April 22, 2010 - Nanny Kris

Nanny Kris

Sarah, it's occurred to me that I mention my friend and co-worker Kris all the time, but you don't know her story. Do you remember her from 4H several years ago? She has no children, but she came to the Saturday visit/meetings as a helper before the administration changed the policy to disallow 4h helpers. You and Carrie called her "Nanny Kris", and Carrie offered to let her live in their basement when she paroles because the kids adore her. Kris, who's a big kid herself, always jumped down on the floor and played like one of them.

Kris is in her late 20's, gorgeous, tall, and thin, with waist length straight dark blonde hair— usually pulled back in a ponytail. She's got a Nordic surfer girl physicality, if there could be such a creature. Lithe but strong. In her free life she worked for a veterinarian's assistant, which was perfect for a gal who adores all animals and isn't afraid to get messy. She also comes from a dysfunctional broken home with a sweet mother and dear father who didn't seem to know what to do with a daughter like Kris—plagued with OCD, ADHD and every other initialed psychological issue. Kristin has more issues than a magazine stand.

I was not there, of course, but I believe that Kris was cohabitating with her boyfriend, and the relationship was toxic, abusive. Her head-shaved bully of a boyfriend, a steroid-enhanced body builder, displayed a quick and foul temper. Violent. And I'm sure that stubborn, hardheaded Kris didn't make matters any better by refusing to bend to his every whim.

Yes, Kris should have moved on, hidden away, changed her whole life to stay away from him, but hindsight is 20/20. (Or 180 like I heard on the sidewalk recently. "Hindsight is 180, ya know, Boo.") And we must remember that she thought she loved him and could save him from himself. (If I had a nickel for every deluded woman who thinks that very lie this very day, I could buy this prison and kick everyone out.) Kris was also very young, barely out of her teens, which equals inexperienced. Sometimes it takes some years and mileage on our tachometer before we realize that a bad apple is just a bad apple.

During a domestic dispute that escalated into an argument that turned into a fight that grew into a beating, Kris grabbed what we call back home "an equalizer" (a Louisville Slugger) and slammed the aggressive and scary body builder beau in the head with such force that not only did she stop the beating, he unfortunately died. The story could have gone the other way. He could easily have won the fight, and I would know nothing of Kristin.

Because Kris didn't have a hospital history of abuse with photos and corroborating testimony and money for expert legal representation, her lawyer suggested that she take a deal. If she held out for a trial, the jury could easily decide to give her Life with No Parole. After rotting in the infamous Hellhole called the St. Louis Work House for two torturous years, she copped a plea for 25 years, second degree murder, with a mandatory minimum of 85% before she's eligible for parole. To do the math for you, she must serve 21 years and three months before she can even be considered for parole.

She'll serve over two decades in prison because she survived. But I have got to hand it to Kris, who has served around nine long years so far. She looks for the humor in most any situation. No one is sillier than my friend—or as quick witted. She stays busy with meaningful endeavors and is much loved by her family and admired by inmates and staff alike. In December she brilliantly played the athletic Scarecrow in our production of "The Wizard of Oz". Her parents came to the visiting room show, separately, of course. They were the biggest ducks in the puddle and enjoyed their daughter's evident preparation and characterization so much that it was infectious. Her daddy laughed so big that he became part of the show! I had trouble staying in character as the disgruntled Wicked Witch of the West.

Also Kris is not one of these prisoners who exhibits no remorse for the horror of taking a life. This burden and the cloud of guilt will forever hang over her head. But she's worked to the point where she refuses to let the mistakes of the past kill her, too.

I pray that the 85% mandatory minimum law that was passed in 1994 will be rescinded. It's not only glutting the expensive prison system, but it's not a fair and just law for victims who survived like Kristin—who deserve a chance at a good life outside these razor wire fences before she's too old to find a good life.

When I was first locked up in 1986, prisoners who acted halfway decently served around 10-12 years on a life sentence—now it's near 30. The ones serving a number of years, like 25, served one-third of the years. I knew a young girl, exactly Jane's age (16 when we met with the very same birthday) who served 8.5 years on her 25 for second degree murder. She had been sitting unawares in the car while her boyfriend killed former employers. Sherry knew nothing of the murders until he jumped back in the driver's seat, sped off, and bragged to her of what he'd done. He threatened her life if she didn't keep her mouth shut. She believed him—after all, he'd just killed a family. Of course the truth eventually came out (he couldn't help but boast), and naïve teeny-bopper Sherry was considered an accessory after the fact.

If this same case had happened after August 28, 1994, Sherry would still be locked up and serving the same lengthy amount of time as Kris. Back in the 80's we thought that 8.5 years was too much time for poor Sherry to have to serve. Boy, have times changed. Vengeance is no longer mine, sayeth the Lord.