BILL WOULD REDUCE INMATES' PHONE FEES

Required Collect Calls Are Burden for Families

OLYMPIA -- For the past six years, every time Caron Berrysmith's son
called her for 20 minutes, it cost nearly $20.

Here's why: He's a state prison inmate.

Under state law, prisoners in Washington can only call collect. It's a
lucrative deal for both phone companies and the state, which gets back
about 40 percent of the phone charges. But at a time when it's easy
for consumers to find long-distance phone service at a nickel or less
per minute, prisoners' friends and families are paying up to $5.31 for
the first minute and 89 cents a minute after that.

"That's insane," said Tom Murlowski, with the Colville-based November
Coalition, a prisoner-advocacy group. "Essentially, these companies
are gouging prisoners and their families."

Even the state Department of Corrections, which signs the contracts,
says the phone rates are too expensive.

"It's very high, compared to what you and I pay," deputy Secretary of
Corrections Eldon Vail said Tuesday. "It's a lot."

Now, as a five-year contract with AT&T comes to an end, the department
and state lawmakers say it's time to find a cheaper way for inmates to
stay in touch with their families and friends.

Senate Bill 6352 would erase the requirement for collect calls. Modern
phone technology can provide the same security, phone companies say,
and at a much lower cost. The bill would allow prisoners to use
prepaid phone cards or a debit system funded by their families or
their wages doing prison work. The current security rules -- all calls
are recorded, can be monitored, and must carry an announcement that
it's a call from a prisoner -- would remain the same.

Family members of prisoners say such a change is long
overdue.

"The price is really prohibitive," said Zady Evans, a Seattle minister
whose 34-year-old grandson is imprisoned on drug charges at Aberdeen.
The cost now, she said, ensures that prisoners' struggling families
remain poor.

"They (inmates) call their families and it costs the families, but
they want to talk to their children," she said.

Berrysmith knows that dilemma firsthand. Her son is serving 20 years
for bank robbery, and at 63, she's living in Seattle on less than $600
a month from Social Security. Her son's occasional calls from the
state penitentiary at Walla Walla sometimes left her struggling to
keep up with her bills. Her usual strategy: Pay only part of the power
bill.

"Sometimes you just want to hear somebody's voice," she said. "We just
try to tell each other to stay strong."

This winter, her son was transferred to Monroe, close to Seattle. It's
now about $10 per call, she said.

"It's still too much," she said, "but it's less."

In 2001, the state made nearly $5 million from inmate phone calls. One
quarter of that money goes to a fund for crime victims. The rest is
spent on inmate extras like TVs, law librarians, ice machines, gym
equipment, books, sewing machines, holiday treats, music and
children's toys for prison visiting rooms. In years past, Vail said
Tuesday, taxpayers ended up footing the bill for such things.

For the last two years, prison phone fees have dropped sharply,
shrinking the state's share to $3.3 million last year. Vail said the
department isn't sure why, although it suspects that some inmate
families are using phone companies that bypass the direct collect call
system by forwarding the call through a local phone number near the
prison.

Lobbyists for several phone companies, including AT&T, Qwest and MCI,
testified in favor of the bill Tuesday. What would really reduce the
cost for inmates' friends and families, one lobbyist pointed out, is
if the state would reduce or eliminate its 40 percent cut of the fees.
Vail said the state is willing to reduce it.

Some friends and relatives of prisoners also argue that it's smart for
the state to make it easier for inmates to stay in touch. Eventually,
they say, most will get out of prison, and those with strong support
stand the best chance of success.

"The prison world is a different world. They live within this system
for year after year, and then they're booted outside. They have to
have that contact," said Evans.