AFTER SERVING 14 YEARS on a 28-to-life sentence for commercial burglary, a California Board of Parole Hearings panel granted Vincent O’Bannon a parole date.
But before he could pick out his parole clothes or decide what he wanted for breakfast on his first day out, O’Bannon received devastating news. Parole authorities said he did not pay all of his restitution and his grant of parole was rescinded.
“This is crazy, I’ve been paying my restitution,” said O’Bannon. “Every month they deduct it from my prison pay.”
At sentencing, he was ordered to pay a restitution amount of $6,113. He still owes $3,935.29.
O’Bannon makes $36 a month as a photographer for the San Quentin prison newspaper. That amount is trimmed to $18 after an automatic 50 percent deduction for restitution. But the board is not satisfied, which puts O’Bannon in a sort of modern-day debtors’ prison.
Today, many people like O’Bannon, who is African American, find themselves trapped in a system of incarceration that requires them to purchase their freedom by paying a monetary debt. Debtors’ prisons were abolished under federal law by Congress in 1833. In 1983, the U.S. Supreme Court reaffirmed that incarcerating indigent debtors is unconstitutional under the Fourteenth Amendment.
The debts of people in prisons is a mounting problem across the country, according to the American Civil Liberties Union. Since 2009, the ACLU has been exposing and challenging modern-day debtors’ prisons.
“Ultimately, debtors’ prisons are not only unfair and insensible, they are also illegal. Imprisoning someone because he cannot afford to pay court-imposed fines or fees violates the Fourteenth Amendment promises of due process and equal protection under the law,” the ACLU says.
Even before 1983, in Williams v. Illinois, a 1970 case, the Supreme Court decided that a maximum prison term could not be extended because the defendant failed to pay court costs or fines. This is very similar to what is happening to O’Bannon.
But there is more to this story.
Adding time for a brand new crime
O’Bannon is accused by the Board of Parole Hearings of conspiring with his wife Cynthia to circumvent the restitution process by placing money in the accounts of other prisoners via the prison’s JPay money transfer system to avoid a 50 percent restitution deduction. Authorities discovered an estimated $5,074.09 from O’Bannon’s wife had been deposited in other prisoners’ accounts. They reasoned that had the money been placed in O’Bannon’s account, his restitution would practically be paid off.
“It was never intended for my family to pay for my crime,” said O’Bannon. “That’s my responsibility. I can easily pay it when I get out.”
But O’Bannon was issued a prison rule violation report and he was found guilty of circumventing the restitution collection process in violation of California Penal Code Section 155.5, which is a felony offense. O’Bannon received an additional four months on his prison sentence as a result of this rule violation report.
In essence, authorities are holding O’Bannon responsible for not turning over to them money received from his wife.
O’Bannon’s situation resembles that of Charles Dickens and his family in 1824. Dickens was placed in the Marshalsea debtors’ prison, along with his wife and his children, with the exception of his 12-year-old son, who was put to work in a factory. The family stayed in prison until May of that same year, after Dickens’ mother died and left him an inheritance to help pay his debt.
O’Bannon admits he had his wife deposit money into other prisoners’ trust accounts to be able to afford high prices at the canteen — a walk-up window where inmates can purchase packaged foods and snacks as well as basic necessities.
He also did it to supplement the small amounts of prison food he receives. He said he bought radios and art and craft supplies to help do his time.
“If I wanted say 100 dollars worth for the canteen, then for me to get that, that full amount then, my wife or whomever would have to put 200 dollars on my books,” said O’Bannon. “Sometimes they are not willing to do that.”
He chose to follow a system created through the underground prison economy. How it works is simple: Find somebody who doesn’t owe restitution and pay them a smaller fee, say $20, to make canteen purchases for you.
“Before the board brought this up I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong,” said O’Bannon. “My restitution is a civil judgment not criminal.”
Paying their debt to society
The concept of a debtors’ prison can be understood through the Thirteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution, which abolished slavery, except as a punishment for a crime. Our current system of incarceration requires criminals to pay their debt to society. That is in essence a debtors’ prison.
Paying restitution is partly how one pays his debt to society. Not paying however, is considered by some as not taking responsibility or accountability and engaging in criminal thinking and behavior.
Dennis Jefferson, who was convicted for murder in 2003, believes that circumventing the restitution process is evidence of a lack of remorse.
“I received a $20,000 restitution order. I finally got it down to $10,000. I’m not going to duck my responsibility to pay it,” he said. “That’s part of me taking responsibility and being accountable.”
But Jefferson said he doesn’t see the point in extending O’Bannon’s incarceration.
There is no statute of limitations on paying a restitution order under California’s penal codes.
“We have to pay restitution even when we get out,” he said. “The government will garnish your wages. Having access to a minimum wage job will help him pay off his restitution more quickly than making pennies in prison.”
To Jefferson’s point, there is no statute of limitations on paying a restitution order under California’s penal codes. O’Bannon is not required to pay before his release from prison. In fact, mathematically, it likely will be easier for him to pay when he is released from prison, considering the pennies he makes at his prison job.
But if O’Bannon continues to pay $18 dollars a month from his prison job. Hypothetically, it could take 17 years to pay his restitution off. With a 40-hour work week out of prison, at $20 dollars an hour, and only a third going toward restitution, he could pay it off in several months.
There are also questions concerning the statute as it is being applied to O’Bannon. He argues Penal Code Section 155.5 is a criminal statute that constitutionally requires him to be given a lawyer and the option of a trial by a jury — not a prison disciplinary proceeding.
“My wife, daughter and grandkids, all really thought I was coming home this year,” said O’Bannon. “This is really hard on them.”