The Real Cost of Prisons Weblog

With the help of a $700,000 federal grant, the board and several other state agencies are trying to provide temporary housing for so-called "residence-problem inmates."

"There's two primary ingredients that you've got to have for parole success," said parole board Chairman Milton E. "Buddy" Nix Jr. "You've got to have a place to live, and you've got to have a job."

So far, 17 inmates have been released under the program since April, staying in housing provided largely by faith-based organizations in Atlanta, Macon, Savannah and Winder. The organizations are paid $600 per month to house the parolees. The temporary, transitional housing helps inmates ease back into mainstream society.

Georgia law states that inmates should not be granted early release unless the parole board finds "reasonable probability that ... [the inmate] will live and conduct himself as a respectable and law-abiding person and that his release will be compatible with his own welfare and the welfare of society."

Scheree Lipscomb, spokeswoman for the parole board, said, "If you release someone with no place to live, no social support whatsoever, what are their chances of being successful in society?" Transitional housing is relatively scarce throughout the state, and most programs charge parolees to recoup room and board costs.

Sara Totonchi, public policy director for the Southern Center for Human Rights in Atlanta, a group that advocates for inmates, said the state should focus more money and effort on helping inmates succeed outside of prison. "It's fiscally irresponsible to pour money into locking people up beyond the time that the parole board has deemed appropriate," Totonchi said. "The more we spend limited taxpayer dollars inside prisons, the less resources we will have in the community that can help formerly incarcerated people successfully re-enter society and keep them from going back to prison."

Parole officials agree that more focus needs to be placed on moving inmates successfully from prison back into society, but they say they need more funding to make it happen.

Sanders, 33, said he's encouraged by the prospect of getting state help and he's ready to put his drug and alcohol problems behind him and start anew. "I'm working with the counselors here to find a place," he said. Sanders said both of his parents are dead, and his two brothers are also doing time in the Georgia prison system. One of his uncles recently died, and another uncle isn't able to help him. "There's really nobody out there," he said.

Sex offenders and inmates with moderate to severe mental problems ‹ roughly half of those unable to find a residence ‹ are not eligible for the program, officials said.

Officials say 95 percent of prison inmates eventually return to the streets. Those left behind are either on death row or have life without parole. Inmates typically are released on parole into the homes of either their parents, boyfriends or girlfriends, spouses, or other relatives, officials said. Others occasionally go into halfway houses, substance abuse recovery programs, social service agencies or similar venues.

But many have been shunned by frustrated family and friends. Officials say others try to return to the same law-breaking crowd they hung out with prior to prison. If parole officials suspect the proposed residence provided by the inmate could lead to trouble, release from prison is denied.

Jesse Lee Spears spent 14 years in prison beyond his parole date, trying to find a place to live. In April, he was released to a shelter in Savannah. The 62-year-old man has a rap sheet dating back to 1962 that includes burglary and auto theft. He drew a 20-year sentence in 1991 for burglary in Cobb County for stealing his sister's 19-inch TV and selling it for $25. His prior convictions were a factor in the sentence length. He became eligible for parole in April 1992.

By the time he went to prison in 1991, Spears' father had died and his mother lived in a nursing home. When he was eligible for parole, a female relative's one-bedroom apartment in Smyrna was deemed too small. Several social service agencies declined to take him in.

Spears, who cannot read or write, sent several letters to the parole board written by fellow inmates, asking for their help. A June 2005 letter reads: "I have been waiting since 1992 to get paroled out. I am tired of being locked up."

"It wasn't funny, I know that," Spears said from the Inner City Night Shelter in Savannah, where he's now staying. Spears said the shelter is "fine," adding: "It's better than where I came from."

http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/stories/0516metparole.html