ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, August 14, 1994                   TAG: 9408150059
SECTION: VIRGINIA                    PAGE: A-1   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: By FRANK GREEN RICHMOND TIMES-DISPATCH
DATELINE: RICHMOND                                LENGTH: Long


CAUGHT IN PAROLE REFORM'S TIDE

For three weeks, Crystal Bradford has been on a roller-coaster ride powered by rapid changes in Virginia's prison and parole system.

She is an unusual inmate. What has happened to her is unusual, too.

Among other things, she lost a spot on work release that had permitted her outside prison gates each work day. Of nearly 20,000 state prisoners, only 139 men and 11 women are now deemed worthy of the status.

But when even the best-behaved of Virginia prisoners encounter the recent turmoil Bradford has, inmates with less-promising records may face even taller hurdles with more serious change on the horizon.

Bradford's fortunes plummeted last month as the parole rate fell to between 5 percent and 6 percent, by far the lowest rate in years. Her bid for freedom was rejected along with hundreds of others, and, as a result, she was yanked off work release.

Next month, the state may end parole entirely for new inmates, under plans initiated by Gov. George Allen.

``I'm not crying 'victim.' I know why I'm here,'' she said last week at the Goochland Correctional Center for Women. ``Unfortunately, I brought myself into a system where I'm a risk factor and I'm no longer an individual.''

She fears the emotional hammering she has suffered in recent weeks ``is just a taste, I think, of what's to come for others.''

``There's parts of me that want to stand up and stomp my feet and scream and holler: `Hey, listen. I'm human and you're just taking everything I've worked for away.'''

Bradford understands the current public climate.

``I just want to be given back the opportunity to have a life. I feel I've earned it,'' she said.

Bradford is a mother, college graduate, Navy veteran and successful tutor who now must be treated by the state for her recently diagnosed multiple sclerosis.

Though a second-time offender, her offenses were nonviolent, ``paper'' crimes. She has good work habits, marketable skills and a stellar prison behavior record, according to prison officials.

She is the sort of inmate Allen said he wants put to work or placed in less expensive settings than prison, where they either will be less of a burden to taxpayers or be in jobs earning money and paying taxes.

For almost six months, that's exactly what Bradford was doing.

On work release, she won a promotion at a West End nursery, where she worked and also was able to help plan the establishment of a ``Secret Garden'' at the Short Pump Elementary School - where Allen's daughter, Tyler, is a student.

``I've done everything here that I can: programs, work, education, community service, rehabilitation and recovery. It's time now to take that outside, to start my life again and not be a liability to the state.''

Just last year, when the parole grant rate averaged 40 percent, Bradford would have been a good bet for parole. On July 25, however, a new, more conservative parole board intent on preventing crimes by parolees refused to release her.

She was told in a letter the turndown was because ``to release you at this present time would only diminish the seriousness of your crime and promote disrespect for the law.''

Bradford, 33, is a recovering alcoholic. She was convicted in 1989 of embezzlement and served a year. Then, not long after her release, she was arrested again, in Fredericksburg, for forgery and credit card fraud, and was sentenced to 18 years.

Because of the alcohol abuse, ``my life was out of control,'' she said. During her second term at the Goochland Correctional Center, she found a new career: horticulture.

``I did 6,000 hours of work and study,'' she said, and was put in charge of the prison's greenhouse. Then, she was able to earn a spot on work release - working at Jolly Greenhouse in Henrico County.

On Aug. 5, she was told by the Department of Corrections that she was being taken off the work release program and could no longer work outside prison walls.

Counting her most recent rejection, Bradford has been turned down three times for parole. Her mandatory parole release date is not until 1998.

``I could explain my [parole] turndown to my son by telling him Governor Allen's like a new, strict principal, he's going to make rules different and a little bit harder,'' she said.

She said her son, who is 12, ``took that all right. But when I told him I'd been taken away from my job and placed back here ... and I may not come out until next year, he just couldn't understand.''

``He said, `Mommy, you didn't kill anybody,' and he's right.''

She said that, ultimately, her predicament is one of her own creation.

``It doesn't [depend] on Governor Allen, nor the Parole Board ... the Department of Corrections? They're just my keeper, I'm their ward.''

Added Bradford: ``I'm just disheartened because now, instead of progressing, I'm regressing.

``Here, I can go back to tutoring at the [prison] greenhouse, but it seems like I'm just moving backwards, the leash has been shortened. It's not only frustrating, but it's a sign of the times.''

She said that ``out there, I was starting to pay taxes instead of using taxes.''

Her departure from work release also left her employer, Amir Pishdad, owner of the Jolly Greenhouse, upset.

``If an employer like me is going to take a chance on these people, they have to meet us half way. The employees have to be dependable. They can't be jerked away with no notice,'' complained Pishdad, a retired former photographer with Richmond Newspapers Inc.

Pishdad said his main concern was that ``the governor is over there [complaining] about prisoners taking tax dollars and here's one woman who wants to pay taxes and they won't let her.''

Gene Johnson, a deputy director for the department, said that, traditionally, inmates with suitable records are placed on work release six months before their parole eligibility date.

The program helps prepare them for transition into society. ``It shouldn't be a long-term situation,'' he said. When parole is denied an inmate with a far-off mandatory release date - like Bradford - the inmate is taken off parole and re-evaluated.

Johnson said that, with a lower parole rate, presumably more inmates are being sent back to the original prisons and taken off work release, but that he had no numbers available one way or the other.

On Wednesday, a day after she was interviewed by the Richmond Times-Dispatch, and just a few hours after Johnson was, the department decided to put Bradford back on work release.

Bradford is due for her annual parole hearing in October.



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