FREE CLARENCE AARON

Nine years ago today, Clarence Aaron was sentenced to three life sentences
without parole.

Is he a traitor? A serial killer? A terrorist? No. Aaron is a 33-year-old
nonviolent first-time drug offender who 10 years ago hooked together two
drug dealers and was paid $1,500.

The punishment does not fit the crime. At the time of the deal, Aaron was a
senior at Southern University in Baton Rouge, La., and having trouble
paying for school. Unlike his co-defendants, Aaron had no criminal record,
no known drug history, no history of violence. Unlike the drug dealers,
Aaron had worked steadily from adolescence to pay for his education and
help support his family.

Yes, Aaron broke the law.

For his crime, Aaron admitted by phone from the federal pen in Atlanta, he
deserved to serve time, maybe five to 10 years. But life without parole?

Don't credit tough drug laws -- not when all but one of the six other
people involved in the two drug rings were let out of prison. And these are
men with records or known to have been bigger players in the trade.

Marion Teano Watts -- one of the two dealers -- testified that he was "a
major crack cocaine distributor in the Mobile area" and had made "over a
million dollars." Watts served seven years and 10 months behind bars. He
has been free since early 2000.

The other dealer, Gary Chisholm, according to court documents, threatened
to "skin" the sister of a drug ring member. Chisholm also was charged in a
different case for dealing 15 kilograms of cocaine. His sentence was
reduced to 24 years.

So why is Aaron the only defendant now facing a life sentence? Aaron's
Boston attorney, Gregg Shapiro, credits "sentence inversion," a phenomenon
described by the Seventh Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals: "Bold dealers may
turn on their former comrades . . . Drones of the organization -- the
runners, mules, drivers and lookouts -- have nothing comparable to offer"
to prosecutors anxious to cut time in exchange for information.

Aaron made a second mistake: He failed to plead guilty. Apparently, not
pleading guilty and not snitching is a bigger crime -- or at least rates a
bigger penalty -- than being a drug kingpin.

When I asked if he thought he would have received the same sentence if he
were white, Aaron answered, "I hate to put a black and white thing on it. I
see it every day here. I look around and see the young blacks that come
into these walls . . . I don't see too many young white kids coming into
the penitentiary."

Aaron has a stellar prison record. In 2000, the Atlanta warden petitioned
unsuccessfully to move Aaron to a less secure facility. The warden noted
Aaron's clean disciplinary record. Prison officials consistently have rated
his work as a personnel clerk as "outstanding."

Aaron has only one hope -- President Bush -- who can and should commute his
sentence to time served.

The bad news is that Bush has yet to exercise his pardon powers. The good
news is that this Christmas season would be a good time to start.

"By this time, in their terms, every president in recent history except for
Bill Clinton had already granted a number of pardons," noted Margaret Love,
who was pardon attorney for Bush pere. "It's better to begin pardoning
early, because if you wait until the end of your term, like Bill Clinton
did, it will only get you into trouble."

A Justice Department official tells me Aaron's pardon application is
"pending." For his part, Aaron won't let himself believe that he'll never
get out, that in America he would have to give up liberty for the rest of
his life for one stupid, nonviolent criminal act.

Now, only one act of compassion by George W. Bush can save him.