"Where I’m from, a felony is not freedom. Where I’m from, with housing loans, banking loans, it's all setting me up for failure in the future. Especially where I’m from I can end up dead or back in prison," said Donte Westmoreland to his prosecutor when asked why he wouldn't take the plea for a lesser sentence with the same, initial felony charge. Actually the prosecutor asked, "Why don't you want to go home?"
A felony conviction doesn't just affect employment, it can stop you from obtaining a passport or a driver's license, it can affect your child custody, your ability to adopt children, driving privileges, your right to own firearms, naturalization, college admissions, healthcare licenses, and a felony conviction can even stop you from renting and leasing.
After Donte explained why he would be taking no deals that included a felony charge, the prosecutor called back in15 minutes to say, “I never knew how a felony could affect black America," as the prosecutor announced Donte's case had just been dismissed.
Donte was pulled over in March 2016 for having dirt on his license plate, followed to the next gas station, and eventually found guilty when a witness said they intended to buy marijuana from Donte. He was sentenced to 8 years in Lansing Correctional Facility for less than a pound of marijuana.
What started as a fun college trip became a living nightmare as officers continued to follow Donte and his friends driving for miles until finally pulling them over for having “dirt on their license plate." The police searched the second car traveling with him and found less than a gram of marijuana. Instead of arresting anyone or letting them go, the police sends the crew to “clean off their license plate” further down the road, so a watchful eye can be kept on them. The cops are suspicious that there is a bigger trafficking charge to find.
Years later in jail, Donte reviews his court documents himself and finds out the "witness" against him, the one who claimed he was going to buy a pound of cannabis from Donte, was the son of a school donor and further, never got charged. None of the others traveling with him was charged.
Though marijuana usage is equal among black and white people, black people are 3.73 times more likely to be arrested for marijuana possession. Kansas Black incarceration rates are the 11th highest in the nation. Even the Department of Corrections said to the Kansas legislature in a memo, "Despite any language or statements to the contrary, the clear overarching criminal justice policy of the state is to lock up more and more people for longer and longer periods of time."
Donte was eventually exonerated in 2021 after a judge ruled the prosecutors had withheld an arrangement with the state’s key witness to avoid prosecution.
Stay tuned as we release more of the story or click the link in bio to hear Donte tell the story himself.
“No one will ever be by my side anymore,” said Donte’s youngest brother before he drove back to Kansas for trial. Donte’s core family unit in California consisted of him, his grandmother and his 2 younger brothers. Before he left for sentencing, Donte had to choose the foster family for his little brothers, as he knew he would no longer be able to help support them.
The Judge gave Donte 7 years, 8 months for his first offense on a pound of marijuana and he was transferred to maximum security prison in 2017.
In late April of 2019, large-scale testing began in Lansing Correctional Facility where Donte was kept, indicating over three-quarters of the inmates were infected with COVID-19. The Department of Corrections asked the governor to release prisoners near the end of their sentences in order to provide some level of social distancing. Governor Laura Kelly took no action. Meanwhile, Lansing is 1 of 2 most expensive prisons for taxpayers in Kansas at $32,053 per person per year.
Donte knew he had to fight to keep his family that was at risk of being torn apart.
Donte’s Grandmother passed away just before his release in 2020.
While incarcerated, Donte studied law, wrote 125 letters to state representatives, 40 letters to state senators, and worked to find every avenue that would lead him out of prison and back into his brothers’ lives. His letters simply asked to endorse his sentence reduction consistent with other people and statistics he had discovered.
In the State of Kansas, statistically 95% of people with no criminal history caught with a pound marijuana get probation; 5% go to prison. The 5 percent Kansas sent were all minorities. They sent one person per year from this specific county in the state of Kansas and in 2017, Donte was it.
He was able to retrieve character letters from his city mayor back home, professional athletes and doctors to prove he was a pillar in the community to no avail. “They don’t want to give you probation. They don’t like that you’re coming in from California,” says Donte’s lawyer.
The judge made a statement, “There is no man that is going to come in my county and pollute our community with marijuana. This is a gateway drug and quite frankly, you’re going to serve time for it,” sentencing Donte 7 years and 8 months for his first offense on a pound of marijuana.
How much did the judge want to charge Kansas taxpayers for a pound of marijuana? $228,000
How much did the judge want to charge California taxpayers for a pound of marijuana? $30,400
How much Donte saved US taxpayers when he got himself out of prison? $136,000.
Donte was exonerated in 2021 after a judge ruled the prosecutors had withheld an arrangement with the state’s key witness to avoid prosecution.
Against all odds, Donte was able to start his own cannabis brand, West by Illicit, OUT NOW at participating stores!
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Donte West_POW (1)00:00 / 35:35
In honor of justice and all that is right, we bring you Evelyn, the next highlight in our ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign, which plans to surface the silenced stories of prisoners of the war on cannabis. Evelyn was torn from her 4-year-old daughter in Sacramento, California and found guilty by a jury of her peers in Charlotte, North Carolina; Convicted by a prosecutor who moved from Washington DC to North Carolina so he could have a “positive public view.” Evelyn was sentenced to 24 years in a federal prison for depositing less than 1% of a bi-state cannabis operation’s profits into her bank account. While the attitude toward cannabis in California was positive, the receiving state of the operation didn’t feel the same. She was charged with Conspiracy to Distribute with the intent to sell marijuana. Federal drug conspiracy charges for more than 100kg of marijuana carries a maximum sentence of 40 years and up to 5 million dollars in fines. After trial, her new attorney discovered that testimonies given by other co-conspirators in the case were flat out lies and hooked Evelyn up to a lie detector to prove it. The prosecution came back with an offer, if she waived all her rights to an appeal, they would recommend she receives 8 years sentencing.
Evelyn had a decision to make, accept the 8 years away from her tight-knit family, missing her 4-year-old daughter grow or try and fight for 24 years from jail. "My daughter is either gonna be 28 years old when I get out of prison or 12. I call that blackmail. I signed the appeal." In Federal Blackmail Law, it is illegal to “threat to report, or testify against, a person for any violation of federal law, along with a demand for money or something else of value, is considered a federal crime.” 24 years in federal prison would have cost US taxpayers $939,792. Evelyn’s and her attorney’s fight saved US taxpayers from spending $881,947 on a cannabis conviction. I’ve got documents on my desk that say “United States of America VS. Evelyn LaChapelle”
"Staring at my peep toe shoes, I cannot get the thought out of stabbing myself in the neck with my very own heel," said Evelyn about her first moments of incarceration after being found guilty in Charlotte, North Carolina. A resident incarcerated in a North Carolina jail is 15 TIMES more likely to die from suicide than a free resident. From 2013 to 2016, suicide was the leading cause of death in North Carolina’s jails, accounting for 46% of the deaths in NC jails. That far exceeds the national average, which currently stands at 30% in local jails and 8% in state/federal prisons, according to the U.S. Department of Justice.
"Two deputies usher me to a cell with a bunk but no mattress, just a metal bed frame." They handed Evelyn a turtle suit, made out of padding with long velcro strips, to put over her bare body. They took her to Suicide Watch commenting, “At least it’s a new suit, you’re lucky to have it.” Evelyn remembers, "It's cold and it's your first night in jail. If I had not thought about suicide beforehand, I absolutely would have at this point." She wakes up to Day 1 with scratches all along her elbows and kneecaps from trying to use the starchy new turtle suit as a blanket. Evelyn was moved to a women's cell later that weekend as she began her sentence, "You're in the county jail for 23 months. We never went outside. There's no rain, no sun, no moon."
From 2017-2018, there were 20 suicides in North Carolina jails, 80% of which occurring within 12 days of admission. 95% had not been convicted and were being held in jail due to arrest or awaiting trial. In 2018, there were 5 suicides in Mecklenberg County Jail where Evelyn stayed and in 2021, it was deemed unsafe for staff, forcing them to release or transfer around 500 inmates.
"That whispered to my ear that I’m not good enough, I would never reclaim my life."
After being released from incarceration, Evelyn returned back home to California. She was hired nearly immediately as a Sales and Catering Coordinator, where she was required to complete a background check. There was no problem until a coworker searched Evelyn’s name online and took those findings to Human Resources. Evelyn was called into HR, asked to pack up her belongings, and leave the building. "That one hurt more than pissed me off, and I’m not easily hurt."
North Carolina offers services to aid justice-involved individuals in local, city or state reentry, but in 2015, nearly 30% (401 inmates) of the Mecklenburg county jail residents were being held for out-of-state prison, out-of-state jail or for federal agencies.
In fact, the U.S. Marshals Service pays as high as $160 per person per day in Mecklenburg to house state or federal detainees like Evelyn. Mecklenberg County Jail, where Evelyn was held for 23 months, houses more federal detainees than any other North Carolina county, according to the U.S. Department of Justice. A 2021 study from Disability Rights North Carolina found that jails were housing people for the state even while the jails were overcrowded. "My daughter is either gonna be 28 years old when I get out or 12." Evelyn had two choices: fight an unjust law or accept the guilty conviction for Marijuana Conspiracy and get home 16 years earlier. “The prosecution offered 8 years if I waived my rights to an appeal." Evelyn was ready to be home to continue raising her child, grieve her recently deceased mother and try to move forward with her life. She was eventually given 87 months in prison, just over 7 years. A Federal Marijuana Conspiracy Charge carries a maximum sentence up to 40 years. Brock D. Nicholson, a special agent on Evelyn’s case boasted, "They will have many years in federal prison to contemplate the consequences of the bad choices they have made."
Evelyn says it's “that folks are not considering when you sentence someone to prison for a crime that is nonviolent, for a substance that is now considered globally essential during a pandemic, for a substance that is legal in more states than not, for something that is traded on the global stock exchange, for a plant that is creating generational wealth and that is bringing in millions in tax revenue--That I could sit in jail, not usher my stepmom into the afterlife, not be able to raise my own child, because I deposited those profits into my bank account.”
About 2.6 million U.S. children currently have a parent in jail or prison. By age 14, one in 14 U.S. children experiences a resident parent leaving for jail or prison. Behavior problems, mental health, and delinquency are some of the outcomes most commonly considered in research on children with incarcerated fathers and mothers. Studies on early childhood (from birth through age 5) have generally shown positive associations between paternal incarceration and children’s externalizing problems Evelyn blindly watched her child grow up and used all of her allowed 300 minutes per month in prison to talk with her family. Evelyn was originally sentenced to 24 years in federal prison which would have cost US taxpayers $939,792. What it cost taxpayers to house Evelyn for 23 months in Mecklenberg County Jail and 40 months in a federal prison: $183,999.75. Evelyn and her attorney’s fight saved US taxpayers from spending $881,947 on a conspiracy cannabis conviction.
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Evelyn-LaChapelle-POW00:00 / 55:54
Natalia Wade is our next highlight in the ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign, which plans to surface the silenced stories of prisoners of the war on cannabis. She has a heart of liquid gold and a tale that needs to be told. She was charged with conspiracy to distribute marijuana in North Carolina, a state she had never visited before, and sentenced to 87 months in a federal prison.
Natalia Wade grew up in California, raised by strong women who taught her independence and to “get things on your own so you don’t have to ask anyone for anything…You’ve got to get out and get something early on in age.” She became a retail manager by age 16. At age 23, Natalia moved out to LA, got three jobs, and cultivated a life and community for the next ten years. When asked if she would like to have cannabis funds deposited into her bank account. She thought, “There’s no harm in that. I’ll do that too. Extra money on the side.” She made deposits for 8-9 months then ventured off, got her own place with a significant other and continued life. Years down the line, she hears that Evelyn is arrested, and Natalia calls the marshall to turn herself in. The investigation was led by HSI and the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department, with the assistance of several other law enforcement agencies, to include the Gastonia Police Department, the Concord Police Department, the Mooresville Police Department, the Pineville Police Department, the Huntersville Police Department, the Kannapolis Police Department, the Cornelius Police Department, the Waxhaw Police Department, North Carolina Alcohol Law Enforcement, the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation, the Iredell County Sheriff's Office, the Union County Sheriff's Office, and the Beverly Hills and Culver City, Calif., police departments.
“I’ve never even got a parking ticket or speeding ticket before.” Natalia Wade was sentenced to 87 months in a federal prison for conspiracy to distribute marijuana. She had deposited less than 1% of cannabis profits into her bank account.
“There’s no evidence of us shipping, selling any kind of drugs, any marijuana anywhere.” She and her 2 co-defendants went to trial in 2013. They all flew back and forth from California to North Carolina for their trial that lasted one week, Natalia says, “It only took the jury one hour to decide that we were guilty.” The minimum sentence for federal conspiracy marijuana charges is five years. Natalia received over 7 years. Forty-four percent of incarcerated women are black, although black women make up about 13 percent of the female U.S. population.
A 2005 analysis found that 43 percent of studies at the state level and 68 percent at the federal level reported direct racially discriminatory sentencing outcomes, impacting both the initial decision to incarcerate and the length of any ultimate sentence to incarceration. In North Carolina, when the defendant is black, a black prospective juror is 14% more likely to be challenged by the State than seated on the jury.
“I do know I have a purpose in this world…Just know that I’m a fighter,” says Natalia.
Natalia was sick and doubled over in her jail cell in North Carolina waiting on sentencing for conspiracy to distribute marijuana and was fighting for her health. “The nurse at the prison told me, ‘Just go take a hot shower, that’ll work for you,’ but there’s no such thing as hot showers in prison.” “A sick call is $20 every time,” Natalia remembers, “After $180 of sick call papers, I finally got in front of the doctor. She looked me in the face and said, “You look dead to me. Your blood levels are WAY off. You should be dead right now.” After seeing specialists, Natalia was diagnosed with Lupus and Rheumatoid Arthritis. She was told medical attention would be better at a federal prison but she was turned away from transfer because her condition was too severe to be accepted. She finally got to the federal camp in Victorville just to find out a harsher fate; The doctor only visits once a week now and “if you didn’t catch him by 10am that one day you were SOL until next week. You just suffer until he gets back,” she says. In the late 1970s, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that people serving sentences should be granted health care equal to what is available to those living in the immediate community beyond prison walls. 40% of incarcerated people have chronic conditions. Too many prison facilities in the United States are overcrowded at over 100% of capacity, which means they are not providing adequate care. If the correctional institution's staff denied care, the inmate would have no alternatives.
“I fought to have my life saved and I fought to be here today,” says Natalia. Natalia enrolled herself in a program through the prison that would allow her to stay at a halfway house in the final year of her sentence and get the proper medical care for her Lupus. “I do it with flying colors. I’ve never had any incidents, never gotten written up, never had any problems in prison with anyone,” she said. Two weeks before she’s supposed to finish the program and move into a halfway house, she’s called into the office. Natalia recalls, “They tell me I’m not eligible for time off to go home early because I’m a liability.” They’re response as to why, “Because if you mess up..you can’t go to county jail because they can’t take care of you,” referring to her newly diagnosed Lupus and Rheumatoid Arthritis. They already had it in their mind that Natalia was going to leave jail and immediately enter a life of crime. When Natalia found out about her indictment, which had been active for over a year, she called the Marshalls and made an appointment to turn herself in. During that time, Natalia worked at a very known retail store, “I have a license, I’m registered at the DMV. You can come to my house. No nothing,” she remembers. She was arrested and charged with conspiracy to distribute marijuana in North Carolina for putting cannabis profits in her bank account for 9 months, facing a mandatory minimum of five and a maximum of 40 years in prison alongside a $4 million fine for the marijuana trafficking conspiracy charge. Natalia served her full sentence of 87 months behind bars. “I didn’t get any halfway house, I didn’t qualify because I was a liability.” Natalia states, “There’s no nicer way to say it. You’re just a money sign; You’re there for them to get money and that’s about it.” Natalia’s incarceration cost taxpayers $263,167.75
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Natalia-Wade-POW00:00 / 33:41
Corvain Cooper (@40tonsbrand) is our next highlight in the ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign, which aims to share the stories of prisoners from the war on cannabis.After a Lakers game in 2009, Corvain was pulled over driving his friends home where he admitted to 1lb of marijuana and a bottle of codeine in the trunk of his car. These charges, Corvain’s first and second drug priors, would turn out to be the nails in his coffin.Later in 2013, Corvain was arrested in California, then shipped and charged along with fifty other people to Charlotte, North Carolina for conspiracy to possess with intent to distribute 1000kg of marijuana. “The indictment doesn’t match, none of these people hustled with each other, 90 percent of the people haven’t even spent one day in Charlotte,” says Corvain. Because of this, Corvain, Evelyn and Natalia made the decision to go to trial. After the one-week trial, it took the Mecklenburg County jury one hour to decide their fate, charging Corvain as if he were personally responsible for how much marijuana the network might have distributed over its entire history of operation, 40 tons. The third strike rule landed him a life sentence without the possibility of parole. Conspiracy charges allow prosecutors to charge everyone involved in a drug supply operation for the same conduct, regardless of their individual role. “When they led him into the courtroom,” Patrick Megaro, Corvain’s lawyer said, “the judge said on the record that he was extraordinarily uncomfortable with giving a life sentence, without the possibility of parole, to a 34-year-old man with children in a case like this.” However, Corvain was sentenced just the same. Corvain advocated and advertised for his clemency, finally reaching President Trump after 8 years behind bars and $290,394 of taxpayer money. Releasing Corvain saved taxpayers over $725,000, assuming he would have remained alive behind bars for another 20 years. “Ever since I’ve been home I’ve been doing the best I can to enlighten people to get their record expunged.” He said, “If I had had my record expunged they wouldn't have been able to charge me with life on the three strikes.”
After one week of fighting, it took the Mecklenburg County jury one hour to decide their fate, charging Corvain as if he were personally responsible for how much marijuana the network might have distributed over its entire history of operation, 40 tons. Corvain remembers, “It was hard to call your mom or kids and tell them you’re never coming home; You’re gonna die in prison,” he says, “but I never used those words, I always said I’m coming home. This is just a minor setback for a major comeback.” Today, one of every five Black men in prison is serving a life sentence. Black male offenders receive sentences on average 19.1 percent longer than similarly situated White male offenders. An increase in the proportion of white males in the jury pool results in a significant increase in the conviction rate for black defendants, and a neutral to negative effect for white defendants, according to a study out of Wake Forest University. Most Recently, the North Carolina Supreme Court banned the state from reinstating the death sentence on a Black man after a North Carolina judge found that his trial was influenced by racial discrimination in the jury. At the original trial, the prosecution removed half of qualified Black jurors from serving — but only 15% of white jurors.
Despite roughly equal usage rates, Black people are 3.73 times more likely than whites to be arrested for marijuana.
Corvain was relentless in spirit. He says, “If you look at any of my prison pictures I always have my head up high. I’ve read over 1000 books, when else would I have the time to do that, I just wrote 3 or 4 books; My book series is coming out soon called “Look Into My Eyes.” Corvain says, “Bet on yourself. and just keep pushin.”
Corvain was low in the hierarchy of the marijuana operation, but conspiracy charges allow prosecutors to charge everyone involved in a drug supply operation for the same conduct, regardless of their individual role. The prosecutor offered Corvain a plea deal of 10 to 20 years instead of his life sentence if he agreed to testify against others. People with minor roles in drug supply operations are often threatened with severe sentences for conspiracy charges if they do not testify. Corvain received a life sentence without the possibility of parole. According to the recently released Uniform Crime Report from the FBI, 9% more people were arrested for cannabis in 2019 than for all violent crimes put together the same year. Police across America make a marijuana-related arrest every 58 seconds, according to @natlnorml , at a time when the overwhelming majority of Americans want cannabis to be legal and regulated. “It is an outrage that many police departments across the country continue to waste tax dollars and limited law enforcement resources.” says the NORML Executive Director. “It’s the level of prison you have to go to when you have a life sentence,” says Corvain, “I’ve seen 8 murders, 7 suicides, so many attempts and riots. At pollock we were locked down for 2-3 years straight, maybe coming up for one month. One argument and the whole system locks down so you can't get any visits.”
Corvain remembers missing daddy daughter dances when they were 15 and 16 years old, being on lockdown, “so you can’t even call anybody, missing Christmases, people in there so depressed that they don’t even give a f*ck that it’s Christmas.” He says, “After you overcome all this, you get to the day of ‘Damn, I gotta depend on Trump to get out of here.’”
“When you’re waiting on a clemency, it’s a lottery ticket, so if you don’t get it, you have to wait for when [the next president] leaves,” says Corvain (@40tonsbrand ) as he remembers waiting, trying not to feel the weight of Trump’s last night in office as presidential pardons were announced, “It’s 11pm and I have to go to sleep so I say ‘F*ck it, I’m not getting it.’”
There are 40,000 people incarcerated for cannabis according to the 2004 Bureau of Justice Statistics' (BJS) Survey of Prison Inmates. That was the last time data about specific drug convictions was publicly released. Since 2010, BJS has had its budget cut 37%, now taking the Bureau an average of seven years to publish data collected in their Survey of Prison Inmates. Enforcing marijuana laws costs us about $3.6 billion a year. Data allows the people fighting for recognition to be seen. "They've put people in cages and forgotten about them. We need data to affirm [incarcerated people's experiences]," @drugpolicyalliance 's Kassandra Frederique says. It is a powerful tool in the effort to repair the damage left by the War on Drugs—we just need more of it.
The next morning, as Trump leaves the White House in his helicopter, Corvain showers and “suits up” his mind for the next leg in his journey. He is surprised when the counselor on site walks to his cell and tells Corvain he has 5 minutes to pack up and go. He remarks, “There’s no feeling that can match it. I broke down and cried.” There are 4 types of clemency. Pardon and Amnesty are essentially identical in practical effect, with the principal distinction between the two being that amnesty typically "is extended to whole classes or communities,” instead of individuals. Currently, there are more than 17,000 clemency applications pending before the Department of Justice. Corvain reflects, “Sometimes you got a letter..from someone you don’t even know. You couldn’t even get your mom to do this; Some people can’t even get their..friends to do this. This is a person that just believes in just the rights of the world and they just feel this is unjust.” In his recording you can listen to by clicking the link in our bio, Corvain shouts out to many groups including @candoclemency @lastprisonerproject @buriedaliveproject @marijuanamattersdc “and all the groups that participated in trying to bring a person back from death.” Cooper was granted clemency in 2021 by then-President Donald Trump after serving more than 8 years behind bars, costing taxpayers $290,394.
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Corvain-Cooper-POW00:00 / 47:28
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Kyle Page_POW (1)00:00 / 29:29
Kyle Page is the next highlight in our ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign, which aims to bring to light the suppressed stories from prisoners of the war on cannabis. Kyle turned himself in to the Olathe, Kansas police department after a warrant surfaced from investigating an acquaintance and he was sentenced to 82 months for marijuana possession and distribution in a maximum level security prison in El Dorado.
Kyle was released on December 16th of 2021. Six years at a maximum level security prison in El Dorado cost Kansas taxpayers $180,600.
He states, “Whether the system gets better or not, I am going to be successful.”
Our next highlight in the ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign, which aims to show the injustice in US cannabis incarceration, is Robert Franklin from Columbia, Missouri. He was sentenced 22 years without the possibility of parole for a pound of marijuana after pulling off at a “drug checkpoint” on the highway. Robert served 11 of those years, costing taxpayers $244,057. He had a 15 month old child at the time of his arrest. Robert says, “They railroaded me. They gave me 22 years without the possibility of parole for less than a pound of marijuana because I had a record. My co defendant got papers; She didn’t have a record.” He remembers, “They were talking about giving me life without parole.”
Robert Franklin, Jr. was in Lafayette County jail in Missouri for his trial for less than a pound of marijuana. He says, “I didn’t understand why I was sentenced so harshly. I got the book thrown at me. Well, you know, I was a black man in a small white town. Everybody that was in the courtroom was white except for me and my family: the secretary, the stenographer, the prosecutor, my lawyer, the judge, the jury.” Robert recalls the jury selection process and one moment in particular, “After they selected the jury, they asked if there were any questions from the jury pool and one lady said, ‘How long is gonna take because I’ve got a volleyball game to coach?!’”
It took them 15-20 minutes to come back with a guilty verdict. He would be sentenced to 22 years without the possibility of parole costing taxpayers $244,057.
Robert was sentenced to 22 years without the possibility of parole for less than a pound of marijuana by a “jury of his peers” in Lafayette County, Missouri.
He says, “They sent me to a level 5 security prison in Lincoln, Missouri. I did 6 years there around a bunch of ultra violent people. Ive seen people get stabbed, I heard about people getting raped, I’ve seen people get beat up, I’ve seen guards get beat up, guards get stabbed. They sent me there with the worst of the worst and I just had a pound of weed.”
In the unedited recording you can find on our website, Robert recalls the lack of purpose in these brutalities. “A lot of those people in there didn’t have hope for the future; They had nothing to live for, nothing to lose, so if you got into an altercation or something they tried to do more than harm somebody. So I didn’t understand why I got a nonviolent drug case and you send me around a whole bunch of violent people. I had a cellmate who shot somebody 6 times in the face and he got 15 years. And here I was with 22.”
Robert Franklin, Jr. was filing anything that he could, learning from anyone who came into the law library with a drug charge.
“I was in the law library so long I was a regular; The secretaries would help me find stuff. I filed for clemency and got denied. Then, I was talking to my mother and she said there’s this lady who wants to help you from Canna Convict. I got on the phone with her and she said she was gonna help me. We filed petitions. I also had a lawyer out of Kansas City hooking me up with some reporters. I got an ad in the Riverfront Times, I was doing telephone conversations, trying to be my own advocate, basically.”
Robert was released on July 1st of 2021, able to reunite with his family and his daughter who was only 15 months at the time of his arrest.
When asked about his adjustment to life out of prison, Robert says, “I’ve been free since July 2021 but I’m still on edge. Trying to watch everybody, their movements. I don’t do sociable things anymore. I don’t know if it's harder to get a job than maintain it because most of the jobs that I qualify for have me being around a lot of people and I can’t be around a lot of people.”
Robert signs off with, “For all those listening just think about what you’re doing. Think before you act. Don’t move off your emotions. If you’re out there, don’t keep your mind cloudy. And keep you a good lawyer.”
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Robert-Franklin-POW-100:00 / 33:08
Our next highlight in the ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign is Ronald Kennedy, Jr. In 2017, Ronald was arrested in his home for racketeering and the intent to distribute less than 450g of marijuana. He remembers the day he got arrested, “I looked out the window and saw my house surrounded. I’m wondering what’s going on. Once I realized, they already came in, slammed me on the ground, my mom, my sister and everyone else.” In 2020, medical marijuana dispensaries in Missouri generated nearly $30 million in state tax revenue. That same year, 10,650 Missourians were arrested for marijuana possession, according to FBI crime data.
In 2017, there were over 20,000 arrests for marijuana possession in Missouri with marijuana convictions accounting for over 53% of all drug convictions in the state. Ronald found out the details of his case on his first day in court, months after his arrest, and was eventually sentenced to 48 months in prison. His incarceration cost Missouri taxpayers $95,316.67
As the guards came to take 19-year-old Ronald to prison, he thought, “I’m not ready for prison, not for weed, for marijuana? Really? This is stuff you see everyday: Seeing your family, friends, aunts or whoever, use it for medicine.”
In Missouri, Black people are arrested for marijuana possession at more than double the rate of white people, according to the ACLU. In Clay County, Missouri, this increases to three times the rate. And in Johnson County, Missouri, and Lafayette County, Missouri, Black people are more than 10 times as likely to be arrested for marijuana possession than white people.
Ronald says in his interview at @strangemusic , which you can listen to through the link in bio, “Me going to prison for marijuana is just something I never imagined. Now, it’s like it’s everywhere.”
Ronald remembers his prison time for marijuana as a mental journey. He says, “That brought me to the lowest point, being lonely, being incarcerated, thinking a lot, understanding what my family is going through without me being there. That feeling of abandonment,” He says, “Prison is something that brought that negative space between us because of the absence of me being in their lives as they grew within the 4 years that I was absent.” Ronald let this drive him, bringing light to darkness, “It gave me that strength to just get through this day so the next day can come. And then you can get that much closer to making them happy, seeing them smile.”
Ronald was arrested for intent to distribute less than 450g and racketeering. He was sentenced to 48 months in prison, costing taxpayers $95,316.67
Ronald was sentenced to 48 months for intent to distribute less than 450g and racketeering. He says, “It was about the longest time of my life.” After serving months waiting for his court date, and taking a plea, he served 39 months in prison and was recently released in 2021 at the age of 24. When asked about his freedom from behind bars, Ronald says, “It does follow me.”
Those with a felony conviction still have the right to vote, but can be denied the opportunity to volunteer in hospitals or start a gym membership. Even people who don’t serve prison time struggle with a felony conviction on their record, as several apartment companies in the Kansas City area don’t rent to convicted felons. Even students have been rejected from nursing school because the school’s insurance program won’t cover those with a felony record.
Ronald remains humble and motivated. “I would say being free is just an eye opener. Freedom allows you to understand that being here is a gift,” he says, “Being free is something that not everyone gets to endure ever again. There’s people never coming home from prison because of marijuana.”
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Ronald Kennedy_POW (1)00:00 / 18:29
Eric McCauley is our final feature in the ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign, which highlights the unheard stories from prisoners of the war on cannabis. Eric was sentenced to 23 years in federal prison for conspiracy to distribute more than 100 kilograms of marijuana in Boone County, Mo., as well as distribution and possession of marijuana and money laundering. He spent 12.5 years in a federal prison, costing US taxpayers $453,740.63.
Eric says, “If I would have known how strong the right to counsel is, I would have fought harder to keep [my lawyer].”
Eric spent 3.5 years in Morgan County jail waiting for the DEA to build their case and go to trial.
“The jury came back and said they agreed, I did not sell 1,000 kilos of marijuana, which I thought was a really good thing. But they did convict me of the ‘lesser and concluded offense’ of 100 kilos or more.” Eric was conflicted, he went to trial to fight the charge of distributing 1,000 kilos and won, but was still convicted.
His sentencing judge paid no mind to the jury’s lesser ruling.
Eric says, “The jury is supposed to be the higher finder of fact; it is in state court. In a federal court, a judge can use the lower standard ‘beyond the preponderance of evidence’ to override the higher standard of ‘beyond a reasonable doubt’ so long as there’s some conviction. So because there’s a conviction of the 100 kilos she said, ‘Even though the jury did reject the thousand, I feel like you sold it,’ so she gives me 23 freaking years in federal prison as a first time, non-violent, cannabis offender from here in Missouri.”
Eric was incarcerated in federal prison, and frequently traveled to 5 different states and 5 different prisons. He remembers, “There are people who don’t have anything to look forward to in life, violent people, and they’re excited about being a warrior and leading this violent life,” he continues, “ then you get guys like me stuck there. You’re not violent, but you’re not just gonna back down. And you end up in some really screwed up situations.”
Eric was sentenced to 23 years in federal prison for conspiracy to distribute marijuana, plus what he calls, “a slew of enhancements, like of course you get money laundering, but it’s just for depositing marijuana proceeds in the bank. They say there’s sophisticated money laundering but there’s nothing sophisticated about it. “
In the end, he was convicted of conspiracy to distribute marijuana, one count of distributing marijuana and two counts of possessing marijuana with the intent to distribute, costing US taxpayers $453,740.63.
He adds, “The country does not want to incarcerate 30,000 people for this. If you’ve got dispensaries and all these people that are in violation of 841A1, and that’s what I violated, that’s what all those people violated, why are they still in prison?”“It eats at your mind. I was kind of aware of it, but I didn’t really realize it until I got home what kind of effect that has on you.” Now, after 12.5 years of incarceration for conspiracy to distribute marijuana, Eric McCauley spends most of time advocating for other cannabis prisoners and spending time with his son, who he remembers dropping off at kindergarten on his first day, “then I didn’t return until a month after he graduated high school, so I missed all of his K-12.”
Eric was released on compassionate release after over 12 years of incarceration with the help of prisoner advocacy group Mission Green. He says, “I was lucky enough to be the first recipient of compassionate release in the state of Missouri on a marijuana offense.”
Eric calls out the hypocrisy, “There are 30,000 people behind bars for cannabis, for violating the same federal statutes that I violated and that every dispensary, every grow, in the nation is violating right now. It is a complete crock of sh*t and a blatant disrespect of human rights of everything the country stands for, everything that voters want.”
FREEDOMS CAMPAIGN
Picture a perfect Sunday afternoon sitting in your favorite chair, listening to your favorite album, packing a bowl of your favorite greens. You pull out your phone and book a flight and rental car to make it out to see your family this year. In this one moment, you exercised 6 freedoms taken away from individuals who have been arrested on cannabis possession charges right here in your hometown.
The freedom to listen to whatever music you want, the freedom to book a trip and travel using a credit card, all seem to be so minor in our lives but take them away and your life will never be the same.
The ILLICIT Freedoms Campaign sheds light on an unbalanced criminal justice system condemning cannabis offenders. This year, we feature 8 prisoners of the 'war on drugs', also known as POWs, who served their sentence and are free to share their life changing stories. Like many POWs, the fight for freedom and civil liberties show lasting effects on their lives in an everyday way.
Each POW's time held in prison cost taxpayers roughly $120 per day based on the average annual COIF for a Federal inmate in a Federal facility in 2020. The rate of arrests for cannabis offenders is 9% higher than those arrested for violent offenses, all in the name of "deterrence" in a "members only" legal market.
