 67 grams of heroin and drug paraphernalia.294
Ortiz was charged with trafficking between 14 and 28 grams of heroin, conspiracy
to traffic drugs, and trafficking between 286 grams and 30 kilograms of heroin.
Ortiz and Adams proceeded to trial; Mictil pleaded guilty and testified against them.
According to Ortiz, his attorney called only one witness during his trial.295 Through
cross-examination of the confidential informant, his attorney did demonstrate
that the informant had never met Ortiz, Ortiz was never heard on the taped
conversations discussing the drug deal, and he was not present when the heroin was
initially purchased.296
In September 2002, when he was 31, Ortiz was convicted on all counts and sentenced
to mandatory LWOP for heroin trafficking under § 893.135 of the Florida Penal Code,
which requires a life-without-parole sentence for certain first-time drug offenses.297
He received a mandatory minimum 30-year sentence for the other charges.298
Ortiz, who was born and raised in Puerto Rico, had only a fourth-grade education
and barely spoke English at the time of his arrest.299 He spoke through an
interpreter during his trial and says he was confused about many aspects of his
case. “I wasn’t informed, or, better said, I didn’t understand,” he recalls.300 Prior
to his incarceration, the father of four worked as a cabinet maker, truck driver,
and transport mechanic for a school bus company.301 He told the ACLU, “Before
I came to prison, my only intention was to be a good citizen and have a better life
progressively…All I’ve ever wanted to be, above all else, was to be a good father to
my children.”302

roberto Ortiz
�

“

When he told
me his story, I
could not believe
it. There [were]
inmates that were
in for rape or
killing someone
that were getting
out in 15 to 25
years. Something
is wrong with this
picture.”
—A prison corrections officer

Now 42, Ortiz has been incarcerated for more than a decade. He said that excessive
sentences like his “cause not only a distortion of one’s perception of the higher

A Living Death: Case Studies 59

governmental powers that be, but also tear down completely one’s life aspirations
of an onward successful life in all areas.”303 Once, Ortiz says, he served 30 days in
solitary confinement for greeting someone else’s family member during visitation.304
A corrections officer who worked at the prison where Ortiz is incarcerated told the
ACLU, “When he told me his story and that he was in prison for life, I could not
believe it. There [were] inmates that were in for rape or killing someone that were
getting out in 15 to 25 years. I had one inmate that was drunk and ran a stop light
hitting a van and killing six people, including children, and only got 30 years, and he
will be out in six years due to earning gain time. I kept thinking [that] something is
wrong with this picture.”305
“It’s a very sad thing,” Ortiz said, “to be taken out of your family and be charged
with such a massive charge that I got.”306 He says that it has been especially difficult
to be separated from his three sons and one daughter, who were only two, four, six,
and seven years old when he was incarcerated and “have a great need and desire
to see [their father] again in the free world.”307 Ortiz says he also longs to see his
ailing mother, who lives in Puerto Rico and used to travel to Florida for a month
every other year to visit him in prison. Ortiz has not seen her in many years and
says he misses the days he spent in Puerto Rico helping with her community service
work.308 He told the ACLU, “The only thing I ask God for is to give me the liberty to
be out of prison that I may have my mother in my arms again with what years she
has left.”309 He says he hopes to be released from prison so that he can spend time
with his family and get back to work.310 While in prison, he has taken a number of
wellness courses, and works from 4:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. at the prison laundromat.311
FeDerAL SySTeM

Altonio O’shea Douglas, a
51-year-old grandfather, has been
incarcerated for 20 years for his first
and only conviction.

Altonio O’Shea Douglas with his
mother, daughters, grandsons, and
nephew.

60 American Civil Liberties Union

One of 13 siblings, Douglas worked steadily from age 15 until he was laid off from
his job of several years at age 27. Unable to find another job to support his family, he
says he began dealing drugs to make ends meet. Less than three years later, Douglas
was accused with 23 others, including his father and uncles, of participating in
a large crack cocaine distribution operation that operated in Fort Worth for 18
months between 1991 and 1992.312 Following a trial with 16 co-defendants, Douglas
was convicted of conspiracy to possess and distribute crack cocaine; possession
with intent to distribute and distribution of crack cocaine; and use and carrying a
firearm during and in relation to a drug trafficking crime.313 The trial judge found
Douglas and his co-conspirators responsible for distributing 15 kilograms of crack
cocaine.314

When he was 31, Douglas was sentenced to LWOP. Had he been convicted for an equal
amount of powder cocaine instead of crack cocaine, he could have received a sentence
of 15 to 20 years. At sentencing, Judge Terry R. Means told Douglas that he had
demonstrated he was a compassionate person and caring father and remarked, “[I]t’s
not easy to give a sentence that the law seems to require.”315 Douglas says prosecutors
offered him a plea deal of only four years in prison if he testified against his co
conspirators; he says he refused because he would not testify against his relatives and
others he had known his whole life.316 Three of his uncles who were co-defendants in
his trial have since died in prison; all were in the 70s at the time of their death.317
“We’ve got murderers that get second chances, rapists that get second and third
chances, but here, Tony makes one mistake and his life is gone,” said Douglas’s
mother, Martha Waits.318 Douglas explains, “I decided to sell drugs mainly because
of two reasons. First, I needed the money. Second, everyone else around me was
selling drugs and getting what they needed. I did not take the time to sit down,
and to really think it through. The seriousness of the decision I was making, the
consequences, the pain for me and my family… Not in my wildest dreams, did I
think I would be given a life sentence for my decision.” He adds, “When I made my
fatal decision, I had a wife and kids at the time…but now, look at me; no wife, all
my kids have grown up without a father.”319
Douglas’s 11 children, the youngest of whom was three years old when his father
was incarcerated, are all in their 20s and 30s. He now has 23 grandchildren. He
laments that he was able to teach only one of his children how to drive: his eldest
daughter, who was a young teenager when he was incarcerated. “I watched my kids
grow up from in here. So much time, so many memories lost,” he says.320 He says
he has done everything he can to parent from within prison, regularly checking on
his children, sending them birthday cards, and making them annual presents such
as ceramic banks, clocks, and lamps. He remains in contact with all of his children,
who travel to see him every Father’s Day. “I thank God that my bond with them
hasn’t been broken,” he adds.321

“

It is very scary
to have to die in
prison. We all have
to die one day, but
you would like to
die around your
family. You die in a
place like this, you
just die in a room
by yourself.”

In the two decades Douglas has been incarcerated, he says he has focused on
acquiring skills and sharing them with other prisoners. Since completing a welding
training program, for the last five years he has taught other inmates the trade of
welding and fabricating metals. He was also selected by the prison to participate
in the Better Path program, through which he talks to troubled youth about
his experiences in prison and his past poor choices and advises them about the
opportunities they should seek to avoid repeating his mistakes.
If the crack/powder cocaine sentencing disparity were eliminated, Douglas would
be eligible for immediate release. He says, “It is very scary…to have to die in prison.
We all have to die one day, but you would like to die around your family. You die in
a place like this, you just die in a room by yourself. It’s terrifying to think that this
could possibly happen to you.”322

A Living Death: Case Studies 61

FeDerAL SySTeM

Luis Lazaro Viera has been
incarcerated for 24 years for his role
in a cocaine distribution operation in
Florida.
Viera was a passenger in a vehicle driven by another Latino man when they were
stopped by a Delaware state police officer in September 1987 for driving 62 miles
per hour, seven miles over the speed limit, on Interstate 95.323
Luis Lazaro viera
�

The officer searched the car and found two packages of cocaine hidden in the
backseat; Viera was arrested for possession with intent to distribute two kilos of
cocaine and released on bail. He says his attorney informed him that he would not
receive more than a seven-year sentence and advised him to plead guilty to the state
charges; instead, he was sentenced to 15 years after pleading guilty.

“

When I look in
the mirror, I see
that I get older, but
at the same time,
time stops. I can’t
achieve anything
or help my family.”

Two months after sentencing, based in part on the same drugs seized in the
Delaware state case, Viera was indicted with 10 others on federal drug conspiracy
charges. Although the district court ruled that the search of the car was
unconstitutional in Viera’s case, the appellate court overruled that decision and
allowed the drugs seized on the interstate to be used against Viera at trial.324 He was
convicted of conspiracy to distribute and possess with intent to distribute crack
and powder cocaine, largely due to the testimony of co-defendants who received
sentence reductions and unindicted co-conspirators who received immunity in
exchange for their assistance.325 At trial, Viera was found to have been a member of
a drug distribution operation that sold large quantities of crack and powder cocaine
out of Gainesville, Florida.326 He was found to have supplied cocaine to several of
his co-conspirators. Because of the large drug quantities involved, and also because
he was an organizer of the conspiracy and carried two firearms, Viera was sentenced
to LWOP at age 30.327 His only prior conviction was the related Delaware state
conviction.
Viera is now 54 and has served 24 years in prison. He says of his sentence, “When
I look in the mirror, I see that I get older, but at the same time, time stops. I can’t
achieve anything or help my family.”328 He adds, “I lost my whole youth in prison,
but I live with the hope of walking out of prison one day.”329 Viera remains close
to his 89-year-old Cuban-born mother and says that the worst aspect of his
imprisonment is not being able to help her. Prior to his incarceration, he worked
with his mother selling and delivering silk flowers and teaching floral arranging to
senior citizens. He dropped out of school in the ninth grade to work and help his
mother with living expenses. While imprisoned, he has earned his GED and held the
same prison job for more than 20 years.

62 American Civil Liberties Union

FeDerAL SySTeM

Rudy Martinez is serving a
mandatory LWOP sentence for his
first conviction, for his involvement in
a drug conspiracy from age 22 to 25.
Martinez, who is Mexican-American, was born and raised in Chicago. He says he
never knew his father and his mother suffered from depression and alcoholism.330
Martinez’s older, drug-dealing brother went to prison when he was 15. According to
Martinez, he followed in his brother’s footsteps and began selling marijuana joints
at age 12 and cocaine at age 14; he says he saw drug-dealing as a way out of his
childhood poverty after witnessing how hard his mother worked to earn $45 a week
at a laundromat.331 He was expelled from school after completing the ninth grade
and left home at age 16.332 Martinez explained that he takes full responsibility for his
actions and he does not want to use his upbringing “as a cop-out either, because it’s
a cheap cop-out.”333

rudy Martinez with his son, Julian,
at the federal prison in Allenwood,
Pennsylvania, in 2004. Julian was
four years old when his father was
incarcerated.

Martinez was sentenced to a mandatory LWOP sentence for his involvement in a
St. Paul drug ring that operated out of a farmhouse in Pine County, Minnesota,
and in Chicago from 1988 to 1991. Six members of the drug ring were charged
with conspiracy to distribute cocaine. Cindy Pluff, the owner of the farmhouse and
alleged ringleader of the drug ring, testified against Martinez pursuant to a plea deal
under which she served less than three years in prison. Martinez claims Pluff gave
false testimony against him and has since admitted that she lied about the extent of
Martinez’s involvement in the conspiracy.334
According to Martinez, he met Pluff when he was 19 and working as assistant
manager of a Chicago nightclub owned by a man involved in distributing cocaine
on Chicago’s North Side. Pluff became a cocaine distributor in the Twin Cities, and
Martinez says his boss at the nightclub was one of her suppliers until his death, after
which Martinez assumed the role at age 22. According to prosecutors, Martinez and
others provided Pluff with cocaine that she then sold in Minnesota. After a raid on
the Minnesota farmhouse in February 1991, Martinez, then 25, turned himself in.
He admitted that he sold drugs and had an illegal business relationship with Pluff,
but he has consistently denied being the head of the organization and says he did
not know about the drug-dealing operation in Minnesota, but was simply one of
Pluff ’s suppliers.335
Martinez was charged with conspiracy to distribute cocaine. According to
Martinez, the prosecutor offered him a plea deal of eight years if he cooperated
by identifying and testifying against his supplier, which he rejected. Three days
later, a superseding indictment was brought against Martinez, charging continuing
criminal enterprise and increasing the alleged amount of cocaine the drug ring had

A Living Death: Case Studies 63

distributed. Martinez says Pluff later wrote to him that federal authorities pressured
her to testify to increased amounts of cocaine and to say that Martinez was her
only source. In a letter on file with Martinez, Pluff wrote, “There was no way [the
amount of cocaine] was that much…. Besides, it wasn’t all you. There were other
people…[t]hey wanted us to focus on you.”336 Pluff also later wrote an affidavit
confirming that she had exaggerated the amount of cocaine sold by the drug
ring.337 Martinez was convicted of running a continuing criminal enterprise that
sold cocaine and conspiracy to distribute cocaine. He was sentenced to life without
parole, a mandatory sentence, on the continuing criminal enterprise charge.

The prosecutor
offered Martinez
a plea deal of
eight years if he
identified and
testified against
his supplier,
which he rejected.
Sentencing him to
life without parole,
the judge objected
to the mandatory
sentence and said,
“Fairness has
departed from the
system.”

At sentencing, Judge Milton I. Shadur told Martinez that he “simply does not have
discretion” in sentencing him to LWOP and was troubled by the federal sentencing
guidelines, which “evidence…more trust in prosecutors than in federal judges.”338
Judge Shadur added, “[F]airness has departed from the system. It is no longer the
operative standard for federal judges. And as a result in a way it is sort of an insult…
to the process to talk of fairness within the context of standards that to such a great
extent do not involve considerations of fairness.”339
Judge Shadur later reflected on Martinez’s case in an appearance on the “MacNeil/
Lehrer NewsHour,” “It seems to me…that it’s very difficult to say that, that someone
in that position is sufficiently hopeless in terms of redemption.”340 In a letter to a
journalist investigating Martinez’s case, Judge Shadur wrote that the case is “a prime
example of the way in which the guidelines could operate in an inappropriately
disparate manner.”341 Judge Shadur noted that Pluff was “the principal offender in
a conspiracy in which the jury found Mr. Martinez to have been a participant,” and
added that Pluff ’s significantly shorter sentence “made it particularly troubling that
Rudy Martinez, then in his middle twenties, should have a life sentence imposed
under the mandate of the guidelines.”342
Martinez has served 22 years in prison. All of his co-defendants have been out of
prison for more than a decade. A strict federal statute enacted since Martinez was
sentenced, the Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996, bars him
from appealing his case and taking advantage of a Supreme Court ruling that struck
down the mandatory nature of the sentencing guidelines used to incarcerate him for
the rest of his life.
Martinez says it has been particularly difficult to be separated from his two sons,
Edwin and Julian, who were ages three and four when he was incarcerated. When
asked about his sons he becomes too emotional to speak, so he wrote to the ACLU,
“No words could ever fully describe the pain within when you know that you will
never spend any type of quality time with your children, for the rest of their lives. I
wish that on no parent.”343 Martinez says he talks with his sons and granddaughter
about once a week, but he is not able to see them as often as he would like, as he is
incarcerated about nine hours away from them.344
While in prison Martinez, has earned his GED and completed close to 200

64 American Civil Liberties Union

programs, including a 500-hour drug treatment program, Alcoholics Anonymous,
parenting classes, a web design class, and other educational classes.345 Although he
had never read a book before he was incarcerated, he is now an avid reader. He has
been imprisoned in federal prisons in Kansas, Pennsylvania, Illinois, and Kentucky,
where he is currently incarcerated.
FeDerAL SySTeM

Elisa Castillo, a Texas grandmother
with no criminal record, says she never
saw or touched the drugs that sent her
to prison for the rest of her life.
Convicted of participating in a drug-smuggling conspiracy for her role in a
Houston-based bus company, Castillo was sentenced in May 2009 to LWOP for the
nonviolent crime.
An immigrant from Mexico, Castillo dropped out of school when she was 14. She
says she was struggling to make ends meet; she had to pawn her jewelry in order
to pay the rent on her southwest Houston home, and she relied on her son to pay
her electric bill with his credit card.346 She worked as a bus station ticket-taker and
recalls she dreamed of owning her own bus. According to Castillo, she acted on the
advice of her boyfriend, a bus driver, and became partners with a resident of Mexico
who wanted to set up a Houston-based bus company. The Mexican businessman
sent her money to purchase three tour buses that would travel between Mexico
and Houston; they were kept in her name. She says her Mexican contact sent her
money to cover bus company expenses but never paid her the monthly salary she
was promised. She maintains that she did not know she was being used as a pawn
in a cocaine trafficking operation between Mexico and Houston and that she was
unaware that the buses were outfitted with secret compartments in which cocaine
was stashed.347

elisa Castillo, a grandmother, is
currently incarcerated at a Fort
Worth, Texas, federal prison.
Photo credit: Cody Duty / Houston
Chronicle (2011)

In part because she was unable to provide any valuable information to federal
agents that could lead to the arrest and prosecution of the leaders or other highlevel members of the drug conspiracy, Castillo received the harshest sentence of
the approximately 68 people convicted for their involvement in the scheme.348 Her
boyfriend, who had involved her in the conspiracy, was sentenced to only 25 years.
She was sentenced to LWOP under federal sentencing guidelines as a manager of the
conspiracy. Now 57, Castillo is known as “Grandma” at the federal prison in Fort
Worth, Texas, where she is incarcerated. When her toddler grandson visits her in
prison, he believes he is visiting her in the hospital.

A Living Death: Case Studies 65

FeDerAL SySTeM

George Martorano has served 30 years
in prison for managing a large drug
distribution enterprise. He believes
he is the longest-serving first-time
nonviolent offender sentenced to LWOP
in the federal system.
George Martorano with his daughter,
Francesca, who was four years old
when he was imprisoned.

Now 63, Martorano
has served 30 years
in prison. “When I
came in, they called
me ‘the kid.’ Now
they call me ‘pops.’”

Martorano says he dropped out of school at age 15 and began selling marijuana
to friends. By 1980, he had joined smugglers flying marijuana from Jamaica to
Florida. According to prosecutors, the ring eventually also distributed cocaine,
heroin, methamphetamine, and Quaaludes. After a 15-month undercover FBI
operation involving informants and taped phone conversations and meetings,
Martorano was arrested in September 1982 at age 31. The government seized 3,000
pounds of marijuana, two kilograms of heroin, and 300,000 fake Quaaludes.349
Martorano was charged with 19 counts of managing a continuing criminal
enterprise, drug possession, and conspiring to distribute large quantities of cocaine,
methamphetamine, methaqualone, and marijuana.
According to Martorano, on the advice of his lawyer, he pleaded guilty to all of the
charges against him, assuming he would receive a 10-year sentence at the most.
He had no prior convictions—not even a traffic ticket. The federal Presentence
Investigation Report recommended that he be sentenced to 40 to 52 months in
prison, but the sentencing judge sentenced him to life. Because parole was abolished
in the federal system in 1987, Martorano is now serving life without parole.
Martorano, now 63, has served 30 years in prison. “When I came in, they called me
‘the kid,’” he says. “Now they call me ‘pops.’”350 He calls his imprisonment a “waking
nightmare.”351 Since he has been incarcerated, his wife died of cancer, his son was
killed in a motorcycle accident, and his father was murdered. He remains in close
contact with his elderly mother and daughter.
While in prison, Martorano has become a prolific writer. He has written more than
31 books, including several novels and a published autobiography about growing
up in an Italian-American community in Philadelphia, nine screenplays, poetry, and
numerous short stories about life in prison. He has bartered cookies for typing paper
and cigarettes for ballpoint pens to write his manuscripts. For decades, he has taught
inmates reading and creative writing, he counsels suicidal prisoners, and he reports
he has not been written up for a single disciplinary infraction in 30 years.352 He says,
“I’m not the person I was. I worked hard to change. If they would give me a chance,
they would see that. As far as the streets are concerned, it’s over with.”353

66 American Civil Liberties Union

NONVIOLENT TEENAGE OffENDERs
�
FeDerAL SySTeM

Reynolds Wintersmith Jr. is a firsttime offender who was sentenced
to a mandatory LWOP sentence at
age 20 for his involvement in a crack
cocaine conspiracy starting when he
was 17 years old.
Wintersmith says he grew up surrounded by family members and family friends
who used drugs and cooked, packaged, and sold crack cocaine. According to
Wintersmith, both of his parents were drug addicts. After his mother, a heroin
addict, died of a drug overdose when he was 11 years old, he went to live with his
grandmother, who sold crack and operated a brothel out of her home. Prior to
moving in with his grandmother, Wintersmith recalls his lowest grade was a B. After
living with her for a year, he says his highest grade was a C, and he started receiving
mostly Ds.354 Although still a child himself, he frequently had to take care of his
three younger siblings. Social services agencies failed to investigate complaints of
child abuse and neglect. While living at his grandmother’s as a young teenager, he
says his aunts taught him how to cook crack. When he was 16, his grandmother
was imprisoned for selling drugs and he was left responsible for contributing to the
rent and electricity bills and supporting his younger siblings.355 He says he secured
a summer job at a local Red Lobster restaurant, but on only $4.25 an hour, and
without a car or reliable public transportation to get to work, he ultimately quit his
job at the restaurant and began selling crack cocaine on the street.356

reynolds Wintersmith Jr.
�

In 1992, when Wintersmith was 17, he dropped out of high school.357 He became
involved with a drug ring in Rockford, Illinois, and began selling cocaine for
them. The drug ring sold crack and powder cocaine out of various drug houses in
Rockford and was highly organized, with several levels of management, including
runners, lookouts, and supervisors. The members of the operation owned guns and
carried them on a regular basis, but the case against them did not include charges
that the defendants committed any specific acts of violence. Wintersmith was
arrested shortly after his nineteenth birthday, a year after becoming involved in the
drug ring. He and 19 others were indicted in federal court for their participation in
the conspiracy. Wintersmith declined a plea offer of 10 years’ imprisonment, and
says he was unaware he faced a mandatory life-without-parole sentence when he
chose to go to trial. Wintersmith was convicted of conspiracy to distribute and to
possess with the intent to distribute crack and powder cocaine, and possession of
crack cocaine. Although he was a street dealer, Wintersmith was convicted as part

A Living Death: Case Studies 67

of the much larger drug conspiracy case, and he was held accountable for the entire
amount of cocaine sold by the conspiracy during his one-year involvement.358
Even though Wintersmith had no criminal record, was convicted of nonviolent
drug crimes he became involved in as a juvenile, and was still a teenager when he
was arrested, he was sentenced to a mandatory life-without-parole sentence in
1994.359 His sentence was the product of disparately harsh crack sentencing policies.
According to his clemency attorney, if he had sold the same—or almost triple—the
amount of cocaine, but entirely in its powder form, the federal sentencing
guidelines would have required just 30 years’ imprisonment. However, because he
distributed crack as well, the guidelines mandated a life sentence.360

Even though
Wintersmith had
no criminal record
and was still a
teenager when he
was arrested, he
was sentenced to
mandatory life
without parole for a
drug conspiracy he
became involved in
as a juvenile.

When sentencing Wintersmith, U.S. District Judge Philip Reinhard told him,
“Under the federal law I have no discretion in my sentencing. Usually a life sentence
is imposed in state courts when somebody has been killed or severely hurt, or you
got a recidivist, that is, a defendant who’s been convicted time and time again. This
is your first conviction…and here you face life imprisonment. I think it gives me
pause to think that that was the intention of Congress, to put somebody away for
the rest of their life.”361 Judge Reinhard added, “Even though…there ought to be
some latitude for the court to take that into consideration when you have a 17-year
old who gets involved…there is not another alternative available.”362 Judge Reinhard
told Wintersmith that he could hope that “something will change in the law” and he
could be released at an earlier date as a result.363
Wintersmith is now 39 and has spent half his life in prison. During his nearly two
decades in prison, he has completed multiple educational and vocational programs.
He completed 4,100 hours of teaching apprenticeship and has become a U.S.
Department of Labor-certified teacher’s aide.364 He tutors other inmates, works as a
certified victim impact counselor, and serves as a companion for suicidal prisoners
as part of a federal inmate suicide prevention program. As a federal community
re-entry mentor, he counsels prisoners on how to be productive members of
society following their release from prison, an opportunity he does not share with
the prisoners whom he mentors.
Wintersmith’s appeals have been exhausted, and in March 2012 he filed a petition
for commutation of his sentence, which is pending. His daughter, Chonte’, wrote in
support of the commutation petition:
Even though my father has been away from me physically, he’s been
there for me mentally. My father and I have a really close relationship; I
can talk to him about anything. He always makes me smile even when
I’m down…My father has served almost 20 years already; he didn’t get
a chance to see me grow up…Every girl deserves to have their father in
their life. Obama, please commute my father’s sentence…I miss him so
much and I just want him to have a second chance at life.365

68 American Civil Liberties Union

If Wintersmith’s clemency request is granted, he says he intends to continue
teaching and counseling. He is incarcerated in a federal prison in Greenville,
Illinois. He writes, “My past mistakes—though serious in nature—were done in
the ignorance of my youth. I grew up without a mother or father in what was
considered a drug-house. I was surrounded by drug use and drug deals. I had
nothing else to compare that life to. What I saw daily was what I believed.”366 He
adds, “The person I have grown into was my way of apologizing to everyone I have
ever wronged.”367
FeDerAL SySTeM

Donald Allen was sentenced to serve
two life-without-parole sentences
when he was just 20 years old.
Allen grew up living for periods of time with his grandmother in Alabama; his
mother in Panama City, Florida; and his father in Albany, New York. He says he
became involved in selling drugs after witnessing his father selling drugs from time
to time. At age 14, he began selling marijuana to friends at a nightclub, and by
age 15 he started selling crack cocaine. At the time of his arrest, Allen worked at a
Kmart.
At age 19, Allen was arrested with two co-conspirators following a controlled drug
buy that took place in a truck. According to Allen, in December 1997, he and his
brother-in-law, Michael Montalvo, discussed selling crack cocaine that Montalvo
had brought to Panama City, Florida, from Atlanta.368 Allen says that while he was
present, Montalvo sold three-quarters of an ounce of crack cocaine to a four-time
convicted felon.369 The buyer later testified that he had twice bought drugs from
Montalvo in the past in Allen’s presence, and that he had made arrangements
to buy additional crack from Montalvo later that night.370 The buyer’s brother
was incarcerated in federal prison at the time. Reportedly in an effort to obtain a
sentence reduction for his brother, the buyer contacted the police to inform them of
the impending drug deal and serve as a confidential informant.371
Later that night, Allen and Montalvo drove to the buyer’s house to complete the
drug deal. Allen says that he sat in the passenger seat, Montalvo drove, and a third
co-conspirator sat in the backseat.372 According to Allen, after he met the buyer at
the door and explained he had to deal directly with Montalvo, the buyer entered
the truck and negotiated the price with Montalvo.373 Upon the buyer’s signal at the
conclusion of the deal, police entered the vehicle and found the crack cocaine, two
firearms, and cash. According to Allen, when police subsequently searched him and
his house, they did not find any physical evidence.374

Donald Allen with his sister, nieces,
and nephews.

Allen’s conviction
was based in part
on the testimony of
his brother-in-law
and a confidential
informant, both
of whom received
sentence reductions
in exchange for their
cooperation.

Montalvo pleaded guilty to conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute crack
and cocaine and the use or carry of a firearm during the commission of a drug

A Living Death: Case Studies 69

trafficking offense; he agreed to cooperate with the government.375 Allen proceeded
to trial on the same charges.376 His conviction was based in part on the testimony of
his brother-in-law and the confidential informant, both of whom received sentence
reductions in exchange for their cooperation.377 Although Allen maintains that he
had no involvement in the deal itself, the court found that his actions constituted
conspiracy and possession.
Allen complains that his court-appointed lawyer did not provide adequate legal
representation. Moreover, he says his lawyer was also defending the confidential
informant’s brother—the man whose possibility of receiving early release from
prison motivated the informant to cooperate with police, and who therefore directly
benefitted from Allen’s conviction.378

“

I came in when
I was only 19 years
old and I have
almost spent the
same amount of
time in prison that
I have lived free. I
have been locked
up my entire adult
life thus far.”

Allen was convicted of possession of crack cocaine with intent to distribute,
conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute 421 grams of crack cocaine, and
possession of a firearm during a felony drug offense.379 Shocked upon hearing
the verdict, he said, “I simply did not know that I could be convicted of showing
someone where someone lives at because I knew they were going to sell them
something illegal.”380
In 1998, Allen was sentenced to two terms of life without parole, plus a mandatory
minimum sentence of five years on the gun charge.381 His LWOP sentence was
mandatory because of two prior state convictions. Earlier that year, he says he had
pleaded guilty to a charge of simple possession of two small rocks of crack cocaine,
committed when he was 17, as well as possession of cocaine with intent to distribute,
committed just after his nineteenth birthday.382 Though the offenses took place
more than a year apart, he pleaded guilty to both on the same day in May 1997. He
received probation for both crimes, but was subsequently sentenced to 20 months in
prison when he violated probation by committing the federal drug offenses.
Following his 20-month sentence in state prison for his prior convictions, Allen
was transferred to federal prison, where he will remain for the rest of his life. He
said that he was “too young to really understand” the implications of his sentence at
the time.”383 What hurt the most, he said, “was the fact that my mother cried in the
courtroom and I was able to hear her sobs.”384
Allen is now 35 and in his fifteenth year of incarceration. He told the ACLU, “I came
in when I was only 19 years old and I have almost spent the same amount of time
in prison that I have lived free. I have been locked up my entire adult life thus far.”385
He says, “It’s hard being separated from his family,” especially “being shipped all
over the country and my family not being able to come and visit me…I have seen
my nieces and nephews grow from little kids, which I used to walk to the bus stop,
into mothers and fathers. All from prison. I have a nephew named after me because
my brother thinks I will never get out of prison to have my own.”386 Allen has never
seen his namesake nephew. After a decade and a half in prison, Allen says he has had
only seven visits—about one every two years.

70 American Civil Liberties Union

Allen spends his time crafting leather, learning Spanish, participating in church
activities, and working a prison job. He reports that he has a clean disciplinary
record. Despite having to grapple daily with the reality of his sentence, which he
refers to as “the pain of foreverness,” he remains optimistic: “[I]t’s been hard, but you
must find hope in all situations…I do the best that I can with what I have and that is
all I can do. Regardless of my current situation, I simply strive for a better day.”387
FeDerAL SySTeM

Pinkney Clowers III is serving life
without parole for a drug conspiracy
he was accused of participating in
from age 15 to 19.
His only prior run-ins with the law were minor fines for loitering and reckless
driving at age 17, as well as probation for twice pleading guilty to possession of
small amounts of marijuana at age 19. According to Clowers, while he was being
held in county jail for one of these marijuana arrests, two federal agents asked
to speak with him about drug-dealing activities about which he says he knew
nothing.388 Clowers says the agents threatened to charge him if he did not cooperate,
which he did not. Eight months later, he was arrested following a traffic stop, when a
police search of his car revealed the end of a smoked marijuana cigarette, a revolver,
and cash.389
At the time of his arrest in November 1991 at age 20, Clowers was expecting a
child. Raised in Macon, Georgia, he had just started a D.J. service and landscaping
business, and he says he was trying to find ways to provide for his new family.
According to the trial court, he had been a member of a drug ring in Macon as a
young teenager, starting when he was 15.390 The court found that after the ring was
broken up, Clowers and one of the former leaders went into business for themselves,
selling crack cocaine.391 According to prosecutors, the two eventually recruited
others to do the street-level dealing and commit robberies to finance their drug
operations; Clowers was never charged with participating in a robbery offense.
He was convicted primarily on the basis of witnesses who testified against him in
exchange for reduced sentences.

Despite his minor
criminal history,
and the fact he had
become involved in
the drug conspiracy
at age 15, Clowers
was sentenced to
mandatory life
without parole
because of the
amount of drugs
determined by a
federal probation
officer.

Two days before his twenty-first birthday, Clowers was convicted of conspiracy to
distribute crack cocaine, operating a continuing criminal enterprise involving 15
kilograms of crack cocaine, conspiring to interfere with commerce, and conspiring
to use or carry firearms in the commission of drug trafficking crimes.392 The drug
amounts he was held responsible for were not charged on the indictment, proven
in court, or determined by a jury; they were adopted by the sentencing judge based
on a determination by a federal probation officer, even though no crack or powder
cocaine had been seized by the authorities.393 Despite his minor criminal history,

A Living Death: Case Studies 71

Clowers was sentenced to a statutory mandatory sentence of life without parole
because of the amount of drugs determined by the probation officer.394

Clowers is
particularly
baffled as to how
a teenager could
be found to have
run a continuing
criminal enterprise,
a charge normally
reserved for drug
kingpins.

Clowers adamantly denies participating in any such drug distribution enterprise.
He admits he is not an angel and says that growing up in the “hood,” he knew
people involved in drug activities but was not “a street guy” himself.395 He says he
believes he was charged because he refused to serve as an informant. He reports he
is particularly baffled as to how a teenager could be found to have run a continuing
criminal enterprise, a charge normally reserved for drug kingpins, remarking, “How
can a 15-, 16-, 17-year-old run a continuing criminal enterprise?”396
Clowers is now 41 and says he has become a different person in the more than
two decades since his youthful conviction. He writes, “A person who is twenty and
one who is forty are worlds apart. So the differences are great. A certain degree of
understanding and patience can come with time.”397 He has earned his GED and has
taken almost every educational class available to him; he says he views education as
a “master key…to unlock [my] potential and live a prosperous and successful life.”398
Long interested in philosophy, while in prison he says he loves to read, meditate,
“and travel with my spirit and mind.”399 As a follower of the Tree of Life school of
thought, he says he is “fighting for my freedom and trying to align with the positive
aspects of my destiny.”400 If he is released from prison, he says he would like to
“contribute my part in making the planet just a little better” and “travel and seek
ways to help others and myself.”401
His son, born just a few months after Clowers began his life sentence, is now a
college student. Clowers laments that they “have never spent a single day in the ‘free
world’ together.” 402 He says being in prison is painful, “especially when feeling and
hearing the struggles that my loved ones may be going through. Or when thinking
about the fact that I have a son whom I’ve never been able to spend time with,
provide for, or watch and help grow into a young man. Just as painful as to know
I have a mother who has spent many nights suffering, petitioning, and praying.”403
Yet, he remains positive. “On the other hand, I believe that there is good that can be
taken from every experience, even adversity. And this is what I try daily to focus on,”
he says.404
FLOriDA

in 1991, just one week before his 20th
birthday, Ira Bernard Parker was
sentenced to serve the rest of his
life in prison without the possibility
of parole for sale and possession of
cocaine within a school zone.
72 American Civil Liberties Union

He had a series of prior convictions for drug-related crimes committed during his
teenage years, during which he says he made “friends with bad company” and was
influenced by “peer pressure, alcohol, and drugs.”405
Parker, who is Black, was born partially deaf in both ears and says he has always
relied heavily on his family and others who know about his disability to help him
understand things.406 He was first convicted of sale or purchase of cocaine for acts
committed when he was 16 years old. He was sentenced for this crime, as well as two
additional charges of sale or purchase of cocaine and one charge of battery of a law
enforcement officer committed when he was 17, in 1989 at age 18. The following
year, he was convicted of possession of cocaine and of being a felon in possession of
a weapon, both offenses he had committed when he was 18.
Parker has been in prison for 23 years, during which he says he has matured. He
told the ACLU, “When I was a child, I talked like a child. I thought like a child. I
reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.”407
Since his incarceration, he has surrounded himself with positive influences such
as his family, which he says have made him “become a better person inside and
outside.”408 Sadly, since his imprisonment his father, mother, brother, and two sisters
have passed away.409 He says he remains close with his son, daughter, three sisters,
nieces, nephews, and cousins, and works to set a positive example for them and his
two grandchildren.410
Parker was recently transferred to a prison far from home. “It is very hard for me
here,” he told the ACLU, “’Cause I cannot obtain [a] visit from my family…I have
a lot of time here, I can only go to the law library once or maybe twice a month for
one hour for each day.”411 He spoke of missing life outside the prison walls: “It is
beauty of life, that you will never be able to see again and the thought of you never
being able to spend those moments that only happen once in a chance of a lifetime
with the people you love and care about.”412

Sentenced to life
without parole at
age 19, Parker says
he has matured
during his 23 years
in prison. “When
I was a child, I
talked like a child.
I thought like a
child. I reasoned
like a child. When
I became a man, I
put childish ways
behind me.”

Now 42, Parker says he hopes for an opportunity to prove how much he has
changed and have a second chance at being a part of society. Prior to his
incarceration, the highest level of education he had completed was eighth grade.413
In prison, he has earned his GED and participated in the vocational trade and
literature programs, and he has worked in food service. He spends his time
educating himself, reading, and analyzing the law. He told the ACLU, “I made a
commitment to Father and Mother…I will make drugs my enemy and stay out of
jail and prison…I have a reason to live and be happy. No burden. No reason to mess
with drugs. I will not disappoint myself.”414

A Living Death: Case Studies 73

TYING JUDGEs’ HANDs:
MANDATORY LIfE WITHOUT
PAROLE
Mandatory sentencing laws require harsh, automatic LWOP
prison terms for defendants convicted of certain federal and
state crimes. Under these federal and state laws, judges have
no discretion to consider the facts and circumstances of the
crime or mitigating factors such as the defendant’s age, history
of abuse, parenthood, mental illness, or substance abuse issues.
These mandatory sentencing laws generate unnecessarily
harsh sentences, tie judges’ hands in considering individual
circumstances, and empower prosecutors to force defendants to
bargain away their constitutional rights. The rise of mandatory
sentences is discussed in more detail in Section V(A).
Under current law, 15 states and the federal government
mandate life without parole for certain nonviolent offenses.
Based on data obtained by the ACLU, nonviolent offenders are
currently serving mandatory LWOP sentences in the federal
system, Alabama, Florida, Illinois, Louisiana, Mississippi,
Oklahoma, and South Carolina. Prisoners may be serving
mandatory LWOP for nonviolent crimes in additional states.
There are two forms of federal mandatory sentences
under which defendants convicted of nonviolent offenses
are currently serving LWOP. The first, federal mandatory
minimum sentences, establish mandatory drug sentences,
which increase exponentially based on prior convictions, based
on the weight of the drug for which the criminal defendant is
held accountable. The second are sentences meted out under
the federal Sentencing Guidelines, which were created in 1987
and apply in all federal cases. The guidelines were mandatory
until 2005, when the Supreme Court decided in United States
v. Booker that the mandatory nature of the guidelines was
unconstitutional.415 Since 2005, the guidelines have been
advisory, which means that judges must still use and consider
them but can sentence outside of them when the facts of the
case, the uniqueness of the offender, or justice demand it.
However, because Booker is not retroactive, federal prisoners
who were sentenced to mandatory LWOP under the pre-2005
Sentencing Guidelines have been unable to obtain retroactive
sentence reductions, even in cases where the sentencing judge
objected to the mandatory sentence required at the time.
Moreover, Booker did not change any mandatory minimum
sentencing laws, and judges must still apply statutory

74 American Civil Liberties Union

mandatory minimum sentences, unless one of two narrow
exceptions applies to the defendant.
A handful of states have instituted mandatory LWOP sentences
for certain drug offenses. In Alabama, the simple, or even
constructive, possession of 56 grams of LSD or heroin, or of
10 kilos of cocaine, triggers a mandatory LWOP sentence for
drug trafficking.416 Similarly, an individual convicted of selling a
mere two ounces of heroin in Mississippi must receive LWOP.417
In addition, state habitual offender laws require mandatory
LWOP upon conviction for a broad range of petty drug,
property, and other nonviolent offenses; these are described in
more detail in Sections V(B) and VI(D) of this report.
Following are case studies of nonviolent offenders who were
automatically sentenced to die in prison. In almost all of these
cases, the sentencing judge objected to the sentence and clearly
stated on the record that he or she believed the required LWOP
sentence was disproportionate and inappropriate in the given
case, but his or her hands were tied.
TABLE 14

Jurisdictions that mandate LWOP for certain
nonviolent offenses

1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16

federal government
Alabama
Arizona
Delaware
florida
Georgia
Illinois
Iowa
Louisiana
Michigan
Mississippi
Missouri
Oklahoma
south Carolina

Wisconsin
Wyoming

FeDerAL SySTeM

stephanie Yvette George, a single
mother of three, is serving life
without parole for drugs her former
boyfriend had stored in a lockbox in
her attic and for her minor role in a
crack cocaine conspiracy.
She received a mandatory LWOP sentence because of prior convictions for selling
small amounts of crack cocaine several years earlier. George has never been accused
of committing a violent crime.
Despite becoming pregnant with her first child during her senior year, George
graduated from high school after her son’s birth. According to George, after high
school she moved into her own apartment and entered into a series of relationships
with men who sold crack cocaine. She soon had two more children, both of whom
were fathered by men who sold drugs and were not involved in their children’s
lives. Struggling to support her children, she worked a series of jobs as a sales clerk,
receptionist, housekeeper at a hotel, patient assistant at two nursing homes, and
beautician in her hometown of Pensacola, Florida.
A 23-year-old single mother struggling to support three young children on her
salary, welfare, and food stamps, George says she became involved in her boyfriends’
criminal activities and sold crack in order to help pay the bills. According to George,
these boyfriends used her home to store money and drugs, and she sometimes
handled drugs and money and took messages for them. In October 1993, police
arrested George when they found her sitting on the front porch of a house next to
a bag containing cocaine residue; she confessed she had crack in her bra, turned it
over to officers, and received probation. In November 1993, she was convicted of
selling two crack rocks to a confidential informant for $120; in December, she and
several co-defendants sold the confidential informant $40 of crack, and officers
found four pieces of crack and drug paraphernalia in her home. George pleaded
guilty to these state charges and was sentenced to nine months in a work-release
program; she worked at a hair salon during the day and was imprisoned at the
county jail at night.418

Stephanie George
�

Dickey had the
key to the safe
and confessed the
cocaine, money,
and paraphernalia
were his. Although
Dickey was the
leader of the
drug conspiracy
and had a longer
prison record, he
was released from
prison more than
five years ago.

Michael Dickey, the father of one of George’s children, was involved in selling
drugs and imprisoned in the early 1990s for drug and firearm offenses. When he
was released from prison in 1995, he resumed distributing crack cocaine. Shortly
thereafter, in August 1996, police searched George’s apartment in Pensacola, Florida,
with a warrant and found a safe in her attic containing 500 grams of cocaine
and $13,710. In the bedroom, police found cooking utensils used to turn powder
cocaine into crack. Dickey had the key to the safe and confessed the cocaine, money,

A Living Death: Case Studies 75

and paraphernalia were his, and George adamantly insisted she had no idea the
drugs were hidden in the attic of her home. At the time of her arrest, she reports she
had no cash, no bank account, and no property other than her car.

“

Your role has
basically been as a
girlfriend and bag
holder and money
holder. So certainly,
in my judgment,
it doesn’t warrant
a life sentence. I
don’t really have
any choice in the
matter.”
—Judge roger vinson

At George’s jury trial, six cooperating witnesses, all of whom admitted they had
sold large quantities of cocaine, testified that George was paid to store the cocaine
in her apartment, was present during drug transactions conducted by Dickey
and other drug dealers she had dated, and had delivered cash or crack for these
boyfriends. Although George denied these uncorroborated accusations, she was
convicted of conspiracy to possess crack cocaine with intent to distribute, and
she was held accountable for the 500 grams of cocaine in the attic safe, 500 grams
Dickey said he sold, and an additional 290 grams of crack based on the cooperating
defendants’ historical testimony. George’s sentence was enhanced for obstruction of
justice because she testified that she had no knowledge of and did not participate in
Dickey’s drug activities.
Because of her 1993 minor drug offenses, George was categorized as a career
criminal, which mandated a life-without-parole sentence—significantly longer
prison time than her five co-defendants. Under mandatory sentencing, the judge
was prohibited from considering 26-year-old George’s minor role in the conspiracy.
Judge Roger Vinson told George at her sentencing hearing, “Even though you have
been involved in drugs and drug dealing for a number of years...your role has
basically been as a girlfriend and bag holder and money holder. So certainly, in my
judgment, it doesn’t warrant a life sentence.”419 Unfortunately, Judge Vinson had
no other choice. He told George, “I don’t really have any choice in the matter…. If
there was some way I could give you something less than life I sure would do it, but
I can’t. Unfortunately, my hands are tied...I wish I had another alternative.”420
In exchange for their testimony (termed “substantial assistance”), her co-defendants
avoided mandatory sentences like George’s and instead each received reduced sentences
of less than 15 years in prison.421 Although Dickey was the leader of the drug conspiracy
and had a longer prison record, he was released from prison more than five years ago.422
George’s children, who were ages four, six, and eight when she was incarcerated, are
all now in their early 20s. She says that having her children grow up without her
has been an “ordeal.”423 She says she talks to her children every Sunday and though
her sister raised her children, she tries to parent from prison. “Trying to raise them
from here is tough. My oldest son does the most crying, reaching out,” she says.
“It’s a hurting thing for everybody.”424 She says she wishes she could return to guide
her children through early adulthood and help raise her five young grandchildren,
explaining, “I feel like if I was there, they would make better decisions about life.
Even though they’re grown up, if I can get there, they will still have a chance to
make it. That keeps me going, too; I pray and ask God to keep them safe until I can
get there and help them out.”425
George’s children desperately miss their mother. Her daughter, Kendra, says, “My
mom has been incarcerated for 15 years of my life…I wasn’t able to get that motherly

76 American Civil Liberties Union

advice or lay my head in her lap when I was feeling hurt or sad. I wish she was around
to talk with me, see me off to the prom, or come see me graduate from high school…I
miss her so much.” 426 Her youngest son, William George, said he misses his mother’s
comfort: “It hurts me every day to wake up and not be able to see her...Words can’t
explain the hurt and pain I deal with day to day and how I truly miss her.”427 He added,
“She has been away from me for too long and I need her more now than ever.”428 His
mother was unable to help him, and William was murdered in October 2013.
George, now a 43-year-old grandmother, has been imprisoned for 16 years. While
in prison, she has earned more than 30 skills certificates, received a certificate in
business administration and management, and has nearly completed an associate’s
degree in business. She has taken numerous counseling and self-improvement
classes addressing anger management, healthy relationships, drug abuse, and
domestic violence. She says she has developed profound faith through weekly Bible
study classes and church services. She says that she “want[s] more than anything
to have the opportunity to be a part of the solution [rather] than the problem that
plagues society.”429 To pay for her weekly calls to her children, which cost 23 cents a
minute, she works two prison jobs: an eight-hour data processing job that pays 92
cents an hour and a four-hour overtime shift at a call center that provides directory
assistance to phone companies.
FeDerAL SySTeM

Ricky Minor, a self-described meth
addict at the time of his crime, was
sentenced to LWOP after just over
one gram of methamphetamine and
over-the-counter decongestants
were found in his home.
Minor was born and raised in Niceville, a town in the Florida Panhandle. He says
he began using drugs at 13, dropped out of school at 16, and became addicted to
cocaine at 20. He ran a carpet installation business for 15 years, married, and tried
to be a responsible father to his daughter and two stepchildren, but he says he
struggled with depression and drug addiction; after a period of sobriety, he became
addicted to methamphetamine in 1998.

ricky Minor with his daughter,
Heather. Now 19, Heather was
seven years old when her father was
sentenced to life without parole.

Minor was convicted of a number of nonviolent prior offenses, most of which he
says were committed under the influence of drugs or alcohol. He did not serve
any time for these prior offenses, which included convictions for assault and
trespass in 1991 for yelling at a neighbor who had poisoned his dogs; convictions
for battery and breach of peace in 2000 for bumping a vehicle with his car after a
verbal confrontation with another driver; and several convictions for possession of
marijuana, cocaine, or methamphetamine.430

A Living Death: Case Studies 77

In 2000, acting on a tip from a confidential informant, police found 1.2 grams
of methamphetamine dissolved in liquid in Minor’s home. They also found an
over-the-counter decongestant (pseudoephedrine), acetone, matches, and lighter
fluid. Although there was no meth lab in Minor’s home, the Drug Enforcement
Agency estimated that 191.5 grams of methamphetamine could have been produced
from the decongestant pills, an estimate that sentencing guideline experts later
determined was far too high.431 Minor says he never sold meth and reduced the
recipe to make only enough to support his and his wife’s addiction.432

“

I had a drug
problem, but hurt
someone? Never. I
never even carried
a gun. I was raising
a family. I was a
responsible person,
and all this was
destroyed and my
life was taken away
from me over some
sinus pills.”

Initially, Minor was charged under state law; he recalls he was told he faced a twoand-a-half-year sentence. He says the prosecutor threatened to “bury [him] in the
federal system” if he would not cooperate, but he refused to snitch on others.433 Two
months after his arrest, he was indicted under federal law and faced a mandatory
life-without-parole sentence because of his prior crimes. He pleaded guilty to
attempting to manufacture methamphetamine. According to Minor, his federal
public defender told him that his wife would be prosecuted and likely sentenced to
10 years if he chose to go to trial, and he says he felt he had no choice but to plead
guilty in order to avoid leaving their three children parentless.434
Minor was sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a career criminal in August 2001.435
Judge Clyde Roger Vinson, an appointee of former President Ronald Reagan,
said when sentencing Minor, “The sentence…far exceeds whatever punishment
would be appropriate…. Unfortunately, it’s my duty to impose a sentence. If I had
any discretion at all, I would not impose a life sentence…I really don’t have any
discretion in this matter.”436 Minor’s mother, Judy Minor, told the ACLU, “I was
sitting in the courtroom when it happened, and it was all I could do to stay seated
in my chair. I was so shocked. I just couldn’t believe they could do that to him. For
what they didn’t find…no money, no violence.”437 Minor told the ACLU, “For this
to happen to someone like me, I was devastated…. I had a drug problem. I had
been dabbling in drugs all my life, but hurt someone? Never. I never even carried
a gun…. The hardest thing is how minor the crime that I did was, and my past
history, and I get this lifetime sentence.”438 He added, “I was raising a family. I was a
responsible person, and all this was destroyed and my life was taken away from me
over some sinus pills.”439
Minor’s nuclear family has fallen apart since his incarceration in February 2001. He
and his wife divorced. His stepson died of a drug overdose. His ex-wife, who also
struggled with drug addiction, was unable to care for their daughter. Minor’s retired
parents have been raising his teenage daughter, Heather, since he was incarcerated
when she was seven years old. Heather told the ACLU that when her father was
sentenced, “I was so young I didn’t grasp that for the rest of my life he wouldn’t
be here. At 10, I started to grasp that he would never come home and I’d be alone
forever and that was how it was going to be.”440 She added, “It’s hard being a young
girl being without your dad. I was so close to my dad; he was my right-hand man
and we were inseparable. It’s hard being separated from him…just his presence
alone would make things easier for me.”441Minor told the ACLU that “it’s been an
absolute nightmare” to be separated from his family.442 He said, “Being away from

78 American Civil Liberties Union

my daughter, my biological child, being as close as we are, it tore us both up…. It
messes with your head because you want so bad to be there for her and you can’t.”443
He says he talks to Heather at least once a week and e-mails her every day. Minor’s
parents, who are both in their late 70s, continue to financially support Heather,
who was the first person in the family to graduate from high school and is pursuing
advanced education. Minor’s mother says Heather has always been “really devoted
to her daddy,” and they have struggled to schedule their visits to see Minor, who is
incarcerated 10 hours away in Salters, South Carolina, so that Heather does not miss
too much school or work.444
During his 12 years in prison, Minor has earned his GED and taken classes in
computer skills, business, real estate, and accounting. He reports he has stayed sober
since his incarceration and completed a 40-hour drug abuse education class, but is
not eligible for the 500-hour residential drug treatment program because he will
never be released from prison. He is now 50 years old and says that he is a changed
man since getting sober.
FeDerAL SySTeM

A father of three, Dicky Joe
Jackson was sentenced to LWOP
for a methamphetamine conspiracy
because he transported and sold
drugs to pay for a life-saving bone
marrow transplant and other medical
treatments for his sick son.
Jackson was born and raised on a dairy farm in Boyd, Texas. When he completed
tenth grade, he left school to begin working in the trucking industry with his
father. Jackson purchased his own truck when he was 27 and continued to work
in the trucking industry until his incarceration. He says that he began to take
speed when he was only 17 in order to stay awake during long truck routes, just
as his father did.445 In 1988, Jackson was convicted of possession of one-half
gram of methamphetamine when an undercover informant posing as a trucker
asked to bum a pill from him at a Florida truck stop. In 1989, he was convicted of
transporting more than one kilogram of marijuana, for which he served one year in
county jail in Tylertown, Mississippi. Shortly thereafter, he lost his truck due to legal
fees. While he was in jail, his two-year-old son, Cole Jackson, was diagnosed with
Wiskott-Aldrich Syndrome, a rare immunodeficiency disease.

Dicky Joe Jackson with his wife and
three children, April, Jon, and Cole,
shortly after he was sentenced to
serve life without parole 17 years ago.

A year after his youngest son’s diagnosis, doctors determined that a bone marrow
transplant was required to save his life, without which they said he would likely
not live to the age of five. Jackson’s 11-year-old daughter, April Anderson, was a

A Living Death: Case Studies 79

perfect match to serve as a bone marrow donor for her baby brother. According to
Jackson, the family’s insurance company raised their monthly premium, and when an
automatic deduction of their monthly fees did not clear the family’s bank account, the
insurance company they had used for years terminated their coverage. Jackson says he
made $20,000 a year, too much to qualify for government assistance, but too little to
afford the $250,000 bone marrow transplant and other medical bills for his son’s care.
Through fundraisers, the family was able to raise $50,000, not nearly enough to cover
the life-saving surgery. According to Jackson, after the transplant, his son’s monthly
treatments cost around $4,000, and the family remained uninsured. Owing $200,000
in medical bills and struggling to support his family and recently widowed mother,
Jackson says he began driving his deceased father’s 18-wheeler truck.

“

It’s like someone
dying but not being
put to rest, that’s
what happened to
my family. It’s just
an ongoing misery
for everyone. I wish
it were over, even
if it meant I were
dead.”

Jackson transported livestock and produce from Texas to California. According
to Jackson, the supplier—from whom he was purchasing small amounts of
methamphetamine, which he says he took to stay awake while trucking—told him
he was buying the methamphetamine in California and asked Jackson to assist with
transporting the drugs back from California.446 He says his supplier offered to pay
him well because he knew of his son’s medical expenses. He maintains he decided
to utilize the family business to transport drugs to California and back in order to
make the money necessary for the lifesaving surgery. He says he transported the
drugs in his truck on a monthly basis for about a year.
In 1995, Jackson sold half a pound of methamphetamine to an undercover officer,
and he, his younger brother Tommy, and the supplier were arrested and charged
with participating in a methamphetamine conspiracy. The supplier testified against
Jackson, claiming that he was the ringleader of the conspiracy, in exchange for
which the supplier was sentenced to 10 years in prison. Jackson was convicted of
conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute methamphetamine, possession with
intent to distribute methamphetamine, being a felon in possession of a firearm, and
possession of an unregistered firearm. The district court judge found that Jackson
and his brother were responsible for 81.5 kilograms of methamphetamine and
concluded that Jackson was the leader of the conspiracy.447 More than 40 members
of the community wrote to the sentencing judge asking for leniency because of
Jackson’s family’s plight. Jackson and his brother received mandatory minimum
sentences of life without parole.
Jackson has been incarcerated for 17 years. His youngest son, Cole, who was only
five years old and gravely ill when Jackson was incarcerated, is now 22. He says that
he first understood his father’s sentence during the long drive home after visiting his
father in a federal prison in Kansas, explaining, “I was about six years old and it took
us so long to get there. We were driving on the way back and it hit me that he will
never come home again, we’ll always have to drive to visit him, and I’ll never have a
dad like my friends have.”448
Jackson says he speaks with his mother, three children, and three grandchildren
every two or three days. After he lost his last appeal, he says he divorced his wife of
19 years to allow her to get on with her life. He told the ACLU, “It’s like someone

80 American Civil Liberties Union

dying but not being put to rest, that’s what happened to my family. I would rather
have had a death sentence than a life sentence. It’s just an ongoing misery for
everyone…. I wish it were over, even if it meant I were dead.”449
Jackson, who is 55, says he has never had a disciplinary report filed against him. He
reports he has taken every drug and alcohol abuse program for which he is eligible
and has not used drugs since he was incarcerated. He has completed more than 20
living skills and educational classes on business and other subjects. He volunteers as
a companion for suicidal prisoners. He said, “When these guys get hopeless, I sit with
them and talk to them—and this is coming from a guy who has no hope. They’ll get
out in two years and I’m doing life and I’m the one talking them down.”450
Jackson says that he knows he has done wrong and takes responsibility for his
mistakes, but he would like “one more chance at life so I could be with my kids
and grandkids.”451 If he were released, he says he would like to talk to youth about
the dangers of drugs. His commutation petition was denied on February 28, 2013.
The federal prosecutor who tried Jackson’s case wrote a letter supporting clemency
for Jackson. The prosecutor, now a criminal court judge in Dallas, wrote, “I saw no
indication that Mr. Jackson was violent, that he was any sort of large scale narcotics
trafficker, or that he committed his crimes for any reason other than to get money
to care for his gravely ill child.”452

A Daughter’s story:
April Anderson, daughter
of Dicky Joe Jackson
I’m not going to cry this time. I’m going to be strong. I
didn’t cry yesterday, I should be able to handle this. It’s not
like it’s the first time I’ve had to go through this. I’ve been
doing this for over 18 years now. That’s what I keep telling
myself as I stare across the aisle at my Dad. As the time for
us to leave approaches, you can almost feel the tension, the
unease. Dad’s as upset as I am, but he always puts on a good
front. He usually suggests we leave a little early because
leaving is the ‘elephant in the room’ that we’re all trying to
avoid. “Ya’ll go on and head home and get some rest. Don’t
worry about me, I’m fine.” It’s the same stuff every time.
The fact is that Dad’s getting old. He’s only 54, but 18 years
in a federal prison has a way of wearing you down and aging
you. He takes 7 pills a day, mostly for high blood pressure.
My grandfather died just after his 55th birthday, and I’m
well aware of the implications. Not a single day goes by

that I don’t think of my Dad and worry about him. If
I don’t get one of our cherished 15-minute phone calls
on a regular basis, I begin to get even more concerned
that something is wrong. For all I know, he could be
dead and it could be some time before I was contacted.
The thought of my Dad sitting day after day, hour after
hour in a federal prison breaks my heart. It seems that
regardless of where he goes the prison seems to stay
in lockdown at least 30% of the time. That means no
e-mails and very limited phone calls. Most pains dull
with time. Unfortunately, having a loved one incarcerated
is not one of those pains.
How did we get here? Simply put…drugs. My Dad’s
decision to participate in illegal drug trafficking has
affected my life in such a profound way. I remember the
first time the SWAT team raided our home. I was in the
ninth grade. It was still dark outside. I had gotten up to
get ready for school and was sitting at the dining room
table eating a bowl of cereal. I’ll never forget mom in her
nightgown stepping out the front door with her hands up

A Living Death: Case Studies 81

and seeing what seemed like hundreds of red laser dots all
over her body from the guns’ scopes. I was terrified.
Shortly after the SWAT raids, my dad went to trial. My dad
received three life sentences and three ten-year charges
on top of that. All for a nonviolent drug offense. I still
remember sitting in the courtroom on that day and hearing
Judge McBryde say “life” over and over. I will never forget
my mom standing up in the courtroom and screaming,
“No! You can’t do that! You’re not God! You can’t just take
him away.” The overwhelming sense of desperation and
sorrow as my mother screamed in that courtroom had
such a profound impact on me that to this day I can’t read
that part of Dad’s transcripts without breaking down.
Unfortunately, Dad was taken away, and he’s been gone for
over 18 years now.
The effect of Dad’s decision extends so far beyond the
obvious incarceration. Kids need their Dad in their life. At
14 years of age, I was no different. Seeking acceptance, my
relationship with my boyfriend became extremely intense.
The relationship became abusive and controlling, but I
felt trapped. After two and a half years and a restraining
order, I was finally able to get out of the relationship.
Unfortunately, the deep need for acceptance from someone
did not flee with the relationship. For many years, my
relationships seemed to take on the same pattern. Inside, I
believed I deserved the abuse.
Bitterness and grief have a way of bringing out the worst
in a person. My relationship with my mom was difficult to
say the least. Mom was stressed, as she was trying to deal
with being a single mother to three children, one of whom
was chronically ill. I remember mom being completely
shunned by the community as well. She’d show up at a
basketball game to see me play, and people would literally
get up and move away from her. I’d look up and she’d just
be sitting there by herself. The transition wasn’t easy on
any of us. Mom pulled my middle brother out of school
because he was getting in so many fights. The kids would
constantly make remarks about how he didn’t have a Dad
around. He received his diploma through homeschooling.
Dad wasn’t there to go to my ball games or see me off on
my first date. He missed my graduation and walking me

82 American Civil Liberties Union

down the aisle. As I’ve gotten older, he’s also missed the
birth of my three children. There have been countless
times in the last 18 years that I have wanted to pick up
the phone and speak with my Dad. Countless times, I’ve
sincerely needed his advice or his loving guidance. I can’t
drop in and visit him when I have an issue that I want to
discuss.
Instead, I’ve traveled to five different states visiting
my father in federal prisons over the last 18 years. Our
relationship has consisted of supervised visits heavily
laden with rules and regulations and the occasional
15-minute phone conversation. Rather than going out to
eat or sharing a meal around a table, we’ve opened bags of
chips within earshot of armed guards. Our family pictures
are all the same—Dad in some hideous colored jumpsuit
while we all try to smile for the camera. My family
vacations are primarily centered around whatever prison
my Dad happens to be in at the time. Visiting prisons is
an experience in itself. The rules change with each visit,
depending on the guard on duty.
My children have only known my Dad incarcerated. They
have no idea how Dad loves wrestling around on the floor
at night or how he would get more excited preparing for
our annual Halloween party than me. They only know
him as the grandpa in the jumpsuit that lives in prison.
When they were younger it was difficult to explain. At
10 and 11, it’s still hard to comprehend the concept of
forever. “Papa’s never going to get out?” “Well, we can only
pray that something will change,” I keep telling them.
Every birthday cake provides another year lost and
another opportunity to blow out the candles and make
the same wish I’ve made since I was 14. I’ve also done my
part to devastate the ever-growing dandelion population
in the last 18 years with hundreds of wishes sent up
to God. It hasn’t been a walk in the park, and most
families find it difficult and often too overwhelming to
maintain relationships with their incarcerated loved ones.
Fortunately, we’ve managed to maintain some semblance
of normality considering the circumstances. We continue
to pray for change, and we strive to educate the public
about the truth behind the prison system.

FeDerAL SySTeM

Timothy Tyler is a vegan Deadhead
who was sentenced in 1994, at
age 24, to two mandatory LWOP
sentences for conspiracy and
possession with intent to distribute
LSD because of 5.2 grams of LSD he
mailed to a confidential informant.
Tyler grew up in Connecticut with his mother, stepfather, and sister; as a teenager,
he says he moved to Florida to live with his father and escape physical abuse at the
hands of his stepfather. After graduating from high school, he traveled around the
country to follow the Grateful Dead and became a regular user of LSD. According to
Tyler, LSD was a spiritual sacrament to him, and he overdosed on the drug several
times, triggering episodes of mental illness that required hospitalization in mental
health institutions. He sold fried dough at Grateful Dead concerts and would feed
other Deadheads for free when they could not afford food.453
In 1991, when Tyler was 21, he was arrested twice for selling small amounts of LSD
and received probation both times. In May 1992, he sold marijuana and LSD to
a friend who had become a confidential informant and was setting up drug buys
for federal law enforcement in exchange for a lighter sentence. Five times over
the course of two months, Tyler mailed hits of LSD to the informant; he says he
believed he was sharing a spiritual experience with a friend and remained unaware
he was being set up. In August 1992, when he was 23, he was arrested and charged
with three co-defendants, including his father.
Tyler pleaded guilty to possession of LSD with intent to distribute and conspiracy
to possess LSD with intent to distribute. According to Tyler, his public defender
told him pleading guilty would get him a reduced sentence of 21 years. Instead, he
was sentenced to mandatory life without parole on each count because of his two
previous convictions and the amount of LSD he was convicted of selling. Because
the judge counted the weight of the “carrier” paper the LSD was placed on in
addition to the 5.2 grams of LSD, Tyler was held accountable for selling more than
10 grams of LSD, a threshold amount that triggers a mandatory minimum sentence
of life in prison without the possibility of parole on a third offense.454

Timothy Tyler with his mother and
sister.

Because the judge
counted the weight
of the “carrier”
paper the LSD
was placed on
in addition to
the 5.2 grams of
LSD, Tyler was
held accountable
for selling a
threshold amount
that triggers
a mandatory
minimum LWOP
sentence.

Tyler reports he was never made aware of the fact that there was a mandatory
minimum life-without-parole sentence before he pleaded guilty. As the sentence
was mandatory, the judge could not consider Tyler’s drug addiction, lack of violent
conduct, mental health issues, or young age. Without the mandatory minimum

A Living Death: Case Studies 83

based on his prior offenses, Tyler would have received a sentence of 262 to 327
months under the federal sentencing guidelines.
Tyler attempted to file a pro se motion for post-conviction relief based on ineffective
assistance of counsel, which was denied because the filing deadline had passed. His
father was sentenced to 10 years and died in prison in 2001. The informant was
sentenced to 10 years in return for his cooperation.

His sister said,
“It’s worse than
a death in your
family, and I’ve lost
a lot of loved ones.
It’s never-ending
because he’s still
there and your
heart just keeps
breaking over and
over.”

84 American Civil Liberties Union

Tyler has served almost 21 years in prison. He told the ACLU that he “lost [his]
mind” after his first 10 years in prison. He has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder,
for which he has been periodically hospitalized in mental health institutions
since he was a teenager.455 After more than a decade in prison, he was transferred
to Springfield Mental Hospital for treatment for a year; he returned to prison
afterward.456 Despite his mental illness, he has been repeatedly held in isolation.
He was recently held in isolation due to a prison-wide lockdown following the
murder of a prison guard. As a result of the stress of isolation and being deprived of
essential contact with his family, he told the ACLU he suffered a mental breakdown
in March 2013, during which he was banging his head against the walls, singing at
the top of his lungs while naked, and spreading feces on himself.
In addition, Tyler came out as gay five years ago, and he says he struggled with
isolation and fear of becoming a target for violence.457 During the first two years
after he came out, he reports he never went to the dining room to eat for fear he
would be assaulted.458 He says he became depressed and nearly took his own life
because of the isolation that followed his coming out.
Tyler says of his sentence, “Life, it says, but life means you die in prison.”459 His
sister, Carrie Tyler-Stoafer, who talks with her brother every other day and calls
him her best friend, told the ACLU that Tyler struggles to cope with his sentence
to die in prison. She said, “If he had a release date he could look forward to—he
has nothing to look forward to, no release date—it would change everything. He
was looking forward to 2012, the end of the world, because at least he would get
out. For a decade, he was looking forward to that date, and he was so disappointed
when it didn’t happen. He keeps his hope alive by using his mind to play tricks on
himself…. A release date would keep him going to help him get through this.”460 She
explained of her brother’s sentence, “It’s worse than a death in your family, and I’ve
lost a lot of loved ones. It’s never-ending because he’s still there and your heart just
keeps breaking over and over.”461

FeDerAL SySTeM

Addicted to methamphetamine in
his early 20s, scott Walker was
sentenced to LWOP at age 26 for
selling drugs with friends in southern
illinois, which he began doing in
order to pay for his drug addiction.462
Walker’s parents divorced when he was six years old.463 According to Walker,
his father physically abused his mother, inflicting injuries that once required
her hospitalization for days, an incident Walker recalls from when he was in
kindergarten.464 Two years after they divorced, Walker’s father was killed in a
motorcycle accident.465 Walker says he turned to marijuana at age 14 or 15 in
an effort to cope with the resulting emotional distress.466 He recalls becoming
psychologically addicted, and his drug use escalated to LSD, cocaine, and
methamphetamine.467 As a result of his drug addiction, he dropped out of high
school on three occasions before dropping out permanently during his senior
year.468 After his family moved from southern Illinois to Arizona when he was 17,
Walker began purchasing small quantities of drugs in Arizona and taking them to
Illinois for resale to support his drug addiction.
When Walker was arrested in 1996, 500 grams of marijuana were seized from
him. On the basis of testimony of several of his co-defendants who cooperated in
exchange for sentence reductions, Walker was convicted of conspiracy to distribute
and possession with intent to distribute methamphetamine, marijuana, and LSD.469
It was his first felony conviction; previously, he had committed two petty juvenile
offenses—for stealing a bicycle in November 1988 and theft of aluminum gutters
from a yard in 1989, when he was 17 years old—and had adult misdemeanor
convictions for underage consumption of alcohol at age 19 and criminal trespass at
age 22.470
Walker was sentenced at age 26 to life without parole, a mandatory sentence due
to the calculation of his offense level, which was based on an aggregation of all the
drug quantities that cooperating co-defendants testified about, plus increases for his
leadership role; possession of a gun; obstruction of justice; and his use of minors,
including his younger brother, to commit the offense.471 His offense level was also
increased because of his prior petty offenses and because he was on probation for
a misdemeanor for which he had not served jail time. His co-defendant, Timothy
Conway, the supplier and alleged kingpin of the conspiracy who was 20 years older
and had two prior felony drug convictions, served less than five years in prison.
Conway initially received a sentence of only 71 months because the government
stipulated to a significantly reduced drug amount in exchange for a guilty plea;

Scott Walker
�

When Walker was
arrested, 500 grams
of marijuana were
seized from him.
On the basis of
testimony of several
of his co-defendants
who cooperated
in exchange for
sentence reductions,
he was convicted
of conspiracy to
distribute and
possession with
intent to distribute
methamphetamine,
marijuana, and LSD.

A Living Death: Case Studies 85

the sentence was further reduced because of his testimony against Walker. Walker
states that his first lawyer encouraged him to take his case to trial despite the
overwhelming evidence against him; he also says that his attorney never told him
that he faced a life sentence without parole if he was convicted. Walker would likely
have received a five- to 10-year sentence if he had cooperated, and 20 years if he
had pleaded guilty rather than go to trial. In recognition that 20 years would have
been the most likely outcome of his case at the time, Walker’s commutation petition
requests that his sentence be reduced to 20 years rather than seek immediate release.

“

As a judge, as
a citizen, and as a
taxpayer, I see no
reason that this
individual should
spend the rest of
his natural life
incarcerated.”
—Judge J. Phil Gilbert

Judge J. Phil Gilbert, a former prosecutor and appointee of former President George
H.W. Bush, had no discretion in sentencing Walker to die in prison. Judge Gilbert
told him at his sentencing hearing in 1998, “[T]o do what I am compelled to do
under the law is not easy for me. If you think it’s easy to sit up here and impose a
life sentence on someone, it’s not. And there’s no question you need to be punished
severely for what you have done. Whether this is the right sentence or not, is not
for me to judge. I have to apply the law and apply the facts to the law, and I’ve done
that here. And it’s a very harsh sentence, but that, as I said, is not for me to decide,
but I want you to know that it’s not easy on this Court to impose a life sentence
on anybody. This isn’t the first time I’ve done it. I hope it’s the last because I don’t
like to do it.”472 Calling the sentence “excessive and disproportionate,” Judge Gilbert
added, “[M]aybe somewhere down the line Congress will relieve the people in your
position,” and he encouraged Walker to write to legislators in Washington.473
Judge Gilbert wrote in support of Walker’s pending commutation petition, “Mr.
Walker’s fourteen years of incarceration read like a handbook on self-improvement,”
concluding, “As a judge, as a citizen, and as a taxpayer, I see no reason that this
individual should spend the rest of his natural life incarcerated.”474 Judge Gilbert
later told the Southern Illinoisian that Walker’s sentence continues to haunt him,
explaining, “There have been times that I’ve had to render decisions, such as in
the sentencing area with sentencing guidelines and mandatory minimums, that
are dictated by the law. In one particular case, I had to give a life sentence to an
individual who I didn’t feel deserved it. That affected me for quite a while, day and
night, and there was nothing I could do about it.”475
Now 41, Walker has been incarcerated for almost 17 years. He has maintained a
clean disciplinary record with the exception of one minor citation for remaining
in bed following a work call.476 He reports he has been sober for 16 years and has
completed self-awareness, values, drug education, literature, and correspondence
courses.477 Walker’s mother, Brenda Shelton, has been raising his teenage daughter
since taking custody of her when Walker was incarcerated. His daughter said:
My father never forgets to send me cards on holidays. He writes me
letters, calls me on the phone and on birthdays and Christmas, and
always tries to see I have a gift of some kind from him. Most of all, he
talks to me about staying in school and away from drugs, alcohol, and
people that are involved in drugs. He tells me he has been in prison

86 American Civil Liberties Union

a long time because of his bad decisions, but it would be worth it if I
never make the same mistakes.478
If he were released, Walker says he would like to go to college to earn a degree
in social rehabilitation.479 Recognizing the hurdles he would face in obtaining
employment upon release, he has also completed vocational training programs in
trades such as waste-water treatment and plumbing.480
Walker is an avid reader and says he has read hundreds of books while in prison; he
particularly loves Russian classics and history books. He credits his rehabilitation
in part to all of the reading he has done in prison. “Since I was a child, I was taught
that America was the land of redemption. But if you are a first time offender
sentenced under a mandatory minimums sentence, this is not the case,” he said.481
“Prison probably saved my life. I just hope I can get out someday to live that life.”482
FeDerAL SySTeM

Robert J. Riley, now 60, has been
imprisoned for 19 years for sharing a
miniscule amount of LSD with other
Deadheads.
Riley served in the Army after graduating high school in 1971 and later became a
follower of the Grateful Dead.
Over 15 years in the 1970s and 1980s, Riley says he regularly used, shared, and
sometimes sold drugs to fellow Deadheads. On four occasions, he pleaded guilty to
charges involving small amounts of marijuana, hashish, and amphetamines; he was
incarcerated for short periods in county jails in California and Wisconsin for two of
these offenses.483 Each of these convictions arose out of activities outside of Grateful
Dead shows. Riley also maintained jobs at a paper mill in Northern California,
where he worked as a dockworker, truck driver, and warehouse laborer. He married
and had two children.
In 1993, Riley was convicted in a federal court in Iowa of conspiracy to distribute
LSD. Prosecutors alleged that he had mailed or delivered LSD and psychedelic
mushrooms to other Deadheads. According to Riley, one of his co-defendants
cooperated with authorities against him in order to avoid a life sentence.484 The
recipient of two mailings of small amounts of LSD also testified against Riley at
trial, and both co-defendants were sentenced to much shorter terms than Riley.
Riley was held accountable for more than 10 grams of a “mixture or substance”
of LSD, a threshold amount that triggers a mandatory minimum sentence of life
in prison without the possibility of parole on a third offense. In determining the

robert riley
�

Riley was sentenced
to mandatory
LWOP because of
prior convictions
for 1.75 and
5.25 grams of
marijuana, without
which his sentence
would have been 27
to 34 months.
A Living Death: Case Studies 87

amount of drugs for which Riley was responsible for sentencing purposes, the judge
counted the weight of the blotter paper on which the LSD was dissolved, in addition
to the miniscule weight of the actual drug he had mailed. The judge also held him
accountable for amounts of LSD testified to by the cooperating witnesses, even
though there was no physical evidence these drugs existed.

“

The mandatory
life sentence as
applied to you is
not just, it’s an
unfair sentence,
and I find it very
distasteful to have
to impose it. The
laws of Congress
[are] not letting
me impose what I
think would be a
fair sentence.”
—Judge ronald Longstaff

Because the prosecutor filed for statutory sentencing enhancement based on
Riley’s two prior felony convictions for possession of 1.75 grams and 5.25 grams of
marijuana with intent to distribute, Riley was sentenced to mandatory life without
parole under the recidivist provision of the 1986 Anti-Drug Abuse Act, a sentence
Riley calls “murderers’ time.”485 According to Riley, without the statutory sentencing
enhancement for his prior convictions, his sentencing range under the United States
Sentencing Guidelines would have been 27 to 34 months.486
At sentencing, Judge Ronald Longstaff told Riley, “The mandatory life sentence
as applied to you is not just, it’s an unfair sentence, and I find it very distasteful to
have to impose it…. I agree with one thing you said…about the laws of Congress…
keeping me from being a judge right now in your case, because they’re not letting
me impose what I think would be a fair sentence.”487 Judge Longstaff added, “[E]ven
though this is a life sentence, I want it made clear that…it’s one the Judge was very
dissatisfied in imposing. And Mr. Riley is not a threat in terms of violence.”488 Judge
Longstaff later told a law professor that he believed that a 10- to 12-year sentence
would have been appropriate in Riley’s case.489
Judge Longstaff, an appointee of former President George H. W. Bush, wrote
nine years later, in 2002, in support of Riley’s commutation petition, “Given the
circumstances of Mr. Riley’s case, it was difficult for me to impose the required
life sentence. To this day, it remains the harshest punishment I have imposed as a
district court judge. There was no evidence presented in Mr. Riley’s case to indicate
that he was a violent offender or would be in the future. It gives me no satisfaction
that a gentle person such as Mr. Riley will remain in prison the rest of his life.”490
Riley’s commutation petition was not granted.
Riley said at his sentencing hearing, “Today I will see the remainder of my life stand
in forfeit.”491 He added, “I stand before this Court today with no choice but to
promise to allow the Federal Government of the United States to spend freely, and
unendingly, the money of the taxpayers…that they will spend each year to protect
and isolate the American people from me.”492
Riley refers to himself as a “dead man” because of his life-without-parole sentence
and says that “the horror of a life term” is “to not be able to see an end.”493 Since
his incarceration nearly two decades ago, his father has died and his mother has
been afflicted with Alzheimer’s. He spends his time writing poetry and studying the
Upanishads and the writings of Friedrich Nietzsche.

88 American Civil Liberties Union

FeDerAL SySTeM

Kenneth George Harvey Jr. has
served 23 years of a mandatory
LWOP sentence for serving as a drug
courier. He was arrested after a vial
of crack cocaine was found strapped
to his leg following a flight from Los
Angeles to kansas City.
Harvey was 24 years old when he was arrested in December 1989 in the Kansas
City airport shortly after he deplaned from Los Angeles, by DEA agents who had
been monitoring his activity. A vial containing 496 grams of crack cocaine was
found taped to his leg in a consensual search, and an additional six grams of crack
were found in his bag.494 Harvey had been acting as a courier to carry drugs from
Los Angeles to Kansas City; he was paid $300 per trip. He was convicted in 1990
of possession with intent to distribute 50 grams or more of crack cocaine and
sentenced to life in prison under the federal three-strikes provision based on two
prior California state drug convictions for which he had received probation.495 He
had no gun, and his presentence report indicates no record of violence.
The federal government offered to recommend a 15-year sentence if Harvey pleaded
guilty, an offer his federal defender advised him to accept, but Harvey elected to
proceed to trial and the jury found him guilty as charged. After the verdict, the
federal government offered to withdraw one of the priors so that he would not be
exposed to a life sentence, offering to recommend a sentence of 20 years if Harvey
would waive his right to appeal. Harvey refused this offer, too.
Because of Harvey’s two prior drug convictions, the sentencing judge had no
alternative but to impose a life sentence. At Harvey’s sentencing, Chief Judge
Howard Sachs said, “I do not think it was fully understood or intended by Congress
in cases of this nature…but there is no authority that I know of that would permit
a different sentence by me.”496 Because Judge Sachs stated that he considered this
sentence unfair and inappropriate, he took the unusual step of recommending that
Harvey’s sentence be commuted by the president after 15 years, a recommendation
also endorsed by the court of appeals in Harvey’s case.497 At sentencing, Judge
Sachs opined that Harvey’s case was only technically within the three-strikes
provision (neither of his two state priors involved a prison sentence). Under the Fair
Sentencing Act of 2010, the same conduct with which Harvey was charged would
now result in a substantially lower mandatory sentence.498 However, because this
legislation was not made retroactive, Harvey will remain in prison for the rest of his
life unless his sentence is commuted by the president.

kenneth George Harvey Jr.
�

“

I do not think [a
life-without-parole
sentence] was
fully understood
or intended by
Congress in cases
of this nature
but there is no
authority that I
know of that would
permit a different
sentence by me.”
— Chief Judge Howard Sachs

A Living Death: Case Studies 89

The federal
government offered
to recommend a
15-year sentence
if Harvey pleaded
guilty, but Harvey
elected to proceed
to trial. Because of
Harvey’s two prior
drug convictions,
the sentencing
judge had no
alternative but
to impose a life
sentence.

Harvey told the ACLU that when he was sentenced, “I felt as if I had just been given
the death sentence.”499 He is now 47. During his more than two decades in prison,
Harvey says he has matured, maintained a good disciplinary record, earned his
GED, and found consolation in a faith community. He reports he has a stable and
supportive family with whom he has maintained close ties over the years, and he
says that being separated from his father, mother (who died in 2011), brothers,
sister, nieces, and nephews is “unbearable to the point of numbness.”500 While in
prison, Harvey has taken numerous job training, continuing education courses,
and intensive computer training programs to gain concrete work skills. One prison
official observed that he has been an excellent role model for younger inmates by
carrying himself with dignity and always “trying to do the right thing.”501 According
to Harvey, he has had more than two decades to reflect upon the poor judgment
and bad attitude that led to his conviction and says he is sincerely remorseful.
Harvey has consistently worked while in prison. He currently works 40 to 45 hours a
week in food service, for which he is paid 17 cents an hour.502 He has worked in the
prison furniture factory, spraying polyurethane; cable factory, building cables for
battleships and tanks; and has learned how to upholster furniture and sew mailbags
in his upholstery and textile jobs.503 He is well-regarded by prison officials who
work with him on a daily basis and state he has become a reliable and conscientious
employee.
Harvey’s first clemency petition was denied by former President George W. Bush
in 2008, and his second petition, filed in March 2010, was denied by President
Obama in February 2013. Judge Sachs has written in support of his request
for commutation, and according to Harvey’s attorney, the U.S. Attorney who
prosecuted Harvey’s case did not object to clemency in his case.
FeDerAL SySTeM

Clarence Robinson is serving LWOP
for participating as a small player in
a crack cocaine conspiracy when he
was only 21 and 22 years old.504

Clarence robinson with his son and
his son’s mother.

90 American Civil Liberties Union

Later in the course of the conspiracy, Robinson had been brought into the drug
enterprise by a long-time friend who was one of its leaders. At trial, Robinson was
found to have personally assisted in “rocking up” (converting from powder cocaine
into crack) and packaging a single 83-ounce shipment of crack cocaine destined
for delivery in Omaha, for which he was paid $1,000.505 There was no evidence
that Robinson distributed any drugs.506 Three drug dealers higher up in the drug
distribution conspiracy testified against Robinson and received reduced sentences of
nine to 10 years in exchange for their cooperation, although they were charged with
the same offenses.

The prosecutor agreed to the sentencing judge’s request to set aside an enhancement
provision, which would have allowed the judge to impose a 27-year sentence, but
only under the condition that Robinson drop his appeal of the conviction. Because
Robinson refused to give up any right to appeal the conviction, he was subject to
a mandatory life-without-parole sentence. He had two prior convictions for crack
cocaine possession when he was 18 and 19 and a conviction for possession of a
firearm as a felon when he was 22.
Judge Lyle E. Strom, a District of Nebraska judge and Reagan appointee, required
to sentence Robinson to LWOP for conspiracy, said, “I have before me a 23-year-old
man who is facing a mandatory life sentence. And we have people in Nebraska
every month being convicted of first-degree murder and second-degree murder
whose sentences are going to be substantially less than what I have imposed on this
defendant.”507 Judge Strom explained that the average time served by defendants
convicted of murder in Nebraska is 15 years. At his sentencing hearing, Robinson
said, “I really don’t understand how all this occurred. I’m in jail, and they are giving
me more time than the guys who really did all the stuff…I don’t know what to
do.”508 Strom replied, “I’m disturbed by that. I think it’s wrong, Mr. Robinson.”509
On appeal, Circuit Judge Gerald W. Heaney called Robinson’s sentence
“unconscionable.” He wrote,
At sentencing, the district court’s hands were tied. Despite the court’s
statement that it was “disturbed” about its lack of discretion and that
it thought the sentence was unjust, a life sentence without possibility
of parole was mandatory for Robinson… Congress has clearly elected
to eschew individualized sentencing for repeat drug offenders in favor
of a draconian approach that is unmistakably tough on crime…. I
fear, however, that fairness is too often sacrificed in the process….
Unfortunately, Congress has taken away the court’s ability to use its
informed discretion in these matters, placing any discretion instead in
the prosecution.510

“

I have before
me a 23-year-old
man who is facing
a mandatory life
sentence. And we
have people in
Nebraska every
month being
convicted of firstdegree murder
and second-degree
murder whose
sentences are going
to be substantially
less than what I
have imposed on
this defendant.”
—Judge Lyle e. Strom

Now 41, Robinson has been imprisoned for 17 years. He says that his sentence is
his “worst nightmare” and describes prison as “a constant battle to keep morals
and principles and spirituality.”511 While imprisoned, he has taken college courses,
computer training, and Bible study classes. He told the ACLU, “I’ve learned from the
mistakes I made, and I believe I can prevent other people from going down the same
path.”512

A Living Death: Case Studies 91

FeDerAL SySTeM

Sherman Chester with his nephew.
�

“This case is an
illustration of
the difficulties
and problems
that result from
the application
of mandatory
minimum
sentences. This
man doesn’t
deserve a life
sentence, and there
is no way that I can
legally keep from
giving it to him.”
—Judge William J. Castagna

sherman Dionne Chester was
sentenced to mandatory LWOP for
conspiracy to possess and distribute
cocaine and heroin at age 27.513
Although he had two prior drug
convictions, he had never before
served a day in prison.514
Growing up, Chester was a star of his high school football team in St. Petersburg,
Florida. He pursued a college degree at his local community college, but his
grades suffered. He says he transferred to a community college in Minnesota in
1987, where, with the help of an encouraging football coach, he became involved
in the sport again. However, back in Florida, Chester’s mother was diagnosed
with cancer. According to Chester, the burden of the disease was compounded by
financial difficulties that threatened to force his mother, who worked two jobs, into
foreclosure. Less than a year after moving to Minnesota, Chester returned to Florida
to care for his mother.515
Chester told the ACLU, “My family needed financial support…and like
yesterday!”516 He says that he began selling cocaine because he was unsure of how to
provide for his mother and in desperate need of money. In 1989, when he was 23, he
was convicted under Florida law of possession of cocaine after police officers found
a baggie with cocaine residue in it when he was pulled over for a traffic violation.517
In 1991, while on probation for the possession charge, he was caught with a
quarter-gram of cocaine, a user quantity of marijuana, and drug paraphernalia;
he was convicted under Florida law of possession of cocaine, marijuana, and
paraphernalia.518
Around this time, Chester says he began working as a street-level dealer in a drug
conspiracy led by a family friend, whom he describes as an uncle figure. The
conspiracy was under investigation by authorities, and over the course of eight
months Chester sold cocaine and heroin to undercover detectives on multiple
occasions, in amounts ranging from one to 40 grams of cocaine.519 In April 1992,
when Chester was 26, he and nine co-defendants were indicted for their roles in the
conspiracy. He was convicted and held accountable for almost four kilograms of
heroin and 57.4 kilograms of cocaine, nearly the entire amount of drugs involved in
the conspiracy.520
Because of Chester’s two prior convictions, an LWOP sentence was mandatory
under the federal three-strikes law. If he had been sentenced under the federal
sentencing guidelines instead, he would have received 235 to 293 months in

92 American Civil Liberties Union

prison and be home with his family now.521 The sentencing judge, Judge William J.
Castagna, expressed frustration with the mandatory sentence, stating, “The minimum
mandatories are an unfortunate development in the criminal jurisprudence and we’d
be much better off without them.”522 He added, “This case is an illustration of the
difficulties and problems that result from the application of mandatory minimum
sentences. This man doesn’t deserve a life sentence, and there is no way that I
can legally keep from giving it to him.”523 With the exception of the leader of the
conspiracy, Chester’s co-defendants have all been released from prison.524
Five months after Chester was sentenced to LWOP, his mother lost her battle with
cancer and other illnesses. Now 47, Chester has been incarcerated for more than
20 years. He told the ACLU, “I was a very young man with no direction or respect
for the law…I’m over two decades wiser now, and a second chance at freedom and
life would be a very humbling and grateful opportunity.”525 In prison, he counsels
youth, reads, and searches for legal cases that could help him reduce his sentence;
he has also taken classes ranging from yoga to sewing.526 He says he hopes for an
opportunity to show the world how much he has changed, explaining, “I have
so much more in life to offer, and this is not how I want to reward my mother’s
memory about her only son. She’s deceased and I have to carry this burden around
for the rest of my life.”527
Chester told the ACLU that his great-grandmother recently died at the age of 100.
He says his first thought when he learned of her death was, “100 years. How could I
deal with the concept of living that long and still be incarcerated?”528
FeDerAL SySTeM

Ricky Darden was sentenced in 1996
at age 34 to mandatory LWOP for
possession with intent to distribute
217.7 grams of crack cocaine.
In August 1991, when Darden was 29 years old, two Metro Transit police officers
stopped Darden as he arrived in Maryland on a train from New York. The officers
demanded that he let them search his bag, claiming that he looked nervous and was
sweating that summer day.529 Darden refused and attempted to leave the station, but
the officers seized his bag and had it examined by a drug-sniffing dog that indicated
it contained drugs.530 The officers then obtained a warrant to search the bag and
found just over 200 grams of crack.531 Darden was arrested the next day carrying a
bag with two handguns and a triple-beam scale.532

ricky Darden
�

A Maryland state judge threw out the case, ruling that the officers did not have
probable cause to detain Darden’s bag.533 The Maryland Supreme Court upheld the
ruling that the search was unconstitutional. Federal prosecutors then decided to

A Living Death: Case Studies 93

“

At times I get
depressed. It’s hard,
with the thought
one may never get
out of prison. My
family all think that
I had to have took
someone’s life to
have got this much
time.”

prosecute Darden and indicted him two years after the incident that was the basis
for the charges. Darden was arrested in 1995—four years after he committed his
crime—when he was stopped for a traffic violation.
Darden was convicted in federal court of possession of crack cocaine with intent
to distribute; the court dismissed the charges for drug conspiracy and firearm
possession.534 Because of his prior drug felonies, he received a mandatory LWOP
sentence; he had two prior felony drug convictions for criminal sale of a controlled
substance at age 19 and attempted criminal possession of 14 grams of cocaine at
age 23. At sentencing, Judge Peter Messitte told him, “The Court doesn’t have any
leeway in this matter. Your sentence is mandatory life without release and that’s
what I impose.”535
Darden, now 51, has served 17 years in prison. He told the ACLU, “At times I get
depressed…. It’s hard, with the thought one may never get out of prison. My family
all think that I had to have took someone’s life to have got this much time.”536 He
has two children, a son who was 14 and a daughter who was 18 months old when
he was imprisoned. Darden, who had dropped out of school in the tenth grade,
has earned his GED in prison. While imprisoned, he has focused on studying and
gaining vocational skills. He has been certified in construction and floor care, and
he is working on an apprenticeship as a custodian. He adds, “If given a chance to
be, I would show and prove that I’m not someone that deserves to be locked up like
this. I just want a chance to prove that I’m not a threat.”537
FeDerAL SySTeM

Landon Thompson* is serving a
mandatory LWOP sentence for
selling a few grams of crack cocaine
at a time to support his drug
addiction.
A tenth-grade dropout, Thompson began to use illegal drugs in his early teens.
According to the trial court, he lived in an abusive and unstable family environment,
and his youth was marked by suicide attempts and jail and prison stays. He served
as a confidential informant for the FBI’s Violent Crime Task Force, for which he
conducted six undercover drug transactions.538 During his association with drug
users and dealers through his work on behalf of the FBI to prosecute others for drug
offenses, Thompson relapsed and began to use drugs again. He resorted to selling
small amounts of crack cocaine at a time, over a period of weeks, out of a hotel
room in a run-down section of Richmond, Virginia.539
Thompson, who is Black, was arrested in May 2009. At trial, the government’s four
non-law-enforcement witnesses were women who, like Thompson, were users and
* Pseudonym used at prisoner’s request.

94 American Civil Liberties Union

sellers of crack and heroin. His first trial ended in a hung jury; after a second trial,
he was convicted of conspiracy to distribute and possess with intent to distribute
50 grams or more of crack cocaine. Although he had only 3.57 grams of crack on
him at the time of his arrest, he was held responsible for 50 grams or more of crack
based on testimony of others.540 Prior to trial, he had rejected a plea offer for a
20-year sentence.
Because it was Thompson’s third felony drug offense, he was sentenced to
mandatory life without parole. The district court judge, Judge James R. Spencer,
who has served on the federal trial bench for 25 years and was a highly respected
federal prosecutor prior to his appointment to the bench, told Thompson at the
sentencing hearing, “I think a life sentence for what you have done in this case is
ridiculous. It is a travesty. I don’t have any discretion about it. The government,
obviously you irritated them in some way and they reached back to these 1996
possession and possession with intent [convictions] to do this, which under the law
they have the right to do. I don’t agree with it, either. And I want the world and the
record to be clear on that. This is just silly. But as I say, I don’t have any choice.”541
Two weeks after imposing the mandatory LWOP sentence, the district court
identified a flaw in information provided by the government and reduced
Thompson’s sentence to 25 years, but the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals reinstated
the mandatory life sentence.542 In a concurring opinion, Judge Andre M. Davis of
the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals wrote that he was dismayed by the mandatory
LWOP sentence the court was required to give Thompson:
[M]any would say that [the defendant] seems to be one more of
the drug war’s “expendables”…. This case presents familiar facts
seen in courts across the country: a defendant addicted to narcotics
selling narcotics in order to support his habit. Unfortunately for [the
defendant] and countless other poorly-educated, drug-dependent
offenders, current drug prosecution and sentencing policy mandates
that he spend the rest of his life in prison....

“

I think a life
sentence for what
you have done
in this case is
ridiculous. It is a
travesty. I don’t
have any discretion
about it. I don’t
have any choice.”
—Judge James r. Spencer

Here, as in many other cases, the district court expressly noted its
discontent with the statutory mandatory minimum sentence. This
disapproval among distinguished jurists is not unusual. [ ] I share the
district judge’s dismay over the legally mandated sentence he must
impose in this case. While the controlling legal principles require
us to order the reimposition of a sentence of life without parole in
this case, the time has long passed when policymakers should come
to acknowledge the nation’s failed drug policy and to act on that
acknowledgement. As a nation, we are smart enough to do better.543
Thompson, now 42, has served four years of his life-without-parole sentence. His
wife told the ACLU, “They destroyed our lives, basically—not just his, but mine as
well, and our children’s as well. It’s a shame that it had to even go that far. That type
of sentence for personal use is uncalled for.”544

A Living Death: Case Studies 95

LOUiSiANA

sylvester Mead was sentenced to
mandatory life without parole for
a drunken threat to a police officer
while handcuffed and sitting in the
back of a patrol car on the way to a
police station.

“

The instant
offense, public
intimidation, does
not warrant, under
any conscionable
or constitutional
basis, a life sen
tence. I just simply
don’t think that
this particular case
warrants a life
sentence. I have no
choice.”
—Judge Leon L. emanuel iii

Mead worked as a factory machine operator and installed sprinkler systems in
Shreveport, Louisiana. He says he worked hard to support his family, including his
wife, children, and mother. In October 2000, he drank too much at a party with his
wife, burned the catfish he began cooking after returning home, and became angry
and belligerent. His 15-year-old stepdaughter called the police. Police responded to
the call at about 2:00 a.m., arrested and handcuffed Mead, and escorted him out of
his house and into a patrol car. According to the trial court, during the ride to the
police station, Mead, who was still drunk and handcuffed, told the Shreveport police
officer, “I should have shot you this time,” and something to the effect of, “If you
come back again, you better bring your arsenal.”545 He also reportedly said, “I’ll do
everything I can to get your damn badge,” and “in about two hours, you make the
trip back to my house.”546
After a jury trial in September 2001, Mead was convicted of public intimidation,
for his drunken threat to the police officer. Though the jury found him guilty of
public intimidation, the trial court ruled that the evidence, viewed in the light most
favorable to the prosecution, did not support a guilty verdict and accordingly set
aside the jury’s verdict.547 The prosecutor appealed the post-verdict acquittal, the
appellate court reinstated the conviction, and Mead was sentenced to 10 years in
prison as a second-time felony offender.548 The prosecutor again appealed, and
the appellate court then found Mead should be sentenced as a third-time felony
offender.549
Mead was subsequently resentenced to a mandatory sentence of life without parole
under Louisiana’s habitual offender law because of his previous convictions for
aggravated battery, to which he pleaded guilty in 1995, and simple burglary in
1985.550 Under Louisiana law, public intimidation is usually punished by a fine of
no more than $1,000 or imprisonment of no more than five years.551 Mead filed a
number of motions without the assistance of a lawyer and represented himself for
some of the appellate and remand hearings.552 He says that he told the trial judge he
did not understand the proceedings and should not have been allowed to represent
himself.553
When resentencing Mead, the trial court acknowledged that he suffered from

96 American Civil Liberties Union

substance and alcohol abuse problems that may have contributed to his crime, and
found that the conviction “did not involve physical violence, but rather the use
of words, which were perceived by the police officer as threatening.”554 The judge,
Judge Leon L. Emanuel III, again stated that the trial evidence did not support
the conviction for public intimidation and told Mead that he disagreed with the
mandatory life-without-parole sentence, but he had no choice. Judge Emanuel said:
Now, having considered the evidence that’s been presented, the whole
record, this court is still convinced and still believes that the nature of
the instant offense, public intimidation, does not warrant, under any
conscionable or constitutional basis, a life sentence…. I just simply
don’t think that this particular case warrants a life sentence…. I still
don’t think he was a threat to the police officer, and I don’t know what
could ever convince me that you were a threat….
I’m convinced that I have no choice and the law does dictate. So having
said that, rather than spend any more of my time, the Court’s time, or
any other resources and try to come up with a reason for you not to get
a life sentence, I’ve given up. I’ve done all that I can do. Because I think
this would be the fifth time I would try to do something and I think it
would be the fifth time I would be reversed.555

“

The hopelessness
will eat you alive if
you can’t handle it.”

At the resentencing hearing, a prison ministry counselor at the prison where Mead
was incarcerated at the time testified that Mead was a good candidate for the
organization’s rehabilitation program, which assisted prisoners in their efforts to
re-enter society.556
Mead told the ACLU that when he was sentenced, “It made me feel lost, and
helpless. Because I mitigated my life, by getting married, buying my home, and
raising my children. [And] [h]elping my mother.”557 He added, “The hopelessness
will eat you alive if you can’t handle it.”558
Mead, who is Black, is 51 and in his thirteenth year in prison. He reports he has
never been written up for a disciplinary infraction. While in prison, he has earned
his GED and completed substance abuse, anger management, and religious
programs.559 He spends his time reading books and researching law in the law
library. He says that he is a changed man and explains, “I respect life more today.
Each day is a blessing. I am a better person today.... I have greatly improved my
demeanor and actions.”560 If he were released from prison, he says he would return
to work and be with his children and his mother for “whatever time she has left to
live.”561

A Living Death: Case Studies 97

LIfE WITHOUT PAROLE
fOR NONVIOLENT
OffENsEs UNDER HABITUAL
OffENDER LAWs
Under current law, 19 states and the federal government
permit life-without-parole sentences for nonviolent offenses
under habitual offender laws. Of the states that sentence
nonviolent offenders to LWOP, Louisiana, Florida, Alabama,
Mississippi, South Carolina, and Oklahoma have the highest
numbers of prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes,
largely because of these states’ harsh habitual offender laws
that mandate LWOP sentences for repeat offenders.
In the cases of prisoners serving LWOP for second, third,
and fourth strikes, the defendants had already served time
for their prior convictions and paid their debts to society.
In all of the habitual offender cases documented by the
ACLU, the LWOP-triggering offenses were nonviolent, but in
some cases the offender had previously committed a violent
crime. In some cases, federal and state courts used juvenile
convictions as necessary third or fourth strikes to sentence
defendants to LWOP.
For the purposes of sentencing habitual offenders, some state
courts define triggering and predicate “serious” or “violent”
offenses so broadly as to include crimes that are commonly
understood to be nonviolent; this issue is explained in more
detail in Section III(B). In addition, in interpreting habitual
offender laws that impose enhanced penalties on offenders
with prior convictions for “violent” crimes, some courts look to
whether prior offenses fall into this category without evaluating
the facts underlying the prior convictions. As a result, in some
cases courts sentence defendants to LWOP because of a prior
conviction that falls into the statutorily or judicially defined
“violent” category, while simultaneously noting that the prior
offense did not in fact involve any violence.
Louisiana’s habitual offender law requires mandatory
life without parole for third and fourth felony strikes in
a number of circumstances. The strikes that can trigger
these mandatory LWOP sentences are defined very broadly.
For instance, any controlled substances offense carrying
a maximum sentence of 10 years or more will count as a
strike.562 Given Louisiana’s very high sentences for drug

98 American Civil Liberties Union

TABLE 15

Jurisdictions that allow LWOP for nonviolent offenses
under habitual offender laws

federal Government

Alabama

Arkansas

Delaware

florida

Georgia

Illinois

Indiana

Iowa

Kentucky

Louisiana

Michigan

Mississippi

Missouri

Nevada

Oklahoma

south Carolina

south Dakota

Virginia

Wisconsin

offenses, strikes include the simple possession of any amount
of ecstasy or heroin, growing a single marijuana plant, or
possession with intent to distribute any amount of almost any
drug. Three of any of these drug strikes trigger a mandatory
LWOP sentence. In addition, the simple possession of any
amount of marijuana on a third or subsequent conviction
counts as a strike, meaning that five convictions for the
simple possession of small amounts of marijuana can trigger
a mandatory LWOP sentence.
Other strikes include “crimes of violence” as well as any other
felony that carries a maximum sentence of 12 years. Potential
strikes include purse-snatching, which is an unarmed
offense that may involve removing a wallet from a purse or
stealing cash from a wallet; simple (unarmed) burglary of
a non-residential building; looting; credit card fraud by a
person authorized to provide goods and services; and even
perjury under certain circumstances. Under Louisiana’s law,
a person convicted any of these crimes—drug, violent, or
property—must receive an LWOP sentence if he or she has
two prior strikes.
Under Louisiana’s four-strikes habitual offender law, a person
facing a fourth or subsequent conviction for any felony may
receive a discretionary life sentence.563 Four convictions for
simple possession of almost any drug, including cocaine,
oxycodone, or steroids, can trigger a life sentence. If any one
of those four convictions was for purse-snatching or simple
robbery (robbery without a weapon or injury), both of
which are considered crimes of violence in Louisiana, the life
sentence will be ineligible for parole.
Florida has a number of overlapping habitual offender
laws that require extremely long sentences based on prior
convictions. Several can trigger mandatory LWOP sentences.
Anyone convicted twice before of certain crimes, including
simple (unarmed) robbery or even attempted simple
(unarmed) robbery, can be sentenced on a third strike as a
“three-time violent felony offender.” If the present conviction
is for a felony punishable by life, such as a burglary of a
commercial or industrial building that causes more than
$1,000 of property damage, the person must receive a
mandatory LWOP sentence.564
Under Florida law, a person facing a fourth or subsequent
conviction for burglary, even commercial or industrial

burglary, is a “violent career criminal” and will presumptively
receive an LWOP sentence unless the judge makes a finding
that such a sentence would be unnecessary for the protection
of the public.565
Florida’s Prison Releasee Reoffender Law requires the
mandatory imposition of the maximum possible sentence
upon conviction of a “serious crime” if it occurs within
three years of someone’s release from prison, regardless
of the severity of the previous offense or the nature of the
person’s criminal record. Crimes such as armed burglary of
an unoccupied commercial or industrial building or burglary
of an unoccupied commercial or industrial building causing
more than $1,000 of property damage normally allow for the
possibility of a sentence up to LWOP. However, the simple
fact that someone has been convicted of one of these crimes
within three years of getting out of prison requires the
mandatory imposition of an LWOP sentence regardless of
whether such a sentence is appropriate. The Prison Releasee
Reoffender Law has resulted in numerous LWOP sentences
for nonviolent offenses, such as armed burglary, in Florida.
Under Alabama law, a person can face a mandatory LWOP
sentence for trafficking drugs, a crime triggered simply by
the quantity of drugs involved, not the nature of the person’s
conduct or relationship to the drugs. For instance, the simple,
or even constructive, possession of 56 grams of LSD or heroin
triggers a mandatory LWOP sentence for drug trafficking.
Alabama’s Habitual Felony Offender Act, which applies
to all felonies, requires that people convicted of a Class A
felony be sentenced to LWOP if they have three prior felony
convictions, one of which is for a Class A felony; LWOP is
discretionary if the prior felonies are more minor Class B
and C.566 Class A felonies include the simple possession of
more than 28 grams of cocaine, more than one kilogram of
marijuana, and more than four grams of either heroin or
LSD.567 In addition, under Alabama law, a person convicted
a second time of engaging in a drug-trafficking enterprise
in a management role must receive a mandatory LWOP
sentence.568 The law does not truly consider the severity of
prior offenses or the amount of time that has elapsed since
priors.
Under Mississippi’s habitual offender law, a person convicted
of any felony (including drug and property offenses) who
has two or more prior felony convictions, only one of which

A Living Death: Case Studies 99

was a “crime of violence” and both of which actually resulted
in prison sentences of one year of more, must receive a
mandatory LWOP sentence.569 Although Mississippi does
not have a statutory definition of what constitutes a crime
of violence, state courts have broadly interpreted what
constitutes a violent felony. Mississippi state courts have
held that offenses such as unarmed carjacking,570 unarmed
burglary of an unoccupied dwelling,571 and simple robbery572
are crimes of violence.

There are two federal habitual offender statutes that mandate
life in prison. Under the federal third-offender sentencing
enhancement law, known as the 851 enhancement, if a
federal drug conviction involves a particular quantity of
drugs (such as 50 grams of methamphetamine, 280 grams of
crack cocaine, or five kilograms of powder cocaine) and the
defendant has two prior felony convictions in state or federal
courts, he or she must be sentenced to mandatory LWOP.582

Under South Carolina’s three-strikes law, a person facing
a third conviction for a “serious offense” must receive a
mandatory LWOP sentence.573 Qualifying “serious offenses”
include trafficking in controlled substances, distribution or
possession with intent to distribute controlled substances
near a school, burglary of a commercial or industrial
building at night, theft from a person using an ATM,
embezzlement of public funds, and obtaining a signature or
property by false pretenses. “Serious offenses” also include
any other offense punishable by 30 years or more, such as
safecracking,574 entering a bank with intent to steal,575 and a
number of drug offenses such as manufacture or delivery of
more than 400 grams of cocaine576 or more than 400 grams
of methamphetamine, for example.577 Under the two- and
three-strikes laws, a person convicted of a “most serious
offense” must be sentenced to mandatory LWOP sentence
if that person has either one conviction for a “most serious
offense,”578 or two convictions for a “serious offense.”579
“Most serious offenses” such as unarmed as well as armed
first-degree burglary can trigger a mandatory LWOP sentence
in just two convictions.

Under the federal three-strikes law, a defendant convicted of
a “serious violent felony” must be sentenced to mandatory
LWOP if he or she has two or more prior serious violent
felony convictions or a combination of at least one prior
serious violent felony conviction and at least one prior
“serious drug offense” conviction.583 “Serious drug offenses”
include engaging in a continuing criminal drug enterprise
and manufacturing or distributing, for example, at least one
kilogram of heroin or 50 grams of meth.584 Under the statute,
a “serious violent felony” includes gun possession offenses,
as well as any other offense punishable by at least 10 years
in prison “that has as an element the use, attempted use, or
threatened use of physical force against the person of another
that, by its nature, involves a substantial risk that physical
force against the person of another may be used in the course
of committing the offense.”585 Because of this broad definition
of “serious violent felony,” and because the definition of a
“serious drug offense” includes most federal and state drug
crimes, the statute is very broad and can encompass crimes
that would ordinarily be considered nonviolent but are
defined as violent under the law.586

Under Oklahoma’s Trafficking in Illegal Drugs Act, a harsh
habitual drug offender law, a third conviction for “trafficking”
drugs, after convictions for any two drug felonies (including
possession), must be punished with a mandatory LWOP
sentence.580 The law defines trafficking very broadly to include
possessing, distributing, transporting, or manufacturing
at least 25 pounds of marijuana, 28 grams of cocaine, 10
grams of heroin, 20 grams of methamphetamine, one gram
of LSD, five grams of crack cocaine, 20 grams of PCP, or
10 grams of ecstasy.581 Oklahoma prosecutors often charge
defendants with trafficking based solely on the amount
of drugs discovered, regardless of whether the individual
was transporting, selling, or distributing the narcotics, and
prosecutors have to prove only that an individual knowingly
possessed a controlled dangerous substance.

In addition, the federal Armed Career Criminal Act (ACCA)
allows for a discretionary LWOP sentence for any offense
involving unlawful firearms possession or transportation if
the defendant has three or more prior convictions for “serious
drug offenses,” defined as drug offenses punishable by 10
years or more, or “crimes of violence.”587 Qualifying “crimes
of violence” include burglary, robbery, or other crimes that
have as an element the use, attempted, or threatened use
of physical force against the person or property of another.
Lastly, habitual offender enhancements also appear in the
federal sentencing guidelines, under which courts use prior
convictions to calculate a defendant’s criminal history
category, with higher categories resulting in higher sentencing
ranges that can yield an LWOP sentence.588

100 American Civil Liberties Union

OkLAHOMA

Kevin Ott was sentenced to LWOP for

3.5 ounces of meth, an amount that
could fit in a small envelope.
Ott worked as a carpenter building portable buildings in Oklahoma City. According
to Ott, he started using methamphetamine after he lost his job, quickly became
addicted, and had to sell the drug to pay for his addiction. He says that he spent
the period before his incarceration in a “drug-induced alcoholic haze,” preoccupied
with whether he had “enough money for more dope.”589
In September 1996, when Ott was 33 years old and on parole for marijuana charges,
probation and parole officers performed a warrantless search of the trailer in
which he was living in Cleveland County, Oklahoma, and found 3.5 ounces of
methamphetamine, scales, empty baggies, and a handgun.590 Ott was convicted of
trafficking in illegal drugs, maintaining a dwelling house to keep or sell a controlled
drug, possession of a firearm in the commission of a felony, failure to display a tax
stamp, and possession of drug paraphernalia.591 He was sentenced to a statutory
mandatory sentence of LWOP under Oklahoma’s habitual drug offender law for
trafficking in controlled dangerous substances after two or more prior drug-related
convictions.592
Ott had prior convictions arising from two arrests; one conviction was for possession
of methamphetamine with intent to distribute stemming from an arrest while exiting
a bar with meth in his pocket, and the second was for possession and manufacture of
marijuana and possession of a firearm by a convicted felon. Ott reports that each time
he was incarcerated after these arrests he repeatedly requested treatment for his drug
addiction but was denied. He says, “I honestly think if I would have been given the
chance [for drug treatment], I wouldn’t be here waiting to die today.”593
Ott believes he is the second person to have been sentenced to mandatory LWOP
for a nonviolent drug crime under Oklahoma’s habitual offender law; today, there
are 49 people serving such sentences in Oklahoma. His 69-year-old mother, Betty
Chism, told the ACLU, “I didn’t know that there was such a thing as life without
parole for Kevin’s crime. I had no earthly idea that that could happen…I was
absolutely dumbfounded. It was not in the realm of my imagination that that could
happen…I felt for sure that this could not be real.”594

kevin Ott in a still from eugene
Jarecki’s documentary film “The
House i Live in.” Photo credit:
Samuel Cullman /
www.thehouseilivein.org

“

I honestly
think if I would
have been given
the chance [for
drug treatment] I
wouldn’t be here
waiting to die
today.”

Chism, sobbing while discussing her son, says of her son’s sentence, “It’s the hardest
thing I’ve ever had to live through.... I’m concerned every day of my life about his
safety… Even today after all these years, when I have to leave him and I have to walk
away and know where he is now and know it will be a month before I will see him
again, the pain is so incredible. It’s very hard to bear.”595 She added, “Death in prison
is going to be his fate…. If only I could have hope that Kevin would be home this

A Living Death: Case Studies 101

time next year, oh, my life would be so glorious, and my daily prayer would be keep
him safe, Lord, keep him safe until he can come home.”596
Ott, who is 50 years old, has served 17 years in prison and says he is “get[ting] ready
to die in a cage.”597 His youngest sister was killed in a car accident while driving to
visit him in prison, located about three hours from his family.
Ott describes himself as a completely changed man since his incarceration 17 years
ago. “My faith in God is stronger. I am more patient, maybe a little sadder,” he
says.598 He says he has been clean and sober for 15 years, though he was ineligible
for any drug treatment program because of the length of his sentence. He told
the ACLU, “When I first came in I would have loved to take a substance abuse
program, but there was none available to me because I have life without parole…I
have rehabilitated myself; the state has done nothing.”599 Ott is ineligible for many
prison rehabilitation programs because of the length of his sentence, but he has
participated in Christian-based programs including Christians Against Substance
Abuse, has taken classes on Thinking for a Change and life skills, volunteered with a
program for at-risk youth, and learned to be a leather-crafter.
SOUTH CArOLiNA

Onrae Williams was sentenced to
LWOP for selling less than a third of
a gram of crack cocaine, an offense
he was accused of committing when
he was only 22 years old.600
Onrae Williams with his daughter,
Onajah, who was three years old
when her father was sentenced to
life without parole.

102 American Civil Liberties Union

His two prior convictions that triggered South Carolina’s habitual offender
sentencing law included an offense that he committed as a juvenile.601 According to
Williams, the combined value of the drugs involved in his three strikes is $60.602
Williams was raised in a downtown Charleston public housing project, and at
times his family was without electricity or food to eat. His mother and other family
members struggled with drug addiction, and he says that without a functional adult
figure in his life or steady job opportunities, he began selling marijuana at age 12
or 13 to support himself and his sister. He first got in trouble with the law when he
was 13 years old, after which he was barred from entering the housing project where
he was raised. As a teenager, Williams was arrested repeatedly for trespassing at the
Gadsden Green housing project where he lived with his grandmother. Because he
was no longer permitted on the project grounds on account of his juvenile record,
his grandmother was eventually forced to move out of the apartment they shared.
He dropped out of school in the ninth grade and was shot in the head when he was
18 years old.

In 2000, when he was only 17 years old, Williams was arrested by police in a park
adjacent to the housing project where he lived. He pleaded guilty to possession of
crack cocaine, possession with intent to distribute cocaine, and a separate charge
for doing so within 1,000 feet of a school, for which he received adult probation.
According to Williams, he had probation fees to pay and his conviction made it hard
to find a job, so he returned to the streets. When he was 20, he was arrested again in
the same park and charged with distribution of marijuana, distribution of cocaine,
distribution within proximity of a school, and possession of cocaine. Although he
says police did not find drugs on him and had no physical evidence to use against
him, he pleaded guilty to the charges because he was told it was the quickest way
out of prison and he wanted to return to his newborn daughter as soon as possible.
For the second conviction, Williams was sentenced under South Carolina’s Youthful
Offender Act and served a year before he was paroled. While incarcerated, he asked
for drug treatment but was not accepted. Williams reports that after the birth of his
daughter, Onajah, and his release from prison, he began to turn his life around.
In 2004, Charleston police set up a controlled drug buy by sending a confidential
informant into the same park where Williams had been previously arrested.603 The
informant purchased two pebbles of crack weighing only 0.3 grams.604 Although
the drug buy took place in August 2004, when Williams was 22, Williams was not
charged and arrested for selling to the confidential informant until January 2005,
almost half a year later. He had been reporting regularly to his parole officer during
the intervening months, but police never approached him about the drug buy.
Williams was offered a plea deal but maintained his innocence and chose to go
to trial. The informant, who had spent half his life in prison or jail, later testified
that he had purchased the crack pebbles from Williams. Williams was convicted of
distribution of crack cocaine and distribution of crack cocaine within a half-mile of
a school.605
Williams was sentenced to mandatory life imprisonment without the possibility
of parole on both charges. The court used one of Williams’s juvenile offenses as
a necessary third strike to sentence him to life without parole. He was sentenced
under South Carolina’s habitual offender law, which requires a life-without-parole
sentence for a third conviction for a “serious offense.”606 Distributing controlled
substances within a half-mile of a school is considered a “serious offense” under
the law.607 All of Williams’s alleged offenses took place in Harmon Park, a public
park located about 100 yards away from the housing project where Williams lived
and within a half-mile of a high school. Williams points out that mandatory LWOP
school-zone laws discriminate against people living in densely populated urban
communities such as downtown Charleston, where drug sales are unavoidably
within South Carolina’s expansive drug-free school zones.

“

They locked me
up for half a gram,
something that
amounted to $20
worth [of drugs].
That doesn’t make
any sense, that they
sentenced me for
the rest of my life.”

Williams told the ACLU that he regrets what he has done and has learned from his
mistakes but believes his sentence is too severe: “I know I don’t deserve to be in a
situation like this. Being given a life sentence without parole, it’s just not right. They
locked me up for half a gram, something that amounted to $20 worth [of drugs].
That doesn’t make any sense, that they sentenced me for the rest of my life. I don’t

A Living Death: Case Studies 103

want them to do this to anybody else after me.”608 His aunt, Dee Williams, said that
when Williams called her a few hours after being sentenced, his primary worry was
his then-three-year-old daughter. “He kept saying, ‘What am I going to tell her?’”609
She said of her nephew’s sentence, “He has over half his life left. It’s crazy.”610
Williams’s uncle, Sidney Williams, told a local paper at the time of his nephew’s
sentencing, “It just seems unfair and cruel…. I by no means of the imagination
condone what he has done. But I still don’t think that adds up to life in prison.”611
Williams has served seven years in prison and is now 30 years old. Since he has
been incarcerated, his mother died, and he was unable to attend the funeral. He has
earned his GED in prison, is writing a book, and spends his time studying the law,
reading, and playing chess. He told the ACLU that if he were allowed out of prison,
his priority would be to go to college, adding, “Since I’ve been locked up…I’ll do
whatever I can do to increase my development and my knowledge,” but adds that “I
just pushed my education as far as I could push it” in prison.612 He speaks regularly
with his daughter and says, “What matters the most to me is to…be a father to
my daughter and build a relationship with her. That’s what helped change me
and helped me understand that I don’t need drugs in my life. I’ve grown up and
matured from an adolescent into a man.”613
SOUTH CArOLiNA

Anthony Jerome Jackson is serving
LWOP for stealing a wallet from a
hotel room.

Anthony Jerome Jackson. Photo
credit: South Carolina Department of
Corrections

“

You will think
that I kill[ed]
someone with that
kind of time.”

104 American Civil Liberties Union

From Conway, South Carolina, Jackson has a sixth-grade education and worked as
a cook. He was convicted of burglary for stealing a wallet from a Myrtle Beach hotel
room in November 2011, when he was 44 years old. According to prosecutors, he woke
two vacationing golfers as he entered the room and stole a wallet, then pretended to
be a security guard and ran away. Police arrested him when he tried to use the stolen
credit card at a pancake house.614 Jackson says that he did not commit the burglary
but did attempt to use the stolen credit card.615 According to Jackson, because his
court-appointed attorney failed to properly prepare for trial and did not even know
the charges against him, Jackson chose to represent himself but did not understand
anything during his trial.616 Because of prior convictions for burglary in 2006 and
2009, Jackson was sentenced to mandatory life without parole under South Carolina’s
three-strikes law. He also had prior convictions for burglary and distribution of
cocaine dating back to 1986, but these offenses did not impact his sentence.617 “I felt
hurt and afraid [of ] the ending of life,” Jackson says of his sentencing.618 “You will
think that I kill[ed] someone with that kind of time.”619 Jackson, who is now 46 years
old and speaks weekly with his mother, a pastor, says his drug addiction motivated
the crime for which he was sentenced to die in prison. When he requested substance
abuse treatment while serving time for a prior burglary conviction, he reports he was
denied treatment. Jackson says, “I begged them for help. They said no.”620

MiSSiSSiPPi

Hershel Miles Jr. was sentenced as a
habitual offender to LWOP for forgery
and petit larceny for attempting to
cash a stolen check.621
A mother and son in Panola County, Mississippi, returned home in September
2001 to find that their front door was damaged and a VCR, Sony PlayStation,
Nintendo 64 console, and Nintendo games were missing.622 The value of all of the
stolen items was under $250.623 Several days later, Miles attempted to cash a check
bearing the signature of the deceased husband of the woman whose house had been
burglarized. Miles maintains that he received the check for payment for a motor
that he sold to a man named Al on the same date as the burglary. None of the stolen
items were found to be in Miles’s possession, and he was not charged with the
burglary.624 In 2002, Miles was sentenced to life without parole under Mississippi’s
habitual offender law. According to prosecutors, Miles had prior convictions for
sale of cocaine, burglary of a non-habitation, robbery, burglary, and aggravated
burglary, and he had served time in prison for each of these prior offenses.625 Miles,
who is Black and 42 years old, has served nearly 11 years of his life-without-parole
sentence.

Hershel Miles Jr.
�

MiSSiSSiPPi

Phillip Earl Young was sentenced
to LWOP for siphoning gasoline out
of a truck.
Young siphoned gasoline from an 18-wheeler truck parked in Pearl, Mississippi.626
When the owner of the truck confronted Young, he fled in his own 18-wheeler.
According to the district court, law enforcement officers followed Young for about
40 minutes around Jackson, Mississippi, until they arrested him.627 In May 2010,
he was convicted of felony evasion and automobile burglary and sentenced to life
without parole under Mississippi’s habitual offender law.628 Young had previously
been convicted of unarmed carjacking and grand larceny. The district court found
that his prior conviction for unarmed carjacking, in which no one was injured,
constituted a “violent crime” for the purposes of enhanced sentencing under
Mississippi’s habitual offender law.629 Young, who is Black, is 46 years old.

Phillip earl young
�

A Living Death: Case Studies 105

FLOriDA

Robert Lee Mathis, a 66-year-old
vietnam War veteran diagnosed
with paranoid schizophrenia, was
sentenced to LWOP at the age of 44
for sale of 8.2 grams of crack within
1,000 feet of a school.
robert Lee Mathis
�

Mathis says that
when he was
sentenced to die in
prison, it “felt like
I had died again in
the Vietnam War.”

Mathis was drafted into the Army and served in the Vietnam War from 1966 to
1968, after which he was honorably discharged. He says he has suffered from
post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of his combat service and that he sought
treatment for his mental illnesses, but this treatment was ineffective.630 Prior to his
incarceration, he worked picking fruit and selling produce and was training to be a
truck driver.631
In February 1989, Mathis was arrested for selling 8.2 grams of crack cocaine
valued at $20 near a school zone. He was also charged with possession of drug
paraphernalia for a piece of copper screen found in his pocket containing crack
residue. Mathis believes he was framed for this crime by the sheriff, whom he says
has had his eye on him ever since the two were involved in a car accident years
before.632 He went to trial, during which his mental illness and competence to stand
trial were central issues. His court-appointed lawyer told the court he believed
Mathis was not competent to proceed and “may have been insane at the time of the
offense.”633 However, Mathis would not allow his lawyer to raise his mental illness
at trial and continually sought permission to represent himself.634 The trial judge
denied these requests on account of Mathis’s mental illness.
Mathis was found incompetent to stand trial in July 1989 and was involuntarily
committed to the Department of Health and Rehabilitative Services in
Tallahassee.635 In March 1990, the court ruled him competent to proceed to trial.636
Mathis was convicted of distribution of crack cocaine within proximity of a school
and sentenced to life without parole as a habitual offender in April 1990. He had
prior nonviolent drug convictions: in October 1985, Mathis was sentenced to five
years in prison for two counts of constructive possession of drugs and possession
of a hallucinogen other than marijuana, and in 1986, he was convicted of sale or
purchase of heroin and sale or purchase of $5 bags of marijuana.
Mathis says that when he was sentenced to die in prison, it “felt like I had died again
in the Vietnam War.”637 His petition for rehearing, which he filed and prepared
himself without the assistance of an attorney, was denied as incoherent.638 His
pro-se appeals were similarly unsuccessful.

106 American Civil Liberties Union

Mathis has been incarcerated for 23 years, during which he says he has received only
one visitor.639 Now 67 years old, he suffers from glaucoma, headaches, and extremely
high blood pressure, and requires regular dialysis.640 He describes the feeling of
being separated from his family and friends as “going off to war!”641
Mathis reports he was held in solitary confinement for one year after he was charged
with attempted assault of a prison guard.642 According to Mathis, inmate witnesses
to the incident observed the guard assaulting him over an apple that pre-dialysis
inmates such as himself were allowed to take into their dorms for a snack.643
In a separate incident, Mathis was assaulted by another prisoner, who caused
injuries requiring emergency eye surgery.644 Mathis describes his incarceration as
“hell.”645 Despite this, he says he has tried to better himself in prison and has taken
educational courses, including GED classes and vocational training in masonry.646
OkLAHOMA

Daniel Gene Mosley is serving
LWOP for buying four ounces of
methamphetamine.
In August 2008, Mosley had just purchased four ounces of meth from a dealer and
was backing out of the dealer’s driveway when Norman, Oklahoma, drug task force
officers arrived to serve a search warrant. Officers searched his pockets and found
the drugs. He was 52 at the time. A mistrial was declared following his first trial,
and the trial judge dismissed the case.647 Following the district attorney’s appeal,
the dismissal was reversed and Mosley was retried and convicted of trafficking in
methamphetamine.648
For years, Mosley had suffered from drug addiction and alcohol abuse, leading
to a series of convictions for drug possession and driving under the influence of
alcohol. He says he did not steal or deal drugs to support his habit, and he was
never accused of such offenses. He was convicted three times of DUI in 1992 and
1993, possession of marijuana in 1993 and 1995, and possession of marijuana
and methamphetamine in 2000. In 2005, police searched his home and found 39
grams of marijuana and baggies with methamphetamine residue totaling less than
five grams. Several months later, police stopped him while he was walking on the
street and asked him if he had drugs in his possession; he handed over a small bag
of marijuana, a small bag of meth, and two syringes. As a result of the two arrests,
in 2006 Mosley was convicted of two counts of marijuana possession, one count
of meth possession, and one count of maintaining a place for keeping controlled
drugs, for which he received a suspended sentence.

Daniel Gene Mosley
�

“

In my case the
legal war on drugs
has done more
damage than the
drugs themselves.
I’ll take this to the
grave.”

As soon as he was released on bond for the August 2008 arrest, Mosley, realizing
that he was sick and needed help, signed up for drug treatment. After a two-month
waiting period, he entered and completed an intensive 10-month inpatient drug

A Living Death: Case Studies 107

treatment program. He had gotten clean for the first time in his life, enrolled in
graduate school, and was working toward a master’s degree in drug and alcohol
counseling.

“

I needed longterm extensive
[drug] treatment
and therapy but
did not get it in
prison. Prison
didn’t help me,
but recovery did,
and now you
want to put me in
prison for the rest
of my life?”

“I needed long-term extensive treatment and therapy but did not get it in prison.
Prison did not work. I got to this very effective treatment program. I actually get
into recovery!” he recalls.649 Mosley says he grew up in a family of alcoholics and
drug addicts and left home at age 17 to escape physical abuse, all of which he
believes contributed to his later drug addiction, and which he finally addressed in
drug treatment. He had a bachelor’s degree in medical technology, but because his
criminal record made it impossible for him to get work in his field, he worked at
McDonald’s while he was studying to become a drug and alcohol counselor.
In April 2010, he was imprisoned when his suspended sentence for the 2006 charges
was revoked on account of the August 2008 arrest. Two years later, he was about to
be released to a halfway house and resume his studies when he was sentenced to
mandatory LWOP for the August 2008 charge. Mosley had been recommended for
one-year community sentencing. In a pre-sentence investigation report, a parole
officer noted that Mosley had completed inpatient drug treatment and maintained
a drug-free lifestyle, concluding, “[H]e does not appear to pose an immediate threat
to the community…it seems it would be most beneficial to work with him in a
community setting.”650 Although the judge stated she wanted to show mercy, she was
not permitted to do so under Oklahoma’s habitual drug offender statute because of
his prior nonviolent drug convictions.
“Prison didn’t help me, but recovery did, and now you want to put me in prison
for the rest of my life? I had a drug addiction; I needed recovery,” Mosley told the
ACLU. “In my case, the legal war on drugs has done more damage than the drugs
themselves. I’ll take this to the grave.”651
Now 57, Mosley has been incarcerated for three and a half years, during which he
has participated in drug recovery and faith-based programs. He reports he has
stayed clean and sober despite the hopelessness of his sentence, which he says “is like
being buried alive.”652 If released from prison, he wants to resume the career path he
was on when he was incarcerated and help other people with drug addiction.
“I went to school to work toward a degree in counseling to be a part of the solution
rather than the problem,” he told the ACLU.653 “I got into recovery, and I took it as
a vision of God. I had this deep-down feeling that this is what I’m supposed to do
for the rest of my life, to educate myself and use my past experiences of addiction,
depression, and prison, and use my success to…get these people the help they need
instead of just throwing them in prison.”654

108 American Civil Liberties Union

FLOriDA

Lance saltzman is serving LWOP
for armed burglary when he was 21
years old, when he broke into his
own home and took his stepfather’s
gun, which his stepfather had shot
at his mother and repeatedly used to
threaten her.
Saltzman was attacked by a pit bull when he was 17 months old, which caused head
trauma that left him with ongoing cognitive deficit, according to his mother.655
As a teenager, Saltzman had a serious drug problem, for which he says he never
received treatment.656 He was convicted of a series of misdemeanor offenses before
his eighteenth birthday, including driving with a revoked license, providing a false
name, marijuana possession, petty theft, and trespass.657 In 2003, Saltzman was
sentenced to two years in prison for burglary of his brother’s friend’s house with his
brother when he was 16 years old. He dropped out of school after completing the
ninth grade and worked a number of odd jobs including roofing, block work, and
house construction.658 He lived at home with his mother, Christina Borg; stepfather,
Toni Minnick; and younger brother.
One afternoon in March 2006, Saltzman told the ACLU, Minnick and his mother
were in the midst of a heated argument.659 At one point, Minnick retrieved his gun
from the bedroom, pointed it at Saltzman’s mother, and fired it near her.660 Borg
called the Green Acres Police Department to file a report.661 Officers took the gun,
for which Minnick had a permit, but returned it to him a few days later.662 No
charges were filed. According to Saltzman and his mother, shortly after his weapon
was returned, Minnick pulled the gun on Borg again and threatened to kill her.663
Saltzman told the ACLU that he feared for his mother’s life and “decided that
[Minnick] should not keep this firearm, as he already proved that he is not
responsible and a danger to all of us in the house.”664 One day in June, when no
one else was home, Saltzman removed the gun from his stepfather’s bedroom.665
According to evidence presented at trial, Saltzman subsequently sold the gun to a
friend to feed his drug addiction.666 The gun was later used in the commission of a
burglary. His mother told the ACLU, “As far as I’m concerned, I would be dead right
now if he hadn’t taken the gun.”667

Lance Saltzman with his sister,
Jessica.

When he was 22
years old, Saltzman
was sentenced to
mandatory life
without parole for
the burglary of his
own home, because
he committed
the crime within
three years of his
release from prison
for a burglary he
committed when
he was only 16.

When Minnick returned home from work that day, he noticed that his gun was
missing and notified the police. The police later found the gun in the possession of
the young man who had committed the burglary, who told the police he obtained
the firearm from Saltzman.668 Saltzman was charged with armed burglary, grand

A Living Death: Case Studies 109

theft of a firearm, and being a felon in possession of a firearm—all for breaking into
his own home and taking his stepfather’s gun. He had taken nothing other than the
gun and was charged with stealing only the gun. When police arrested Saltzman,
they found cocaine in his car and charged him with possession of cocaine as well.
Two months later, Saltzman was also charged with the burglary and grand theft
committed by the young man with his stepfather’s gun, though Saltzman claims he
was not involved in that crime.669

“

I was 21 years
old at the time [of
the crime]. I will
remain in prison
until I die. Now
I ask, has justice
been served?”

In February 2007, when he was only 22 years old, Saltzman was sentenced to
mandatory life without parole for the burglary of his own home. He was sentenced
under Florida’s Prison Releasee Reoffender Law because he was found to have taken
his stepfather’s gun within three years of his release from prison for the burglary he
had committed when he was only 16. According to Saltzman, prior to trial he was
offered a plea deal of five years; he says his attorney never explained to him that he
faced a likely life sentence if he was convicted at trial.670
Saltzman’s mother was shocked by her son’s sentence. “He left the house with a gun…
because he feared for his and my life,” she said.671 “It was a home he had lived in his
whole life. How do you burglarize your own home?”672 In an affidavit filed with the
Palm Beach County Court, Minnick argued for a reduction of his stepson’s sentence:
When Lance was suspected of stealing my firearm, I had never
intended to report more than a grand theft offense. Had I known
the State of Florida would prosecute this offense as one of a burglary
which would expose Lance to being incarcerated for life, I never would
have reported the offense to the police, as it was only a grand theft, at
the most.673
“In my heart,” he told the court a few years after Saltzman was imprisoned, “Lance
Saltzman should not have a life sentence…I feel Lance has done enough time in
prison for the crime he committed three years ago.”674
Saltzman’s incarceration has been devastating for his mother, who told the ACLU,
“I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I’m 91 pounds because of this, because I am sick to death
over what they are doing to my son. I’m dumbfounded over the whole thing.”675
Compounding her mental anguish, Borg says she is broke from paying her son’s
legal fees and can no longer afford an attorney to represent her son.676
Saltzman told the ACLU, “I was just trying to do the right thing. I didn’t burglarize
my own house; I lived there my whole life with mom and dad and brother. I
shouldn’t have a life sentence for going into dad’s bedroom.”677 He has now been in
prison for six years. In this time, he has taken a number of courses and participates
in a faith-based program. “I was 21 years old at the time [of the crime],” he said. “I
am now 29 years old. I will remain in prison until I die…Now I ask, has justice been
served?”678

110 American Civil Liberties Union

LOUiSiANA

Kawan stack has been serving LWOP

for possession of stolen things for 17

years, since he was only 23 years old.
�
Stack was a small-time street hustler who bought and sold items from others who
needed money to support their drug addictions. According to Stack, he did this to
support his own addiction to crack cocaine, which he had been using since age 14.679
Stack grew up without a father and says he repeatedly witnessed his mother being
beaten by boyfriends.680
kawan Stack
�

Following a burglary in an apartment, police found stolen property in Stack’s
apartment in November 1996: rings (including a ring depicting the face of Jesus
Christ), a gold chain, a men’s watch, a cordless telephone, and an amplifier.681 Police
investigating the burglary had contacted Stack’s probation officer to inquire whether
he was in possession of some of the stolen items. Stack told police that he had bought
the items from a “clucker,” a term for a drug addict who will do anything to obtain
drugs.682
Stack’s first trial ended in a mistrial when the owner of the property perjured
herself in court. According to Stack, the owner recanted and initially refused to
testify against him in his retrial, but she relented after the District Attorney’s office
threatened to charge her with falsifying a police report.683 On retrial, Stack was
convicted of two counts of possession of stolen things in May 1997.684
Stack was originally sentenced to seven years in prison on each of the two counts,
but he was resentenced to mandatory LWOP as a third-strike offender.685 Stack had
pleaded guilty to his two prior convictions for attempted armed robbery when he
was 17 years old and for two counts of distribution of 0.15 grams of cocaine when
he was 18 years old. Stack used no violence in the commission of the attempted
armed robbery.686 Of his second conviction, Stack says that he was selling fake crack
rocks to support his drug addiction and pleaded guilty to cocaine distribution even
though the prosecutor never produced a videotape of him selling the counterfeit
rocks to an undercover agent. According to Stack, he was never advised that his next
charge could result in a life sentence on account of his prior convictions.687

“

It’s like saying
you’ll never
amount to any
thing. You have no
rights, no privileg
es, and the govern
ment now owns
you. A man should
have a chance at
being redeemed.”

He says of his sentence, “It’s like saying you’ll never amount to anything, as what
was told to me as a child…You have no rights, no privileges, and the government
now owns you.”688 He adds, “A man should have a chance at being redeemed.”689 His
fiancée, Sandra Morris, and mother, Brenda Stack, stay in regular contact with him
and fervently hope for his release one day.
Stack has served 17 years of his LWOP sentence. He says that he has been reformed,
is now humble and wiser, and has purpose and vision. He has completed anger

A Living Death: Case Studies 111

management, substance abuse, and self-help programs while incarcerated. He
describes prison as “pure hell” and says he has been held in solitary confinement
for a combined five years for defiance, drug use, and possession of currency bills.690
In addition, according to Stack, Louisiana State Penitentiary prison guards sprayed
him with Sabre Red, a chemical agent, leaving him with second-degree burns on his
face and upper torso.
LOUiSiANA

Ricky Carthan, a junk dealer, is
serving LWOP for possession of
stolen metal parts.

The stolen metal
parts were found in
the possession of
a junk aluminum
recycling center.
The junk dealer
said he had
purchased the pipe
and 10 valves as
scrap metal from
Carthan, also a
junk dealer, for $65.

In August 1998, a jury convicted Carthan of felony possession of 10 stolen stainless
steel railroad tank car valves and a steel elbow pipe.691 The metal parts had been
stolen from a valve company and were found in the possession of a junk aluminum
recycling center. The junk dealer said he had purchased the metal parts as scrap
metal from Carthan for $65.692 Carthan, who had a junk business of his own, says
he had bought the items for $10 or $15 from another man known as Scarface.693
Though the $65 value of the metal parts was based on the set market rate per
pound of stainless steel, and the owner of the parts had not paid money for them
but received them in a swap from the owner of a recycling center, the jury found
the parts had a value greater than $100, the threshold for the offense to qualify as
a felony.694 The jury also convicted Carthan of misdemeanor possession of a stolen
cellular phone.695
Carthan, who also worked as an offshore rigger prior to his incarceration and served
in the U.S. Army until he was honorably discharged in 1977, was sentenced to
mandatory LWOP in December 1998 as a fourth felony offender under Louisiana’s
habitual offender law. He had previously pleaded guilty to two counts of issuing
worthless checks in 1997 and to theft of items valued between $100 and $500
in 1995, when he was 36 years old.696 He had also been convicted of attempted
aggravated rape in 1979, at age 20, for which he served eight years in prison.697
Now 54 years old, Carthan has been in prison for 16 years. He is married with three
children and talks with his mother once a week. The state of Louisiana terminated
his parental rights on account of his life sentence and also sought to terminate his
wife’s parental rightsfollowing her incarceration for issuing worthless checks.698
Carthan says his sentence is “like knowing you are alive, but not living.”699 He
unsuccessfully sought post-conviction relief, his habeas corpus petition challenging
his conviction and sentence was rejected as time-barred under the Antiterrorism
and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996, and several subsequent habeas petitions
were similarly dismissed.700 Carthan, who is Black, works as an inmate-counsel
substitute assisting other inmates with legal matters.

112 American Civil Liberties Union

LOUiSiANA

Ronald Lee Washington, 48, is
serving LWOP for shoplifting two
Michael Jordan jerseys from a Foot
Action athletic store in Shreveport,
Louisiana, in August 2004.701
On his way out of the store, Washington was confronted by the assistant
manager and gave him one of the jerseys before departing.702 When mall security
apprehended Washington outside the store, they found the second of the stolen
jerseys on him, and he admitted to taking it.703 Although Washington says the jerseys
were on sale that day for $45 each, he was held responsible for their full price of $60
each, raising his theft conviction from a misdemeanor to a felony because the total
amount exceeded $100.704 Following a 45-minute trial, Washington was convicted
of one count of felony theft of goods valued at over $100. A crack addict who also
worked as a drywall finisher, cook, and general laborer, Washington says that he
shoplifted in order to support his drug addiction.705
Washington was sentenced to LWOP as a fourth-strike felony offender under
Louisiana’s habitual offender law.706 Over the previous 21 years, he had been
convicted of forgery, possession of cocaine, four counts of theft of goods, and
twice of simple burglary.707 According to Washington, he had never received drug
treatment prior to being sentenced to spend the rest of his life in prison. He recalls
of his sentencing, “I felt as though somebody had just taken the life out of my
body.”708 He adds, “I seriously felt rejected, neglected, stabbed right through my
heart. I also felt it was…to be sentenced to death.”709

“

I felt it was to
be sentenced to
death. Whatever
you had or estab
lished, it’s now
useless, because
you’re being buried
alive at slow pace.”

Washington has been incarcerated for 10 years. He has finally received substance
abuse treatment and counseling, and he has completed anger management and
victim awareness programs. He works as a baker in the prison and spends his free
time in religious study. He laments that no matter his achievements in prison, he
will never be permitted to return to society. “Whatever you had or established, it’s
now useless, because you’re being buried alive at slow pace,” he says.710
LOUiSiANA

Paul Carter is serving LWOP for
possession of a trace amount of
heroin residue that was so minute it
could not be weighed.711
Carter grew up fatherless in what he describes as the “ghetto” of New Orleans, and

A Living Death: Case Studies 113

he began using drugs at an early age. He struggled with heroin addiction for years
but says he never received drug treatment before he was sentenced to die in prison.

He was initially
sentenced to 10
years in prison, but
after the prosecutor
won a motion
to reconsider his
sentence, Carter
was resentenced to
LWOP. Of his sen
tencing, Carter says
it felt “like the life
within you is taken
away.”

In November 1997, when Carter was 29 years old, two New Orleans police officers
investigating narcotics activity on a street corner near a housing project observed
Carter, with a plastic bag, standing with another man.712 Reportedly because they
believed Carter was about to make a drug sale, police searched him; they found a
hypodermic needle and a bottle cap in Carter’s coat pocket.713 Police also found a
small amount of powder inside a piece of foil on the ground, which prosecutors
said Carter had thrown.714 The residue in the bottle cap and the small amount of
powder inside the piece of foil tested positive for heroin; the syringe was clean.715 A
New Orleans Police Department criminalist testified for the prosecution that “the
amounts were too insignificant to weigh.”716 Police also found fake crack rocks on
Carter, which he said he was selling in order to obtain heroin for his own use.717
Carter was convicted of possession of heroin. He was initially sentenced to 10 years
in prison as a third-strike habitual offender, but after the prosecutor won a motion
to reconsider his sentence, Carter was resentenced to LWOP.718 Carter’s sentence was
based on two prior convictions, one for simple escape in 1987 at age 18, and the other
for possession of stolen property in 1990 at age 21.719 Of his sentencing, Carter says
it felt “like the life within you is taken away.”720 Now 45 years old, Carter has served
16 years in prison. While imprisoned, he has earned his GED, completed courses in
anger management and culinary arts, and is receiving substance abuse treatment.
He says that he wishes he could be given one more chance to become a productive
citizen, and he wishes to help prevent others from following the same path.721
LOUiSiANA

Patrick W. Matthews is serving
LWOP for stealing tools from a tool
shed and a welding machine from a
yard when he was 22 years old.

Patrick Matthews with his mother,
Cathy Matthews, and two children,
Blayton and Hayley, who are eight
and six years old.

114 American Civil Liberties Union

A father of two, Matthews worked for a historical restoration company, but after
construction work dried up he says he could not find employment and spiraled into
drug addiction. Despite his addiction to methamphetamine and heroin, Matthews
reports he never received any substance abuse evaluation or treatment after his first
conviction at age 18 or before he was sentenced to die in prison at age 22.
According to prosecutors, in April 2009, Matthews stole tools from the tool shed
on a property in Slidell, Louisiana, with a co-defendant.722 They also allegedly stole
a welding machine and generator from the yards of two other houses in Slidell.723
The property was recovered and returned. Matthews was arrested while riding in

the truck of a friend who pawned the tools; he says that he merely helped his friend
pawn some items he did not know were stolen.724
In November 2009, Matthews was convicted of one count of simple burglary, for
stealing the tools, and two counts of theft, for stealing the welding machine and
generator. Prior to convicting him, the jury asked whether he could instead be
convicted of accessory to burglary after the fact, but the court said no. Matthews
was originally sentenced to 10 years on the burglary count and seven years on
each of the theft counts. He was resentenced to life without parole for the burglary
charge as a fifth-time habitual offender and to 20 years on one of the theft charges.
“I never in the world would’ve thought that could happen,” he says. “Made one mistake
and was treated like a murderer.”725 He had no violent criminal history and had never
served a single day in a Department of Corrections facility. His co-defendant also had
prior convictions but received a five-year suspended drug court sentence.
Matthews’s prior convictions were four simple burglary convictions stemming from
a single incident in 2005 when he was 17 years old; he burglarized a pawn shop
and fruit stand with friends while high on methamphetamine, reportedly to get
money to buy more drugs. According to Matthews, his attorney told him that the
other charges would be dropped if he pleaded guilty to three simple burglaries, so in
order to return to his one-year-old son, he pleaded guilty to three counts of simple
burglary in 2005 and received a five-year suspended sentence. He was then rearrested
on a fourth simple burglary charge that was supposed to be dropped due to the plea
agreement (this count should have been resolved as part of the 2005 plea deal but was
inadvertently omitted) and was convicted of the fourth charge in 2007, making him
a four-time offender even though the charge had stemmed from the same incident in
2005, his first offense. He received an additional two years of probation. He says he
was never warned that he faced a potential life sentence if he burgled again.
In denying Matthews’s appeal, Judge Page McClendon wrote in a concurring
opinion, “I do not believe that the ends of justice are met by a mandatory sentence
for this 22-year-old defendant, who did not invade any homes and whose past
criminal history was limited to nonviolent crimes. Thus, I am constrained to
follow the mandate of the legislature… However, I am compelled to note that the
imposition of a life sentence for this particular defendant forever closes the door
of hope, negates any chance of the defendant becoming a contributing member
of society, and imposes an undue burden on the taxpayer, who is required to feed,
house, and clothe him for life.”726

“

I do not believe
that the ends of
justice are met
by a mandatory
[life] sentence for
this 22-year-old
defendant [which]
forever closes the
door of hope,
negates any chance
of the defendant
becoming a con
tributing member
of society, and
imposes an undue
burden on the
taxpayer.”
— Judge Page McClendon

His mother, Cathy Matthews, told the ACLU, “To see your child get life without
parole at 22 years old has to be the most gut-wrenching feeling that you could ever
feel. Because it’s like giving him a death sentence. Because there’s no life—no life for
a man, with his children or his parents or anybody else once they’re in there.”727 She
adds, “Something has to change. Because these boys are just getting wasted away in
these prisons for no reason…They’re not really bad, they just have a drug problem

A Living Death: Case Studies 115

and needed help and didn’t get that, either. Patrick didn’t get one ounce of drug
help. None.”728
Now 25, Matthews has earned his GED in prison and participates in Narcotics
Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous. He desperately misses his two young
children, Blayton and Hayley, who are eight and six years old, respectively. He says
of his sentence, “It feels like you are dead to the world, empty inside and stripped of
your children’s life…Stripped from the world, who treats you as if you are dead, in
the tomb.”729 He told the ACLU that he wishes for another chance to raise his children
and be a law-abiding citizen. “I pray I get another shot at life,” he said.730
LOUiSiANA

Timothy Jackson is serving LWOP
for shoplifting a jacket from a Maison
Blanche department store in New
Orleans when he was 36 years old.731
The jacket cost $159.
Timothy Jackson
�

Jackson, who worked as a restaurant cook and had only a sixth-grade education, was
addicted to drugs and says he was on drugs when he walked out of the store without
paying for the jacket in January 1996.732 A store security agent followed Jackson,
who put the jacket down on a newspaper stand and tried to walk away when he
realized he was being followed.733
At the time, Jackson’s crime carried a two-year sentence; it now carries a six-month
sentence. Instead, the court sentenced Jackson to mandatory life without parole,
using a two-decades-old juvenile conviction for simple robbery (from 1979, when
he was 17) and two simple car-burglary convictions (from 1986 and 1991) to
sentence him as a fourth-strike offender.734 The Louisiana Fourth Circuit Court of
Appeal initially decreased the sentence, calling it “excessive,” “inappropriate,” and
“a prime example of an unjust result.”735 Stating that Jackson “is a petty thief, but
he has not shown himself to be a violent criminal,” the court noted that he had not
used a weapon when he committed the 1979 robbery, during which he took $216.736
However, the Louisiana Supreme Court ruled that judges may not depart from
life sentences mandated by the habitual offender law except in rare instances. The
life sentence was reinstated despite the objections of Judge Bernette Johnson,
who wrote, “This sentence is constitutionally excessive in that it is grossly out of
proportion to the seriousness of the offense.”737
“I’m locked up like I killed someone. They’ve got people who killed people got
less time than I did,” Jackson said. “A $159 jacket. If somebody had told me I could
get life for that, I wouldn’t believe them.”738 His sister, Loretta Lumar, recalls of his

116 American Civil Liberties Union

sentencing, “When I heard ‘life,’ only thing I was thinking, [was] ‘death.’ And I just
broke down crying and just ran out of the courtroom…to me, that’s death.”739
Of his sentence, Jackson says, “A life sentence without parole, it take all hope from a
person and their family.”740 Sobbing, his sister told the ACLU, “It’s like he don’t even
exist no more because they took his life from him. He never been married. He don’t
have no kids whatsoever. And it’s a shame to see his life is just gone to waste. I try
not to think about him dying in there.”741 She adds, “It’s a hurting thing. It just hurts
to even just talk about him.”742
Jackson has served 16 years in prison. He is 52 years old and suffers from various
health problems, including diabetes, high blood pressure, and blackouts. He
has learned woodworking in prison and makes rocking chairs, dining sets, and
grandfather clocks, all of which are sold at the Angola prison rodeo. He has earned
his GED and has also participated in Alcoholics Anonymous and other selfimprovement programs. Jackson reports he has an excellent disciplinary record and
has achieved “trustee” status at Louisiana State Penitentiary, a classification granted
to prisoners who have served at least 10 years with good conduct and are trusted to
work outside the prison’s secure perimeters.
“I am much older and…I am a changed man,” Jackson says.743 “I would like to get
out of prison at an age that I could be able to work and help myself and others.”744
His sister told the ACLU that she prays her brother gets a second chance: “He done
paid his dues…I pray, every day, that he come home. That’s all I want to do, is see
him walk through them doors upstairs. Or be here before I get off from work and
just surprise me. That’s all I want. That’s all I want. I don’t want a million dollars—
I want none of that. I just want to see my brother walk home.”745

“

I’m locked up
like I killed some
one. They’ve got
people who killed
people got less
time than I did.
A $159 jacket. If
somebody had told
me I could get life
for that, I wouldn’t
believe them.”

OkLAHOMA

Larry Yarbrough, a grandfather,
restaurant owner, and livestock
farmer, was sentenced to LWOP after
police found an ounce of powder
cocaine, three marijuana cigarettes,
and scales during a raid of his home
in November 1994.

Larry yarbrough with a guide dog he
trained through a prison program.

Yarbrough was convicted of trafficking in a controlled dangerous substance
(cocaine) and misdemeanor possession of marijuana and paraphernalia. Yarbrough
claims the cocaine was planted by law enforcement officers, noting that evidence
introduced at trial revealed police found the drugs two hours after a drug-sniffing
dog failed to find them.746

A Living Death: Case Studies 117

In 1997, Yarbrough was sentenced to mandatory LWOP on the cocaine trafficking
charge for the 28 grams of cocaine found in his house. He was 47 years old. “After
I learned he was being given life without parole, I was upset about it,” one of the
jurors who convicted Yarbrough later wrote to the pardon board. “I lost it because
we were not told before we voted.”747

In 2002 and
again in 2011, the
Oklahoma Pardon
and Parole Board
unanimously
recommended
that Yarbrough’s
sentence be
commuted, but
the governor has
refused to do so.
Yarbrough has now
been incarcerated
for 18 years.

118 American Civil Liberties Union

Oklahoma state law requires an LWOP sentence for drug-trafficking charges after
prior convictions for two or more felonies.748 Yarbrough had been convicted of
receiving stolen property in 1989, for which he received probation. He had also
been convicted of four counts of unlawful delivery of marijuana and one count of
LSD delivery arising from a single sting operation in 1982, during which he says he
purchased four bags of marijuana from a dealer over four months for his own use
and shared a two-ounce bag of the marijuana with the dealer’s cousin, a confidential
informant. According to Yarbrough, the dealer also gave him a stamp to give to his
cousin, which he says he did not recognize as a tab of LSD.
In 2002, the Oklahoma Pardon and Parole Board unanimously recommended
commutation, but former Governor Frank Keating refused to commute the sentence.
In August 2011, the Pardon and Parole Board again recommended that his sentence
be commuted, but in October 2011 Governor Mary Fallin refused to do so.749
“I feel like I had just died,” Yarbrough says of his sentence. “It’s like your whole
world just end.”750 Now 63 years old, he has been incarcerated for 18 years. He
reports he has not been written up for any disciplinary infraction during his
nearly two decades in prison. He trains guide dogs for the blind and others with
disabilities, counsels young men entering prison, and says he has taken every
substance abuse program offered at his prison.
Yarbrough and his wife, Norma, have been married more than 42 years and have
five children and 13 grandchildren. Yarbrough says that being separated from
his family “is like taking out your heart, because my wife and kids are my reason
for living.”751 Before his incarceration, Yarbrough owned and operated a popular
barbecue restaurant in Kingfisher, Oklahoma, where he was known for giving back
to his community. If he were released, he would join his family in California and
run a barbecue restaurant with his wife, daughter, and son-in-law.

SOUTH CArOLiNA

Lloyd Wright, a 34-year-old
Charleston man, is serving LWOP for
selling $50 worth of crack cocaine
within a half-mile of a school.
In September 2007, Wright, then 28, sold crack cocaine to an undercover officer
posing as a drug buyer as part of a joint undercover operation by Charleston police
and the FBI.752 Police videotaped the transaction and arrested Wright three weeks
later.753 He says that he was selling crack because he was poor and unable to find
work; according to Wright, at the time, it was the only way he knew how to take care
of his family, including his ailing mother.754
A jury convicted Wright of charges of distribution of $50 worth of crack cocaine
and distribution of crack within a half-mile of a school.755 In May 2009, he was
sentenced to mandatory life without parole under South Carolina’s three-strikes law.
The court used a juvenile conviction as a necessary third strike to sentence Wright
to LWOP. According to prosecutors, Wright had previous convictions for possession
of crack, possession of a stolen vehicle, and unlawful carrying of a pistol dating back
to 1997, when he was 18 years old.
Wright has been incarcerated for five years, and he spends his time studying the law,
reading the Bible, and praying. He says he remains close to his wife and mother.
Wright told the ACLU of his sentence, “To me to have life without parole is just like
being dead…I am very stress[ed] and depress[ed] to know I might not ever be with
my loved ones and I might die back here in this place.”756 If given the opportunity
to appear before a parole board, he says, “I would [tell] them how I made some
mistakes in my life, [but] being in prison has changed my life…Even though I
committed a crime, I’m not a violent person, and I have changed my life to be more
positive and productive if I was to be let back in society.”757

Lloyd Wright. Photo credit: South
Carolina Department of Corrections

“

To me to have
life without parole is
just like being dead.
I am very stress[ed]
and depress[ed] to
know I might not
ever be with my
loved ones and I
might die back here
in this place.”

FLOriDA

Oscar Giles, 64, is serving a lifewithout-parole sentence for an
armed burglary committed when he
was 29. He has been incarcerated for
over three-and-a-half decades.
At 3:30 a.m. on December 20, 1978, a week before turning 30, Giles reports he broke
into a liquor store in Lakeland, Florida. According to Giles, no one was present

Oscar Giles

A Living Death: Case Studies 119

during the break-in.758 He says that when officers arrived on the scene, he ran and
was caught about 20 minutes later.759 According to Giles, officers found a gun on
the ground about three blocks away from the store and attributed the gun to him;
he says his fingerprints were not found on it.760 Giles told the ACLU he committed
the burglary because he was “young and stupid.”761 He had a tenth-grade education
and had been working as a laborer.762 He had one prior conviction for attempted
burglary of an unoccupied building committed in July 1978 for which he received a
five-year sentence.
In May 1979, Giles was convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment for the
armed burglary of the liquor store, 15 years for possession of an illegal weapon,
and five years for grand theft of over $300 but less than $20,000. When he heard the
sentence, Giles said, “It felt like I had been sentenced to the electric chair.”763
Since he was incarcerated 36 years ago, Giles says he has had only one visit.764 He
hopes to be released from prison so that he can spend time with his 85-year-old
mother before she dies.765 She lives in Alabama and is too old to visit him.766 It’s
“tough and lonely” in prison, Giles says. “I been in prison for 36 years. Seems like
I would get used to it. But that will never happen.”767 While in prison, he has taken
life skills programs and participated in Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics
Anonymous.768 He attends programs six nights a week and reads, exercises, and walks
in his spare time.769 He told the ACLU, “I am older and wiser now, I am sorry for all
the pain that I caused for my family…I just want to get out and do the right things.”770
LOUiSiANA

Godbolt was con
victed of simple
burglary and was
initially sentenced
to six years in
prison, but was
resentenced to life
without parole as a
habitual offender.

120 American Civil Liberties Union

Roderick Karzon Godbolt was
sentenced to LWOP for stealing a car
radio from a 1988 Nissan Stanza in
January 2004.
Godbolt had been fixing and reselling radios and claimed that he had permission
from the car owner’s cousin to take his car radio for repair and says he believed
he was taking the cousin’s car radio, but had the wrong car.771 He testified that he
was intoxicated at the time of the offense and later paid nearly $100 restitution
to the owner of the radio.772 Godbolt was convicted of simple burglary and was
initially sentenced to six years in prison, but was resentenced to LWOP as a habitual
offender.773 He had previous convictions for distribution of cocaine in 1995,
possession of cocaine in 1994, simple burglary of an inhabited dwelling in 1994, and
distribution of cocaine in 1994 and 1993.774 The trial court never informed him
of the one-year deadline to file a post-conviction appeal, and his applications for
post-conviction relief were denied as too late.775 His subsequent habeas corpus
petition was also denied as time-barred under the Antiterrorism and Effective Death

Penalty Act of 1996, which imposes a one-year deadline.776 Godbolt, who is Black, is
45 years old.
LOUiSiANA

Ronnie Chester was sentenced to
LWOP for possession of stolen tools.
In February 1994, a truck containing tools used in the owner’s construction business
disappeared from his carport in Hammond, Louisiana.777 The next day, Chester and
another man sold a toolbox containing over a dozen straight wrenches and four
offset wrenches to a friend for $30.778 The purchaser, who worked clearing land at
construction sites, subsequently discovered that the tools had been stolen from his
former employer and returned the tools to him.779 At Chester’s trial, the prosecutor
presented no direct or circumstantial evidence of how Chester came into possession
of the stolen tools.780 Nonetheless, Chester was convicted of possession of stolen
property and was sentenced to life without parole under Louisiana’s habitual offender
law.781 The court of appeal reversed his conviction and sentence on the grounds that
there was insufficient evidence to show that Chester was aware that the tools had
been the subject of a theft, and additional circumstantial evidence concerning his
acquisition of the tools would be required to sustain a conviction.782 On appeal, the
conviction and sentence were reinstated.783 Chester, who is Black, is 59 years old.
LOUiSiANA

Charles Alford is serving LWOP
for attempted possession of more
than 28 but less than 200 grams of
cocaine.
Alford ran and operated a parking lot in New Orleans. In February 1996, when
he was 30 years old, Alford says he tried to set up a drug deal, unaware that he
was interacting with an undercover officer. Alford was charged with possession of
cocaine, but he was convicted at trial of the lesser offense of attempted possession.
He was sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a third-strike offender under Louisiana’s
habitual offender law. According to Alford, he had two prior convictions, one for
possession of a stolen 10-speed bike in 1985 when he was 20 years old, and another
for possession of cocaine with intent to distribute in 1989 when he was 24.784
Alford says of his sentencing, “My life flashed in front of me. I thought I was going
to die in Angola. I remember being scared to tell my mother, I did not think she
could have handled this.”785 Since he was incarcerated 17 years ago, he has studied
welding and woodwork and graduated from his prison’s welding program. If

Charles Alford, at his graduation
from the Louisiana State Penitentiary
welding program.

“

When you watch
T.V. it really hurts;
you see how beauti
ful the world is.”

A Living Death: Case Studies 121

released from prison, he wants to get married and work as a welder. Alford, who
now is 47 years old and incarcerated at Louisiana State Penitentiary in Angola,
Louisiana, told the ACLU, “[It is] hell here at Angola, wondering will I ever get
married, will I ever own land, build a house. When you watch T.V. it really hurts;
you see how beautiful the world is.”786
LOUiSiANA

Percy Jones is serving LWOP for
possession of a stolen van.
In September 2006, Jones was found driving the Harvest Time Fellowship Church’s
stolen van, which bore the church’s logo and had been stolen four days earlier.787
Jones claimed that he had gotten the van from a friend.788 After a one-day trial,
he was found guilty of possession of a stolen vehicle worth more than $500. He
was initially sentenced to 10 years in prison but was subsequently sentenced to life
without parole as a fourth-strike felony offender in December 2007.789 Jones had
pleaded guilty to the three predicate convictions used to sentence him to LWOP:
attempted possession of a firearm by a convicted felon in 1996, theft in 1996, and
manslaughter in 1997.790 He also had a prior conviction for attempted simple
burglary in 1987.791 Jones, who is Black, is now 44 years old.
LOUiSiANA

stanley Carnell Veal is serving LWOP
for simple possession of two rocks of
crack cocaine.

Stanley Carnell veal
�

Veal says he dropped out of school after completing the eighth grade and later
descended into drug addiction.792 According to Veal, who is Black, he was pulled
over for speeding 50 miles per hour in a 20 mile-per-hour zone in Avondale and
patted down and searched by police, who found the crack.793 In February 2000, he
was initially sentenced to five years in prison but was subsequently sentenced to
LWOP at age 41 because of his prior convictions for attempted armed robbery in
1985, distribution of cocaine in 1991, and cocaine possession in 1995.
Veal says of his sentence, “It felt like a death penalty…for getting high off of
drugs.”794 Formerly a drug addict, Veal says, “I wished that I would have received
treatment for substance abuse and I believed that my effort would have changed my
life. I was denied treatment.”795 Veal has been incarcerated for 14 years and is now
55. He told the ACLU that he believes he has been rehabilitated through Louisiana
State Penitentiary’s self-help programs. While imprisoned, he has completed
substance abuse treatment and is drug free; he also participates in faith-based
programs and reads the Bible daily. He says that prison has been “a living hell,”

122 American Civil Liberties Union

and after witnessing the stabbing of another prisoner, he says, “I was in shock by
realizing that I really don’t belong here.”796\
MiSSiSSiPPi

William Henry Clay was sentenced
to LWOP for stealing tools valued at
about $250 from the back of a truck.797
Clay testified that he was drunk on corn whisky at the time of the crime, which
took place on New Year’s Eve 2001. Prosecutors systematically excluded four Black
potential jurors from the jury, which Clay unsuccessfully tried to challenge on
appeal.798 The jury convicted Clay of grand larceny, and although the crime carries
a maximum sentence of five years’ imprisonment, he was sentenced to a mandatory
LWOP sentence under Mississippi’s habitual offender law because of his prior
violent felony convictions more than twenty years earlier for attempted rape in 1975
and manslaughter in 1980.799

William Henry Clay
�

MiSSiSSiPPi

James Curtis Kelly was sentenced to
LWOP for grand larceny for stealing
a money bag from a desk drawer in a
municipal building.800
A married father, Kelly worked as a forklift operator. According to Kelly, he
struggled with drug addiction and previously stole to support his addiction, but had
finally entered treatment following a prior arrest and was getting his life back on
track. In June 2003, he was working off fines by washing cars and doing janitorial
work for the Flowood Police Department in central Mississippi.801 A court clerk
noticed a money bag was missing from a desk drawer, and police later recovered
it from Kelly’s car.802 He was sentenced to a mandatory LWOP sentence under
Mississippi’s habitual offender law because of his prior convictions for robbery and
grand larceny.803 According to court records, he had previously pleaded guilty to one
count of grand larceny, one count of strong arm robbery, and three counts of armed
robbery in 1986, when he was 19 years old, and in 1998, when he was 28 years
old.804 Kelly, who is Black, is now 47 years old and has served 10 years of his LWOP
sentence. He has completed drug treatment in prison and says that being separated
from his family has been “pure hell.”805

James Curtis kelly
�

A Living Death: Case Studies 123

MiSSiSSiPPi

Vincent Carnell Hudson was
sentenced to LWOP for having
a trace, unweighable amount of
cocaine in his pockets—an amount
invisible to the naked eye.

The trace amount
of cocaine in his
pockets was so
small that the state
crime forensic
examiner testified
it was “not a weigh
able amount of
substance.”

In February 2007, Hudson a mechanic, was arrested for having an open container
of beer while riding as a passenger in his brother’s car near the small town of
Louisville, Mississippi.806 After his arrest, police sent the clothing Hudson was
wearing to a state crime lab for testing.807 The lab reportedly found a trace amount
of cocaine in one shirt pocket and one pants pocket. The amount of cocaine was so
small that the state crime forensic examiner testified it was “not a weighable amount
of substance” and “just a very, very minute amount of substance.”808 Hudson was
convicted of possession of cocaine and sentenced to LWOP under Mississippi’s
habitual offender statute because of his prior felony convictions, which dated back
more than 20 years.809 According to the court, Hudson’s prior convictions were for
felony shoplifting, possession of heroin, aggravated assault of a law enforcement
officer, armed robbery, and felony driving under the influence.810
Hudson was imprisoned at the Mississippi State Penitentiary in Parchman in
October 2008. He was in good health and was well enough to work in the cafeteria.
In September 2009, he was placed in solitary confinement as a disciplinary action
for having a cell phone in his possession. After his two- or three-week confinement,
61-year-old Hudson reported he emerged frail, weak, and suffering from severe
pneumonia. According to the Southeastern Christian Association, he complained
that he could hardly walk, and for three weeks he was treated at the prison
infirmary, where he coded twice. He was transferred to a hospital, where he was
placed on a respirator, underwent dialysis, and required insertion of a feeding
tube over the course of his four-week hospitalization. Following his return to the
prison infirmary in December 2009, he was unable to walk, speak, see, or eat. He
still had a tracheostomy and feeding tube inserted and was partially paralyzed and
incontinent. In early 2010, his family reported that he appeared to be malnourished
and dehydrated, and they feared for his life.
In March 2010, the Supreme Court of Mississippi reversed and rendered his
conviction and sentence, not because his sentence was excessive, but because the
court found that the evidence against him was insufficient to show that Hudson
was aware of the trace amount of cocaine in his pockets or that he consciously and
intentionally possessed it.811

124 American Civil Liberties Union

LOUiSiANA

Ronald Kyles is serving LWOP for
simple burglary of a vacant house in
Bogalusa, Louisiana.
The house had been vacant for over a year; the owner had moved out of the
house after her son was found dead there.812 Late one morning in February 2006,
a neighbor noticed Kyles exiting the house with a television set.813 Based on the
neighbor’s description of Kyles’s car, police later arrested Kyle at his house. He told
police he had a circular saw and power converter from the house and claimed that a
white man named Danny had sold him the tools and left with the television.814 The
police report supported some aspects of Kyles’s story, as it stated that the neighbor
witnessed Kyles with a white man.815 His first trial resulted in a mistrial when jurors
could not agree on a verdict. Kyles was convicted of simple burglary on retrial and
initially sentenced to 10 years in prison. That sentence was then vacated and he was
given a mandatory life-without-parole sentence under Louisiana’s four-strikes law
because of his prior convictions for simple burglary of two sheds, two convictions
for possession of stolen property, and two convictions for theft dating back as
far as two decades.816 Kyles, who is Black, reports he had struggled with mental
health and substance abuse, but he says he had married, had finally turned his life
around since 2004, and was working as a truck driver to support his family.817 He
recalls that when he heard his sentence, “I almost passed out.”818 Now 49, he has
been incarcerated for seven years, during which his son, sister, brother, and mother
have died.819 He remains in contact with his wife, and participates in Narcotics
Anonymous and a Bible studies program in prison.

ronald kyles with his wife, Mechelle
kyles.

SOUTH CArOLiNA

Lowell J. Washington is serving
LWOP for kicking in the back door
of a house during the daytime and
entering the home in an aborted
burglary attempt.820
The house belonged to a police officer with the Greenville County Police
Department, who returned home while Washington was inside. Washington had
not taken any possessions, did not resist the officer, and remained seated until more
officers arrived at the scene. He had two previous housebreaking convictions and
one burglary conviction. These previous convictions were the only aggravating
circumstances elevating the break-in to first-degree burglary, and without the prior
convictions Washington would have been charged with second-degree burglary.821

Lowell Washington. Photo credit:
South Carolina Department of
Corrections

A Living Death: Case Studies 125

His defense lawyer explained to the jury, “There is no violence in this case. There is no
weapon. This is not a nighttime burglary. This is a burglary second charge, which they
want to elevate to a burglary first based on his prior record. This is a classic burglary
second case. He was caught red handed in the act. No violence. Total cooperation.
Made a statement. Sat down. No problem. No resistance. Daylight hours. And they
want you to convict him on a technicality.’”822 Notwithstanding his lawyer’s arguments,
the jury convicted Washington of first-degree burglary. Because the trial judge found
that Washington’s two burglary charges constituted a “most serious” offense under
South Carolina’s two-strikes law, he was sentenced to life without parole.823
SOUTH CArOLiNA

James R. Byers Jr. is serving LWOP
for selling $10 worth of crack cocaine
to a confidential informant within a
half-mile of an elementary school in
August 2009.
James Byers Jr. with (from left) his
sister, elnita Garner; his mother,
rubie Davis; and his sister, regina
ellis.

Cherokee County sheriff ’s deputies videotaped the controlled drug buy, and Byers
was convicted at trial of distribution of crack cocaine and distribution of crack
cocaine within a half-mile of a school or park.824 Byers, who is Black, objected to the
prosecutor’s striking of potential Black jurors from the jury pool.825 In April 2011,
Byers was sentenced at age 28 to mandatory LWOP under South Carolina’s threestrikes law.826 According to prosecutors, Byers had five prior drug convictions.827
MiSSiSSiPPi

Mario London is serving LWOP
for shoplifting a computer from a
Walmart.828

Mario London
�

126 American Civil Liberties Union

London, who is Black, was not identified until three weeks later, when a witness
picked him out of a photographic lineup. London was convicted of grand larceny,
and although the crime carries a maximum sentence of five years’ imprisonment,
because of his prior felony convictions he was sentenced to a mandatory LWOP
sentence under Mississippi’s habitual offender law.829 According to court records,
London had 11 prior felony convictions, four of which were classified as “crimes
of violence” by the court.830 His prior convictions included kidnapping, aggravated
assault, theft of over $100,000, burglary, entering an airport with intent to commit
a felony, and possession of a controlled substance.831 He had served three years and
eight months in total for these prior offenses.

SOUTH CArOLiNA

Curtis Eugene Land is serving LWOP
for prying open the back door of a
house in an attempt to burglarize it.
A jury found that Land had pried open the back door of a house in Westminster,
South Carolina.832 According to prosecutors, he ran away when a 13-year-old pointed
a shotgun at him and was arrested a short distance from the home.833 He was
convicted of first-degree burglary, and in August 2012, at age 47, he was sentenced to
LWOP under South Carolina’s three-strikes law because of his prior convictions.
FLOriDA

Alfonse Danner, a decorated U.S.
Navy veteran, is serving LWOP for
armed burglary and grand theft.
He has been incarcerated for almost
18 years.
Danner joined the U.S. Navy in 1989 and worked on the flight deck of the U.S.S.
Ranger aircraft carrier in San Diego, California. In 1991, he served in the Persian
Gulf War.834 After that, “things went downhill for me,” he told the ACLU.835 He
reports he had a drug addiction and was discharged from the military due to his
substance abuse.836 He says he realized the severity of his problem too late and
wishes he had sought help early on.837 “What really bothers me,” he says, “is the fact
that I never truly had any treatments or was offered any… I was confused and was
not coping with my life properly. I had a lot of potential but my mind was not right.
Needed help.”838

Alfonse Danner
�

In order to support his drug addiction, Danner said, he committed a series of
burglaries over four months in 1995. He was charged with a burglary and grand
theft committed on May 4, 1995; a burglary and grand theft committed on May 26,
1995; and an attempted burglary committed on June 28, 1995. According to Danner,
while he was incarcerated in the Hillsborough County Jail in September 1995 for
both these charges and a few probation violations, a new charge for a burglary
allegedly committed on September 6, 1995, was brought against him.839 The
prosecutor, he said, offered him a 34-month prison sentence if he pleaded guilty to
all charges.840 Although he maintains he did not commit the September 6 burglary,
Danner accepted the offer and was sentenced to 34 months on October 13, 1995.841
While waiting to enter custody to serve his sentence, prosecutors brought another
charge against Danner: armed burglary and grand theft, allegedly committed on

A Living Death: Case Studies 127

September 4, 1995, during which a gun, three televisions, a VHS camcorder, a
Canon camera, a boom box, $500 in cash, and a 7-week-old puppy were stolen from
a house while its residents were away.842 The burglary was “armed” because a gun
was taken.843 Danner maintains he did not commit this crime and says that there
were no eyewitnesses and no property or weapon was ever recovered or traced back
to him. He was convicted based only on fingerprints that were matched to him.844
Danner fought the charges in court but was convicted as charged. In March 1996,
when Danner was 28 years old, the same judge who had only recently sentenced him
to 34 months in prison this time imposed a sentence of life without parole.845

“

After 18 years
I still can’t believe
this. [Life without
parole] makes you
feel almost hope
less, useless and
you’re just waiting
on your death. It’s
like a slow, long,
agonizing death
sentence.”

128 American Civil Liberties Union

Danner says he was shocked that the judge so drastically increased the sentence when
“just a few months prior to that, he was the same judge that gave me 34 months,
which means he did not feel the need to protect the public or think I was a danger
to society.”846 His confusion was compounded by the fact that, according to him, his
Pre-Sentence Investigation Report recommended a sentence of five to seven years.847
Serving a life sentence is “traumatizing,” Danner said. “After 18 years I still can’t
believe this.”848 He told the ACLU that life without parole “makes you feel almost
hopeless, useless and you’re just waiting on your death. It’s like a slow, long,
agonizing death sentence.”849 Since he has been in prison, he has lost his father,
mother, and sister. Before his sister’s death, she visited Danner almost every month.
Their deaths “hurt even more than the sentence,” he said.850
During his first few years in prison, Danner reports he was very angry and served
30 days at a time in solitary confinement on eight or 10 occasions.851 Now 45 years
old and nearly 18 years into his sentence, he says he has taken responsibility for
his past actions and has become “very much more mature, humble…and a lot
more focused” and has gained “a lot of respect for freedom.”852 Danner has taken a
number of courses, including life skills classes, family enrichment, and computer
drafting. While incarcerated, he has worked as an AutoCAD software operator and
for Pride Furniture. He spends his time reading everything from history to science
to current events.853 Danner calls himself a changed man and says he believes he can
now be a productive citizen and “prove people can change.” “I’m in no way saying I
shouldn’t be punished,” Danner said. “But I feel justice in America should be fair.”854

FLOriDA

Ivan Anderson was sentenced to
LWOP in 2007 for an armed burglary
that he committed in 2005, when he
was 22 years old.
Anderson’s mother died when he was an infant, and he was put in foster care, where
he says he was physically and sexually abused.855 When he was seven, he met his father
for the first time. He went to live with his father and stepmother but reports he was
abused by family members and eventually was returned to the foster care system,
where, he says, “Sexual abuse and running away was the norm.”856 Anderson, who is
Black and Latino, has since been diagnosed with depression and an anxiety disorder.857
In January 2005, Anderson burglarized the unoccupied home of part-time Florida
residents who were in Canada at the time. According to prosecutors, he took power
tools, a television, a car, and a rifle.858 At the time of the crime, Anderson was
enrolled in Florida Career College and pursuing a career in the medical field.859
He had held numerous jobs, including at the Missing Children Help Center, a
supermarket, and car rental and car sales lots; he also held temp positions at
construction and assembly-line job sites. He worked to support his wife and infant
daughter and says he was struggling to pay off his and his wife’s college loans and
credit card debts.860
At trial, Anderson was convicted of armed burglary, grand theft auto, and two
counts of dealing in stolen property for pawning the stolen television and power
tools.861 The burglary was charged as armed because a rifle was taken from the
home. A conviction for grand theft of items valued at under $300 was later
overturned on appeal.862 Anderson was sentenced to LWOP under Florida’s Prison
Releasee Reoffender Law. Because he committed the armed burglary within three
years of his release from prison, he was mandatorily sentenced to the maximum
sentence for this crime in the state of Florida: life in prison without the possibility
of parole.863 Anderson’s prior convictions were for burglary of a structure, two
grand thefts of a car, grand theft, and aggravated fleeing, all of which he committed
at 19 over the course of seven months.

ivan Anderson
�

“

Mr. Anderson,
I’m very sorry.
There [are] a lot
of bad people that
have done a lot
worse things than
you and not have
had the opportu
nity to suffer what
you’re about to.”
— Judge richard i. Wennet

At Anderson’s sentencing hearing, the judge, Judge Richard I. Wennet, asked
whether there was any legal basis for him to avoid imposing the sentence before
announcing that he had “no alternative” but to impose life imprisonment as a
mandatory minimum sentence.864 Judge Wennet told Anderson, “Mr. Anderson, I’m
very sorry. There [are] a lot of bad people that have done a lot worse things than
you—not that I’m saying that this was particularly a nice or good thing, but they’ve
done a whole lot worse than you and not have had the opportunity to suffer what
you’re about to.”865

A Living Death: Case Studies 129

Anderson’s wife gave birth to a son in the months after the burglary and before his
trial. At the time of Anderson’s sentencing, his daughter was two years old and his
son was less than a year old. Now, his daughter, Aline, is eight and his son, Elijah, is
seven.866 Anderson says that because of his own experience growing up without a
family, he desperately wants to parent his children, whom he describes as the light of
his life. “Life without parole means forever,” he says. “It means I won’t be able to buy
my daughter her graduation present, I won’t be able to pay for her college tuition. I
won’t be able to watch her or my son grow up….What it means, is endless.”867
Anderson is now 31 years old and has been in prison for six years. He has worked
as an orderly in the prison chapel and in the canteen. During his free time, he
enjoys reading novels, writing his own novels, teaching other prisoners about
entrepreneurship, and watching world news.868 If released from prison, Anderson
says he would like to start a non-profit geared toward teaching the elderly how to
use computers and another non-profit to help families who cannot afford to visit
their relatives in prison to do so.869
LOUiSiANA

Leroy fields is serving LWOP for
possession of a stolen car.

Leroy Fields
�

His attorney called
no witnesses and
introduced no
evidence in his
one-day retrial,
and the jury
deliberated for
only 25 minutes.
130 American Civil Liberties Union

An unemployed 30-year-old father of three, Fields was arrested in October 1999
when he was pulled over in New Orleans for a traffic violation and found to be
driving a Dodge Intrepid that had recently been reported stolen.870 Fields says that
he did not know the car was stolen and had borrowed the car from a friend named
Michael Fairly, whom his state-appointed attorney failed to call as a witness at trial.
Fields was never accused of stealing the car and was charged only with possession
of a stolen vehicle worth over $500.871 The jury could not reach a verdict in his first
trial, which ended in a mistrial.872 According to court records, his attorney called no
witnesses and introduced no evidence in his one-day retrial, and the jury returned a
guilty verdict after deliberating for 25 minutes.873
In June 2000, Fields was sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a third-strike habitual
offender because of his prior convictions for possession of crack cocaine in 1993 and
simple robbery in 1986 for stealing a $90 pair of shoes from a shoe store when he
was 17 years old.874 Fields had also been convicted of simple burglary of an inhabited
dwelling in 1989, but this conviction was not used to enhance his sentence because
he had not been properly advised of his rights. Fields had pleaded guilty to all three
prior charges and says his prior crimes were directly related to his drug addiction and
efforts to provide for his wife and young children when he was unable to find work.
He tried to challenge the juvenile robbery conviction used to sentence him to LWOP,
but his habeas petitions were rejected as untimely.875 “The court wrongfully took my
life from me,” Fields said. “I felt like there was no help for me, and I was expected to
die here in prison. And I still feel that…I’ll die here in Angola.”876

Now 45, Fields has been incarcerated for 14 years. He describes prison as a “living
hell” and says that earlier during his imprisonment, “I really wanted to give up on
myself and my life…I saw no hope.”877 He has committed a number of disciplinary
infractions in prison and reports that he has spent 12 of his 14 years in solitary
confinement.878 Fields explains, “When I first got life, I really felt my life was over
and I would die here in prison, so I really act[ed] out a lot.”879
Fields says that now that he has gotten clean and developed some hope that
Louisiana’s sentencing laws will change, he is a completely different person. He
wishes he could have the opportunity to appear before a parole board, “to meet Mr.
Leroy Fields now instead of the drug addict I once was.”880 If released from prison,
he says, “I would work, I’ll go home and be with my family and enjoy what little life
I have left in me, crime-free.”881
LOUiSiANA

Aaron Jones is serving LWOP for
unauthorized use of a motor vehicle
for borrowing a co-worker’s truck
without permission.
An electrician, Jones was working on renovating a motel in Kissimmee, Florida, in
April 1999.882 According to Jones, he shared an employer-provided apartment with
two other workers, one of whom had a truck that was used as a company vehicle by
all the co-workers, and Jones decided to use it to drive home to Louisiana and visit
his wife and four children.883 Jones’s co-worker woke up to find his truck missing
and reported it stolen.884 Jones, who is Black, was subsequently found driving the
truck by police, who pulled him over for driving through a stop sign.885 He was
sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a fourth felony offender at age 34 because of
prior convictions for issuing worthless checks in 1995, negligent homicide in 1989,
and armed robbery in 1982.886 After he served two years in prison for the negligent
homicide conviction, which stemmed from a knife fight outside of a bar during
which Jones unintentionally killed his attacker, he had turned his life around.887
He earned an electrical technician degree, married, became an ordained reverend,
and founded the Perfect Love Outreach Ministry. Now 49 years old, Jones has been
incarcerated for 14 years. He says of his sentence, “You are just waiting for your
number to be called, to heaven or hell.”888

Aaron Jones with his daughter, Joy
Jones, whom he describes as “the
apple of my eyes.”

“

You are just
waiting for your
number to be
called, to heaven
or hell.”

A Living Death: Case Studies 131

LOUiSiANA

Darrell Johnson is serving LWOP for
serving as a middleman in the sale
of $20 worth of crack cocaine to an
undercover officer in New Orleans.

Darrell Johnson
�

According to Johnson, a self-described crack addict who worked at Popeye’s, he
was approached by an undercover officer about purchasing cocaine and referred
her to someone who sold her two crack rocks. He says he never sold the officer
anything himself. He was convicted of distribution of cocaine in 1998, when he
was 34 years old. He was initially sentenced to seven-and-a-half years but was
subsequently sentenced to LWOP under Louisiana’s three-strikes law, because of
prior convictions for simple burglary of a vehicle in 1991 and possession of cocaine
in 1988.889 Johnson recalls of his sentencing, “It felt like my life was sucked right out
of me.”890 When he began serving his sentence at Louisiana State Penitentiary in
Angola, he reports he continued to struggle with drug addiction. He says, “Words
cannot explain the heartaches I have endured being in Angola because of my drug
addiction.”891 Now 49, he has been incarcerated for 15 years, during which he has
completed substance abuse, anger management, and faith-based programs. Johnson
is presently studying for his GED, as he had only completed the eighth grade prior
to his incarceration. “It feels as if there is no hope or life for you whatsoever,” he said
of his sentence. “I would like a chance to prove myself to the world.”892
FLOriDA

John Montgomery is serving LWOP
for an armed burglary committed
while he was off of the medications
that treat his bipolar disorder.

John Montgomery with his mother
and grandmother.

132 American Civil Liberties Union

On April 21, 2011, Montgomery was convicted of armed burglary, possession of
burglary tools, burglary of an unoccupied structure, and grand theft. According to
the arrest report, on August 26, 2010, Montgomery entered John Wilson’s home
with a crowbar and tried to steal a safe containing $3,000 in cash.893 The arrest
report indicates that Wilson told police that when Montgomery saw Wilson, he
attempted to hit him with the hand cart he had been using to transport the safe.894
The two began fighting, and Wilson reportedly struck Montgomery a few times on
the head before Montgomery fled in his Jeep Cherokee.895 Montgomery claims he
entered the home to help his friend move and did not intend to commit theft.896 He
says he did not realize anything was wrong until Wilson entered the house and the
two got into a struggle.897

According to the arrest report, police chased after Montgomery’s car, and
Montgomery eventually fled on foot into the woods.898 The officer deployed his
Taser after Montgomery refused to come out from behind the brush, and, according
to the officer, Montgomery struggled with him to knock the Taser away.899 The
officer eventually deployed the Taser on Montgomery’s back and took him into
custody. Police found Wilson’s air compressor, floor jack, and BC regulator for
open water diving in Montgomery’s car.900 Montgomery told the police that he had
been chased by demons for the last four days and was unable to recall where he was
coming from, where he was going, or if he had run from the officer.901
Montgomery has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder with psychosis.902 According
to Montgomery, he had been receiving treatment for his mental illness but became
delusional and psychotic when, at times, he went off his medication. He says his
family was concerned for his safety and tried to get help for him.903 Montgomery
told the ACLU that immediately before committing the armed burglary that led to
his life-without-parole sentence, he was turned away from the hospital, where he
sought treatment for his mental illness, because there was no room.904
Although in an initial psychological evaluation requested by defense counsel,
Montgomery was found to be sane at the time of the offense and competent to
proceed with trial, the evaluator noted that he suffers from serious and continuing
mental health issues.905 According to his lawyer, during trial Montgomery stated
he was not receiving proper medications and reported experiencing auditory
hallucinations.906
Montgomery was sentenced to life without parole on the armed burglary charge
under Florida’s Prison Releasee Reoffender Law, and five years’ imprisonment for
the other charges. He says that hearing his sentence made him feel “like a nightmare
was coming true.”907 He was 38 years old.
According to Montgomery, due in large part to his mental illness and lack of proper
treatment, he had previously committed a series of crimes as a teenager and young
adult. In June 1998, Montgomery was sentenced to over three years in prison for a
series of offenses committed between the ages of 18 and 21: four counts of burglary
of an unoccupied structure, two counts of grand theft, one count of battery of a law
enforcement officer, one count of resisting an officer with violence, and one count
of possession of a firearm by a felon. A few months later, in September 1998, he
was sentenced to three-and-a-half years and four-and-a-half years for possession
of cocaine and burglary of an occupied dwelling, respectively. In May 2007, he was
sentenced to four years in prison for aggravated assault of a law enforcement officer
and fleeing a law enforcement officer. Prior to his incarceration, Montgomery
worked as a fine dining food server and in the tree service industry.908 He had a GED
and had completed some college courses.909

Montgomery said
that immediately
before committing
the armed burglary
that led to his
LWOP sentence, he
was turned away
from the hospital,
where he sought
treatment for his
mental illness,
because there was
no room.

Since he began serving his LWOP sentence three years ago, Montgomery reports he
has sought treatment from a prison psychiatrist who at last ascertained the correct

A Living Death: Case Studies 133

dosage and medication for him.910 “This changed my life,” he said.911 Armed with the
correct medications, he says he believes he can return to society, finish college, and
obtain a job.912 In prison, he has participated in Alcoholics Anonymous, Bible study,
and anger management programs, and has received other counseling.913 He also
attends church and sings in the choir.914 Now 41 years old, he hopes to be released
so that he can spend time with his family, whom he says he misses dearly.915 It is
“devastating,” he said. “To think that I might never be out there with [my family]
again is heartbreaking.”916 He speaks with his mother and grandmother on the
phone every day, and they visit when they are able.917
Discussing his sentence, Montgomery told the ACLU, “There is a hopelessness
that cannot be explained—to think that you will die in here is ever present, always
in the back of your mind.”918 Montgomery reports he was once placed in solitary
confinement for 37 days for laughing at the wrong time, which was considered
disorderly conduct.919
Prison “has turned out for the good,” Montgomery said. “I’ve gotten proper mental
health care, learned about my illness, gotten on a medication program that works,
but now I am ready to go home.”920
FLOriDA

Kenneth Penton is serving
mandatory life without parole for an
armed burglary he committed when
he was just 20 years old.

kenneth Penton
�

According to Penton, in January 2005, after walking out following an argument
with his uncle, he later returned home when no one else was present to retrieve
his clothes and work boots.921 He says he came across two guns that his cousins
had brought over, took them, and left.922 Penton was charged with armed burglary
(because he stole weapons), two counts of grand theft of a firearm, and two counts
of possession of a firearm by a convicted felon.923 Penton pleaded guilty to the
possession and theft counts and proceeded to trial on the armed burglary charge.924
In May 2006, he was convicted and sentenced to life without parole for armed
burglary. He was 22 years old.
Penton was sentenced to LWOP under Florida’s Prison Releasee Reoffender Act.925
According to Penton, his uncle repeatedly wrote to the court, asking that his nephew
not be sent to prison and instead receive much-needed drug treatment, but the
sentence was mandatory under the law.926 “It is hard to explain how horrible it felt
to be standing there and receive a life sentence for next to nothing,” Penton said. “It
is the worst experience I have ever felt.”927
Penton had numerous prior convictions for crimes he committed at ages 16, 17,

134 American Civil Liberties Union

20, and 21. In 2002, he was sentenced to two-and-a-half years in prison for a string
of burglaries and thefts committed over several days when he was 16 years old,
resulting in convictions for four counts of burglary, two counts of grand theft,
and one count of criminal mischief (for property damage) committed on August
4, 2000, and one count of burglary and one count of grand theft committed three
days later. Penton pleaded no contest to misdemeanor petty theft in December
2000.928 In May 2001, when he was 17, Penton pleaded no contest to battery and
breach of peace or disorderly conduct and was sentenced as a youthful offender to
11 months and 30 days in jail.929 When he was 20, Penton was convicted of felony
battery (touch or strike) committed in July 2004.930 He was also convicted of battery,
underage possession of liquor, and disorderly conduct committed a few weeks
later.931 In 2005, Penton was convicted of grand theft of a motor vehicle, trespassing,
and bribery committed on his twenty-first birthday.932 He says that his crimes were
a result of his drug abuse. Prior to his incarceration, he had been working with his
uncle on tree work and erosion control.
Penton told the ACLU that prison has been extremely difficult for him, explaining,
“I feel like a dead man walking. My life seems over, that there really isn’t no point to
live.”933 He said he was “young and dumb” at the time of his crimes and that he has
since learned patience. “I made a bad decision at 20 years old,” he said. “I’ve grown
up over these last eight and a half years; please don’t make me die in prison for a
mistake I made that my victim didn’t even want me to go to prison for!”934

“

I’ve grown up
over these last 8½
years, please don’t
make me die in
prison for a mis
take I made that
my victim didn’t
even want me to go
to prison for!”

Penton has been incarcerated for seven years and now is 29 years old. He says he has
tried to reform himself but struggles to gain access to many rehabilitation programs
in prison on account of his sentence. He participates in his prison’s Alcoholics
Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous programs and has taken parenting and
wellness classes.935 If Penton were released, he wants to live with his family and help
provide for his mother.936 He said it breaks his heart knowing that he has left his
family when they need him.937
FLOriDA

in 2009, Joel Daigle was sentenced
to LWOP for armed burglary for
stealing DvDs, tools, three World War
ii rifles, and two bayonets.938
According to Daigle, the firearms that were stolen and used to increase the charge
to armed burglary did not contain any ammunition.939 He was caught after crashing
his car into a truck and subsequently hiding a bundle containing the stolen items in
the woods. Police searched Daigle’s car and found burglary tools, oxycodone, and
morphine.940

Joel Daigle with his two sons, who
were ages three and seven when he
was sentenced to life without parole.

Daigle has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder.941 His wife, Nicole Daigle, says she

A Living Death: Case Studies 135

The man whose
house was broken
into asked that
the judge not
give Daigle a life
sentence and said a
sentence of five to
10 years would be
more appropriate.
However, because
the LWOP sentence
was mandatory,
the judge’s hands
were tied.

tried to seek professional help for him, but because the family did not have health
insurance and struggled to make ends meet, Daigle could not afford sustained
mental health treatment.942 As a result, she says, he often turned to “self-medication”
to “regain his mental balance and emotional stability.”943 Unfortunately, she said,
“Self-medicating in reality means addiction. My husband has battled an on-and-off
drug addiction for many of years.”944 According to both Daigle and his wife, at
the time of his crime, he was depressed and self-medicating with narcotics in an
attempt to treat his bipolar disorder.945
Daigle was sentenced to LWOP under Florida’s Prison Releasee Reoffender law. At
his sentencing, the man whose house was broken into testified on Daigle’s behalf,
asking that the judge not give Daigle a life sentence and stating that he believed a
sentence of five to 10 years would be more appropriate.946 His wife also spoke during
his sentencing hearing, describing her husband’s attentiveness and devotion to his
children, aged three and seven when Daigle was sentenced, despite his life-long
struggle with bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety. She said:
Having someone ripped out of our lives in one day with no warning,
and not a part of the daily picture is almost like death, but not. The
uncertainty of when this sentence will end is unbearable. I have had
so much anxiety that it affects me every day. My children do not really
understand, and I’ve had to try to simplify it to them as to not create
anxiety in them either. They ask for him all of the time, and I can see a
huge change in them with him not being around. He made us complete.
We were a family when we were together.… Please help us to be a family
again, and let him have the right to return home to us in the future…I
plead to the court to not give him a life sentence and throw him away
like garbage, but rather treat him like the human being he is.947
However, because the sentence was mandatory, the judge’s hands were tied, and Daigle
received a mandatory sentence of life in prison without the possibility of parole.
Daigle has been in prison for five years, during which he has completed a parenting
class. His father, wife, and two sons, now seven and 11, visit him twice a year.948
LOUiSiANA

Rayvell finch is serving LWOP for
simple possession of heroin at age 22.

rayvell Finch with his mother, Linda.
�

136 American Civil Liberties Union

Finch, who is Black, was sitting with a friend on the steps of an abandoned residence
next door to his grandmother and aunt’s house in February 1997.949 A New Orleans
police officer and a DEA agent patrolling the area as part of a joint initiative to
target violent crime in New Orleans arrested the young men for trespassing.950 Finch
was visiting his aunt and grandmother, who lived next door.951 The officers searched
Finch, a self-described heroin addict, and found eight aluminum foil packets in his
sock that tested positive for heroin.952 A dissenting appellate judge concluded that

Finch’s arrest “is more than suspect,” noting that Finch “was not issued a summons
for this questionable municipal violation, because to do so would not allow
arresting officers to empty his pockets.”953
Finch was charged with heroin possession but was never accused of distributing the
drug.954 He was sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a third-strike offender because of
his prior convictions for possession of stolen property worth over $500 in 1993 and
possession with intent to distribute 24 rocks of crack cocaine in 1994.955 Finch had
no violent criminal history, and the court noted that “there is no indication that the
defendant is a violent person.”956 He was 19 years old at the time of his first conviction
and only 23 years old when he was sentenced to die in prison. In dissenting to the
affirmation of Finch’s LWOP sentence, appellate Judge William H. Byrnes declared the
sentence “clearly excessive, and designed to cause needless suffering.”957
Now 39, Finch has been incarcerated for 16 years. In prison he has completed four
levels of substance abuse treatment, as well as anger management, literary, and
Christian ministry programs. He remains close with his mother, aunt, uncle, and
cousins, and says that being separated from family “feel[s] like my soul has been
pierced and assaulted.”958

Judge William H.
Byrnes declared
Finch’s life-with
out-parole sentence
“clearly excessive,
and designed to
cause needless
suffering.”

LOUiSiANA

Donnel Coleman is serving LWOP for
attempted distribution of fake crack
when he was 22 years old.
Coleman says he tried to check into rehab for his drug addiction on the day of his
arrest in 1998, but there were no beds available at the drug treatment centers. He
was arrested later that day as part of an undercover “buy/walk” drug operation in
New Orleans.959 An undercover New Orleans police officer approached Coleman
and another man on a street corner and asked to purchase $10 of crack.960
According to the undercover officer, Coleman verbally negotiated a $20 drug sale
with her, and his acquaintance sold her two small pieces of fake crack.961 Coleman
claims he had nothing to do with the drug sale and was merely standing on the
same street corner as the seller.962 The co-defendant who sold the drugs supported
Coleman’s account and testified that he, not Coleman, sold the drugs.963
Coleman was convicted of attempted distribution of a substance falsely represented
to be a controlled dangerous substance. The crime usually carries a sentence of zero
to two-and-a-half years, but he was sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a third-strike
offender because of his prior convictions for possession of two small bags of cocaine
in 1995 at age 19 and attempted armed robbery with a 2-by-4 board in 1997, an
incident that he describes as a fight, not a robbery. The drug seller received probation.

“

On the day of
my arrest, I tried
to go to a rehab
center, but none
had bed space,
so I left with my
addiction and that
same evening, I
found myself in
jail. To this day, I’m
still here.”

At the time of his arrest, Coleman was 22 years old and had recently become a

A Living Death: Case Studies 137

father; his daughter had been born three weeks earlier. According to Coleman, he
had a serious drug problem, and “wanted desperately to get help” so that he could
be a father to his newborn daughter, to whom he says he was instantly devoted.964
“On the day of my arrest, I tried to go to a rehab center,” he recalls. “The lady I
spoke with tried to contact several places for me, but none had bed space, so I
left with my addiction and that same evening, I found myself in jail. That was
September 22, 1998, and to this day, I’m still here.”965
Now 37, Coleman has been incarcerated for nearly 15 years, during which he says
he has taken every course available to him. He has earned his GED and certificates
in welding, graphic communications, collision repair, construction, and refrigerant
repair. He has completed at least 10 substance abuse programs and several parenting
courses, and he serves as a re-entry mentor for prisoners who are nearing their
release dates. He reports he has an excellent disciplinary record and has achieved
“trustee” status at Louisiana State Penitentiary. He says he remains extremely close
with his parents and 14-year-old daughter, with whom he speaks once a week. He
told the ACLU, “[I] shouldn’t have to die here…I’m mature, responsible, educated,
and fully rehabilitated. I’m sorry for all the wrong I[’ve] done. If given another
chance, I can be productive in society and there to help my family…so I can be the
man/father that I was intended to be.”966
LOUiSiANA

Leon Horne is serving LWOP for
damaging two patrol cars while being
chased by police in New Orleans
when he was 27 years old.

Leon Horne with his wife, Sheila

Horne, and their grandchildren.
�

138 American Civil Liberties Union

In September 1997, Horne struck two police cars as he was fleeing from police, who
were attempting to stop him on suspicion that he was driving a stolen car.967 He was
charged with two counts of aggravated criminal damage to property, and in October
1998 he was convicted as charged. He was initially sentenced to 15 and six years
in prison on each of the respective charges, but he was subsequently sentenced to
LWOP as a habitual offender on the first charge because of his prior convictions for
simple burglary in 1988 at age 18 and theft in 1991 at age 21.968 Horne grew up with
no family and bounced in and out of foster homes. He became addicted to crack,
and he says that he was getting high “all day every day” at the time he committed his
last crime.969 He has been incarcerated for 16 years, during which he has completed
his GED and associate’s degree. He also founded a non-profit organization,
One Community, which he runs with his wife, to provide faith-based classes for
prisoners, assist men released from prison with reintegration and housing, and
provide counseling to runaway teens.970 Horne says of his sentence, “I will never
have the opportunity to make the wrong that I did right. So I feel that I will die in
prison and never know how life really feels.”971

LOUiSiANA

Rufus White is serving LWOP for
simple possession of less than half a
gram of cocaine, mere “crumbs” in
White’s words.972
In March 2001, a Shreveport police officer attempted to pull over White’s car for
having tinted windows, captured him after a short foot chase, and recovered a
handgun on the ground that the officer suspected White had dropped.973 Hours after
White was arrested and booked for gun possession, a baggie of cocaine was found
on the floorboard in the back of the police car that was used to transport him to the
police precinct.974 He was later charged with leaving the baggie in the patrol car, and a
forensic analyst concluded that the DNA found on the bag matched White’s.975
According to court records, during voir dire the prosecutor objected to all Black
potential jurors, and all but one of the jurors was white.976 White was convicted at
trial of cocaine possession and was sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a third-strike
offender for an offense that usually carries a sentence of zero to five years. He was
26 years old. He had prior convictions for attempted manslaughter in 1992 at age 17
and attempted robbery in 1995 at age 20.977 White says that he was addicted to and
strung out on drugs when he committed his crimes.978
“It just seemed like your whole world end,” White recalls of his sentencing. “It hurts
very deep, and you lose everything on the outside.”979 Now 38 years old, White has
been incarcerated for over 12 years, during which he has participated in Narcotics
Anonymous, anger management, and academic programs.
His mother, Eisibe Sneed, told the ACLU, “When they sentenced my child, they
sentenced me too. I’m in Angola too—my heart is there.”980 “It destroyed me,” she
added. “My life was taken too.”981 She says that the 12 years she has been separated
from her son, who is incarcerated a six-hour drive from her Shreveport home, have
been a nightmare. “If my son has done something, let the sentence fit the crime. But
you are going to oversentence my child, it just don’t make no sense,” she said. “They
gave my baby natural life. The crime doesn’t match the time.”982

rufus White with his mother,
eisibe Sneed.

White was
sentenced to
mandatory life
without parole
as a third-strike
offender, for
an offense that
usually carries a
sentence of zero to
five years.

A Living Death: Case Studies 139

FLOriDA

Thomas B. Wade was sentenced
to LWOP for breaking into an
unoccupied car and stealing a gun,
car stereo, and bath mat from inside
it one week before his twenty-first
birthday.
Thomas Wade
�

Wade has been
in prison for 21
years. Illiterate
when he entered
the prison system,
he has since taught
himself how to
read and is now
teaching himself
how to spell.

Wade dropped out of school in the tenth grade but never learned to read. “I was
dumb to a lot of things,” he says.983 Of his life at the time of the crime, Wade says,
“It wasn’t the best, I didn’t have a job, but I take care of my family the best way I
can.”984 In 1992, Wade served 30 months in prison for two counts of grand theft of
a motor vehicle, grand theft of over $300, and burglary of an unoccupied dwelling,
committed when he was 18, and escape and resisting an officer without violence
when he was 19.
On January 9, 1993, when he was 20, Wade’s life “changed forever.”985 According to
court records, at 4:30 a.m., a 1985 Pontiac was reported stolen in Winter Haven,
Florida.986 A police officer discovered a vehicle matching the description in the
Winter Oaks Apartments Complex one hour later. At trial, the officer testified to
observing two individuals, later identified as Wade and his co-defendant, Watson,
peering into the vehicle.987 Because a concrete wall blocked the officer’s view of the
car’s tag number, he made a U-turn, drove past the vehicle, and verified that it was
in fact the stolen car he had been looking for.988 Wade and Watson then drove off in
Wade’s Chrysler, which had been parked next to the reportedly-stolen Pontiac. The
officer had been told that a loaded handgun was in the passenger’s compartment of
the stolen vehicle and, as such, called for back-up.989
Shortly after Wade and Watson drove away, officers signaled for Wade to pull his car
over, and he complied, exiting the vehicle and submitting to a pat-down.990 Upon
searching Wade’s car, officers discovered a bath mat and “car stereo or equalizer”
on the rear floorboard, allegedly belonging to the owner of the stolen vehicle, and
arrested the men.991 Wade maintains these items belonged to him and were not
stolen property.992 The officers also found a revolver on the ground beside the stolen
vehicle.993 In his appeal, Wade argued that he was never in possession of the firearm,
and noted that his fingerprints were not found on the weapon.994
Wade says he did not “know nothing about the law.”995 He went to trial on charges
of armed burglary of an unoccupied conveyance (a car), grand theft of a motor
vehicle, and escape.996 He was sentenced as a habitual offender to life without parole
for the armed burglary charge, 10 years for the theft, and 30 years for escape.997

140 American Civil Liberties Union

Wade recalls of hearing his sentence, “It hurt very, very bad. They take everything in
me that day.”998
Now 41 years old, Wade has been in prison for 21 years.999 Illiterate when he entered
the prison system, he has since taught himself how to read and is now teaching
himself how to spell.1000 He says the separation from his family has been difficult for
him. He told the ACLU, “I missed all of my kids’ child hood. It hurt like hell.”1001 He
tries to remain optimistic, stating, “I know deep in my heart I will make it. I’ll take it
one day at a time.”1002 His stepfather, Maurice Jordan, told the ACLU, “They gave him
life and that don’t make no sense at all because he didn’t kill anybody. He’s been gone
21, 22 years…I feel like he’s served the time he should have served, and more.”1003
LOUiSiANA

Quierza Lewis is serving LWOP for
possession of crack cocaine when he
was 25 years old.
Lewis was arrested with two others during a drug bust in February 2005. Acting on
a tip, Minden police were conducting surveillance of a residence. Police saw Lewis,
his girlfriend, and a friend leave the residence and followed them as they drove
to Lewis’s parents’ house in two cars. There, police searched Lewis’s girlfriend’s
car, in which they found scales and 350 grams of crack cocaine zipped inside her
purse.1004 No drugs or paraphernalia were found on Lewis or in his home.1005 Police
returned to the residence that had been under surveillance, where they found a
plastic bag containing cocaine residue and items prosecutors said could be used
in the manufacturing of crack cocaine (a Pyrex dish, a box of baking soda, and
a whisk).1006 Lewis chose to go to trial to fight the charges against him. His three
co-defendants—including his girlfriend—testified against him in exchange for
dismissal of the charges against them or reduced sentences. Lewis was convicted at
trial of distribution of more than 28 grams but less than 200 grams of cocaine.1007
Lewis was originally sentenced to 20 years in prison, but he was subsequently
sentenced to mandatory LWOP as a third-strike offender because of two prior
convictions for selling $20 worth of cocaine to undercover agents in 1997, when he
was 17 years old, and again in 1998, when he was 19 years old; he was convicted of
these offenses in 1998 and 2000.1008
Now 34, Lewis has been incarcerated for eight years. “Words can’t explain the pain
I endure here daily…It’s like staring death directly in the eyes every day,” he says.1009
Lewis, who dropped out of school after completing the eighth grade, is studying for
his GED and has completed substance abuse, anger management, and Bible study
courses in prison. He calls his family every other day, and says he is deeply pained by
the prospect of never reuniting with them outside prison walls.1010

Quierza Lewis with his mother,
DeLoice Lewis; two sisters; cousin;
and niece.

“

Words can’t
explain the pain I
endure here daily.
It’s like staring
death directly in
the eyes every day.”

A Living Death: Case Studies 141

His mother, DeLoice Lewis, said that she has been so devastated by her son’s
sentence that is has driven her to contemplate suicide. She said, “At one time, I say,
I wish I could just drive into a river. And it would take it away, the hurt that I was
having. The hurt that it was doing to me. I just wanted to drown at one time…I
was really ready to commit suicide. That’s the only thing I could think of, ’cause I
couldn’t help my child.”1011 She says that holidays, family birthdays, and Mother’s
Day are extraordinarily difficult. “Those are days I break. I break. I just have to fall
down and start praying and crying and telling God to give me the strength to make
it through that day,” she said.1012 The stress of her son’s incarceration and sentence
has caused her to lose nearly 100 pounds.
Lewis’s 72-year-old father, Willie, told the ACLU, “It’s been hard. Old man like me,
you know, have to take something like that…I stay awake most nights just thinking,
thinking, thinking…It done took its toll a while.”1013 Willie cries every time he visits
his son, and he sobs when he talks about him. “I go down there and see him. I can’t
hardly stand it, leaving, but I know I have to go,” he said.1014
LOUiSiANA

Alexander surry, a grandfather, is
serving LWOP for possession of a
single crack rock.

Alexander Surry
�

Surry married his high school sweetheart, with whom he has three children.
To support his family, he consistently worked as a professional painter, roofer,
and asphalt paver. Though he had never been a smoker or a drinker, Surry says
he became addicted to crack and gradually progressed from using the drug to
selling it in order to support his own habit, leading to two convictions for cocaine
distribution. On January 9, 2001, when Surry was on parole for his second drug
charge, his parole officer went to his Shreveport home and, through the window,
saw him lying on a sofa.1015 As the officer approached, Surry hid a small white bottle
beneath a sweatshirt.1016 Upon entering, the officer lifted the shirt and retrieved the
bottle, which contained a small crack cocaine rock, an amount Surry characterizes
as “crumbs.”1017
Surry was convicted of cocaine possession. Although the offense ordinarily carries
a maximum sentence of five years, he was adjudicated as a third-strike felony
offender and sentenced to a mandatory term of life in prison without parole in
April 2002 because of his prior convictions for drug distribution in 1993 and
1998.1018 Surry appealed his sentence, arguing that he should benefit from a June
15, 2001, amendment to the habitual offender statute that limited the maximum
sentence in his case to 10 years.1019 The appeal was denied on the grounds that the
amendment, enacted only six months after his offense and before his sentencing,
was not retroactive.1020 In 2009, Surry filed a federal habeas corpus petition alleging
prosecutorial misconduct and a violation of his Fifth Amendment rights when he

142 American Civil Liberties Union

was required to give his fingerprints at the multiple offender hearing. The petition
was denied.1021
“Everything he did was to hurt himself, not others,” his wife, Sarlower Surry, told
the ACLU. “I think that the system could have did something to help [with his drug
use] instead of putting him away for life. I think they should have had a program
that would help rehabilitate him…A life sentence is no way to deal with a drug
addiction at all.”1022 She said it has been difficult raising their three children without
their father, adding, “He always was there as a father to take care of us. He just made
some mistakes. He just made some wrong turns. And the system just like throwed
him away, like it doesn’t matter.”1023
Now 49 years old, Surry has been imprisoned for 13 years and has five
grandchildren. He talks at least twice a week with his children, who were teenagers
when he was incarcerated. His daughter, Cashawna, told the ACLU that her father’s
incarceration has been immensely difficult for her. “It’s like a hole is there in my
heart, in my life,” she said.1024 “I’ve cried many a nights…It was so hard not having
my father around when I had relationship problems or just going through hard
times in life. Just praying and talking to God and just crying, like, ‘God, I need my
father.’”1025 She says that because her father could not walk her down the aisle when
she got married, she chose to be married by a justice of the peace instead of in a
church.

“

Everything he
did was to hurt
himself, not others,”
his wife said. “A life
sentence is no way
to deal with a drug
addiction at all.”

The Louisiana pardon board unanimously approved Surry to complete only
one-third, or 25 years, of his sentence, but according to Surry, the pardon request
has been sitting on the Governor’s desk since 2009. His wife continues to advocate
for his release.
FLOriDA

Walter sergio Gray is serving LWOP
for selling crack cocaine within 1,000
feet of a school zone, even though
the “school building” was no longer
being utilized as a school at the time
of the crime.

Walter Sergio Gray
�

On September 4, 1990, when he was 27 years old, Gray sold three pieces of crack
cocaine to an undercover police investigator for $60.1026 The sale, which Gray said
he participated in because he “felt that was the only way for me to get me some
money,” occurred across from a former school.1027 According to Gray and the
superintendent of the school district, the building had not been used as a school for

A Living Death: Case Studies 143

Gray asked the
court for a chance
to “say last goodbye
and touch their
hand and say I
love you” to his
family. Now, 22
years later, he says,
“To receive a life
sentence without
parole is a death
sentence; family
and friend[s] for
get you every year
go[es] by.”

four or five years.1028 However, Gray’s attorney did not investigate this or address it
during his trial.1029
Gray, who is Black, was convicted of sale of cocaine within 1,000 feet of a school
zone and sentenced to life without parole under Florida’s habitual offender law
in September 1991.1030 He had previously been convicted of unarmed robbery in
1982 at age 18; failure to appear at age 19; conspiracy to sell or purchase cocaine,
possession of cocaine, and sale or purchase of cocaine in 1986, when he was 23; and
sale or purchase of cocaine in August 1990, at age 26.
Upon sentencing Gray to life, Judge Jack Singbush told him, “Mr. Gray, the Court
takes no pleasure in this.”1031 After the sentence was pronounced, Gray asked the court
for an opportunity to see his family, with whom he had not been able to physically
interact since he was incarcerated in county jail for the previous eight to nine months.
Acknowledging that “I’m going to prison for the rest of my life,” Gray asked the court
for a chance to “say last goodbye and touch their hand and say I love you.”1032
Now 49 years old, Gray has been in prison for 22 years.1033 Gray, who had only an
eighth-grade education prior to his incarceration, earned his GED in prison in
1996. He says he has been unable to take other courses, however, because of his
life-without-parole sentence.1034 Gray told the ACLU, “To receive a life sentence
without parole is a death sentence; family and friend[s] forget you every year go[es]
by.”1035 According to Gray, being separated from friends and family makes him feel
“empty, hurt, alone, [and] unloved.”1036 He reports that he has changed and accepts
responsibility for his actions, and if he were to be released, he says, he would stay
out of trouble with the law and give back to the community. “After 22 years it’s hard
to accept,” he said. “I come to realize how I change.”1037
FLOriDA

samuel Morris Gibson Jr. was
sentenced to LWOP in 1990 for an
armed burglary that was committed
in 1989, when he was 23 years old.

Samuel Morris Gibson Jr.
�

144 American Civil Liberties Union

Gibson maintains that he is innocent of the crime, claiming that he was picking up
breakfast for his diabetic aunt when the burglars gave him a ride to the store.1038
According to Gibson, he was homeless and suffered from a drug addiction at the
time. He says he had also been diagnosed with depression and worked as a high
school janitor.1039 Gibson was sentenced to LWOP under Florida’s habitual offender
law because of his prior convictions for two burglaries and two grand thefts that he
committed five months apart at age 17 and an armed robbery that he committed
when he was 19. Now 47 years old, Gibson has been incarcerated for 24 years.
Gibson spends his time attending church, singing in prison programs, and writing
his own music.1040

FLOriDA

Tyrone Taylor is serving LWOP for a
nonviolent drug offense committed
when he was 21 years old. He was
sentenced as a habitual offender on
the basis of a prior crime he committed when he was only 16 years old.
Taylor told the ACLU that he was “never a person to disregard the law” but found
himself “selling drugs as a source of survival.”1041 In September 1983, when he was
16 years old, Taylor snatched a woman’s purse containing less than $100 worth of
property and lacerated the woman’s arm in the commission of the crime.1042 He
pleaded guilty to robbery and aggravated battery, and served two years in a youth
offender camp.1043
When he was 22 years old, Taylor was convicted of possession of cocaine and two
counts of cocaine trafficking in Polk County and Hillsborough County. His juvenile
conviction was used to enhance his sentence, and he was accordingly sentenced
to LWOP under Florida’s habitual offender law for one of the cocaine trafficking
charges, for knowingly possessing, selling, delivering, or manufacturing between 28
and 200 grams of cocaine. At the time of his sentencing, Taylor did not know how to
read or write.1044
Taylor appealed his conviction, arguing that his one prior youthful conviction could
not be used to give him an enhanced sentence as a violent habitual offender.1045
The Second District Court of Appeal of Florida remanded the case for further
consideration, but his sentence was reaffirmed.1046 According to the criminal
punishment code score sheet calculated for sentencing purposes, the recommended
sentence for Taylor was nine to twelve years.1047
In the 24 years since Taylor has been imprisoned, he says all his family and friends
have either stopped visiting him or died.1048 Now 46 years old, he has no one outside
the prison walls to speak with.1049 Taylor said that it is hard “day in and day out
knowing you may die in prison. It can drive you to some crazy thoughts.”1050 One
year ago, while he was asleep in the middle of the night, Taylor reports he was
assaulted by another inmate, causing a serious eye injury.1051 He describes his more
than two decades of incarceration as “crazy,” and said, “I’m still in shock 24 years
later, and my mental level has took a beating.”1052 He tries to study law and pray in
prison, but says he has trouble finding activities to occupy his time, since, he told
the ACLU, prisoners serving life sentences are not eligible for most educational
programs. “So here I sit just waiting to die in prison,” he said.1053

Tyrone Taylor
�

Imprisoned for
24 years, he has
trouble finding
activities to occupy
his time, since
prisoners serving
life sentences are
not eligible for
most educational
programs. “So here
I sit just waiting to
die in prison.”

A Living Death: Case Studies 145

LOUiSiANA

Pettus was initially
sentenced to two
years in prison,
the maximum
sentence for the
crime he was con
victed of, but he
was resentenced to
LWOP under Lou
isiana’s habitual
offender law.

Nathan Pettus was sentenced to
LWOP for the theft of three ed Hardy
belts from a Dillard’s department
store in Metairie, Louisiana, in
January 2009.1054
A police officer with the Jefferson Parish Sheriff ’s Office was working a security
detail at the store and testified at trial that he moved to stand between the exit
doors to the store when he was radioed that a man was observed concealing
three belts beneath his jacket.1055 When Pettus observed the uniformed officer, he
abandoned the belts in the store before exiting into the mall.1056 The officer then
ran after Pettus and Tasered him before arresting him in the adjacent mall area.1057
According to the store’s loss prevention officer, the belts were valued at $301 or
$307 in total, but Pettus claims that their aggregate value was under the $300 felony
threshold.1058 Though Pettus argues that he was guilty of attempted theft at most, he
was convicted at trial of theft of goods valued at over $300.1059 Pettus was initially
sentenced to two years in prison, the maximum sentence for the crime of which he
was convicted, but he was resentenced to LWOP under Louisiana’s habitual offender
law. He was sentenced to LWOP as a fourth-strike offender because of three prior
convictions: possession of cocaine, obstruction of justice, and bank robbery.1060
He was subsequently convicted of simple unarmed robbery in December 2009 for
robbery of a boutique committed in April 2008. Pettus, who is white, is 33 years old.
LOUiSiANA

Although the max
imum sentence for
Caliste’s offense
was 10 years, he
was sentenced
to LWOP as a
fourth-time felony
offender.

146 American Civil Liberties Union

Damon Caliste is serving LWOP for
the theft of several digital cameras
from a Walmart in Slidell, Louisiana,
in November 2008.1061
Cameras were discovered missing when a store manager found several empty
camera packages in the store.1062 Caliste and a co-defendant were arrested when
they returned to the store the following day. Caliste’s fingerprints were lifted from
one camera box, and surveillance footage showed Caliste and his co-defendant each
stealing cameras.1063 Following an inventory check, the store estimated that 12 to
14 cameras, each worth approximately $80 to $150, had been stolen.1064 Caliste was
convicted of theft of goods valued at over $500. Although the maximum sentence
for Caliste’s offense was 10 years, he was sentenced to LWOP as a fourth-time felony
habitual offender based on a 1996 conviction for possession of contraband in prison

for a small amount of marijuana; a 1994 conviction for armed robbery, in which a
co-defendant used a knife while robbing a business while Caliste waited outside the
building; a 1993 conviction for distribution of a single rock of crack cocaine; and
a 1993 conviction for forgery of two checks, each in the amount of $25.75.1065 His
co-defendant sentenced to 40 years as a habitual offender.1066 Caliste, who is Black, is
39 years old.
LOUiSiANA

Michael Nicholas is serving LWOP for
the theft of two used cars in 1996.1067
Nicholas cleaned and detailed cars in New Orleans, and he sold cars on consignment
at an auto shop. He was accused of stealing three used cars. Although he argued that
he was incompetent due to mental illness, the court found him competent to stand
trial. At trial, he was found to have stolen a 1987 Peugeot and a 1993 Isuzu Rodeo,
and also to have driven a used 1989 Lincoln Town Car without authorization
following a test drive.1068 He was convicted of two counts of theft of property worth
$500 or more and one count of unauthorized use of an automobile.1069 Nicholas,
who is Black, says he never saw his court-appointed lawyer before his trial, and
reports his defense witnesses were not subpoenaed.1070 He was initially sentenced
to 10 years on each of the two theft charges and five years on the unauthorized use
charge.1071 The original 10-year sentence on one of the theft charges was vacated,
and he was resentenced to LWOP as a fourth-time felony offender because of three
prior convictions; he pleaded guilty to theft in 1991, forgery in 1984, and possession
of stolen things in 1975.1072 Nicholas had at least six additional felony convictions
dating back to 1969 for avoiding paying telephone bills, theft, possession of stolen
property, forgery, issuing worthless checks, and battery.1073 Now 61, Nicholas has
been incarcerated for over 17 years.

The original
10-year sentence
for theft was
vacated, and he
was resentenced to
LWOP because of
prior convictions
for theft, forgery,
and possession of
stolen things.

LOUiSiANA

Keith A. Barnes is serving LWOP for
shoplifting goods valued at $188.22
from a Walmart in Jefferson Parish,
Louisiana.1074
In May 1999, a security officer detained Barnes in the store parking lot after he was
observed placing several items of merchandise in a checkout bag used for customers’
purchases.1075 A self-described crack addict, Barnes later told the appellate court that
he was on crack at the time he committed the crime.1076 He was convicted of theft
of goods valued over $100 in March 2000. Barnes was initially sentenced to two
years in prison, the maximum sentence for the crime for which he was convicted,

A Living Death: Case Studies 147

but he was resentenced to LWOP as a third-strike felony offender under Louisiana’s
habitual offender law at age 39.1077 Barnes had been convicted of armed robbery as
a teenager in 1980, for which he served 16 years in prison, and theft in 1998.1078 He
never hurt anyone in the commission of his crimes.1079 Now 51 years old, Barnes,
who is Black, has been incarcerated for more than 13 years.
LOUiSiANA

He was convicted
Vincent Cushinello is serving LWOP
of simple criminal
for slashing tires in March 2001.1080
damage to property, At trial, Cushinello was found to have slashed the tires of nine cars in the lot of a
and was sentenced
used car dealer and those of a truck near the used car lot. He was not observed
slashing the tires, but two patrons of a nearby bar testified at trial that they saw
to mandatory life
walking in an adjacent parking lot and putting something in his
without parole as a Cushinello
pocket. A pocket knife was recovered from him following his arrest. He was
convicted of simple criminal damage to property and was sentenced to mandatory
third-strike felony
life without parole as a third-strike felony offender. Without the habitual
offender. His last
offender sentencing enhancement, the maximum sentence for his offense is two
felony had occurred years in prison. Previously, Cushinello had pleaded guilty to simple burglary in
1982, and about five years later pleaded guilty to eight counts of armed robbery and
almost 20 years
two counts of attempted murder, all of which occurred on the same day in 1986, for
earlier.
which he served 12 years in prison. His last felony had occurred almost 20 years
1081

1082

1083

1084

earlier. Cushinello, who is white, is 56.
LOUiSiANA

Noble Elias Bates is serving LWOP
for aggravated criminal damage to
property for hitting a police patrol car
while attempting to flee.
In July 2000, after he was observed shoplifting soap and Alka-Seltzer at a Kroger
grocery store in Bossier City, Louisiana, Bates fled police and damaged a Shreveport
police patrol car in the process.1085 The police patrol car struck a steel light pole,
injuring two police officers, allegedly after Bates’s vehicle struck theirs.1086 A
Shreveport officer fired three shots at Bates’s car to stop him, hitting Bates once
in the left leg.1087 Bates, then 51, got out of his car and ran a short distance before
officers caught him.1088
Bates, a Vietnam War veteran, suffered from mental illness and had previously
been diagnosed with auditory hallucinations, post-traumatic stress disorder,
and paranoid schizophrenia.1089 He reported he was not taking his prescribed

148 American Civil Liberties Union

medication for mental illness at the time of the shoplifting. He argued that during
the commission of his crime he was “in a state of paranoia due to his psychological
illness” and pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity.1090 Bates testified at his trial that
he had sustained several head injuries while growing up and was exposed to Agent
Orange as an infantry soldier in Vietnam.1091 He testified that on the day of the
shoplifting, he thought someone was trying to kill him, he was “running for [his]
life,” and he was experiencing flashbacks to combat. A psychiatrist who evaluated
him concluded that at the time of the crime, “he was psychotic, overly suspicious,
paranoid, and misperceiving his environment.”1092
Bates was convicted of aggravated criminal damage to property and sentenced to
mandatory LWOP on that count as a third-time felony offender; the maximum
sentence for his offense was 15 years without the habitual offender enhancement.1093
He was also convicted of aggravated flight from an officer, for which he was
sentenced to two years in prison.1094 The mandatory LWOP sentence did not take
into account mitigating factors such as his mental illness. Previously, Bates had
been arrested 63 times and had 23 prior convictions for minor nonviolent offenses
dating back to 1974, including misdemeanor and felony theft, and drug and traffic
violations. Bates, who is Black, is 62 years old. During his more than a decade in
prison, Bates has earned an associate’s degree in Christian Ministry from New
Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary.

The maximum
sentence for his
offense was 15
years without the
habitual offender
enhancement. The
mandatory LWOP
sentence did not
take into account
mitigating factors
such as his mental
illness.

FeDerAL SySTeM

Donald Lee Graham was sentenced
to mandatory LWOP for nonviolent
crack cocaine offenses when he was
30 years old.1095
He was arrested in 2006 as part of a Northern Kentucky Drug Strike Force and
Kenton County Police Department investigation, during which a confidential
informant carried out six controlled buys of crack cocaine from Graham and two
companions.1096
After a three-day trial, Graham was convicted of conspiracy to distribute and
possess with intent to distribute more than 50 grams of crack cocaine; crack cocaine
distribution; and aiding and abetting distribution.1097 His co-defendants, including
the drug supplier who was the target of the operation, pleaded guilty and testified
against him in exchange for reduced sentences.1098 This testimony, and that of
corroborating witnesses, was the only evidence of Graham’s involvement in the
crime.1099
The judge used a nonviolent juvenile felony conviction for aggravated drug
trafficking as the necessary third strike to sentence Graham to life without parole.1100

A Living Death: Case Studies 149

In 1995, when he was 17 years old, Graham had pleaded guilty to two counts of
aggravated drug trafficking under Ohio law and served one year in prison.1101
The juvenile conviction and Graham’s only other prior conviction—for cocaine
trafficking at age 19—occurred a decade before he was sentenced to LWOP.1102
Dissenting from the majority’s decision affirming the life sentence on appeal, Judge
Gilbert S. Merritt of the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals objected to the sentence:

“

It feels like
I’m trapped in a
burning fire. It’s
like you’re nothing.
Why should I want
to live? I would
rather [have] been
sentenced to lethal
injection, than
suffer the way I
am.”

150 American Civil Liberties Union

[T]he sentencing of this nonviolent, 30-year-old petty drug trafficker
to life imprisonment by using a juvenile conviction as a necessary
third strike not only violates clear congressional intent…but also
violates sound principles of penological policy based on the Eighth
Amendment values recently outlined by the Supreme Court….
In what seems to me my colleagues’ strained effort to justify the life
sentence in this case based on juvenile conduct, they take account of
neither the well-established canons of statutory construction…nor the
social consequences of what has only recently become conventional
judicial behavior favoring long prison terms for nonviolent drug
offenses.1103
Before his arrest, Graham worked at a cleaning service and delivered newspapers on
the weekends.1104 He has only a sixth-grade education and explains that it is “hard
for me to read and understand some things.”1105
Graham, who is Black and 35 years old, says of his sentence, “[I]t still feels like I’m
trapped in a burning fire. It hurts a lot.”1106 He adds, “It’s like you’re nothing. Why
should I want to live? I would rather [have] been sentenced to lethal injection, than
suffer the way I am. If I did not care for my family I would ask to die, but I must
keep my family together. I don’t want them to suffer any more than they already
are.”1107 He says that he struggles with suicidal feelings because of the hopelessness
of his sentence: “It hurts, fighting myself each day to continue to allow the light of
our Father shine upon me.”1108 Graham told the ACLU he is sorry for letting his
family down and asks for “one more chance at society.”1109

FeDerAL SySTeM

steven speal’s sentence of life
imprisonment without parole
arose from a search following a
traffic stop for allegedly making
an illegal U-turn; police found
methamphetamine, marijuana, and
firearms.1110
After Kansas Highway Patrol officers discovered drugs and firearms in a car
in which Speal was a passenger, he was convicted of conspiracy to distribute a
controlled substance, possession of 267 grams of methamphetamine and 41 pounds
of marijuana with intent to distribute, possession of a firearm during a drug
trafficking crime, and two counts of possession of a firearm by a convicted felon. He
was sentenced to LWOP.1111 He was 25 years old.
Raised in Oklahoma City, Speal is the sole child of parents who separated when
he was an infant. His mother was a drug addict and often used drugs in front of
him. Grappling with a dysfunctional family and a learning disability, Speal says he
struggled in school and constantly felt like an outcast.1112 At an early age, he began
using alcohol and drugs. He says that when he had his first drink at just nine years
of age, “all the pain went away.”1113 He began experimenting with drugs at age 11,
and as he got older he sometimes did drugs with his mother. “When I realized that
other drugs numbed the pain also, I tried to stay high on anything that I could,” he
recalls. “From 11 years old on I just wanted to feel normal, be liked, and to fit in.
At 15, I found out that if I had drugs people really wanted to be around me. They
accepted me and even acted like they really cared about me.”1114

Steven Speal with his mother, Mary
McMillan, and his stepfather.

“

Life without
hope, life without
compassion, life
without a chance,
life without love, life
without peace, life
without ‘you fill in
the blank.’”

When he was 18, Speal was convicted of possession of a controlled dangerous
substance with intent to distribute after police searched his car and found baggies
of marijuana and 26 Xanax pills.1115 Later that year, he pleaded guilty to separate
offenses of auto burglary and unlawful use of a motor vehicle.1116 At age 19, Speal
pleaded guilty to charges of possession of a controlled dangerous substance with
intent to distribute upon the discovery of large baggies of marijuana and a plastic
bag of pills in his vehicle.1117 A few years later, when he was 22, Speal pleaded guilty
to possession of methamphetamine and served four years in prison.1118 Just over a
year after he finished that sentence, he was sentenced to LWOP as a career offender
on the basis of his two prior marijuana convictions.
Speal describes the punishment of life without parole as “life without hope, life
without compassion, life without a chance, life without love, life without peace, life
without ‘you fill in the blank.’”1119 He fears dying in prison, he says, because “my

A Living Death: Case Studies 151

bloodline dies if I die in here…They took away my whole bloodline. I know I made
a mistake, but I didn’t make a mistake that’s worth the rest of my life.”1120
Speal’s mother, Mary McMillan, who is clean and sober now, says her son’s
imprisonment has been unbearable for her. “My God, I want my boy home. It’s
been too long,”1121 she told the ACLU. She says she feels guilty for raising her son
in a house full of drug dealers. “Steven did not have a chance,” she says. “He saw
from a very young age using and selling drugs… His biggest crime was that he was
a junkie and he got hooked worse on stuff worse than I ever did. The only person
he hurt was himself.”1122 According to McMillan, Speal’s imprisonment pains his
entire extended family. “They put us all in jail. It hurts every one of us. Your life in
some areas doesn’t go on,”she told the ACLU.1123 She says Speal’s nieces don’t even
remember seeing their uncle outside of the prison gates, explaining, “They think he
is the sweetest thing…they don’t understand why Uncle Steven can’t come home. It
affects everyone.”1124
Speal continued to struggle with drug and alcohol addiction when he began serving
his life-without-parole sentence. He reports he had difficulty coping with the
numerous killings he witnessed in the first years of his sentence and began taking
heroin in prison. Speal says he finally turned his life around when he completed
intensive drug treatment and Alcoholics Anonymous and Narcotics Anonymous
programs in prison and overcame his addictions. He is now the co-facilitator of
these programs, serves as an inmate companion for prisoners on suicide watch, and
provides pre-release counseling to prisoners who are about to be released. He says,
“I feel I am doing just what I am supposed to at these times, helping others.”1125
Speal has become profoundly religious and preaches to other inmates.1126 He also
works in a prison sewing factory making military shirts.
After 17 years in prison, Speal says he has learned from his mistakes and taken
responsibility for his actions. “I know what I did was wrong but I did not know any
other way at the time, and I just wanted to be loved,” he told the ACLU.1127 “They
gave us a death sentence because we made mistakes when we were kids.”1128
Speal, now 42, exhausted his appeals process long ago, and his commutation
petition was denied in February 2013. He prays for a chance to show society how
he has changed and is eager to demonstrate how he can contribute to society,
saying, “I will never give up the right to be free again when I get out. I understand
life is too short. I have made choices to help as many people as I can in here or out
there. Given the chance to be free, I will make the people that helped me to get my
freedom proud that they took the time and effort.”1129

152 American Civil Liberties Union

FeDerAL SySTeM

Euka Wadlington was sentenced to
LWOP following a failed drug sting
based entirely on the testimony of
co-conspirators.
Wadlington was raised in a housing project on the North Side of Chicago and later
moved to the South Side, where he worked construction, drove a garbage truck, and
ran a carwash. For a couple of years in the mid-1990s, Wadlington managed one of
the first nightclubs catering to the African-American community in Clinton, Iowa,
a majority white town on the Mississippi River. Around 1995, a joint federal and
state task force began investigating a crack cocaine distribution operation in Clinton
headed by another South Side native known as Geo. According to Wadlington,
during most of the time that Geo sold drugs in Clinton, Wadlington was working
five days a week as a garbage man 200 miles away in Chicago. In 1996, Geo and five
associates were convicted of federal drug conspiracy charges. Wadlington believes he
was targeted when Iowa-based federal drug agents were looking for their next drug
case.
Wadlington was arrested in Chicago in 1998, following a failed drug sting in
which a confidential informant attempted to induce him to sell cocaine to an
undercover agent. According to Wadlington, a government informant known as
Flame, an admitted cocaine and meth dealer cooperating with the government to
avoid incarceration, tried to get Wadlington to help him sell drugs. For months
Wadlington refused, and he says he finally agreed to meet with Flame in late 1998
to help him carry out a money-making scam in order to discharge a longstanding
debt (Flame had loaned Wadlington $3,000 in 1994 to help him open a car wash).
The government informant claimed he had arranged to introduce Wadlington to
an undercover agent posing as an Iowa drug dealer, to whom Wadlington was to sell
one kilo of cocaine at the planned meeting. Wadlington was arrested at the meeting
location, but he had no drugs or weapons on his person or in his vehicle and less
than three dollars in his pocket.
At Wadlington’s trial in the Southern District of Iowa, the prosecutor argued that
from 1992 to 1998 Wadlington was the leader of a drug organization selling powder
and crack cocaine in Clinton, Iowa. According to the prosecutor and government
witnesses, Wadlington employed and supervised others who concealed cocaine in
Tide detergent boxes and transported, cooked, and distributed the drugs.1130 The
case was based entirely on the testimony of cooperating witnesses who testified in
exchange for immunity or leniency for their own drug sentences, including one of
Wadlington’s co-defendants who pleaded guilty.1131 Wadlington was not connected
to the crime via any physical evidence; he was never caught with any drugs, either
on his person or in his vehicle, home, or business.1132 No drugs were ever seized

euka Wadlington (center, not in a
cap and gown) with several of his
students who earned GeDs under
his tutelage.

Four witnesses
have come forward
and signed affi
davits supporting
Wadlington’s claims
of innocence and
alleging prosecu
torial misconduct.
One key witness
stated that his false
accusations at
Wadlington’s trial
were coerced by
federal agents who
told him he could
avoid a life sentence
only by implicating
Wadlington.
A Living Death: Case Studies 153

during raids of the nightclub he managed. Police surveillance of Wadlington’s
nightclub never revealed any indication of drug activity. No cell phone, pager
records, or fingerprints connected Wadlington to drug activity, and the prosecutor
offered no evidence of unexplained wealth.
Wadlington was convicted of conspiracy to distribute and possess with intent to
distribute powder and crack cocaine, and attempted distribution of crack cocaine.
All but one of his jurors were white.1133 Although no drug amounts were specified in
the indictment or decided by the jury, Wadlington was held accountable for more
than 18 kilograms of cocaine.1134

Since he first
helped his cellmate
become literate
and obtain his
GED over 10 years
ago, Wadlington
has helped hun
dreds of incarcer
ated men to obtain
their GEDs

Because his sentence was enhanced based on two prior drug felonies, Wadlington
was sentenced to two concurrent LWOP sentences in 1999, when he was 33 years
old. He had two prior state drug convictions: a 1988 arrest for 14 grams of cocaine
found in a friend’s underwear after they were pulled over for a traffic violation, and
a 1991 arrest for possession with intent to deliver cocaine when he was 25; he pled
guilty to both charges in 1991. Wadlington says, “When I heard the sentence, I went
into a kind of shock. I couldn’t remember a lot of things that truly mattered in my
life. For at least a month, I couldn’t even remember my mother’s telephone number,
which had not been changed for 30 years.”1135
Since the trial, four witnesses have come forward and signed affidavits supporting
Wadlington’s claims of innocence and alleging prosecutorial misconduct.1136 One
of the key witnesses who testified against Wadlington submitted an affidavit stating
that his false accusations at Wadlington’s trial were coerced by federal agents who
told him he could avoid a life sentence only by implicating Wadlington.1137 Two
members of Geo’s drug-dealing conspiracy gave sworn statements that Wadlington
was not a member of their conspiracy, much less the leader. The appellate court
also found that circumstances indicated the prosecutor improperly used grand jury
subpoenas to secure interviews with two individuals who eventually testified against
Wadlington—falsely, according to Wadlington.1138 Wadlington has exhausted all of
his appeals, which were unsuccessful despite the witness recantations.
Wadlington is 47 years old and has served 14 and a half years in prison. He says
he became deeply depressed following his sentencing but found new purpose by
teaching fellow prisoners.1139 Since he first helped his cellmate become literate
and obtain his GED more than 10 years ago, Wadlington has helped hundreds of
incarcerated men obtain their GEDs, taught literacy classes for illiterate inmates,
worked with his prison’s warden to create re-entry programs for soon-to-be
released prisoners that will help them to adjust to daily life outside of prison, and
started partnerships with local universities to allow students to play chess with
inmates and create positive relationships. He also teaches grammar, essay writing,
and creative writing courses, and helps enroll other prisoners in vocational classes
and college correspondence courses. At the same time, he says he has enrolled in
every class available to him that does not interfere with the classes he teaches.

154 American Civil Liberties Union

If he were released from prison, Wadlington wants to return to his South Side
neighborhood, Englewood, to run educational programs for youth and adults. He
says, “I dream of going to schools and speaking with children about the realities of
actions and consequences.”1140 He adds, “I hope that I could somehow be forgiven
for my actions and help rebuild what I contributed to destroying…I want to
return home with newfound wisdom, energy, and a unique perspective to promote
nonviolence and create a safer place for children and young adults alike.”1141
At the time of his incarceration, Wadlington was engaged to be married to the
mother of three of his children. He maintains a relationship with his five children,
but he says it pains him to have missed raising them. Wadlington’s mother, Gloria
Driver, suffers from Alzheimer’s and her condition is steadily deteriorating. While
she still remembers and loves her son, she is becoming increasingly confused by
his absence. At her son’s sentencing, she told the judge of her children, “When they
are wrong, I’ll admit that they are wrong. When they are right, however, I’ll go to
my death fighting for them. I’m asking for the one thing every mother wants for a
child—a fair chance at life.”

A Living Death: Case Studies 155

LIfE WITHOUT PAROLE fOR MARIJUANA
�
LOUiSiANA

When the under
cover agent said
that he was looking
for weed, Green
agreed to take him
where he could buy
some. Green found
a young man to sell
the agent a bag of
marijuana worth
$20. The agent
paid Green $10 for
his assistance.

Dale Wayne Green is serving LWOP
for his role as middleman in a sale
of $20 worth of marijuana to an
undercover deputy.
In September 1999, an undercover agent for the narcotics division of the Caddo
Parish Sheriff ’s Office was driving around near Keithville, Louisiana, when he
saw Green on the side of the road and stopped.1142 Green reportedly asked the
undercover agent if he was looking for anything, and when the agent responded that
he was looking for weed, Green agreed to take him where he could buy some.1143
Green eventually found a young man to sell the agent a bag of marijuana worth $20.
The agent paid Green $10 for his assistance. The agent’s vehicle was equipped with
surveillance equipment, but the sound was not functioning and the surveillance
video tape was of poor quality; the video does not capture the purchase of the
marijuana.1144 A day later, the agent identified Green, who was arrested in November
1999 after the undercover operation was completed.
Green was convicted of distribution of marijuana and sentenced to mandatory life
without parole as a third-strike offender under Louisiana’s multiple offender law. He
had two prior convictions; he had pleaded guilty to attempted possession of cocaine
in 1990 and to simple robbery in 1991.1145 According to Green, when he pleaded
guilty to these prior charges, he was never informed of the nature or elements of the
crimes, or that these convictions could be used to enhance his sentence under the
multiple offender law if he committed subsequent offenses.1146 Green had no lawyer
to represent him on appeal, and he unsuccessfully tried to raise the claims that he
had been entrapped and that there was insufficient evidence to convict him. Green,
who is Black, is 54 years old and has served 13 years in prison.
LOUiSiANA

Terrance L. Mosley was sentenced
to LWOP for possession of marijuana
with intent to distribute.

Terrance Mosley

156 American Civil Liberties Union

In August 2008, he was seated in the passenger seat of a parked car when a police
officer searched the car, allegedly because it had duplicate license plates and was
parked on the street, facing traffic.1147 The officer found two bags of marijuana in
the car that totaled 867 grams, or about two pounds.1148 Mosley says he was trying

to get a ride and did not know the marijuana was in the car, which he adamantly
insists did not belong to him. The driver of the car received probation in exchange
for pleading guilty and did not serve any time. Mosley was first sentenced to
25 years in prison, but was subsequently sentenced to life without parole as a
third-strike offender. To adjudicate Mosley a habitual offender, the judge used a
12-year-old conviction for a nonviolent drug crime he had committed as a juvenile.
Mosley, a former special education student who has an eighth-grade education, had
only two priors: possession of cocaine with intent to distribute when he was age 17
and distribution of cocaine when he was 18.1149 Mosley has served five years of his
LWOP sentence and says that he feels “dead” and “lost in the system.”1150 Calling his
sentence “pure hell,” he says that it is “cruel and unusual punishment to think you
will never be free before you die.”1151 His fiancée continues to support him and visits
him regularly. The father of five children, 36-year-old Mosley says, “I’d like to have
my freedom back and be the best in society possible and father for my children.”1152
LOUiSiANA

fate Vincent Winslow was homeless
when he acted as a go-between
in the sale of two small bags of
marijuana, worth $10 in total, to an
undercover police officer.1153
During an undercover investigation in Shreveport in September 2008, an
undercover officer approached a white man named Mr. Perdue and Winslow, who
is Black. The officer asked Winslow for two dime bags of marijuana worth $10
each and promised a $5 commission for Winslow, who says he accepted the offer
in order to earn some money to get something to eat.1154 Winslow says he bought
two $5 bags of marijuana from Perdue and sold them to the undercover officer as
dime bags worth $10 each.1155 The undercover officer testified that he witnessed a
hand-to-hand transaction between Winslow and Perdue and that he paid Winslow
with a $20 bill and a $5 bill.1156 When officers arrested Winslow, he only had the $5
bill on him. Officers found the marked $20 bill on Perdue (the white supplier), but
did not arrest him.1157
According to Winslow, at trial, the 10 white jurors found him guilty of marijuana
distribution, while the two black jurors found him not guilty (the state of Louisiana
does not require a unanimous jury to convict and instead allows convictions by 10
out of 12 jurors). He was sentenced to mandatory life without parole as a fourthstrike offender. His prior convictions were for a simple burglary committed in 1984,
when he was 17; simple burglary in 1994, when he was 27 (he was accused and
convicted of opening an unlocked car door and rummaging inside without taking
anything);1158 and possession of cocaine in 2000, when he was 37 (an undercover
officer tried to sell him cocaine, which he says he did not purchase).

The officer asked
Winslow for two
dime bags of
marijuana worth
$10 each and
promised a $5
commission for
Winslow, who is
Black. Officers
found the marked
$20 bill used to buy
the marijuana on
the white supplier,
but did not arrest
him.

A Living Death: Case Studies 157

Winslow is now 46 years old. He cannot afford an attorney and has filed his
unsuccessful post-conviction appeals, written in pencil, himself. His mother died
recently, and he has no friends or family outside prison with whom he is in contact.
He spends time in the law library daily, “try[ing] to learn how to get out” and prays
“every day all day…just living day by day waiting to die in prison.”1159
LOUiSiANA

Travis Bourda is serving LWOP
for possession of 130 grams of
marijuana with intent to distribute.
The judge said,
“I believe a life
sentence under
the circumstances
would be an
unconstitutional
sentence consider
ing the charge was
possession with
intent to distribute
marijuana, and
that the amount of
marijuana involved
was not significant.”

158 American Civil Liberties Union

Although no marijuana was found in his possession, the 29-year-old oil rigger
was convicted at trial in October 2009. Bourda says he was represented by
court-appointed counsel who filed no motions, failed to investigate, and made
no objections at trial. The trial judge initially sentenced Bourda to eight years as a
habitual offender because of his prior convictions for carnal knowledge of a juvenile
a decade earlier when he was 19, and distribution of marijuana. After the prosecutor
charged him as a third-strike habitual offender, the judge resentenced Bourda to 14
years and stated on the record that the life sentence sought by the prosecutor would
be unconstitutionally excessive:
I believe a life sentence under the circumstances in these cases, a drug
case, a carnal knowledge case, and another drug case would be an
unconstitutional sentence…. I believe that fourteen years is more than
enough considering the underlying charge was possession with intent
to distribute marijuana, and that the amount of marijuana involved
was not significant.1160
The prosecutor appealed the 14-year-sentence as illegally lenient, and the appellate
court agreed and sentenced Bourda to life without parole.1161
Bourda, who calls himself “the most miserable person there is,” is a diagnosed
schizophrenic who says he has received intermittent mental health care since he was
12.1162 He talks with his mother and sister twice a week and has taken educational,
religious, substance abuse, welding, and anger management classes in prison. Of his
sentence, Bourda says, “Life without parole means you never going home, you never
have a chance to show society you have truly change[d] and can be a productive
member of society.”1163 He adds, “It is a sense of hopelessness. Every day you wonder
if you are ever going to make it home to your family and children.”1164

LOUiSiANA

Anthony Kelly was sentenced to
LWOP for possession of 32 grams of
marijuana with intent to distribute in
1999, at age 25.
After a confidential informant made a controlled purchase of $20 worth of
marijuana from Gwen, a Kelly family neighbor, Kenner Police Department officers
used a battering ram to forcibly enter and search her house, which was located
across the street from the apartment where Kelly’s mother and brother lived.1165
At Gwen’s house, police found a clear plastic bag containing 21 small nickel bags
of marijuana in the toilet, as well as three partially smoked hand-rolled marijuana
cigarettes in an ashtray.1166 An additional 21 small bags of marijuana and a bag of
loose marijuana were found in Gwen’s purse.1167 According to Kelly, at the time
of the police search, he and his brother were at Gwen’s house, helping bring in
groceries after driving her to the grocery store.
Police arrested Gwen, her son, Kelly, and his two brothers. At trial, the lead detective
claimed that she found Kelly and the neighbor’s son trying to flush the marijuana
baggies down the toilet.1168 Kelly insists this is untrue, and both Gwen and her son
testified that the detective found the marijuana after everyone had been handcuffed
and brought to the living room. Gwen testified that the marijuana was hers, that
she packaged the marijuana herself with no help from Kelly, and that Kelly did not
know she was selling marijuana.1169 Kelly was convicted, despite this testimony, by
10 out of 12 jurors.1170 The lead police detective, a primary witness against Kelly,
was later convicted of evidence tampering and malfeasance in office, and she was
accused of taking drugs from the evidence room for her own use.
Kelly was originally sentenced to 15 years but was resentenced to a mandatory
LWOP sentence as a third-strike felony offender based on two prior convictions, one
for possession of cocaine with intent to distribute in 1995, when he was 21, and the
other for simple possession of cocaine in 1993, when he was 19.1171 Kelly had pleaded
guilty to both charges and says he was never told that these convictions could be
used to enhance a future felony sentence.1172 He says that his sentence “feels like being
buried alive.”1173 “Do I deserve to spend the rest of my life behind bars because I was
in possession of 21 five-dollar bags of marijuana?” he asks.1174 “This is my life story, I
just want someone to hear a changed man cry.”1175

Anthony kelly with his mother.
�

“

Do I deserve
to spend the rest
of my life behind
bars because I was
in possession of 21
five-dollar bags of
marijuana?”

Kelly, now 39, has served 13 years in prison. He says of prison, “It seems like it would
get easier, but instead it gets harder every day.”1176 Kelly, who completed the ninth grade
prior to his incarceration but was a special education student at a fifth-grade level, is
currently studying for his GED. He has taken faith-based spiritual classes and courses in
drug addiction and recovery and says that he has found God while in prison.

A Living Death: Case Studies 159

When Kelly was arrested, his girlfriend was pregnant with his first child. His
daughter is now 12 years old, and he says it is difficult being away from her. “She is
my world,” he says. “I always sit and think about my daughter at night and wonder
how did I fall short at providing for her.”1177 His father and grandmother have died
since he has been incarcerated, and his 73-year-old mother, with whom he is close,
has cancer.
OkLAHOMA

William Dufries is serving LWOP for
driving through Oklahoma with 67
pounds of marijuana in his rv.

William Dufries
�

“

My thinking was
that no jury in their
right mind would
give a life-with
out-parole sentence
for a nonviolent
marijuana offense.”
However, when the
jurors convicted
Dufries, they were
unaware that the
mandatory sentence
in his case was life
without parole.

From Atlanta, Georgia, Dufries was driving his RV through Oklahoma in February
2003 when an Oklahoma Highway Patrol trooper stopped him because he was
driving eight miles over the speed limit and had a broken taillight.1178 Marijuana
was found in an ensuing search of his RV; according to court records, 67 pounds
of marijuana were found. Dufries was convicted at trial of trafficking more than
25 pounds of marijuana. Dufries says that he became involved in transporting
marijuana in order to pay his medical bills after he was diagnosed with lung cancer
while uninsured. Dufries explains that it was “a bad decision to try to make some
money to afford healthcare.”1179
Dufries was sentenced to a mandatory LWOP sentence under Oklahoma’s habitual
offender statute because of two prior convictions; in 1988, he pleaded guilty to
conspiracy to distribute cocaine, and in 1996, he pleaded guilty to possession of
marijuana with intent to distribute.1180 According to Dufries, he rejected a plea deal
of 40 years’ imprisonment because his public defender misinformed him that he
would be eligible for parole after serving 36.4 years of the sentence, when in fact
he would have been eligible for parole after only 13.3 years.1181 Dufries says that
his public defender also never explained that a life-without-parole sentence was a
possibility when he decided to go to trial. He explains, “My thinking was that no
jury in their right mind would give a life-without-parole sentence for a nonviolent
marijuana offense.”1182 However, when the jurors convicted Dufries, they were
unaware that the statutory minimum sentence in his case was life without parole.
Dufries calls his sentence a “walking death sentence.” Referring to his understanding
of James Holmes’s sentence for his mass shooting of moviegoers in Aurora,
Colorado, Dufries told the ACLU, “It kills me that the kid who killed all those
people in the movie theater is getting the same sentence I did. It doesn’t add up.”1183
He adds, “Never going home for a nonviolent crime is just the worst. If I had killed
someone or been a child predator, I could understand, but I just don’t—it is cruel,
harsh and so wrong.”1184
Dufries has served 10 years in prison and is now 55. Dufries has completed the Faith

160 American Civil Liberties Union

and Character Community Program, an intensive year-long character development
program with a faith element, and he says that it has been extremely difficult
to be surrounded by the violence he has witnessed in prison. Since he has been
incarcerated, both of his parents have died, and his sister has fallen ill with cancer.1185
OkLAHOMA

Leland Dodd is serving LWOP for
trying to buy 50 pounds of marijuana
from an undercover officer.
Dodd believes he is the first prisoner to be sentenced to mandatory LWOP for a
nonviolent drug crime under Oklahoma’s habitual offender law. He was sentenced
to LWOP in 1991 for, as he puts it, “talking about buying some marijuana.”1186
Dodd is the father of three children, and prior to his incarceration he worked as a
trim carpenter. He tried to buy 50 pounds of marijuana from an undercover police
officer posing as a seller, and he was arrested before the sale was concluded. He was
convicted in February 1991 of conspiracy to traffic in marijuana and possession of
marijuana with intent to distribute. He was sentenced to a mandatory life-without
parole sentence because of his four prior drug felonies dating back to 1978, which
included convictions for possession of marijuana with intent to distribute and
possession of an unlicensed firearm he made from a kit he bought at a gun show.1187
Under the sentencing guidelines, based on his prior offenses, his sentence would
have been 13.5 years.
Now 59, Dodd has served 22 years of his sentence. Since his incarceration, he has
divorced from his wife of 17 years. He told the ACLU, “I don’t see the point, I mean
I don’t even smoke weed anymore. What’s the threat here? When I was on the street,
I went fishing and I smoked joints…I wasn’t hurting anyone.”1188
LOUiSiANA

in February 2011, 35 year-old Cornell
Hood II was sentenced to die in
prison for attempting to possess
marijuana with intent to distribute.1189

Leland Dodd
�

“

I don’t see the
point, I mean I
don’t even smoke
weed anymore.
What’s the threat
here? When I was
on the street, I
went fishing and
I smoked joints.
I wasn’t hurting
anyone.”

Prosecutors charged that two probation officers performing a warrantless “residence
check” found less than two pounds of marijuana in the house Cornell shared with
his mother and young son near Slidell, in the St. Tammany Parish of Louisiana.1190
Hood’s trial lasted only one day. Although the conviction would ordinarily carry
a sentence of no more than 15 years, Hood was sentenced to life without parole
under Louisiana’s habitual offender law because he had two prior convictions for

A Living Death: Case Studies 161

possession of marijuana with intent to sell and one conviction for distribution of
marijuana.1191 Hood, who is Black, had never before served time in prison, as he
had received a five-year suspended sentence and five years’ probation for each of
his prior convictions; he had been convicted of possession of marijuana with intent
to distribute and distribution of marijuana on December 18, 2009, and he had
pleaded guilty to possession of marijuana with intent to distribute five years earlier
in February 2005. Hood’s sentence was later vacated after the state agreed to strike
his two December 2009 predicate convictions, and he was resentenced to 25 years in
prison.
FeDerAL SySTeM

Paul Free with his mother, who died
in December 2012.

Free was sentenced
to a mandatory
minimum sentence
of life without pa
role on account of
two prior 20-year
old marijuana
convictions.

Paul E. free was arrested in 1994
for participating in a large marijuana
conspiracy operated by another man
who received a reduced sentence
of only two-and-a-half years in
exchange for testifying against 31
people, including Free.
Free was accused of conspiring with people he says he had never heard of, and also
of transporting Mexican marijuana shipments from an Arizona park, though he
says he had never set foot in Arizona during the previous 18 years. Two months after
his arrest, Free graduated with a degree in biology from San Diego State University,
and he continues to lament the lost job opportunities that were available to him at
the time. According to Free, at the time of his arrest he was operating a language
school under contract with the Catholic Church, and he was closing a lucrative deal
with the Chinese government to sell them used steel and railroad rails.
After a trial during which Free recalls the judge fell asleep five times, Free was
convicted of conspiracy to distribute and to possess with intent to distribute 1,756
kilograms of marijuana, in large part on the basis of cooperating co-conspirators
who testified against him in exchange for reduced sentences.1192 Free was held
accountable for repeatedly transporting hundreds of pounds of marijuana to and
from California.1193 In 1995, Free was sentenced to a mandatory minimum sentence
of LWOP on account of two prior 20-year-old marijuana convictions. Free had
pleaded guilty in 1974 to possession with intent to distribute three pounds of
marijuana, and in 1975 to conspiracy to distribute marijuana; the same marijuana
led to both convictions. He says his attorney never told him he was facing a
mandatory life term.
Now 63 years old, Free has been incarcerated for 18 years. He writes of his life prior
to arrest, “I had a wonderful woman, 26 years old, who agreed to marry me and

162 American Civil Liberties Union

start a family. Now, 18 years later, I have no children nor grandchildren.”1194 He says
it has been particularly difficult for him to be separated from family and friends. His
mother died last December, and he says, “She cried many times when I spoke with
her, saying, ‘I wish I could see you once before I die.’”1195 Though they spoke on the
phone at least two times a week, they had not seen each other in seven years due to
her poor health and the geographic distance between them.
Free has taken many courses since entering the prison system, including classes in
writing, American history, world history, legal research, electronics, and computers.
He has taught GED classes and believes he had the highest percentage of successful
graduates in the prison system. He says he derives special satisfaction from teaching
older inmates to read. Free spends every day in the law library studying law and
assists other inmates with their appeals. He reports he has succeeded in securing
more than 100 years off the sentences of a few dozen prisoners, but he has failed to
obtain any sentence reduction in his own case. He says, “I would tap dance out of
here in a pink tutu and high heels if they would release me.”1196
FeDerAL SySTeM

John Knock, 66, is a first-time
offender serving two LWOP
sentences for a large marijuana
conspiracy.
In the early- and mid-1980s, Knock worked with others to import hashish into
Canada and marijuana into the United States. He says he withdrew from the
organization in 1988 because he was concerned about U.S. drug enforcement
activities and wanted to focus on his marriage. According to Knock, in 1993 one
of his former associates attracted the attention of DEA agents, who constructed
a massive marijuana conspiracy case through a reverse sting operation using
a confidential informant and undercover agents. No marijuana was seized by
the government, and the case was largely based on testimony from multiple
co-conspirators who cooperated in exchange for reduced sentences. Knock was a
fugitive until he was arrested in France in 1996 and later extradited to the United
States. He was charged with operating, with co-conspirators, a drug organization
that imported and distributed 790,000 pounds of marijuana and hashish from 1984
to 1993.1197 Prosecutors characterized Knock as one of the world’s biggest smugglers
of hashish and marijuana. At trial, he was convicted of conspiracy to import and
possess with intent to distribute large quantities of marijuana, conspiracy to commit
money laundering, and criminal forfeiture. Although Knock had no criminal
record, he was sentenced to two life terms plus 20 years for money laundering.

John knock
�

“

When a person
goes to prison, the
entire family pays
the price. All do
time of some sort.”

Knock says, “I have been separated from my family for 17 years. I have watched our

A Living Death: Case Studies 163

son grow from three into a young man of 22 through telephone calls and prison
visiting rooms. My life partner since 1974 is now my ex-wife…. When a person goes
to prison, the entire family pays the price. All do time of some sort.”1198 Knock’s
ex-wife, son, two sisters, and brother all visit him regularly. Since 2003, he has
mentored inmates, helping them adjust to incarceration and counseling them on
how to use their time productively in prison. Known in prison as “the professor,”
Knock also teaches and develops adult continuing education and construction
classes for other prisoners.
FeDerAL SySTeM

Larry Ronald Duke, 66, has served
24 years of his two life-withoutparole sentences for a large
marijuana conspiracy.

Larry Duke with his daughter and
grandson.

A carpenter and
inventor who
continues to work
on engineering
problems in pris
on, Duke obtained
a federal patent for
a clean water-de
livery system while
serving his life
sentence.

164 American Civil Liberties Union

Duke was convicted of conspiring to possess with the intent to distribute in excess
of 1,000 kilograms of marijuana and attempted possession with the intent to
distribute in excess of 1,000 kilograms of marijuana. In late 1989, Duke attempted
to purchase, with co-conspirators, a large quantity of marijuana from a government
informant who had a prior marijuana arrest.1199 Undercover officers set up the
sale and arrested Duke and his co-conspirators immediately after delivering 4,800
pounds of marijuana to them.1200
Duke is a decorated Vietnam War combat veteran who served two tours of duty in
Vietnam with the Delta Company 1st Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment. He says he
has been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder due to his military service
in Vietnam. Duke told the ACLU, “[W]hile I was there, I often thought I would
probably die in a firefight in Viet Nam, and then later, I thought maybe I’d catch a
streamer while sky-diving and crash and burn. Or perhaps, lose control of a car at a
very high rate of speed, but never in my wildest dreams have I ever imagined I’d die
in prison.”1201
A carpenter and inventor who continues to work on engineering problems in
prison, Duke obtained a federal patent for a clean water-delivery system while
serving his life sentence. He has a wife, two children, two grandsons, and a large
extended family who want him home. Incarcerated since 1989, Duke says that he
fervently wishes that Congress will “opt to give some degree of hope of our having
one more shot of Tequila, and one more slow dance with Sheila before we go.”1202

FeDerAL SySTeM

William Dekle, 63, has served 22
years of his two mandatory terms of
life without parole for conspiracy to
import and possess large quantities
of marijuana.
Born in Gainesville, Florida, Dekle grew up on a farm in New River and attended
Lake City Community College. He also served in the Marines, from which he was
honorably discharged. Dekle was an FAA-licensed pilot and flew planeloads of
marijuana into the United States. He was convicted in 1981 and 1983 of marijuana
smuggling. He skipped parole in 1987 and was finally convicted in 1990, at age 40,
of conspiracy to import and possess more than 1,000 kilos of marijuana, for which
he was sentenced to two mandatory sentences of life without parole despite the trial
judge’s characterization of the sentence as draconian.
Dekle told the ACLU that his sentence is “like being dead, but without the peace
that comes with death.”1203 He has served the majority of his sentence in highsecurity federal prisons, where he says he witnesses assaults as part of daily life and
even homicides are not uncommon. He has taken more than 30 educational and
vocational courses during his more than two decades in prison, and he counsels
other prisoners. He suffers from a chronic knee injury and has a staggering gait. His
wife, two daughters, and grandchildren know him as “Papa Billy” and are eager to
support him if he were to be released from prison.

William Dekle
�

“

How much
more do they want?
Is my death here
the only thing that
will satisfy society?”

He says, “Since I’ve gone to prison, my children have graduated from high school.
They have graduated from college. My children have had children of their own. My
mother has passed away, my father has passed away. There are correctional officers
and inmates here that were not born when I started this sentence. How much more
do they want? Is my death here the only thing that will satisfy society?”1204
FeDerAL SySTeM

Charles frederick “fred” Cundiff,
67, is serving LWOP for importing
marijuana.
Prior to his incarceration, Cundiff worked at a plant nursery, in construction, as a
mortgage solicitor, and as a stereo store manager. He was sentenced to life without
parole for conspiracy to import and distribute more than 1,000 kilos of marijuana
and has been incarcerated since 1991.1205 According to Cundiff, at sentencing, the

Charles Frederick Cundiff

A Living Death: Case Studies 165

trial judge stated that he would sentence Cundiff to 15 to 20 years, but if he did so,
such a sentence would be reversed on appeal. Cundiff has served 22 years in prison
and worked steadily for 12 years of his imprisonment, but he had to stop working
due to his declining health. Now, he is seriously ill and requires a walker. He suffers
from skin cancer, a dropped foot and shrunken leg due to severe arthritis and
spinal surgery, disintegration of orbital bone due to chronic infection, and vision
problems. He has three children, nine grandchildren, and six great-grandchildren.
He is visited regularly by two friends from his youth. Of prison, Cundiff says, “If I
should die and go to hell, it could be no worse.”1206
FeDerAL SySTeM

Craig Cesal, 54, is a first-time felony
offender serving LWOP for conspiracy
to possess with intent to distribute
marijuana.
His only prior conviction was a misdemeanor for carrying a bottle of beer into a
Bennigan’s bar when he was a college student in 1981, for which he paid a $150 fine.
Craig Cesal with his daughter, Lauren,
who was 14 years old when her father
was incarcerated 11 years ago.

“

I was never
accused of
buying, selling,
possessing, or using
marijuana—and I
didn’t.”

For more than 23 years, Cesal owned and operated a towing and truck repair
business that provided services to police departments and sheriffs, car and
truck rental companies, and trucking companies. His company retrieved trucks
throughout the Midwest. Cesal’s clients also included a trucking company whose
drivers trafficked marijuana.
According to Cesal, his Chicagoland, Illinois, company retrieved and repaired
trucks operated by the Florida-based Sun Hill Trucking Company, whose drivers
transported and distributed marijuana in addition to carrying the usual freight.
Cesal explains that over the span of many years, drivers employed by Sun Hill would
drop off semi-trailers at his shop for needed repairs after they were torn apart from
smuggling contraband. Then, his company would return the truck to the rental
company; sometimes the drivers would pay his company to retrieve the truck or
trailer before repairing and returning it. For instance, on one occasion, his company
retrieved a semi leased by Sun Hill that had been impounded at the United StatesMexico border, secured the truck’s release from DEA custody, made repairs to
panels DEA agents ripped from the trailer in order to extract marijuana encased in
its roof and walls, and returned the trailer to the leasing company. Cesal says that at
no time did he think he was breaking the law.1207
Cesal was arrested in 2002 when he traveled to Georgia to retrieve a rented semi
discarded at a recycling center by Sun Hill workers who had transported, offloaded,
and departed with 2,667 pounds of marijuana from Mexico. Cesal was accused of
conspiring with more than 20 co-conspirators, including the Sun Hill employees.

166 American Civil Liberties Union

Those who provided, received, bought, and sold the marijuana were arrested and
prosecuted in Texas, Florida, North Carolina, and elsewhere. “I was never accused of
buying, selling, possessing, or using marijuana—and I didn’t,” Cesal says.1208 “I never
had a stake in the success of any marijuana venture—my repairs were required
whether or not the driver was busted.”1209
On the advice of his attorney, whom he says advised him he would get a sentence
of seven years, Cesal pleaded guilty. He says he subsequently learned that under the
terms of the plea agreement, he would have to testify in any grand jury, deposition,
or trial requested by prosecutors. Cesal recalls prosecutors wanted him to testify
against a number of people he did not know and two people he believed were
innocent of the charges against them.1210 According to Cesal, he was told that
he would receive a life sentence if he refused to provide the expected testimony
and that he could reduce the life sentence only through a series of incremental
reductions by providing substantial assistance in the prosecution of others.1211
When he discovered the terms were not what he expected, Cesal recalls he
announced he wanted to withdraw the plea agreement. The judge denied
withdrawal.1212 Because Cesal breached the plea agreement by refusing to testify
falsely against others, he was sentenced to a mandatory LWOP sentence under the
federal sentencing guidelines for his first felony conviction. He says, “I voted my
conscience and breached the plea agreement. I do not believe my sentence should
have been inextricably intertwined with my ability or inability to provide substantial
assistance in the prosecution of others.”1213
Because Cesal’s plea agreement included a waiver of any appeal of his sentence,
Cesal has been unable to challenge his sentence.1214 All of Cesal’s eight co-defendants
pleaded guilty in exchange for sentences ranging from 50 to 130 months. He says,
“In my case, those who did traffic marijuana received little or no prison sentences
and resumed their activities. They patronize a different repair station now.”1215

“

In my case,
those who did
traffic marijuana
received little or no
prison sentences
and resumed their
activities. They pa
tronize a different
repair station now.”

Cesal was 42 years old when he was arrested. He was married with two children,
had held the same job for over 20 years, and had owned his home since 1983.
Now 54, he has been incarcerated for 11 years. While in prison, he has earned his
paralegal certificate through a correspondence course and works tirelessly as a
jailhouse lawyer assisting other prisoners with their cases.1216 He speaks weekly with
his children, Lauren and Curtis, who were 14 and 10 years old, respectively, when
he was incarcerated. Cesal is devastated that he has to “forever endure [his] life in
prison,” and says, “I hope to die, sooner rather than later.”1217

A Living Death: Case Studies 167

LIfE WITHOUT PAROLE DUE
TO CRACK/POWDER COCAINE
sENTENCING DIsPARITY
As part of the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986, Congress ignored
empirical evidence and created a 100-to-1 disparity between
the amounts of crack and powder cocaine required to trigger
certain mandatory minimum sentences, even though they are
simply two forms of the same drug, and the only difference
between them is that crack includes the addition of baking
soda and heat. As a result of Congress’s perceived differences
in the harmfulness and dangerousness between crack and
powder cocaine, sentences for offenses involving crack cocaine
were made much longer than those for offenses involving
the same amount of powder cocaine. Thus, for example,
someone convicted of an offense involving just five grams of
crack cocaine (the weight of two pennies) was subject to the
same five-year mandatory minimum federal prison sentence
as someone convicted of an offense involving 500 grams of
powder cocaine. Not only was there no scientific basis to
support the supposed differences between crack and powder
cocaine that Congress had relied on in devising the 100-to-1
ratio, but the 100-to-1 ratio resulted in vast unwarranted
racial disparities in the average length of sentences for
comparable offenses because the majority of people arrested
for crack offenses are Black. In fact, under the 100-to-1
regime, by 2004, Blacks served virtually as much time in
prison for a nonviolent drug offense (58.7 months) as whites
did for a violent offense (61.7 months).1218
In the past five years, the United States Sentencing
Commission has made two adjustments to the federal
Sentencing Guidelines that significantly reduced, though did
not eliminate, the unfounded sentencing disparity between
crack and powder cocaine offenses in the Guidelines. First, in
2007, the Sentencing Commission amended the Sentencing
Guidelines by lowering the sentencing ranges for most crack
cocaine offenses. Then, in 2010, in long overdue recognition
of the unfairness of the sentencing disparity, Congress passed
the Fair Sentencing Act (FSA), which reduced the disparity
between the amounts of crack and powder cocaine required to
trigger certain mandatory minimum sentences from 100-to-1
to 18-to-1. In 2011, the Sentencing Commission amended
the Sentencing Guidelines to reflect the FSA and then voted to
apply the new guidelines retroactively to individuals sentenced
before the FSA was enacted.1219 This decision created the

168 American Civil Liberties Union

opportunity for more than 12,000 people sentenced for crack
cocaine offenses under the 100-to-1 regime—85 percent
of whom are African-Americans—to have their sentences
reviewed and possibly reduced by a federal judge. In June
2012, the Supreme Court ruled that the FSA applies to people
whose offenses pre-date the law but who were sentenced after
its passage.
Unfortunately, despite Congress’s and the Commission’s
determinations that the previous crack cocaine penalties
under which thousands of defendants were sentenced were
unfair, the ACLU documented a number of cases in which
prisoners serving LWOP sentences have been unable to benefit
from these sentencing adjustments. In some cases, this was
because the sentences were controlled by statutory mandatory
minimums determined by Congress prior to the passage of
the FSA. Only Congress (not the Sentencing Commission)
can amend or repeal these mandatory minimum sentences,
and yet it did not do so when it passed the FSA. The FSA
lowered the quantity of drugs that triggered the mandatory
minimum but did not change the mandatory minimum
sentences. In such cases, people cannot benefit from the
retroactive Sentencing Guideline amendments because they
remain subject to statutory mandatory minimums. For others,
neither the FSA nor the Commission’s adjustments resulted
in a reduction of their sentencing ranges because they were
convicted as participants in drug conspiracies regardless
of the actual (and in some cases, minor) scope and level of
their participation in the conspiracy. As such, they were held
accountable for all the drugs possessed and distributed by the
conspiracy. For these people, the amounts of drugs for which
they were held responsible, and the enhancements applied to
their sentences, renders review or reduction of their sentences
impossible.1220
While the FSA was a step toward increased fairness, the 18-to
1 ratio continues to perpetuate the outdated and discredited
assumptions about crack cocaine that gave rise to the
unwarranted 100-to-1 disparity in the first place. In several
cases documented by the ACLU, prisoners serving LWOP
sentences would have already been eligible for release if the
disparity between the amounts of crack and powder cocaine
required to trigger certain mandatory minimum sentences
were eliminated. Crack and powder cocaine are two forms of
the same drug, and Congress should eliminate any disparity
in the amount of either necessary to prompt mandatory
minimum sentences.

FeDerAL SySTeM

Douglas Ray Dunkins Jr. was
sentenced to LWOP at age 26 for
conspiracy to possess and distribute
crack cocaine.1221
The trial court found that from ages 23 to 25, Dunkins manufactured and
distributed crack cocaine for a Fort Worth, Texas-based drug conspiracy comprised
of 15 co-conspirators. No drugs were ever seized in the case, and Dunkins was
convicted largely on the basis of testimony from co-conspirators who received
reduced sentences in exchange for their testimony.
Dunkins was sentenced to a mandatory sentence of life without parole; if had he
been sentenced for an equal amount of powder cocaine instead of crack, he would
have received a sentence of 20 years. At sentencing, Judge Terry R. Means told him,
“[I]t does seem unfair that the guidelines bind me to give you a life sentence…. It
troubles me to think that you at your age [are] going to have to spend the rest of
your life in prison. It troubles me a lot.”1222
It was Dunkins’s first felony conviction. He had only one prior misdemeanor
conviction for shoplifting from Kmart when he was 21 years old, for which he
received one-year probation. “To have no release date is devastating, as a first-time
nonviolent offender,” he says.1223 “I can’t even remember being sentenced; I was in a
total daze that they pulled a life sentence on me. I didn’t understand the sentence at
the time. Two to three months later, I find out a life sentence is a life sentence. I’m
surprised that I am still able to function.”1224
Dunkins, now 47, has been incarcerated for nearly 22 years. If the crack/powder
cocaine disparity were eliminated, he would already have been released from
prison. His three daughters, who were only one, five, and six years old when he
was incarcerated, are now in their twenties; two are in medical school. He stays in
touch with his daughters and mother weekly. He says of being separated from his
daughters, “It’s devastating, horrible, not being around to see them graduate and go
to school and day-to-day function as a family should. I missed their graduations.”1225
He adds, “I missed out on a lot, with my family. I missed out on marriages,
funerals.”1226

Douglas ray Dunkins Jr. with his
family. His daughters were one, five,
and six when he was incarcerated.
They are now 23, 25, and 27.

“

It does seem
unfair that the
guidelines bind
me to give you a
life sentence. It
troubles me to
think that you
at your age [are]
going to have to
spend the rest of
your life in prison.
It troubles me a
lot.”
— Judge Terry r. Means

Dunkins says that his mom, Bonnie Dunkins, cries whenever she visits him. Bonnie,
who has Stage 4 cancer, told the ACLU, “I ask God to help me to hold on. I just want
to live, God’s will, to see him come home…I just pray and ask God to let me live to
see him home.”1227 She adds, “His father didn’t live to see him be released. Whatever
my oncologist gives me, I don’t object. I’m just trying to hold on for my son. I love
him. I just pray that I live to see that day that he walks through that door.”1228

A Living Death: Case Studies 169

Bonnie remains extremely close with her son, who says he desperately wishes he
could be released from prison to support her. “That’s my only son and he was such
an inspiration and a big help to me when he was at home. We just did everything
together, and I miss him. It’s been hard for me,” Bonnie says.1229 “I just miss him
so much. He’s my only son. I have three daughters, but no one takes the place of
Douglas Ray Dunkins Jr.”1230
For nearly a decade, Dunkins has worked as a certified paralegal, assisting other
inmates with their cases; he says he loves doing legal work. He has completed an
array of educational and vocational programs while in prison and has held several
prison jobs, including a position working in the prison’s food administration
warehouse. He says that if he were released from prison, he would mentor youth to
ensure they avoid making the mistakes he has made and work as a paralegal. “Given
a second chance, I know that I would be much more productive,” he says.1231 “Prison
has opened my eyes to a lot of things in life in general. And it’s educated me.”1232
FeDerAL SySTeM

Jason Hernandez, 36, has been
serving life without parole since age
21 for his role in a drug conspiracy
starting when he was only 15.

Jason Hernandez with his parents,

brother, and teenage son, estevan.
�

While growing up in McKinney, Texas, Hernandez says he consistently made
honor roll and was never considered a troublemaker in school.1233 After starting
high school, however, he started associating with neighborhood drug dealers.1234
According to Hernandez, at age 15 he began dealing marijuana joints and dime bags
on the street corners of McKinney, following in his older brothers’ footsteps.1235
Everyone he knew sold or used drugs, and he says, “At that time I saw nothing
wrong with it. Everyone was doing it, hustling. It was a cool thing to do. You went
from skateboarding to breakdancing to drug-dealing.”1236 Hernandez says that by
age 17, the amounts of marijuana he distributed had increased to quarter-pounds
and pounds, and he started selling crack cocaine and methamphetamine, usually in
amounts ranging from a quarter-ounce to an ounce. Eventually his friends assisted
in storing and delivering the drugs.1237
About a month after he turned 21, Hernandez was arrested on federal drug
charges. His two elder brothers and numerous friends were arrested and charged as
co-conspirators. Three months later, in June 1998, he was convicted of conspiracy
to possess with intent to distribute and conspiracy to distribute drugs, including
crack cocaine; possession with intent to distribute crack cocaine; distribution near
a school zone; and maintaining a house to store drugs.1238 He was convicted of
committing these crimes over a five-year period when he was between 15 and 20,

170 American Civil Liberties Union

and the sentencing judge found him to have been a leader of the drug conspiracy
from when he was only 16.
Hernandez had only one prior adult conviction—a misdemeanor for failing to
pull over his car in a timely manner, for which he paid a fine—and two juvenile
convictions for simple possession of a gun when he was 14 and 17 years old.1239
Though he had been convicted as a juvenile of possessing a weapon, there were no
allegations in his federal drug conspiracy trial regarding use or possession of any
weapons.
Before sentencing Hernandez to LWOP, the district court judge stated that he
disagreed with the crack/powder cocaine sentencing disparity and that he had
written to Congress to change it.1240 The judge also stated, through reference, that
it was hard for him to sentence someone as young as Hernandez (who was 21 at
the time of sentencing) to LWOP, but that under the mandatory federal sentencing
guidelines he was unable to give a lower sentence.1241 Later, the lead narcotics officer
responsible for Hernandez’s arrest wrote a letter stating his opinion that although
Hernandez should have been imprisoned for his involvement in drug-dealing, a
life-without-parole sentence is too severe in his case.1242
Hernandez’s supplier, who was charged with distributing the same amount of
cocaine as Hernandez but in powder form, was sentenced the same day to only 12
years in prison.1243 The dramatic difference in their sentences was partly the result
of the sentencing disparity between crack and powder cocaine offenses, which
was 100-to-1 at the time of Hernandez’s sentencing. If the crack/powder cocaine
sentencing disparity were eliminated, Hernandez would be eligible for release in
four years.
Hernandez told the ACLU, “I…believe that a sentence that will result in my death
in prison, leave my child forever without a father, and my parents without a son,
should be determined by a human being, a judge with his wisdom and experience—
not a mathematical formula.”1244 He likens his sentence to “living and dying at the
same time.”1245 He explains, “This life sentence…has given me the unique experience
of looking at the world through the eyes of a dead man, you could say. Imagining all
the things I would love to do, and things I would do differently if only I could get a
second chance at life.”1246

“

This life sen
tence has given me
the unique experi
ence of looking at
the world through
the eyes of a dead
man. Imagining all
the things I would
love to do, and
things I would do
differently if only I
could get a second
chance at life.”

Hernandez, who is Mexican-American, speaks weekly with his parents, brothers,
and son. His 15-year-old son, Estevan, was only eight months old at the time of his
father’s arrest. Hernandez says he is distraught that he has missed out on raising
his son and guiding him through the pitfalls he himself faced as a boy. He explains,
“Being raised without a father, I can just imagine what it does to him—your father
is supposed to be there to teach you about life. He’s in the same neighborhood I was
raised in. There you’ll see drug dealers, you’ll see prostitutes, you’ll hear gunshots. I
know the possibilities of him doing drugs, selling drugs, coming to prison. I know
that you take his father away, the possibilities increase greatly.”1247

A Living Death: Case Studies 171

During his more than 15 years of incarceration, Hernandez reports he has never
been written up for a disciplinary infraction. He has completed a number of college
and vocational courses, including business management, paralegal studies, and
welding. He also participates in a program called A Better Path, through which he
speaks with troubled youth about seeking opportunities other than breaking the law
and tells them about the hardships that his crimes and imprisonment have imposed
on him and his family. Hernandez was also selected to serve in his prison’s suicide
watch companion program. He has maintained consistent employment throughout
his incarceration and currently works as an orderly in the prison.
“My incarceration was necessary and has done me good,” but “[I] feel there is
nothing to be gained by keeping me in here till I die,” he says.1248 “[M]entally, my
brain can’t comprehend that no matter how old I get and regardless of whatever
extraordinary changes I make in my character, it will account for nothing, for I am
going to die in prison regardless. It just doesn’t make sense.”1249
FeDerAL SySTeM

Marcus Evans has been imprisoned
since age 21, serving mandatory life
without parole for his role in a drug
ring over the course of a single year,
his first offense.
Marcus evans
�

Evans grew up on the west side of Rockford, Illinois, and his father died when he
was young. He graduated from high school and served as a medic in the U.S. Army
for two years, returning to Rockford after receiving a general discharge.1250 Evans
worked at his stepfather’s gas station and for a cleaning service.
According to prosecutors, Evans joined a large drug ring in Rockford in April
1992. The drug ring sold crack and powder cocaine out of various drug houses in
Rockford and was highly organized, with several levels of management, including
runners, lookouts, and supervisors. The members of the operation owned guns and
carried them on a regular basis. Although he had participated in the conspiracy
for only a year (until his arrest in 1993 at age 21), he was convicted as part of a
much larger drug conspiracy case involving 20 defendants.1251 He was convicted of
conspiracy to possess powder and crack cocaine with intent to distribute, in part on
the basis of the testimony of co-defendants who received sentences ranging from 60
to 132 months in exchange for their cooperation.1252 Evans was held accountable for
the entire amount of drugs sold by the conspiracy during his one-year involvement,
and the judge accordingly attributed 40 kilograms of crack cocaine to him.1253
The judge enhanced Evans’s offense level for sentencing purposes based on his
supervisory role and possession of a gun. Evans’s co-defendant was convicted of

172 American Civil Liberties Union

using a firearm during and in relation to a drug offense, but there were no charges
that the defendants committed any specific acts of violence as part of the case.
Although he had no criminal history, Evans was sentenced to mandatory life
without parole in 1994, when he was 23 years old. Judge Philip Reinhard, the
sentencing judge, told Evans that he “would not have faced the same penalty
had this prosecution been brought in state court,”1254 and said he thought the
punishment was excessive:
I have been on the bench and participated in criminal cases in other
capacities for almost 30 years, and a life sentence is generally reserved
for someone who’s killed somebody else or severely injured somebody
or tortured somebody or for a person who’s committed many violent
acts…. It just seems to me that the consequences that you face are
rather severe for a boy who’s 23 years old, graduated from high school,
went into the military, got out of the military, and got involved in this
organization for a period of one year and now faces a sentence for the
rest of his life, unless the laws change. And I am concerned over that,
but I have no choice in the matter.1255
Evans would have been sentenced to 20 years if crack and powder cocaine were
sentenced equally. Judge Reinhard, a Republican appointee, emphasized that the
sentence was the result of the Sentencing Guidelines and the sentencing disparity
between crack and powder cocaine, which was 100-to-1 at the time, but he had no
choice as the sentence was mandatory:
[Y]ou have received a sentence that has been set by the Sentencing
Guidelines. These Guidelines are mandatory. They take the
discretion…from me in this case under the facts once the Guidelines
are calculated…. The United States Supreme Court has upheld life
imprisonment for distribution of certain amounts of crack cocaine,
[y]et I believe there is some validity to the fact that crack cocaine and
powder cocaine should not have that great a disparity. In this case, for
the amounts that you have been found to be responsible for, if crack
and powder carried the same sentence, you would be facing a 20-year
sentence. That still is a long sentence. It still is a great punishment,
but there is a disparity. That’s what the law is. That’s what I’m obliged
to follow.1256

“

A life sentence
seems rather
severe for a boy
who’s 23 years old,
graduated from
high school, went
into the military,
got out of the
military, and got
involved in this
organization for a
period of one year
and now faces a
sentence for the
rest of his life, but
I have no choice in
the matter.”
— Judge Terry r. Means

Marcus is 41 years old and has been imprisoned for 20 years. He says that he has
become a different person in the two decades he has been imprisoned. “From 21
to 41 who is the same person?” he asks. “I’ve grown up in prison. This is where I
matured,” he said.1257 “I’m no threat to society… [S]eeing me die in prison benefits
who? I’m a loving, caring human being. I have family and friends who love me, and
this needs to end for all of us.”1258

A Living Death: Case Studies 173

AGING AND ELDERLY
NONVIOLENT PRIsONERs
“I had just turned 36 years old when I was
arrested in this case. I will turn 60 in July. I have
seen firsthand all these guys that were my age
and younger guys turn old in these prisons….
Our hair has turned gray, white, some of us
have lost all our hair. We’re getting old and in
another 15-20 years some, if not most of us, will
be dead.”1259
—Kenneth Fragoso, 60, serving LWOP
for cocaine conspiracy because of a drug
transaction between two confidential
informants

Due to extreme sentencing policies and the growing number
of life, LWOP, and other death-in-prison sentences, the
population of elderly prisoners in the United States is
exploding, turning many correctional facilities in the United
States into veritable nursing homes. A life-without-parole
sentence means that prisoners will inevitably grow old and
incapacitated in prison, even when they no longer pose
sufficient safety threats to justify their continued incarceration.
The ACLU’s June 2012 report, At America’s Expense: The Mass
Incarceration of the Elderly, detailed the epidemic of aging
prisoners in the United States due to LWOP and other long
sentences and the staggering cost to taxpayers to warehouse
aging and elderly prisoners, who are twice as expensive to
incarcerate as the average prisoner.1260

FeDerAL SySTeM

Ignatzio “Nat” Giuliano, 78, has
served more than two decades of a
mandatory minimum LWOP sentence
for conspiracy to distribute cocaine.

ignatzio Giuliano, 78, in a recent
photo. He has been incarcerated for
23 years.

Born in Brooklyn and raised in Upstate New York, Giuliano worked in construction
as a carpenter and painter. He later moved to Fort Lauderdale, where he raised his
children and owned the Paddlewheel Queen, a paddleboat restaurant used for dinner
cruises. He says he sought to obtain financing for the business through an additional
investor, a former Pompano Beach nightclub owner who would later be declared the
organizer, leader, and manager of the drug conspiracy for which Giuliano was later
indicted.
Giuliano, then 55, was arrested in October 1990. He was one of 16 arrested as part of
a large cocaine distribution conspiracy but only one of three to challenge the charges
against him at trial. He was convicted of conspiracy to distribute and to possess
with the intent to distribute more than five kilograms of cocaine.1261 The leader of
the conspiracy testified against Giuliano and two co-defendants in exchange for
a reduced sentence and was released from prison after only serving three years.
According to Giuliano, he also was convicted on the basis of the testimony of a
co-conspirator who, in exchange for his testimony that Giuliano was his personal
contact for the purchase of cocaine, was permitted to retain properties that would
have otherwise been seized by the government.

174 American Civil Liberties Union

Giuliano was sentenced to life without parole in 1991. His sentence was enhanced
to mandatory LWOP because he was classified as a career criminal on account of his
prior convictions. He had four priors from 1977 and 1978 for possessing five grams
of marijuana, delivery of marijuana and cocaine, conspiracy to delivery marijuana,
and conspiracy to distribute and possess marijuana.1262 From 1978 until his arrest in
October of 1990, he had no arrests.
According to Giuliano, the prosecutor had offered a plea deal of five years, but
his defense attorney at the time did not make him aware of the offer.1263 Also
unbeknownst to him, his defense attorney had a personal and business relationship
with the co-defendant who testified against him. Giuliano appealed his conviction
and sentence, but it was denied because he filed it 70 days late. His habeas corpus
motion based on ineffective assistance of counsel was rejected as time-barred as well.
Giuliano has spent 23 years in prison. His health is in decline. Over the past two
years, he has had multiple operations and experienced a health scare during which
his glucose level plummeted and he nearly died.1264 He takes 13 medications on
a daily basis, his hearing is severely diminished, his vision is deteriorating, and
he suffers from a form of skin cancer that keeps him indoors.1265 He also suffers
from blood pressure issues that cause him to lose consciousness. He says, “I am
an old man now. I made mistakes in my life, but I am not a threat to society, and I
begrudge no one. My co-defendants have been home for years. All I am asking is to
be afforded the dignity to spend the last few years of my life with my family, and to
die outside of prison.”1266
Giuliano is from a large, close-knit family that is eager to be reunited with him. He
speaks with his two sisters, son, and daughter every Sunday. He lost both of his parents
while in prison and has not seen his children in years.1267 He explains of his children,
“They love me and they want to visit, but I just cannot bear the thought of them
seeing me like this.”1268 He has not met his grandchildren. His daughter, Karen, said,
“He needs to be with his family,”1269 and his son, Joseph, wishes his father could “spend
his remaining years with his family so that we can take care of him.”1270 His children
and two sisters all want him to move in with them to live out his remaining days.

“

I am an old
man now. I am not
a threat to society.
My co-defendants
have been home
for years. All I am
asking is to be af
forded the dignity
to spend the last
few years of my
life with my family,
and to die outside
of prison.”1271

The clinical director at the prison wrote that Giuliano should be released to home
confinement because he has “worsening health issues related to his age,” which “will
continue to worsen as he ages.” The clinical director described him as gentlemanly;
with calm demeanor, solid integrity, respect for others, and commitment to the
welfare of his family; and called him a “model mentor for younger inmates on
the importance of living an honorable life.” Giuliano says he has never had a
disciplinary incident report filed against him.
Giuliano’s co-defendant who also went to trial, Bill Westcott, was also sentenced to
life without parole. Now 80 years old, Westcott requires a walker to move around
and has limited mobility. He is suffering from cancer, which has required radiation
treatment, and expects that he cannot live through another round of chemotherapy.

A Living Death: Case Studies 175

FeDerAL SySTeM

Robert Jonas, 75, was convicted of
conspiracy to possess, import, and
distribute cocaine and marijuana in
1992 and sentenced to LWOP when
he was 52 years old.
Jonas had one prior conviction, for sale of one kilogram of cocaine in 1985, at age
46, for which he served five years in prison.
robert Jonas in a photo taken in
2005. He is now 75 years old.

Jonas has served 22
years in prison and
is now 75. He has
been written up for
a single disciplinary
infraction: keeping
a cat in his cell. If
released from pris
on, Jonas would “go
home and adopt a
few cats.”

Jonas says he has struggled since 1963, when, at age 25, he was wrongly diagnosed
with cancer. The misdiagnosis led to unnecessary surgeries and radiation treatment
that has left him, in his words, “‘half-sick’ ever since.”1272 After graduating from
college in 1966, Jonas gradually descended into alcoholism. He began a career as
an accountant and, after receiving treatment, quit drinking alcohol for good in
December 1982.1273
Around this time, Jonas became involved in marijuana smuggling. In early 1991,
under suspicion that Jonas and others were tied to the Cali drug cartel of Colombia,
customs agents set up a reverse sting operation in which agents and two confidential
informants transported 7,000 pounds of marijuana and 4,700 pounds of cocaine
from Colombia to New Jersey in exchange for $9 million.1274 On May 30, 1991,
Jonas and three other men who were also targeted were arrested after driving to the
pre-arranged site for the drug sale at a Comfort Inn in Elizabeth, New Jersey.1275 The
court found that Jonas and one of his alleged co-conspirators, Eduardo Mantilla,
were the ringleaders behind the largest cocaine and marijuana importation
scheme in New Jersey history and sentenced both men to LWOP.1276 At trial, Jonas
asserted that he was a mere “go-betweener” in an international drug conspiracy.1277
According to Jonas, he was a low-level employee, primarily keeping accounting
records, and he never possessed a weapon or did his own drug deal.1278 He has taken
responsibility for helping to set up the deal, but said that “the crime could not have
happened but for the government and their agents provocateurs.”1279 According to
Jonas, the confidential informants were paid $400,000 and $250,000, respectively,
for their roles in the operation.1280
Jonas has served 22 years in prison and is now 75. In his spare time, he helps other
prisoners with their studies and teaches accounting. Jonas says he enjoys reading,
playing the trumpet, solving puzzles, and taming wild cats.1281 He has been written
up for a single disciplinary infraction: keeping a cat in his cell. If released from
prison, Jonas would “go home and adopt a few cats.”1282

176 American Civil Liberties Union

FeDerAL SySTeM

An aging Cuban fisherman with a
seventh-grade education, Leopoldo
Hernandez-Miranda, 74, is serving
LWOP for a nonviolent marijuana
offense.
Hernandez-Miranda was convicted of possession of marijuana with intent to
distribute at age 55 after he and three others served as middlemen in shipping a
truckload of marijuana.1283 He was arrested on a fishing boat with more than a
thousand pounds of the drug.1284 Hernandez-Miranda had one prior conviction for
a similar drug crime in 1986, for which he served three years in prison.1285 According
to Hernandez-Miranda, at sentencing the judge stated that he had no choice but to
impose a life sentence because it was his second offense.1286
Hernandez-Miranda told the ACLU that he became involved in this crime because
he was new to the Miami area and had struggled to find work. He recalls that he
needed money badly to support his family. He said, “At the time of my crime, I was
willing to take a chance, now that I know how a life sentence feels, I would never
take a chance with my life.”1287 Hernandez-Miranda said he was never informed that
he faced a life sentence, and that had he known, he would have pleaded guilty in lieu
of going to trial.1288
Hernandez-Miranda has served 19 years in prison and says he wishes for a chance to
return home to his family. Before he was arrested, Hernandez-Miranda explained,
he was “a family man” and spent most of his days with his wife, four children, and
three grandchildren.1289 He lives too far away for them to visit him, but he speaks on
the phone to his children every other day.1290 He says, “I am old and I am dying, I
just want to spend my last years with my family.”1291

Leopoldo Hernandez-Miranda
�

“

I am old and
I am dying, I just
want to spend my
last years with my
family.”

A Living Death: Case Studies 177

TERMINALLY ILL NONVIOLENT
PRIsONERs
FeDerAL SySTeM

David Lincoln Hyatt with his daughter
and son. When Hyatt was sentenced
to life without parole 20 years ago,
his six children ranged in age from
seven to 17.

“

Once again I
question whether
the life sentence
that I was required
to pronounce
makes good policy
in the long run.”
—Judge David D. Dowd Jr.

178 American Civil Liberties Union

David Lincoln Hyatt is serving LWOP
for his first offense, a nonviolent
drug conspiracy committed when
he was 43 years old.1292 Since his
incarceration, he has been diagnosed
with terminal prostate cancer. He is
63 years old and does not know how
much longer he has to live.
Hyatt served in the U.S. Army, including three years in the Vietnam War. After
being honorably discharged from the military in 1972, he worked with the New
York City Transit Authority under the Comprehensive Employment and Training
Act program for veterans. Soon after, he got married and completed three years of
college courses in electrical engineering while working for the U.S. Postal Service.
He left his job to follow his passion in the music industry, forming his own record
label, Tavdash Records, in Miami, Florida.
In 1991, Hyatt traveled to Akron, Ohio, to meet with rap artists whom he was
considering signing. On July 13, 1993, a day that was, according to him, “a big
surprise and nightmare,” he was arrested for conspiracy to distribute cocaine.1293 It
was the first and only time he had ever been arrested.
The FBI claimed that Hyatt’s former studio manager was involved in a drug
operation in Akron and that Hyatt was the boss of the operation.1294 According to
the trial court, Hyatt arranged for tractor-trailer loads of cocaine to be delivered to
drug distributors in the United States, traveling between Miami and New York on
a weekly basis.1295 Despite FBI searches of his office, residence, and four additional
apartments leased in his name, no drugs were ever uncovered.1296 FBI agents did
find two guns and documents regarding hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash
deposits and expenditures exceeding his documented income.1297 Hyatt told the
ACLU that he owned the weapons because he became a certified weapons expert in
the military,1298 and that during his trial, the FBI agent who conducted the search
testified that “he could not clearly state that the funds came from drugs or the
record company” at which Hyatt worked.1299 Hyatt says he was convicted on the
basis of the testimony of jailhouse snitches who were promised reduced sentences in
exchange for their testimony.1300

No drug amount was listed in the indictment. That determination was made by the
judge, not the jury, and on the basis of the determined drug amount Hyatt received
a mandatory LWOP sentence. Upon sentencing Hyatt, Judge David D. Dowd Jr.
stated, “I think like almost every other District Court Judge in the United States, at
times we have expressed frustration with the straightjacket the Guidelines represent,
but clearly that’s a decision that’s way beyond the power of this Court to make.”1301
In an August 2008 order, Judge Dowd further stated, “It is the Court’s recollection
that he indicated, but for the Guideline, he would have imposed a sentence less
than a life sentence.”1302 Hyatt cannot obtain retroactive relief under the Booker and
Apprendi Supreme Court rulings, though both cases would affect his sentence if
they were applied retroactively.
In January 2010, Hyatt was diagnosed with terminal prostate cancer. Since the
summer of 2011, Hyatt has been undergoing daily chemotherapy. His cancer is
in Stage 4. When asked how long he had left to live, he said he tries not to think
about it.1303
Hyatt applied for compassionate release in July 2012; he explained, “My situation
is not that of a potential re-offender but rather a cancer patient, whose prognosis
is poor and deserving of a reduction of sentence and compassionate release
after considering all facts, which would give me the chance to be with my family
again.”1304 The judge who sentenced Hyatt to LWOP wrote a letter in support of his
petition for compassionate release, questioning the merit of Hyatt’s sentence. In
the letter, Judge Dowd referenced an opinion in a similar case in which he cited the
fact that there are currently 2,454 inmates serving life sentences for drug offenses in
federal prisons. Judge Dowd wrote, “Once again I question whether the life sentence
that I was required to pronounce makes good policy in the long run.”1305
Hyatt told the ACLU that the most important thing he has realized since his
incarceration is “how important you are to your kids and family and how their lives
change forever once you are arrested and gone this long.”1306 He has six children—
three daughters and three sons—and speaks with them and his sisters weekly.1307 His
youngest child is 27 and his oldest is 37.1308

Hyatt was
diagnosed with
Stage 4 terminal
prostate cancer.
“My situation
is not that of
a potential reoffender but rather
a cancer patient
whose prognosis is
poor and deserving
of a reduction of
sentence, which
would give me the
chance to be with
my family again.”

His family is eager to have him home. In a letter to the unit manager at Hyatt’s
prison in November 2012, his sister June wrote that Hyatt has “grown remarkably”
and that “[h]is writings and conversations during visits reveal someone who has
matured, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.”1309 She said her family members are
concerned about “how many more days that he has left to live” and they desperately
want him “to live out these last days with the family that he has here in Florida” so
that they can care for him in his final moments.1310

A Living Death: Case Studies 179

OkLAHOMA

Donnie Daniel
�

Daniel was
diagnosed with
end-stage liver dis
ease, but he does
not qualify for a
life-saving liver
transplant. “I’ll
never give up my
hopes and dreams
of being free, to
spend what little
time I do
have left with my
loved ones.”

Donnie Daniel is dying of endstage liver disease, a terminal
condition, and cannot receive a liver
transplant because he is serving
an LWOP sentence for 24 grams
of methamphetamine found in the
motel room of a woman with whom
he had spent the night.
Daniel says he was addicted to drugs and started selling small amounts to
support his habit.1311 On October 6, 1989, he was convicted of unlawful delivery
of methamphetamine, unlawful possession of methamphetamine with intent
to distribute, and unlawful delivery of marijuana and methamphetamine. The
charges stemmed from two drug sales over a period of six months. A friend of
Daniel’s, who, unbeknownst to him, was working as a confidential informant, set
him up to sell an undercover officer a quarter-gram of methamphetamine on one
occasion and, six months later, to sell another undercover officer a quarter-gram
of methamphetamine and a quarter-ounce of marijuana.1312 That same day, he was
also convicted of knowingly concealing stolen property and receiving, possessing
or concealing stolen property, offenses he committed in 1986, for which he had
received a five-year deferred sentence.1313 He accepted a plea deal and served several
years in prison.
Upon his release from prison in 1991, Daniel began working at an oil field and says
he spent his time taking care of his wife and young daughter.1314 On November 29,
1995, when he was 33 years old, Daniel said, “My life and my families’ lives changed
in a way that I still have a hard time talking about.”1315 According to Daniel, that
night he was at his sister’s house and offered to drive a woman he had known all
his life to her motel room. By the time they arrived it was late and Daniel decided
to spend the night in the room. He recalls he woke up the next morning to the
sound of a deputy sheriff kicking in the door to the room and yelling at him to get
on the floor. The deputy was accompanied by another deputy and two probation
officers, one of whom had put Daniel in prison in 1989. The officers had a warrant
for the woman’s arrest but quickly turned their attention to Daniel. Searching the
room, the officers uncovered 24 grams of methamphetamine, 15 Valium pills, and
marijuana.1316
On August 4, 1997, his daughter’s birthday, a jury convicted Daniel of trafficking
24 grams of methamphetamine and two counts of possession of a controlled
dangerous substance with intent to distribute.1317 One of the possession-with

180 American Civil Liberties Union

intent-to-distribute counts was later reversed on appeal.1318 He was sentenced to
LWOP on the methamphetamine trafficking charge, life for the 15 Valium pills,
and 10 years for the marijuana. When he heard the sentence, he said it felt like “my
world had come to an end.”1319 According to Daniel, the woman from the motel
received six months on a probation violation.1320
In 2004, Daniel was diagnosed with chronic hepatitis B and hepatitis C marked
with cirrhosis of the liver, stage 4 fibrosis, grade 4 inflammation, and end-stage liver
disease.1321 Daniel says he does not qualify for a life-saving liver transplant because
he is incarcerated. He struggles with his health in prison, and says, “I’m not going
to lie, I go through some pretty rough times dealing with my health issues and still
trying to accept my appeals being final, but I also know that I’m not alone and there
are others that are worse off than me.”1322 He reports he was once placed in solitary
confinement for 65 days for refusing to be placed in the medical unit due to his
illness after having previously spent a year-and-a-half in the medical unit.1323
Daniel says his suffering has been compounded by being away from his family.
He told the ACLU that his imprisonment has “really been hard due to my health
and not being able to see my family” because of the Oklahoma Department of
Corrections’ decision to send elderly inmates, a lot of whom are, according to
Daniel, “pretty sick,” to a facility far from his home.1324 He told the ACLU, “I’ll never
give up my hopes and dreams of being free, to spend what little time I do have left
with my loved ones.”1325
Now 50 years old, Daniel has been in prison for 16 years and says he has worked
to better himself through participation in drug relapse intervention, anger
management, clean and proud, and corrective thinking programs.1326 Having
entered prison with only an eighth-grade education, Daniel earned his GED in
2001.1327 In his spare time, he says he works to “fight my illness, play dominos, and
exercise as often as I can.”1328 He reports he has been drug-free since his diagnosis in
2005.1329 Daniel said of his sentence, “I’m no angel, but I still can’t see how they can
put a person away for the rest of their life just because they were convicted of two
or more drug felonies in the past and they happen to be in a place where drugs are
present.”1330

“

I go through
some pretty rough
times dealing with
my health issues
and still trying to
accept my appeals
being final. I still
can’t see how they
can put a person
away for the rest
of their life just
because they were
convicted of two
or more drug felo
nies in the past.”

A Living Death: Case Studies 181

VII. The

Reality of serving Life
without Parole

ife without parole is essentially a sentence to die in
prison: prisoners are not released. They are categorically
ineligible for parole, and once their post-conviction
appeals are exhausted, their only chance for release is
rarely-granted commutation or clemency by the president or
governor of their state or similarly infrequent compassionate
release shortly before they die. Federal lifers are ineligible for
“good time” credit or parole, which was abolished for anyone
convicted in federal courts after November 1, 1987, so in
the federal system, a life sentence means death in prison.1331
Without a date on which they know they will be set free,
prisoners wake up each day facing a lifetime of imprisonment
with no hope of release. They grow old, fall ill, and eventually
die behind bars.
Prisoners with whom the ACLU spoke or corresponded
reported experiencing profound negative psychological
impact from their sentences. In interviews with the ACLU,
prisoners reported feelings of unremitting hopelessness,
loneliness, anxiety, depression, fear, isolation from family
and their community, and suicidal thoughts. Some have
attempted suicide, and others expressed the wish for death so
that their suffering would end. Many struggle to find purpose

or meaning in their lives. Prisoners described the anguish
of being separated from family, being unable to be present
to parent their children or support aging and ailing parents,
missing funerals of parents and siblings who died during
their incarceration, being forgotten by friends and family,
and facing the prospect of growing old and dying in prison
without any hope for release.
In Graham v. Florida, the U.S. Supreme Court noted,
“The State does not execute the offender sentenced to life
without parole, but the sentence alters the offender’s life
by a forfeiture that is irrevocable. It deprives the convict of
the most basic liberties without giving hope of restoration,
except perhaps by executive clemency—the remote possibility
does not mitigate the harshness of the sentence. […] Life in
prison without the possibility of parole gives no chance for
fulfillment outside prison walls, no chance for reconciliation
with society, no hope.” 1332
The Nevada Supreme Court noted the hopelessness and
finality of the sentence, finding that “All but the deadliest
and most unsalvageable of prisoners have the right to appear
before the board of parole to try and show that they have

“

The State does not execute the offender
sentenced to life without parole, but the
sentence alters the offender’s life by a forfeiture
that is irrevocable. It deprives the convict
of the most basic liberties without giving
hope of restoration. Life in prison without
the possibility of parole gives no chance for
fulfillment outside prison walls, no chance for
reconciliation with society, no hope.”
—The U.S. Supreme Court in Graham v. Florida

182 American Civil Liberties Union

behaved well in prison confines and that their moral and
spiritual betterment merits consideration of some adjustment
of their sentences. Denial of this vital opportunity means
denial of hope; it means that good behavior and character
improvement are immaterial; it means that whatever the
future might hold in store for the mind and spirit [of the
prisoner], he will remain in prison for the rest of his days.”1333
The U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit found that a
life-without-parole sentence “condemn[s] [the prisoner] to
die in a living tomb, there to linger out what may be a long
life…without any of its alleviation or rewards—debarred
from all pleasant sights and sounds, and cut off from all
earthly hope.”1334

“

It feels like you have been
sentenced to death. It feels
like someone or something
is suffocating the life out of
you slowly. The pain and
suffering will be there till the
day you die.”
—Libert roland

sentence to a form of death, explaining, “To me, to have life
without parole is just like being dead. People forget about
you. People grow old. Babies are born you may never see and
hold. Places you will never go again. Things you would never
do again. People will die and you will not be able to pay your
last respects to [them].”1338

WHAT IT MEANs TO BE
sENTENCED TO LIfE
WITHOUT PAROLE
Over and over, prisoners serving life without parole for
nonviolent crimes described their sentences as a form of
living death. For example, Eduardo Toranzo, who has been
incarcerated for 24 years, told the ACLU of his LWOP
sentence for armed burglary, “It’s like you are a living dead
person on a [life] support machine.”1335 Thomas Tinghino,
who is serving LWOP for armed burglary, told the ACLU,
“Serving a life sentence is akin to being dead, without the one
benefit of not having to suffer anymore.”1336 Libert Roland,
who is serving LWOP for possession of more than 28 grams
of cocaine, said of his sentence:
It feels like you have been sentence[d] to
death…. The pain never go[es] away. It feels like
you have lost your purpose in life, your reason
to live. It feels like someone or something is
suffocating the life out of you slowly.... The pain
and suffering will be there till the day you die.
You feel the only relief you have left, the only
hope, is to die [a] fast death. Because death
cannot be worse than you feel now and the grief
you have placed on your family.1337
Lloyd Wright, who was sentenced to LWOP for selling $50
worth of crack within proximity of a school, also likened his

Jessie Traylor, who was sentenced to LWOP for possession of
cocaine with intent to distribute and conspiracy to distribute
five or more kilograms of cocaine, described his sentencing as
“like being at your own funeral,” and he said his sentence was
a mandate “to stop my life as if I was a cancerous tumor.”1339
Leland Dodd, who has served 22 years of his LWOP sentence
for attempting to buy 50 pounds of marijuana from an
undercover officer, described his sentence as such: “You are
dead. You don’t exist anymore.”1340 He added, “I would be
better off dead.”1341 Ricky Minor told the ACLU of his LWOP
sentence for attempting to manufacture methamphetamine
after just over a gram of the drug and decongestant pills
were found in his home, “Really it is the end of your life, it is
over…I don’t have another chance at life.”1342
Others likened their sentence to a “slow death penalty,” in
the words of Kevin Ott.1343 Antawn Tyrone Bolden similarly
said of his LWOP sentence for armed burglary, “It’s a slow
death sentence…It is a terrible, horrifying feeling [to] know
every day you wake up you [are] bound to die in prison or
never see daylight. It’s unexplainable.”1344 Raffaelous White
said that when he was sentenced to LWOP for distributing
two crack rocks, “I felt like my life was over and I was
sentenced to a slow death.”1345 He said his life in prison is

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 183

“a living nightmare, all my hope and dreams are fading
away.”1346 Darek Hayes, who is serving LWOP for possession
of a firearm as a convicted felon following prior burglary
convictions, said, “I felt like [the judge] should have just given
me the death penalty. Because he basically ended my life for a
victimless crime.”1347
Scott Walker explained, “You’ve been given a death
sentence, but, to die of either illness, prison violence, or
old age [in prison]. Its only difference is that there’s not a
pre-determined date. There’s also the underlying feeling
that you are dead to society and to a certain extent to your
families’ lives.”1348 Clinton Matthews, who is serving LWOP
for drug conspiracy, told the ACLU, “This sentence is actually
a sentence to a long and slow death watching my life go
from a young man to an old man. It also involves watching
loved ones pass away without being able to be there. It is
not easy!”1349 Kerry Orgeron, who is serving LWOP for
purse-snatching, says his sentence means, “I will die without
a chance to be human. It is more of a punishment than the
death penalty.”1350
Some shared the pain and fear of knowing they will die in
prison. Alonzo Jason, a 43-year-old diagnosed schizophrenic
who is serving LWOP for attempted purse-snatching when he
was off his medication more than 15 years ago, told the ACLU
that being sentenced to LWOP is “like being in the bottom
of a lake trap waiting to die with no chance of ever getting
out alive…I’m so sorry and afraid of dying in this place.”1351
Terrence Jackson, who is serving LWOP for trafficking
cocaine that was found in another man’s home, said of his
sentence, “To me, honestly, it’s like being diagnosed with the
AIDS virus, a slow death, being mentally beat, wondering is
it possible to get another chance or will I die on a hard metal
bed with no family members to support you.”1352
Others described the particular pain of not having a release
date. Louis Brady, who is serving LWOP for simple burglary
for stealing microwaves, televisions, and bicycles, said that
“I’ve did prison time before, but I had an out date. But not
to have an out date, and [be] around inmates that have been
here 20, 30, 40 years and hear how they are dying…All I can
say, it’s not hell, but like walking on the hot coals to get there
[to hell].”1353 Bobby Wallace, who is serving LWOP for drug
possession, told the ACLU that not having a release date is “[l]
ike being blindfolded and being placed in a dark maze, then

184 American Civil Liberties Union

“

It’s part of the requirement
for normal human develop
ment and psychology to imag
ine that things will get better
in the future. LWOP leads to a
kind of despair, of ever having
another life, because that just
gets wiped out.”
—Dr. Terry kupers

being told, ‘Find your way out,’ but there is no way out. It is so
much worse than that.”1354

Hopelessness, Depression, and
suicidal Thoughts and Attempts
Imprisonment with no release date causes psychological
trauma. Clinical research on the psychological consequences
of LWOP and other death-in-prison sentences suggests that
the mental health impact of LWOP sentences differs from
parole-eligible sentences in which a prisoner has a release date
that he or she is likely to reach during his or her lifetime.1355
The Sentencing Project found that a higher percentage of
LWOP prisoners suffered from mental illness—primarily
serious depression—than parole-eligible prisoners with a
life sentence. Studies on the mental health consequences of
indefinite detention have found that the indefinite terms
of detainees’ confinement causes them to develop feelings
of hopelessness and helplessness that lead to depressive
symptoms, chronic anxiety, despair, and suicidal ideation.1356
Dr. Terry Kupers, a psychiatrist who specializes in the mental
health effects of incarceration and has more than four
decades of clinical experience as a psychiatrist in prisons,
told the ACLU that the despair caused by the lack of hope of
being released reverberates through prisoners’ psychological
lives. He said of the particular despair experienced by
prisoners serving LWOP, “It’s part of the requirement for

normal human development and psychology to have a vision
for yourself in the future so that you have a goal. So that
you can imagine that things will get better in the future. It’s
the view of the future, and it’s the hope that things will get
better—there’s always the hope that things will get better. But
when you get LWOP, there’s such a starkness to it, you are
never going to get out of here. That leads to a kind of despair,
the despair of ever having another life, because in prison with
LWOP that just gets wiped out.”1357
Dr. Kupers said that this despair exacerbates existing mental
illness: “That despair plays out in whatever mental tendencies
they have. People with a history of depression or are prone to
depression or suicidal feelings will become suicidal. People
who are prone to psychosis will become psychotic…When
you’ve got someone who is schizophrenic and they have
LWOP, then in general every aspect of their psychological
life is going to be worse. They can’t improve their rational
thinking because they aren’t getting out of there.”1358 Nearly
one in five prisoners (18.4 percent) serving life sentences
suffers from a mental illness, according to a study of Bureau
of Justice Statistics data by The Sentencing Project.1359 The
high incidence of mental illness among lifers raises particular
concern about the deleterious effect of LWOP and life
sentences on these prisoners’ mental health. Moreover, based
on his work with suicidal prisoners, Dr. Kupers suspects that
the suicide rate among prisoners sentenced to LWOP for
low-level offenses is high, but to his knowledge, no clinical
data exists to confirm his hypothesis.1360
Almost without exception, the prisoners serving LWOP
with whom the ACLU spoke or corresponded reported
experiencing profound despair and hopelessness. Some
expressed the wish for death so that their suffering would
end, and some reported contemplating or attempting suicide
because of the hopelessness of their sentences.
Dicky Joe Jackson says that when he was sentenced, “I wished
then and even more so now that they would’ve just killed
me.”1361 He told the ACLU, “There’s lots of nights in your
prayers you ask to not wake up the next day…. There’s no
hope in here for us lifers and we become forgotten after a
while.”1362 He added, “I wish it were over, even if it meant I
were dead…. When I lie down at night I think it would be
great not to wake up in the morning, then all this would be
over.”1363

Timothy Hartman, who is serving LWOP for armed burglary
and has been incarcerated for 13 years, calls his sentence
“a slow, painful death.” He says, “As the years go on, it gets
worse. You lose hope, the will to live.”1364 He told the ACLU
that his sentence has driven him to such profound despair
that he has considered suicide, explaining, “So many have no
hope—it’s turned [us] insane. Mentally, you break. You have
to or else you cannot justify staying alive. It’s pointless. You
put a human being in a situation so bad, so evil, death is the
only end.”1365
Donald Lee Graham said of his sentence, “It’s like you’re
nothing. Why should I want to live? I would rather [have]
been sentenced to lethal injection, than suffer the way I am.
If I did not care for my family I would ask to die, but I must
keep my family together. I don’t want them to suffer any
more than they already are.”1366 He says that he struggles with
suicidal feelings because of the hopelessness of his sentence:
“It hurts, fighting myself each day to continue to allow the
light of our Father [to] shine upon me.”1367
Thomas Bryant Jr., a police officer who was sentenced to
LWOP following a police corruption sting operation, told the
ACLU that he has considered suicide because of the despair
of his sentence. He says, “When you are laying down and
wondering about your kids and your family and whether your
wife will leave you, those are the times that you feel like your
life is over and you’re going to lose your life in prison and you
think that I should just end it now.”1368
Louis Scott White, who is serving LWOP for armed burglary,
says that he is plagued by depression and suicidal thoughts
because of his sentence, which he describes as “a slow,
horrible, torturous death…I really truly [think] the world
has forgot about us.”1369 He adds, “I want to cry every day,
but I can’t…[Life is] pure hell! I can’t dream of a free life,
only prison life.”1370 His loss of hope has led him to attempt
suicide. He says, “I attempted suicide twice, so far. I may try
again, once I get things in order.”1371 White has been held in
solitary confinement because of his suicide attempts.
Ivan Anderson, who is serving LWOP for armed burglary
of an unoccupied house, told the ACLU, “I’ve watched
inmates hang themselves, wondering if that would be a better
alternative than serving life myself.”1372 He says that he has
struggled with depression and such profound loneliness that

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 185

he describes his incarceration as being inside a boat, “floating
down the river of loneliness.”1373 “It’s hard,” he adds, “but it’s
what society sentenced me to.”1374
David Correa said, “I rather they just give me the needle and
get it over [with], for what is a life sentence without parole if
not an indeterminate death sentence? So let the government
stop its charade of being kind and humane to us when all
they are doing is warehousing us and just get their original
intent over [with] and stop all the mental torture by keeping
us alive in here without hope of ever going home.”1375
Sylvester Mead said, “The hopelessness will eat you alive if
you can’t handle it.”1376 Jimmy Cochran, who is serving LWOP
for attempting suicide with a razorblade in his ex-girlfriend’s
house, said his life in prison is “Pretty dismal. Destitute.
Lonely.” He added, “A life sentence doesn’t go away. It’s there
when you wake up in the morning. It’s definitely there when
you go to sleep.”1377
Patrick Matthews, who is serving LWOP for stealing tools
from a tool shed and a welding machine from a yard when he
was 22 years old, says that he has considered suicide to end
his suffering. “There [are] plenty of times [I] want to give up
and end it,” he says. “Prison is not a place I want to be the rest
of my life and won’t be, whether dead or alive…I could not
live in here the rest of my life!”1378

Isolation from family
An LWOP sentence can shatter familial bonds, and, like other
prisoners, prisoners serving LWOP are isolated from family
and have severely limited contact with loved ones. LWOP
and other long sentences have devastating emotional, social,
and economic consequences for prisoners, their children,
their spouses or partners, and their parents and extended
family. The prospect of no reunification outside prison walls
ends prisoners’ otherwise stable marriages. It limits the role
they can play in their children’s lives, as they miss out on
their children’s first steps, graduations, marriages, births of
grandchildren, and day-to-day parenting. It causes prisoners
guilt and constant worry about being unable to care for
children and elderly or ill parents. In many cases, because
of their sentences, prisoners serving LWOP are barred
from attending the funerals of their parents and children,

186 American Civil Liberties Union

compounding the grief they experience when a loved one
dies. Some prisoners who have served more than a decade in
prison told the ACLU that they are completely isolated and
bereft of outside support or concern, as their family members
have died off and they have not had a visitor or contact to call
outside prison walls for years.
Libert Roland, who is serving LWOP for possession of more
than 28 grams of cocaine, told the ACLU of being separated
from his mother, sister, nieces, and nephews, “To remember
some of the funny times, the sad times, you start to feel your
eyes getting watery; sometimes you can stop the tears, but
most of the time you cannot, and it hurts so badly to know
you will never be there with them ever again.”1379 His sister
died of cancer after he was incarcerated. Roland explains, “I
could not be there to tell her I love her when she needed to
hear it. I could not be with my mother when she need[ed] a
shoulder to cry on, to hold my mother…It just hurts you so
deeply inside, and there is no way you [can] give back to them
or show them your love by being in here.”1380
Darrell Smith, who was sentenced to LWOP at age 25 after
police found 25 crack rocks in his home, told the ACLU, “I
just want my mama. Yes, I’m a big mama’s baby. I’m her only
child, so I just want my mama…just being away from my
mom all these years has killed me, I live in darkness every
day here.”1381 Eric Robinson, a former cocaine addict who
is serving LWOP for snatching a purse that contained an
ID card and miscellaneous items but no money, says, “No
pain has cut deeper, no sorrow has been more profound,
than being away from my family.”1382 Ricky Carthan, who
has served more than 15 years of his LWOP sentence for
possession of stolen junk metal, says of being separated from
his mother and three children, “It is [the] most lonely feeling
I [have] ever felt, only being around strangers.”1383 Of being
separated from family, Alonzo Jason said, “I guess if I had to
describe it, it will be like waking up in the morning knowing
that you got the wrong leg cut off at the hospital.”1384
Dicky Joe Jackson, a father of three who was incarcerated
when his youngest son was only five years old and was
married to his wife for 19 years until they divorced after
he lost his last appeal, says he loves his family “beyond
description.”1385 He said that the monthly 300-minute limit
on non-legal calls is not enough time to speak with his three
children and three grandchildren, with whom he speaks

every two or three days. He told the ACLU, “That’s what’s so
contradictory about this prison system; they say that family
contacts are important, but they only give you five hours a
month to talk to your people and they charge outrageous
phone prices. And they limit you to only three times a week
for visits. It’s terrible that the person that you spent the last
19 years of your life with can only give you a little peck on the
lips and sit down across from you—you can’t hold her hand
or put your arm around her. And then they ship you across
the country to 11,071 miles away.”1386

PRIsON CONDITIONs
Prisoners condemned to die in prison generally are housed
in maximum- and medium-security facilities with few
privileges, far away from any relatives. They are often
housed in overcrowded and dangerous prisons. They may
be confined to small cells and crowded group cells, receive
inadequate or subpar food and hygiene, and have limited
access to fresh air and sunlight. Their day-to-day lives
are marked by lack of privacy, shakedowns, lockdowns,
full-body searches, and extensive and intrusive control
over every aspect of their lives. They are sometimes held in
solitary confinement and punitive isolation, and they may
be confined to their cells for long periods during lockdowns.
They witness—and constantly fear—violence, assault, sexual
abuse, and rape. They are surrounded by fights and constant
yelling from guards and other inmates. They confront the
animosity of correctional staff, some of whom humiliate
and mistreat them at times. They suffer delays in receiving
medical care and necessary medication, and they often receive
inadequate mental health care and drug treatment services.
They work prison jobs that pay only 2 cents to $1.15 an hour,
and they have to pay exploitative telephone rates that can
be 15 times higher than regular rates.1387 They have limited
access, if any, to computers, prison libraries, and useful legal
resources.

Violence
More than 75 percent (76.9 percent) of the prisoners
surveyed by the ACLU reported that they had been assaulted
or had witnessed other prisoners being assaulted, raped, or

Prisoners serving LWOP are
often housed in overcrowded
and dangerous prisons, far
away from any relatives. They
may be confined to small
cells and crowded group
cells, receive subpar food and
hygiene, and have limited
access to fresh air and sunlight.
killed in acts of prison violence while serving their sentences.
Many reported witnessing stabbings and severe beatings,
which they described as being part of everyday prison life;
some reported witnessing murders and rapes. Some also
reported witnessing prison guards assault inmates. Several
were victims of stabbings, beatings, and sexual assaults
themselves, and they complained of prison guards’ failures
to protect them from attacks by other inmates. Many of the
prisoners with whom the ACLU spoke or corresponded had
never been convicted of a violent crime nor witnessed such
violence before being incarcerated, and they reported being
shocked and traumatized by the violence they have been
exposed to in prison.
Ignatzio Giuliano, who is 78 years old and has served 23 years
of his LWOP sentence for a nonviolent drug crime, told the
ACLU:
I witnessed some of the most brutal crimes.
Once, I was waiting to use the phone when
an inmate asked another inmate to get off the
phone. He was told to get lost. He left and came
back a few minutes later, grabbed the inmate by
the back of his hair, and cut his throat; blood
flew everywhere. One night, while I was sleeping
a loud scream woke me up. An inmate who was
sleeping in the bed next to mine was stabbed to
death. Another time, I was eating lunch in the
dining room when the door swung open and
an inmate was chasing another inmate with

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 187

a knife. The inmate ran to my table and dove
under it. The one with the knife belly-flopped
on top of the table and stabbed the one under
the table. The floor was covered with blood. The
staff carried off the two inmates and everyone
continued eating again like nothing happened. It
was like a side show. Things like this go on all the
time.1388
Paul Free, who has served 18 years of an LWOP sentence
for nonviolent marijuana trafficking, said, “I have seen men
with their throats cut, their bellies cut open with their guts
hanging out…and I have seen men with knives stuck deep
into their skulls and more. I have seen men stomped into
vegetative states and with all their teeth kicked out. A man
died in my arms.”1389
Jason Hernandez, who has served more than 15 years of an
LWOP sentence for his involvement in a drug conspiracy
starting when he was only 15 years old, and whose brother
was stabbed to death while imprisoned for the same drug
conspiracy, told the ACLU:
I was sent to Beaumont when I was 21 years
old. I was the youngest person there…I saw
people being stabbed and being raped. It was a
shock to me, but it’s prison; this is what goes on
here. When my brother passed away, my whole
life changed right there, and I realized this is
not normal. People don’t stab people. When
you see something happen so much, when you
see people stabbed constantly, you become
desensitized to it. It changed me. I [had] never
seen heroin till I got to prison. I [had] never seen
a man die till I got to prison. I [had] never heard
or seen people get raped till I got to prison.
But it’s normal in the environment of [federal
prisons].1390
Jesse Webster told the ACLU, “I’ve seen guys get beat with
bricks, get their heads smashed in. I’ve seen guys get slashed
with razors across the face while watching TV. A lot of
gruesome stuff…You see a lot, a lot of that stuff you don’t
even want to remember it. ”1391 Euka Wadlington told the
ACLU that he has witnessed simple arguments over the
television end in a prisoner’s death and has seen “all types of

188 American Civil Liberties Union

“

People get raped and killed
in front of me. It’s stressful; I’m
at the most dangerous prison
in South Carolina because of
my sentence when I should be
around nonviolent offenders.”
—Lloyd Wright

violence from gang stabbings and killing to one-on-one fights
that led to serious bodily harm or death.”1392 Lloyd Wright,
who is serving LWOP for selling $50 worth of crack cocaine
to an undercover officer within a half-mile of a school,
said, “People get rape[d] and kill[ed] in front of me. It’s
stressful; I’m at the most dangerous prison in South Carolina
because of my sentence when I should be around nonviolent
offenders.”1393 Anthony Jerome Jackson told the ACLU, “This
one guy stab[bed] two guys. I think about that all the time. It
could happen to me.”1394

solitary Confinement
Prisoners serving LWOP for nonviolent offenses reported
being held in solitary confinement for periods ranging
from a few days to 13 or 14 years at a time. In addition,
they described being confined to six-by-eight-foot or six
by-twelve-foot cells for months at a time due to lockdowns.
Sixty-three percent of prisoners surveyed by the ACLU
reported being held in solitary confinement while serving
their LWOP sentences. Twenty-nine percent of the prisoners
who reported being held in solitary confinement said that
they have been held in isolation for longer than one year at a
time. Seventy-three percent of the prisoners who had spent
time in solitary confinement reported having been held in
isolation for longer than one month at a time.
Despite his bipolar disorder, for which he has been
hospitalized at seven different mental health institutions,
Timothy Tyler has been held in solitary confinement many
times, primarily “for investigation.”1395 He said, “They

can place you there for three months for no explainable
reason.”1396 Tyler has served nearly 21 years of his LWOP
sentence, and he told the ACLU that he “lost [his] mind”
after his first ten years in prison. After more than a decade
in prison, he was transferred to the U.S. Medical Center for
Federal Prisoners in Springfield, Missouri, for mental health
treatment for a year, before he was returned to prison.1397
Recently, Tyler was held in isolation due to an indefinite
prison-wide lockdown following the murder of a prison
guard. As a result of the stress of isolation and being deprived
essential contact with his family, Tyler suffered a mental
breakdown in March 2013, in which he was banging his head
against the walls, singing at the top of his lungs while naked,
and spreading feces on himself.
Vincent Carnell Hudson, who was sentenced to LWOP for
a trace amount of cocaine invisible to the naked eye found
in his pockets, was imprisoned at the Mississippi State
Penitentiary at Parchman in October 2008 in good health; he
was well enough to work in the cafeteria. In September 2009,
he was placed in solitary confinement as a disciplinary action
for having a cell phone in his possession. After his two- to
three-week confinement, 61-year-old Hudson emerged frail,
weak, and suffering from severe pneumonia. According to
the Southeastern Christian Association, he complained that
he could hardly walk, and for three weeks he was treated
at the prison infirmary, where he coded twice. He was
transferred to a hospital, where he was placed on a respirator,
underwent dialysis, and required insertion of a feeding tube
over the course of his four-week hospitalization. Following
his return to the prison infirmary in December 2009, he was
unable to walk, speak, see, or eat. He still had a tracheostomy
and feeding tube inserted, and he was partially paralyzed
and incontinent. In early 2010, his family reported that he
appeared to be malnourished and dehydrated, and they
feared for his life.
Dicky Joe Jackson was held in solitary for five months after
he found a tool in a machine at work and turned it in; he says
that because prison officials “didn’t believe a lifer would do
that,” they held him in isolation while they investigated the
claim.1398 Jackson reports he has had a perfect disciplinary
record over the 17 years he has been incarcerated. Jimmy
Cochran, who is serving LWOP for attempting suicide in his
ex-girlfriend’s house, reported that he has been in solitary

confinement for two years for witnessing an attempted
murder in the prison and refusing to make a statement.1399

Restricted Access to Drug
Treatment, Vocational, and
Educational Programs
“People going home get priority over everything.
Lifers are put on the back burner for every
program.”1400
—Earl Crum, 54, who is serving LWOP for
stealing $34
As a matter of policy, some prisons categorically deny
drug treatment, counseling, vocational and educational
programs, and other rehabilitative services to prisoners
who are sentenced to die in prison and are ineligible for
parole.1401 Other prisons limit LWOP prisoners’ access to
such rehabilitative services on account of their sentences.1402
Prisoners incarcerated in state prisons particularly confront
few opportunities for education, meaningful work, or
productive programs or activities. Many of the LWOP
prisoners with whom the ACLU spoke or corresponded
reported that other prisoners with release dates are prioritized
for programming, which leaves lifers waiting for years to
enroll in GED classes, enter much-needed intensive drug
treatment, obtain prison jobs, or receive vocational training.
Twenty-eight percent of prisoners surveyed by the ACLU
reported being denied access to drug treatment, vocational,
or educational programs in prison. This number varied
substantially between jurisdictions. In Florida, more than half
(51 percent) of prisoners surveyed reported having difficulty
accessing rehabilitative programs in prison.
Among prisoners with whom the ACLU spoke or
corresponded, the most common complaint was lack of
access to drug treatment programs, particularly in the cases
of prisoners sentenced to LWOP for drug offenses. Onrae
Williams, who was sentenced to LWOP at age 23 for sale of
0.3 grams of crack cocaine, told the ACLU that although
he has struggled with drug addiction and would like to
participate in the drug treatment program offered at the
South Carolina state prison where he is incarcerated, he
is ineligible because he will never be paroled from prison.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 189

He said, “They don’t really allow you [to participate in]
any programs here. I mean, even with this drug conviction,
they don’t help me deal with the situation at hand. I mean,
it’s supposed to be rehabilitation, but I feel they avoid the
issue…. I still deal with the issues, as far as, I still deal with the
issue of drugs…. I feel I need to get help for it.”1403
Prisoners serving life without parole in Florida state prisons
reported that they are not prioritized for GED classes because
of their sentences. For example, Antawn Tyrone Bolden, a
31-year-old high school dropout incarcerated in a Florida
state prison, told the ACLU that he has tried to get his GED
several times, but prison officials have told him that prisoners
with sentences of five years or less have priority, and as a lifer
he has been unable to enroll in the program.1404 “They treat
lifers like we are below earth,” he says.1405
Other prisoners reported being denied access to vocational
programs, which particularly weighed on prisoners who
have been incarcerated for years with no opportunities for
self-improvement. Leland Dodd, who has served 22 years of
his LWOP sentence for trying to buy 50 pounds of marijuana
from an undercover officer, told the ACLU that because
of the length of his sentence, he is ineligible for any of the
vocational programs offered at Oklahoma State Reformatory
or the Oklahoma Correctional Industries (OCI) jobs available
to other prisoners.1406 He said, “I can’t work at OCI, can’t take
a vocational training course, I can’t improve my life, I can’t
go to work and get a job because of my sentence. I’ve got too
much time, I don’t qualify for none of the programs.”1407 He
says that he would love to take any of the classes: “Anything—
just learn something. I got nothing to do with my time, I’d
like to do something.”1408 German Gonzalez, who is serving
LWOP for armed burglary, said that his life in a Florida state
prison is “a miserable existence that has no purpose because
no rehabilitation program exist[s].”1409

LIMITED JUDICIAL REVIEW Of

DEATH-IN-PRIsON sENTENCEs
�
“I don’t understand how my constitutional
rights are not retroactive.”1410
— Scott Walker, 41, who has served 16 years of a
life-without-parole sentence after 500 grams of
marijuana were seized from him
LWOP and other death-in-prison sentences do not receive
the same heightened judicial scrutiny and legal protections
afforded to capital defendants.1411 Additional precautions
are taken in capital cases—at least in theory, though not
always in practice—because of the gravity and permanency
of the punishment, yet even with these protections the death
penalty is irretrievably flawed, applied to the innocent, and
plagued by significant problems. The quality of counsel in
capital cases is more scrutinized, and the underlying legal and
factual issues usually get closer review. Unlike death penalty
cases, LWOP sentences receive no special consideration on
appeal, which limits the possibility they will be reduced
or reversed. In most states, a person sentenced to die in
prison is not provided any court-appointed attorneys after
their one automatic appeal is complete, usually within two
years of the initial sentence; in contrast, most states, but
not all, do provide attorneys to death-sentenced habeas
petitioners. Appeals to the highest state court are not
guaranteed in LWOP cases, as they often are in death penalty
cases.1412 Mandatory sentences are not permissible in death
penalty cases,1413 while mandatory LWOP sentences are not
only common in most states and the federal system, but
the mandatory nature of these sentences can also cause
important factors in a case or about a defendant to be
overlooked on appeal.1414
Accordingly, in LWOP cases there are fewer exonerations and
reversals due to trial errors.1415 The lack of heightened judicial
review and legal protections in LWOP cases increases the
likelihood that innocent people will be wrongly punished.
While LWOP and other death-in-prison sentences are plainly
not the same as capital punishment, they are severe in their
own right, and some legal experts have recommended
enhanced judicial scrutiny and procedural protections for
sentences that result in the incarceration of defendants for the
rest of their natural lives.1416

190 American Civil Liberties Union

Because capital cases involve the ultimate sanction of death,
capital defendants generally have the right to state-appointed
counsel for their post-conviction appeals. Yet beyond the
first appeal, people fighting their death sentences have no
constitutional right to a lawyer, and the quality of available
counsel can be as abysmal in these appeals as it is at the trial
level.1417 Because the death penalty is a grievous violation of
human rights, independent offices have arisen to provide
legal representation and lawyers have volunteered to take
on capital cases pro bono. For defendants sentenced to
LWOP, in most jurisdictions there is no right to counsel in
any post-conviction proceedings, and the majority of the
prisoners serving LWOP with whom the ACLU spoke or
corresponded were unable to afford an attorney to represent

LWOP prisoners cannot have
their sentences retroactively
reviewed and reduced under
Supreme Court decisions
ruling that the way in which
they were sentenced is
unconstitutional, even though
they would receive shorter
prison terms if sentenced today
rather than under previous
sentencing regimes.
them in their post-conviction appeals.1418 The ACLU reviewed
post-conviction appeals handwritten by LWOP prisoners who
struggled to get adequate access to prison legal libraries, are
barely literate, plainly could not make sense of complicated
caselaw and procedural rules, failed to comprehensibly
explain the facts and legal issues in their case, or whose
appeals were rejected on grounds that could have been
successfully addressed by a competent lawyer.
Many prisoners whose cases the ACLU documented were
unable to afford an attorney to assist them with their
post-conviction appeals and said they were frustrated that

they have no right to a court-appointed lawyer for their
post-conviction appeals. Leland Dodd told the ACLU, “The
sentence I got, I don’t get a lawyer to handle my appeals. I get
no appeals, I can’t afford justice!”1419 Moreover, in many states
there is no automatic right to records, such as police and
prosecutor files, that might contain important evidence. Only
a lawyer or an investigator can obtain these documents, and
they generally require a fee.
There is low likelihood that an LWOP or other death-in
prison sentence will be reversed, in part due to the lack
of competent counsel in such cases. The reversal rate for
noncapital cases is estimated to be about 10 to 20 percent,
far below the capital reversal rate of roughly 68 percent.1420
Data also shows that about 80 percent of federal criminal
appeals are denied or otherwise resolved against the
prisoner.1421 In the context of federal habeas corpus review
for state-sentenced petitioners, a 1990 report prepared for the
American Bar Association noted that the rate of habeas relief
granted in prisoners’ favor in non-capital cases was estimated
at only 7 percent or less, while the rate in capital cases where
courts reached the merits of the habeas corpus petitions
was more than 73 percent between 1976 and 1983 (however,
the rate of habeas corpus relief decided in favor of deathsentenced prisoners has since dropped due to more recent
limitations on prisoners’ access to habeas relief).1422 One
study of LWOP sentences concluded, “Given the failure rate
of noncapital appeals, not to mention the infrequency with
which they are filed, the vast majority of life-without-parole
prisoners have almost no chance of having their sentences
reversed.”1423
Opportunities for post-conviction appeals have been
significantly reduced for all criminal defendants over the past
three decades. In both capital and non-capital cases, prisoners
also have a limited ability to raise claims of innocence. When
new evidence of innocence emerges, prisoners in most states
face strict time limits barring them from having their cases
reopened. These time limits before which innocence claims
must be filed range from 21 days to three years.1424
Because Congress has limited post-conviction legal
challenges from prisoners, it is difficult—and in some
cases impossible—to return to court to make the case for a
sentence reduction. The Antiterrorism and Effective Death
Penalty Act (AEDPA) of 1996, a strict federal statute, limits

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 191

prisoners from appealing their cases and challenging their
convictions or sentences.1425 AEDPA can bar prisoners from
appealing even when new evidence of innocence emerges,
from challenging serious errors of law, or from raising claims
of ineffective assistance of counsel. As a result, criminal
defendants who are later able to present evidence establishing
their innocence that may not have been available at the
time of trial, and that could have led to a different result if
it had been presented, are left with no recourse. In addition,
many defendants who have suffered serious constitutional
violations, such as racially discriminatory jury selection or
suppression of exculpatory evidence, have been left without
federal judicial recourse.
Moreover, prisoners are also unable to have their sentences
retroactively reviewed and reduced under Supreme Court
decisions ruling that the way in which they were sentenced is
unconstitutional, even though prisoners would be sentenced
to shorter prison terms if sentenced today rather than under
previous sentencing regimes.
For example, many prisoners have been barred from taking
advantage of United States v. Booker, a 2005 Supreme Court
ruling that struck down the mandatory nature of the
sentencing guidelines used to incarcerate them, in some cases
for the rest of their lives.1426 In Booker, the Court ruled that
the Sixth Amendment right to jury trial requires that, other
than a prior conviction, only facts admitted by a defendant or
proved beyond a reasonable doubt to a jury may be used to
calculate a sentence, whether the defendant has pleaded guilty
or been convicted at trial. The maximum sentence a judge
may impose is a sentence based upon the facts admitted by
the defendant or proved to a jury beyond a reasonable doubt.
Prisoners have similarly been unable to have their sentences
retroactively reviewed based on Apprendi v. New Jersey, a 2000
Supreme Court ruling giving jurors an enhanced role when
their verdicts trigger the fixing of sentences.1427 In Apprendi,
the Court required that any fact that increases the penalty for
a crime beyond the prescribed statutory maximum must be
submitted to a jury and proved beyond a reasonable doubt,
not decided by the judge.
In a number of the federal LWOP cases documented by the
ACLU, each of the defendants’ guideline ranges was based
upon a quantity of drugs determined by the judge using
a preponderance of the evidence standard and not by a

192 American Civil Liberties Union

jury using the beyond a reasonable doubt standard. Their
sentencing judges determined the quantity of drugs by
adopting the quantities speculated during the trials by the
government. However, because the decision in Booker was not
retroactive, these defendants do not have a remedy for their
constitutional violations. In these cases, if the constitutional
law in Booker had been in effect during their sentencing, there
is a great possibility that the juries could have found them
each guilty of significantly lower quantities of drugs, thus
resulting in shorter sentences.
In interviews and correspondence with the ACLU, prisoners
consistently expressed their frustration with being denied
access to the courts. For example, like many other federal
prisoners, Michael Lloyd Cummings, a decorated Vietnam
War veteran and drug addict caught with less than a gram of
methamphetamine, lost his appeal and was denied further
access to the courts by the Anti-Terrorism and Effective Death
Penalty Act. He told the ACLU, “The hardest part is knowing
that the courts have ruled that what took place at my trial
is unconstitutional but doesn’t apply to me because it’s not
retroactive. How can something be unconstitutional today
but not yesterday?”1428

VIRTUALLY NO CHANCE
Of CLEMENCY OR
COMPAssIONATE RELEAsE
Because of the elimination or significant reduction of
post-conviction appeals and procedures that could be used to
reduce LWOP sentences, commutations—a form of executive
clemency that empowers a governor or president to shorten
sentences—are the sole means of leaving prison for many
prisoners. For prisoners who are near the end of their lives
and dying of terminal illnesses, compassionate release offers

Only one federal prisoner
serving LWOP has received a
presidential commutation in
the last 20 years.

another possibility for leaving prison before their deaths.
Unfortunately, U.S. presidents and state governors have
virtually stopped granting clemency, and the Federal Bureau
of Prisoners has sharply limited compassionate release,
leaving lifers who have exhausted their appeals with virtually
no chance of being released from prison alive.
Over the past three decades, presidential grants of federal
clemency have dropped even as prisoners’ clemency requests
have risen.1429 Only one federal prisoner serving LWOP has
received a presidential commutation in the last 20 years;
the nonviolent drug offender’s sentence was commuted
by former President George W. Bush.1430 President Barack
Obama has granted clemency at a lower rate than that of
any modern president, and he has commuted only one
sentence since taking office.1431 Most recently, he denied 1,500
commutation petitions on February 28, 2013. Given President
Obama’s commutation record, a commutation applicant’s
chance to have their federal sentence reduced is just under 1
in 5,000. During the presidencies of former Presidents Ronald
Reagan and Bill Clinton, applicants for commutations had a
1 in 100 chance of success.1432 Under former President George
W. Bush, applicants had a 1 in 1,000 chance of having their
sentences commuted.1433
State governors have been similarly reluctant to grant
commutations, and in recent decades there has been a decline
in commutations at the state level, while the number of
people being sentenced has rapidly risen. The vast majority
of governors have denied almost all clemency petitions
submitted by prisoners for reduction of their sentences,
granting only a handful of commutations in the past
decade.1434 In the past two decades, only a few governors have
utilized their pardon power to grant dozens or even hundreds
of pardons and commutations.1435 In most states, the state
governor holds the power to grant clemency to prisoners and
generally has the option of seeking the advice of a pardon or
parole board.1436 In several states, only a parole or executive
clemency board can grant clemency, and the governor is
not involved; these states generally have the highest and
most consistent clemency rates.1437 In some states, the
governor may grant clemency only after receiving a positive
recommendation from a parole or clemency board, and some
states require that the governor be a member of the parole or
clemency board.1438

President Barack Obama
has granted clemency at a
lower rate than that of any
modern president: he has
commuted only one sentence
since taking office.
The Federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP) has sharply limited
the grounds for compassionate release, and only a miniscule
number of compassionate release requests are granted each
year.1439 Under the Department of Justice’s “death-rattle
rule,” compassionate release requests are granted solely to
terminally ill prisoners who have received a medical diagnosis
of death within a year and are facing imminent death, or who
are profoundly and irremediably incapacitated.1440 Prisoners
cannot seek compassionate release for extraordinary and
compelling circumstances directly from the courts; only the
BOP has the authority to file a motion with a court to request
judicial consideration of early release. Research by Human
Rights Watch and Families Against Mandatory Minimums
has found that the BOP rarely does so; though more than
218,000 prisoners are housed in the federal prison system, in
2011, the BOP filed only 30 motions for early release.1441 The
annual average of prisoners who have received compassionate
release has been fewer than two dozen since 1992.1442
After conducting a comprehensive review of BOP’s
compassionate release program, the Department of Justice
Office of Inspector General (OIG) identified “multiple
failures” and concluded that the program “has been poorly
managed and implemented inconsistently” by BOP, “resulting
in inmates who may be eligible candidates for release not
being considered” and in “terminally ill inmates dying before
their requests were decided.”1443 The OIG study also found
that approximately 13 percent (28 of 208) of the inmates
whose release requests had been approved by a prison warden
and regional director died before their requests were even
decided by the BOP director.1444

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 193

VIII. The

financial Cost of sentencing
Nonviolent Offenders to Life without
Parole

“W

e talk about the costs to
incarcerate someone who’s not
gonna hurt you again, who
just hurts himself, you know, the nonviolent
criminal…But let’s talk about the costs once
we rehabilitate him and he’s good to go. We’re
gonna still spend like 60 to 90 dollars a day,
depending on what area of the country he’s in…
It costs a lot—it’s like staying in a motel. So we’re
going to put him up in the motel the rest of his
life, feed him three meals a day…He gets any
illness, I got to do the same level of care that you
have for the public…Look at all the costs. I’m
flowing out the seams…And so, it’s ridiculous. I
mean, we should just have the [parole] hearings
so we can just cut back the ones that you don’t
need to do all that for…It’s just costs, costs,
costs, costs…there’s no end to it…till death do
us part.”1445
— Burl Cain, Warden, Louisiana State

Penitentiary at Angola

“The public out there is trying to raise their
kids and they’re paying to house us in prison
for nonviolent offenses. It doesn’t make sense.
You’re paying for these guys not to go to
work, not to pay taxes, instead of them being
productive citizens… The government is taking
money from education to house nonviolent
prisoners.”1446
— William Dufries, 55, who has served 10 years
of his life-without-parole sentence for trafficking
marijuana and is imprisoned at a cost to
Oklahoma taxpayers of $18,467 per year

The ACLU estimates that the total fiscal cost-savings to
taxpayers if state and federal sentencing statutes were revised
to eliminate nonviolent offenses for eligibility for LWOP

194 American Civil Liberties Union

sentences would be at least $1.784 billion. This figure is
a Middle Estimate within a range from a Low Estimate
of $1.151 billion to a High Estimate of $2.299 billion in
taxpayer savings. This figure covers the cost of imprisoning
the prisoners currently serving LWOP for nonviolent crimes;
it does not take into account the cost of incarcerating people
who will be sentenced to LWOP in the future.
This section of this report calculates three estimates of the
total fiscal cost-savings to taxpayers if state and federal
sentencing statutes were revised to eliminate nonviolent
offenses for eligibility for life-without-parole sentences,
denoted as the following: (1) Low Estimate, (2) Middle
Estimate, and (3) High Estimate. For the reasons provided
below, the Middle Estimate of $1.784 billion is set forth as the
best estimate of the total fiscal cost-savings of eliminating life
without parole as a possible sentence for a nonviolent offense.
The ACLU’s economic analysis of the fiscal cost of LWOP
sentencing laws and policies are conservative estimates. This
data considers only the fiscal impact on state and federal
corrections budgets and does not in any way account for
additional costs incurred beyond the correctional system,
such as reduction in labor force, reduction in tax revenue,
increases in health care needs due to physical harm
caused by incarceration, and underemployment in already
economically-depressed neighborhoods. Furthermore,

AVERAGE YEARLY COST OF AN

ELDERLY PRISONER

$60–70,000

no consideration is made for the indirect effects of these
highly punitive sanctions, such as the impact upon family or
communities, primarily because, in practice, such effects are
extremely difficult to quantify or measure with accuracy or
precision.
In a case affirming a 50-year sentence for a producer of child
pornography who would be 96 years old when released from
prison, Judge Richard Posner noted some of the additional
downstream costs of incarcerating prisoners until they die, as
well as the increasing costs to incarcerate prisoners as they age:
Federal imprisonment is expensive to the
government; the average expense of maintaining
a federal prisoner for a year is between $25,000
and $30,000, and the expense rises steeply
with the prisoner’s age because the medical
component of a prisoner’s expense will rise with
his age, especially if he is still alive in his 70s (not
to mention his 80s or 90s). It has been estimated
that an elderly prisoner costs the prison system
between $60,000 and $70,000 a year…. [I]f freed
before they became elderly, and employed, they
would have contributed to the Medicare and
Medicaid programs through payroll taxes—
which is a reminder of an additional social cost
of imprisonment: the loss of whatever income
the prisoner might lawfully have earned had he
been free, income reflecting his contribution to
society through lawful employment.1447
The cost of sentencing nonviolent offenders to LWOP
accounts for a portion of ballooning federal and state costs
to incarcerate too many prisoners for far too long. In a 2009
study, the Pew Center on the States estimated that total
corrections spending has reached $68 billion, an increase of
336 percent since 1986. In the past 20 years, state spending
on prisons has increased at six times the rate of spending on
higher education.1448 In Michigan, the state government now
spends more on corrections than on higher education.
At a time when budgets are tight and states are struggling
to cut costs, paying to permanently incarcerate nonviolent
offenders gobbles up scarce budgetary resources. Spending
increasing amounts of money on imprisoning nonviolent
offenders for the rest of their lives means less money for the

institutions that could help young people stay out of trouble,
including education, drug treatment, job training, and
community policing programs.

METHODOLOGY
�
This report seeks to estimate the total amount of corrections
expenditures that would be saved by taxpayers if state
and federal sentencing statutes were revised to eliminate
nonviolent offenses for eligibility for a life-without-parole
sentence. Contrary to various forms of economic impact
analyses that are required in most states in connection with
the implementation of a new regulation or law,1449 this
report does not provide an estimate of the projected annual
fiscal cost-savings over the next five years if a jurisdiction
were to adopt the sentencing recommendations set forth in
this report (i.e., were to revise sentencing statutes so as to
eliminate nonviolent offenses for eligibility for life without
parole).
Rather, this report seeks to estimate how much will be spent,
in total, to incarcerate those individuals currently serving
a life-without-parole sentence and compares this amount
to how much we believe would have been spent, in the
alternative, to incarcerate these individuals if life without
parole had not been available as a possible sentence for a
nonviolent offense. In other words, under a specific set of
assumptions, it would be possible to calculate the annual
fiscal cost-savings of eliminating life without parole as a
possible sentence for all nonviolent offenses. In order to
avoid making strong assumptions regarding the long-run
dynamics of future prison growth, however, this report has
chosen, instead, to estimate the total cost-savings to state and
federal taxpayers if all prison inmates who are currently in
state or federal prisons serving life-without-parole sentences
had been sentenced under a sentencing regime in which
nonviolent offenses were automatically ineligible for life
without parole.
In particular, for each jurisdiction in our analysis, data was
collected on the average age of admittance of all nonviolent
offenders serving life without parole. These ages range from
a low of 32 years in Florida to a high of 48 years in Illinois.
Data was also collected on the average current age of all
nonviolent offenders serving life without parole, with average

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 195

current ages ranging from a low of 45 years in Florida to a
high of 54 years in Illinois. Using this data, it is possible to
calculate, with the help of a life expectancy calculator created
by the Social Security Administration, the additional life
expectancy of an average adult male for any given date of
birth.1450 With this general population data, the average life
expectancy of the prison population serving life without
parole for a nonviolent offense was calculated for each
jurisdiction considered in our analysis under the assumption
that a sentence of twenty years reduces an inmate’s life
expectancy by an average of 16 years;1451 specifically, the
additional life expectancy was calculated as the intersection of
years lived and decreasing life expectancy.

It is generally not disputed that the life expectancy of an
incarcerated individual is lower than the life expectancy of a
non-incarcerated individual in the general U.S. population.
The brutal stress and anxiety of prison life, including
separation from family, friends, and loved ones, severe
physical confinement, limited access to proper healthcare,
and the perpetual threat of victimization,1454 in addition
to the crushing reality that the remainder of one’s life will
be spent behind prison bars, serve to exacerbate the risk of
physical and mental illness and dramatically accelerate the
aging process.1455 Specifically, in this report, consistent with
a large number of social science studies, a prison inmate is
classified as “aging” or “elderly” if he or she is 50 years of age
or older.1456

The total cost-savings to
taxpayers if sentencing statutes
were revised to eliminate
nonviolent offenses for
eligibility for LWOP sentences
would be at least $1.784
billion. This figure does not
take into account the cost
of incarcerating people who
will be sentenced to LWOP in
the future.

To calculate the costs of incarceration, the preceding life
expectancy calculations are combined with data on annual
prison costs.1457 In this report, data on the total state cost
of prisons is primarily drawn from a recent study by the
Vera Institute of Justice that found that the total taxpayer
cost of prisons is often not fully reflected or recorded in a
state’s corrections budget. Indeed, in a number of states,
such as Illinois or Missouri, the proportion of total state cost
falling outside the state’s corrections budgets is substantial
(e.g., 32.5 percent and 25.9 percent in Illinois and Missouri,
respectively).1458 With respect to the forty states that
participated in its study, the Vera Institute estimated that the
true total taxpayer cost of prisons is approximately 14 percent
higher than the cost reflected in those states’ combined
corrections budgets.1459 Using the Vera Institute’s estimates,
the average annual cost per inmate used in the following
analysis ranges from a low of $17,285 per inmate in Alabama
to a high of $38,268 per inmate in Illinois.1460

So, for example, the average age of admittance for the entire
sample was 36; the average current age of the entire sample
was 46. At age 46, the average life expectancy of a typical adult
male in the United States is 82 years.1452 Assuming that every
twenty years spent in prison reduces life expectancy by 16
years, it is straightforward to show that the life expectancy of
the entire sample is, therefore, equal to 61.5 years of age. In
particular, the life expectancies calculated for the jurisdictions
in our analysis range from a low of 59.9 years in Florida to a
high of 67.2 years in Illinois—these estimates are consistent
with findings presented in other research.1453

196 American Civil Liberties Union

The annual incarceration cost per inmate in the federal
prison system, which was not examined in the Vera Institute
study, is taken directly from annual financial statements
disclosed by the Federal Bureau of Prisons, and is equal to
$28,893 per inmate.1461
Furthermore, the costs borne by the state taxpayer in
connection with the incarceration of an aging or elderly
prison population are substantially higher. The National
Institute of Corrections, for instance, estimates the
incarceration costs of an aging prisoner at two times
the incarceration costs of a non-aging prisoner.1462 The

Our estimate assumes that
the time served in state prison
would have been 12 to 15 years
and the time served in federal
prison would have been 15 to
18 years. We subtracted the
costs of these prison terms to
arrive at our final figure.
relatively high incarceration costs of aging or elderly
prisoners, as defined in this report (i.e., at least 50 years of
age), largely derive from increased staffing and healthcare
needs. Specifically, there are at least three reasons why a
disproportionate share of prison healthcare expenditures is
devoted to the aging or elderly prison population. First and
foremost, aging or elderly prisoners are relatively more likely
to suffer from a variety of medical conditions that require
direct contact with healthcare providers/professionals.1463
Compared to younger prison inmates, older inmates tend
to be in poorer health, especially with respect to chronic
conditions, substance abuse, and psychological disorders.
Second, not only do aging or elderly prisoners come into
contact with the prison healthcare system more frequently,
but the cost of each individual contact is relatively high, not
because the level of healthcare provided is superb—indeed,
most prisons offer only a constitutionally minimallyacceptable level of healthcare, meaning only that a prison
cannot show “deliberate indifference to serious medical
needs of prisoners”1464—but, rather, because the prison
environment is, by design, an extremely poor place to house
and care for individuals who are elderly, ill, or otherwise
disabled. Prison facilities, for example, typically do not
have the appropriate systems in place to monitor chronic
healthcare problems or to implement a wide array of useful
preventative measures. Also, correctional healthcare staff
members often lack the proper training and technical
expertise to treat age-related illnesses, such as hearing loss,
vision problems, arthritis, hypertension, and dementia.
Likewise, many prison facilities are not architecturally

designed for prison inmates who require special services
and devices, such as walkers, wheelchairs, and hearing or
breathing aids.1465
Finally, as a consequence of ill-designed facilities and
untrained healthcare staff, aging or elderly prisoners must
often leave the physical confines of the prison facility to
receive medical treatment. The government is obliged, in
connection with the provision of such off-site medical
treatment, to incur the resultant costs of transportation
as well as the medical costs of the specialized treatment
itself, in addition to the wages paid (often overtime pay) to
those correctional officers who must accompany the aging
or elderly prisoner at all times while outside the prison
complex.1466
To complete the analysis, it is necessary to posit a set of
counterfactual lengths of time-served based upon offense
category and jurisdiction. These lengths represent the
ACLU’s best guesses of the expected time served by a typical
nonviolent offender if the state and federal sentencing
statutes were revised to eliminate nonviolent offenses for
eligibility for life without parole. There is, admittedly, some
measure of uncertainty involved in doing so, and the three
estimates provided below reflect varying assumptions made
regarding the counterfactual length of time served. Moreover,
note that a distinction is made between individuals who
were sentenced under a habitual offender law and those who
were not; specifically, for a given nonviolent offense category,
the expected time served by an individual sentenced under
a habitual offender law is half the length of the expected
time served by an individual who was not sentenced to life
without parole under a habitual offender law. In addition,
the report assumes, for each separate category of nonviolent
offense, that average prison sentences (and, in turn, expected
average time served) in the federal prison system are
slightly longer than those in the state prison system—an
assumption supported by publicly available state and federal
data regarding length of imprisonment by primary offense
category.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 197

fIsCAL COsT-sAVINGs
EsTIMATEs
This subsection calculates three estimates of the fiscal costsavings to taxpayers if state and federal sentencing statutes
were revised to eliminate nonviolent offenses for eligibility
for life without parole, denoted as the following: (1) Low
Estimate, (2) Middle Estimate, and (3) High Estimate.
Specifically, on the basis of publicly available data on the
length of imprisonment by offense category, this report
assumes, in calculating the High Estimate, that the time
served in state prison by a typical nonviolent offender is 10
years for a drug offense, 8 years for a property offense, and
9 years for all other nonviolent offense categories.1467 Recall
that these sentences are reduced by half if an individual is
sentenced under a habitual offender law. Thus, the time
served in state prison by a typical nonviolent offender
sentenced under a habitual offender law is 5 years for a drug
offense, 4 years for a property offense, and 4.5 years for all
other nonviolent offenses. Likewise, this report assumes
that the time served in federal prison by a typical nonviolent
offender is 12 years for a drug offense, 10 years for a property
offense, and 11 years for all other categories of nonviolent
offenses.1468
The High Estimate represents, in our view, a plausible upper
bound on the total fiscal cost-savings of eliminating life
without parole as a possible sentence for nonviolent offenses,
and is equal to $2.299 billion.
fIGURE 12

Estimated fiscal cost-savings of eliminating LWOP for
nonviolent offenders currently serving LWOP

2,299,046,435
1,784,656,530
1,151,868,267

Source: ACLU fiscal impact analysis (2013)

198 American Civil Liberties Union

To calculate the Low Estimate, by contrast, the average
expected times served by state and federal prisoners for
the categories of nonviolent offenses set forth above are all
doubled. So, for instance, the Low Estimate assumes that the
time served by a typical nonviolent offender sentenced to life
without parole in state prison is 20 years for a drug offense,
16 years for a property offense, and 18 years for all other
nonviolent offenses. Likewise, the Low Estimate assumes that
the time served by a typical nonviolent offender sentenced
to life without parole in federal prison is 24 years for a drug
offense, 20 years for a property offense, and 22 years for all
other nonviolent offenses. Again, given available data, these
posited counterfactual lengths of time served based upon
offense category and jurisdiction are high in all likelihood.
The Low Estimate represents, in our view, a plausible lower
bound on the total fiscal cost-savings of eliminating life
without parole as a possible sentence for nonviolent offenses,
and is equal to $1.151 billion.
Finally, to calculate the Middle Estimate, the expected
average times served by state and federal prison inmates
for the categories of nonviolent offenses set forth above in
our discussion of the High Estimate are all increased by 50
percent (as opposed to 100 percent in our calculation of the
Low Estimate). So, for example, the Middle Estimate assumes
that the time served in state prison by a typical nonviolent
offender sentenced to life without parole is 15 years for a drug
offense, 12 years for a property offense, and 13.5 years for
all other nonviolent offense categories. Likewise, the Middle
Estimate assumes that the time served by a typical nonviolent
offender in federal prison sentenced to life without parole is
18 years for a drug offense, 15 years for a property offense,
and 16.5 years for all other categories of nonviolent offenses.
The Middle Estimate represents the ACLU’s best estimate of
the true total fiscal cost-savings to taxpayers of eliminating
life without parole as a possible sentence for nonviolent
offenses, and is equal to $1.784 billion.
The Middle Estimate is depicted graphically in Figure 12,
along with the Low and High Estimates for comparison.
Table 16 further reports the Low, Middle, and High Estimates
by individual jurisdiction.

TABLE 16

Estimated fiscal cost-saving of eliminating LWOP
for nonviolentoffenders currently serving LWOP, by
jurisdiction
Fiscal expenditures (in dollars)
Jurisdiction
Alabama
Federal
Florida
Illinois
Louisiana
Mississippi
Missouri
Oklahoma
South Carolina
Total

Low

Middle

High

94,931,152
706,894,080
133,815,296
0
131,149,680
41,437,320
605,933
6,263,798
36,771,008
1,151,868,267

114,994,720
1,222,164,608
153,620,992
3,486,641
183,327,904
47,821,264
661,808
15,312,628
43,265,964
1,784,656,530

128,835,680
1,645,405,696
172,611,968
7,313,442
219,021,024
53,113,308
717,683
24,243,822
47,783,812
2,299,046,435

Source: ACLU fiscal impact analysis (2013)

As expected, approximately two-thirds of the total estimated
cost-savings inures to the federal prison system, with over
$1.2 billion in projected fiscal cost-savings under the Middle
Estimate. The estimated cost-saving for a couple of the states
is substantially smaller, although the estimates for Missouri,
in particular, are notable in their own right insofar as these
estimates demonstrate how much can be saved even over
the expected lifetime of a single prison inmate serving life
without parole for a nonviolent offense.
In a number of states, however, the estimated total fiscal
cost-savings are quite large. For example, the Middle Estimate
suggests that Louisiana would save $180 million, in total, if
its sentencing statutes were revised to eliminate nonviolent
offenses for eligibility for life without parole. Although this
is a large number, especially considering the fact that the
general operating appropriations for “Corrections Services”
in Louisiana for the fiscal year 2012-2013 was approximately
$450 million,1469 it is a number that is intuitively plausible to
the extent that our analysis shows that a single nonviolent
offender currently serving life without parole in the Louisiana
State prison system will cost the Louisiana taxpayers
approximately half a million dollars, in total, over his or her
expected lifespan.1470

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 199

IX. Comparative

International Practice
and fundamental Rights to Humane
Treatment, Proportionate sentence,
and Rehabilitation

“T

he American prison system, where
the prisoner is condemned to serve
this wretched sentence…is a system
where the policies long ago shifted from the
potential redemption and rehabilitation of the
prisoner…These conditions demean the human
dignity of the prisoner, but as they reflect the
extent to which society will go in punishing
its prisoners, they reflect us all….The issue of
whether an individual should be sentenced to a
sentence of life without the possibility of parole
for a nonviolent offense is not one of justice but
rather a question of whether our morality as a
nation will allow us to accept this fate for any
human being.”1471
—Eric Hicks, 43, who has served 21 years of two
life sentences for racketeering and conspiracy to
possess crack cocaine with intent to distribute.
His only prior conviction was for unauthorized
use of a motor vehicle when he was 18 years old.

Life-without-parole sentences for nonviolent crimes
constitute disproportionately severe punishment that
violates human rights. Such sentences violate fundamental
rights to humane treatment, proportionate sentence, and
rehabilitation. Human rights law and principles have long
required proportionality between the seriousness of the
offense and the severity of the sentence. Under human rights
law, disproportionately severe sentences may constitute a
form of cruel, inhuman, or degrading punishment. Unjust
sentences can also constitute arbitrary deprivations of liberty
in violation of the right to liberty and are inconsistent with
respect for the inherent dignity of the individual. Human
rights law also guarantees that offenders have a right to be
rehabilitated and requires efforts to rehabilitate prisoners.

200 American Civil Liberties Union

Moreover, the United States is far out of step with the rest
of the world in its practice of sentencing individuals to life
in prison without the possibility of parole for nonviolent
crimes. The United States is among a minority of countries
(20 percent) known to have LWOP sentences, while the vast

The United States is virtually
alone in its willingness to
sentence people to die behind
bars for nonviolent crimes.
majority of countries that do provide for LWOP sentences
place stringent restrictions on when they can be issued and
limit their use to crimes of murder.1472 Such sentences are
rare in other countries and were recently ruled a violation of
human rights in a decision by the European Court of Human
Rights that would require an opportunity for review of the
sentences of the 49 prisoners serving LWOP in the United
Kingdom, all of whom were convicted of murder.1473

OUT Of sTEP WITH THE WORLD
�
The United States is virtually alone in its willingness to
sentence people to die behind bars for nonviolent crimes.
Nearly 100 countries have signed the Rome Statute, which
requires that all life sentences be reviewed after 25 years, even
for the most heinous offenses, such as war crimes and genocide.
A few countries have even legally abolished LWOP, and a
handful of European countries have no statutes that mention
life imprisonment, let alone LWOP, even for the most serious,

violent crimes.1474 According to a University of San Francisco
School of Law study, the per capita number of prisoners
serving LWOP sentences in the United States is 51 times
that of Australia, 173 times that of the United Kingdom,
and 29 times that of the Netherlands.1475 Even China and
Pakistan provide for a review of life sentences after 25 years’
imprisonment.
Commitment to the principles of the fundamental rights
to humane treatment, proportionate sentence, and
rehabilitation has led a large number of states to de jure or de
facto prohibit life-without-parole sentences. Croatia, Norway,
Portugal, Slovenia, and Spain make no legislative provisions
for life imprisonment at all.1476 In Croatia, the most severe
sanction is a sentence from 20 to 40 years, and conditional
release may be granted after one-half or one-third of this
exceptional sentence has been served. Three people were
sentenced to such exceptionally long-term imprisonment
between 1998 and 2001.1477 In Norway, the most severe
sanction is a determinate sentence of imprisonment for 21
years, and conditional release is possible after 12 years have
been served.1478 In Portugal, the maximum prison sentence
is for 25 years, exceptionally for 30 years.1479 Slovenian
legislation provides for a maximum of 30 years, but such a
sentence has never been imposed to date; prisoners serving
more than 15 years may be conditionally released after
three-quarters of the sentence has been served.1480 In Spain
the maximum sentence is imprisonment for 30 years. In
Iceland, the legislation provides for life sentences, but no
such sentence has been imposed since 1940.1481 LWOP is
also prohibited in the constitutions of a number of Latin
American countries.1482
Moreover, constitutional courts in Germany, France, Italy,
and Namibia have recognized that those subject to life

The per capita number of
prisoners serving LWOP
sentences in the United States
is 51 times that of Australia,
173 times that of the United
Kingdom, and 29 times that of
the Netherlands.
sentences “have a fundamental right to be considered for
release.”1483 As a result of these deeply held principles, Mexico
will not extradite persons to the United States if they will
face whole-life imprisonment,1484 and the European Union
is currently debating extending its policy of non-extradition
to the United States in cases where the death penalty may
be imposed to include a guarantee against the imposition of
LWOP sentences.1485 The Rome Statute of the International
Criminal Court (ICC) again serves as recent evidence of a
global consensus against LWOP. Despite the fact the ICC
prosecutes some of the world’s most dangerous offenders, the
maximum sentence provided for in the Rome Statute is life
imprisonment, and even that sentence must be reviewed after
25 years.1486
There also is a growing consensus in Europe against LWOP.1487
The United Kingdom and the Netherlands are the only two
countries in Europe that still sentence prisoners to LWOP.
European Court of Human Rights decisions in the cases
Vinter and Others v. UK (2013) and Harkins and Edwards
v. UK (2012) confirmed that the trend in Europe is moving
away from LWOP sentences. As of July 2013, there were only

MAXIMUM PRISON SENTENCES IN SELECTED COUNTRIES

CROATIA

NORWAY

PORTUGAL

SPAIN

SLOVENIA

20–40

25–30

YEARS

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 201

49 prisoners serving LWOP in England and Wales, all for
murder, but provisions for review of these sentences may
be enacted following the Vinter decision ruling that they
violate human rights.1488 While most European states do
prescribe some form of life imprisonment, offenders rarely
end up serving the full sentences.1489 For instance, in Sweden,
Bulgaria, and Ukraine, prisoners serving LWOP sentences
are able to petition for a pardon or clemency.1490 Moreover,
sentence appeals (by both the prosecution and the defense)
are available in England, Australia, and most Continental
systems.1491

The United States is among
a minority of countries—20
percent worldwide—known
to have LWOP sentences. The
vast majority of these countries
place stringent restrictions on
when LWOP sentences can be
issued and limit their use to
crimes of murder.
The European Union has renounced life without parole,
while also stating that “the present criminal policy in the EU
Member States…is moving towards keeping imprisonment
to an absolute minimum.”1492 In addition, several foreign
constitutions explicitly require governments to adopt
measures that facilitate rehabilitation. The constitutions of
Spain and Italy both specify that prison sentences should
“be oriented towards the re-education and rehabilitation of
offenders.”1493 Similarly, the constitutional courts of Germany,
France,1494 Italy,1495 and Namibia1496 have stated that prisoners
have a general right to rehabilitation as a result of their
constitutional right to human dignity.1497
The German Federal Constitutional Court has condemned
imposition of life imprisonment without any possibility
for parole. According to the German Constitutional Court,
the state “strikes at the very heart of human dignity if [it]
treats the prisoner without regard to the development of

202 American Civil Liberties Union

his personality and strips him of all hope of ever earning
his freedom…. The prison institutions also have the duty
in the case of prisoners sentenced to life imprisonment, to
strive towards their resocialization, to preserve their ability
to cope with life and to counteract the negative effects of
incarceration and destructive personality changes that go
with it.”1498 The German Constitutional Court held that the
state is obligated to consider “the particular situation of each
prisoner in terms of his or her capacity for rehabilitation and
resocialization and in the light of the principles of human
dignity, the rule of law, and the social state.”1499
In a unanimous decision, the South African Constitutional
Court held the following:
To attempt to justify any period of penal
incarceration, let alone imprisonment for life
as in the present case, without inquiring into
the proportionality between the offence and the
period of imprisonment, is to ignore, if not to
deny, that which lies at the very heart of human
dignity. Human beings are not commodities to
which a price can be attached; they are creatures
with inherent and infinite worth; they ought to
be treated as ends in themselves, never merely as
means to an end.1500
The South African Constitutional Court further elaborated,
“Where the length of the sentence, which has been imposed
because of its general deterrent effect on others, bears no
relation to the gravity of the offense, the offender is being
used essentially as a means to another end and the offender’s
dignity is assailed. So too where the reformative effect of
the punishment is predominant and the offender sentenced
to lengthy imprisonment, principally because he cannot be
reformed in a shorter period, but the length of imprisonment
bears no relationship to what the committed offence
merits.”1501

DIsPROPORTIONATE
�
sENTENCEs VIOLATE
�
INTERNATIONAL LAW
�
The U.S. Supreme Court held that a court may refer
“to the laws of other countries and to international
authorities as instructive for its interpretation of the
Eighth Amendment’s prohibition of cruel and unusual
punishments,”1502 and, accordingly, it has repeatedly resorted
to the use of international law in interpreting the scope of
the Eighth Amendment’s prohibition of cruel and unusual
punishment.1503
The imposition of LWOP sentences for nonviolent offenses
violates fundamental international human rights laws
and principles, including the right to humane treatment.
International law, which forms part of the common law of the
United States,1504 has long recognized that punishment should
fit the crime and that disproportionately severe sentences are
a form of cruel, inhuman, or degrading punishment.1505 The
requirement of proportionality in sentencing is reflected in
treaties, other international instruments, and the decisions
of international human rights bodies and regional courts.1506
Accordingly, the principle of proportionality has attained the
status of a rule of customary international law.1507
Proportionality between the seriousness of the offense and
the severity of the sentence is required by three interrelated
human rights principles: the inherent dignity of the
individual; the prohibition of cruel, inhuman, or degrading
punishment; and the right to liberty.1508 Treaties, including
those ratified by the United States, and other international
instruments all recognize these three fundamental principles.
Both the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights
(ICCPR)1509 and the Convention Against Torture and Other
Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment
(CAT)1510 prohibit “cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or
punishment.” The ICCPR further recognizes that all persons
deprived of their liberty shall be treated with humanity and
with respect for the inherent dignity of the human person.1511
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights similarly
recognizes the “inherent dignity” of humans and prohibits
cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment or punishment.1512
The European Court of Human Rights (ECHR), the judicial

body that adjudicates compliance with the European
Convention for the Protection of Human Rights, has
recognized that LWOP sentences violate the prohibition on
inhuman punishment and has found that prison sentences
must bear “reasonable relationship of proportionality with
what actually happened.”1513 In July 2013, the Grand Chamber
of the ECHR concluded by a vote of 16-to-1 in Vinter and
Others v. the United Kingdom that “whole life orders,” the
U.K. equivalent of life-without-parole sentences, violate
the Convention.1514 The court ruled that life sentences with
extremely limited or no possibilities for review and release
violate Article 3 of the Convention, which prohibits inhuman
or degrading treatment.1515 According to the court, Article 3
requires that life sentences must incorporate an opportunity
for review in which authorities can consider progress toward
rehabilitation and other changes in the life of the prisoner
that indicate an individual’s imprisonment no longer
serves a legitimate purpose and that he or she is entitled to
conditional release.1516 The prisoners serving LWOP who
brought the case had committed serious crimes: one had
been convicted of murdering his wife; another of murdering
his parents, his adoptive sister, and her children for financial
gain; and the third of murdering four people.1517 Even taking
into account the seriousness of these crimes, the court ruled
that there must be an opportunity for review of the prisoners’
life sentences. The court explained,
[I]f… a prisoner is incarcerated without any
prospect of release and without the possibility of
having his life sentence reviewed, there is the risk
that he can never atone for his offence: whatever
the prisoner does in prison, however exceptional
his progress towards rehabilitation, his
punishment remains fixed and unreviewable. If
anything, the punishment becomes greater with
time: the longer the prisoner lives, the longer
his sentence. Thus, [a life sentence without the
possibility of parole is] a poor guarantee of just
and proportionate punishment.1518
The opinions of the European Court are widely respected,
and the U.S. Supreme Court has cited them with approval.1519
Comparative country practice demonstrates a widespread
acceptance of the prohibition on grossly disproportionate

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 203

sentences. The principle of proportionality is found in
all Western legal systems,1520 and freedom from torture
and cruel or degrading punishment is explicitly provided
for in more than 81 constitutions.1521 The international
consensus on the principle of proportionality continues
to grow, having constituted an important element of all
sentencing reforms in the late twentieth century.1522 This
consensus was demonstrated most recently in the Rome
Statute of the International Criminal Court, established in
2002 to prosecute the most egregious international crimes,
including genocide, crimes against humanity, and war
crimes. Article 81(2)(a) of the statute grants the defense and
prosecution rights to appeal a sentence on grounds that it is
disproportionate to the crime.1523
Preserving proportionality between the seriousness of the
offense and the severity of the sentence is also recognized
at the inter-governmental level in Europe and forms an
integral component of all Western legal systems.1524 In
its Recommendations on Consistency in Sentencing, the
47-member Council of Europe provides that sentences “be
kept in proportion to the seriousness of the […] offense(s)”
and that member states avoid “disproportionality between
the seriousness of the offense and the sentence.”1525 Article 49
(3) of The Charter of Fundamental Rights of the European
Union, which sets forth the whole range of civil, political,
economic, and social rights of European citizens and all
persons residing in the European Union, also gives express
recognition to the proportionality principle: “The severity
of penalties must not be disproportionate to the criminal
offence.” The European Court of Justice, responsible for
the enforcement of European Union law in 27 countries in
Europe, has noted that while “Member States are empowered
to choose the penalties which seem appropriate to them[] [t]
hey must [] exercise that power in accordance … with the
principle of proportionality.”1526
Proportionality in sentencing is considered a cornerstone
of the criminal justice systems of many nations around the
world, including, significantly, those that share a common
law tradition with the United States, such as the United
Kingdom and Canada.1527 Legal norms in Finland and Sweden
emphasize proportionality, as do sentencing guidelines in
Canada, New Zealand, South Africa, and England.1528 The
Court of Appeal of England and Wales and the Canadian
Supreme Court have both found that a sentence that fails

204 American Civil Liberties Union

The European Court of
Human Rights recently ruled
that LWOP sentences violate
human rights and that the 49
prisoners serving LWOP in the
United Kingdom, all of whom
were convicted of murder,
must have an opportunity for
review of their sentences.
to take into consideration the seriousness and specific
circumstances of the offense and the offender is a form of
inhuman or degrading punishment.1529
In Forrester Bowe and another v. The Queen, the Judicial
Committee of the Privy Council, the court of final appeal
for the U.K. overseas territories and Crown dependencies
as well as certain Commonwealth countries, struck down
a Bermudan statute that imposed a mandatory sentence of
death for certain offenses, noting that “[t]he principle that
criminal penalties should be proportionate to the gravity of
the offence can be traced back to Magna Carta ….” and that a
court had the power “to quash a penalty which was excessive
and out of proportion.”1530
In R. v. Offen (No.2), the Court of Appeal for England and
Wales applied this proportionality principle in its assessment
of a statute that required the English courts to impose an
automatic life sentence for a second “serious offense.”1531
In setting aside a life sentence imposed by the trial court
on Offen after a second robbery conviction, the Court of
Appeal held that absent a showing of significant risk to the
public or other objective justification for such a sentence, a
mandatory life sentence “can be categorized as being arbitrary
and not proportionate.” The court also considered that such a
sentence could amount to a form of “inhuman or degrading
… punishment.”1532
Similarly, in R. v. Smith, the Canadian Supreme Court
held that a mandatory seven-year-minimum sentence for

importing narcotics violated Section 12 of the Canadian
Charter of Rights and Freedoms, which bans “cruel and
unusual treatment or punishment.”1533 The court reasoned
that because such a mandatory penalty applied regardless
of the drug type or quantity and the offender’s purposes
or other characteristics, “it is inevitable that, in some cases,
a verdict of guilt will lead to the imposition of a term of
imprisonment which will be grossly disproportionate” to
what the offender deserves.1534

the ICCPR, stated in its General Comment 21 that “No
penitentiary system should be only retributory; it should
essentially seek the reformation and social rehabilitation
of the prisoner.”1538 Further interpreting Article 10(3) of
the ICCPR, the Human Rights Council found in Yong-Joo
Kang v. Republic of Korea that detention in solitary
confinement for 13 years constituted a violation of Article
10(3)’s requirement that the essential aim of detention be
reformation and social rehabilitation.1539

In Smith, the Canadian Supreme Court also set forth the test
that should be employed by the Canadian courts in assessing
whether a sentence is grossly disproportionate and thus cruel
and unusual:

The U.N. Basic Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners (Basic
Rules)1540 and the U.N. Standard Minimum Rules for the
Treatment of Prisoners (Standard Minimum Rules)1541 also
underscore the rehabilitative function of incarceration. The
Basic Rules require states to provide “favorable conditions
[] for the reintegration of the ex-prisoner into society under
the best possible conditions.”1542 In addition, four provisions
of the Standard Minimum Rules establish the appropriate
restrictions on the rights of prisoners to participate in
civil society and political life. Standard Minimum Rule 57
declares that imprisonment should not hinder reintegration
into society after prison and should not inflict punishment
beyond the deprivation of liberty. Standard Minimum
Rule 60 requires the minimization of those differences
between prison life and life outside prison that fail to respect
prisoners’ dignity as human beings, and Standard Minimum
Rule 61 elaborates:

In assessing whether a sentence is grossly
disproportionate, the court must first consider
the gravity of the offence, the personal
characteristics of the offender, and the particular
circumstances of the case in order to determine
what range of sentences would have been
appropriate to punish, rehabilitate, or deter this
particular offender or to protect the public from
this particular offender.1535

RIGHT TO REHABILITATION
UNDER INTERNATIONAL LAW
International law, including both explicit treaty provisions
and customary international law, guarantees that offenders
have a right to be rehabilitated. The first major human
rights treaty ratified by the United States, the International
Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), incorporates
an explicit provision guaranteeing an individual’s right to
“social rehabilitation” following a term of incarceration and
also recognizing that such treatment arises out of the need
to respect individual “dignity.”1536 Article 10(3) of the ICCPR
provides: “All persons deprived of their liberty shall be treated
with humanity and with respect for the inherent dignity of
the human person . . . The penitentiary system shall comprise
treatment of prisoners the essential aim of which shall be
their reformation and social rehabilitation.”1537
The Human Rights Committee, charged with interpreting

The treatment of prisoners should emphasize
not their exclusion from the community, but
their continuing part in it. Community agencies
should, therefore, be enlisted wherever possible
to assist the staff of the institution in the task
of social rehabilitation of the prisoners…. Steps
should be taken to safeguard, to the maximum
extent compatible with the law and the sentence,
the rights relating to civil interests, social
security rights, and other social benefits of
prisoners.
Lastly, Standard Minimum Rule 65 provides:
The treatment of persons sentenced to
imprisonment…shall have as its purpose …to
establish in them the will to lead law-abiding
and self-supporting lives after their release and

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 205

to fit them to do so. The treatment shall be such
as will encourage their self-respect and develop
their sense of responsibility.
Regional human rights laws and policies also recognize that
offenders have a right to rehabilitation and hold that beyond
a punitive period (usually corresponding to the probationary
period or the minimum term in domestic European law),
the continued detention of a life prisoner has to be justified
by considerations of dangerousness and public safety. For
example, the European Convention for the Protection
of Human Rights and Fundamental Freedoms contains
a provision on the right to liberty in Article 5(1)(a) that
“Everyone has the right to liberty and security of person. No
one shall be deprived of his liberty save in the following cases
and in accordance with a procedure prescribed by law: the
lawful detention of a person after conviction by a competent
court.”1543 While this provision is interpreted to mean that the
length of the sentence is a matter for the national authorities
as long as the detention follows and has a sufficient causal
connection with a lawful conviction, a number of European
Court of Human Rights judgments have reviewed national
courts’ refusal to release on license or parole those sentenced
to life imprisonment.1544
The ECHR held that with respect to a life sentence, “[o]
nce the punishment element of the sentence ... has been
satisfied, the grounds for the continued detention ... must
be considerations of risk and dangerousness,” and such
considerations must be “associated with the objectives of
the original sentence….”1545 In addition, the ECHR has
noted that the element of dangerousness “is susceptible by
its very nature to change with the passage of time.”1546 The
ECHR also has recognized “the legitimate aim of a policy
of progressive social reintegration of persons sentenced
to imprisonment” and it acknowledged “the merit of
measures—such as temporary release—permitting the
social reintegration of prisoners even where they have been
convicted of violent crimes.”1547
Similarly, Article 5(6) of the American Convention on
Human Rights specifically requires re-adaptation to be a
goal of prison: “Punishments consisting of deprivation of
liberty shall have as an essential aim the reform and social
re-adaptation of the prisoners.”1548 Because the United States
signed the American Convention on Human Rights in 1997

206 American Civil Liberties Union

but did not ratify the treaty, it is bound as a signatory not
to act in a manner that would defeat the purpose of the
treaty.1549
In interpreting this provision, the Inter-American
Commission on Human Rights has repeatedly emphasized
the rehabilitative function of a prison sentence and the
importance of rehabilitation to the individual’s harmonious
reintegration back into society.1550 For example, the
Commission has noted that “[t]he prison system is intended
to serve several principal objectives… [t]he ultimate
objective” being “the rehabilitation of the offender and his or
her reincorporation into society;” and that, “[t]he exercise of
custodial authority carries with it special responsibility for
ensuring that the deprivation of liberty serves its intended
purpose, and does not result in the infringement of other
basic rights.”1551

U.s. CONsTITUTIONAL LAW
The Eighth Amendment to the Constitution of the United
States bans cruel and unusual punishment,1552 which includes
sentences that are grossly disproportionate to the offense
committed.1553 The determination of whether a punishment
is cruel and unusual under the Eighth Amendment is no
longer tied to the historical concept of what was “cruel and
unusual” at the time of its adoption,1554 but rather requires
courts to examine “evolving standards of decency that mark
the progress of a maturing society.”1555
Although the Supreme Court has imposed categorical bans
on sentencing practices based on “mismatches between
the culpability of a class of offenders and the severity of a
penalty,”1556 largely in the capital context but also including
categorically striking down life-without-parole sentences
for juvenile offenders convicted of non-homicide crimes
and mandatory LWOP for juvenile offenders, the Court
has generally eschewed Eighth Amendment protection for
adult offenders facing harsh, noncapital sentences. However,
recent decisions striking down juvenile LWOP sentences and
emerging national consensus on the need for sentencing
reform suggest that national “standards of decency” are
evolving, and it is time the Supreme Court reviews the

Emerging national consensus
on the need for sentencing
reform and recent Supreme
Court decisions ruling
that juvenile offenders
cannot receive LWOP for
non-homicide offenses or
mandatory LWOP sentences
for any crime suggest that
“standards of decency” are
evolving.
constitutionality of LWOP sentences for nonviolent offenses
as well as mandatory LWOP sentences for adult offenders.
Rather than apply proportionality review in the context of
noncapital offenses, the Supreme Court has chosen to defer to
Congress and state legislatures’ determinations of appropriate
sentencing legislation.1557 Consequently, despite the Court’s
recognition that “the Eighth Amendment is a restraint upon
the exercise of legislative power,”1558 it has failed to curb—
indeed, it has enabled—the rise in LWOP and life sentences
for nonviolent offenses.
For example, in a 1980 decision, Rummel v. Estelle, the Court
upheld a mandatory life sentence for a defendant convicted of
obtaining $120 under false pretenses (for accepting payment
in return for the promise to repair an air conditioner that was
never repaired).1559 His two previous offenses—fraudulent
use of a credit card and passing a bad check—cost his victims
a total of $108.36.1560 The Court held that “[h]aving twice
imprisoned him for felonies, Texas was entitled to place upon
Rummel the onus of one who is simply unable to bring his
conduct within the social norms prescribed by the criminal
law.”1561
Three years later, in Solem v. Helm, the Court struck down a
life-without-parole sentence for a seventh felony conviction
for passing a bad check for $100, ruling that the sentence

issued pursuant to a South Dakota recidivist statute
was unconstitutional under the Eighth Amendment.1562
Recognizing that nonviolent crimes are less serious than
violent crimes against persons, the Court used a three-prong
proportionality analysis in which courts should consider: “(i)
the gravity of the offense and the harshness of the penalty;
(ii) the sentences imposed on other criminals in the same
jurisdiction; and (iii) the sentences imposed for commission
of the same crime in other jurisdictions.”1563 Noting that
prison sentences can be unconstitutional solely because of
excessive length,1564 the Court stated that the judiciary is
competent to measure the gravity of a crime “on a relative
scale,” and that common-sense determinations—for example,
that “nonviolent crimes are less serious than crimes marked
by violence or the threat of violence,”—could, at the very
least, ensure that less serious crimes are not punished more
severely than more serious crimes.1565
In 1991, in Harmelin v. Michigan, a plurality of the Supreme
Court upheld a mandatory life sentence without the
possibility for parole for a first-time offender convicted of
possessing 672 grams of cocaine.1566 The Court was unable to
agree on a rationale for the ruling, with Justice Antonin Scalia
concluding that no proportionality analysis should apply
outside the capital punishment context, and Justice Anthony
Kennedy arguing that the Eighth Amendment “forbids only
extreme sentences that are ‘grossly disproportionate’ to the
crime.”1567
After Harmelin, in order to invoke the Eighth Amendment
to overturn a non-capital sentence, defendants generally
have to demonstrate that their sentences are “grossly
disproportionate.” In Ewing v. California, the Supreme
Court upheld a mandatory sentence of 25 years to life for a
defendant’s third conviction for grand theft for stealing three
golf clubs, imposed under California’s Three Strikes law.1568
The Court reaffirmed that the Eighth Amendment bars only
grossly disproportionate sentences—which, apparently, did
not include 25 years to life for shoplifting sports equipment—
and made it clear that it would defer to legislative judgment,
especially concerning recidivism statutes.1569
As a result of the Supreme Court’s near total rejection of
meaningful proportionality review of non-capital sentences,
federal and state courts have likewise shown extreme
deference to legislatures when faced with Eighth Amendment

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 207

challenges to non-capital sentences.1570 Courts engage in little
or no analysis as to why a particular statutory sentence does
not lead to an inference of gross proportionality, resulting in
a “near-absolute presumption of validity in practice, if not in
theory.”1571

and experience, be found cruel and unusual
at a later time; unless we are to abandon the
moral commitment embodied in the Eighth
Amendment, proportionality review must never
become effectively obsolete.1575

However, the ACLU believes that Harmelin was wrongly
decided and that there has long been a need to revisit its
rejection of proportionality in sentencing in non-capital
cases. The time may be ripe: the Supreme Court has declared
recently that juvenile offenders cannot receive life without
parole for non-homicide offenses1572 or mandatory sentences
of life without parole for any crime.1573 These cases present
an opening to argue more persuasively for an expansion of
the proportionality jurisprudence to non-capital sentencing,
and specifically that our “evolving standards of decency”
dictate that certain sentences, starting with life without parole
for nonviolent offenses and mandatory LWOP sentences for
adult offenders, are unconstitutional.

The Supreme Court should embrace the developments in the
context of juvenile sentencing to revisit life-without-parole
sentences for adult nonviolent offenders and mandatory
LWOP sentences more broadly.1576 Only then will the
Supreme Court fulfill its role, as described by one legal
scholar, as a “check on the excessive punishments that emerge
from a democratic process that fail[] to give noncapital
sentencing rational consideration.”1577 The Court should
make this move because of the harshness of the life
without-parole sentence, and because all defendants deserve
individualized and proportionate sentencing, especially when
their lives are at stake.1578

The ACLU believes that
Harmelin was wrongly decided
and that there has long been a
need to revisit its rejection of
proportionality in sentencing
in non-capital cases.
As sentencing reforms have been embraced on both sides of
the political aisle, and as incredibly harsh drug laws are scaled
back across the United States, including the decriminalization
of certain drug-related conduct, imposing life-without-parole
for drug and other nonviolent crimes no longer reflects—if
it ever did—societal standards of decency.1574 As Justice John
Paul Stevens remarked in his concurrence in Graham v.
Florida, ruling that LWOP for juvenile offenders convicted of
non-homicide offenses violates the Eighth Amendment:
Society changes. Knowledge accumulates.
We learn, sometimes, from our mistakes.
Punishments that did not seem cruel and
unusual at one time may, in the light of reason

208 American Civil Liberties Union

X. Acknowledgments

his report was written and researched by Jennifer
Turner, the ACLU’s Human Rights Researcher. Will
Bunting, the ACLU’s Fiscal Policy Analyst, conducted
the fiscal impact analysis and drafted the fiscal cost section of
this report. Human Rights Program Legal Assistant Allison
Frankel and legal intern Cate Hall provided invaluable
research and drafting assistance. Paralegal Alex Stamm filed
the records requests and analyzed the FOIA data received by
the ACLU. Intern Rebecca Steinberg assisted with reviewing,
coding, and analyzing prisoner survey responses, and legal
intern Michelle Kornblit provided research assistance. The
report was reviewed and edited by Vanita Gupta, Deputy
Legal Director; Jamil Dakwar, Director of the Human Rights
Program; Kara Dansky, Senior Counsel of the Center for
Justice; Chloe Cockburn, Advocacy and Policy Counsel;
Ezekiel Edwards, Director of the Criminal Law Reform
Project; David Fathi, Director of the National Prison Project;
and Denny LeBoeuf, Director of the Capital Punishment
Project.
The ACLU thanks Families Against Mandatory Minimums,
Crack Open the Door, the November Coalition, Professor
David Zlotnick of Roger Williams University School of
Law, Life for Pot, the Orleans Public Defenders, and inmate
counsel substitutes whom the ACLU has chosen not to name
to avoid retribution for their assistance with this research, for
their assistance in identifying cases to research and profile in
this report. Special thanks to Dr. Boyce Watkins and Maria
Lloyd of Your Black World Network, and Charles and Randy
Fisher of the Hip-Hop Summit Youth Council and P.O.G.
Marketing & Media for their assistance in promoting this
report. The ACLU extends its deepest gratitude to the many
prisoners and their family members who agreed to share their
stories for this report.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 209

ENDNOTEs
1.

2.
3.

4.
5.
6.

7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.

15.

“Life without parole” is the most common term for sentences
of life without possibility of release; “natural life,” “true life,”
or “whole life” are also used. Throughout this report, we
interchangeably use “life without parole” and “LWOP” to refer to
these sentences.
ACLU telephone interview with Dicky Joe Jackson, Forrest City
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Forrest City, Arkansas,
Mar. 12, 2013.
Letter from Judge Michael R. Snipes, Criminal District Court #7,
Dallas County Veterans Court, former federal prosecutor who
tried Dicky Joe Jackson’s case, Jan. 30, 2013 (stating “I saw no
indication that Mr. Jackson was violent, that he was any sort of
large scale narcotics trafficker, or that he committed his crimes
for any reason other than to get money to care for his gravely ill
child.”).
J.A. 311, quoted in United States v. [name redacted at prisoner’s
request], 435 Fed.Appx. 209 (4th Cir. June 17, 2011), (Davis, J.,
concurring).
ACLU interview with Burl Cain, Warden, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, June 4, 2013.
Letter to the ACLU from Antawn Tyrone Bolden, Jefferson
Correctional Institution, Monticello, Florida, Mar. 10, 2013; letter
to the ACLU from Timothy Hartman, Charlotte Correctional
Institution, Punta Gorda, Florida, July 17, 2013; letter to the
ACLU from Louis Scott White, Holmes Correctional Institution,
Bonifoy, Florida, July 23, 2013; letter to the ACLU from Thomas
Tinghino, Suwannee Correctional Institution Annex, Live Oak,
Florida, July 20, 2013; ACLU telephone interview with Tommy
Bryant, Jesup Federal Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia,
July 17, 2013; letter to the ACLU from Eduardo Toranzo, Cross
City Correctional Institution, Cross City, Florida, July 20, 2013.
Letter to the ACLU from Leland Dodd, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 8, 2013.
Letter to the ACLU from Libert Roland, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 11, 2013.
Furman v. Georgia, 408 U.S. 238 (1972).
Only Alaska provides the possibility of parole for all life
sentences. Alaska’s version of LWOP is a 99-year sentence
without the possibility of parole.
Ashley Nellis, The seNTeNciNg ProjecT, life goes oN: The
hisToric rise iN life seNTeNces iN AmericA 6 (2013).
Id. at 1, 6; Ashley Nellis & ryAN s. KiNg, The seNTeNciNg
ProjecT, No exiT: The exPANdiNg Use of life seNTeNces iN
AmericA 10 (2009).
Ashley Nellis, The seNTeNciNg ProjecT, ThrowiNg AwAy The
Key: The exPANsioN of life wiThoUT PArole seNTeNces iN The
UNiTed sTATes, 23 fed. seNT’g reP. 1, 27 (2010).
Marie Gottschalk, No Way Out? Life Sentences and the Politics
of Penal Reform, in life wiThoUT PArole: AmericA’s New deATh
PeNAlTy? 229 (Charles J. Ogletree Jr. & Austin Sarat eds., 2012);
life goes oN: The hisToric rise iN life seNTeNces iN AmericA,
supra note 11.
UNiv. of sAN frANcisco school of lAw ceNTer for lAw ANd
globAl jUsTice, crUel ANd UNUsUAl: U.s. seNTeNciNg PrAcTices
iN A globAl coNTexT 8 (2012).

210 American Civil Liberties Union

16. See Vinter and Others v. The United Kingdom, Application. Nos.
66069/09, 130/10, and 3896/10, Eur. Ct. H.R. (July 9, 2013);
Owen Bowcott & Eric Allison, Whole-life jail terms without
review breach human rights – European court, The gUArdiAN,
July 9, 2013, available at http://www.theguardian.com/law/2013/
jul/09/whole-life-jail-sentences-without-review-breach-human
rights.
17. crUel ANd UNUsUAl, supra note 15, at 8.
18. Attorney General Eric Holder, Remarks at the Annual Meeting
of the American Bar Association’s House of Delegates, San
Francisco, Aug. 12, 2013.
19. ACLU interview with Burl Cain, Warden, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, June 4, 2013.
20. Id.
21. Id.
22. As discussed in section III(A) of this report, the ACLU would
advocate for the elimination of de facto LWOP sentences for
nonviolent offenses in addition to the elimination of formal
LWOP sentences for nonviolent offenses.
23. The ACLU reiterates its concern about recent media
investigations into the Office of the Pardon Attorney (OPA),
which suggested that there are troubling racial disparities
in the application of pardons and that OPA has withheld or
misrepresented critical information from the President (https://
www.aclu.org/files/assets/opa_oversight_sign_on_5-21-12.pdf).
A Congressional investigation into the activities of the OPA is
needed to address these troubling allegations. At a minimum, in
order to effectuate this recommendation, the Attorney General
should immediately undertake an exhaustive examination of
OPA and, if necessary, establish an independent body to develop
criteria for commutations and make recommendations on
particular clemency cases.
24. In many of the federal cases documented by the ACLU,
defendants are unable to take advantage of Supreme Court
jurisprudence such as Apprendi v. New Jersey, 530 U.S. 466
(2000); Blakely v. Washington, 542 U.S. 296 (2004); and United
States v. Booker, 543 U.S. 220 (2005), that could result in a
sentence reduction if retroactive review and application of these
decisions were permitted.
25. “Second look” laws include provisions that authorize sentence
reductions when extraordinary circumstances make the original
term seem unreasonable or unjust as well as mechanisms that are
available on a more routine basis to all or most similarly situated
prisoners.
26. For example, in Georgia, Undreas Davis was sentenced in 2009
to 150 years without parole for three counts of theft by taking
and 12 counts of financial identity fraud—for possessing stolen
mail. He was sentenced as a career criminal because of three
prior felony convictions for minor property crimes: uttering and
publishing a false, forged, altered, or counterfeit instrument;
making a false statement of a material fact in an application for
a certificate of title; and receipt of stolen mail. In an unusual turn
of events, Davis’s sentence ultimately was vacated and remanded
for resentencing, not because of its harshness but because his
prior convictions had been improperly considered as the basis for
sentencing as a habitual offender. Davis v. State, No. A12A1423,
2012 WL 5951536 (Ga. Ct. App. Nov. 29, 2012); Davis v. State,
No. A12A1423, 319 Ga. App. 501 (Ga. Ct. App. Dec. 14, 2012).

27. Sharon Dolovich, Creating the Permanent Prisoner, in life
wiThoUT PArole: AmericA’s New deATh PeNAlTy?, supra note
14.
28. Id. at 111, n.99, citing Keith Wattley, Presentation at UCLA
School of Law: Introduction to Life Sentences in California
(Nov. 10, 2010); Jennifer Chaussee, For Paroled Lifers, Release
Dates May Come Only with the Courts, cAPiTol wKly., Jan.
13, 2011 (reporting that, according to one survey of 300 lifers
in custody, only two had been granted release dates by the state
parole board).
29. Alexander Cockburn, Dead Souls, The NATioN, Apr. 15, 2009.
30. sTANford crimiNAl jUsTice cTr, sTANford lAw school, life
iN limbo: AN exAmiNATioN of PArole releAse for PrisoNers
serviNg life seNTeNces wiTh The PossibiliTy of PArole iN
cAliforNiA (2011).
31. Joseph E. Kennedy, Monstrous Offenders and the Search for
Solidarity Through Modern Punishment, 51 hAsTiNgs l.j. 829,
830 (2000).
32. For example, Rhode Island creates a discretionary life sentence
for a third offense involving carrying a firearm or dangerous
substance (such as explosives) during a “crime of violence.”
r.i. geN. lAws ANN. § 11-47-3 (West 2012). The definition of
“crime of violence” for these purposes includes crimes against
the person such as murder and rape as well as offenses such
as burglary, breaking and entering, and “any felony violation
involving the illegal manufacture, sale, or delivery of a controlled
substance.” r.i. geN. lAws ANN. § 11-47-2(2) (West 2012).
The federal Armed Career Criminal Act lists extortion as an
enumerated example of a violent felony. In Minnesota, a person
convicted of a third “violent crime” may receive an “aggravated
durational departure” under the state’s sentencing guidelines,
including a life-without-parole sentence, if the offender is
determined to be a public safety risk. The definition of “violent
crime” in Minnesota includes certain drug-related crimes, such as
use of drugs to facilitate a crime, and methamphetamine-related
crimes involving children or “vulnerable adults.” Possession of
a firearm by certain felons, first-degree burglary (such as of a
dwelling when a person is present), and any crime committed for
the benefit of a gang also qualify as violent crimes in Minnesota.
miNN. sTAT. ANN. § 609.1095 (West 2013).
33. E.g.,18 U.S.C.A. § 924(c)(1)(C)(ii) (West 2006), creating a
mandatory life sentence for a second or subsequent conviction
for using, carrying, or possessing a machine gun or firearm
equipped with a silencer during and in relation to any “crime
of violence” or “drug trafficking crime.” For purposes of this
provision, “crime of violence” means any felony that has as an
element the use, attempt, or threat of force against the person or
property of another or that by its nature involves a substantial
risk that physical force against the person or property of another
may be used. 18 U.S.C.A. § 924(c)(3) (West 2006).
34. United States v. Bryant, 310 F.3d 550, 554 (7th Cir. 2002).
35. United States v. Sun Bear, 307 F.3d 747, 753 (8th Cir. 2002),
abrogated by United States v. Williams, 537 F.3d 969, 970-71 (8th
Cir. 2008)..
36. United States v. Johnson, 417 F.3d 990, 997 (8th Cir. 2005),
abrogated by United States v. Williams, 537 F.3d at 970-71.
37. United States v. Springfield, 196 F.3d 1180, 1185 (10th Cir. 1999).
38. Compare United States v. Fell, 511 F.3d 1035 (10th Cir. 2007)
(even after James v. United States, 550 U.S. 192 (2007), and

39.
40.
41.
42.

43.

44.

45.

46.

47.
48.
49.
50.

51.
52.
53.
54.

even where statute requires an overt act, conspiracy to commit
burglary not violent), with United States v. Moore, 108 F.3d 878
(8th Cir. 1997) (attempted burglary violent if statute requires
proof of overt act).
Compare United States v. Montgomery, 402 F.3d 482 (5th Cir.
2005) (not violent), with United States v. Sawyers, 409 F.3d 732
(6th Cir. 2005) (violent).
Compare United States v. Whitfield, 907 F.2d 798 (8th Cir. 1990)
(not violent), with United States v. Hall, 77 F.3d 398 (11th Cir.
1996) (violent).
Compare United States v. Amos, 501 F.3d 524 (6th Cir. 2007) (not
violent), with United States v. Bishop, 453 F.3d 30 (1st Cir. 2006)
(violent).
Compare United States v. Sawyers, 409 F.3d 732 (6th Cir. 2005)
(statutory rape not categorically violent), with United States v.
Williams, 120 F.3d 575 (5th Cir. 1997) (inducement of minor to
commit sodomy violent), and United States v. Thomas, 231 Fed.
Appx. 765 (9th Cir. 2007) (all rape violent).
Compare United States v. Sanchez-Garcia, 501 F.3d 1208 (10th
Cir. 2007) (unauthorized use of a motor vehicle not a “violent
felony” under 18 U.S.C. §16(b), which is very similar to ACCA’s
residual clause), with United States v. Reliford, 471 F.3d 913 (8th
Cir. 2006) (automobile tampering violent under ACCA’s residual
clause), and United States v. Galvan-Rodriguez, 169 F.3d 217 (5th
Cir. 1999) (per curiam) (unauthorized use of a motor vehicle a
“violent felony” under §16(b)).
See Zimring and Johnson, The Dark At The Top of the Stairs:
Four Destructive Influences of Capital Punishment on American
Criminal Justice (Nov. 8, 2011) (“Life without possibility of
parole as a distinctive sentencing frame found in legislation was
a product of the 1970s.”).
See Ashley Nellis, Tinkering with Life: A Look at the
Inappropriateness of Life Without Parole as an Alternative to
the Death Penalty, 67 U. miAmi l. rev. 439 (2013) (“Alabama,
Illinois, and Louisiana all adopted LWOP statutes in direct
response to the Furman decision.”).
American Law Institute, Model Penal Code: Sentencing 13
(Tentative Draft No. 2, Mar. 25, 2011), available at http://www.
ali.org/00021333/Model%20Penal%20Code%20TD%20No%20
2%20-%20online%20version.pdf.
life goes oN: The hisToric rise iN life seNTeNces iN AmericA,
supra note 11, at 1.
Id. at 5 (finding the number of prisoners serving LWOP was
49,081 as of 2012).
ThrowiNg AwAy The Key, supra note 13.
Marie Gottschalk, No Way Out? Life Sentences and the Politics
of Penal Reform, in life wiThoUT PArole: AmericA’s New deATh
PeNAlTy?, supra note 14, at 229; life goes oN: The hisToric
rise iN life seNTeNces iN AmericA, supra note 11, at 6.
Only Alaska provides the possibility of parole for all life
sentences. Alaska’s version of LWOP is a 99-year sentence
without the possibility of parole.
No exiT, supra note 12, at 10.
ThrowiNg AwAy The Key, supra note 13, at 28.
Those states are Alabama, Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia,
Illinois, Iowa, Kansas, Louisiana, Maryland, Massachusetts,
Michigan, Minnesota, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana,
New Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, North Carolina,

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 211

55.
56.

57.
58.
59.

60.
61.
62.
63.
64.
65.
66.
67.
68.
69.
70.
71.
72.
73.
74.
75.
76.
77.
78.
79.
80.

Oklahoma, Oregon, South Carolina, Tennessee, Texas, Virginia,
Washington, West Virginia, and Wyoming. Id. at 27.
ThrowiNg AwAy The Key, supra note 13, at 27.
See, e.g., id. at 28-29; sTANford lAw school, Progress rePorT:
Three sTriKes reform (ProPosiTioN 36) (2013), available at
https://www.law.stanford.edu/organizations/programs-and
centers/stanford-three-strikes-project/proposition-36-progress
report; cAl. deP’T of corrs. ANd rehAb., lifer PArolee
recidivism rePorT (2013), available at http://www.cdcr.ca.gov/
adult_research_branch/Research_Documents/FINAL_06_07_
Lifer_Parolee_Recidivism_1_14_13.pdf; life iN limbo, supra
note 30.
State v. Carter, 99-KA-779 (La. App. 4 Cir. 11/15/00); 773 So.2d
268.
State v. White, 36,935-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 6/6/03); 850 So.2d
751.
Hudson v. State, 31 So.3d 1 (Miss. Ct. App. Feb. 10, 2009). On
appeal, the Supreme Court of Mississippi reversed and rendered
Vincent Carnell Hudson’s conviction and sentence, finding that
the evidence introduced against him at trial was insufficient to
show that he was aware of the trace amount of cocaine in his
pockets or that he consciously and intentionally possessed it.
Hudson v. State, No. 2007-CT-02016-SCT (Miss. Mar. 25, 2010).
State v. Surry, 37,448-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 9/24/03); 855 So.2d
893.
State ex. rel. Veal v. State, 2003-KH-0451 (La. 3/19/04); 869
So.2d 844.
State v. Finch, 97-KA-2060 (La. App. 4 Cir. 2/24/99); 730 S.2d
1020.
State v. Kelly, 01-KA-321 (La. App. 5 Cir. 10/17/01); 800 So.2d
978.
State v. Bourda, KA 10-1553 (La. App. 3 Cir. 6/8/11); 70 So.3d
82.
State v. Mosley, 08-KA-1318 (La. App. 5 Cir. 5/12/09); 13 So.3d
705.
State v. Winslow, 45,414 (La. App. 2 Cir. 12/15/10); 55 So.3d
910, writ denied, 63 So. 3d 1033 (La. 6/17/11).
State v. Green, 36,741-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 5/5/03); 839 So.2d
970.
Miles v. State, 864 So. 2d 963 (Miss. App. Nov. 4, 2003).
State v. Carthan, 99-512 (La. App. 3 Cir. 12/8/99); 765 So.2d
357, writ denied, 778 So.2d 547 (La. 1/12/01), reconsideration
denied, 788 So.2d 438 (La. 3/30/01).
State v. Chester, 97-K-1001 (La. App. 1 Cir. 12/19/97).
Young v. State, 86 So.3d 261 (Miss. App. 2011).
Clay v. State, No. 2003-KA-00631-COA (Miss. Ct. App. Aug.
24, 2004).
State v. Stack, 97-KA-1176 (La. App. 5 Cir. 4/15/98).
State v. Matthews, 2010-KA-1040 (La. App. 1 Cir. 12/22/10).
Kelly v. State, No. 2004-KA-01961-COA (Miss. Ct. App. Aug. 8,
2006).
London v. State, No. 2009–KP–01982–COA (Miss. Ct. App.
July 19, 2011).
State v. Pettus, 10-KA-215 (La. App. 5 Cir. 6/24/11); 68 So.3d
21, writ denied, 76 So.3d.1176 (La. 12/2/11).
State v. Caliste, 2010-KA-0650 (La. App. 1 Cir. 10/29/10).
State v. Washington, 41,182-KA (La. App. 2. Cir. 9/1/06).
State v. Jackson, 96-KA-2540 (La. App. 4 Cir. 11/26/97).

212 American Civil Liberties Union

81. State v. Cushinello, 01-KA-109 (La. App. 1 Cir. 7/30/01); 792
So.2d 926.
82. State v. Nelson, 2010-0997 (La. App. 1 Cir. 10/22/10).
83. ACLU telephone interview with Anthony Jerome Jackson, Lieber
Correctional Institution, Ridgeville, South Carolina, Mar. 22,
2013; letter to the ACLU from Anthony Jerome Jackson, Lieber
Correctional Institution, Ridgeville, South Carolina, Mar. 28,
2013; Police Roundup, myrTle beAch oNliNe, Nov. 16, 2012.
84. State v. Godbolt, 2006 KA 0609 (La. App. 1 Cir. 11/3/06); 950
So.2d 727.
85. State v. Kyles, 2010-KA-1308 (La. App. 1 Cir. 2/11/11).
86. State v. Fields, 411-743 “B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish Orleans
3/20/00).
87. State v. Jones, 2000-KA-2117 (La. App. 4 Cir. 6/21/00).
88. State v. Washington, 338 S.C. 392 (S.C. Jan. 17, 2000).
89. Ott v. State, No. F-97-588 (Okla. Crim. App. Sept. 23, 1998).
90. life goes oN: The hisToric rise iN life seNTeNces iN AmericA,
supra note 11, at 6.
91. State v. Yarbrough (Okla. King County Ct., 1997).
92. State v. Coleman, 403-657 “B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish Orleans
1999).
93. State v. Mosley, No. S-2010-755, 2011 OK CR20 (Okla. Crim.
App. July 19, 2011).
94. State v. Johnson, 114 So.3d 205 (Fla. 5th Dist. Ct. App. Oct. 12,
2012).
95. State v. Williams, 669 S.E.2d 640 (S.C. App. 2008).
96. State v. Byers, No. 2011-190694 (S.C. App. Mar. 27, 2013).
97. State v. Gray, No. 91-816-CF-A-Z (Fla. 5th Cir. Ct. 1991).
98. Mathis v. State, No. 92-6238 (Fla. Dist. Ct. App. Jan. 25, 1993).
99. United States v. Arionus, Cr. 93-10 (S.D. Iowa Nov. 4, 1993).
100. Minor v. United States, No. 4:10-cv-02325-RMG (D.S.C. Oct.
25, 2010).
101. State v. Mead, 988 So.2d 740, 749 (La. App. 2 Cir. 7/23/08);
State v. Mead, 16 So.3d 470, 472 (La. App. 2 Cir. 8/13/09).
102. State v. Hayes; Mathis v. State, 859 So.2d 1265 (Fla. 4th Dist. Ct.
App. Nov. 26, 2003); Morrow v. State, 956 So.2d 1043 (Fla. 5th
Dist. Ct. App. Sept. 5, 2003).
103. State v. Saltzman (Fla. Palm Beach County Ct., 2007).
104. State v. Horne, No. 99-KA-2192 (La. App. 1 Cir. 9/22/00).
105. Wade v. State, No. 93-02537 (Fla. 10th Cir. Ct. Oct. 21,

1998).

106. State v. Giles (Fla. Polk County Ct., 1979).
107. State v. Bates, 37,282 KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 10/16/13).
108. Alaska provides for the possibility of a 99-year sentence for
nonviolent offenses. Although 99 years would constitute a de
facto LWOP sentence for virtually every prisoner who receives
it, because a term of years is not, strictly speaking, an LWOP
sentence, the ACLU has not included Alaska in the data in this
report.
109. Under U.S. Sentencing Guidelines § 4B1.1(a) (2011), “A
defendant is a career offender if (1) the defendant was at least
eighteen years old at the time the defendant committed the
instant offense of conviction; (2) the instant offense of conviction
is a felony that is either a crime of violence or a controlled
substance offense; and (3) the defendant has at least two prior
felony convictions of either a crime of violence or a controlled
substance offense.” The guidelines provide significantly
enhanced offense levels for career offenders. If the defendant’s
offense level increased due to application of the table in USSG

§4B1.1 or if the defendant had a criminal history category of
less than category VI prior to application of the guideline, he or
she is considered to have had his or her sentence enhanced as
career offenders for the purposes of data collection by the United
States Sentencing Commission. See United States Sentencing
Commission, Report on the Continuing Impact of United States
v. Booker on Federal Sentencing, Part C: Career Offenders at 1
(2012).
110. The average age at the time of the crime was 32.6, and the
median age at the time of the crime was 32.
111. Sourcebook of Criminal Justice Statistics Online, Table
6.0027.2009, Sentence length and time served for first releases
from State prison, 2009, http://www.albany.edu/sourcebook/pdf/
t600272009.pdf.
112. See, e.g., Loïc Wacquant, Class, Race & Hyperincarceration
in Revanchist America, dAedAlUs (2010); brUce wesTerN,
PUNishmeNT ANd iNeqUAliTy iN AmericA 26-28 (2006).
113. See, e.g., Sonja B. Starr & M. Marit Rehavi, Racial Disparity in
Federal Criminal Charging and its Sentencing Consequences,
U of michigAN lAw & ecoN, emPiricAl legAl sTUdies ceNTer
PAPer No. 12-002 (2012) (“Black defendants face significantly
more severe charges than whites even after controlling
for criminal behavior (arrest offense, multiple-defendant
case structure, and criminal history), observed defendant
characteristics (e.g., age, education), defense counsel type,
district, county economic characteristic, and crime rates…Black
male federal defendants receive longer sentences than whites
arrested for the same offenses and with the same prior records…
much of that disparity appears to be driven by decisions at
the initial charging stage, especially by prosecutors’ filing of
‘mandatory minimum’ charges, which, ceteris paribus, they
do twice as often against black defendants”); Robert L. Carter,
Fourth Annual W. Haywood Burns Memorial Lecture, The
Committee on Minorities and the Law, 3 N.y. ciTy l. rev. 267
(2000), citing mArc mAUer, The seNTeNciNg ProjecT, rAce
To iNcArcerATe (1999). Studies show that Blacks and whites
use drugs at comparable rates. See, e.g., U.s. deP’T of heAlTh
ANd hUmAN services, resUlTs from The 2012 NATioNAl sUrvey
oN drUg Use ANd heAlTh: sUmmAry of NATioNAl fiNdiNgs 24
(2012); hUmAN righTs wATch, TArgeTiNg blAcKs: drUg lAw
eNforcemeNT ANd rAce iN The UNiTed sTATes 42 (2008). See
also The seNTeNciNg ProjecT, rAciAl disPAriTy iN seNTeNciNg:
A review of The liTerATUre (2005) (Finding that young Black
and Latino males tend to be sentenced more severely than
comparably situated white males, and that “in general, the
relevant studies have found that greater racial disparity exists in
sentencing for less serious crimes, especially property crimes and
drug offenses, as opposed to violent crimes”).
114. U.s. seNTeNciNg comm’N, rePorT oN The coNTiNUiNg imPAcT of
United StateS v. Booker oN federAl seNTeNciNg (Jan. 30, 2013).
115. Although Blacks constitute only about 13 percent of the
population, as of 2009, they constitute 28.3 percent of all lifers
and 56.4 percent of those serving LWOP. In 13 states and the
federal system, the percentage of Blacks serving life sentences is
more than 60 percent. In Georgia and Louisiana, the proportion
of Blacks serving LWOP sentences is as high as 73.9 and 73.3
percent, respectively. In the federal system, 71.3 percent of the
1,230 LWOP prisoners are Black. No exiT, supra note 12, at 11
15, 17, 20-23.

116. See, e.g., Starr & Rehavi, supra note 113; Marc Mauer,
Addressing Racial Disparities in Incarceration, PrisoN joUrNAl
(2011).
117. C. Spohn, Thirty Years of Sentencing Reform: The Quest for a
Racially Neutral Sentencing Process, in crimiNAl jUsTice 427
501 (J. Horney, ed., U.S. DOJ 2000).
118. See, e.g., D.C. Baldus & C. Woodworth, Race Discrimination
and the Legitimacy of Capital Punishment: Reflections on the
Interaction of Fact and Perception, 53 dePAUl l.r. 1411-1495
(2004).
119. See, e.g., Mauer, supra note 116.
120. M. Crow & K. Johnson, Race, Ethnicity, and Habitual-Offender
Sentencing, 19 crimiNAl jUsTice Policy review 63-83 (2008).
121. e. ANN cArsoN & dANielA goliNelli, U.s. deP’T of jUsTice,
bUreAU of jUsTice sTATisTics, PrisoNers iN 2012 – AdvANce
coUNTs 1 (2013); Todd d. miNToN, U.s. deP’T of jUsTice,
bUreAU of jUsTice sTATisTics, jAil iNmATes AT midyeAr
2012-sTATisTicAl TAbles 1 (2013).
122. michelle NATividAd rodrigUez & mAUrice emsellem, The
NATioNAl emPloymeNT lAw ProjecT, 65 millioN “Need NoT
APPly” The cAse for reformiNg crimiNAl bAcKgroUNd checKs
for emPloymeNT (2011), available at http://www.nelp.org/page/-/
SCLP/2011/65_Million_Need_Not_Apply.pdf?nocdn=1.
123. Todd R. Clear & James Austin, Reducing Mass Incarceration:
Implications of the Iron Law of Prison Populations, 3 hArv. l. &
Pol’y rev. (2009).
124. johN PfAff, The cAUses of growTh iN PrisoN AdmissioNs
ANd

PoPUlATioNs (2011).

125. Some federal mandatory minimum sentences apply to other
offenses, such as certain firearm, pornography, and economic
crimes. For example, a person in possession of a gun who has
three prior felony convictions is required to serve a mandatory
15-year term. 18 U.S.C. § 924(3)(1); § 2K2.1 (see also § 4B1.4).
126. For example, in the federal system, possession of 10 grams of
LSD, 50 grams of methamphetamine, or 280 grams of crack
cocaine with intent to distribute results in a 10-year mandatory
minimum sentence. The mandatory sentence for these drug
amounts rises to 20 years if it is a second offense, and life
without-parole if it as a third offense. 21 U.S.C. §§ 841(a),
841(b)(1)(A); § 2D1.1.
127. 21 U.S.C. §§ 841(a), 841(b)(1)(A); § 2D1.1.
128. United States v. Booker, 543 U.S. 220 (2005).
129. E.g., flA. sTAT. § 893.135(c) (2011) (establishing a 25-year
mandatory minimum for possession or sale of 28 grams or more
of heroin, morphine, or other opiates); lA. rev. sTAT. ANN. § (B)
(1) (2011) (establishing a mandatory minimum sentence of five
years in prison for possession or distribution of certain drugs).
130. AlA. code § 13A-12-231(3)(d) (1995).
131. miss. code ANN. § 41-29-139(f) (West 2011).
132. Sourcebook of Criminal Justice Statistics Online, Table
6.0027.2009, supra note 111.
133. Matt Groff, Questions on the 1315 Chart (Oct. 2012), available
at http://www.mattgroff.com/questions-on-the-1315-project
chart/; Matt Groff, Updating the 1315 Chart (Oct. 2012),
available at http://www.mattgroff.com/updating-the-1315-chart/.
134. PAUl gUeriNo eT Al., U.s. deP’T of jUsTice, bUreAU of jUsTice
sTATisTics, PrisoNers iN 2010 28 tbl.16A (2011), available at
http://bjs.ojp.usdoj.gov/content/pub/pdf/p10.pdf; chrisToPher
j. mUmolA & AlleN j. becK, U.s. deP’T of jUsTice, bUreAU of

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 213

jUsTice sTATisTics, PrisoNers iN 1996 10 tbl.13 (1997), available
at http://bjs.ojp.usdoj.gov/content/pub/pdf/p96.pdf.
135. gUeriNo eT Al., supra note 134, at 28 tbl.16B; mUmolA & becK,
supra note 134, at 11 tbl.14. .
136. Andre M. Davis, Mandatory Minimum Sentences Impede Justice,
bAlTimore sUN, Dec. 8, 2011.
137. Statement of the Honorable Judge Andre M. Davis, United States
Circuit Judge, United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth
Circuit, Public Hearing on Federal Sentencing Options after
Booker, United States Sentencing Commission, Feb. 16, 2012.
138. Judge Mark W. Bennett, How Mandatory Minimums Forced Me
to Send More Than 1,000 Nonviolent Drug Offenders to Federal
Prison, The NATioN, Oct. 24, 2012.
139. Id.
140. Id.
141. What the Experts Say, fAmilies AgAiNsT mANdATory
miNimUms (last visited Oct. 25, 2013), http://www.famm.org/
aboutsentencing/WhattheExpertsSay.aspx.
142. Attorney General Eric Holder, Remarks at the Annual Meeting
of the American Bar Association’s House of Delegates, San
Francisco, Aug. 12, 2013.
143. Pew ceNTer oN The sTATes, Time served: The high cosT, low
reTUrN of loNger PrisoN Terms 7 (2012), available at http://
www.pewstates.org/uploadedFiles/PCS_Assets/2012/Prison_
Time_Served.pdf.
144. Michael G. Turner et al., “Three Strikes and You’re Out”: A
National Assessment, fed. ProbATioN 16 (1995).
145. Michael Vitiello, Three Strikes: Can We Return to Rationality?,
87 j. crim. l. & crimiNology 395, 395-96 (1997).
146. wAsh. rev. code 9.92.090 (wesT 2012).
147. Vitiello, supra note 145, at 400 n.25, 463-81.
148. Nev. rev. sTAT. § 207.010(b) (West 2009).
149. Jessica Langdon, Man sentenced to 50 years for cocaine
possession, wichiTA-fAlls Times record News, June 25, 2010.
Possession of cocaine, a penalty group 1 substance, is a thirddegree felony. See Tex. heAlTh & sAfeTy code ANN. § 481.115
(West 2009). Third-degree felonies carry 2- to 10-year sentences;
see Tex. PeNAl code ANN. § 12.34 (West 2009).
150. E.g., No exiT, supra note 12, at 27.
151. 21 U.s.c.A. §§ 860, 849, 861, 841(b)(1)(A) (wesT 2010); AlA.
code §§ 13A-12-233, 13A-5-9(c)(4), 15-22-27.2 (2012); gA.
code. ANN. § 17-10-7(c) (West 2012); 730 ill. comP. sTAT. ANN.
5/5-4.5-95, 5/3-3-3 (West 2012); iowA code ANN. §§ 124.401d,
902.1 (West 2012); lA. rev. sTAT. ANN. §§ 15:529.1(A)(3)(b),
15:529.1(A)(4)(b) (2012); mich. comP. lAws ANN. § 333.7413(1)
(West 2012); oKlA. sTAT. ANN. TiT. 63, § 2-415(D)(3) (West
2012). The states in which all strikes can be nonviolent are
Alabama, Georgia, Illinois, Iowa, Louisiana, Michigan, and
Oklahoma. See also Charles J. Ogletree Jr. & Austin Sarat,
Introduction: Lives on the Line: From Capital Punishment to Life
without Parole, in life wiThoUT PArole: AmericA’s New deATh
PeNAlTy?, supra note 14, at 1, 4-5.
152. About 3 Strikes, fAmilies To AmeNd cAliforNiA’s Three sTriKes
(last visited Oct. 25, 2013), available at http://facts1.live.
radicaldesigns.org/article.php?list=type&type=55.
153. Sentencing Reform Act of 1984, Pub. L. No. 98-471, 98 Stat.
1987 (1984).

214 American Civil Liberties Union

154. TimoThy A. hUghes eT Al., U.s. deP’T of jUsTice, bUreAU of
jUsTice sTATisTics, TreNds iN sTATe PArole, 1990-2000 1 (2001),
available at http://bjs.ojp.usdoj.gov/content/pub/pdf/tsp00.pdf.
155. PAUlA m. diTToN & doris jAmes wilsoN, U.s. deP’T of jUsTice,
bUreAU of jUsTice sTATisTics, TrUTh iN seNTeNciNg iN sTATe
PrisoNs (1999).
156. Model Penal Code: Sentencing, supra note 46.
157. See, e.g., PUNishmeNT ANd iNeqUAliTy iN AmericA, supra note 112,
at 43-45; Time served, supra note 143.
158. Time served, supra note 143, at 2.
159. Id. at 3.
160. Data provided by the Louisiana Department of Corrections
and Mississippi Department of Corrections in response to open
records requests filed by the ACLU.
161. State v. Barbosa, No. 01-CF-016324 (Fla. 13th Cir. Ct. Aug. 26,
2010).
162. See Affidavit of Clarence Aaron in support of petition for
commutation, Oct. 23, 2001; Affidavit of Clarence Aaron in
support of petition for commutation, Nov. 15, 2007.
163. See United States v. Chisholm et al., 73 F.3d 304 (1996).
164. Id.
165. Id.
166. Letter from Linda Aaron-McNeil, submitted to the Pardon
Attorney on Aug. 14, 2012.
167. Order denying defendant’s motion for resentencing, United

States v. Aaron, No. 1:93-cr-000008-CB-C (S.D. Ala. Sept.
29, 2008).

168. Dafna Linzer, Clarence Aaron Was Denied Commutation, But
Bush Team Wasn’t Told All the Facts, wAshiNgToN PosT, May 13,
2012.
169. Dafna Linzer, Head of Pardons Office Withheld Facts from
White House in Key Case, ProPUblicA, Dec. 18, 2012; Dafna
Linzer, Pardon Attorney Torpedos Plea for Presidential Mercy,
ProPUblicA, May 13, 2012.
170. Debra J. Saunders, Obama Must Reform Presidential Pardons,
sAN frANcisco chroNicle, May 27, 2012.
171. See Affidavit of Clarence Aaron in support of petition for
commutation, Oct. 23, 2001; Affidavit of Clarence Aaron in
support of petition for commutation, Nov. 15, 2007.
172. ACLU telephone interview with Sharanda Jones, Federal
Medical Center Carswell, Fort Worth, Texas, Mar. 8, 2013.
173. Id.
174. United States v. Jones, No. 99-11299 (5th Cir. Feb. 16, 2001).
175. Id.
176. Id.
177. Id.
178. Id.
179. Id.
180. ACLU telephone interview with Sharanda Jones, supra note 172.
181. Id.
182. ACLU telephone interview with Brittany Byrd, attorney
for Sharanda Jones, Dallas, Texas, Mar. 5, 2013; e-mail
communication to the ACLU from Brittany Byrd, Mar. 12, 2013.
183. E-mail communication from Sharanda Jones, Federal Medical
Center Carswell, Fort Worth, Texas, Apr. 2, 2013.
184. Letter from Clenesha Garland, Mar. 13, 2013.
185. ACLU telephone interview with Sharanda Jones, supra note 172.

186. The wAr oN drUgs (Parallel Universe Documentary 2007),
available at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AfxmDDks0dc
(excerpt featuring Sharanda Jones).
187. ACLU telephone interview with Sharanda Jones, supra note 172.
188. Letter from Clenesha Garland, supra note 184.
189. Letter from Sharanda Jones, Federal Medical Center Carswell,
Fort Worth, Texas, Mar. 14, 2013.
190. Id.
191. Id.
192. United States v. Tolliver et al., 61 F.3d 1189 (5th Cir. 1995).
193. Id.
194. Id.
195. Id.
196. miKKi Noris, chris coNrAd, & virgiNiA resNer, shATTered
lives: PorTrAiTs from AmericA’s drUg wAr 13 (1998).
197. Nell berNsTeiN, All AloNe iN The world: childreN of The
iNcArcerATed 46-47 (2005).
198. Id. at 28.
199. Id.
200. doNAld evANs, from misedUcATioN To iNcArcerATioN (2004).
201. Letter to the ACLU from Danielle Metz, Federal Correctional
Institution Dublin, Dublin, California, July 28, 2013.
202. evANs, supra note 200.
203. ACLU telephone interview with Adrian Bernard, June 25, 2013.
204. Id.
205. Id.
206. The Louisiana Justice Institute, Danielle Metz, A Prisoner of the
US Drug War, July 18, 2011.
207. ACLU telephone interview with Brittany Byrd, attorney
for Michael Wilson, Dallas, Texas, Mar. 5, 2013; e-mail
communication to the ACLU from Brittany Byrd, Mar. 12, 2013.
208. Id.
209. ACLU telephone interview with Michael Fitzgerald Wilson,
Victorville United States Penitentiary, Adelanto, California, Mar.
20, 2013.
210. Id.
211. Id. at 13.
212. United States v. Webster, 151 F.3d 1034 (7th Cir. 1998).
213. Transcript of Record, Sentencing Hearing Before The Honorable
James B. Zagel at 10, United States v. Webster, No. 95-CR-126-1
(N. D. Ill. Mar. 21, 1996).
214. Id. at 11.
215. Id. at 13.
216. Id.; United States v. Webster, 151 F.3d 1034 (7th Cir. 1998);
Webster v. United States, No. 09-2308 (7th Cir. Dec. 19, 2011).
217. ACLU telephone interview with Jesse Webster, Greenville
Federal Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, June 11,
2013.
218. Id.
219. Letter to President Barack Obama from Hon. James B. Zagel
of the United States District Court for the Northern District
of Illinois in support of the application of Jesse Webster for
commutation of sentence, June 12, 2013.
220. Id.
221. Id.
222. ACLU telephone interview with Jesse Webster, supra note 217.
223. United States v. Booker, 115 F.3d 442, 442 (7th Cir. 1997).
224. United States v. Booker, No. 3:93CR00062-01 (N.D. Ind., 1995).
225. United States v. Booker, No. 3:93CR62-1 (N.D. Ind., 1996).

226. United States v. Booker, No. 3:93-CR-62RM (N.D. Ind., 1997).
227. United States v. Booker, 115 F.3d 442 (7th Cir. 1997) (Evans, T.,
dissenting).
228. Letter to ACLU from Robert Booker, Schuylkill Federal
Correctional Institution, Minersville, Pennsylvania, Mar. 21,
2013.
229. Id.
230. Id.
231. Robert Booker Petition for Commutation of Sentence at 7.
232. ACLU telephone interview with Robert Booker, Schuylkill
Federal Correctional Institution, Minersville, Pennsylvania, Mar.
13, 2013.
233. Letter to ACLU from Robert Booker, supra note 228.
234. Letter to the ACLU from Teresa Griffin, Tallahassee Federal
Correctional Institution, Tallahassee, Florida, July 2, 2013.
235. ACLU telephone interview with Teresa Griffin, Tallahassee
Federal Correctional Institution, Tallahassee, Florida, July 2,
2013.
236. Letter to the ACLU from Teresa Griffin, supra note 234.
237. Id.
238. Id.
239. United States v. Griffin, 7 F.3d 1512, 1514 (10th Cir. 1993).
240. Id.
241. ACLU telephone interview with Teresa Griffin, supra note 235.
242. Id.
243. United States v. Griffin, 7 F.3d at 1514; United States v. Griffin,
48 F.3d 1147, 1148 (10th Cir. 1993); United States v. AnguloLopez, 7 F.3d 1506, 1508 (10th Cir. 1993).
244. United States v. Angulo-Lopez, 7 F.3d at 1511.
245. Ed Godfrey, 2 Ring Leaders Sentenced to Life Without Parole,
oKlAhomAN, Oct. 29, 1992.
246. Ed Godfrey, Texas Woman Gets Life Term in Drug Case,
NewsoK.com (Oct. 27, 1992, 12:00 AM), http://newsok.com/
texas-woman-gets-life-term-in-drug-case/article/2410559.
247. United States v. Griffin, 7 F.3d 1512.
248. Id.
249. Letter to the ACLU from Teresa Griffin, Tallahassee Federal
Correctional Institution, Tallahassee, Florida, May 15, 2013.
250. Id.
251. Letter to the ACLU from Teresa Griffin, supra note 234.
252. Letter to the ACLU from Teresa Griffin, supra note 249.
253. ACLU telephone interview with Teresa Griffin, supra note 235.
254. Thug Cop Redemption Author Turns Obstacles into Successes,
sAvANNAh TribUNe, Feb. 1, 2012.
255. Id.; ACLU telephone interview with Tommy Bryant, Jesup
Federal Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, July 17, 2013.
256. Letter to the ACLU from Tommy Bryant, Jesup Federal
Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, Mar. 28, 2013;
Presentence Investigation Report, United States v. Bryant, No.
CR497-00182-001 (S.D. Ga., Jan. 7, 1998).
257. Letter to the ACLU from Tommy Bryant, supra note 256..
258. ACLU telephone interview with Tommy Bryant, supra note 255;
Presentence Investigation Report, United States v. Bryant, supra
note 256.
259. Presentence Investigation Report, United States v. Bryant, supra
note 256.
260. Letter to the ACLU from Tommy Bryant, supra note 256.
261. ACLU telephone interview with Tommy Bryant, supra note 255.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 215

262. Presentence Investigation Report, United States v. Bryant, supra
note 256.
263. Id.
264. Id.
265. Id.
266. Id.
267. Ben Schmitt, Officers get their day in court, Testimony gets under
way, sAvANNAh morNiNg News (Nov. 18, 1997), available at
http://savannahnow.com/stories/111897/NWScoptrial.html.
268. ACLU telephone interview with Tommy Bryant, supra note 255.
269. Id.
270. Letter to the ACLU from Tommy Bryant, supra note 256.
271. Id.
272. Id.
273. Thug Cop Redemption Author Turns Obstacles into Successes,
supra note 254.
274. Letter to the ACLU from Tommy Bryant, supra note 256.
275. Id.
276. Id.
277. Indictment, United States v. McDonald et al. (W.D. Tenn., Nov.
21, 1994); United States v. McDonald et al., 173 F.3d 430, 1999
WL 149658 (6th Cir. 1999), cert. denied, 528 U.S. 873 (1999).
278. United States v. McDonald et al., 173 F.3d 430.
279. See id.
280. Id.
281. ACLU telephone interview with Alice Marie Johnson, Federal
Medical Center Carswell, Fort Worth, Texas, Apr. 16, 2013.
282. Id.
283. Letter to the ACLU from Alice Marie Johnson, Federal Medical
Center Carswell, Fort Worth, Texas, Apr. 3, 2013.
284. ACLU telephone interview with Tretessa Johnson, Phoenix,
Arizona, May 13, 2013.
285. Id.
286. Id.
287. Petition for Commutation of Sentence, Alice Marie Johnson.
288. Letter to the ACLU from Alice Marie Johnson, supra note 283.
289. Initial Brief of Appellant at 6, Ortiz v. Florida, No. 02-5081 (Fla.
13th Cir. Ct. 2003).
290. Id. at 9.
291. Transcript of Record at 19, Florida v. Barbosa, No. 01-CF
016324 (Fla. 13th Cir. Ct. Aug. 26, 2010).
292. Adams v. Department of Corrections, No. 8:07-CV-1880-T
27EAJ at 7 (M.D. Fla. 2011).
293. Initial Brief of Appellant at 9, Ortiz v. Florida, No. 02-5081.
294. Id. at 7.
295. Id. at 13.
296. Id. at 7.
297. Motion to Correct Illegal Sentence at 13, Ortiz v. Florida No.
01CF-16324 (Fla. 13th Cir. Ct. May 11, 2012.)
298. Id.
299. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, Sumter Correctional
Institution, Bushnell, Florida, Mar. 26, 2013; Transcript of
Record at 20, Florida v. Barbosa, No. 01-CF-016324 (Fla. 13th
Cir. Ct. Aug. 26, 2010).
300. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, supra note 299.
301. Id.
302. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, Sumter Correctional
Institution, Bushnell, Florida, July 31, 2013.
303. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, supra note 299.

216 American Civil Liberties Union

304. Id.
305. E-mail communication to the ACLU from [name withheld at
correction officer’s request], Florida, Aug. 10, 2013.
306. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, supra note 299.
307. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, supra note 302.
308. Id.
309. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, Sumter Correctional
Institution, Bushnell, Florida, Aug. 14, 2013.
310. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, supra note 302.
311. Letter to the ACLU from Roberto Ortiz, supra note 299.
312. Indictment, United States v. Douglas et al., 4:92-CR-141-Y (N.D.
Tex. Aug. 26, 1992).
313. United States v. Fike et al., 82 F.3d 1315 (5th Cir. 1996);
Sentencing Transcript, United States v. Douglas, 4:92-CR-141-Y
(N.D. Texas Aug. 30, 1993)..
314. Sentencing Transcript at 5, United States v. Douglas, 4:92-CR
141-Y.
315. Id. at 15.
316. ACLU telephone interview with Altonio O’Shea Douglas, El
Reno Federal Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, July
1, 2013.
317. Id.
318. Fox 4 News Broadcast, Dallas Fort Worth, Nov. 21, 1996.
319. Letter to the ACLU from Altonio O’Shea Douglas, El Reno
Federal Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, Mar. 11,
2009.
320. ACLU telephone interview with Altonio O’Shea Douglas, supra
note 316.
321. Id.
322. Id.
323. United States v. Morales et al., 861 F.2d 396 (3rd Cir. 1988).
324. Id.
325. Presentence Investigation Report, United States v. Viera, No.
GCR 89-01018-08 (N.D. Fla. Jan. 22, 1990).
326. Id.
327. Id.; United States v. Viera, No. 1:89-cr-01018-MP-GRJ-1 (11th
Cir. 2013).
328. Letter to the ACLU from Luis Lazaro Viera, Coleman Medium
Federal Correctional Institution, Coleman, Florida, Mar. 10,
2013.
329. Id.
330. Presentence Investigation Report at 7-8, United States v.
Martinez, No. 91 CR 53-2 (N.D. Ill. Mar. 27, 1992).
331. Sentencing Transcript at 46-50, United States v. Martinez, No.
91-Cr-53 (N.D. Ill. Apr. 23, 1992).
332. ACLU telephone interview with Rudy Martinez, United States
Penitentiary McCreary, Pine Knot, Kentucky, Mar. 5, 2013.
333. Sentencing Transcript at 45, United States v. Martinez, No. 91
Cr-53.
334. Bruce Rubenstein, No Way Out, miNNeAPolis sT. PAUl mAgAziNe,
May 1, 2012.
335. Presentence Investigation Report at 2, 10, United States v.
Martinez, No. 91 CR 53-2.
336. Letter dated Dec. 20, 2005, quoted in Rubenstein, supra note
334.
337. Rubenstein, supra note 334.
338. Sentencing Transcript at 78, 80, United States v. Martinez, No.
91-Cr-53.
339. Id. at 70, 78-80.

340. MacNeil/Lehrer NewsHour broadcast, Sept. 1, 1992.
341. Letter from Judge Milton I. Shadur to Bruce Rubenstein dated
Dec. 5, 2010, quoted in Rubenstein, supra note 334.
342. Id.
343. E-mail communication from Rudy Martinez, United States
Penitentiary McCreary, Pine Knot, Kentucky, Mar. 4, 2013.
344. ACLU telephone interview with Rudy Martinez, supra note 332.
345. E-mail communication from Rudy Martinez, supra note 343.
346. Dane Schiller, Love Led Grandmother to Drug Smugglers,
Prison, hoUsToN chroNicle, June 16, 2009.
347. Dane Schiller, Drug Crime Sends First-Time Offender
Grandmom to Prison for Life, hoUsToN chroNicle, May 9, 2012.
348. Dane Schiller, Love Led Grandmother to Drug Smugglers,
Prison, supra note 346.
349. United States v. Martorano, 866 F.2d 62 (3rd Cir. 1989); United
States v. Martorano, 782 F.2d 1032 (3rd Cir. 1986).
350. Alex Pickett, Second Life, creATive loAfiNg TAmPA, July 11,
2007.
351. Letter to the ACLU from George Martorano, Coleman Medium
Federal Correctional Institution, Coleman, Florida, Feb. 5, 2013.
352. Id.
353. Kitty Caparella, He’s Hoping to Write his Way out of Prison,
PhilAdelPhiA dAily News, Dec. 5, 1995.
354. Rockford Public Schools, Pupil Permanent Record for Reynolds
Wintersmith Jr.
355. Annie Sweeney, Supporters Seek Freedom for Convict Serving
Life Sentence for First-Time Conviction, chicAgo TribUNe, Oct.
2, 2011.
356. Presentence Investigation Report, United States v. Wintersmith,
at 15, line 608.
357. Rockford Public Schools, Pupil Permanent Record for Reynolds
Wintersmith Jr.
358. United States v. Edwards et al., 105 F.3d 1179 (7th Cir. 1997).
359. Wintersmith received sentencing enhancements for possessing
a firearm and for being a leader in the conspiracy. Sentencing
Transcript, United States v. Edwards et al., No. 93-cr-20024-18
(N.D. Ill Nov. 23, 1994).
360. Judgment and Conviction Order, United States v. Edwards et al.,
93-cr-20024-18.
361. Sentencing Transcript, United States v. Edwards et al., No. 93-cr
20024-18.
362. Id.
363. Id.
364. Petition for Commutation of Reynolds Wintersmith at 1.
365. Letter to President Barack Obama from Chonte’ Neely, Jan. 22,
2012.
366. Blog, Justice for Wintersmith, available at http://
justiceforwintersmith.blogspot.com/.
367. Letter to President Obama from Reynolds Wintersmith Jr., Feb.
23, 2012.
368. Brief of Appellant at 9, Allen v. United States, No. 98-3174 (11th
Cir. Dec. 24, 1998).
369. Id.
370. See Id.
371. See Id. at 10.
372. Id. at 11.
373. Id.
374. Id. at 12.
375. Id. at 14.

376. Id. at 18.
377. Letter to the ACLU from Donald Allen, Marianna Federal
Correctional Institution, Marianna, Florida, June 1, 2013.
378. Notice of Potential Attorney Representation Conflict, United
States v. Allen, No. 5:98CR6/LAC (N.D. Fla.).
379. United States v. Allen, No. 5:98CR00006-002 (N.D. Fla. Aug.
21, 1998).
380. Letter to the ACLU from Donald Allen, Marianna Federal
Correctional Institution, Marianna, Florida, June 1, 2013.
381. United States v. Allen, No. 5:98CR00006-002.
382. See Brief of Appellant at 5, United States v. Allen, No. 98-3174
(11th Cir. Dec. 24, 1998).
383. Letter to the ACLU from Donald Allen, Marianna Federal
Correctional Institution, Marianna, Florida, June 1, 2013.
384. Id.
385. Id.
386. Id.
387. Id.
388. ACLU telephone interview with Pinkney Clowers III, Coleman
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Coleman, Florida, June
15, 2013.
389. United States v. Boyd, 131 F. 3d 951, 954 (11th Cir. 1997).
390. Id.
391. Id.
392. The conspiracy to distribute crack cocaine charge was
subsequently vacated. United States v. Boyd, 131 F. 3d at 954.
393. Letter to the ACLU from Pinkney Clowers III, Coleman Medium
Federal Correctional Institution, Coleman, Florida, June 1, 2013.
394. United States v. Clowers, No. 5:92-cr-00082-CAR-CHW-2 (11th
Cir. July 31, 2102).
395. ACLU telephone interview with Pinkney Clowers III, Coleman
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Coleman, Florida, June
15, 2013.
396. Id.
397. Letter to the ACLU from Pinkney Clowers III, supra note 393.
398. Id.
399. Id.
400. Id.
401. Id.
402. Id.
403. Id.
404. Id.
405. Letter to the ACLU from Ira Bernard Parker, Marion Correctional
Institution, Lowell, Florida, Mar. 20, 2013.
406. Id.
407. Id.
408. Id.
409. Id.
410. Id.
411. Id.
412. Id.
413. Id.
414. Id.
415. United States v. Booker, 543 U.S. 220 (2005).
416. AlA. code § 13A-12-231(2)(d); 231(3)d) (1995).
417. miss. code ANN. § 41-29-139(f) (West 2011).
418. These four state offenses were consolidated to two charges for
sentencing. Presentence Investigation Report, United States v.
George.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 217

419. Sentencing Transcript at 13, United States v. George (N.D. Fla.
May 5, 1997).
420. Id. at 11-12.
421. Savory McCuff, who was originally sentenced to 180 months,
later had his sentence reduced to 108 months after the
government’s cooperation motion was granted in exchange
for his testimony in George’s trial. Likewise, Alonzo Knight’s
sentence of 204 months was reduced to 162 months, Zachary
Butler’s life sentence was reduced to 120 months, and Donald
Hal’s sentence of 240 months was reduced to 234 months.
422. Dickey was initially sentenced to 320 months, but upon a postsentencing motion to reduce filed by the government, he was
resentenced to 150 months. He was released from prison in 2007.
423. ACLU telephone interview with Stephanie George, Federal
Correctional Institution Tallahassee, Tallahassee, June 25, 2013.
424. Id.
425. Id.
426. Id.
427. Letter from Kendra Dickey, Nov. 15, 2012.
428. Letter from William George, Nov. 22, 2012.
429. Memorandum in Support of the Petition of Stephanie Yvette
George for Commutation of Sentence at 12.
430. Minor’s prior convictions were for assault and trespass (1991);
sale of marijuana (1992); possession of marijuana with intent
to distribute (1992); possession of cocaine and resisting arrest
without violence (1996); sale and delivery of a controlled
substance (1999); battery and breach of peace (2000); possession
of methamphetamine (2000); and battery on a law enforcement
officer and resisting arrest without violence (2000). The 2000
conviction for battery on a law enforcement officer was for
pushing a deputy who was attempting to arrest him.
431. Families against Mandatory Minimums, Federal Profiles: Ricky
Minor.
432. ACLU telephone interview with Ricky Minor, Williamsburg
Federal Correctional Institution, Salters, South Carolina, Mar. 6,
2013.
433. Id.
434. Id.
435. Minor v. United States, No. 4:10-cv-02325-RMG (D.S.C. Oct.
25, 2010).
436. Sentencing transcript, United States v. Minor.
437. ACLU telephone interview with Judy Minor, Niceville, Florida,
Mar. 5, 2013.
438. ACLU telephone interview with Ricky Minor, supra note 432.
439. Id.
440. ACLU telephone interview with Heather Minor, Niceville,
Florida, Mar. 7, 2013.
441. Id.
442. ACLU telephone interview with Ricky Minor, supra note 432.
443. Id.
444. ACLU telephone interview with Judy Minor, supra note 437.
445. ACLU telephone interview with Dicky Joe Jackson, Forrest City
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Forrest City, Arkansas,
Mar. 12, 2013.
446. Id.
447. United States v. Jackson et al., No. 96-10598 (5th Cir. Apr. 15,
1997).
448. ACLU telephone interview with Cole Jackson, Plano, Texas,
Mar. 13, 2013.

218 American Civil Liberties Union

449. ACLU telephone interview with Dicky Joe Jackson, supra note
445.
450. Id.
451. Letter to the ACLU from Dicky Joe Jackson, Forrest City
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Forrest City, Arkansas,
Mar. 7, 2013.
452. Letter to April Anderson from Judge Michael R. Snipes, Criminal
District Court #7, Dallas County Veterans Court, Jan. 30, 2013.
453. Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Tyler, Canaan United States
Penitentiary, Waymart, Pennsylvania, Mar. 4, 2013.
454. Sentencing transcript at 50, United States v. Tyler, No.
92-226-CR-T-23A, (M.D. Fl, July 19, 1994).
455. Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Tyler, supra note 453.
456. Id.
457. Id.
458. Id.
459. Id.
460. ACLU telephone interview with Carrie Tyler-Stoafer, Las Vegas,
Nevada, Mar. 15, 2013.
461. Id.
462. John Tierney, Life without Parole: Four Inmates’ Stories, N.y.
Times, Dec. 12, 2012.
463. Presentence Investigation Report at 31, United States v. Walker,
No. 0754 4:96CR40094-00` (S.D. Ill, June 18, 1998).
464. Brief in Support of Petition of Scott Walker at 4 in Scott Walker
Petition for Commutation of Sentence.
465. Presentence Investigation Report at 31, United States v. Walker,
No. 0754 4:96CR40094-00
466. Id. at 32.
467. Id. at 33.
468. Id.
469. United States v. Walker, No. 99-2645 and 99-1933 (7th Cir. 2000).
470. Presentence Investigation Report at 25, United States v. Walker,
No. 0754 4:96CR40094-001.
471. United States v. Walker, No. 99-2645 and 99-1933.
472. Sentencing Transcript at 151, United States v. Scott Walker, Cr.
96-CR-40094 (S.D. Ill Apr. 9, 1999).
473. Id. at 155.
474. Letter to President Barack Obama from J. Phil Gilbert, U.S.
District Judge (Feb. 28, 2011) in Scott Walker Petition for
Commutation of Sentence.
475. Gilbert Steps Down as Chief Judge, soUTherN illiNoisAN, Oct. 8,
2000, at 9A.
476. Attachment E, Prison Disciplinary Records in Scott Walker
Petition for Commutation of Sentence.
477. Attachment F, Educational/Vocational Records, Certificates, and
Awards in Scott Walker Petition for Commutation of Sentence.
478. Attachment I, Family and Friend Support Letters in Scott Walker
Petition for Commutation of Sentence.
479. ACLU telephone interview with Scott Walker, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, Mar. 7, 2013.
480. Brief in Support of Petition of Scott Walker at 9 in Scott Walker
Petition for Commutation of Sentence.
481. Quoted in Professor David M. Zlotnick, Federal Sentencing
Study, Profiles, Judge J. Phil Gilbert.
482. Brief in Support of Petition of Scott Walker at 2 in Scott Walker
Petition for Commutation of Sentence.
483. These prior convictions were for the following small amounts
of drugs: marijuana (1.75 and 5.25 grams), hashish (3 grams),

and amphetamines (valued at $25). Professor David M. Zlotnick,
Federal Sentencing Study, Profiles, Judge Ronald E. Longstaff.
484. Professor David M. Zlotnick, Federal Sentencing Study, Profiles,
Judge Ronald E. Longstaff.
485. Letter to the ACLU from Robert J. Riley, Pollock United States
Penitentiary Satellite Camp, Pollock, Louisiana, Mar. 18, 2013.
486. Professor David M. Zlotnick, Federal Sentencing Study, Profiles,
Judge Ronald E. Longstaff.
487. Sentencing Transcript at 54-55, United States v. Arionus, Cr. 93
10 (S.D. Iowa Nov. 4, 1993).
488. Id. at 55.
489. David M. Zlotnick, The Future of Federal Sentencing Policy:
Learning Lessons from Republican Judicial Appointees in the
Guidelines Era, 79 U. colo. l. rev. 1 (2007).
490. Letter to Roger C. Adams, Pardon Attorney, from Judge Ronald
E. Longstaff at 1, Feb. 27, 2002.
491. Sentencing Transcript at 45, United States v. Arionus, Cr. 93-10.
492. Id. at 44-47.
493. Letter to the ACLU from Robert J. Riley, supra note 485.
494. United States v. Harvey, 946 F.2d 1375 (8th Cir. 1991).
495. Harvey was convicted of California state charges in 1984, at the
age of 19, for maintaining a place for the sale of cocaine, and
also in 1987, at age 22, for possession of cocaine with the intent
to distribute.
496. Sentencing transcript at 14, United States v. Harvey (W.D. Mo.
1990); see also United States v. Harvey, 946 F.2d 1375, 1377 (8th
Cir. 1991).
497. See United States v. Harvey, 946 F.2d 1375, 1377 (8th Cir.
1991) (“Chief Judge Sachs was troubled by the necessity of
imposing a sentence of life imprisonment without release on
Harvey, who was 24 years old at the time. He observed that
‘the prior drug offenses, although felonies, were not serious
enough to merit imprisonment and appear to be only technically
within the statutory punishment plan’…. The Court also viewed
Harvey’s immaturity of judgment [as] a consideration…[and]
recommended that Harvey be given executive clemency after
serving fifteen years…. We agree with this recommendation.
As the Supreme Court noted in Harmelin, 111 S. Ct. at 2702,
executive clemency is one of the “flexible techniques” for
modifying sentences. The existence of these techniques is one
reason for the Supreme Court’s holding that the type of sentence
imposed in this case does not violate the Eighth Amendment.
We instruct counsel for the United States to deliver a copy of the
sentencing transcript and of this opinion to those persons within
the Department of Justice whose responsibility it is to consider
requests for executive clemency.”).
498. Under the Fair Sentencing Act, a person convicted of 50 grams
of crack with one or more prior drug convictions would be
subject to a 10-year mandatory minimum sentence under 21
U.S.C. § 841(b)(1)(B). While it is likely that a higher guidelines
sentence would apply to Harvey’s case under the career
offender guidelines (see USSG 4B1.1), sentencing judges now
have discretion to impose a below-guidelines sentence where
circumstances warrant it. Based on the record in Harvey’s case,
it is more than likely that Judge Sachs, freed from the constraints
of a mandatory minimum, would have imposed the 15-year
sentence he originally considered appropriate in the case.

499. Letter to the ACLU from Kenneth George Harvey Jr., Beaumont
United States Penitentiary Satellite Camp, Beaumont, Texas, Apr.
17, 2013.
500. Id.
501. Petition for Commutation of Sentence of Kenneth George
Harvey, Mar. 2010.
502. ACLU telephone interview with Kenneth George Harvey Jr.,
Beaumont United States Penitentiary Satellite Camp, Beaumont,
Texas, Apr. 26, 2013.
503. Id.
504. Robinson was convicted of conspiring to distribute and possess
with intent to distribute cocaine base. United States v. Robinson,
110 F.3d 1320 (8th Cir. 1997).
505. Id.
506. Id. (J. Heaney, concurring).
507. Joy Powell, Crack Sentence Harsher than Most Killers, omAhA
world-herAld, Mar. 2, 1996, at 1, 1996 WL 6007723 (quoting
Judge Strom at the sentencing hearing).
508. Id.
509. Id.
510. United States v. Robinson, 110 F.3d 1320 (8th Cir. 1997) (J.
Heaney, concurring).
511. Letter to the ACLU from Clarence Robinson, Lewisburg

United States Penitentiary, Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, Mar.
7, 2013.
512. Id.
513. Chester v. Haynes, No. CV211-026, 2011 WL 8186752 at
*1 (M.D. Ga. July 25, 2011).
514. Sentencing Transcript at 3, United States v. Chester, No.
92-122-CR-T-25B (M.D. Fla. Feb. 11, 1994).

515. Sherman Chester, Federal Profiles: Sherman Chester, fAmilies
AgAiNsT mANdATory miNimUms.
516. Letter to the ACLU from Sherman Dionne Chester, Jesup Federal
Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, Apr. 14, 2013.
517. Chester v. Haynes, No. CV211-026, 2011 WL 8186752 at *1;
letter to the ACLU from Sherman Dionne Chester, Jesup Federal
Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, Apr. 14, 2013.
518. Id.
519. Federal Profiles: Sherman Chester, supra note 515.
520. Sentencing Transcript, United States v. Chester, No. 92-122-CR
T-25B.
521. Federal Profiles: Sherman Chester, supra note 515.
522. Sentencing Transcript at 12, United States v. Chester, No.
92-122-CR-T-25B.
523. Id. at 15.
524. Letter to the ACLU from Sherman Dionne Chester, supra note
516; Federal Profiles: Sherman Chester, supra note 515.
525. Letter to the ACLU from Sherman Dionne Chester, supra note
516.
526. Sherman Chester Inmate Skills Development Plan, Apr. 4, 2013.
527. Letter to the ACLU from Sherman Dionne Chester, supra note
516.
528. Id.
529. United States v. Darden, 149 F.3d 1171, 1998 WL 340400 (4th
Cir. June 16, 1998).
530. Id.
531. Id.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 219

532. Id.
533. State v. Darden, 612 A.2d 339 (Md. Ct. Spec. App. Sept. 9,
1992).
534. United States v. Darden, 149 F.3d 1171.
535. Sentencing transcript, United States v. Darden (D. Md.

1996).

536. Letter to the ACLU from Ricky Darden, Otisville Federal
Correctional Institution, Otisville, New York, Mar. 11, 2013.
537. Id.
538. United States v. [name redacted at prisoner’s request], No. 10
4199 (4th Cir. June 17, 2011).
539. Id.
540. Id.
541. J.A. 311, quoted in United States v. [name redacted at prisoner’s
request], No. 10-4199 (Davis, J., concurring).
542. United States v. [name redacted at prisoner’s request], No. 10
4199.
543. Id. (Davis, J., concurring).
544. ACLU telephone interview with [name withheld at interviewee’s
request], Mar. 14, 2013.
545. State v. Mead, 36,131-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 8/14/02); 823 So.2d
1045.
546. Id.
547. Id.; State v. Mead, 42,674-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 11/14/07); 988
So.2d 740; State v. Mead, 42,674-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 7/23/08);
988 So.2d 740, 749; State v. Mead, 44,447-KA (La. App. 2 Cir.
8/13/09); 16 So.3d 470, 472.
548. Id.
549. Id.
550. Mead also had a conviction for armed robbery in 1979,
committed when he was 17 years old, which was not considered
for the purposes of sentencing under Louisiana’s multiple
offender law because more than 10 years had passed since the
conviction. State v. Mead, 64371 (La. 11/12/1979); 377 So.2d 79.
551. State v. Mead, 823 So.2d 1045.
552. State v. Mead, 988 So.2d 740.
553. Id.
554. Id. at 749; State v. Mead, 16 So.3d at 472.
555. State v. Mead, 40,406-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 4/19/06); 927 So.2d
1259.
556. Id.
557. Letter to the ACLU from Sylvester Mead, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Mar. 5, 2013.
558. Id.
559. Id.
560. Id.
561. Id.
562. lA. rev. sTAT. ANN. § 15:529.1(A)(3)(b).
563. lA. rev. sTAT. ANN. § 15:529.1(A)(4)(a).
564. flA. sTAT. ANN. § 775.084.
565. Id.
566. AlA. code § 13A-5-9.
567. Id.
568. AlA. code § 13A-12-233.
569. miss. code ANN. § 99-19-83.
570. Young v. State, 86 So.3d 261 (Miss. Ct. App. 2011).
571. For instance, Mark Kee Brown was sentenced to LWOP as a
habitual offender for felony escape from a detention center
while awaiting trial because of prior convictions for burglary

220 American Civil Liberties Union

of an unoccupied dwelling, two convictions for possession of a
controlled substance, and felony escape. The prosecutor asked
to charge Brown as a habitual offender based on the claim that
burglary of a dwelling constitutes a “crime of violence.” The
district court agreed, and the circuit court upheld Brown’s LWOP
sentence. Brown v. State, 102 So.3d 1130 (Miss. Ct. App. 2011).
572. Lyles v. State, 12 So.3d 532 (Miss. Ct. App. 2009).
573. s.c. code. ANN. § 17-25-45.
574. s.c. code. ANN. § 16-11-390.
575. s.c. code. ANN. § 16-11-380.
576. s.c. code. ANN. § 44-53-370(e)(2)(e).
577. s.c. code. ANN. § 44-53-375(C)(5).
578. s.c. code. ANN. § 17-25-45.
579. Id.
580. oKlA. sT. ANN. tit. 63,§ 2-415(D).
581. Id.
582. 21 U.S.C. §§ 841(b)(1)(A), 851.
583. 18 U.S.C. § 3559(c)(1).
584. A “serious drug offense” includes “an offense under state law
that, had the offense been prosecuted in a court of the United
States, would have been punishable under section 401(b)(1)(A)
or 408 of the Controlled Substances Act (21 U.S.C. § 841(b)(1)
(A), 848) or section 1010(b)(1)(A) of the Controlled Substances
Import and Export Act (21 U.S.C. § 960(b)(1)(A)).” 18 U.S.C. §
3559(c)(2)(H).
585. 18 U.S.C. § 3559(c)(2)(F)(i)-(ii).
586. 18 U.S.C. § 3559(c)(2)(H).
587. 18 U.S.C. § 924(e).
588. U.s. seNTeNciNg gUideliNes mANUAl § 4B1.1; § 2K2.1; ch. 4.
589. Letter to the ACLU from Kevin Ott, Oklahoma State
Penitentiary, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 10, 2013.
590. Ott v. State, No. F-97-588 (Okla. Crim. App. Sept. 23, 1998).
591. Id.
592. Id.
593. Letter to the ACLU from Kevin Ott, supra note 589.
594. ACLU telephone interview with Betty Chism, Norman,
Oklahoma, Mar. 11, 2013.
595. Id.
596. Id.
597. Letter to the ACLU from Kevin Ott, supra note 589.
598. Id.
599. ACLU telephone interview with Kevin Ott, Oklahoma State
Penitentiary, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 8, 2013.
600. State v. Williams, 669 S.E.2d 640 (S.C. Ct. App. 2008).
601. Id.
602. Letter to the ACLU from Onrae Williams, Lee Correctional
Institution, Bishopville, South Carolina, Mar. 18, 2013.
603. State v. Williams, 669 S.E.2d 640.
604. Id.
605. Id.
606. Id.
607. s.c. code. ANN. § 17-25-45.
608. ACLU telephone interview with Onrae Williams, Lee
Correctional Institution, Bishopville, South Carolina, Mar. 5,
2013.
609. Glenn Smith, Young Man Strikes Out for Life under Tough Law,
chArlesToN PosT ANd coUrier, Jan. 31, 2007.
610. Id.
611. Id.

612. ACLU telephone interview with Onrae Williams, supra note 608.
613. Id.
614. Tracy Vreeland, Man Gets Life Sentence for Burglary, wPde
NewschANNel 15, Nov. 15, 2012.
615. ACLU telephone interview with Anthony Jerome Jackson, Lieber
Correctional Institution, Ridgeville, South Carolina, Mar. 22,
2013; letter to the ACLU from Anthony Jerome Jackson, Lieber
Correctional Institution, Ridgeville, South Carolina, Mar. 28,
2013.
616. Letter to the ACLU from Anthony Jerome Jackson, supra note
615.
617. Police Roundup, myrTle beAch oNliNe, Nov. 16, 2012.
618. Letter to the ACLU from Anthony Jerome Jackson, supra note
615.
619. ACLU telephone interview with Anthony Jerome Jackson; letter
to the ACLU from Anthony Jerome Jackson, supra note 615.
620. Letter to the ACLU from Anthony Jerome Jackson, supra note
615.
621. Miles v. State, 864 So.2d 963 (Miss. Ct. App. 2003).
622. Id.
623. Id.
624. Id.
625. Id.
626. Young v. State, 86 So.3d 261 (Miss. Ct. App. 2011).
627. Id.
628. Id.
629. Id.
630. Letter to the ACLU from Robert Mathis, Dade Correctional
Institution, Florida City, Florida, May 14, 2013.
631. Id.
632. Id.
633. Letter to Robert Mathis from Robert Trogolo, Assistant Public
Defender, July 26, 1989.
634. Id.
635. Letter to the ACLU from Robert Lee Mathis, Dade Correctional
Institution, Florida City, Florida, May 14, 2013 (citing July 31,
1989, Order Adjudging Defendant Incompetent to Stand Trial).
636. Id. (citing Mar. 6, 1990, Written Order Determining
Competency).
637. Letter to the ACLU from Robert Lee Mathis, supra note 630.
638. Mathis v. State, No. 92-6238 (Fla. Ct. App. Jan. 25, 1993).
639. Letter to the ACLU from Robert Mathis, Dade Correctional
Institution, Florida City, Florida, May 14, 2013.
640. Id.
641. Id.
642. Id.
643. Id.
644. Id.
645. Id.
646. Id.
647. State v. Mosley, No. S-2010-755, 2011 OK CR20 (Okla. Crim.
App. July 19, 2011).
648. Id.
649. Letter to the ACLU from Daniel Gene Mosley, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, July 4, 2013.
650. Pre-Sentence Investigation, Daniel Gene Mosley, Cleveland
County Court, Feb. 27, 2010.
651. ACLU telephone interview with Daniel Gene Mosley, Oklahoma
State Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, June 12, 2013.

652. Letter to the ACLU from Daniel Gene Mosley, supra note 649.
653. ACLU telephone interview with Daniel Gene Mosley, supra note
651.
654. Id.
655. ACLU telephone interview with Christina Borg, Palm Beach
County, Florida, July 30, 2013.
656. Letter to the Palm Beach County Court from Toni Minnick, Sept.
24, 2008; letter to the ACLU from Lance Saltzman, Okeechobee
Correctional Institution, Okeechobee, Florida, July 21, 2013.
657. Rule 3.992 (a) Criminal Punishment Code Score sheet, Lance
Saltzman, No. 2006CF010427A.
658. Letter to the ACLU from Lance Saltzman, supra note 656.
659. Id.
660. Transcript of Record at 155, 167, State v. Lance Saltzman, No.
06-8164CFAMB (Fla. Palm Beach County Ct., Oct. 12, 2009) in
Initial Brief on Ineffective Assistance of Appellate Counsel at 15,
Saltzman v. State, No. 4D07-1143 (Fla. 4th Dist. Ct. July 2011);
letter to the ACLU from Lance Saltzman, supra note 656; ACLU
telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
661. ACLU telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
662. Transcript of Record at 155, 167, State v. Saltzman, No.
06-8164CFAMB in Initial Brief on Ineffective Assistance of
Appellate Counsel at 15, Saltzman v. State, No. 4D07-1143;
letter to the ACLU from Lance Saltzman; supra note 656; ACLU
telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
663. ACLU telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
664. Letter to the ACLU from Lance Saltzman, supra note 656.
665. Initial Brief on Ineffective Assistance of Appellate Counsel at 2,
Saltzman v. State of Florida, No. 4D07-1143 (Fla. 4th Dist. Ct.
July 2011).
666. Rule 3.850 Motion at 5, Saltzman v. State, No. 06-8164CF-AXX
(Fla. 15th Cir. Ct. Nov. 24, 2009).
667. ACLU telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
668. Rule 3.850 Motion, Saltzman v. State, No. 06-8164CF-AXX;
letter to the ACLU from Lance Saltzman, supra note 656; ACLU
telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
669. ACLU telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
670. Rule 3.850 Motion at 28-29, Saltzman v. State, No. 06-8164CF
AXX.
671. ACLU telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
672. Id.
673. Affidavit of Tony Minnick, State of Florida v. Lance Saltzman,
No. 06-8164CFAMB (Fla. Palm Beach County Ct., Oct. 12,
2009).
674. Letter to the Palm Beach County Court from Toni Minnick, Sept.
24, 2008.
675. ACLU telephone interview with Christina Borg, supra note 655.
676. Id.
677. Letter to the ACLU from Lance Saltzman, supra note 656.
678. Id.
679. Letter to the ACLU from Kawan Stack, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 2, 2013.
680. Id.
681. State v. Stack, 97-KA-1176 (La. App. 5 Cir. 4/15/98).
682. Id.
683. Letter to the ACLU from Kawan Stack, supra note 679.
684. State v. Stack, 97-KA-1176.
685. Sentencing Transcript, State v. Stack, 97-68 (24th Judicial Dist.
Ct. Jefferson Parish 5/30/97).

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 221

686. Transcript of Multiple Offender Bill Hearing, State v. Stack, No.
97-68 (24th Judicial Dist. Ct. Jefferson Parish 11/7/97).
687. Letter to the ACLU from Kawan Stack, supra note 679.
688. Id.
689. Id.
690. Id.
691. State v. Carthan, 99-512 (La. App. 3 Cir. 12/8/99); 765 So.2d
357, writ denied 778 So.2d 547 (La. 2001), reconsideration
denied 788 So.2d 438 (La. 2001).
692. Id.
693. Id.
694. State v. Carthan, 2000-KO-0359 (La. 1/12/01); 778 S.2d 547.
695. State v. Carthan, 765 So.2d 357.
696. Id.
697. Id.
698. State in the Interest of R.C., R.C. and J.C., No. 99-2004 (La.
App. 3 Cir. 6/20/00).
699. Letter to the ACLU from Ricky Carthan, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 2, 2013.
700. Carthan v. Cain, No. 2:04-cv-1625 (W.D. La. Mar. 15, 2005).
701. State v. Washington, 41,182-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 9/1/06).
702. Washington v. Warden, No. 09-cv-0864 (W.D. La. July 12, 2012).
703. Id.
704. State v. Washington, 41,182-KA.
705. Letter to the ACLU from Ronald Lee Washington, Louisiana
State Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 29, 2013.
706. State v. Washington, 41,182-KA.
707. Id.
708. Letter to the ACLU from Ronald Lee Washington, supra note
705.
709. Id.
710. Id.
711. State v. Carter, No. 99-KA-779 (La. App. 4 Cir. 11/15/00), 773
So.2d 268.
712. Id.
713. Id.
714. Id.
715. Id.
716. Id.
717. Id.
718. Id.
719. Id.
720. Letter to the ACLU from Paul Carter, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 23, 2013.
721. Id.
722. State v. Matthews, No. 2010-KA-1040 (La. App. 1 Cir.
10/22/10).
723. Id.
724. Letter to the ACLU from Patrick Matthews, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 23, 2013.
725. Id.
726. State v. Matthews, No. 2010-KA-1040 (J. McClendon,
concurring).
727. ACLU interview with Catherine Matthews, Baton Rouge,
Louisiana, June 3, 2013.
728. Id.
729. Letter to the ACLU from Patrick Matthews, supra note 724.
730. Id.
731. State v. Jackson, No. 96-KA-2540 (La. App. 4 Cir. 11/26/97).

222 American Civil Liberties Union

732. Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Jackson, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 23, 2013.
733. State v. Jackson, No. 96-KA-2540.
734. Id.; Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Jackson, supra note 732.
735. State v. Jackson, No. 96-KA-2540.
736. Id.
737. State Ex Rel Jackson v. State, 1999-KH-2705 (La. 3/31/00) (J.
Johnson, dissenting).
738. Cindy Chang, Tough Sentencing Laws Keep Louisiana’s Prisons
Full, Times-PicAyUNe, May 16, 2012.
739. ACLU interview with Loretta Lumar, Baton Rouge, Louisiana,
June 3, 2013.
740. Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Jackson, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 23, 2013.
741. ACLU interview with Loretta Lumar, supra note 739.
742. Id.
743. Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Jackson, supra note 740.
744. Id.
745. ACLU interview with Loretta Lumar, supra note 739.
746. ACLU telephone interview with Larry Yarbrough, Oklahoma
State Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 13, 2013.
747. Paul Monies, Board Recommends Leniency for Drug Dealer
Sentenced to Life without Parole, oKlAhomAN, Aug. 18, 2011.
748. oKlA. sTAT. tit. 63 § 2-415(D)(3).
749. Three members of the Pardon and Parole Board voted to
commute to time served, two voted to reduce Yarbrough’s
sentence to 20 years, and one voted to commute his sentence to
42 years. Paul Monies, Board Recommends Leniency for Drug
Dealer Sentenced to Life without Parole, oKlAhomAN, Aug. 18,
2011; Anthony Papa, How 3 Joints and an Ounce of Coke Got an
Oklahoma Grandfather Life Without Parole, AlTerNeT, Aug. 15,
2011.
750. Letter to the ACLU from Larry Yarbrough, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 20, 2013.
751. Id.
752. State v. Wright, No. 2011-UP-363 (S.C. Ct. App. June 30, 2011).
753. Id.
754. Letter to the ACLU from Lloyd Wright, Lee Correctional
Institution, Bishopville, South Carolina, Mar. 20, 2013.
755. State v. Wright, No. 2011-UP-363.
756. Letter to the ACLU from Lloyd Wright, supra note 754.
757. Id.
758. Id.
759. Id.
760. Id.
761. Id.
762. Id.
763. Id.
764. Id.
765. Id.
766. Id.
767. Id.
768. Id.
769. Id.
770. Id.
771. State v. Godbolt, 2006 KA 0609 (La. App. 1 Cir. 11/3/06); 950
So.2d 727; Godbolt v. Cain, No. 2:2010cv01870 (E.D. La. Feb.
1, 2011).
772. State v. Godbolt, 950 So.2d 727.

773. Id.
774. Id.
775. Id.; Godbolt v. Cain, No. 2:2010cv01870.
776. Godbolt v. Cain, No. 2:2010cv01870.
777. State v. Chester, 97-K-1001 (La. App. 1 Cir. 12/19/97).
778. Id.
779. Id.
780. Id.
781. Id.
782. State v. Chester, No. 95-1428 (La. App. 1 Cir. 3/27/97); 698
So.2d 1065; see id.
783. State v. Chester, No. 97-K-1001 (La. App. 1Cir. 12/19/97).
784. Letter to the ACLU from Charles Alford, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 22, 2013.
785. Id.
786. Id.
787. State v. Jones, 08-KA-306 (La. App. 5 Cir. 10/28/08); 998 So.2d
173; State v. Jones, 08-Ka-466 (La. App. 5 Cir. 10/28/08), 998
So.2d 178.
788. State v. Jones, 998 So.2d 173.
789. State v. Jones, 998 So.2d 178.
790. State v. Jones, 09-KA-788 (La. App. 5 Cir. 4/13/10); 35 So.3d
1162.
791. State v. Jones, 88-KA-0361 (La. App. 4 Cir. 11/10/88); 535
So.2d 3.
792. Letter to the ACLU from Stanley Carnell Veal, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 29, 2013.
793. Id.
794. Id.
795. Id.
796. Id.
797. Clay v. State, No. 2003-KA-00631-COA (Miss. Ct. App. Aug.
24, 2004).
798. Id.
799. Id.
800. Kelly v. State, No. 2004-KA-01961-COA (Miss. Ct. App. Aug. 8,
2006).
801. Id.; letter to the ACLU from James Curtis Kelly, Wilkinson
County Correctional Facility, Woodville, Mississippi, Mar. 20,
2013.
802. Kelly v. State, No. 2004-KA-01961-COA.
803. Id.
804. Id.
805. Letter to the ACLU from James Curtis Kelly, supra note 801.
806. Hudson v. State, 31 So.3d 1 (Miss. Ct. App. Feb. 10, 2009).
807. Id.
808. Id.
809. Id.
810. Id.
811. Hudson v. State, No. 2007-CT-02016-SCT (Miss. Mar. 25, 2010).
812. State v. Kyles, 2010-KA-1308 (La. App. 1 Cir. 2/11/11).
813. Id.
814. Id.; letter to the ACLU from Ronald Kyles, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 24, 2013.
815. State v. Kyles, 2010-KA-1308.
816. Id.
817. Letter to the ACLU from Ronald Kyles, supra note 814.
818. Id.
819. Id.

820. State v. Washington, No. 25050 (S.C. Jan. 17, 2000).
821. Id.
822. Id.
823. Id.
824. State v. Byers, No. 2011-190694 (S.C. Ct. App. Mar. 27, 2013).
825. Id.
826. South Carolina Man Gets Life Sentence for $10 Crack Deal,
AssociATed Press, Apr. 21, 2011.
827. Id.; Gaffney Man Gets Life Sentence for $10 Crack Deal, wsPATv News chANNel 7, Apr. 20, 2011.
828. London v. State, No. 2009–KP–01982–COA (Miss. Ct. App. July
19, 2011).
829. Id.
830. Id.
831. Cynthia Bullion, 12th conviction comes with life sentence,
desoTo Times-TribUNe, Nov. 4, 2009, available at http://
www.desototimes.com/articles/2009/11/04/news/local/
doc4af226c5d8b41585166642.txt.
832. Rob Landreth, Westminster Man Sentenced to Life in Prison
under Three Strikes Law, wsPA chANNel 7, Aug. 16, 2012.
833. Nikie Mayo, Oconee Man Convicted of Burglary Gets Life
without Parole, iNdePeNdeNT mAil (South Carolina), Aug. 16,
2012; Press Release, Office of the Solicitor, 10th Judicial Circuit,
State of South Carolina, Career Burglar Receives Life without
Parole Sentence, Aug. 16, 2012.
834. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
Sumter Correctional Institution, Bushnell, Florida, July 22, 2013.
835. Id.
836. Certificate of Release or Discharge from Active Duty of Alfonse
Danner, U.S. Navy.
837. Id.
838. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
supra note 834.
839. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
Sumter Correctional Institution, Bushnell, Florida, July 26, 2013.
840. Id.
841. Id.
842. Criminal Report Affidavit, Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
Case No. 95-13964.
843. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
supra note 839.
844. Criminal Report Affidavit, Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
Case No. 95-13964.
845. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
supra note 839.
846. Id.
847. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
supra note 834.
848. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
supra note 839.
849. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
supra note 834.
850. Id.
851. Id.
852. Id.
853. Id.
854. Letter to the ACLU from Alfonse Danner aka Tony Johnson,
supra note 839.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 223

855. Letter to the ACLU from Ivan Vincent Anderson, Holmes
Correctional Institution, Bonifay, Florida, July 17, 2013.
856. Id.
857. Id.
858. Anderson v. State, No. 4D07-1788 (Fla. 4th DCA May 14, 2008).
859. Letter to the ACLU from Ivan Vincent Anderson, Holmes
Correctional Institution, Bonifay, Florida, July 17, 2013.
860. Id.
861. Anderson v. State, No. 4D07-1788.
862. Id.
863. Sentencing Transcript, State v. Anderson (Fla. Palm Beach
County Ct. Apr. 27, 2007).
864. Id.
865. Id.
866. Letter to the ACLU from Ivan Vincent Anderson, supra note 859.
867. Id.
868. Id.
869. Id.
870. Fields v. Cain, No. 05-0074, 2007 WL 458208 (E.D. La. Feb. 8,
2007), certificate of appealability denied, No. 07-30241 (5th Cir.
Oct. 4, 2007).
871. See Transcript of Hearing on Motions, State v. Fields, No. 411
743 “B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish Orleans 2000).
872. State v. Fields, No. 411-743 “B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish Orleans
Mar. 20, 2000).
873. State v. Fields, No. 411-743 “B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish Orleans
Apr. 6, 2000).
874. Fields v. Cain, No. 05-0074.
875. Fields v. Cain, No. 12-2143, 2012 WL 6674032 (E.D. La. Dec.
10, 2012); Fields v. Cain, No. 12-2143, 2012 WL 6673777 (E.D.
La. Dec. 20, 2012).
876. Letter to the ACLU from Leroy Fields, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 28, 2013.
877. Id.
878. Id.
879. Id.
880. Id.
881. Id.
882. State v. Jones, 2000-KA-2117 (La. App. 4 Cir. 2000).
883. Letter to the ACLU from Rev. Aaron Jones, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 24, 2013.
884. State v. Jones, No. 2000-KA-2117.
885. Id.
886. Id.
887. Letter to the ACLU from Rev. Aaron Jones, supra note 883.
888. Id.
889. Johnson v. Cain, No. 05-30600 (La. App. 5 Cir. 11/20/07).
890. Letter to the ACLU from Darrell Johnson, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 25, 2013.
891. Id.
892. Id.
893. Arrest Report No. ECS010ARR019018, Escambia County
Sheriff’s Office (Aug. 26, 2010).
894. Id.
895. Id.
896. Amended Motion for Postconviction Relief at 4, State v.
Montgomery, No.:10-CF-3866 (Fla. Escambia County Ct. Sept.
10, 2013).
897. Id.

224 American Civil Liberties Union

898. Arrest Report No. ECS010ARR019018, supra note 893.
899. Id.
900. Id.
901. Id.
902. Letter to the ACLU from John Montgomery, Santa Rosa
Correctional Institution, Milton, Florida, July 25, 2013.
903. Id.
904. Id.
905. Motion to Appoint Mental Health Evaluators at 36, State v.
Montgomery, No. 2010-CF-003866A (Fla. Escambia County Ct.
Mar. 17, 2011).
906. Id.
907. Letter to the ACLU from John Montgomery, supra note 902.
908. Id.
909. Id.
910. Id.
911. Id.
912. Id.
913. Id.
914. Id.
915. Id.
916. Id.
917. Id.
918. Id.
919. Id.
920. Id.
921. Letter to the ACLU from Kenneth Penton, Gulf Correctional
Institution, Wewahitchka, Florida, July 26, 2013.
922. Id.
923. Penton v. Crews, No. 3:12cv176/RV/CJK, 2013 WL 2389831 at
*1 (N.D. Fla. May 30, 2013).
924. Id.
925. Id.
926. Letter to the ACLU from Kenneth Penton, supra note 921.
927. Id.
928. State v. Penton, No. 2000 MM 027590 A (Fla. Escambia County
Ct. 2000).
929. State v. Penton, No. 2001 CF 002081 (Fla. Escambia County Ct.
2001).
930. State v. Penton, No. 2004 CF 003547 A (Fla. Escambia County
Ct. 2005).
931. State v. Penton, No. 2004 CF 003267 A (Fla. Escambia County
Ct. 2004).
932. State v. Penton, No. 2005 CF 000558 A (Fla. Escambia County
Ct. 2005); State v. Penton, No. 2005 CF 001616 A (Fla. Escambia
County Ct. 2005).
933. Letter to the ACLU from Kenneth Penton, supra note 921.
934. Id.
935. Id.
936. Id.
937. Id.
938. Burglary conviction means life term for Port St. Lucie felon,
TcPAlm.com, June 18, 2009.
939. Letter to the ACLU from Joel Daigle, Wakulla Correctional
Institution, Crawfordville, Florida, July 17, 2013.
940. Will Greenlee, Suspect arrested in Port St. Lucie burglary,
TcPAlm.com, May 1, 2008.
941. Letter to the ACLU from Joel Daigle, supra note 939.

942. Nicole Daigle, I would just like to share my story, PrisoNTAlK.
com, Aug. 15, 2009.
943. Id.
944. Id.
945. Letter to the ACLU from Joel Daigle, supra note 939.
946. Id.
947. Quoted in Nicole Daigle, I would just like to share my story,
supra note 942.
948. Letter to the ACLU from Joel Daigle, supra note 939.
949. State v. Finch, 97-KA-2060 (La. App. 4 Cir. 2/24/99); 730 S.2d
1020.
950. Id.
951. Id.
952. Id.; Transcript of Plea of Guilty and Sentencing, State v. Finch,
No. 390-132 (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish Orleans La. 7/30/97).
953. State v. Finch, 730 S.2d 1020 (J. Byrnes, dissenting).
954. State v. Finch, 730 S.2d 1020.
955. Id.; Transcript of Plea of Guilty and Sentencing, State v. Finch,
No. 390-132.
956. State v. Finch, S.2d 1020.
957. Id. (J. Byrnes, dissenting).
958. Letter to the ACLU from Rayvell Finch, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 23, 2013.
959. State v. Coleman, No. 403-657 “B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish
Orleans 1999).
960. Id.
961. Transcript of Hearing on Motions, State v. Coleman, No. 403-657
“B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish Orleans 5/14/99).
962. State v. Coleman, No. 403-657 “B” (Crim. Dist. Ct. Parish
Orleans 1999).
963. Transcript of Hearing on Motions, State v. Coleman, No. 403-657
“B”.
964. Letter to the ACLU from Donnel Coleman, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 5, 2013.
965. Id.
966. Id.
967. Horne v. Cain, No. 09-5509, 2010 WL 1332977 (E.D. La. Feb.
24, 2010).
968. State v. Horne, 99-KA-2192 (La. App. 1 Cir. 9/22/00); 768 So.2d
228.
969. Letter to the ACLU from Leone Horne, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 24, 2013.
970. Id.; ACLU telephone interview with Sheila Horne, Baton Rouge,
Louisiana, May 13, 2013.
971. Letter to the ACLU from Leone Horne, supra note 969.
972. Letter to the ACLU from Rufus White, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 1, 2013.
973. State v. White. 36,935-Ka (La. App. 2 Cir. 6/6/03); 850 So.2d
751.
974. Id.
975. Id.
976. Id.
977. Id.
978. Letter to the ACLU from Rufus White, supra note 972.
979. Id.
980. ACLU interview with Eisibe Sneed, Shreveport, Louisiana, Apr.
25, 2013.
981. ACLU interview with Eisibe Sneed, Baton Rouge, Louisiana,
June 2, 2013.

982. ACLU interview with Eisibe Sneed, supra note 980..
983. Letter to the ACLU from Thomas Wade, Walton Correctional
Institution, DeFuniak Springs, Florida, July 16, 2013.
984. Id.
985. Id.
986. Transcript of Record at 38 in Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus
at 15, Wade v. State, No. 93-02537 (Fla. 10th Cir. Ct. Oct. 21,
1998).
987. Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus at 17, Wade v. State, No. 93
02537.
988. Transcript of Record at 40-41 in Petition for Writ of Habeas
Corpus at 17, Wade v. State, No. 93-02537.
989. Id. at 41.
990. Id. at 47-48.
991. Id. at 62.
992. Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus at 22, Wade v. State, No. 93
02537.
993. Transcript of Record at 62 in Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus
at 18, Wade v. State, No. 93-02537.
994. Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus at 6, Wade v. State, No. 93
02537.
995. Letter to the ACLU from Thomas Wade, supra note 983.
996. Petition for Writ of Habeas Corpus at 2, 23, Wade v. State, No.
93-02537 (Fla. 10th Cir. Ct. Oct. 21, 1998).
997. Wade had also initially been charged with possession of a firearm
by a convicted felon, two counts of battery of a law enforcement
officer, one count of resisting an officer with violence, and one
count of resisting an officer without violence. The prosecution
did not proceed with these charges. Petition for Writ of Habeas
Corpus at 2, 23, Wade v. State, No. 93-02537 (Fla. 10th Cir. Ct.
Oct. 21, 1998).
998. Letter to the ACLU from Thomas Wade, supra note 983.

999. Id.

1000. Id.

1001. Id.

1002. Id.

1003. ACLU telephone interview with Maurice Jordan, Florida, July

30, 2013.
1004. State v. Lewis, 42,365-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 9/19/07).
1005. Id.
1006. Id.
1007. Id.
1008. Id.
1009. Letter to the ACLU from Quierza Lewis, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 25, 2013.
1010. Id.
1011. ACLU interview with DeLoice Lewis, Baton Rouge, Louisiana,
June 2, 2013.
1012. Id.
1013. ACLU interview with Willie Combs, Baton Rouge, Louisiana,
June 2, 2013.
1014. Id.
1015. Surry v. Warden, No. 06-cv-0971 (W.D. La. Feb. 23, 2009).
1016. Id.
1017. Id.
1018. State v. Surry, 37,448-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 9/24/03).
1019. Id.
1020. Id.; State v. Surry, 41,909-KH (La. App. 2 Cir. 10/26/06).
1021. Surry v. Warden, No. 06-cv-0971 (W.D. La. Feb. 23, 2009).

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 225

1022. ACLU interview with Sarlower Surry, Baton Rouge, Louisiana,
June 2, 2013.
1023. Id.
1024. ACLU interview with Cashawna Tilman, Baton Rouge,
Louisiana, June 2, 2013.
1025. Id.
1026. Affidavit for Warrant to Arrest, State v. Gray, No. 0-90-09-0652
(Fla 5th Cir. Ct. 1991); letter to the ACLU from Walter Gray,
Marion Correctional Institution, Lowell, Florida, Mar. 13, 2013.
1027. Letter to the ACLU from Walter Gray, supra note 1026.
1028. Letter from Jim Warford, Superintendent, Marion County Public
Schools, to Walter Gray, Jan. 29, 2003 (confirming that “Howard
Academy…was closed as a school and turned into a community/
district resource center” on or around September 1990); affidavit
of O.B. Samuel Junior, Aug. 18, 1992 (stating that “to the best
of my knowledge, that on September 7, 1990, the Howard
Academy Community Center located at 306 N.W. 7th Avenue,
Ocala, Florida, was not a public or private elementary, middle or
secondary school”).
1029. Letter to the ACLU from Walter Gray, supra note 1026.
1030. Transcript of Record at 35, State v. Gray, No. 91-816-CF-A-Z
(Fla. 5th Cir. Ct. Dec. 11, 1991).
1031. Id. at 36.
1032. Id. at 38-39.
1033. Letter to the ACLU from Walter Gray, supra note 1026.
1034. Id.
1035. Id.
1036. Id.
1037. Id.
1038. Letter to the ACLU from Samuel Morris Gibson Jr., Dade
Correctional Institution, Florida City, Florida, July 18, 2013.
1039. Id.
1040. Id.
1041. Letter to the ACLU from Tyrone Taylor, Apalachee Correctional
Institution, Sneads, Florida, July 29, 2013.
1042. Information for I. Robbery 812.13, II. Aggravated Battery,

State v. Taylor, No. 82-23365 (Fla. 11th Cir. Ct. Nov. 7,
1983).

1043. Id.; letter to the ACLU from Tyrone Taylor, supra note 1041.
1044. Sentencing Transcript at 353, State v. Taylor, Nos. CF88
4730A1-XX, CF88-3199A1-XX (Fla. 10th Cir. Ct. 1989).
1045. Taylor v. State, 749 So.2d 533 (Fla. 2nd Dist. Ct. App. Dec. 29,
1999).
1046. Id.
1047. Sentencing Transcript at 356, State v. Taylor, Nos. CF88
4730A1-XX, CF88-3199A1-XX.
1048. Letter to the ACLU from Tyrone Taylor, supra note 1041.
1049. Id.
1050. Id.
1051. Id.
1052. Id.
1053. Id.
1054. State v. Pettus, 10-KA-215 (La. App. Cir. 5/24/11); 68 So.3d 21,
writ denied, 11-1325 (La. 12/2/11); 76 So.3d. 1176.
1055. Id.
1056. Id.
1057. Id.
1058. Id.
1059. Id.

226 American Civil Liberties Union

1060. State v. Pettus, 10-KA-777 (La. App. 5 Cir. 5/24/11); 68 So.3d
28.
1061. State v. Caliste, No. 2010-KA-0650 (La. App. 1st Cir. Oct. 29,
2010).
1062. Id.
1063. State v. Pettus, 68 So.3d 28; State v. Caliste, 2010-KA-0650 (La.
App. 1 Cir. 10/29/10); 56 So.3d 464.
1064. State v. Hinkel, 2010-KA-1151 (La. App. 1 Cir. 2/11/11); 57
So.3d 609.
1065. State v. Caliste, 56 So.3d 464.
1066. State v. Hinkel, 57 So.3d 609.
1067. State v. Nicholas, 97-KA-1991 (La. App. 4 Cir. 4/28/99); 735
So.2d 790.
1068. Id.
1069. Id.
1070. Id.
1071. Id.
1072. Id.
1073. Id.
1074. State v. Barnes, 01-KA-489 (La. App. 5 Cir. Oct. 17, 2001); 800
So.2d 973.
1075. Id.
1076. Id.
1077. Id.; State v. Barnes, 00-1389 (La. App. 5 Cir. Jan. 30, 2001); 786
So.2d 985.
1078. State v. Barnes, 01-KA-489 (La. App. 5 Cir. Oct. 17, 2001); 800
So.2d 973.
1079. State v. Barnes, 01-KA-489 (La. App. 5 Cir. Oct. 17, 2001); 800
So.2d 973.
1080. State v. Cushinello, 01-KA-109 (La. App. 1 Cir. July 30, 2001);
792 So.2d 926.
1081. Id.
1082. Id.
1083. Id.
1084. Id.
1085. State v. Bates, 37,282 KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 10/16/03); 859 So.2d
841.
1086. Id.
1087. Id.
1088. Id.
1089. Id.
1090. Id.
1091. Conviction Stemming from Police Chase Could Mean Life
Sentence, AssociATed Press, Feb. 6, 2002.
1092. State v. Bates, 859 So.2d 841.
1093. Id.
1094. Id.
1095. United States v. Graham, 622 F.3d 445, 447 (6th Cir. 2010), cert.
denied, 131 S. Ct. 2962 (2011).
1096. Id.
1097. Id.
1098. Id.
1099. Id.
1100. Id.
1101. Id.
1102. At age 19, Graham was convicted of two counts of cocaine
trafficking under Ohio law and served two consecutive six-month
terms in prison. United States v. Graham, 622 F.3d at 455.

1103. Id. at 465-470 (Merrit, G., dissenting) (footnotes and internal
citations omitted).
1104. Letter to the ACLU from Donald Graham, United States
Penitentiary-Canaan, Waymart, Pennsylvania, Mar. 11, 2013.
1105. Id.
1106. Id.
1107. Id.
1108. Id.
1109. Id.
1110. United States v. Speal, No. 6:97CR10051-002 (D. Kan. Nov. 12,
1997).
1111. United States v. Speal, 166 F.3d 350 (10th Cir. 1998); United
States v. Benson, No. 97-1151-01, 02 (D. Kan. 1997).
1112. Letter to the ACLU from Steven Speal, Jesup Federal
Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, Apr. 22, 2013.
1113. Id.
1114. Id.
1115. Presentence Investigation Report at 51, United States v. Speal.
1116. Id. at 52.
1117. Id.
1118. Id.at 53.
1119. Letter to the ACLU from Steven Speal, supra note 1112.
1120. ACLU telephone interview with Steven Speal, Jesup, Georgia,
Mar. 25, 2013.
1121. ACLU telephone interview with Mary McMillan, May 7, 2013.
1122. Id.
1123. Id.
1124. Id.
1125. Letter to the ACLU from Steven Speal, supra note 1112.
1126. ACLU telephone interview with Steven Speal, supra note 1120.
1127. Letter to the ACLU from Steven Speal, supra note 1112.
1128. ACLU telephone interview with Steven Speal, supra note 1120.
1129. Letter to the ACLU from Steven Speal, supra note 1112.
1130. United States v. Wadlington, 233 F.3d 1067 (8th Cir. 2000).
1131. See id.
1132. Id.
1133. ACLU telephone interview with Euka Wadlington, Greenville
Federal Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, May 10,
2013.
1134. Wadlington v. United States, 428 F.3d 779 (8th Cir. 2005).
1135. Letter to the ACLU from Euka Wadlington, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, May 14, 2013.
1136. See Wadlington v. United States, 428 F.3d 779.
1137. Id.
1138. United States v. Wadlington, 233 F.3d 1067.
1139. ACLU telephone interview with Euka Wadlington, supra note
1133; letter to the ACLU from Euka Wadlington, supra note
1135.
1140. Letter to the ACLU from Euka Wadlington, supra note 1135.
1141. Id.
1142. State v. Green, 36,741-KA (La. App. 2 Cir. 3/5/03); 839 So.2d
970.
1143. Id.
1144. Id.
1145. Id.
1146. Id.
1147. State v. Mosley, 08-KA-1318 (La. App. 5 Cir. 5/12/09); 13 So.3d
705.
1148. State v. Mosley, 13 So.3d 705.

1149. Mosley had pleaded guilty in February 1996 to possessing
cocaine with intent to distribute when he was 17 years old and in
June 1997 to distribution of cocaine. State v. Mosley, 13 So.3d
705.
1150. Letter to the ACLU from Terrance Mosley, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 6, 2013.
1151. Id.
1152. Id.
1153. State v. Winslow, 45,414 (La. App. 2 Cir. 12/15/10); 55 So.3d
910, writ denied 11-0192 (La. 6/17/11); 63 So. 3d 1033.
1154. Letter to the ACLU from Fate Vincent Winslow, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 16, 2013.
1155. Id.
1156. Transcript of Record at 181, State v. Winslow, 55 So.3d 910.
1157. State v. Winslow, 55 So.3d 910.
1158. State v. Winslow, 29888-Ka (La. App. 2 Cir. 10/17/97).
1159. Letter to the ACLU from Fate Vincent Winslow, supra note 1154.
1160. State v. Bourda, KA 10-1553 (La. App. 3 Cir. 6/8/11); 70 So.3d
82.
1161. State v. Bourda, 70 So.3d 82.
1162. Letter to the ACLU from Travis Bourda, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 26, 2013.
1163. Id.
1164. Id.
1165. State v. Kelly, 01-KA-321 (La. App. 5 Cir. 10/17/01); 800 So.2d
978.
1166. Id.
1167. Id.
1168. Id.
1169. Id.
1170. Id.
1171. Id.
1172. Id.
1173. Letter to the ACLU from Anthony Kelly, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 18, 2013.
1174. Id.
1175. Id.
1176. Id.
1177. Id.
1178. ACLU telephone interview with William Dufries, Oklahoma
State Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 8, 2013; Dufries v.
State, No. F-2004-199 (Okla. Crim. App. Apr. 13, 2006).
1179. Letter to the ACLU from William Dufries, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 12, 2013.
1180. Dufries v. State, No. F-2004-199.
1181. ACLU telephone interview with William Dufries, supra note
1178; letter to the ACLU from William Dufries, supra note 1179.
1182. ACLU telephone interview with William Dufries, supra note
1178.
1183. Id.
1184. Letter to the ACLU from William Dufries, supra note 1179.
1185. ACLU telephone interview with William Dufries, supra note
1178.
1186. Id.
1187. Dodd was sentenced to life without parole on the conspiracy to
traffic marijuana count and to life for the possession with intent
to distribute count. Dodd v. State, No. F-91-708, 879 P.2d 822
(Okla. Crim. App. July 29, 1994).

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 227

1188. ACLU telephone interview with Leland Dodd, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 8, 2013.
1189. The sentence of life imprisonment without the possibility of
parole was subsequently vacated and Hood was resentenced to
25 years after the state agreed to strike two predicate convictions.
State v. Hood, 2012-KA-0006 (La. App. 1 Cir. 6/8/12).
1190. State v. Hood, 2012-KA-0006; Ramon Antonio Vargas, Fourth
Marijuana Conviction Gets Slidell Man Life in Prison, TimesPicAyUNe, May 5, 2011.
1191. Id.
1192. See United States v. Gaitan-Acevedo et al., 148 F.3d 577 (6th Cir.
1998).
1193. Id.
1194. Letter to the ACLU from Paul E. Free, Atwater United States
Penitentiary, Atwater, California, Mar. 9. 2013.
1195. Id.
1196. Id.
1197. Indictment, United States v. Knock et al., Case No. 1:94-cr-1009
(N.D. Fla. Mar. 9, 1994); Judgment, United States v. Knock et
al. (N.D. Fla. Jan. 31, 2001); Knock v. United States, Case No.
08-11966-D (11th Cir. 2003).
1198. Letter to the ACLU from John Knock, Allenwood United States
Penitentiary, Allenwood, Pennsylvania, Mar. 13, 2013.
1199. United States v. Duke, 954 F.2d 668 (11th Cir. 1992).
1200. Id.
1201. E-mail communication from Larry Ronald Duke, Jesup Federal
Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, Apr. 27, 2013.
1202. Id.
1203. Letter to the ACLU from William Dekle, Big Sandy United
States Penitentiary, Inez, Kentucky, Mar. 26, 2013.
1204. Id.
1205. United States v. Cundiff et al., No. 91-03069-06/RV (N.D. Fla.),
affirmed 16 F.3d 1231 (11th Cir. 1994).
1206. Letter to the ACLU from Charles Cundiff, Coleman Medium
Federal Correctional Institution, Coleman, Florida, Mar. 26,
2013.
1207. Letter to the ACLU from Craig Cesal, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, Apr. 3, 2013.
1208. E-mail communication from Craig Cesal, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, Apr. 27, 2013.
1209. Letter to the ACLU from Craig Cesal, supra note 1207.
1210. Id.
1211. Id.
1212. See United States v. Cesal, 391 F.3d 1173 (11th Cir. 2004).
1213. Letter to the ACLU from Craig Cesal, supra note 1207.
1214. United States v. Cesal, 391 F.3d 1173.
1215. Letter to the ACLU from Craig Cesal, supra note 1207.
1216. ACLU telephone interview with Craig Cesal, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, May 9, 2013.
1217. Letter to the ACLU from Craig Cesal, supra note 1207.
1218. U.s. deP’T of jUsTice, bUreAU of jUsTice sTATisTics, comPeNdiUm
of federAl jUsTice sTATisTics 2003, TAble 7.16 at 112 available
at http://bjs.ojp.usdoj.gov/content/pub/pdf/cfjs03.pdf.
1219. Congress gave the Commission authority to make its
amendments retroactive in 28 U.S.C. § 994(u).
1220. For example, the 2011 retroactive guideline adjustment only
benefited those crack cocaine offenders who were convicted of
less than 8.4 kilograms, just as an earlier retroactive guideline
adjustment reducing the sentencing ranges for crack cocaine by

228 American Civil Liberties Union

two levels that took effect in 2008 only benefited those crack
cocaine offenders who were convicted of less than 4.5 kilograms.
1221. Dunkins was also convicted of use of a firearm during a drug
trafficking offense, but this count was subsequently vacated.
1222. Sentencing transcript at 8-9, United States v. Dunkins, No.
4:92-CR-010-Y (N.D. Tex. Jan. 20, 1993).
1223. ACLU telephone interview with Douglas Ray Dunkins Jr., El
Reno Federal Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, Apr.
19, 2013.
1224. Id.
1225. Id.
1226. Id.
1227. ACLU telephone interview with Bonnie Dunkins, Fort Worth,
Texas, Apr. 25, 2013.
1228. Id.
1229. Id.
1230. Id.
1231. ACLU telephone interview with Douglas Ray Dunkins Jr., El
Reno Federal Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, Mar.
20, 2013.
1232. Id.
1233. Jason Hernandez Petition for Commutation at 4.
1234. Jason Hernandez Petition for Commutation at 2.
1235. Jason Hernandez Petition for Commutation at 1.
1236. ACLU telephone interview with Jason Hernandez, El Reno
Federal Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, July 5,
2013.
1237. Jason Hernandez Petition for Commutation at 2.
1238. Jason Hernandez Petition for Commutation at 2.
1239. Letter to the ACLU from Jason Hernandez, El Reno Federal
Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, Mar. 7, 2013;
Additional Factors in Support of Petition for Commutation at 2.
1240. Sentencing Transcript at 6, United States v. Hernandez, No.
4.98cr14 (2) (E.D. Tex. Feb. 22, 1999).
1241. Sentencing Transcript at 12, United States v. Holmes, No.
4.98cr14 (1) (E.D. Tex. Feb. 22, 1999); Sentencing Transcript at
12, United States v. Hernandez, No. 4.98cr14 (2).
1242. Letter from Paul Cogwell.
1243. Chapa v. United States, No. Civ.A 4:06CV7 (E.D. Tex. May 15,
2006). See also Jason Hernandez Petition for Commutation at 3.
1244. E-mail communication from Jason Hernandez, El Reno Federal
Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, July 3, 2013.
1245. ACLU telephone interview with Jason Hernandez, El Reno
Federal Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, July 5,
2013.
1246. E-mail communication from Jason Hernandez, supra note 1244.
1247. ACLU telephone interview with Jason Hernandez, supra note
1245.
1248. Letter to the ACLU from Jason Hernandez, El Reno Federal
Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, Mar. 7, 2013.
1249. E-mail communication from Jason Hernandez, supra note 1244.
1250. Professor David M. Zlotnik, Federal Sentencing Study, Profiles,
Judge Philip Reinhard.
1251. Id.
1252. Id.
1253. United States v. Edwards et al., 105 F.3d 1179 (7th Cir. 1997).
1254. Sentencing Transcript at 149, United States v. Evans, No. 93 CR
20024-09 (N.D. Ill. Oct. 14, 1994).
1255. Id. at 150.

1256. Id. at 148-49.
1257. Letter to the ACLU from Marcus Evans, Terre Haute United
States Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana, Mar. 13, 2013.
1258. Id.
1259. Letter to the ACLU from Kenneth Fragoso, Beaumont United
States Penitentiary, Beaumont, Texas, June 26, 2013.
1260. AmericAN civil liberTies UNioN, AT AmericA’s exPeNse: The
mAss iNcArcerATioN of The elderly (2012), available at http://
www.aclu.org/criminal-law-reform/report-americas-expense
mass-incarceration-elderly.
1261. United States v. Giuliano, 11 F.3d 165 (11th Cir. 1993); Giuliano
v. Warden, No. 6:10-cv-02485-MBS (D.S.C. Nov. 8, 2010).
1262. Pre-sentence Investigation Report, United States v. Giuliano.
1263. ACLU telephone interview with Ignatzio Giuliano, Williamsburg
Federal Correctional Institution, Salters, South Carolina, Dec. 3,
2012.
1264. Letter to the ACLU from Ignatzio Giuliano, Williamsburg
Federal Correctional Institution, Salters, South Carolina, Mar. 8,
2013.
1265. Letter to the ACLU from Ignatzio Giuliano, supra note 1262.
1266. Id.
1267. Id.
1268. ACLU telephone interview with Ignatzio Giuliano, Williamsburg
Federal Correctional Institution, Salters, South Carolina, Mar. 21,
2012.
1269. Letter from Karen DeConna, Feb. 23, 2008 in Ignatzio Giuliano,
Petition for Commutation of Sentence, Dec. 20, 2007.
1270. Letter from Joseph Giuliano in id.
1271. Letter to the ACLU from Ignatzio Giuliano, Williamsburg
Federal Correctional Institution, Salters, South Carolina, Dec. 3,
2012.
1272. Letter to the ACLU from Robert Jonas, Jesup Federal
Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, May 20, 2013.
1273. Id.
1274. Seven Held Without Bail in Drug Bust, PhilAdelPhiA iNqUirer,
June 7, 1991; letter to the ACLU from Robert Jonas, supra note
1272.
1275. Mantilla v. United States, 302 F.3d 182, 183 (3rd Cir. 2002).
1276. Lane Kelley, Broward Men Get Life in Smuggling Scheme, sUN
seNTiNel, Oct. 25, 1992.
1277. Id.
1278. Letter to the ACLU from Robert Jonas, supra note 1272.
1279. Id.
1280. Id.
1281. Id.
1282. Id.
1283. United States v. Hernandez-Miranda, 78 F.3d 512 (11th Cir. Mar.
26, 1996).
1284. Id.
1285. Letter to the ACLU from Leopoldo Hernandez-Miranda, Butner
Federal Medical Center, Butner, North Carolina, Apr. 12, 2013.
1286. Id.
1287. Id.
1288. Id.
1289. Id.
1290. Id.
1291. Id.
1292. United States v. Hyatt, No. 5:93CR237 (N.D. Ohio, Jan. 26,
1994).

1293. David Hyatt, The Wall, The November coAliTioN, available at
http://november.org/thewall/thewall/hyatt_david.html.
1294. Letter to the ACLU from David Hyatt, Butner Federal Medical
Center Butner, North Carolina, Mar. 8, 2013; David Hyatt, The
Wall, supra note 1293.
1295. Letter from U.S. Dep’t of Justice, Federal Bureau of Prisons to
David Hyatt regarding his request for a reduction in sentence,
Sept. 30, 2012.
1296. David Hyatt, The Wall, supra note 1293.
1297. Letter from U.S. Dep’t of Justice, Federal Bureau of Prisons to
David Hyatt, supra note 1295.
1298. Letter to Craig Apker, Warden of Butner Federal Medical Center,
from David Hyatt regarding reconsideration for compassionate
release, Oct. 6, 2012.
1299. Memorandum to Denise Simons, Executive Assistant of
Butner Federal Medical Center, from David Hyatt regarding
Reconsideration for Reduction in Sentence, Nov. 26, 2012.
1300. Letter to the ACLU from David Hyatt, supra note 1294.
1301. Hyatt v. United States, No. 593: CR 237 (N.D. Ohio, Aug. 7,
2008).
1302. Id.
1303. ACLU telephone interview with David Hyatt, Butner Federal
Medical Center, Butner, North Carolina, Mar. 22, 2013.
1304. Letter to Craig Apker, supra note 1298.
1305. Letter from Judge David Dowd Jr. to David Hyatt, U.S. District
Court, N.D. Ohio, Akron, Ohio, June 24, 2011.
1306. Letter from June Elaine Hyatt to Butner Federal Medical Center
Unit Manager, Butner Federal Medical Center, Butner, North
Carolina, Nov. 8, 2012.
1307. Letter to the ACLU from David Hyatt, supra note 1294.
1308. ACLU telephone interview with David Hyatt, supra note 1303.
1309. Letter from June Elaine Hyatt, supra note 1306.
1310. Id.
1311. Letter to the ACLU from Donnie Daniel, Oklahoma State
Penitentiary, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 13, 2013.
1312. Id.
1313. Id.
1314. Id.
1315. Id.
1316. Id.
1317. Daniel v. Franklin, No. CIV-12-309-M, 2012 WL 1565784 at *1
(W.D. Okla. Mar. 27, 2012).
1318. Id. citing Daniel v. State, No. F-1997-1101 (Okla. Crim. App.
Mar. 19, 1999).
1319. Letter to the ACLU from Donnie Daniel, Oklahoma State
Penitentiary, Granite, Oklahoma, Apr. 5, 2013.
1320. Letter to the ACLU from Donnie Daniel, supra note 1311.
1321. Id.
1322. Letter to the ACLU from Donnie Daniel, supra note 1319.
1323. Id.
1324. Id.
1325. Id.
1326. Id.
1327. Id.
1328. Id.
1329. Letter to the ACLU from Donnie Daniel, supra note 1311.
1330. Letter to the ACLU from Donnie Daniel, supra note 1319.
1331. 18 U.S.C. § 3624(b) (2009) (permitting federal prisoners serving
sentences longer than one year to earn up to 54 days of “good

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 229

time” credit at the end of each year of the prisoner’s term of
imprisonment for good behavior, but limiting such credit to “a
prisoner who is serving a term of imprisonment of more than
[one] year other than a term of imprisonment for the duration of
the prisoner’s life”).
1332. Graham v. Florida, 130 S. Ct. 2011, 2027 (2010).
1333. Naovarath v. State, 779 P.2d 944 (Nev. 1989).
1334. Norris v. Morgan, 622 F.3d 1276, 1291 (9th Cir. 2010) (citation
omitted) (internal quotation marks omitted).
1335. Letter to the ACLU from Eduardo Toranzo, Cross City
Correctional Institution, Cross City, Florida, July 20, 2013.
1336. Letter to the ACLU from Thomas Tinghino, Siwammee
Correctional Institution Annex, Live Oak, Florida, July 20, 2013.
1337. Letter to the ACLU from Libert Roland, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 11, 2013.
1338. Letter to the ACLU from Lloyd Wright, Lee Correctional
Institution, Bishopville, South Carolina, Mar. 20, 2013.
1339. Letter to the ACLU from Jessie Traylor, Terre Haute United
States Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana, Mar. 25, 2013.
1340. Letter to the ACLU from Leland Dodd, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 8, 2013.
1341. Id.
1342. ACLU telephone interview with Ricky Minor, Williamsburg
Federal Correctional Institution, Salters, South Carolina, Mar. 6,
2013.
1343. ACLU telephone interview with Kevin Ott, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 8, 2013.
1344. Letter to the ACLU from Antawn Tyrone Bolden, Jefferson
Correctional Institution, Monticello, Florida, Mar. 10, 2013.
1345. Letter to the ACLU from Raffaelous White, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 26, 2013.
1346. Id.
1347. Letter to the ACLU from Darek Hayes, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 26, 2013.
1348. Letter to the ACLU from Scott Walker, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, Mar. 5, 2013.
1349. Letter to the ACLU from Clinton Matthews, Petersburg Federal
Correctional Complex, Petersburg, Virginia, Apr. 16, 2013.
1350. Letter to the ACLU from Kerry Orgeron, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 2, 2013.
1351. Letter to the ACLU from Alonzo Jason, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 30, 2013.
1352. Letter to the ACLU from Terrence Jackson, Walton Correctional
Institution, DeFuniak Springs, Florida, May 14, 2013.
1353. Letter to the ACLU from Louis Brady, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 3, 2013.
1354. Letter to the ACLU from Bobby Wallace, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 24, 2013.
1355. See, e.g., Robert Johnson and Sandra McGunigall-Smith, Life, or
Something Like It: Pains of Imprisonment among Life-Sentence
Prisoners, paper presented at American Society of Criminology
conference (Nov. 2006); M. E. Leigey, Life While Serving Life:
Examining the Correctional Experiences of Older Inmates
Serving a Life without Parole Sentence (2007) (unpublished
doctoral dissertation, University of Delaware, Newark); Glenn
Abraham, Prisoners Serving Sentences of Life Without Parole: A
Qualitative Study and Survey, University of Kentucky Doctoral
Dissertations Paper 814 (2011); Sandra McGunigall-Smith, Men
of a Thousand Days: Death-Sentenced Inmates at Utah State

230 American Civil Liberties Union

Prison (2004) (unpublished doctoral dissertation, University of
Wales, Bangor); Robert Johnson and Sandra McGunigall-Smith,
Life without Parole, America’s Other Death Penalty: Notes on
Life under Sentence of Death by Incarceration, PrisoN joUrNAls
(2008); s. coheN ANd l. TAylor, PsychologicAl sUrvivAl: The
exPerieNce of loNg-Term imPrisoNmeNT (Pelican Books, 1972);
Y. Jewkes, Loss, Liminality and the Life Sentence: Managing
Identity through a Disrupted Lifecourse, in The effecTs of
imPrisoNmeNT 366-388 (A. Lieblien & S. Maruna, eds., Willan
Publishing, 2005); R. Johnson and A. Dobranska, Mature
Coping Among Life-Sentence Prisoners: An Exploratory Study
of Adjustment Dynamics, 30 corr. comPeNdiUm 6, 8-9, 36-38
(2005).
1356. See, e.g., I. Robbins et al., The Psychiatric Problems of
Detainees under the 2001 Anti-Terrorism Crime and Security
Act, 29 PsychiATric bUlleTiN 407, 408 (2005) (helplessness and
hopelessness are “integral aspect[s] of indefinite detention”); K.
Robjant et al., Mental health implications of detaining asylum
seekers: systematic review, 194 br joUrNAl Psych 306, 309
(2009); Z. Steel and D. Silove, The mental health implications
of detaining asylum seekers, 175 medicAl j of AUsTrAliA 596
(2001); C. Pourgourides, A second exile: the mental health
implications of detention of asylum seekers in the UK, 21
PsychiATric bUll. 673, 674 (1997); PhysiciANs for hUmAN
righTs, PUNishmeNT before jUsTice: iNdefiNiTe deTeNTioN iN The
Us (2011).
1357. ACLU telephone interview with Dr. Terry Kupers, Oakland,
California, Aug. 8, 2013.
1358. Id.
1359. U.s. deP’T of jUsTice, bUreAU of jUsTice sTATisTics, meNTAl
heAlTh ANd TreATmeNT of iNmATes ANd ProbATioNers (1999);
mArc mAUer, ryAN s. KiNg, & mAlcolm c. yoUNg, The
seNTeNciNg ProjecT, The meANiNg of “life”: loNg PrisoN
seNTeNces iN coNTexT 15 (2004).
1360. ACLU telephone interview with Dr. Terry Kupers, supra note
1357.
1361. Letter to the ACLU from Dicky Joe Jackson, Forrest City
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Forrest City, Arkansas,
Mar. 7, 2013.
1362. Id.
1363. ACLU telephone interview with Dicky Joe Jackson, Forrest City
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Forrest City, Arkansas,
Mar. 12, 2013.
1364. Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Hartman, Charlotte
Correctional Institution, Punta Gorda, Florida, July 17, 2013.
1365. Id.
1366. Letter to the ACLU from Donald Graham, Canaan United States
Penitentiary, Waymart, Pennsylvania, Mar. 11, 2013.
1367. Id.
1368. ACLU telephone interview with Tommy Bryant, Jesup Federal
Correctional Institution, Jesup, Georgia, July 17, 2013.
1369. Letter to the ACLU from Louis Scott White, Holmes
Correctional Institution, Bonifoy, Florida, July 23, 2013.
1370. Id.
1371. Id.
1372. Letter to the ACLU from Ivan Vincent Anderson, Holmes
Correctional Institution, Bonifay, Florida, July 17, 2013.
1373. Id.
1374. Id.

1375. E-mail communication from David Correa, Coleman Medium
Federal Correctional Institution, Coleman, Florida, Apr. 16, 2013.
1376. Letter to the ACLU from Sylvester Mead, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Mar. 5, 2013.
1377. Letter to the ACLU from Jimmy Cochran, Suwannee
Correctional Institution, Live Oak, Florida, Mar. 8, 2013.
1378. Letter to the ACLU from Patrick Matthews, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 23, 2013.
1379. Letter to the ACLU from Libert Roland, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 11, 2013.
1380. Id.
1381. Letter to the ACLU from Darrell Smith, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 25, 2013.
1382. Letter to the ACLU from Eric Robinson, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 29, 2013.
1383. Letter to the ACLU from Ricky Carthan, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, Apr. 2, 2013.
1384. Letter to the ACLU from Alonzo Jason, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 30, 2013.
1385. ACLU telephone interview with Dicky Joe Jackson, supra note
1363.
1386. Id.
1387. Prison Labor, PrisoN Policy iNiTiATive, http://www.prisonpolicy.
org/prisonindex/prisonlabor.html (last visited Oct. 3, 2013),
(Noting that as of 2001, the average minimum wage for prisoners
paid by states for non-industry work was 93 cents; the lowest
reported wage for prisoners in the private industry was 16 cents);
Work Programs, fed. bUreAU of PrisoNs, http://www.bop.gov/
inmate_programs/work_prgms.jsp (last visited Sept. 30, 2013),
(Noting that inmates working in Federal Prison Industries (FPI)
factories make 23 cents to $1.15 per hour; the Inmate Financial
Responsibility Program requires inmates to pay 50 percent of
their earnings to satisfy court-ordered fines, victim restitution,
child support, and other monetary judgments, as well as a Cost
of Incarceration Fee assessed to some inmates); UNiTed sTATes
goverNmeNT AccoUNTAbiliTy office, bUreAU of PrisoNs,
imProved evAlUATioNs ANd iNcreAsed coordiNATioN coUld
imProve cell PhoNe deTecTioN 13 (Sept. 2011), (Finding that as
of 2011, the cost of a 15-minute phone call in a federal Bureau of
Prisons facility was 90 cents for local direct dial/debit card calls,
between 95 cents and $5.70 for local collect calls, $3.45 for long
distance direct dial/debit card calls, and $8.45 for long distance/
collect calls. Many state departments of corrections charged
similarly high rates, e.g., as of 2011, Mississippi charged $2.85
for local collect calls and $14.55 for long distance calls; the New
Jersey Department of Corrections charged $4.95 across the board,
regardless of the type of call or distance.). In August 2013, out
of recognition of the exorbitant prices of interstate long-distance
calls from correctional facilities, the Federal Communications
Commission passed reforms dramatically lowering the cost of
long-distance phone calls from federal prisons. These regulations
call for a rate cap of 21 cents per minute for debit and pre-paid
calls and 25 cents per minute for collect calls. While prior to the
reforms prisoners faced rates of more than $17 for a 15-minute
phone call, the cost of a 15-minute call is now capped at $3.75.
Press Release, Federal Communications Commission, FCC Bars
High Rates for Long Distance Phone Calls in Jails and Prisons
Nationwide (Aug. 9, 2013).

1388. Letter to the ACLU from Ignatzio Giuliano, Williamsburg
Federal Correctional Institution, Salters, South Carolina, Mar. 6,
2013.
1389. Letter to the ACLU from Paul Free, Atwater United States
Penitentiary, Atwater, California, Mar. 9, 2013.
1390. ACLU telephone interview with Jason Hernandez, El Reno
Federal Correctional Institution, El Reno, Oklahoma, July 5,
2013.
1391. ACLU telephone interview with Jesse Webster, Greenville
Federal Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, June 11,
2013.
1392. Letter to the ACLU from Euka Wadlington, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, July 9, 2013.
1393. Letter to the ACLU from Lloyd Wright, Lee Correctional
Institution, Bishopville, South Carolina, Mar. 20, 2013.
1394. Letter to the ACLU from Anthony Jerome Jackson, Lieber
Correctional Institution, Ridgeville, South Carolina, Mar. 28,
2013.
1395. Letter to the ACLU from Timothy Tyler, Canaan United States
Penitentiary, Waymart, Pennsylvania, Mar. 4, 2013.
1396. Id.
1397. Id.
1398. Letter to the ACLU from Dicky Joe Jackson, Forrest City
Medium Federal Correctional Institution, Forrest City, Arkansas,
Mar. 7, 2013.
1399. Letter to the ACLU from Jimmy Cochran, Suwannee
Correctional Institution, Live Oak, Florida, Mar. 8, 2013.
1400. Letter to the ACLU from Earl Crum, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, May 13, 2013.
1401. See, e.g., Glenn J. Abraham, Prisoners Serving Sentences of
Life Without Parole: A Qualitative Study and Survey 54 (2011)
(University of Kentucky Doctoral Dissertation) (“Eligibility to
enroll in academic or vocational education programs is tied to
length of sentence in some states with those inmates who are
not within some set number of years of their release date being
ineligible.”); hUmAN righTs wATch, The resT of Their lives 67
72 (2005).
1402. Id.
1403. ACLU telephone interview with Onrae Williams, Lee
Correctional Institution, Bishopville, South Carolina, Mar. 5,
2013.
1404. Letter to the ACLU from Antawn Tyrone Bolden, Jefferson
Correctional Institution, Monticello, Florida, Mar. 10, 2013.
1405. Id.
1406. ACLU telephone interview with Leland Dodd, Oklahoma State
Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 8, 2013.
1407. Id.
1408. Id.
1409. Letter to the ACLU from German Gonzalez, Hamilton
Correctional Institution, Jasper, Florida, May 2, 2013.
1410. ACLU telephone interview with Scott Walker, Greenville Federal
Correctional Institution, Greenville, Illinois, Mar. 11, 2013.
1411. See, e.g., Jessica S. Henry, Death-in-Prison Sentences:
Overutilized and Underscrutinized, in life wiThoUT PArole:
AmericA’s New deATh PeNAlTy?, supra note 14; Tinkering with
Life, supra note 45.
1412. See, e.g., Rachel E. Barkow, Life without Parole and the Hope
for Real Sentencing Reform, in life wiThoUT PArole: AmericA’s
New deATh PeNAlTy?, supra note 14, at 206.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 231

1413. Woodson v. North Carolina, 428 U.S. 280 (1976).
1414. Id.; Tinkering with Life, supra note 45.
1415. While the exact number of exonerated individuals who were
sentenced to LWOP is not known, experts have estimated that
it is lower than in death penalty cases. Since 1973, there have
been 142 exonerated death row prisoners. See Tinkering with
Life, supra note 45, at 449-50; Innocence and the Death Penalty,
deATh PeNAlTy iNfo. ceNTer.
1416. See, e.g., Jessica S. Henry, Death-in-Prison Sentences:
Overutilized and Underscrutinized, in life wiThoUT PArole:
AmericA’s New deATh PeNAlTy?, supra note 14; Tinkering with
Life, supra note 45.
1417. See Murray v. Giarratano, 492 U.S. 1 (1989).
1418. While the U.S. Supreme Court has recognized a defendant’s
Sixth Amendment right to counsel in criminal cases, see Gideon
v. Wainwright, 372 U.S. 355 (1963), it has not recognized that
right in post-conviction proceedings, see Murray v. Giarratano,
492 U.S. 1 (1989).
1419. Letter to the ACLU from Leland Dodd, supra note 1406.
1420. Jessica S. Henry, Death-in-Prison Sentences: Overutilized and
Underscrutinized, in life wiThoUT PArole: AmericA’s New
deATh PeNAlTy?, supra note 14, at 77; see also Michael Heise,
Federal Criminal Appeals: A Brief Empirical Perspective, 93
mArqUeTTe l. rev. 832 (2009); Marc M. Arkin, Rethinking the
Constitutional Right to a Criminal Appeal, 39 UCLA. L. rev.
503, 516 (1992); James S. Liebman, The Overproduction of
Death, 100 colUmbiA l. rev. 2053 at n.90 (2000).
1421. Id.
1422. Background Report on Death Penalty Habeas Corpus Issues
Prepared for the American Bar Association Criminal Justice
Section’s Task Force on Death Penalty Habeas Corpus, 40
AmericAN UNiversiTy l. rev. 53, 109 (1990), cited in Jessica
S. Henry, Death-in-Prison Sentences: Overutilized and
Underscrutinized, in life wiThoUT PArole: AmericA’s New
deATh PeNAlTy?, supra note 14, at 77.
1423. Note, A Matter of Life and Death: The Effect of Life-WithoutParole Statutes on Capital Punishment, 119 hAr. l. rev. 1838
(2006).
1424. Brandon L. Garrett, Claiming Innocence, 92 miNN. l. rev. 1629,
1671–72 (2008); Tinkering with Life, supra note 45, at 450.
1425. See Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act, Pub. L. No.
104-132, § 104, 110 Stat. 1214, 1217 (1996) (barring second and
successive post-conviction federal habeas petitions, and creating
a one-year statute of limitations for original federal habeas
petitions).
1426. United States v. Booker, 543 U.S. 220 (2005).
1427. Apprendi v. New Jersey, 530 U.S. 466 (2000).
1428. Letter to the ACLU from Michael Lloyd Cummings, Terre Haute
United States Penitentiary, Terre Haute, Indiana, Mar. 10, 2013.
1429. See, e.g., Molly M. Gill, Clemency for Lifers: The Only Road Out
is the Road Not Taken, 23 fed. seNT. r. 21 (Oct. 2010); Margaret
Colgate Love, relief from The collATerAl coNseqUeNces of A
crimiNAl coNvicTioN: A sTATe-by-sTATe resoUrce gUide (2006);
Office of the Pardon Attorney, U.S. Dep’t of Justice, Presidential
Clemency Actions by Administration: 1945 to Present, jUsTice.
gov, http://www.justice.gov/pardon/actions_administration.htm
(last visited Oct. 30, 2013).
1430. The commutation was granted to Reed Prior, a nonviolent drug
offender and addict who was sentenced to LWOP because of

232 American Civil Liberties Union

three prior state convictions for drug offenses, none of which
involved prison time. See Office of the Pardon Attorney, U.S.
Dep’t of Justice, Commutations Granted by George W. Bush
(showing the commutation of Prior’s sentence); Office of the
Pardon Attorney, U.S. Dep’t of Justice, Commutations Granted
by George H.W. Bush (showing no commutations to lifers);
and Office of the Pardon Attorney, U.S. Dep’t of Justice,
Commutations Granted by President Clinton (showing no
commutations to lifers, though former President Bill Clinton did
commute the sentences of several federal prisoners facing the
death penalty).
1431. Moreover, President Barack Obama uses the pardon
power—which restores offenders’ rights, and is distinct from
commutations to reduce a prisoner’s prison term—at a lower
rate than any other modern president did. President Obama
has granted only 39 pardons as of the writing of this report,
representing about 2.8 percent of those who petitioned; former
President Ronald Reagan pardoned 33 percent of those who
petitioned, and former President George W. Bush pardoned 3
percent. President Obama has pardoned 1 in 35 applicants; at
this same point in their presidencies, former President Reagan
had pardoned 1 of every 3 pardon applicants, former President
George H.W. Bush had pardoned 1 in 16, former President
Clinton had pardoned 1 in 8, and former President George W.
Bush had pardoned 1 in 33. Dafna Linzer, Obama Has Granted
Clemency More Rarely Than Any Modern President, ProPUblicA,
Nov. 2, 2012; Cora Currier, Despite New Pardons, Obama’s
Clemency Rate is Still Lowest in Recent History, ProPUblicA,
Mar. 5, 2013.
1432. Linzer, supra note 1431.
1433. Id.
1434. See, e.g., Daniel T. Kobil, Should Mercy Have a Place in
Clemency Decisions? in forgiveNess, mercy, ANd clemeNcy
at 36, 37 (Austin Sarat & Nasser Hussain eds., 2007) (citing a
survey of commutations from 1995 to 2003 showing a decline
at the state level); Molly M. Gill, Clemency for Lifers: The
Only Road Out is the Road Not Taken, 23 fed. seNT. reP. 21
(Oct. 2010); Rachel E. Barkow, The Politics of Forgiveness:
Reconceptualizing Clemency, 21 fed. seNT. reP. 153, 155-56
(2009).
1435. Barkow, supra note 1434, at 155-56 (2009); Molly M. Gill,
Clemency for Lifers: The Only Road Out is the Road Not Taken,
23 fed. seNT. r. 21 (Oct. 2010).
1436. Gill, supra note 1435.
1437. Id.
1438. Id.
1439. hUmAN righTs wATch & fAmilies AgAiNsT mANdATory
Minimums, The ANswer is No: Too liTTle comPAssioNATe
releAse iN Us federAl PrisoNs, Nov. 30, 2012, available at
http://www.hrw.org/reports/2012/11/30/answer-no; Mary Price, A
Case for Compassion, 21 fed. seNT. reP. 170, 171 (Feb. 2009).
1440. Gill, supra note 1435; Price, supra note 1439.
1441. The ANswer is No: Too liTTle comPAssioNATe releAse iN Us
federAl PrisoNs, supra note 1439.
1442. Id.
1443. U.S. Dep’t of Justice, Office of the Inspector General, The
Federal Bureau of Prisons’ Compassionate Release Program,
Apr. 2013.
1444. Id.

1445. ACLU interview with Burl Cain, Warden, Louisiana State
Penitentiary, Angola, Louisiana, June 4, 2013.
1446. ACLU telephone interview with William Dufries, Oklahoma
State Reformatory, Granite, Oklahoma, Mar. 22 2013.
1447. United States v. Craig, No. 12-1262 (7th Cir. Dec. 18, 2012)
(Posner, J., concurring).
1448. Adam Gopnik, The Caging of America, New yorKer, Jan. 30,
2012.
1449. See jAsoN A. schwArTz, iNsT. for Policy iNTegriTy, 52
exPerimeNTs wiTh regUlATory review: The PoliTicAl ANd
ecoNomic iNPUTs iNTo sTATe rUlemAKiNg 87 (2010), available
at http://policyintegrity.org/files/publications/52_Experiments_
with_Regulatory_Review.pdf (noting that “45 states require
some form of economic impact analysis” when considering the
implementation of new regulations); see also AclU, smArT
reform is Possible: sTATes redUciNg iNcArcerATioN rATes ANd
cosTs while ProTecTiNg commUNiTies (Aug. 2011).
1450. See Life Expectancy Calculator, ssA.gov, http://www.ssa.gov/
cgi-bin/longevity.cgi.
1451. See generally irA j. silvermAN & mANUel vegA, correcTioNs: A
comPreheNsive view (1996).
1452. See Life Expectancy Calculator, supra note 1450.
1453. See, e.g., U.s. seNTeNciNg commissioN PrelimiNAry qUArTerly
dATA rePorT A-8 (2012) (stating that the life expectancy
for a person in the general prison population is 64 years of
age), available at http://www.ussc.gov/Data_and_Statistics/
Federal_Sentencing_Statistics/Quarterly_Sentencing_Updates/
USSC_2012_3rd_Quarter_Report.pdf; see also United States
v. Taveras, 436 F. Supp. 2d 493, 500 (E.D.N.Y. 2006) (Life
expectancy within federal prison is considerably shortened); II
EOR 72, Feld, Symposium on Youth and the Law, 22 Nd j l
eThic PUb. Pol. 9, 63, n.231 (2008); United States v. Nelson,
491 F 3d 344, 349-50 (7th Cir. 2012) (acknowledging the
decreased life expectancy for incarcerated individuals based on
United States Sentencing Commission data); Elizabeth Arias,
Ctr. for Disease Control, U.S. Life Tables, 2003, 54 NAT’l viTAl
sTATisTics reP. 14, at 3 (Apr. 19, 2006), available at http://www.
cdc.gov/nchs/data/nvsr/nvsr54/nvsr54_14.pdf.
1454. See, e.g., John J. Kerbs & Jennifer M. Jolley, A Commentary
on Age Segregation for Older Prisoners: Philosophical and
Pragmatic Considerations for Correctional Systems, 34 crim.
jUsTice rev. 124-127 (2009) (finding, in a study of 65 male
prisoners age 50 or older, that 10.8 percent reported physical
attacks and assaults without weapons, 1.5 percent reported
physical attacks and assaults with weapons, 6.2 percent reported
being robbed, and 1.5 percent reported being raped).
1455. See, e.g., U.S. v. Nelson, 491 F. 3d 344, 349-50 (7th Cir. 2012)
(acknowledging decreased life expectancies for incarcerated
individuals based on U.S. Sentencing Commission data); U.S. v.
Taveras, 436 F. Supp. 2d 493, 500 (E.D.N.Y. 2006) (stating that
life expectancy within federal prisons is considerably shortened);
see also Arias, supra note 1453.
1456. See, e.g., roNAld h. AdAy, AgiNg PrisoNers: crisis iN AmericAN
correcTioNs 16-17 (2003). The combination of physical and
mental declines renders aging or elderly inmates 10 to 11.5 years
older physiologically, on average, than their comparable nonincarcerated age cohorts. See jeremy l. williAms, s. legislATive
coNfereNce, The AgiNg iNmATe PoPUlATioN: soUTherN sTATes
oUTlooK 1-2 (2006), available at http://www.slcatlanta.org/

Publications/HSPS/aging_inmates_2006_lo.pdf; see also
joANN b. morToN, U.s. deP’T of jUsTice, NAT’l iNsT. of corr.,
AN AdmiNisTrATive overview of The older iNmATe 4 (1992),
available at http://static.nicic.gov/Library/010937.pdf.
1457. Note that our analysis assumes that the annual prison cost per
inmate remains constant over time. The average age of the total
number of nonviolent offenders serving a life-without parole
sentence is 46. Recalling that the average age of admittance
was 36, a life expectancy of 61.5 years implies that the majority
of costs incurred lie in the future. Thus, to the extent that
incarceration costs continue to increase as a function of time,
constant incarceration costs is a conservative assumption.
1458. According to the Vera study, the largest prison costs outside of
the corrections department were underfunded contributions to
retiree health care for corrections employees ($1.9 billion), states’
contributions to retiree health care on behalf of their corrections
department ($837 million), employee benefits ($613 million),
states’ contributions to pensions on behalf of their corrections
department ($598 million), capital outlays ($485 million), health
and hospital care for the prison population ($335 million), and
underfunded pension contributions for corrections employees
($304 million). See verA iNsT. of jUsTice, The Price of PrisoNs:
whAT iNcArcerATioN cosTs TAxPAyers 6, 8 (2012), available at
http://www.vera.org/download?file=3495/the-price-of-prisonsupdated.pdf.
1459. In particular, the total price to taxpayers was $39 billion—$5.4
billion more than the $33.5 billion reflected in the states’
combined corrections budgets. See id.
1460. The average annual costs per inmate for the remaining states are
as follows: Florida ($20,553), Louisiana ($17,486), Missouri
($22,350), and Oklahoma ($18,467). See id. Mississippi and
South Carolina did not participate in the Vera Institute study. To
calculate the relevant prison costs for these two states, the report
relies on official, publicly available state government sources.
In particular, the average annual cost per inmate in Mississippi
is $18,162. See joiNT legislATive commiTTee oN PerformANce
evAlUATioN ANd exPeNdiTUre review (Peer), mississiPPi deP’T
of corrs’ fy 2012 cosT Per iNmATe dAy (2012), available at
http://www.peer.state.ms.us/reports/rpt565.pdf. Similarly, the
average annual cost per inmate in South Carolina is $17,343.
soUTh cAroliNA deP’T of corr., sTATisTicAl rePorTs, cosT
Per iNmATe fiscAl yeArs 1988-2012 (2012), available at
http://www.doc.sc.gov/research/BudgetAndExpenditures/
PerInmateCost1988-2012.pdf.
1461. U.s. deP’T of jUsTice office of iNsPecTor geNerAl AUdiT
divisioN, fed. bUreAU of PrisoNs ANNUAl fiNANciAl sTATemeNTs
fiscAl yeAr 2011 (2012).
1462. See b. jAye ANNo eT Al., U.s. deP’T of jUsTice, NAT’l iNsT.
of corr., correcTioNAl heAlTh cAre: AddressiNg The Needs
of elderly, chroNicAlly ill, ANd TermiNAlly ill iNmATes 10
(2004), available at http://static.nicic.gov/Library/018735.pdf.
1463. According to a Bureau of Justice Statistics study, for example,
approximately 48 percent of prisoners age 45 or older reported
some kind of medical problem (excluding physical injury),
compared to only 24 percent of prisoners age 24 or younger. See
lAUrA m. mArUschAK & AlleN becK, U.s. deP’T of jUsTice,
bUreAU of jUsTice sTATisTics, medicAl Problems of iNmATes,
1997 3 tbl.2 (2006), available at http://www.bjs.gov/content/pub/
pdf/mpi97.pdf.

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 233

1464. Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U.S. 97, 104 (1976) (recognizing a
prisoner’s Eighth Amendment right to adequate medical care);
see also Farmer v. Brennan, 511 U.S. 825, 847 (1994) (stating
that to establish “deliberate indifference,” a prisoner must
prove that the defendant was aware of a substantial risk to the
prisoner’s health and that the defendant subsequently disregarded
that risk).
1465. See Cynthia Massie Mara, Expansion of Long-Term Care in the
Prison System: An Aging Inmate Population Poses Policy and
Programmatic Questions, 14 J. AgiNg & soc. Pol’y 54-55 (2002)
(“Buildings may be scattered throughout the prison complex,
requiring inmates to walk a distance to access healthcare, meals,
and additional services and activities. Architectural impediments
such as steps, narrow doorways, and absence of grab bars and
handrails can present problems for inmates needing long term
care.”).
1466. External medical treatment is expensive and can represent a
significant proportion of a state prison system’s total healthcare
budget. North Carolina, for example, spent $18.1 million on
external healthcare costs for all prisoners age 50 or older, with
these external healthcare expenditures constituting 72 percent
of all healthcare costs spent on aging prisoners and accounting
for 34 percent of the total external healthcare costs incurred
by the state prison system more broadly. See chArloTTe Price,
N.c. deP’T of corr., div. of PrisoNs, AgiNg iNmATe PoPUlATioN:
2007 AddeNdUm rePorT 16 (2007). Similarly, aging prisoners
in Florida account for 34 percent of the total costs to the state
of all outsourced healthcare services although aging prisoners
comprise only 18 percent of the total prison population. See flA.
corr. med. AUTh., rePorT oN elderly ANd AgiNg iNmATes iN The
floridA dePArTmeNT of correcTioNs 8 (2005).
1467. See, e.g., ThomAs P. boNczAr, bUreAU of jUsTice sTATisTics,
NATioNAl correcTioNs rePorTiNg ProgrAm: seNTeNce leNgTh
of sTATe PrisoNers, by offeNse, AdmissioN TyPe, sex,
ANd rAce (2011), available at http://www.bjs.gov/index.
cfm?ty=pbdetail&iid=2056.
1468. See, e.g., U.s. seNTeNciNg commissioN fiNAl qUArTerly dATA
rePorT, fiscAl yeAr 2012 (2012), available at http://www.
ussc.gov/Data_and_Statistics/Federal_Sentencing_Statistics/
Quarterly_Sentencing_Updates/USSC_2012_Quarter_Report_
Final.pdf.
1469. See sTATe bUdgeT, fiscAl yeAr 2012-2013 29 (2013), available
at http://doa.louisiana.gov/opb/pub/FY13/StateBudget_FY13.
pdf.
1470. Note that this estimated cost includes the counterfactual lengths
of time served based upon offense category and jurisdiction and
would, of course, be even higher in magnitude were this not
taken into account, or, alternatively, if the actual average time
served for nonviolent offenses, in the absence of life-without
parole, is lower than that counterfactually assumed in our
analysis.
1471. Letter to the ACLU from Eric Hicks, Schuylkill Federal
Correctional Institution, Minersville, Pennsylvania, Mar. 22,
2013.
1472. crUel ANd UNUsUAl, supra note 15, at 8.
1473. See Vinter and Others v. The United Kingdom, App. Nos.
66069/09, 130/10, and 3896/10, Eur. Ct. H.R. (July 9, 2013).
1474. Catherine Appleton & Bent Grover, The Pros and Cons of Life
Without Parole, 47 briTish j. crimiNology 597, 608 (2007).

234 American Civil Liberties Union

1475. crUel ANd UNUsUAl, supra note 15, at 8.
1476. Presentations of Recommendations Rec(2003)22 and
Rec(2003)23 at the ad hoc Conference of Directors of Prison
Administration and Probation Service organized by the Council
of Europe, Rome (Nov. 25-27, 2004), cited in Léger v. France,
Application No. 19324/02, Eur. Ct. H.R. ¶ 47 (2006).
1477. Id.
1478. Id.
1479. Id.
1480. Id.
1481. Id.
1482. Appleton & Grover, supra note 1474, at 610.
1483. Id.
1484. Id. at 608.
1485. Id. at 608.
1486. Id. at 608.
1487. Dirk van Zyl Smit, Outlawing Irreducible Life Sentences: Europe
on the Brink?, 23 fed. seNTeNciNg rev. 39 (2010).
1488. Bowcott & Allison, supra note 16.
1489. Appleton & Grover, supra note 1474, at 601.
1490. Id.
1491. R.S. Frase, Comparative Perspectives on Sentencing Policy and
Research 14 in seNTeNciNg ANd sANcTioNs iN wesTerN coUNTries,
(M. Tonry & R. Frase eds., Oxford University Press, 2001)..
1492. Memorandum from European Union on E.U. Policy on the Death
Penalty (Feb. 25, 2000), available at http://www.eurunion.org/
legislat/deathpenalty/eumemorandum.htm.
1493. See Dirk van Zyl Smit, TAKiNg life imPrisoNmeNT serioUsly iN
NATioNAl ANd iNTerNATioNAl lAw 5, 13 (2002).
1494. Conseil Constitutionnel [CC] [Constitutional Court] decision No.
93-334 DC, Jan. 20, 1994, J.O. 1380 (Fr.).
1495. Corte cost. Sentaza, 27 settembre 1987, n. 274, Foro it, 1, 2333
(It.).
1496. S. v. Tcoeib 1996 (1) S.A.C.R. 390 (NmS).
1497. Id. at 213.
1498. Bundesverfassungsgericht [BVerfG] [Federal Constitutional
Court] June 21, 1977, 45 eNTscheidUNgeN des
bUNdesverfAssUNgsgerichTs [BVerfGE] 187, 245 (Ger.),
reprinted in Donald P. Kommers, The coNsTiTUTioNAl
jUrisPrUdeNce of The federAl rePUblic of germANy 306 (2d ed.
1997).
1499. Id. at 14 (quoting BVerfG June 5, 1973, 35 BVerfGE 202 (235
36)).
1500. S. v. Dodo, 2001 (3) SA 382 (CC) 303 (S. Afr.).
1501. Id.
1502. Roper v. Simmons, 125 S.Ct. 1183, 1198 (2005). See also Atkins
v. Virginia, 536 U.S. 304, 317 (2002) (examining international
community’s rejection of death penalty for persons with
mental retardation); Stanford v. Kentucky, 492 U.S. 361, 370
n.1(1989) (Scalia, J.) (stating that “the practices of other nations,
particularly other democracies, can be relevant to determining
whether a practice uniform among our people is not merely
an historical accident, but rather so implicit in the concept of
ordered liberty that it occupies a place not merely in our mores,
but, text permitting, in our Constitution as well”); Thompson v.
Oklahoma, 487 U.S. 815, 830 (1988) (Stevens, J., concurring)
(noting global rejection of the death penalty for youth age
sixteen or younger); Trop v. Dulles, 356 U.S. 86, 102 (1958)

(finding “virtual unanimity” within international community that
denationalization constituted cruel and unusual punishment).
1503. For example, in Thompson v. Oklahoma, Justice John Paul
Stevens, writing for the majority, found it appropriate to look
to the opinions and practices of “other nations that share our
Anglo-American heritage” and “leading members of the Western
European community” as aids to the proper interpretation of
the Eighth Amendment. Thompson v. Oklahoma, 487 U.S. 815,
830-31 (1988). Similarly, in Atkins v. Virginia, the majority held
it appropriate to examine the opinions of “the world community”
to support its conclusion that execution of persons with mental
retardation would offend the standards of decency required by
the Eighth Amendment. Atkins v. Virginia, 536 U.S. 304, 316
n.21 (2002). Most recently, in Roper v. Simmons, the Court
devoted an entire chapter of its opinion to discussion of the U.N.
Convention on the Rights of the Child, other international treaties
and instruments on children’s rights as well as foreign practice
on the death penalty to determine that the application of the
juvenile death penalty in the United States violated the Eighth
Amendment. Roper v. Simmons, 543 U.S. 551 (2005).
1504. The Paquete Habana, 175 U.S. 677, 700 (1900); The Nereide, 13
U.S. (9 Cranch) 388, 423 (1815).
1505. See e.g., rePorT oN The 1960 semiNAr oN The role of
sUbsTANTive crimiNAl lAw iN The ProTecTioN of hUmAN righTs
ANd The PUrPose ANd legiTimATe limiTs of PeNAl sANcTioNs,
organized by the United Nations in Tokyo, Japan, 1960 (noting
that punishments “prescribed by law and applied in fact should
be humane and proportionate to the gravity of the offence”).
The Eighth Amendment’s prohibition of cruel and unusual
punishment enshrines these same international legal principles.
For the last hundred years, it has been widely accepted that the
application of the clause extends to “all punishments which, by
their excessive length or severity, are greatly disproportioned to
the offences charged.” Weems v. United States, 217 U.S. 371,
349 (1909) (citing O’Neil v. Vermont, 144 U.S. 323 (1891)).
1506. Dirk van Zyl Smit & Andrew Ashworth, Disproportionate
Sentences as Human Rights Violations, 67 mod lAw rev 541
(2004).
1507. Customary international law, or the law of nations, forms part of
U.S. law. See e.g., Restatement (Third) of Foreign Relations Law
§ 102(2) (1986); see also Sosa v. Alvarez-Machain, 542 U.S.
692, 715-716 (citing The Paquete Habana, 175 U.S. at 686).
1508. See generally Leena Kurki, International Standards for
Sentencing Policy and Research in seNTeNciNg ANd sANcTioNs iN
wesTerN coUNTries, supra note 1491, at 331; see also R v. Dodo,
CCT 1/01 [2001] ¶¶ 37-39.
1509. International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights preamble,
arts. 7, 9, opened for signature Dec. 16, 1966, 999 U.N.T.S. 171
(entered into force Mar. 23, 1976, ratified by the United States
June 8, 1992) (Preamble: “Recognizing that these [inalienable]
rights derive from the inherent dignity of the human person”;
Art. 7: “No one shall be subjected to cruel, inhuman or degrading
treatment or punishment”; Art. 9: “Everyone has the right to
liberty and security of a person.”).
1510. Convention Against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman or
Degrading Treatment or Punishment preamble, art. 16, opened
for signature Dec. 10, 1984, 1465 U.N.T.S. 85.
1511. Id.

1512. Universal Declaration of Human Rights, G.A. Res. 217 (III)
A, U.N. Doc. A/RES/217(III) (Dec. 10, 1948) (Preamble:
“Whereas recognition of the inherent dignity and of the equal
and inalienable rights of all members of the human family is
the foundation of freedom, justice and peace in the world”; Art.
5: “No one shall be subjected to torture or to cruel, inhuman or
degrading treatment or punishment”; Art. 3: “Everyone has the
right to life, liberty and security of person.”).
1513. Weeks v. United Kingdom, 10 Eur. Ct. H.R. 293 ¶ 47 (1988).
In Weeks, the petitioner argued that the life imprisonment term
to which he had been sentenced for armed robbery contravened
Article 3 (prohibition of cruel, inhuman, or degrading treatment
or punishment) of the European Convention. While the court
ultimately rejected this argument, it did so because it considered
the sentence to be preventative in nature, i.e., to protect society
from a dangerous offender, and it analyzed it on that basis.
However, the Court noted that had the sentence been intended
as punitive rather than preventative, “one could have serious
doubts as to its compatability with Article 3 of the Convention.”
See also Kurki, supra note 1508, at 361-363; R v. Offen (No.
2) (2001) 1 W.L.R. 253 (Eng.) (noting that a sentence that is
completely disproportionate is liable to contravene Article 3);
Kafkaris v. Cyprus, No. 21906/04, Eur. Ct. H.R. at 5 (Feb. 12,
2008) (dissenting opinion) (concluding in a dissenting opinion
that because there was a possibility of release, the sentence did
not violate Article 3 of the European Convention on Human
Rights: “Once it is accepted that the legitimate requirements
of the sentence entail reintegration, questions may be asked as
to whether a term of imprisonment that jeopardizes that aim
is not in itself capable of constituting inhuman or degrading
treatment.”).
1514. Vinter and Others v. The United Kingdom, Application Nos.
66069/09, 130/10, and 3896/10, Eur. Ct. H.R. (July 9, 2013).
1515. Id. ¶ 107.
1516. Id. ¶ 119.
1517. Id. ¶15-32.
1518. Id. ¶ 112.
1519. See, e.g., Lawrence v. Texas, 539 U.S. 558, 573, 576 (2003).
1520. Ruth Kannai, Preserving Proportionality in Sentencing:
Constitutional or Criminal Issue 2-3.
1521. M.C. Bassiouni, Human Rights in the Context of Criminal
Justice: Identifying International Procedural Protections and the
Equivalent Protections in National Constitutions, 3 dUKe j comP
& iNTerNATl 263 (1993) in Zyl Smit, supra note 1506, at 543.
1522. Kannai, supra note 1520, at 3.
1523. The Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court art. 81(2)
(a), July 17, 1998, U.N. Doc. A/CONF.183/9; see also id., art.
78(1), at 53 (“[The trial court shall] take into account such factors
as the gravity of the crime and the individual circumstances of
the convicted person.”). See also The Statute of the International
Criminal Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia arts. 24(2) and 23
(2), U.N. SCOR, 48th Sess., 3217th mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/827
(1993) and The Statute of the International Criminal Tribunal for
Rwanda arts. 24(2) and 23 (2), U.N. SCOR, 49th Sess., 3453d
mtg., U.N. Doc. S/RES/955 (requiring that the Trial Chamber
“take into account such factors as the gravity of the offence and
the individual circumstances of the convicted person”).

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 235

1524. See generally R.S. Frase, Comparative Perspectives on
Sentencing Policy and Research, in seNTeNciNg ANd sANcTioNs iN
wesTerN coUNTries, supra note 1491, at 259, 261.
1525. Council of Europe, Consistency in Sentencing:
Recommendations to Member States and Explanatory
Memorandum. Rec. No. (92) 17.
1526. JCase C-213/99, Jose Teodoro de Andrade v. Director da
Alfandega de Leiixoes, intervener: Minesterio Publico, 2000
E.C.R. 11104.
1527. In interpreting the parameters of protections afforded by the U.S.
Constitution and laws, the U.S. Supreme Court has often found
it instructive to look to the laws and practices of other common
law jurisdictions. See e.g., Washington v. Glucksberg, 521 U.S.
702, 718 n.16 (1997) (Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist, joined
by Justices Anthony Kennedy, Clarence Thomas, Antonin Scalia,
and Sandra Day O’Connor, found it instructive that Canada,
Great Britain, New Zealand, and Australia have rejected efforts to
establish a fundamental right to assisted suicide, while Colombia
has legalized voluntary euthanasia for terminally ill people.).
1528. Andrew von Hirsch & Andrew Ashworth, Proportionate
Sentencing: Exploring the Principles, oxford UNiv. Press, 1
(2005).
1529. See, e.g., Forrester Bowe and another v. The Queen (2006) 1
W.L.R 1623 (Eng.) (noting that “[t]he principle that criminal
penalties should be proportionate to the gravity of the offence
can be traced back to Magna Carta ….” and that a court had
the power “to quash a penalty which was excessive and out of
proportion.”); R. v. Offen (No.2) (2001) 1 W.L.R 253 (Eng.)
(holding that, that absent a showing of significant risk to the
public or other objective justification for such a sentence, a
mandatory life sentence “can be categorized as being arbitrary
and not proportionate” and could amount to a form of “inhuman
or degrading … punishment.”); R. v. Smith (1987) 1 S.C.R.
1045 (Can.) (holding that a mandatory seven-year-minimum
sentence for importing narcotics constituted “cruel and unusual
treatment or punishment” because “it is inevitable that, in some
cases, a verdict of guilt will lead to the imposition of a term of
imprisonment which will be grossly disproportionate” to what
the offender deserves).
In Smith, the Canadian Supreme Court also set forth the test for
assessing whether a sentence is grossly disproportionate and thus
cruel and unusual: “In assessing whether a sentence is grossly
disproportionate, the court must first consider the gravity of the
offence, the personal characteristics of the offender and the par
ticular circumstances of the case in order to determine what range
of sentences would have been appropriate to punish, rehabilitate
or deter this particular offender or to protect the public from this
particular offender.” Id., ¶ 56.
1530. Forrester Bowe and another v. The Queen, 1 W.L.R 1623.
1531. R. v. Offen (No.2), 1 W.L.R 253.
1532. Id. at 277.
1533. R. v. Smith, 1 S.C.R. 1045.
1534. Id. ¶ 66.
1535. Id. ¶ 56.
1536. For example, Article 10(1) of the International Covenant on Civil
and Political Rights (ICCPR) states that “All persons deprived of
their liberty shall be treated with humanity and with respect for
the inherent dignity of the human person.”
1537. ICCPR, supra note 1509, art. 10(3).

236 American Civil Liberties Union

1538. Human Rights Comm., 44th Sess., General Comment 21 (Article
10), ¶ 10, U.N. Doc. HRI/GEN/1/Rev.1 (1994).
1539. Yong-Joo Kang v. Republic of Korea, Views of the Human
Rights Comm., Communication No. 878/1999, ¶ 7.3, U.N. Doc.
CCPR/C/78/D/878/1999 (2003).
1540. Basic Principles for the Treatment of Prisoners, G.A. Res. 111,
U.N. GAOR, 45th Sess., Supp. No. 49A, U.N. Doc. A/45/49, at
200 (Dec. 14, 1990), available at http://www.unhchr.ch/html/
menu3/b/h_comp35.htm.
1541. Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners, E.S.C.
Res. 663 C I (XXIV), U.N. Doc. A/CONF/611, Annex 1, 24 U.N.
ESCOR Supp. No. 1, at 11, U.N. Doc. E/3048 (1957), amended
by E.S.C. Res. 2076, 62 U.N. ESCOR Supp. No. 1, U.N. Doc.
E/5988, at 35 (1977), available at http://www.uncjin.org/
Standards/UNRules.pdf.
1542. Basic Principles for the Treatment of Prisoners, supra note 1540,
Principle 5.
1543. European Convention for the Protection of Human Rights and
Fundamental Freedoms (ECHR) art. 5(1)(a), (ETS No. 5), 213
U.N.T.S. 222 (entered into force Sept. 3, 1953).
1544. See Stafford v. the United Kingdom [GC], Application
No. 46295/99, 35 Eur. Ct. H.R. 32 (May 28, 2002); Weeks v.
the United Kingdom, Application No. 9787/82, 114 Eur. Ct.
H.R. (ser. A) (Mar. 2, 1987); Wynne v. the United Kingdom,
Application No. 15484/89, 294-A Eur. Ct. H.R. (ser. A) (July 18,
1994); Vinter and Others v. The United Kingdom, Application
Nos. 66069/09, 130/10, and 3896/10, Eur. Ct. H.R. (July 9,
2013).
1545. Stafford v. the United Kingdom [GC], Application No. 46295/99,
¶¶ 80, 87, cited in Léger v. France, No. 19324/02, Eur. Ct. H.R.
at 75 (2006). Most recently, in Léger v. France the ECHR did not
find a violation of Article 5, as it did not consider unreasonable
the national courts’ finding that it was unable to exclude with
any certainty the possibility that the applicant—who had been
released on parole by the time his case was heard—might
represent a danger in view of his character traits and personality.
But see the dissenting opinion of J. Costa ¶ 13: “In my opinion,
there is unfortunately no such thing as zero risk, but if we take
that approach, then we should never release prisoners on licence:
life sentences would always be served for a whole-life term, and
determinate sentences would always be served in full. Potential
victims would perhaps be better protected (except where
prisoners escaped)—but would transforming prisoners into wild
beasts or human waste not mean creating further victims and
substituting vengeance for justice? I am just asking.”.
1546. Weeks v. the United Kingdom, Application No. 9787/82. The
ECHR held in Weeks v. United Kingdom ((1982) 4 E.H.R.R.
252) that discretionary life sentences must include a mechanism
to examine release from prison and that the release process
must meet the requirements of Article 5(4), which requires that
“Everyone who is deprived of his liberty by arrest or detention
shall be entitled to take proceedings by which the lawfulness of
his detention shall be decided speedily by a court and his release
ordered if the detention is not lawful.” See also Thynne, Wilson
and Gunnell v. United Kingdom (1990) 13 E.H.R.R. 666.
1547. See Mastromatteo v. Italy [GC], Application No. 37703/99, ¶ 72,
ECHR 2002-VIII, Oct. 24, 2002).
1548. American Convention on Human Rights art. 5(6), July 18, 1978,
1144 U.N.T.S. 123.

1549. Under Article 18 of the Vienna Convention of the Law of
Treatises, which guides public international treaty law, a country
is obliged to refrain from acts which would defeat the object and
purpose of a treaty when it has signed the treaty. U.N. Doc. A/
CONF. 39/27 (1969).
1550. Report on the Situation of Human Rights in the Dominican
Republic, Inter-Am. Ct. H.R., OEA/Ser.L/V/II.104, Doc. 49
rev. 1 Chapter VIII(I) (1999), citing United Nations Standard
Minimum Rule 65 to support this contention.
1551. Report on the Situation of Human Rights in Guatemala, InterAm. Ct. H.R., OEA/Ser.L/V/II.111, Doc. 21 rev. Chapter VIII
(2001).
1552. U.S. Const. amend. VIII. The Eighth Amendment became
applicable to the states through the Fourteenth Amendment in
1962. See Robinson v. California, 370 U.S. 660, 666-67 (1962).
1553. See Weems v. United States, 217 U.S. 349, 366-67 (1910); Solem
v. Helm, 463 U.S. 277 (1983). But see Ewing v. California, 538
U.S. 11 (2002) (rejecting the claim that a 25-year mandatory
minimum sentence for stealing golf clubs imposed under
California’s three-strikes law is grossly disproportionate under
the Eighth Amendment).
1554. See Trop v. Dulles, 356 U.S. 86, 101 (1958) (opinion of Warren,
C. J.).
1555. Id. (concluding that “The Amendment must draw its meaning
from the evolving standards of decency that mark the progress of
a maturing society”).
1556. See Miller v. Alabama, 132 S. Ct 2455, 2463 (2012).
1557. Kevin White, Construing the Outer Limits of Sentencing
Authority: A Proposed Bright-Line Rule for Noncapital
Proportionality Review, 2011 b.y.U. l. rev. 567, 568 (2011);
See also James J. Brennan, The Supreme Court’s Excessive
Deference to Legislative Bodies Under Eighth Amendment
Sentencing Review, 94 j. crim. l. & crimiNology 551, 552
(2004).
1558. Gregg v. Georgia, 428 U.S. 153, 174 (1976).
1559. Rummel v. Estelle, 445 U.S. 263, 265-66 (1980).
1560. Id. at 286 (Powell, J., dissenting).
1561. Id. at 284.
1562. Solem v. Helm, 463 U.S. 277, 280, 292-93, 299-300 (1983).
1563. Id. at 292.
1564. Id. at 287.
1565. Id. at 292-293.
1566. Harmelin v. Michigan, 501 U.S. 957 (1991).
1567. See id. at 994 (Scalia, J., plurality opinion); id. at 1009 (Kennedy,
J., concurring in part and concurring in the judgment).
1568. Ewing v. California, 538 U.S. 11, 18, 30-31 (2003).
1569. Id. at 30 (finding that “To be sure, Ewing’s sentence is a long
one. But it reflects a rational legislative judgment, entitled
to deference, that offenders who have committed serious or
violent felonies and who continue to commit felonies must be
incapacitated. The State of California ‘was entitled to place
upon [Ewing] the onus of one who is simply unable to bring his
conduct within the social norms prescribed by the criminal law
of the State.’ Ewing’s is not ‘the rare case in which a threshold
comparison of the crime committed and the sentence imposed
leads to an inference of gross disproportionality’” (internal
citations omitted)).
1570. For example, in United States v. Scott, a defendant’s prior
felony drug convictions for crimes committed when he was a

juvenile, but for which he was convicted as an adult, were used
to enhance his sentence for drug conspiracy to a mandatory
life sentence without possibility of parole. The Eighth Circuit
Court of Appeals affirmed this sentence, devoting only one short
paragraph of an eight-page opinion to a proportionality analysis
of 21 U.S.C. § 841. Without any meaningful analysis of even
the factors laid out in Harmelin, the court stated in a conclusory
manner, “[Defendant’s] case is not the rare case in which a
threshold comparison of the crime committed and the sentence
imposed leads to an inference of gross disproportionality.”
United States v. Scott, 610 F.3d 1009, 1018 (8th Cir. 2010)
(quoting Harmelin, 501 U.S. at 1005) (Kennedy, J. concurring in
part and concurring in the judgment). See also United States v.
Ousley, No. 11-2760 (7th Cir. Oct. 22, 2012) (rejecting an Eighth
Amendment challenge to an LWOP sentence); United States
v. Graham, No. 08-5993 (6th Cir. Sept. 22, 2010) (rejecting an
Eighth Amendment challenge to an LWOP sentence).
1571. See Kevin White, Construing the Outer Limits of Sentencing
Authority: A Proposed Bright-Line Rule for Noncapital
Proportionality Review, 2011 b.y.U. l. rev. 567, 581 (2011).
1572. Graham v. Florida, 130 S. Ct. 2011, 2034 (2010).
1573. Miller v. Alabama, 132 S. Ct 2455 (2012).

1574. The Supreme Court has embraced this idea in the context of

juvenile sentencing and, in fact, applied its test for evaluating
capital sentences to reviewing life without parole, stating: “The
Court first considers ‘objective indicia of society’s standards,
as expressed in legislative enactments and state practice’ to
determine whether there is a national consensus against the
sentencing practice at issue. Next, guided by ‘the standards
elaborated by controlling precedents and by the Court’s own
understanding and interpretation of the Eighth Amendment’s
text, history, meaning, and purpose,’ the Court must determine
in the exercise of its own independent judgment whether the
punishment in question violates the Constitution.” Graham v.
Florida, 130 S. Ct. 2011, 2022 (2010).
1575. Graham, 130 S. Ct. at 2036 (Stevens, J. concurring).
1576. See, e.g., Alison Siegler and Barry Sullivan, “Death is Different’
No Longer”: Graham v. Florida and the Future of Eighth
Amendment Challenges to Noncapital Sentences, 2010 sUP. cT.
rev. 327, 350, 352; William W. Berry, The Mandate of Miller,
51 Am. crim. l. rev. (forthcoming 2013) (manuscript at 12);
Michael M. O’Hear, Not Just Kid Stuff? Extending Graham and
Miller to Adults, mo. l. rev. (forthcoming 2013) (manuscript at
2-3).
1577. Rachel E. Barkow, The Court of Life and Death: The Two Tracks
of Constitutional Sentencing Law and the Case for Uniformity,
107 mich. l. rev. 1145, 1166–67 (2009).
1578. See Berry, supra note 1576, at 12. (“one can conceptualize
Graham and Miller not as exceptions to the death-is-different
rule, but instead as an extension of the death-is-different principle
to death-in-custody sentences, which are slow and extended
forms of capital punishment.”).

A Living Death: Life without Parole for Nonviolent Offenses 237

cross the country, thousands
of people are serving life
sentences without the
possibility of parole for nonviolent
crimes. These sentences are
grotesquely out of proportion to
the conduct they seek to punish,
destroy the lives of convicted people
and their families, and misdirect
millions of dollars away from more
productive interventions such as
education, job training, and more
readily available drug treatment and
mental health resources.
“A Living Death” documents the
thousands of lives ruined and
families destroyed by sentencing
people to die behind bars for
nonviolent offenses and analyzes
the laws that led to these harsh
sentences. it reveals the staggering
racial disparity in life-withoutparole sentencing for nonviolent
crimes. it also includes a detailed
fiscal analysis, tallying the $1.784
billion cost to taxpayers to keep the
3,278 prisoners currently serving
life without parole for nonviolent
offenses incarcerated for the rest of
their lives.
This report contains the in-depth
stories of 110 individual prisoners
waiting to die behind bars for
nonviolent offenses, as well as
accounts from the prisoners’
parents, children, and spouses who
have been punished emotionally and
economically by their loved ones’
permanent absence. These profiles
cover the prisoners’ lives before
and after their sentencing, the
circumstances of their nonviolent
crimes, and the terrible reality of
their sentences.
Those currently sentenced to die
in prison for a nonviolent offense
must see relief. it is time to end such
extreme sentences and reevaluate
our sentencing schemes so that
our justice system holds people
accountable while being smart, fair,
and humane.