Marilyn is serving twenty-two-years-to-life for participating in an armed robbery in which one of the victims was shot and killed. Marilyn was not present at the shooting, but she was charged with aggravated murder in addition to burglary and several counts of robbery. She initially faced the death penalty before pleading guilty to murder and robbery charges. Earlier in life, she had pursued a modeling career. After dropping out of school in the ninth grade, then marriage and pregnancy at a young age, Marilyn set aside her plans. After her husband’s violent death, she became involved with an abusive boyfriend. Her boyfriend initiated the robbery and did the shooting that led to her incarceration. While in prison, Marilyn overcame serious mental illness, obtained her GED, completed numerous certificate programs, and obtained her cosmetology license. She also organized a charitable fund-raiser for breast cancer research. Marilyn has twice been denied parole. The dispute concerning Marilyn’s parole status is featured in an exposé on the Ohio parole system in the Cleveland Free Times.1
Marilyn
I AM FORTY-FOUR years old. I was raised in Cleveland, but I was born in Newport News, Virginia. My mother had ten kids. There are five girls and five boys. My family struggled. We didn’t have a lot of money. I never was mentally or physically abused by my family. They were always good to me. They gave me what they could give me, but it still was a struggle, considering that we were a big family.
I have three daughters and three granddaughters and one grandson. I stopped school after the ninth grade because I got pregnant and I just kind of quit. I wasn’t really encouraged to continue school once I was pregnant and I didn’t want to go anymore. I had my first child when I was fifteen. I had my second child when I was seventeen. Then I got married at seventeen. My husband was a year older than me. He worked for a bed manufacturer. My youngest daughter was born while I was in prison. I really feel like her surrogate mother because I wasn’t there to raise her as I raised my other children.
I’ve been a widow since 1976, when my husband was killed. My husband was killed on the Fourth of July; actually it was around 2:00 A.M. on the fifth of July. We were riding down the street and this White guy that we didn’t know shot him for no apparent reason. I was twenty and my husband was twenty-one when he was killed. My sister and I were also in the car, but we were very fortunate.
I never got any counseling when my husband was killed. I was very lonely and I was still mourning. I guess it was just a combination of things and I got involved with this guy who had just gotten out of prison after serving five years. I didn’t know anything about him when I met him. When we first met, he was nice. When he moved into my house, he became very abusive. He didn’t abuse me physically very much, but he abused me mentally. For example, he always had this gun and threatened to use it. He would find me if I would leave. He wanted me to prostitute for him. It sounds strange, but I was brainwashed by this man. I couldn’t think. I got to the point where I went to my parents and wanted to move back home, but I wasn’t woman enough to say, “Mom, I’m moving back home because this man is running me crazy.” He didn’t want people in my house; it was strange. I think my mother and everybody knew that he was abusing me. My kids were young, so they couldn’t really understand what was going on. I always tried to make them go to their room so that they couldn’t see what was going on. He and I were together for under a year before I came to prison with this life sentence.
Then one day he led me to believe that we were going to his mom’s house. She lived above an after-hours place. But when we got there, his mom wasn’t there. We had a few drinks at the after-hours place and he started robbing the place. He told me to put stuff in the bag and I did it. I was really afraid of the guy. I was scared if I didn’t do it, he would smack me around. There were about two people in the place. I did not have a gun that night. When I left I got in the car that was parked two streets over and then I heard a gunshot. He never told me that somebody was killed that night; he told me that he got into a fight and the gun accidentally went off. I was two streets over when the guy was shot. When we were arrested, I admitted my crime. I knew it was wrong; I did take someone’s stuff. They kept asking me where was the gun. Two witnesses said I had a gun and two witnesses said I didn’t. I did not kill anyone. I did not have a gun.
This was in April 1982. They charged me with aggravated murder—with specification, burglary and robbery. I was facing the death penalty. They said I could be the first woman in Ohio to get the electric chair. When I first was arrested, I did not have a lawyer present. I made a statement to the police because they told me if I made a statement and told them what happened, they would just charge me with robbery. But they charged me with both crimes.
My bond was $200,000. I had never been in prison; this is my first incarceration. First, I had a public defender, then I had a private attorney. My parents hired a lawyer and paid him $4,000. At first, I didn’t feel comfortable with the public defender, but looking back, they were doing more for me than the hired attorney. The private attorney told me that I might as well plead guilty because I had already made a statement to the police. I thought the lawyers would have reinvestigated on their own. They just wanted me to plead guilty. On the plea bargain, they gave me fifteen-to-life for the murder, and two terms of seven-to-twenty-five years. One term of seven-to-twenty-five years runs together with the fifteen-to-life sentence. That means you have to do your first sentence and then start all over again.
I took the plea. I was on suicide watch. I didn’t know I was pregnant at the time. I was taking mind medication and they told me that if I pled guilty and testified against my co-defendant, I would get fifteen-years-to-life. I never loved this man; I was afraid of him, and I wasn’t well. But I believed that people who actually killed someone got fifteen-to-life, so I did not testify against him and I wound up getting all of this time. I felt that I should have gone to a jury trial if I was going to get a twenty-to-life sentence. My co-defendant went to trial first and the jury found him guilty, so they really didn’t need me then. My co-defendant got thirty-years-to-life.
I feel that I’m a role model prisoner. I don’t get in trouble and I don’t get tickets. When I went to the parole board in 1996, I had already done fourteen years and they required a psych evaluation. So I got the psych evaluation and I went back and they gave me five years. I told the parole board that I needed counseling. I knew I needed counseling with all that has happened to me. I didn’t think I would get five more years because I asked for more counseling. When I finished the five years I went back to the board and got three more years. I go back to the board in 2003.
I was on all types of medications when I was first arrested. I was on a suicidal ward and taking mind medication—psychotropic drugs—to calm me down. I wasn’t upset and I wasn’t acting bizarre, but I was facing the death penalty and they felt they had to keep me settled. I was interviewed twice by a state doctor to see if I was mentally competent. I don’t believe that I was, but they said I was. How could I be mentally competent when they put me on the suicide ward? I was on the medications for a long time. Then I went to the hospital and found I was pregnant; that’s when they had to stop giving me the mind medications.
I wish that I had not been pregnant when I came to prison because I didn’t know anyone when I came to prison and I was fighting two battles just to survive for me and my child. After I gave birth to my daughter in December 1982, they wanted to take my baby. I had a complete nervous breakdown in February 1983. They called it postpartum depression. After a while, I was sent to the mental hospital at the forensic center. I stayed there for about six months after I was sentenced. I had the breakdown because I was stressed. I had a twenty-two-years-to-life sentence, I could face the electric chair, they tried to take my baby, I wasn’t going to be home with my family … it was a combination of things.
How could I fight if I wasn’t mentally competent? When I came back from the mental hospital, they wanted to put me on more mind medication. Mind medication is not the answer. It doesn’t make you think straight and you hallucinate. I stopped taking the medication because I wanted to get myself back together. After a while, I got myself together and I started going to school to get my GED.
All of my sisters graduated from high school. I was the only one who didn’t graduate. Before prison, I went to modeling school and I got a certificate. I also enjoyed designing my own clothes. When I got to prison, I became determined. I said, “Well, I’m incarcerated; I have to do something.” If you wanted to do anything like go to college, you had to have a GED So I decided to put my mind to it. I took my GED seven times; it was hard, but I did it. I was very proud of myself; I had had a complete nervous breakdown and got myself back together. After I got my GED, I went to school and got my cosmetology licenses for instruction, managing, and operating.
When my friend, Carmen, another inmate, was here, her mother had cancer and she wanted to do a cancer walk-a-thon. So we did a walk-a-thon. If you paid ten dollars, you got a dinner. We had a banquet and if the women wanted to walk, they walked. The women won prizes and things. We raised one thousand dollars in the cancer-walk-a-thon. I really liked doing the benefit. It was very exciting to get so many people involved in it, even if they didn’t have cancer or know anyone with cancer. We could do benefits for so many other illnesses like AIDS and diabetes. I’d like to do more benefits like this if I ever go home.
Some days, it’s very hard to be in prison, but I came to the conclusion that I just try to take one day as it comes. If I wake up happy, I roll with it. I have gotten much stronger since I’ve been incarcerated. I’m very independent now; I don’t depend on anyone. Before, I was following people; I was weak and gullible. Now I make my own decisions. People come in and ask me how I did more than twenty years in prison. They may have a year or two years to do and they ask, “How did you do it?” I explain to them that it wasn’t that easy. It’s not like something I can take off the shelf and give you. I find that you have to take one day at a time, find something interesting to do that will benefit you and keep your mind occupied. Some days, I feel depressed and don’t want to get out of bed, but I tell myself that I have to get out of bed and go to work. I work for the laundry here and I do the inmates’ clothes. I like that job. It keeps me busy and it keeps my mind from just thinking about doing my time.
My family members were very close to me when I was first incarcerated. Now that I’ve been away so long, I’m afraid that they don’t really know me. A lot of people come to prison, they could be any race, and their family members just don’t understand the prison life and how lonely and depressing it can be at times. At first everyone is helping you out, then they forget about their loved ones. We’re still women, we’re still human beings; we just made a foolish mistake. It could be anybody, your priest, the cops, your best friend, rich or poor. Family members should be more supportive of some of the people that are incarcerated. Some inmates never receive any mail, no money orders, no food boxes, none of that. That makes a person get bitter. It’s important for people to get mail, visits, and money orders. We have to survive in here, too. They’re not giving away personal items, we have to buy that stuff. Everything is expensive for us, too, even if we are in prison.
A lot of women in here won’t be woman enough to say that they were abused by a man. I want women to know that I was abused by a man and I’m doing time for a man, and that’s something I’m never going to do again once I’m released. I’m not that proud; I was used by this man, I was abused by this man, and I went through enough. I don’t think domestic violence is dealt with enough in the Black community. I think there should be more information and pamphlets that are directed to the Black community in order to recognize the abuse in the community. I never went to a domestic violence shelter because I didn’t really know that it was abuse. In prison, they started domestic violence classes and I realized my experience was abusive. The community should not be so harsh on inmates. Because some women have low IQs, low self-esteem, or can’t read or write, when they try to defend themselves they still get a life sentence.
When I came to prison, my oldest daughter was twelve and my youngest was ten. My parents raised them. They are doing fine; they’re good girls. They didn’t get into drugs or anything. They’ve been to college. My oldest daughter is a beautician and is renting a house. At one time she had custody of my youngest daughter, but the youngest is an adult now and takes care of herself. My second oldest works for a law firm. They went on with their lives. My youngest daughter had a difficult time during my incarceration. She was in a foster home and some treatment centers after suicide attempts. She’s a good girl, she gets good grades in school; she just misses me. She knows why I’m in prison and she knows why her father is in prison. I didn’t cut any corners with her. She asked me why I was in prison and I told her because I have no reason to lie about that. Each of my daughters is very open. They have tried to talk to lawyers and they have done everything possible that they could do to get me out of prison. They want me home. My grandkids are growing up and I haven’t been there for any of them.
The staff gives me my respect and I give them theirs, too. I don’t disrespect anyone. I think they give me a little more respect because of the cancer-walk-a-thon I did at the prison. I try to be cordial to other people because I know there are a lot of women in here who have mental problems, even though they might not recognize it. Some of the women come here with flat time and they go home. They ask me how did I do my time. I tell them I didn’t take any pill to do this time. I got off the mind medication and I got my thoughts back. Whenever I get out of here, I want to be a clothes designer, a singer, and do lots of charity work. I want to go to college and finish my degree. When I start something, I like to complete it.