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Alabama man served 29 years for stealing toolbox
But
Combined with seven previous
felony convictions, the robbery was enough to earn him a life sentence with no
possibility of parole. Changes to the state's Habitual Offender Act in 2000
cleared the way for Holley to be released two months ago because his previous
convictions were not for violent crimes.
It was a Sunday morning when
Holley, now 62, made the worst mistake he'd ever made.
He was walking past the parking
lot of
The sound of the breaking truck
window disrupted services. Seconds later, members of the congregation were
outside, demanding he return the toolbox.
Holley pulled a pocketknife and
said he would use it against anyone who came near, dropped the toolbox and ran.
A few days later, police took
him into custody, where he remained until two months ago.
Holley was not a model citizen
during his 20s and early 30s.
He admits that and says he is
sorry for it.
He already served time from
shoplifting and receiving stolen property convictions -- he once stole a pork
chop from a grocery store, a record from a music store and space heaters from
another business. None of his seven previous convictions involved violence.
"It was never anything
big-time," Holley said.
He became the first person in
"There is no way in the world
someone would get that kind of sentence today. This was an absolute miscarriage
of justice," said criminal defense attorney Joel Sogol, who represented Holley
in the toolbox case. "It wouldn't even go to trial today. A sentence now would
be 10, 15 years maybe or even a community corrections program."
Sogol appealed the case, and
said he recruited two of the best appellate lawyers in the state to help. They
wrote briefs and even asked for the United States Supreme Court to hear the
case.
"We did everything we could.
Nobody would look at it. Something like this that is so egregious, you just
can't put out of your mind," he said.
Eventually, judges and
prosecutors realized that if everyone was sentenced as the law was written, the
state would spend all tax money to house prisoners, he said.
"There was some sense that you
couldn't go around the law, this is what the law said, this is what you had to
do," he said. "I think that to a certain extent, prosecutors were trying to flex
their muscles, showing what they could do."
In 2000, the Association of
County Commissions of
Bruce Maddox, the assistant
district attorney who prosecuted Holley, wrote in a 2005 affidavit that he
supported Holley's release.
"I was acting as a knee-jerk
prosecutor without the benefit of enough experience to know that law cannot be a
one size fits all' process," he wrote, according to a story that appeared in the
Mobile Press-Register. Maddox, now a criminal defense attorney in
In 1994, Holley said, about 60
guards at the Atmore Correctional Facility signed a petition in support of his
release, noting he had changed and was unlikely to commit more crimes.
Even Baylock Sledge, the owner
of the toolbox, wrote letters that the sentence was too harsh.
"Until the day he died, Mr.
Sledge protested that sentence. He thought it was grossly unfair from day one,"
Sogol said.
Holley said it wasn't easy to
receive such a damning sentence.
He feels like he was unfairly
treated by overzealous prosecutors.
He embraced Christianity during
the first few months he was in jail, which he said helped him accept it.
"I didn't bother me like it
would bother a lot of people -- people who come into prison and steal or kill
and just lose it because they feel like their life has been taken from them," he
said. "God gave me a peace that I'd never had. That's the main thing that got me
through. That's the only thing."
Over the years, he saw people
who had committed similar or more serious crimes come and go. People convicted
of murder, rape, assault who were sentenced to fewer years and were eligible for
release.
"They'd make parole and go
straight to the streets," he said.
Since his release in March,
Holley has been living with his sister on a quiet, oak tree-lined street in
He has reveled in the simple
pleasures of his freedom. He takes walks every morning and enjoys the newness of
everything he was isolated from for so long.
"In prison, you see the same
old folks over and over. I see new faces every day. Everything looks alive and
bright, not like the dull prison walls," he said. "Everything is different. I
can just get out, hit that road and go."
He's making plans to speak at
churches and assist prison and jail ministries, hoping to encourage young people
to avoid lives of crime.
"A lot of free-world people
used to say that I have a reason to be bitter, but I have to forgive," he said. |
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