CHICAGO _ Sherman Morisette served 35 years in prison for robbing a Chicago taxi driver at gunpoint on Christmas Eve in 1983.
It was his third stickup in seven years, all committed after he came home from the Vietnam War.
He never pulled the trigger, but prosecutors labeled the Chicago man, 34 at the time, a "habitual criminal" under a tough-on-crime sentencing law that mandates a natural life sentence after a third conviction.
Morisette was supposed to die in prison. Instead, in one of his final acts in office, then-Illinois Gov. Bruce Rauner commuted the sentence to life with the possibility of parole early last year.
Rauner, a Republican, did not pardon him outright. Instead, in a unique move, he left the decision to the Illinois Prisoner Review Board. The panel approved Morisette's release late last year.
"I thank God," he told the Chicago Tribune that November afternoon, standing outside Stateville Correctional Center near Joliet. "He made a way out of nowhere for me."
His freedom came at a time when criminal justice reform was a hot national topic. Early this year, Gov. J.B. Pritzker identified it as a top priority due to what the Democrat described as "an overcrowded prison system" that is "too expensive, too punitive and too ineffective."
Then COVID-19 struck, sidelining the conversation. But, in a refocused message highlighting the health crisis, prison reform advocates and civil rights groups are pushing to free elderly, sick or nonviolent offenders as the virus spreads in prisons.
The main outbreak has been in Stateville, where Morisette was incarcerated. At least 12 inmates housed there have died since March from the virus, with about 300 staff members and inmates falling ill, according to state officials.
But many in law-and-order professions urge caution, angered by the Illinois Department of Corrections' early release of about 1,300 prisoners through various measures due to the coronavirus.
Pritzker has used his clemency power to free another 20 people since March. Four of them were imprisoned for life under the habitual criminal law that ensnared Morisette. Each served at least 25 years for armed robbery or, in one case, a cocaine conviction.
Citing the pandemic, the Illinois Prison Project is seeking the emergency release of another 44 men in a similar situation, all deemed habitual criminals serving life for an armed robbery-related crime.
Jennifer Soble, the Chicago-based nonprofit's executive director, argues the one-size-fits-all penalty of the sentencing law does not accurately reflect the crime in each case. She said the men are old, long past the age of recidivism, and their crimes are far from the worst of the worst.
Soble hopes Morisette's case will spark discussion about the fairness of the law and clear a path for the others. He first garnered the attention of advocates because of his efforts to better himself in prison.
Morisette is a certified paralegal who provided counsel to other inmates and worked to improve conditions inside prison for decades. He practiced Judaism, Islam and Buddhism and was a yoga enthusiast before his health deteriorated.
Blind in his left eye and in need of a double hip replacement surgery due to degenerative bone disease, the 70-year-old has returned to the city of his youth, moved into his own apartment and reconnected with a long-lost love whom he never forgot.
