Pam Nicholson

A few weeks ago, my son received a voice message from his Dauphin County probation officer. She was leaving for vacation but wanted him to know that, since he had missed a couple of payments in the past six months, he would be “violated” unless ALL the money he owed Dauphin County (about $2,300) was paid by Dec. 5. She went on to say that a warrant would be issued and he’d be incarcerated and placed on work-release until his debt was paid in full.

Many don’t know that when you are found guilty of a crime in Pennsylvania, after incarceration, you are handed a big bill — court costs, transportation, sheriffs costs, booking fee — the list goes on and on. In my son’s case, it totaled $4,233.23 for Dauphin County and $9,366.62 for York County.

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My son’s crime was forgery, six years ago in the summer of 2012. He was an addict living on the streets of Baltimore when a group from Chicago pulled up in a car and asked if he had valid ID. He did, and they offered to buy him some food and new clothes, drive him to Pennsylvania to cash some checks, and give him a few hundred of the stolen money for his trouble. He agreed.

The first couple of banks in York County cashed the checks. The last one, in Dauphin County, called the police. As the police pulled up, the gang from Chicago pulled out, and my son was arrested. He was found guilty and served a total of 18 months, part in York and part in Dauphin County.

But the story doesn’t end there, because that’s not how it works in Pennsylvania. The large dollars demanded by each county are the second punishment, much more insidious than the jail time. That’s because ex-cons have trouble finding jobs; when they do, they are usually low-paying, minimum-wage jobs, not remotely enough to support oneself at our current $7.25 per hour minimum wage, and certainly not enough to support a family. But the counties want their money, usually at least $100 a month, and they don’t want to hear about your financial struggles.

Here’s the clincher: If you miss payments, pay too little, or don’t have it paid off by the end of the probation period, this is considered a “violation of probation.” And a “violation” means a warrant for your arrest and re-incarceration. The court keeps extending the probation time until all the money is paid so they have the leverage to “violate” and incarcerate. For a crime six years ago, time already served, you go back to jail, maybe multiple times, because you still owe the county money.

In my son’s case, he is clean, doing great, working two jobs, and just welcomed his first child. He hasn’t committed any new crime in the past six years, except the crime of not paying his debt to Dauphin County fast enough.

Most of us think debtors' prison ended in this country in 1833 when the Supreme Court ruled it unconstitutional under the 14th Amendment. The Department of Justice re-affirmed this three years ago after it found many cases of incarceration due to municipal debt when investigating the Brown shooting in Ferguson, Missouri. This prompted the DOJ to send a letter to every court in the land, pointing out that incarcerating people because they owe money is unconstitutional. Apparently courts in Pennsylvania got a good laugh at these letters, balled them up, and tossed them in their big round circular file — which is exactly what it is doing with Pennsylvania citizens. Only the trash can isn’t round, it’s rectangular, has bars and guards, and ruins whatever life an ex-con has created.

In Dauphin County, it’s a true horror. When you are newly booked, you are put on A-block, which consists of tiny 2-person cells. Prisoners are only let out for 1 hour per day, into a tiny hallway that has a phone. If you have no cellmate, this amounts to solitary confinement for 23 out of 24 hours per day. And it typically takes 2-4 weeks for the court to hear a case for a new inmate. Yes, a person can, and often does, spend 2-4 weeks in solitary confinement before even speaking to a judge, over unpaid county debt.

In my son’s case, he scraped together $400, and my mom and I paid the rest. We did this so he wouldn’t lose his jobs, his home, and cause enormous hardship and heartache for himself and his fiancé by being incarcerated with a new baby. We did this against the advice of 12-step programs and every book written about addiction. They all say to let addicts face their own responsibilities and consequences. I agree. But we couldn’t sit by and watch while my son’s life was ruined by the outrageous money-grubbing policies, posing as criminal justice, of Dauphin County — and many other counties in our state.

The counties and courts know the family is easy prey. The rip-off scam begins the first day of incarceration with the outrageous cost of the prison phone system and the over-priced commissary items and continues for years. And if you have plenty of money, you can talk to your loved one on the phone, buy him overpriced clothing and snacks from the commissary, and keep him out of jail once his time is served. If not, too bad.

Moreover, it makes no sense financially to municipalities. It costs way more to re-incarcerate people than the couple of thousand dollars they owe. The policy is not only cruel and unusual, it is financially stupid and self-defeating.

Gov. Tom Wolf is doing some great work advancing criminal justice reform. I applaud his efforts and the positive changes that were made, especially ending the arbitrary snatching of driver’s licenses from convicts. But it’s time to go further. It’s time to demand that Pennsylvania stop violating our country’s 14th amendment by incarcerating people for owing money. I call upon our York County state legislators to advocate for reform.

Pam Nicholson is the innkeeper of Jackson House Bed & Breakfast and a Democratic committee woman in Springfield Township.

Also of interest, a gallery of photos below: