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Dear , Life without parole for a marijuana conviction. That’s the fate to which Roberto Cruz was condemned in 2005, two years after he was arrested near Birmingham, Alabama, for being a mere passenger in a car that had carried marijuana over the state line from Georgia. Thanks to Alabama’s overly harsh habitual offender law, Cruz’s two prior federal charges – conspiracy to distribute in 1985 and possession of cocaine in 1994 – plus the new charge for trafficking in marijuana were enough to deprive him of any possibility of parole. It would be an absurdly disproportionate sentence even if the facts of the case were not in dispute. But Cruz’s story is even more alarming. The day he was arrested in 2003, Cruz didn’t even know he was going to Alabama – he had dozed off in the passenger seat while still in Atlanta – much less that the car was carrying 25 pounds of marijuana. Osvaldo Reyes, the driver of the car and Cruz’s co-defendant, would have testified to Cruz’s innocence at trial. According to records, Reyes said the marijuana was a pickup that he had made, and that Cruz had no idea. But after taking a plea deal, Reyes was deported to Mexico shortly before Cruz’s trial. A notarized statement from Reyes, in Spanish and English, was declared hearsay and not allowed into evidence. Without Reyes or his statement, the defense’s case rested on Cruz’s testimony – but he was denied a court-appointed interpreter by a judge, who said she had made the determination that Cruz could understand English. Cruz’s attorney argued that his client did not have enough command of the language to understand the criminal proceeding and had a thick accent he worried the jury would not understand. “Ricky Ricardo had a terrible accent, too, but people understood him,” the judge said, according to court transcripts. “If he speaks slowly enough, we don’t have a problem.” Cruz was found guilty. Prosecutors recommended a life-without-parole sentence. And Cruz became one of the hundreds of people serving such a sentence under Alabama’s habitual offender act. For too many of those incarcerated people, the story ends there; they have little hope of release. Cruz, just weeks ago, became an exception. The SPLC had been in touch with Cruz since last September, when an SPLC investigative reporter stumbled across his case while browsing Alabama court records. Our commitment to investigate Cruz’s story took on a new urgency in March, as the COVID-19 pandemic began to pose a serious threat to people in prison, especially those, like Cruz, over 50 years of age (Cruz is 71). On April 29, after weeks of reporting, we contacted the judge responsible for denying Cruz’s previous motion for post-conviction relief in 2013 to ask about the case. Less than 30 minutes later, we heard from the Jefferson County Public Defender’s Office that an attorney had been appointed to represent Cruz in a new proceeding. On May 7, after almost 16 years behind bars, Cruz was officially resentenced to time served by Judge Stephen Wallace. “[T]he constitutional understanding of what penalties are proportionate to the crime charged may evolve over time, as society matures and progresses,” Wallace wrote in his order. “Regardless, this Court can contemplate few occasions where imposing a life without parole sentence for a non-violent marijuana possession or trafficking offense seems reasonable or proportionate.” Cruz has been released and reunited with his family in Georgia. Please read (and share!) the SPLC’s full story on Cruz’s case and his surprising release – and learn about the Alabama laws that condemn people like him to such disproportionate sentences – here. We were elated by the news of Cruz’s release – but the work is unfinished. Thousands of others, including many victims of Alabama’s senseless and draconian war on marijuana, are still condemned to prison on grossly inflated sentences. We will continue to seek justice on their behalf – and we couldn’t do it without supporters like you. Thank you. Erik Olvera |
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