PRISONERS' RELATIVES ASSESS PATAKI'S DRUG LAW REFORM PLAN

The good news rippled down the aisle of the bus as it headed along
the highway from Albany to New York City on January 3. Drug
prisoners' relatives had boarded the bus outside the state capitol,
where they had spent the day rallying against New York's strict drug
laws. Now everyone was talking about governor George Pataki's state
of the state speech and his promise to reform New York's so-called
Rockefeller drug laws. The activists, it seemed, would soon have
something to celebrate. Over the last three years, these mothers,
fathers, brothers, sisters, and children of drug prisoners have built
a small but scrappy movement.

They have held vigils at City Hall, Rockefeller Center, and the State
Capitol. They have chanted, "Too much time for nonviolent crime!"
outside Pataki fundraisers and the Manhattan office of Assembly
Speaker Sheldon Silver. And along the way, they have shared their
stories with every reporter who will listen.

These prisoners' relatives have been pushing legislators to repeal
the state's drug laws and restore judicial discretion, so that judges
can decide drug offenders' punishment. New York's drug laws, signed
by Governor Nelson Rockefeller in 1973 and known as the Rockefeller
drug laws, set up mandatory prison sentences.

The top-level felony, known as a "Class A-1" drug offense, involves
selling two or more ounces or possessing four or more ounces of a
narcotic like heroin or cocaine.

Anyone convicted of an A-1 drug offense receives a mandatory prison
sentence of at least 15-years-to-life. Drug offenders convicted of
carrying or selling lesser amounts receive shorter mandatory
sentences.

"My kids have been locked up for 10 years.

I wonder if I'm going to be alive to see them hit the streets."

Almost everyone accused of an A-1 drug felony-as well as almost
everyone charged with a lower-level drug crime-tries to avoid a trial
and a lengthy mandatory prison term by pleading guilty in exchange
for a reduced sentence.

While there are more than 21,000 drug prisoners in New York State,
there are only 618 Class A-1 drug offenders.

Nevertheless, Rockefeller drug law critics have sought to sway public
opinion by focusing media attention on these A-1 cases, since they
are the most sympathetic. Nearly all of the family members who
regularly appear at drug law vigils have relatives who are A-1 drug
felons.

Judging from Pataki's plan to reform the Rockefeller drug laws, the
governor appears to have heard their stories.

His 10-part proposal includes shrinking the mandatory sentences for
first-time A-1 drug felons from 15-years-to-life to 10-years-to-life.
He has proposed giving judges more leeway to steer some low-level
drug offenders to treatment instead of prison.

And he has included a retroactivity plan that would permit current
A-1 drug prisoners to appeal for early release.

When they heard this part of Pataki's plan, many prisoners'
relatives-turned-activists cheered.

Such a proposal, if passed by the legislature, could shave a few
years off their loved ones' prison sentences, reducing them to
10-years-to-life or eight-and-one-third-years-to-life, depending on
their prior record.

According to prison officials, 506 of the state's 618 A-1 drug
offenders would be eligible for a reduced sentence.

But not everyone is pleased.

By addressing the concerns of the Rockefeller drug prisoners with the
longest sentences, Pataki's plan would strip Rockefeller drug law
critics of their most powerful weapon: the stories of first-time
offenders serving at least 15 years in prison. "It's a terrible
bill," says Randy Credico, who organizes protests for drug prisoners'
relatives as head of the William Moses Kunstler Fund for Racial
Justice. "It is not reform.

It takes care of a few people, but 20,000 people will be left hanging.

It's not fair if you only deal with A-1 felons.

You have to deal with all the other categories."

When Mary Mortimore, a rally regular, heard the details of Pataki's
proposed reform, she too was unhappy. "It's not going to benefit my
children at all, so I'm depressed about that," says Mortimore, 54,
who has two sons in prison serving time for B-level drug felonies,
which would not be covered by Pataki's proposed retroactivity plan.
One is serving an 11-to-23-year sentence, while the other is doing
15-to-30 years. "My kids have been locked up for 10 years," Mortimore
says, "I wonder if I'm going to be alive to see them hit the streets."

If the state legislature does pass a drug law reform bill, there is
no guarantee that it will resemble Pataki's proposal.

Nonetheless, Credico is already scrambling to ensure that his group
does not lose momentum. "I'm going to start breaking out the B
felonies-people doing eight-and-one-third to 25 years.

It's the second wave. Those families would be so angry if the A-1's
got some relief and they didn't. It would bring out fresh troops."