CONVICT'S HOPES HIGH FOR RELEASE

John Wigglesworth's hopes for early release from prison soared when a state
board recommended in 1995 that his life sentence on drug charges be reduced
to eight years.

His hopes were dashed two months later when then-Gov. Fife Symington
decided that he deserved life. Instead of a potential release date of Dec.
8, 2001, Wigglesworth was looking at jail with no parole until 2018. He was
not alone.

Wigglesworth was one of an estimated 2,000 inmates who applied to the board
for clemency. The panel had been established by lawmakers to review
sentences under the state's mandatory sentencing law.

The board unanimously recommended reductions for 195 inmates. But Symington
decided that only 16 of the requests for clemency had merit. He rejected
the rest, shutting the door on prisoners deemed to have been unjustly treated.

At least one member of the board called Symington's action shameful.

Now, Wigglesworth, 36, is allowing himself to dream again of the day he may
be free, after a court ruled last week that Symington bungled the paperwork
to keep inmates like him in prison.

"I'm elated, what more can I say. If everything goes OK, I'll be going home
to my family soon," he said. And what of Symington?

"I wasn't mad at the governor for doing what he thought he had to do,"
Wigglesworth said, although he admitted being surprised that the governor
rejected so many requests.

And he also allows that the governor's tough stand has taken its toll on him.

"It's not hard for negativity to enter your life in here," he said of his
time in prison. "But my outlook is not harsh anyway."

Wigglesworth's new hope is based on the case of Kevin McDonald, whose
request for clemency was also rejected by Symington. The Arizona Supreme
Court found last week that Symington's signature on the denial document in
the McDonald case was not attested to by the secretary of state and the
signature is illegible. The court ordered McDonald released.

Symington has defended his decision, saying in a statement:

"Any unsuccessful petition was regretfully denied because granting it would
have increased the risk of further victimization of innocent people."

The Arizona Attorney General's Office is currently reviewing the files of
the other inmates whose requests were rejected by Symington. A spokesman
said the office would not oppose the release of inmates under circumstances
similar to those of McDonald, who also was serving a life sentence.

Wigglesworth said his greatest pain has been not seeing his three teenage
children and other family members for the last five years. "People move
on," he said. "So that's some indication that you're just kind of stuck."

Wigglesworth knew there was a chance he would go to prison for life on drug
charges as he stood in Pima County Superior Court in 1994, but he still
wasn't prepared when a judge gave him the sentence.

"You don't expect to lose your life unless you take a life," Wigglesworth
said from Arizona State Prison in Douglas.

He compared the experience of hearing "life" to losing a loved one. He was
convicted of money laundering and possessing 18 grams of crack cocaine and
224 grams of powdered cocaine for sale. Under the sentencing laws at the
time, the trial judge was obligated to put Wigglesworth away for 25 years
to life for each count because he was on parole at the time of his arrest,
so he gave him three concurrent sentences, said Wigglesworth's appeals
attorney, Michael Burke.

"The trial judge said at the time he felt it was a hardship, but the state
left him no options," Burke said.

That same year, the law changed to allow the Executive Board of Clemency to
recommend reductions to the governor for prisoners whose sentences were
deemed unduly harsh.

"A very conservative Arizona Legislature passed this law in 1994 to bring
some justice to some sentences that were far out of line," said Phoenix
defense attorney Larry Hammond, who works with the Justice Project, a
4-year-old nonprofit group that helps inmates who are victims of clear and
unmistakable injustice.

When he gets out, Wigglesworth said he plans "to do some catching up" with
his children, who are 13, 15 and 19 years old, talk endlessly with his
mother and apply for barber school to get a license for a skill he learned
in prison. "I've been cutting hair for what seems like forever," he said.
"It's kind of what I'm known for in here."