Yesterday I went to my sixth parole hearing...
I had been debating almost to the last minute whether to attend, or not. Finally, I sensed a peace about the matter, and went. Although few may understand it, what moved me to go was the Scripture, "Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven" (Matthew 5:16).
As stated in my previous journal entry, if I went, it would be to express my remorse. But I also wanted to be a witness for Christ. And I believe that by God's grace I was successful at both.
I was, however, surprised how long the hearing took. Perhaps forty minutes, which is rare. I thought I'd be before the board for far less time. Unbeknownst to many, much of one's parole hearing involves having the charges of what you're in prison for be read aloud by one of the commissioners into the stenographic record of the hearing. He or she will read off the list of crimes for which you've
been charged, and the sentence for each charge. Also, the names and ages of the victims are read into the record, as well as the time, date and place where the crime or crimes occurred.
Doing this usually runs the clock, so to speak. In other words, a bulk of the hearing consists of rereading both to you and the commissioners the facts of your case, as if neither you nor they didn't already know, decades later, what you're in prison for.
Next comes an array of anticipated but painfully annoying and agonizing questions as to why you did what you did. For instance, "Where did you get your weapon?" "Why did you choose this particular victim?" "What were you thinking?" "Were you high on drugs?" "Did you think about what would happen to you if you got caught?" "Tell us about your childhood?" No surprise questions, really. But they're asked with a degree of anger, and with an emotional intensity that leaves you sweating and squirming in your seat. It's much like being in a courtroom and being on the stand all over again. By no means an easy task of having to relive your misdeeds, trying to explain everything as if it all happened last week rather than many years ago.
Then comes the soft-pedaled questions. "So, what have you done with your life since being locked-up?" They will ask what your goals are should you be released. If you have family and a place to stay. If you have a job waiting for you. "Any hobbies?" "Have you learned your lesson?" "Are you going to behave yourself on the outside?"
I felt as if I'd been a naughty kid sitting in the dean's office at school being admonished and scolded for setting off a firecracker in the classroom. Unpleasant memories of my own misbehaviors as a child and having to give an account of them.
The reality is, your life and future is on the line. The parole commissioners have the power to release you on parole or order you to do more prison time. And parole itself is not necessarily a bargain due to its exceedingly restrictive nature, and how easy it is to violate any of its excessive rules.
Yesterday the most vocal of the commissioners, as expected, spent a lot of time revisiting the past, which was most unnerving. But then he switched gears to the present. He asked about my accomplishments and how it came about that I found faith in God. This I gladly explained with both courtesy and simplicity. He acknowledged my good progress, or words to this effect. In other words, the hearing was not all negative.
I'm glad I went to the hearing. Thankfully it was much different than the utterly dreadful parole hearing I experienced in 2010 which left me depressed for weeks. Two years ago, three mean-spirited commissioners spent their time hurling insults at me. They looked at me and spoke to me with utter contempt. There was only venom in their voices. One even stating that she hopes to fulfill the wishes of the justices who sentenced me, that I die in prison. Oh well. I wasn't expecting the commissioners to buy me lunch. But I didn't want or need the abuse, either. A lesson learned. One never knows what to expect when he appears before the parole board. Well, it's over now. Thank God!
D.B.
As stated in my previous journal entry, if I went, it would be to express my remorse. But I also wanted to be a witness for Christ. And I believe that by God's grace I was successful at both.
I was, however, surprised how long the hearing took. Perhaps forty minutes, which is rare. I thought I'd be before the board for far less time. Unbeknownst to many, much of one's parole hearing involves having the charges of what you're in prison for be read aloud by one of the commissioners into the stenographic record of the hearing. He or she will read off the list of crimes for which you've
been charged, and the sentence for each charge. Also, the names and ages of the victims are read into the record, as well as the time, date and place where the crime or crimes occurred.
Doing this usually runs the clock, so to speak. In other words, a bulk of the hearing consists of rereading both to you and the commissioners the facts of your case, as if neither you nor they didn't already know, decades later, what you're in prison for.
Next comes an array of anticipated but painfully annoying and agonizing questions as to why you did what you did. For instance, "Where did you get your weapon?" "Why did you choose this particular victim?" "What were you thinking?" "Were you high on drugs?" "Did you think about what would happen to you if you got caught?" "Tell us about your childhood?" No surprise questions, really. But they're asked with a degree of anger, and with an emotional intensity that leaves you sweating and squirming in your seat. It's much like being in a courtroom and being on the stand all over again. By no means an easy task of having to relive your misdeeds, trying to explain everything as if it all happened last week rather than many years ago.
Then comes the soft-pedaled questions. "So, what have you done with your life since being locked-up?" They will ask what your goals are should you be released. If you have family and a place to stay. If you have a job waiting for you. "Any hobbies?" "Have you learned your lesson?" "Are you going to behave yourself on the outside?"
I felt as if I'd been a naughty kid sitting in the dean's office at school being admonished and scolded for setting off a firecracker in the classroom. Unpleasant memories of my own misbehaviors as a child and having to give an account of them.
The reality is, your life and future is on the line. The parole commissioners have the power to release you on parole or order you to do more prison time. And parole itself is not necessarily a bargain due to its exceedingly restrictive nature, and how easy it is to violate any of its excessive rules.
Yesterday the most vocal of the commissioners, as expected, spent a lot of time revisiting the past, which was most unnerving. But then he switched gears to the present. He asked about my accomplishments and how it came about that I found faith in God. This I gladly explained with both courtesy and simplicity. He acknowledged my good progress, or words to this effect. In other words, the hearing was not all negative.
I'm glad I went to the hearing. Thankfully it was much different than the utterly dreadful parole hearing I experienced in 2010 which left me depressed for weeks. Two years ago, three mean-spirited commissioners spent their time hurling insults at me. They looked at me and spoke to me with utter contempt. There was only venom in their voices. One even stating that she hopes to fulfill the wishes of the justices who sentenced me, that I die in prison. Oh well. I wasn't expecting the commissioners to buy me lunch. But I didn't want or need the abuse, either. A lesson learned. One never knows what to expect when he appears before the parole board. Well, it's over now. Thank God!
D.B.
