13 years after conviction, Webster Groves man recently sent to prison seeks freedom
9 hours ago • By Susan Weich sweich@post-dispatch.com 636-493-9674
Cornealious "Mike" Anderson of Webster Groves was not picked up for a 2000 conviction until 13 years later.
Cornealious “Mike” Anderson was sentenced to 13 years in prison for a St. Charles County armed robbery in 2000, but when nobody told him to report to jail, he went on with his life.
He became a carpenter, got married, had four children and started his own construction business.
Then last summer, just about the time Anderson would have finished serving his sentence, someone at the Department of Corrections noticed a clerical error. Anderson, who on paper had been incarcerated, had never been in prison.
Marshals found Anderson in Webster Groves, at the address listed on his drivers license, and sent him to prison to serve his sentence.
Now Anderson, 37, is fighting for his release.
Patrick Megaro, Anderson’s Orlando-based attorney, said making Anderson serve his sentence 13 years after the fact is a violation of his legal rights.
In court papers asking for Anderson’s immediate release, Megaro wrote: “It was particularly cruel and unusual to allow him to believe that the State had given him a reprieve to one day, out of the blue, knock down his door and take his entire life away.”
On Tuesday, Attorney General Chris Koster’s office filed a response rejecting Megaro’s argument but said Megaro could refile it as an action against the director of the Department of Corrections. The move could give Anderson credit for the time he was at large.
Koster’s office declined to comment after filing its response. St. Charles County Prosecutor Tim Lohmar referred all questions to Koster.
Megaro said Tuesday evening that he needed to review the document further, but the alternative approach mentioned was risky.
“If I take them up on their offer, and the court denies it, it doesn’t really do much good,” he said. “I’m going to have to do some more research, but my initial reaction is that their approach might not work.”
Megaro called Anderson’s case “absolutely bizarre.”
“It’s pretty rare to find a situation like this where the person did not become a fugitive or engage in some sort of subterfuge or fraud or misrepresentation,” he said.
When Anderson was convicted, he was 23, and his only other arrest was for smoking pot, Megaro said.
“He relied on his attorney who said someday soon, they’re going to order you to report to prison, and when the order comes, it’s going to be time to go,” Megaro said. “But when that day never came, what was he supposed to think?”
Meanwhile, Anderson filed tax returns, business licenses and construction permits that would have made him easy to find.
Even when Anderson got pulled over for a traffic offense a time or two, police never said he was a wanted man, Megaro said.
The Burger King worker making a night deposit who was held up by Anderson and another man favors Anderson’s release.
“You’ve got to give the guy a little bit of slack,” he has told reporters, according to court documents filed by Megaro. “I mean, yeah, he screwed up. But the law dropped the ball. The law ought to drop it completely. They need to leave the man alone.”
Susan McGraugh, a St. Louis University law professor who has practiced criminal defense in the city for 25 years, said Anderson’s dilemma has no easy fix. The law requires a minimum sentence served on his offenses before parole or probation can be considered.
But if Anderson could receive credit for his time at large, it would be up to the parole board to decide whether to free him.
“The guy’s lived an ideal life; one would hope they would give him parole,” she said.
Anderson could also get an early release if Gov. Jay Nixon commuted his sentence to time served. Anderson was in jail for about six weeks before posting bail.
Anderson’s wife, Laqonna, said she had no idea about her husband’s past until he called her last summer to say he was in custody.
She said she is a woman of faith and believes that her husband will be freed from the Southeast Correctional Center in Charleston, Mo., soon. So far, the family is financially stable, and she is keeping up on the mortgage payments for the house her husband built himself.
She talks to her husband every day on the phone, but she hasn’t visited him since September, when he said to stop coming; her visits were too emotionally taxing.
“The hardest part was walking away from him and not being able to take him home,” she said. “The conversation was behind a thick glass, so I couldn’t hold his hands or hug him or tell him I love him and everything’s going to be OK.”
Susan Weich is a reporter at the Post-Dispatch. Follow her on Twitter or Facebook.
Copyright 2014 stltoday.com. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
9 hours ago • By Susan Weich sweich@post-dispatch.com 636-493-9674
Cornealious "Mike" Anderson of Webster Groves was not picked up for a 2000 conviction until 13 years later.
Cornealious “Mike” Anderson was sentenced to 13 years in prison for a St. Charles County armed robbery in 2000, but when nobody told him to report to jail, he went on with his life.
He became a carpenter, got married, had four children and started his own construction business.
Then last summer, just about the time Anderson would have finished serving his sentence, someone at the Department of Corrections noticed a clerical error. Anderson, who on paper had been incarcerated, had never been in prison.
Marshals found Anderson in Webster Groves, at the address listed on his drivers license, and sent him to prison to serve his sentence.
Now Anderson, 37, is fighting for his release.
Patrick Megaro, Anderson’s Orlando-based attorney, said making Anderson serve his sentence 13 years after the fact is a violation of his legal rights.
In court papers asking for Anderson’s immediate release, Megaro wrote: “It was particularly cruel and unusual to allow him to believe that the State had given him a reprieve to one day, out of the blue, knock down his door and take his entire life away.”
On Tuesday, Attorney General Chris Koster’s office filed a response rejecting Megaro’s argument but said Megaro could refile it as an action against the director of the Department of Corrections. The move could give Anderson credit for the time he was at large.
Koster’s office declined to comment after filing its response. St. Charles County Prosecutor Tim Lohmar referred all questions to Koster.
Megaro said Tuesday evening that he needed to review the document further, but the alternative approach mentioned was risky.
“If I take them up on their offer, and the court denies it, it doesn’t really do much good,” he said. “I’m going to have to do some more research, but my initial reaction is that their approach might not work.”
Megaro called Anderson’s case “absolutely bizarre.”
“It’s pretty rare to find a situation like this where the person did not become a fugitive or engage in some sort of subterfuge or fraud or misrepresentation,” he said.
When Anderson was convicted, he was 23, and his only other arrest was for smoking pot, Megaro said.
“He relied on his attorney who said someday soon, they’re going to order you to report to prison, and when the order comes, it’s going to be time to go,” Megaro said. “But when that day never came, what was he supposed to think?”
Meanwhile, Anderson filed tax returns, business licenses and construction permits that would have made him easy to find.
Even when Anderson got pulled over for a traffic offense a time or two, police never said he was a wanted man, Megaro said.
The Burger King worker making a night deposit who was held up by Anderson and another man favors Anderson’s release.
“You’ve got to give the guy a little bit of slack,” he has told reporters, according to court documents filed by Megaro. “I mean, yeah, he screwed up. But the law dropped the ball. The law ought to drop it completely. They need to leave the man alone.”
Susan McGraugh, a St. Louis University law professor who has practiced criminal defense in the city for 25 years, said Anderson’s dilemma has no easy fix. The law requires a minimum sentence served on his offenses before parole or probation can be considered.
But if Anderson could receive credit for his time at large, it would be up to the parole board to decide whether to free him.
“The guy’s lived an ideal life; one would hope they would give him parole,” she said.
Anderson could also get an early release if Gov. Jay Nixon commuted his sentence to time served. Anderson was in jail for about six weeks before posting bail.
Anderson’s wife, Laqonna, said she had no idea about her husband’s past until he called her last summer to say he was in custody.
She said she is a woman of faith and believes that her husband will be freed from the Southeast Correctional Center in Charleston, Mo., soon. So far, the family is financially stable, and she is keeping up on the mortgage payments for the house her husband built himself.
She talks to her husband every day on the phone, but she hasn’t visited him since September, when he said to stop coming; her visits were too emotionally taxing.
“The hardest part was walking away from him and not being able to take him home,” she said. “The conversation was behind a thick glass, so I couldn’t hold his hands or hug him or tell him I love him and everything’s going to be OK.”
Susan Weich is a reporter at the Post-Dispatch. Follow her on Twitter or Facebook.
Copyright 2014 stltoday.com. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
...doesn't seem fair, really.
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