Humanity for Prisoners

October 25, 2004---the day my brother Maurice Carter died. He was only 60 years of age and had spent nearly half of his life in prison for a crime he did not commit. Our decade-long battle against the system was over. Maurice, having been finally released for medical reasons, survived in freedom for only three months.   I was numb. Then the personal messages started arriving. I share a sampling of meaningful notes that buoyed me during that time of sadness.   From that wonderful Pam Cytrynbaum, then with Medill Innocence Project, one of the moving forces in our fight for justice:   Oh God. Oh God. Here’s the hug I can offer. It comes in the words of Sister Helen Prejean, a friend of us all, and, magically, a friend to me while I was in New Orleans covering death penalty cases for the local newspaper. I was covering the grotesque trial of an innocent man, Vernon Williams. The night after he was (inevitably) convicted, I sobbed to Sister Helen. “What can I do? I fai...

As we observe the anniversary of Maurice Carter’s death in 2004, I’d like to share the HFP blog page today with former Grand Rapids Press Religion Editor Charley Honey. He and two others from the Press visited Maurice at a nursing home in Lamont, Michigan shortly before he died. I treasure this piece, and share it with you in memory of my brother. Maurice Carter knows 'It's so great to be free' Publication date:  8/21/2004, GRAND RAPIDS PRESS Byline:  Charles Honey / Press Religion Editor   This week, I had the privilege of meeting a man convicted of trying to kill someone. His name is Maurice Carter. He has gentle eyes, a warm hug and a soft smile that glows with gratitude. In this thin, ailing man, I saw a presence of grace that I have not witnessed in a very long time. "I know this God is for real," Carter said quietly, sitting in the lobby of an area nursing home. "He's just answered my prayers. That's what keeps me going....

I remember paging through a magazine as a little guy in the 1940s, and seeing the image of an older boy carrying a younger boy on his back. The caption read, “He ain’t heavy, mister… he’s my brother.” I never forgot it.   Maurice Carter died exactly 21 years ago this week. I called him my brother.   It all began in the mid-90s when I was introduced to this Michigan prisoner. Maurice, of Gary Indiana, was serving a life sentence on charges of assault with intent to commit murder. His claims of innocence in a Benton Harbor shooting case intrigued me. For the next month or two, he and I chatted, sometimes by telephone, sometimes in prison. It didn’t take long for this old reporter to realize that the Maurice Carter case not only had a serious odor…it reeked!   So, I agreed to partner with him to assist in proving his claims and obtaining his freedom. That was a huge victory for Maurice. His support group suddenly doubled. Instead of just Maurice, now it was Maurice and...

I first heard complaints and horror stories about prison food 3 decades ago. That was before Humanity for Prisoners was founded. I began working with a friend behind bars to help prove his innocence. This involved numerous prison visits. And, one doesn’t have to chat with inmates for long before the topic of food comes up.   Since I started HFP our team and I have heard stories you wouldn’t believe…mold, maggots, rotten meat, rodents and more! Last month, a fine piece was published about these issues, and that prompts me to talk about it again. Wilfredo Laracuente is a Reentry Program Specialist, and I’ll be lifting some of his quotes from a column entitled IS PRISON FOOD A LONG-TERM DEATH SENTENCE? The simple answer: Yes!   The prison cuisine story is far more complex than just bad food. Let me explain.   Here’s what else happens when Michigan spends less than $2 for three meals a day for its state prisoners---   -The Portions are too small . (A 2020 study by ...

Perhaps it’s time to listen to the comments of our citizens who resident in Michigan prisoners. HFP gives one this opportunity today:   Hopefully my kvetching falls on at least one influential person's desk who is sympathetic to changing the fallen state of the prison system. We hit a tipping point after COVID when the convict mindset took a "don't care" attitude. The pandemic disrupted the tight routine necessary to maintain order, and as convicts continually pushed the envelope--with little push back by staff--their use of moonshine, drugs, and violence increased exponentially, as did gang membership. Add to this new levels of depression, fatalism even, after learning so many friends died, and the anger at health care's apathy toward actually caring only worsened the issue.   Speaking of anger, this one falls directly on Michigan's Democrats: Their refrain since 1984 was they'd focus on prison reform if they ever reclaimed control of the state. Wel...