Powers that Be.

For over 44 years, I have lived behind bars. My intent in writing is not to offer excuses for my past crimes; there are none that could suffice. On January 7, 1979, I committed robberies, fully aware that my actions instilled terror. Ten days later, during an escape from a dental office where I was receiving treatment, I abducted the dental assistant. My reckless behavior led to the death of an innocent man.

As a young man, I was foolish and ensnared by addiction, acting without foresight or intention to cause harm. Yet, that does not mitigate my actions. I recognize that my crimes warranted punishment. Initially sentenced to death, I spent over five years on death row before my case was overturned due to a question of intent. While I was indeed guilty of murder, the shooting was not deliberate. There was no malice, only profound folly. Ultimately, I received a life sentence. It is beyond my capacity to judge what constitutes appropriate retribution for my wrongdoings. If punishment were the sole consideration, justice would remain elusive.

Had the death sentence been executed, I would have been sorrowful but not resentful. My absence of judgment cost an innocent life. When sentenced to life imprisonment, had the Parole Board declared it would be lifelong, I would have accepted it as deserved. However, that was not their message. At my initial parole hearing, after extensive questioning about my past and my remorse, I was informed that parole would hinge on my conduct, program completion, and self-improvement.

Nearly so, I followed the path set before me. I earned two associate degrees and various vocational certifications, and in August 2004, after twenty-five years of incarceration, I was approved for work release. It took fifteen months for my transfer to a pre-transitional program, which I completed with commendation. Yet, due to a complaint to the parole board, my impending release was thwarted, and I was returned to prison without fault.

Four months later, the Parole Board tentatively granted parole, contingent upon successful completion of the work release program. I fulfilled this with exemplary work evaluations and was scheduled for release on October 25, 2006. However, on October 20, the Parole Board reversed their decision, citing “new information,” which, in truth, did not exist.

The Cobb County District Attorney had resurrected old armed robbery cases from the dead docket solely to impede my release. After prolonged legal battles, federal courts concluded that my constitutional rights had been violated. The additional sentences were nullified, theoretically restoring my release status.

Years have passed, and the Parole Board, now with new members, continues to deny parole annually. They claim that the time served is insufficient given the gravity of the offenses. Yet, they possess no new evidence beyond what was available to the previous board. The only change is the continued interference by those with political clout, infringing upon my rights and obstructing my release.

I was told that the victim’s family asked the District Attorney to do whatever they could to keep me locked up. I can understand and respect the victim’s position. However, does that give the county the right to abuse the system?
I acknowledge that neither the victims and their families, nor Cobb County, will ever be fully satisfied with my sentence. I do not expect forgiveness for my past actions and crimes. I recognize that it is difficult for everyone to be satisfied with the punishment aspect.

However, it is important to note that I have educated myself and proven to the system that I have been rehabilitated, with the help and direction provided by the system’s structure. The Parole Board has agreed twice and would have paroled me if not for the interference of the politically powerful.

It is concerning that powerful individuals can override the decisions of a system designed to work together. Such interference undermines the integrity of the system and raises questions about fairness and impartiality.

By Raymond Lee Franklin