Lifers convicted of murder and sentenced under an out-of-date statute are forgotten
Rehabilitation and the California Model are declared mission and mandate for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. Such progressive change has become urgently needed in this era of mass incarceration.
However, the highly publicized awakening of the CDCR fails to acknowledge a small cohort of prisoners. These people are abandoned, hidden away, and silenced by the ravages of time. Although sentenced to life, including the possibility of parole, more than 80 of them have already served 50 continuous years, or longer, behind bars, according to CDCR.
Why are they still behind bars?
Some of these prisoners’ arrival in the CDC predate my 1996 entrance into the state’s penal system by more than 30 years. My focus is the old lifers convicted of murder and sentenced under an out-of-date statute that imposed an indeterminate term of seven years to life, or “7 Up.” There are nearly 200 of these prisoners still languishing in the system. Why?
In 1977, Senate Bill 42 was passed. It created the Determinate Sentencing Law, and also modified much of the old Indeterminate Sentencing Law, enacted in 1917. Prior to enactment of SB 42, all prisoners served indeterminate sentences—six months, one year, five years, or seven years to life.
Then came “rehabilitation.” On July 1, 2005, former Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger added the “R” to what was then the California Department of Corrections. At the time, I was imprisoned at California State Prison Solano where I, and others, watched the state’s prison population continue to grow. Three years later, a federal three-judge panel convened to address overcrowding in Plata v. Schwarzenegger.
Since 2005, many of those old lifers continue to wait in vain. But, as CDCR began its change and focus on rehabilitation, the implementation was slow, or nonexistent, depending on where a convict or prisoner was housed. We weren’t “incarcerated persons” or “residents” back then, and the law was codified, unambiguously, to make certain we understood why we were all confined. In fact, the Penal Code read, in relevant part: “The Legislature finds and declares that the purpose of imprisonment for crime is punishment.”
On March 17, 2023, nearly two decades after the “R” was added to CDCR, I was seated in a CalPIA (The Last Mile) classroom next door from where Gov. Gavin Newsom delivered his news that San Quentin would become a “rehabilitation center.” Like many others, I was incredulous but hopelessly optimistic. Not just for myself, but for others, too. At the forefront of my mind were many of those old lifers I’d met more than 25 years earlier.
For the record, this is not a commentary to make a case for freeing prisoners convicted of murder. My eye is on justice. So I keep asking myself, why are they still here? I’m not naive enough to believe everyone in prison convicted of serious or violent crimes should be turned loose on society, especially if they are not rehabilitated. Anyone mindful of the need for public safety probably agrees. To borrow a phrase from President Donald J. Trump—in the context of prison—here, there are “very fine people, on both sides.”
Seven-up lifers are survivors of carceral survival of the fittest. They have fought a hidden war of attrition, through grievances and habeas petitions. In return, they have been met with everything from a barrage of parole denials, to dehumanization, and the arrival of Marcy’s Law in 2008—more than 30 years after SB 42. Moreover, all of them were locked up at least six years before the longest held Death Row prisoner, received by the CDC in 1984. Some 7 Ups entered the penal system as youth offenders and were sent to “gladiator school” at the recently closed Deuel Vocational Institute in Tracy, Calif.
The Sentencing Project published a report this year that states: “The large number of people serving life sentences raises critical questions about moral, financial, and justice related consequences that must be addressed by the nation as well as the states.” The report also shares a growing statistic: “Persons aged 55 and older account for nearly two fifths of people serving life.” The CDCR has more than 10,000 prisoners over the age of 55 serving life, with the possibility of parole, according to the report. Each 7 Up lifer is above the age of 60.
Some years back, I read a 1970s archived issue of San Quentin News. In it, one of the editors wrote words that resonated and still remain with me. In his view, we the imprisoned must champion the cause for each other. As journalists, writers, artists, and jail house lawyers— if we do not advocate for each other, then who will? In the words of John C. Eagan, a longtime adviser and mentor to journalists at San Quentin News: “We report on what’s right with the system, what’s wrong with the prison system, and how to fix it.”
Perhaps Gov. Newsom, the Legislature, parole board commissioners, and prosecutors—who mosey in and out of San Quentin—will at least consider liberating some of the CDCR’s longest held “Convicts” who have been rehabilitated, are no longer a threat to public safety, and are long past their punishment.
Lastly, if we as convicts, inmates, prisoners, incarcerated people, or residents decide to willfully overlook our contemporaries, then maybe we have missed a lesson or two during our own rehabilitative journey that ostensibly teaches insight, empathy, and compassion for others. Don’t forget the 7 Ups, or you too may be forgotten.
