Tyrone Jones rode the elevator up to the 28th floor of One Liberty Place, a building that didn’t exist the last time he was a free man, and looked out over a city transformed. “Before I went to prison, Market Street wasn’t this crowded. The sports complex, that wasn’t there,” he said Thursday.
Of the roughly 7 400 people sitting in Philadelphia s jails right now more than half of them aren t there because they ve been found guilty of a crime They ve been accused of one and are waiting for
By her estimate, Stacey Wilson has spent more than a week of her life traveling to and from prisons to visit her son Derron, who is serving 7-and-a-half to 15 years for attempted murder. He formerly was imprisoned at Graterford and Camp Hill, and she visited as often as twice a week.
A man who spent 25 years in prison for a rape and murder that a jury concluded he didn’t commit, Anthony Wright was emotional and tearful, elated and optimistic. Bitter, he was not. “I worship a merciful God and he forgives,” Wright, 44, said at a news conference Wednesday, a day after he was acquitted at retrial in the 1991 death of a 77-year-old Nicetown woman.
At 44, Matthew Slaughter has seen a lot, and not much of it in an academic setting. He grew up in North Philadelphia’s Richard Allen Homes and became a father when he was 14. Arrested before his 20th birthday for a 1990 murder in North Philadelphia, he was sentenced in 1992 to life in prison.
Maybe, in principle, employers might believe in giving someone fresh out of prison a second chance by offering that person a job. But . . . How do they figure out who is actually dangerous? How do they make sense of the tangled government document that is a criminal record?