Richard Bosley I found himself with the rare opportunity to avenge his son’s death. Dealing with politicians and individuals like Anthony Rawlings taught him many things. Closing his eyes, he saw the esteemed businessman smiling, shaking hands, and making promises. However, Governor Bosley knew Rawlings’ decision to close that plant in Flint, Michigan, cost dearly. It may not be Christian to seek revenge, but looking at the page before him, he pondered how anyone but God could present him this opportunity.
Without a second thought, Governor Richard Bosley signed his name to the bottom of the petition. He took the official Iowa stamp and made the document legal. Yes, the original ten names of prisoners receiving pardons were already released to the press. It would be all right. The newspapers would momentarily miss this great human interest story: “State Official Rights a Wrong and Releases Ex-wife of Top Executive from Prison.” The newspaper wouldn’t miss the aftermath. Richard Bosley I was confident Mr. Rawlings’s publicist would somehow spin this in his direction. However, just maybe, by avoiding the first list of pardons, Ms. Nichols would have the opportunity to write her own story.
The following day, in front of local and national press, Governor Bosley signed ten petitions. Under the Iowa State Constitution, a pardoned person was entitled to an expunction of all arrest records relating to the conviction. A full pardon restored all citizenship rights forfeited by law as the result of a criminal conviction and officially nullifies the punishment or other legal consequences of the crime. The person will forever be regarded as innocent and regain the status as if she never committed the offense for which she was convicted.
Most importantly, a pardon granted by a state executive was final and irrevocable. Governor Bosley placed the ten documents into the manila folder already containing one. Smiling weakly at the cameras he stood and walked to the podium. “Ladies and gentleman, you witnessed my final act as governor of this great state. It’s with a solemn heart today that I resign from this prestigious office…”
The clerk took the manila folder and placed each document inside its appropriate envelope. Counsel representing each individual would be contacted, prisoners would be informed, and if accepted by each prisoner, the pardon could not be overturned. Finally, the courts would be notified of each pardon. With so much activity and emotion, even the clerk didn’t realize she had filed eleven pardons instead of ten.
*****
Down the street from the State House, in another office building Jane Allyson, Attorney, paced nervously around her small office willing her telephone to ring. This was her first petition for pardon. She’d waited anxiously for verdicts from juries, verdicts that determined the freedom and future of her clients. Somehow this seemed different -- surreal. Her client had already lost her freedom and future by willingly pleading no contest to the charge of attempted murder.
Jane remembered standing next to Ms. Nichols with an overwhelming sense of helplessness -- complete impotence -- as they listened to the judge discuss the consequences of Claire’s plea. Early in law school, Jane learned to remain emotionally detached from her clients. She usually succeeded. It was a matter of survival. She wouldn’t be able to help the next client if her thoughts lingered on the one she failed. However, that day, a year ago, Jane wanted to sit and cry with Claire Nichols. It was all so wrong.
Time passes and seasons change. New clients come and go. Opportunities arise. Esquire Allyson now practiced with a firm in the heart of Iowa’s capital. Life was busy. Jane moved on -- until three days earlier, when a courier delivered a certified letter labeled: Confidential: Esquire Jane Allyson. Within the envelope she found the completed Petition for Pardon for Claire Nichols. No work on Jane’s part was required, except to sign as representing counsel. The attached typed note was short:
Ms. Allyson, Perhaps you remember a client from about a year ago, Claire Nichols. Enclosed please find a petition for pardon to Governor Bosley. As you are probably aware, his time in office is short. This MUST reach his office today. All that is required of you is your signature. Enclosed please find a certified check to reimburse you for your undertaking. Thank you.
Perhaps it was the check -- $100,000, made payable to Cash or the unsigned note, but accepting this assignment screamed wrong. What attorney in her right mind would accept a task and payment from an unknown source? Her future as well and law license may hinge on this decision. Jane knew she should consult the partners of her firm. That was her intent, until the small digital readout at the bottom of her computer screen caught her attention: 4:32 PM. The governor’s office was a ten minute walk.
Jane delivered the signed petition.
Now, she nervously awaited the future. The governor’s decision was made. Jane had watched his press conference on the web. Pacing her office, she continued to question the ethics and legality of her decision. If her telephone never rang, if the pardon wasn’t granted, no one would ever know she filed the petition. The check would remain in her file cabinet. No matter the governor’s decision, cashing the check seemed immoral and unethical.
On the wall in an impressive oak frame, matted against distinguished slate backing was her diploma from the University of Iowa, College of Law. The official seal reflected light even through the glass. Could her decision to help this woman and accept this assignment void those years of education?
She continued to pace the carpeted floor. She had plenty of work she could be doing. But, with the press conference an hour ago, she couldn’t concentrate on anything except willing her phone to ring. If the call didn’t come soon, it never would.
Without a second thought, Governor Richard Bosley signed his name to the bottom of the petition. He took the official Iowa stamp and made the document legal. Yes, the original ten names of prisoners receiving pardons were already released to the press. It would be all right. The newspapers would momentarily miss this great human interest story: “State Official Rights a Wrong and Releases Ex-wife of Top Executive from Prison.” The newspaper wouldn’t miss the aftermath. Richard Bosley I was confident Mr. Rawlings’s publicist would somehow spin this in his direction. However, just maybe, by avoiding the first list of pardons, Ms. Nichols would have the opportunity to write her own story.
The following day, in front of local and national press, Governor Bosley signed ten petitions. Under the Iowa State Constitution, a pardoned person was entitled to an expunction of all arrest records relating to the conviction. A full pardon restored all citizenship rights forfeited by law as the result of a criminal conviction and officially nullifies the punishment or other legal consequences of the crime. The person will forever be regarded as innocent and regain the status as if she never committed the offense for which she was convicted.
Most importantly, a pardon granted by a state executive was final and irrevocable. Governor Bosley placed the ten documents into the manila folder already containing one. Smiling weakly at the cameras he stood and walked to the podium. “Ladies and gentleman, you witnessed my final act as governor of this great state. It’s with a solemn heart today that I resign from this prestigious office…”
The clerk took the manila folder and placed each document inside its appropriate envelope. Counsel representing each individual would be contacted, prisoners would be informed, and if accepted by each prisoner, the pardon could not be overturned. Finally, the courts would be notified of each pardon. With so much activity and emotion, even the clerk didn’t realize she had filed eleven pardons instead of ten.
*****
Down the street from the State House, in another office building Jane Allyson, Attorney, paced nervously around her small office willing her telephone to ring. This was her first petition for pardon. She’d waited anxiously for verdicts from juries, verdicts that determined the freedom and future of her clients. Somehow this seemed different -- surreal. Her client had already lost her freedom and future by willingly pleading no contest to the charge of attempted murder.
Jane remembered standing next to Ms. Nichols with an overwhelming sense of helplessness -- complete impotence -- as they listened to the judge discuss the consequences of Claire’s plea. Early in law school, Jane learned to remain emotionally detached from her clients. She usually succeeded. It was a matter of survival. She wouldn’t be able to help the next client if her thoughts lingered on the one she failed. However, that day, a year ago, Jane wanted to sit and cry with Claire Nichols. It was all so wrong.
Time passes and seasons change. New clients come and go. Opportunities arise. Esquire Allyson now practiced with a firm in the heart of Iowa’s capital. Life was busy. Jane moved on -- until three days earlier, when a courier delivered a certified letter labeled: Confidential: Esquire Jane Allyson. Within the envelope she found the completed Petition for Pardon for Claire Nichols. No work on Jane’s part was required, except to sign as representing counsel. The attached typed note was short:
Ms. Allyson, Perhaps you remember a client from about a year ago, Claire Nichols. Enclosed please find a petition for pardon to Governor Bosley. As you are probably aware, his time in office is short. This MUST reach his office today. All that is required of you is your signature. Enclosed please find a certified check to reimburse you for your undertaking. Thank you.
Perhaps it was the check -- $100,000, made payable to Cash or the unsigned note, but accepting this assignment screamed wrong. What attorney in her right mind would accept a task and payment from an unknown source? Her future as well and law license may hinge on this decision. Jane knew she should consult the partners of her firm. That was her intent, until the small digital readout at the bottom of her computer screen caught her attention: 4:32 PM. The governor’s office was a ten minute walk.
Jane delivered the signed petition.
Now, she nervously awaited the future. The governor’s decision was made. Jane had watched his press conference on the web. Pacing her office, she continued to question the ethics and legality of her decision. If her telephone never rang, if the pardon wasn’t granted, no one would ever know she filed the petition. The check would remain in her file cabinet. No matter the governor’s decision, cashing the check seemed immoral and unethical.
On the wall in an impressive oak frame, matted against distinguished slate backing was her diploma from the University of Iowa, College of Law. The official seal reflected light even through the glass. Could her decision to help this woman and accept this assignment void those years of education?
She continued to pace the carpeted floor. She had plenty of work she could be doing. But, with the press conference an hour ago, she couldn’t concentrate on anything except willing her phone to ring. If the call didn’t come soon, it never would.
