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LIFE FOR ATTEMPTING TO ROB GROCERY STORE WITH TOY GUN SEEKS MERCY

Admin • Mar 12, 2020

Louisiana Woman Sentenced To Life For Attempting To Rob Grocery Store With Toy Gun Seeks Mercy

Gloria Williams turns 74 this month. She has spent nearly 50 birthdays behind bars and is the longest-serving female prisoner in Louisiana.

But on July 22, the Louisiana Board of Pardons and Parole gave her a favorable recommendation for commutation, which would shorten her life without parole sentence. If Governor John Bel Edwards agrees with the recommendation, Williams will become eligible for parole, which may allow her to spend her birthday with her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and siblings. 


Nearly 2.3 million people are incarcerated in the U.S., and clemency is a tool governors can use to provide relief to people who have served long prison sentences. It can also help roll back mass incarceration. Until 2016, Louisiana had the nation’s highest rate of incarceration—Oklahoma now holds that dubious distinction—and since taking office in 2016, Edwards has overhauled the state’s criminal legal system. In June 2017, Edwards signed into law a package of 10 bills intended to reform some of the state’s most punitive laws such as the habitual offender statute. Under one of the bills, mandatory minimum sentences for second and third offenses were shortened and judges were permitted to depart from constitutionally excessive sentences. On July 19, Edwards’s office announced that the state’s prison population fell from 39,867 in 2012 to 32,397 in 2018. 


By 1971, Gloria Williams was a 25-year-old remarried mother of five living in Houston. She had married the first time a decade earlier at age 14. After she and her husband separated, he took custody of their two eldest children and placed them in the care of his father and stepmother. With a fifth-grade education and little money, she struggled to fight her custody case. 


Following an attorney’s advice, she married the man she was dating, W.C. Williams, in order to present a more stable family appearance to the courts. But instead of getting custody of her children, she says W.C. Williams injected her with heroin and physically abused her, including shooting her in the hand and pointing a gun at her children. 


When Williams attempted to leave him, she was kidnapped and beaten by a man she did not know, but she believed acted on her husband’s orders. Williams says the terror did not stop even after her husband was arrested and imprisoned for armed robbery in 1970. She says that through a friend, he told her to find money for an attorney to represent him in his case and warned that if she didn’t follow his orders there would be consequences. 


(The Appeal was unable to locate W.C. Williams for comment. An attorney for Gloria Williams told The Appeal that they are also uncertain of his whereabouts but identified a man matching his description who died in 2004.) 


In February 1971, Williams drove to Louisiana with two other people. They spent a night in Opelousas, a south Louisiana town of approximately 16,000 people, where Williams had previous lived. They decided to rob a grocery store using Williams’ son’s toy gun. But after they entered the store, their plans went awry. The store’s owner, Budge Cutrera, was armed. After a struggle, Williams’s 16-year-old co-defendant shot and killed Cutrera with his own gun. The three were arrested and, nine months later, sentenced in a St. Landry Parish courtroom to life without parole.

During her first three years at the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women (LCIW), Williams refused to accept that she would spend the rest of her life in prison and made three escape attempts. In 1973, Williams made it to Houston, where she was arrested for armed robbery. Williams was then sentenced to eight years in a Texas prison, where she obtained her GED and cosmetology license. In 1982, she was returned to LCIW where she continued to serve her life without parole sentence. In 1985, she attempted to escape from LCIW a fourth time but was apprehended and then placed in solitary confinement for the next 10 years. The use of long-term solitary confinement in Louisiana was widespread in the 1970s and 1980s; Black Panther Albert Woodfox endured a 43-year stretch in solitary that began in 1972.


In 1995, one of the prison’s deputy wardens advocated for her release from solitary. Williams was then returned to the general population, where she became involved with the prison ministry and Big Sisters, a mentoring program pairing newcomers to prison with women who are veterans of the system. She also was a longtime member of the prison’s drama club. 


Despite a sentence that promised death by incarceration, Williams participated in rehabilitative programs such as anger management and a substance use recovery program. 


Williams counseled and mentored younger women, earning her the nickname “Mama Glo.” Her commutation packet includes 43 certificates from 17 programs as well as recommendations from prison administrators, program volunteers, and women she has mentored. “I’ve watched Ms. Gloria help so many young and older troubled woman [sic] from the wisdom she has gained over the years,” wrote one woman who has been incarcerated since the age of 17.


Now, Williams is hoping for a chance to put these skills to use outside the prison walls. 


In his first six months in office, Governor Edwards granted 22 commutations. He put down his commutation pen in 2017, but picked it up again last year. In June 2018, he commuted the sentence of Rob Rich, who served 21 years of a 60-year prison sentence for robbery. In September 2018, Rich walked out of the Louisiana State Penitentiary and reunited with his wife, Fox, and their five children. 


In April, the couple co-founded Participatory Defense Movement-NOLA to train family members with incarcerated loved ones to fight their cases and advocate for criminal legal system reform. When the couple learned that Williams filed a clemency petition, they became interested in helping her. Fox Rich had met Williams briefly while she herself was incarcerated in her husband’s robbery case (the pair were co-defendants). Rich was also moved by the fact that Williams left behind five children whom she might never be able to parent without prison walls between them. “We thought it would be an amazing opportunity to give to another family,” she told The Appeal. Fox and Rob Rich then reached out to the Promise of Justice Initiative, a New Orleans-based criminal justice policy and advocacy nonprofit, which assigned attorney Amanda Zarrow to represent Williams.


In Louisiana, pardon hearings occur in two separate locations. The five-person board meets at the Department of Corrections headquarters in Baton Rouge. Applicants are brought to the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women, which has since been moved to the former Jetson Center for Youth in Baker after its original location was flooded in 2016. At LCIW, applicants appear by video call at the Baton Rouge hearing. 

Thirty members of Williams’s family drove from Texas and Louisiana to support her Board of Pardons and Parole hearing at LCIW on July 22. Some family members, such as Williams’s grandniece, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, only knew her through letters and family stories; that day, they hugged her for the first time. Via video, Williams’s son and sister told the pardon board about her importance in their lives and what it would mean, 48 years after she was first incarcerated, for her to come home. “There wasn’t a dry eye in the room,” Zarrow said, adding that board members commented several times about the outpouring of family support they saw through their video screen.


No one appeared at the hearing to oppose Williams’s commutation, though according to board members, one of Cutrera’s sons, as well as law enforcement and prosecutors in Opelousas, are against any clemency in her case


Of the three women who appeared before the pardon board that day, only Williams received a favorable recommendation. 

That’s not unusual, Rob Rich told The Appeal. In 2018, the pardon board received 167 clemency applications and only gave a favorable recommendation to 70, which were then sent to Edwards for approval. When Rob Rich appeared before the pardon board on May 14, 2018, commissioners also considered six other applications. But Rich was the only person whose sentence was commuted. And he was not automatically released from prison. Instead, the board recommended that Rich become parole-eligible immediately. Governor Edwards agreed and in June 2018 signed Rich’s commutation. On Sept. 13, Rich appeared before the parole board. On Sept. 20, he walked out of prison, but he will be on parole for the next 40 years.


If Rich hadn’t received a commutation, he would not have become eligible for parole until he had served 85 percent of his sentence (or 51 years). That’s why he, his wife, Williams’s family, and advocates for criminal legal reform are pushing for Edwards to approve a commutation for Williams. The board’s recommendation is now pending before Edwards. His press office did not respond to multiple requests for comment from The Appeal.

Williams is the only person still imprisoned for Cutrera’s death nearly 50 years ago.


The woman who shot Cutrera died 15 years ago in prison. The third participant in the crime, Philip Anthony Harris, was granted a commutation in 1987. 


Zarrow said Williams has “created purpose in her life by … using her experience to mentor and guide those other women. “

“At 73 years old, she’s really deserving of an opportunity to go home and be a mother to her children [and] to her grandchildren,” Zarrow continued. “If we view rehabilitation as one of the aims of our criminal justice system, when someone has really and truly been rehabilitated, we should recognize and honor that.” 


Correction: An earlier version of this article stated that Williams was living in Opelousas at the time of the grocery store robbery. She was living in Houston, not Opelousas.

By Admin 18 Mar, 2021
Time (2020) on Amazon Prime Video
By Admin 24 Apr, 2020
Gloria Williams’s approved clemency application has been waiting for the governor’s signature for nine months. Gloria Williams has been in prison for nearly 50 years. In 1971, she and several others robbed a grocery store with a toy gun; after a struggle with the store owner, who was armed, someone in her group shot the owner with his own gun. She was 25 years old, the mother of five kids, and sentenced to prison for the rest of her life. She is currently Louisiana’s longest-serving incarcerated woman. At the Louisiana Correctional Institute for Women, Williams has become a mentor for the younger women there, who affectionately call her “Mama Glo.” She has also been a member of the prison’s drama club for two decades. “Everyone knew and loved Mama Glo and really called on her as the matriarch of the prison,” said Fox Rich, who served time alongside Williams and is now a criminal justice advocate. Last year, Williams’s large family worked tirelessly to help her put together a clemency application, which, if approved, would allow her to go free. About 30 members of her family traveled to her clemency hearing in July, mostly from Houston and Beaumont, Texas, to tell the judge in person the things they included in letters to the Louisiana Board of Pardons — her hard work to change herself over the years from a domestic abuse survivor who “took a wrong turn” in life, as her sister Mary Smith-Moore put it, into a woman others looked up to and relied on. The Board of Pardons unanimously approved her clemency application that same month. “I spoke at her clemency hearing,” Smith-Moore said. “The experience was indeed positive, and we were grateful that they heard us — they read our letters, and they recognized all the efforts she put in to become a different version of who she was.” Williams got to meet her grandchildren for the first time at the hearing. The mood was bright — like a family reunion, fitting in the big missing piece — and Williams began to plan for her return. Instead, the clemency application has sat on the desk of Louisiana’s governor, John Bel Edwards, for nine months waiting for his signature. “They said, ‘Wait till the election.’ We had family friends out in droves voting for this person because supposedly he was going to grant her petition,” Smith-Moore said. “And then there was a runoff, and ‘Wait till the runoff.’ And it still hasn’t happened. When the coronavirus outbreak started reaching the US … we have been on pins and needles.” Over the weekend, Smith-Moore and the rest of Williams’s family finally got news — but it wasn’t about her release. They were told through Rich, who helped them work on Williams’s clemency application, that Mama Glo was hospitalized in critical condition and having trouble breathing. Days later, Williams’s attorney was able to confirm that she tested positive for Covid-19 and was receiving oxygen and antibiotics to fight pneumonia in both her lungs. “We are just devastated,” Smith-Moore said. “We’ve been calling, leaving voicemails at the governor’s office, getting no answer. Asking him to takea look at this and get her out of there because of her age, and what is she gonna do at her age? She’s not a danger to society or to anyone. And she’s at the most vulnerable age [for serious complications from Covid-19]. It’s just inhumane almost, really.” Jails and prisons are in crisis around the country Prisons and jails are hotbeds for the spread of Covid-19 due to the number of people in tight quarters, inaccessible cleaning and grooming supplies, lack of adequate medical care, visits from the outside population, and a staff that enters and leaves each day — all potential factors leading to the rapid spread of this disease. On top of that, prison and jail populations experience preexisting conditions that leave them particularly vulnerable to Covid-19 — including heart problems, high blood pressure, tuberculosis, and asthma — at a much greater rate than the general population. Thousands of incarcerated people and corrections staff have been stricken with the disease. As of April 22, New York state reported 844 staff, 239 incarcerated people, and 35 parolees had tested positive for Covid-19; 12 have died. At Rikers Island in New York City, 93 of every 1,000 inmates have tested positive as of April 21; in the rest of the city’s population, that number is 16 of every 1,000. In Ohio, 2,011 incarcerated people at the Marion Correctional Institution, more than three-quarters of its population, have tested positive for the virus as of April 22; one has reportedly died. Among staff, 154 have tested positive and another has died. In Cook County Jail in Chicago, nearly 400 incarcerated people have tested positive for Covid-19, and six have died as of April 21. As these outbreaks continue and intensify, public health officials, advocates, and some district attorneys and sheriffs have called for thinning out jail and prison populations. “This is a public health crisis that threatens to become a humanitarian disaster,” warned the Brooklyn DA, the former health commissioner, and the president of the Ford Foundation in a New York Times op-ed late last month. Many advocates say the officials who have the power to release people in prisons and jails are generally moving too slow and releasing too few to mitigate the spread of the disease. In Texas, an attempt to reduce the number of people in the Harris County Jail in Houston was met with a state-level resistance from Governor Greg Abbott; in the meantime, at least 151 jail staff and 99 incarcerated people have tested positive for Covid-19. Governors have a range of tools to help toward this aim, including granting clemency, giving more credit for time served, and temporarily furloughing prison populations. In some states, governors are using those powers fairly aggressively: California’s governor, Gavin Newsom, ordered the early release of 3,500 people from prisons over the next two months. Iowa has released 811 people from prison since March 1 and recently announced releasing 482 more. But New York Governor Andrew Cuomo said he had no plans to release anyone early from the state’s prisons, although he announced that 1,100 people across the state “may be released” with community supervision. In Louisiana, the governor is not going far enough to help ease the Covid-19 cases among the incarcerated In early February, the Advocate reported that Louisiana Governor John Bel Edwards commuted the sentences of 34 incarcerated people since taking office in 2016, an increase from former Governor Bobby Jindal’s three individual sentence commutations over the course of his two terms in office. But Edwards’s number is still only 16 percent of the more than 200 approved clemency applications he’s been given from the Louisiana Board of Pardons and Parole. In mid-April, the Louisiana Department of Corrections announced its plan to review about 1,000 prisoners who are scheduled for release in the next six months over whether to give them a temporary medical release during the crisis — a plan advocates say does not go nearly far enough. “Subjecting people who are already within six months of their release date to a cumbersome, one-sided review process does not go nearly far enough to avert a prison pandemic that would disproportionately impact people of color and further strain our health care system,” Alanah Odoms Hebert, executive director of the Louisiana ACLU, told the Advocate. “We urge Governor Edwards to heed the advice of public health experts and use his executive power to reduce our prison population — before it’s too late.”"“THIS IS A PUBLIC HEALTH CRISIS THAT THREATENS TO BECOME A HUMANITARIAN DISASTER”" Williams’s lawyer, Mercedes Montagnes, said that instead of fighting for her life in the hospital, Williams should be home right now with her family. Montagnes said that despite the months going by after her clemency application was approved by the board, Williams never lost hope for that reunion. “Gloria is a compassionate and thoughtful woman. She’s a religious woman, and she’s very patient,” Montagnes said. “She has a huge, vibrant, loving family. She was just so eager to get home to them.” Now that she’s in the hospital, Montagnes said her family is unable to reach her even by phone. “One of the reasons we’re asking the governor to grant clemency immediately is so that her family could have access to her in the ways that others could have access to their family members,” she said. “The humanity of our clients and the people we serve is real, and the current system is not treating incarcerated people as humans.” Smith-Moore said the family has started a phone chain, each giving each other pieces of news and trying to lift each other’s spirits. They’re praying for Gloria to come home. “God hears prayers. I believe that with all of my heart,” Smith-Moore said. Still, she and her family are terrified for her sister and frustrated that she isn’t home safe with them in the midst of this crisis. “This is senseless for her to be in this predicament,” Smith-Moore said. And about the governor, “I don’t know what’s so important that you got all these people in your office that you can’t take a look at a paper. I just don’t get it, I don’t understand it.” Support Vox’s explanatory journalism Every day at Vox, we aim to answer your most important questions and provide you, and our audience around the world, with information that has the power to save lives. Our mission has never been more vital than it is in this moment: to empower you through understanding. Vox’s work is reaching more people than ever, but our distinctive brand of explanatory journalism takes resources — particularly during a pandemic and an economic downturn. Your financial contribution will not constitute a donation, but it will enable our staff to continue to offer free articles, videos, and podcasts at the quality and volume that this moment requires. Please consider making a contribution to Vox today.
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