YEARS TO DIE

At age 74, Alva Mae Groves was sent to federal prison for conspiracy
to possess crack cocaine and helping trade crack for food stamps. She
pleaded guilty, but maintained that her prosecution was more about
not informing on her sons and daughters (some of whom went to prison
in the same case) than about the limited involvement of an elderly
woman in selling drugs. Still, Groves received 24 years, a sentence
more suited to a drug kingpin than a grandmother who didn't contest
the charges.

The sentence was mandated by a federal law meant to collar kingpins.
Once imposed, it was unlikely that Groves would leave prison. She
didn't. The Johnston County woman died in a prison hospital in Texas
last month. Groves' death far from family is one reason among several
why Congress should revisit the mandatory minimum sentence laws it
passed in the 1980s. At the time, the scourge of crack and related
crime was at its height. Crack is still a nasty drug, but it has
faded in importance in the intervening years, displaced by crystal meth.

Yet the mandatory minimum laws for crack offenses remain. In many
cases, major pushers have moved to other drugs, while low-level,
non-violent criminals go to prison with long sentences. The laws
treat hard-core dealers still in the crack trade the same way they
treat street-level runners. Mandated sentences severely limit a
judge's ability to consider the facts of a case. They give
prosecutors power to intimidate defendants who may be in trouble for
the first time. The cost of jailing low-level convicts for long
stretches strains Americans' pocketbooks.

Groves' sentence destined her to die a prisoner. Her family appealed
widely for her release last year. Prison authorities turned them
down, the letter reaching Groves on her deathbed. It seems grossly
harsh for a non-violent criminal judged to be terminally ill to be
refused a better death. Groves' sad end should spur Congress to take
up legislation that restores balance in federal drug sentencing.