A FAMILY IN NEED OF AN EXCEPTION

One man's family.

It would help, his big sister Judy told me, if Dewayne could return home.

Danielle, after all, is his daughter. And Judy said that Dewayne would like
to be at Danielle's bedside in the hospital, where she has been since the
accident a week ago last Wednesday, unconscious and on life support.

Judy talked to Dewayne on the phone Thursday night, told him Danielle's
condition hadn't changed. He blamed himself: "She wouldn't be there if it
weren't for my past choices."

It isn't possible for him to know that. Even if Dewayne had been at home,
his 14-year-old daughter still might have been in that car with the boy who
decided to drag race, lost control, hit a tree.

What Dewayne could say with more certainty is that he wouldn't be where he
is today if it weren't for his past choices. Possession of cocaine in 1994
got him three years' probation. A DWI charge in 1996 got him five years'
probation.

In October 1999, Judy said, the judge responded to another DWI offense by
revoking Dewayne's probation. With the time he already had spent in jail,
and since he was a well-behaved prison inmate, he is set to be released next
July and could be paroled as early as February.

One tragedy spawns another

What Judy was hoping, when she first told me her family's story, was that
since Dewayne already is in a pre-release facility, it might be possible for
him to be paroled earlier.

His daughter isn't the only reason he is needed at home. His parents need
someone to help them, too. Before the accident, Danielle was the one who
took out the trash, picked up the mail, reached items on the higher shelves
and did all such chores.

Since she was 2 months old, Danielle has lived most of the time with her
grandparents in the 150-year-old farmhouse not far from Dallas. They were
hoping to continue together as a family for at least four more years, until
she got out of high school.

Harper, Judy's father, will be 93 in a couple of months. He has partial
sight in one eye and none in the other. He can go a few steps without
support, a few more with a walker, but beyond that he needs a wheelchair and
someone pushing.

Lottie, Judy's mother, soon will be 79. She is more frail than Harper and
totally dependent on a wheelchair for mobility. A stroke a few weeks ago
left her vision severely impaired. She has difficulty writing her name,
dialing a phone and reading anything but large dark print.

Judy can't provide the day-to-day help they need. She lives in the Houston
area. She has a teen-age daughter of her own to care for, a job, a husband,
and she is beginning to experience some evidence of post-polio syndrome,
though not as severely as her other brother.

Wanting to make amends

Dan is a couple of years older than Judy. It was 1952, the year he was 4 and
she was 2, that they both had polio. He spent a long time in an iron lung
and underwent several surgeries in childhood before he could walk. He uses a
special cane, but falls more and more frequently because of post-polio
syndrome. He soon will need a wheelchair. Judy had a less serious bout with
polio but couldn't walk for a year.

A college professor now, Dan also lives hours away from Dallas and is unable
to provide his parents with the help and attention they need.

Judy talked to an attorney who said he will do what he can to expedite
Dewayne's parole, but he said Texas doesn't let anyone out of prison early
because of family problems. He said it sometimes is done in some other
states and in the federal system, but not here.

Judy said she has learned that a Texas inmate may be granted a single,
one-day furlough for certain family emergencies, provided the family pays
for guards to accompany the inmate. But she said the family hasn't decided
if they should try to arrange that furlough now, or wait until there is a
change in Danielle's condition.

When he finally does get out, Dewayne assured Judy, he will do whatever he
can to take care of things. He apologized for his past, asked for another
chance.

"The family doesn't have to believe me, but I have changed," he said. "I
felt like a bolt came from God that has given me strength to face this."

Thom Marshall's e-mail address is thom.marshall@chron.com