Weight lifting. Cable TV. Free clothes and food. Do-it-yourself tattoos . . . Prison must be way cool. Otherwise, why would so many "graduates" go right out and rob, rape and murder their way into another room with bars at the Loser's Hotel?
Jeffrey Gabbard of Cincinnati started making reservations when he was 14. By the time he was 17, he had a record of six burglaries, aggravated burglaries and B&Es.
Juvenile court was just the little league for major crime and hard time.
In 1988, at age 18, he was sentenced to 3-15 years in prison for two counts of burglary. But after only five years inside, the Ohio Parole Authority kicked him out of prison in 1993, to complete a substance-abuse program on his own.
His idea of a substance-abuse program was not exactly what the parole board had in mind. in less than a year he was arrested for trafficking LSD and marijuana -- and his favorite sport, burglary.
Back in the slammer, he was disciplined for possessing gang-related materials, self-mutilation (tattoos) and "hugging and kissing" a 16-year-old visitor he claimed was his "niece."
In 1996, he was was rated a 34 out of a maximum 40 on the risk formula used by the Ohio Department of
Rehabilitation and Corrections. Another rating scored him at maximum risk -- 5. Two years later, a "confidential" Parole Board document said the Hamilton County Prosecutor "strongly opposes any type of early release."
But he was paroled anyway -- a maximum-risk parole violator and three-time loser, back on the streets after serving less than five years of a 6-to-30-year sentence.
Covered with the kind of crude tattoos that shout "I'm a ex-con loser," he did what anyone could have predicted: Less than a month after his Aug. 14 release, he violated parole again by escaping from supervision. And this time, the career thief took something more valuable than stereos. He took the life of 17-year-old Jennifer Harber of Fort Thomas.
Jennifer was running an errand with the family car on Oct. 6. Her 15-year-old friend at Highlands High School talked Jennifer into picking up her uncle to drive him from Fort Thomas to Covington. When they stopped, he demanded the car.
Maybe Jennifer had heard the usual new-driver responsibility lecture. She refused. So he shot her in the face and drove away with his niece. After a police chase, he crashed and ran, leaving the injured niece behind.
"He knew his parole was going to get revoked," Covington Police Capt. Steve Wills said. He was running -- but not scared. After two days of tracking him through Clermont County and back to a Northern Kentucky bowling alley, police who arrested him said he acted like he wanted to be caught.
"He wasn't upset much. Not what you'd expect, and I've been doing this a long time," Capt. Wills said. "He was pretty calm."
Sure. The scary part -- out in the world -- was over. Now he's back in the "system," facing a murder charge and perhaps the death penalty he deserves. What a heartbreaking tragedy for Jennifer and her family that the Ohio Parole Board couldn't see that he belonged in prison all
along.
When I told Capt. Wills how high Jeffrey Gabbard's risk rating was before parole, he said just two words: "Oh, God."
At the Loveland home where Debbie Hill's parents live, Charlotte and James Slemp and their grandson, Travis, 19, plan to decorate their Christmas tree in yellow ribbons again this year. The tradition began in 1995, when Debbie was sent to prison for shooting a mentally unstable ex-boyfriend who was stalking and threatening her, her son and her parents.
Mrs. Hill had never had a parking ticket, so when Omar Pierson threatened to blow up her house she went to the police. She filed charges for phone harassment, menacing and stalking, but even the cops said the laws were toothless. Privately, they told her to get a gun and be ready to use it.
She did. Mr. Pierson approached her car on a lonely rural road in Warren County the night of Nov. 2, 1994, and she shot him to death. On 911 tapes, local cops greeted the news by saying "I hope it is him" and "this will be pretty cool."
Mrs. Hill made a plea bargain for 2-10 years on a minor charge of carrying a concealed weapon. But nearly four years later, she still sits in prison -- no chance of a parole hearing until year 2000. Maybe I don't understand the Parole Board's complicated formulas. But I thought the purpose of prisons was to keep dangerous criminals inside -- not let Jeffrey Gabbard get out of jail free while Debbie Hill misses another Christmas with her son and her parents.
Then again -- maybe they don't know what they are doing.
Peter Bronson is editorial page editor of The Enquirer. If you have questions or comments, call (513) 768-8301, or write to 312 Elm Street, Cincinnati, Ohio 45202.
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