Source: In These Times Pubdate: 12 July 1998 Contact: ROCKEFELLER'S LEGACY The women, maybe 200 in all, waited in small groups. They carried bulky old pocketbooks and frayed overnight bags stuffed with food and water and blankets for the long ride upstate. Several had sleepy children in tow. It was 9 p.m. on a Saturday in May at Columbus Circle in midtown Manhattan, where the Operation Prison Gap buses pick up weekend passengers headed for places like Attica, Auburn, Elmira and Ogdensburg. "Get down off that bench before you fall," Violet Vargas barks at her 4-year-old daughter. "Her father's in Riverview," Vargas says. "Five-to-15 for drugs. I try to see him every weekend." The bus ride to Riverview Correctional Facility takes 10 hours one way. It costs $45 round trip. "We get there in the morning and my daughter gets to spend most of the day with him," Vargas says. "The guards at Riverview are nice. It's a big sacrifice for me, but he's been a good father." A few feet away, Anthony Papa passes out leaflets to the waiting women. "Is your man in jail for drugs?" Papa asks them. "Fill out this sheet. We've got to change these Rockefeller Drug Laws." Papa is practically a Ph.D. on the Rockefeller laws. In 1985, he was a successful middle-class businessman. He owned an auto-repair and radio business in the Bronx. He was married with a family and had never been in trouble with the law. Every week, he played in a bowling league in Yonkers. A member of his team turned out to be a drug dealer who distributed cocaine at bowling alleys across suburban Westchester County. One day, the guy asked if Papa wanted to make some easy money. He offered him $500 to deliver an envelope of cocaine to the town of Mt. Vernon. Papa foolishly agreed. The courier who gave him the envelope turned out to be an undercover police informant. When Papa delivered the 4.5 ounces of coke, 20 cops were waiting. The guys who set up Papa copped a plea. Papa went to trial and was convicted on two counts, sales and possession. The judge gave him a break: He sentenced Papa to one 15-to-life sentence instead of two. Papa served 12 years in Sing Sing. In prison, he earned two bachelor's degrees and a master's from the New York Theological Seminary. He became a recognized artist, even exhibiting some paintings at the Whitney Museum. He would still be in jail if Gov. George Pataki hadn't granted him clemency in December 1996. Pataki, following the tradition of past governors, pardons a handful of Rockefeller Law inmates every Christmas. Papa now works as a legal assistant at a patent and trademark law firm. In his spare time he is trying to build a movement to restore some sanity to our justice system. When the New York drug laws were enacted 25 years ago by then Gov. Nelson Rockefeller, they were the toughest in the nation. Even today, a first-time offender convicted of selling 2 ounces of cocaine in New York gets a mandatory sentence of 15 years-to-life. Drug offenses are treated as harshly as murder, rape and kidnapping. As a result, the jails have exploded with drug felons. In 1973, there were 12,500 inmates in the New York state prison system. Today there are more than 69,000. In 1980, 57 percent of prison inmates were there for violent crimes, only 11 percent for drugs. By last year, those rates were almost reversed. "The Rockefeller laws were the prototype," says Robert Gangi, director of the Correctional Association of New York. "During the '70s and '80s, virtually every state in the nation adopted mandatory sentencing laws based on the Rockefeller model for drug and repeat felony convictions." Pataki and many other law-and-order Republicans admit the mandatory drug sentences haven't worked, but they don't dare look soft on crime by overhauling them. Some, like Warren Anderson, who was Republican majority leader in the state Senate when Rockefeller pushed through the original laws, are now campaigning quietly to restore some discretion to judges. Other groups, like the Correctional Association of New York and the William Moses Kunstler Fund for Racial Justice, are seeking total repeal of the laws, a far less likely possibility. Rockefeller has been dead a long time. But thousands are living out his legacy behind bars. Children of Rockefeller law convicts are left to grow up without their fathers or mothers whose sentences are obscene compared to some violent felons. Robert Chambers, for instance, who strangled Jennifer Levin in Central Park a decade ago, got five-to- 15 years. Joel Steinberg got eight-to-25 for the cocaine-induced killing of his daughter Lisa. Wilfred Letlow, who fatally stabbed his wife 92 times in their Queens home., was sentenced to eight-to-25 years for manslaughter. But sell 4 ounces of cocaine, and you'll get 15-to-life. - --- Checked-by: Richard Lake