Gov. Tony Evers announced a deadline of Oct. 5 as the last day for a Wisconsinite to submit an application for a pardon for a crime, before Evers’ second and last term as governor ends in January 2027. 

Distinct from a commutation or a parole order, a pardon restores rights that a person loses if convicted of a felony, including the right to serve on a jury, hold public office and hold certain professional licenses. 

In 2019, Evers issued the first pardons in Wisconsin in nine years. In a press release, he said that reinstating the pardons process and “offering over 2,000 second chances to folks across our state” has been one of his administration’s most important endeavors. 

“I encourage folks who are interested to apply by the deadline and sincerely hope to see this good work continue in earnest in the years ahead,” Evers said. 

To be eligible, a person must be seeking a pardon for a Wisconsin felony conviction and have finished any criminal sentence at least five years ago. Applicants must not have any pending criminal cases or charges in any jurisdiction or be currently required to register as a sex offender. 

Evers’ Pardon Advisory Board held two hearings on Friday; the agendas for the hearings listed 30 applicants for pardons. 

The pardon application and answers to frequently asked questions are on the governor’s website. Each applicant appears before the board for about 10 minutes, giving an introduction and taking questions from the board. The board votes whether or not to recommend a pardon for an applicant; if a majority of the board votes in favor, the application is sent on to Evers for a final decision. 

On Friday the Commutation Advisory Board met for the second month in a row to hear from another 12 incarcerated people applying for a commutation, a shortening or modification of a criminal sentence allowed by Wisconsin Constitution under the governor’s executive clemency authority.

Gov. Tony Evers issued two executive orders on April 4 establishing the Commutation Advisory Board and application process 25 years after the last commutations  were offered by Gov. Tommy Thompson.

On Aug. 21, the board heard from the first 12 applicants.

The second round of the applicants also appeared in open session via livestreaming. The board then convened in closed session to make recommendations to the governor. Board chair Mel Barnes said that only those receiving a majority vote of the members are forwarded to the governor for consideration.

Touissant Harley

In 1992, Touissant Harley was sentenced to life imprisonment for first-degree murder and first-degree reckless injury. A board member said he became eligible for parole in July 2025. Harley, now 53, was convicted at 18. 

Harley told the board that it was impossible for him to “fully grasp the impact that my abhorrent actions had upon Mrs. Sallis, mentally, emotionally and otherwise,” referring to Mavis Sallis, the mother of the victim of the homicide. 

“In me accepting responsibility and apologizing, I’m also expressing the fact that I fully recognize that reality that I am not by no means worthy of the slightest acknowledgement from neither Mr. Evans or Mrs. Sallis,” Harley said. “I did not awake Aug. 15, 1991 with the intent to harm anyone. Nonetheless, me shooting and killing Chris, and injuring Mr. Evans, not only disgusted me, I felt like I was the worst of the worst… My disregard for life generated fear in the community and contributed to the eroding trust society affords each individual.”

In a December 2024 hearing in Harley’s case, then-Milwaukee County District Attorney John Chisholm presented Sallis’s thoughts, using a statement from Sallis prepared by Harley’s attorney. 

Chisholm said that immediately after the homicide, Harley wrote a letter to Sallis, apologizing and asking for forgiveness for the death of her son. He said Sallis is an active supporter of his early release and his pleading to a lesser charge. 

“The relationship has been a testament to the power of forgiveness and restoration,” he said. “During his sentencing and trial phase, the voice of Christopher Sallis’s mother was neither heard nor considered.” 

Mistye Doughty

Mistye Doughty, 66, incarcerated at Taycheedah Correctional Institution, was sentenced on Oct. 11, 2002, in Brown County to 35 years followed by 25 years of extended supervision for felony murder and armed robbery. She has completed 25 years of her sentence.

In 2004, Doughty’s appeal was denied. She claimed she was not a party to a crime involving the robbery of a jeweler, Douglas Tappa, who was killed by her husband, Matthew Doughty, during a robbery.

Doughty recounted her husband attacking Tappa, and then later receiving $100 from him after selling the jewels in Chicago, although the court found she had taken “half the proceeds,” which she contested was incorrect. 

“I accept all responsibility and accountability for my action of not rendering aid and calling 911,” she said. “A good man lost his life. I live with the remorse and regret every day for what I did and didn’t do by not taking the proper action. This shattered many lives. I hurt and violated the sanctity of the home of Mr. Tampa, deeply hurting his children, grandchildren.” 

She recounted receiving therapy and becoming a certified peer specialist  to work and mentor others.

If released, Doughty said, she would live at Safe House in Madison managed by the advocacy group EXPO and continue with therapy and working as a peer mentor.

“Working as a certified peer specialist is my way of giving back to the community,” she said.

During victim statements, Mel Tappa, Douglas’s daughter, recounted how her mother and siblings suffered from the death of her father, and she asked the board to not grant a commutation.

Efrain Campos

In 1999, Efrain Campos was sentenced to 70 years of confinement. He was convicted of being party to armed robbery and first-degree recklessly endangering safety. 

According to a criminal complaint, he was charged with conducting robberies with threat of force between Jan. 18 and 19, 1999, and was charged with attempted homicide for shooting at two responding police officers. He said he’s been incarcerated for about 27 years for crimes committed when he had just turned 18. 

“I am grateful that no one lost their life, but I recognize that the outcome could have been very different,” Campos told the board. “At the time, I was immature, and I wanted to fit in and feel accepted. Growing up without a father in my life contributed to my desire to find acceptance from others. But that is no excuse. I had choices, and I made terrible and selfish ones.”

 

Wazir El-Amin

Wazir El-Amin, formerly Wade A. Curtis, 55, incarcerated at Fox Lake Correctional Institution, was given a life sentence on Nov. 21, 1990 for first degree intentional homicide with a dangerous weapon in Racine County, and has served 37 years in prison.

He applied for juvenile commutation because he was 18 at the time of his conviction; anyone 19 or younger at the time of conviction can apply through the juvenile application.

El-Amin is eligible for a parole hearing in 2028.

At the hearing, he took responsibility for the death of Christopher Rolle,18, and the pain it caused Rolle’s family and community.

“I understand now what I didn’t then – that my actions caused both mental, physical, emotional trauma,” he said.

He said the one way he had made amends was  by turning his life around, including pursuing his  education, getting two degrees, participating in several programs and becoming a tutor and respite care worker.

If released, he said he would live in the duplex he owns with his wife and he would continue in a program helping other people  who have been to prison.

Casey Fisher

In 1994, Casey Fisher was sentenced to life imprisonment and a consecutive 20 years of confinement. He was convicted of first-degree intentional homicide while armed and armed robbery with threat of force. 

Fisher, 54, said he has and still is maintaining his innocence of the crime, but that he isn’t trying to challenge his conviction through the commutation process. 

“I also want to acknowledge that me maintaining my innocence in this matter does not mean that I was some kind of good guy back then,” Fisher said. “I really wasn’t. I made a lot of poor choices, I often associated with the wrong people and acted without thinking about the impact that my actions had on others.”

Fisher said that during his incarceration, he’s taken advantage of some of the programs and classes in the prison system. Board member Cindy O’Donnell, former deputy secretary of the Wisconsin Department of Corrections, said that he hadn’t received a prison conduct report since 2018. She said that this was a hard thing to achieve, and asked how he’d done it. 

“Stayed in my own lane and just stayed focused on trying to do better,” Fisher said. “(I’ve) got a 2year-old granddaughter.”

Richard Sulla

Richard Sulla, 39, incarcerated at  Oregon Correctional Center, was convicted in May 15, 2012 for burglary using a dangerous weapon prison and required to make restitution of $101,070 to Joseph and Laurie Dudley. He was also charged with multiple other offenses in Waukesha, Milwaukee, Walworth and Washington counties that cumulatively, with the Jefferson County offenses, resulted in 25 years of incarceration and 25 years extended supervision. He has served 16 years in prison.

Sulla said he began his crime spree after he was medically discharged from the Marine Corp. while struggling with the effects of childhood abuse.

“I violated their sense of security and trust in society,” he said of his victims. “I took family memories and ultimately destroyed the Dudleys’ home. And today I stand here humbled, apologetic, and truly sorry for my actions. The destruction I caused to the Dudleys’ home was the first time in this 18-month crime spree I laid awake at night asking myself, ‘What are you doing, Richard?’”

He said in prison he began to focus on changing and taking responsibility for his actions. Through restorative justice programs, he realized the ripple effect of the harm his actions had caused.

He described  investing his time in getting an education and volunteering for Paws Patrols, working with service dogs and earning an associate’s degree, and starting a certified peer support program.

The Dudleys submitted a letter asking that Sulla not be given a commutation due to the damage he caused the family.

Robert Patterson

Robert Patterson was convicted of killing a man found dead from gunshot wounds in a van where he was a passenger on Sept. 3, 2002.

According to the criminal complaint, Patterson said he was riding in the back of the van when one of the men, Kristopher Beason, suddenly turned around in the front seat. His co-defendant, Kionta Crockett, began shooting after he saw Beason was holding a gun. 

Patterson said “the whole van was lighting up like a strobe light.” Patterson pointed his own gun toward the front of the van and fired at least two shots as he moved to exit the vehicle and ran away. 

Patterson told the board that he feared for his life. 

 “Looking back on the situation, I know that I didn’t have to shoot Kris,” he told the commutations board. “I had options…I also should not have gotten into a vehicle with people I didn’t trust.”

Ballistics results linked Beason’s bullet wounds to Patterson’s gun, according to court records. Patterson pled guilty to an amended charge of party to second-degree intentional homicide in Beason’s death. The prosecution agreed to recommend “in the area of 20 years” for initial confinement. 

Patterson was sentenced in 2003 to 27 years behind bars and 18 years on community supervision. 

Board chair Mel Barnes read a statement opposing Patterson’s application for commutation  from the sister of the victim. She said that the pain of losing her brother, especially knowing the perpetrator was a neighbor of more than 10 years whom she considered a friend, “shattered my sense of safety and trust.” She said Patterson pretended to help look for the people behind the crime despite being responsible. 

“It is deeply painful to know that if Robert Patterson is released, he will move forward with his life, while my family continues to live with the daily anguish of his actions,” Barnes read from the statement.

Dequelvin Douglas

Dequelvin Douglas, 47, a resident of Oshkosh Correctional Institution, was convicted of first degree intentional homicide and attempted first degree intentional homicide in Kenosha County at age 15 and sentenced to life in prison when he was 16. He has been incarcerated for 31 years.

“I take full responsibility for my actions,” he said. “This is not a crime of circumstance or peer pressure, but rather the result of a deliberate and selfish choice that terrorized my community. The actions I display, specifically in regards to my victims and their families, are both inexcusable and unrepairable. I know that there are no words that can be said to heal their pain or change how I destroyed their lives.”

When he went to prison at age 16, Douglas said, he thought he was a “monster,” but, he said, over the years he became a member of a men’ s accountability group and began to change his perspective and mature.

He talked about becoming a peer specialist and a mentor and helping others, especially young men. 

A restorative justice program, he said, helped him understand the perspective of his victims and develop empathy.

Harlan Schwartz 

In 2001, Harlan Schwartz was sentenced to 37 years behind bars and 18 years of supervision in the community. He had been convicted of two counts of arson for setting fire to a building and a count of selling, possessing or manufacturing a Molotov cocktail. 

Schwartz was charged in two instances of arson against then-Douglas County District Attorney Daniel Blank’s home, according to the criminal complaint in the case.

The first incident caused soot discoloration and minor charring on part of the siding on the garage. Over a month later, Blank’s family woke to the sound of breaking glass. Blank, his wife Suzanne and their three year-old daughter had been sleeping on the second floor of their home. Suzanne Blank said that she saw fire and smoke in their living room on the lower level, and the family called 911 and exited the home.  

Schwartz and his co-defendent claimed that they committed the crime under duress because they were in fear of their lives and the lives of their families based on threats by gang leader Alejandro Rivera, Fox 21 News reported. At the time of the firebombing, Rivera was awaiting trial for murder, with Blank as prosecutor. 

“Between (my co-defendant) and I, it was fear for me to participate in this because at that point in time, I didn’t believe I had any other choice,” Schwartz said. “As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized I had a lot of different choices.”

Board member Cindy O’Donnell said that the Blanks wrote a letter in support of Schwartz’s commutation.

“That means so much to me,” Schwartz said. “I’m so sorry for everything I did to them, and for them to support and have forgiveness is just so overwhelming.”

In a notice to the court, Douglas County Circuit Court Judge George Glonek took no position on whether Schwartz should receive a commutation, noting that he was not the judge who handed down the original sentence, and that Judge Joseph McDonald is now deceased. But he stated that the incident “did more than just affect the victims, the city of Superior, or the County of Douglas.” 

Glonek wrote that during the sentencing hearing, McDonald said that the incident “‘was an attack on the criminal justice system’ (including elected officials) which shook the entire State of Wisconsin and beyond.”

Glonek wrote that at the sentencing hearing, McDonald said that the jury appropriately found there was no coercion, and called the conduct an “act of cowardice.”

“He says fear,” McDonald stated, according to Glonek. “The State says money. I say money. Fear wasn’t there…Fear wasn’t there when he was calling, trying to make arrangements after the fire bombing to Rivera to get the money, according to the testimony of other witnesses. He was waiting for the delivery of the money.”

In 2022, Schwartz sought a lighter sentence, with his attorney arguing that he provided information to law enforcement regarding a prison stabbing at risk of his own safety, according to a hearing transcript. His attorney contended that because of this new factor, Schwartz had met the standard for a sentence modification, and that his overall changed character merited a lighter sentence. 

“There are few things more telling about a person’s character than their (willingness) to risk their own safety to do the right thing,” Schwartz’s attorney said. “Mr. Schwartz did not do that 22 years ago when he committed the crime. He has shown today that he can and he is willing to do that.”

He said that the perpetrator of the prison stabbing, David Schroeder, admitted that he intended to kill the victim because he thought he was a snitch. 

“(Schwartz) found out later that David Schroeder had found out who he was, that he had provided information to the State, that he had made threats to Mr. Schwartz based on that,” Schwartz’s attorney said. 

At the hearing, the district attorney argued that Schwartz hadn’t met the legal standard to be considered for a lighter sentence. He said that Schwartz wasn’t the only witness to the stabbing and that Schroeder took a plea deal instead of going to trial. Judge George Glonek declined to change Schwartz’s sentence. 

Dawn Dobbs

Dawn Dobbs, 59, incarcerated at Taycheedah Correctional Institution, was convicted of first degree intentional homicide (party to a crime) in Milwaukee County and sentenced July 1, 1994, to life imprisonment for killing her life partner, the father of her two sons. She has been in prison for over 32 years.

At 26 years of age, she said, she obtained a gun that a younger co-defendant used to shoot  her partner. She said it had taken her 20 years to be fully accountable for her actions instead of blaming others. She said she now took responsibility for enticing her younger co-defendants to commit the crime.

“As pathetic as these words are, I am so very sorry for the trauma, the pain and heartache that I’ve caused for each and every one of you,” she said to her victims.

Dobbs recounted various jobs she had in prison and the numerous programs she has participated in, including counseling in anger management and coping skills.

She noted one of her crowning achievements was making a suicide prevention video that is viewed in prisons and had reportedly helped to save lives.

If released, she said she would live with her sister in Jefferson, where other family members live, and said she would like to work with animals and volunteer with numerous agencies, including animal and homeless shelters.

Richard Perekovich

On Nov. 9, 2001, police found Victor Ransom dead in the parking lot outside a tavern, alongside Antonio Young, who had gunshot wounds to his right arm and right leg after gunfire  broke out while the two men were leaving the bar at closing time.. 

According to a criminal complaint, Young said he and Ransom were walking out of the tavern when he saw a man he later identified as Richard Perekovich in front of the bar. Perekovich appeared to be showing off a handgun. Young was looking away and talking with Ransom when he heard a scream.

He looked up and saw Perekovich, firing the gun. Young ran and was hit in the arm and leg, and saw Ransom lying on the ground. Perekovich was sentenced to 30 years behind bars and 10 years of supervision in the community for the shootings. 

“Although the circumstances have never been fully resolved, the fact remains that my choice to arm myself and return fire resulted in the loss of a precious life, deprived children of their father, caused the mother to suffer the loss of her son, and a young man challenged with a severe injury to his arm,” Perekovich said. 

A board member asked Perekovich to clarify what happened and who fired first. He said that he fired first out of fear as a person who approached him at his car moved for a gun. Asked whether he saw a weapon, he said he did not, but that the person had previously threatened to “put a hole” in him.  

At sentencing, Perekovich said he pleaded no-contest because he didn’t think he could persuade a jury he acted in self-defense because of how many shots he fired, according to court records. His defense counsel argued that an investigator had found independent witnesses who said that people at the crime scene were armed and firing guns. Perekovich said he believed he was defending himself and did not intend to hit anyone when he fired his gun. 

The circuit court didn’t adopt the state or Perekovich’s version of events presented at sentencing, but said that “although you tell this court that you were not intending to shoot directly at anyone, it appears that an innocent person, someone who is doing nothing more than probably saying goodnight to his friends after an evening of socializing, he, too, was probably doing nothing more than trying to go home and be with his family.”

Yatau Her

Yatau Her, 43, incarcerated at  McNaughton Correctional Center, was convicted of attempted first degree intentional homicide in Eau Claire County, and sentenced on Nov. 18, 2005 to 24 years of confinement and 15 years of extended supervision.

Prior to his attempted robbery of the grocery store, Her said, his life had been unstable after he escaped  from the California Youth Authority to Minnesota and then joined a gang. He recounted the robbery and how he panicked and shot at the store owner.

At his sentencing, he said, the victim asked why a hardworking woman who had done nothing to others would be threatened with harm.

“To answer that question, life pushed me around, and I didn’t have the confidence in my ability, nor the capability to understand how to push life back, so I took it out on people,” he said and added,  “I am ashamed of my actions.”

In 2011, while living in segregation, Her said, he had a revelation about how destructive his life had become and how he had harmed others, and he began to reflect, tried to surround himself with “productive individuals,” and invested in himself by reading self-help books and participating in programs.

He said he gained work experience and education and skills and, over the years, was allowed to move from maximum to medium to unsecured minimum housing and take part in work release.

He said he is no longer a threat to society, and is “ready for the final step of rehabilitation.”

If released, he said he would live with family in California, Oklahoma or Wisconsin.

On Friday, Gov. Tony Evers’ Commutation Advisory Board heard from 12 incarcerated people who are asking the governor to shorten their prison sentences, as well as some of the victims of their crimes. 

“I found myself thinking of this a lot, really often, and feeling terrible for what I had done to these people, and wished more than anything that I could just take it back, and never hurt anyone in any way,” said applicant Aaron Smith.

Evers issued two executive orders in April that revived commutations in Wisconsin after decades of governors not exercising their power to alter prison sentences. The advisory board is responsible for reviewing commutation applications that meet Evers’ criteria for consideration and for making recommendations to the governor about who should receive a commutation. The board also recommends how a person’s sentence should be changed or shortened. 

Granting commutations rewards incarcerated people who are committed to change, according to Evers, promoting rehabilitation. 

On Wednesday, Republican state Sen. Van Wanggaard (R-Racine) announced in a press release that he was releasing the names of more than 800 incarcerated people who were seeking commutation of their sentences. He argued that Evers is using “hand-picked, unelected bureaucrats” to second-guess prosecutors and judges. 

At the Friday hearing, 12 incarcerated people spoke before the board. After the applicants took questions from board members, victims had a chance to give statements.

Sharif Green

In 2015, Sharif Green was sentenced to 20 years of incarceration and 10 years of extended supervision on charges of possessing cocaine and heroin with intent to manufacture, distribute or deliver it. 

“I take full responsibility for my wrong action,” Green said. “And I believe from the bottom of my heart, I’ve changed. I had conversations with people, they see the change in me. I no longer earn money illegally. I’ve been working since I’ve been here.”

Green previously served time in Wisconsin’s prison system after a drug-related conviction in 1997. A board member said that many of the applicants being reviewed by the board at the hearing were young when they committed their offenses, while Green was 40 years old at the time of his 2014 offense. 

She asked Green what he thinks helped him change this time that’s different from the first time he went to prison. He spoke about a time in which people turned away from him during a conversation after hearing about his sentence, and about a time when he’d received bad news from family. 

“All that time I was wasting for no reason when I could’ve changed, and I had the opportunity to do it but I didn’t,” Green said. “So this time, I have no choice.”

Mighty Howell

Mighty Howell, 50, a resident of Jackson Correctional Institution, incarcerated for 33 years, was convicted of first-degree intentional homicide for the May 27,1993 killing of Roger Bucholz in Milwaukee. He recounted how at age 17 he and three friends were inspired to commit armed robbery after watching a movie, firing shots in the direction of Bucholz’s vehicle and later realized Bucholz had been killed.

“He had no reason to not believe that he was going to make it home safe that night to his family and his kids,” said Howell. “Not only did I take away his opportunity to live a full, successful life, I took it away from his family. I took away from his kids, and I think that at this moment I want to apologize to his parents, his wife, his kids, his relatives, all his relatives.”

He said one of the ways for him to show “genuine remorse” was to change while incarcerated. He recounted the programs he had participated in, including furthering his education as well as his efforts to confront his fears and make decisions to mature.

“I’ve done 33 years and about five months now,” he said. “The 17-year-old bears no resemblance to the 50-year-old that sits before you today.”.

“It was a difficult process to remove those bad habits,” he said and talked about making the decision to cut ties with friends and gang members, and his decision while he was in solitary confinement to change his life.   

Asked if he had forgiven himself, he said, “It was hard because I always felt like, man, you killed somebody, bro. So I always felt that pain.” 

He added that through religious services, he had addressed his guilt.

 “In order for you to move forward, you have to forgive yourself,” he said, “and I believe I’ve done a great job so far, but it’s still there.”

Aaron Smith

In 2008, Aaron Smith was convicted of four counts of armed robbery with threat of force, a count of burglary and a count of attempted armed robbery with threat of force. He received 20 years of incarceration and 15 years of extended supervision for the offenses, which took place between September and November 2007. 

Smith said he was 18 years old at the time he committed his crimes and made bad decisions fueled by a drug addiction. He said that early in his incarceration, he didn’t think of his crimes as having victims. While volunteering in a prison program that involved training dogs for PTSD service work for war veterans and people affected by crime, he had the opportunity to work with crime victims, which opened his eyes, he said. 

“I remember working with these people and thinking to myself, ‘How did my actions affect these people in my case?’” Smith said. “Did my victims in my case get affected in such a way as the people I was working with?”

A board member questioned Smith about the motivation for his crimes, stating the criminal complaint in his case showed that at the time, Smith had said his motivation was needing money, not addiction. Smith replied that he’d initially lied about his drug use and eventually admitted to having a drug problem and had to complete treatment programs. 

Smith was also questioned about a conduct report he received for tobacco earlier this year, asking why he would risk his work release program. Smith called it a “very dumb decision.”

“I’m going to be looking at my freedom, and that potentially being taken away from me if I make mistakes,” Smith said. “So I need to be able to refer back to the treatment that I have and stop and think, go through the scenario. What’s about to happen if I do this?” 

Board chair Mel Barnes read an anonymous statement from a victim in Smith’s case, who said that he should not receive a commutation and that they still experience flashbacks, nightmares and hypervigilance. The victim said Smith has the right to file for his sentence to be adjusted but argued that the judge in Smith’s case made his decision carefully, and that Smith’s offenses were not just one impulsive act. 

“Aaron Smith obviously believed that robbing people was the easy way, and better than making an honest living,” the victim’s statement said. “I didn’t deserve this to happen to me, but it did because (of) Aaron Smith…I do believe that people can change, and I do believe in second chances. Aaron Smith may have changed his life while in prison, but to me, trying to get out of your prison sentence early doesn’t really show accountability.” 

Natalie Murphy

Natalie Murphy, 33, a resident of Taycheedah Correctional Institution, was sentenced on December 16, 2016, in Juneau County for first-degree reckless homicide that led to the death of her boyfriend, Andrew Dammen, 24, and for second-degree reckless endangerment of her oldest daughter. She received a 20-year sentence of incarceration, followed by 10 years of extended supervision.

“I’ve spent every day thinking about all the things that I could have done differently prior to Andy’s death that night, and I can see how all of my unhealthy choices resulted in the loss of Andy’s life and the exposure to toxic and dangerous situations for our daughters,” she said. “While our relationship was far from perfect, Andy was a good father to our child, and I wish more than anything he could have been here for her and for his son Weston.”

Murphy talked about her determination to be a better person, including participating in therapy groups, working on parenting skills, gaining a diploma as a culinary assistant, becoming a certified peer specialist (CPS) and becoming a CPS trainer, completing a four-year personal enrichment course through Moody Bible College, obtaining a paralegal certificate and working toward an associate’s degree from University of Wisconsin-Green Bay.

She said she is working on making her re-entry as “seamlessly as possible.”

“I’ve been focusing on education to better prepare me for re-entry, and on treatment to change the unhealthy aspects of who I am or who I was,” she said, adding, “to learn better ways of interacting with the world.”

Murphy read a letter from her oldest daughter, whom she said is the person most affected by her crime.

“I did this for my own growth, to show my family what’s possible if you put hard work in to succeed upon release, and in order to prove to the children in my life that no bad decision is ever bad enough that you cannot be a better person every day,” she said.”

Asked about her response to her victims other than her children, Murphy said she would apologize, but she is under a no-contact order.

“I have never not been sorry that my presence was harmful,” she said. “No amount of sorry is ever enough. No amount of trying to empathize will ever understand their loss. I can never understand what losing a child is,” she said,  adding, “All I can say is that I am exceptionally sorry for their pain that will be with them.”

Asked what accountability meant to her, she said, “There’s saying sorry and then there’s doing sorry. I think everybody can say sorry. I strive to act out my remorse, and I strive to act in such a way that this terrible, terrible thing that has happened, I can do something to help somebody else because of what I had done.”

Zane, Andrew’s brother, spoke against commuting Murphy’s sentence.

“I have spent the past 10 years rebuilding, digging, and fighting to stay afloat,” said Zane. “The ripple effects caused by Natalie Murphy are still being felt to this day.”

He added, “On the day that we got some relief knowing that justice had been served, however, almost a decade later now, I feel as if my family is being suspended over an ocean of sorrow at the whim of a commutation board. Andrew will never get to know his children. He will never have a second chance to be a father due to Natalie’s actions. With this single act, the lives of everyone she touched has been irrevocably destroyed. Children, parents, and friends on both sides of this tragedy will never be the same.”

Andrew’s mother, Kimberly, also spoke against a commutation.

“Over the past 10 years, Natalie has never demonstrated what I believe to be genuine remorse for her actions or accepted responsibility for the reckless homicide of my son,” said Beverly. “To this day, she continues to characterize Andrew’s death as an accident rather than acknowledging her responsibility for what occurred.”

Kimberly expressed concern that if Murphy were released, it would cause “significant conflict and disruption to our family,” including issues of guardianship of the grandchildren and being required to interact with Murphy because of the grandchildren.   

Sammy Cole

In 2001, Sammy Cole was sentenced to 35 years of confinement and 10 years of extended community supervision after a conviction of armed robbery with threat of force. A charge of possessing a firearm as a felon was read into the case. 

The victim in the case had driven with her roommate to an ATM machine to withdraw money, where Cole, wearing a bandanna around his face, pointed a gun at her and demanded money, according to the criminal complaint in the case. After she had trouble getting money out of the ATM, he took cash from her wallet and fled the scene. 

Cole told the advisory board that he felt “profound regret and shame.” He said that he was under the “complete grip” of a severe addiction at the time and made a terrible choice. He said that saying sorry is not enough. 

“At sentencing I apologized, but that apology was worthless without some action,” Cole said. “I spent my years in prison doing all I can to be a better person, from the very beginning of my incarceration. I didn’t waste no time.”

Cole said he didn’t have a violent conduct report during his incarceration and acquired various job skills. He said that his mission was to address his addiction and the criminal behavior that supported it, and that he took rehabilitative programs. 

The victims, he said, were “out to go into their neighborhood to an ATM machine and to get money out of their account, and they was expecting not to have any harm come upon them,” Cole said. “…My sisters (were) highly upset with me that I committed this crime, and it hurt them, as females.”

Cole said that the crime was a choice he made, because “not all drug addicts go to the extreme.” He said that “somehow, they find a way, but I didn’t find that way,” and that he was deeply sorry. 

One board member asked Cole about a 2016 conduct report, where it appeared Cole had been reprimanded for drinking wine, and asked about addiction and recovery and what Cole had learned from that incident. 

Cole said he previously thought that he could still drink a beer or smoke marijuana after he got out of prison because those substances didn’t cause him the type of problems that led him to prison, but he said this wasn’t the case. He said he didn’t have a chance to drink the wine, and that it was taken out of his room.

“There will be no beer drinking…I don’t have the strength, as guys in (Narcotics Anonymous and Alcoholics Anonymous) tell me, that it could be a gateway to going right back to heroin,” Cole said. “But I strongly don’t believe heroin would ever seize me ever again.”

Michael Maldonado

Michael Maldonado, 47, a resident of Kettle Moraine Correctional Institution, is serving a life sentence for the 1994 killing of Ruben Borchardt, when he was 15. Two other boys also received lesser sentences because Maldonado was named as the shooter, but after the others were paroled from prison, one of two, Douglas Vest, said that he had been the shooter. As a result Maldonado’s  sentence was modified in 2025, pushing up his eligibility for parole from 2044 to 2025.

(Read more about Maldonado’s potential commutation in the Examiner)

Maldonado talked extensively about interacting with Borchardt’s family after his sentence modification hearing on October 9, 2025:

It was clear to him, he said, that the family continues to suffer from the loss he inflicted on them and that they continue to miss Borchardt every day.  

Maldonado said when he was sent to prison at age 16 he had made up his mind to “make the most of a bad situation and do my best to honor all the victims left in the wake of what I had done.”

He recounted taking advantage of several educational opportunities and volunteering to  frame houses for Habitat for Humanity, speaking with  at-risk youth, and training dogs for the disabled.

He  noted that he had completed  an associate’s degree with 4.0 average and been accepted into the bachelor’s program at the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay.

Maldonado also  described an extensive support system for his re-entry (including housing, employment, and legal assistance) in Wisconsin and Texas, where most of his family lives.

“In my over 30 years of incarceration, I have done my best to identify and acknowledge my faults, and I have actively worked on them in attempts to make myself a better person in the process,” he said. “I have worked to give back to the community, and I have learned so much from those opportunities.”

Christopher Smith

In 2002, Christopher Smith was sentenced to 45 years of incarceration and 15 years of extended supervision in the community after he was convicted on  three counts of armed robbery with threat of force. He was convicted as a party to the crimes, indicating that he provided aid or conspired to commit the crimes. 

A Court of Appeals opinion dated February 7, 2006 denied an appeal from Smith, stating that the trial court’s sentence was not unduly harsh. The opinion states that the trial court described the armed robberies as “‘appalling crime[s] against each of these victims,’ who had been planning their mother’s funeral, and were then confronted by armed robbers.” 

“Each perpetrator threatened each victim with a gun, and demonstrated little patience or humanity in robbing each victim,” the opinion states.

At sentencing, the trial court counted “the negative aspects of Smith’s character” against him, the opinion states. The court said Smith repeatedly attempted to deflect blame, “characterizing him as manipulative, ‘conniving,’ and ‘slick’ and found his “different versions of the robberies and his shifting degrees of involvement” to be unbelievable.  

The 2006 opinion states that the trial court was convinced Smith’s “character defects and his brazen attitude required prison because he was ‘a riskier proposition in the community.’” The court had the right to consider Smith a greater community risk because Smith failed to use opportunities for rehabilitation and had returned to criminal behavior on parole, the opinion states. 

Because of the evidence in the case, the trial court considered Smith to have more culpability than his accomplices “‘as the ringleader,’” the opinion states. 

At the hearing, Smith said he thanks God that none of the victims were hurt. He said that no weapons were used and no one was injured, but that he caused the victims hurt, shame and disappointment by his actions. He described his role as being tossed a victim’s fur coat and fleeing the scene. 

Smith said he’s completed restorative justice programming that gave him insight into the ripple effects of his actions upon others and the harm he caused. 

Cindy O’Donnell, the board’s vice chair and a former deputy secretary of the Wisconsin Department of Corrections, questioned Smith. He said he accepted responsibility for causing the victims harm. When asked to specify what he was accepting responsibility for doing, he said that he participated in the crime when he knew better, by taking the coat and fleeing the scene. 

Another board member said that Smith said in his application for commutation that it was not his decision to take part in the act, and asked for him to explain. Smith said it was a spur of the moment decision. He said he didn’t know what was going on, was tossed a coat, panicked and ran. 

A board member said it appeared that one of Smith’s co-defendants had a gun, and asked Smith whether he knew that that person had the gun before the armed robbery. 

Smith said property was taken forcefully but argued that he did not see a gun and that a gun was not found. 

Daniel Cerney

Daniel Cernye, 43, a resident of Dodge Correctional Institution, was sentenced to two  concurrent life sentences for the 1999 shooting deaths of Wiliam Leis, 51 and his 85-year-old mother, Evelyn Leis, when Cerney was 16, and he was also sentenced for burglary armed with a dangerous weapon and theft of movable property.

At the hearing, Cerney said he shot William but that an accomplice, Jimmy Grimes, killed Evelyn.

“I shot William Leis, and I take full responsibility for my actions,” he said. “I say that Jimmy told me what to do, but at the end of the day, I made my own decision to pull the trigger. I could have made a different decision. I could have even helped Evelyn. Until this day, I do not understand why I would take someone’s life, but now I see how selfish and influenced I was. It took something that tragic to show me how much I value life, and I never want to follow those types of influences ever again.”

He added, “I can never express how sorry I truly am, and every choice and decision I made that day, that night, changed many lives, even my own family.”

He recounted talking to victim family members via the restorative justice project and learning how they had been affected, including trauma and depression.  

He also described his efforts to rehabilitate his life through educational opportunities and required programming that included talking with family members. He described how  one of the victims’ family members, Mary Rezin, met with him and prayed with him, and later, after he had served 17 years, forgave him.

He recounted volunteering in the Journey Together Dog Program, training dogs for the disabled, which helped him  find purpose in life.

“One of the biggest things I learned in this program was that it wasn’t about me anymore,” he said. “It was about the dog and the client. I was a part of training two service dogs for military veterans who were diagnosed with PTSD. Being a part of those trainings and watching the client and dog mold together was the reward for me.”

He also became a mentor to other incarcerated people, sharing his experience on how to make better decisions.

“Being in all of these rehabilitative programs has taught me coping skills, communication skills, and many others. I have learned to communicate with staff,” he said, adding, “It doesn’t matter what the name of the program is; they all have tools to help us become better people and make better choices. And I’m grateful for the programs and education I have taken because they put me in situations where I needed to communicate, learn, grow, and treat everyone with respect.”

His re-entry plan includes living at a cottage his mother and stepfather own and obtaining work.

He finished by offering his perspective on his life.

“When I committed the crime, I was a different person than who I am today,” he said.  “Today, I am a new self, and I love and trust my new self. Mary helped me accomplish that. And through these 27 years since I committed my crime, I have changed.

Cerney was asked how he would face strong feelings from the public if released.

“Everyone can have an opinion of me, and I respect it,” he said, “but first and foremost, I will never ever put myself in a position to harm someone else or think bad of someone else. I’m just willing to foster my own behavior and show everybody who I am, now, today.”

A statement by Brittany, Mary’s granddaughter was read saying that Mary believes Cerney is a changed person who should be given a second chance. 

Amanda Weaver

In 2008, Amanda Weaver was sentenced to 30 years of incarceration and 20 years of extended supervision in the community, after being convicted of five counts of burglary. She told the board that she and others broke into businesses and churches to steal “money, alcohol and anything else that would bring more money.”

She said this occurred over a three-month span of time and that the group quickly went from smoking weed and drinking to using hard drugs. She said that she’d denied a leadership role in this for many years but was the oldest of the group and had a record with burglaries, and that she supported the group’s behavior rather than curbing her own actions and trying to influence those younger than her to curb theirs. 

“That behavior brought loss to others, not just the obvious financial losses, but the sense of safety and trust these people had in their community and the people living in it,” Weaver said. “That trust and sense of safety is something I cannot pay back with restitution or an apology.”

Weaver said she was motivated to start seeking real help. This led her to complete groups, schooling and therapy that are mentioned in her application for commutation, she said. She said she participated in about 40 groups, was valedictorian of her high school equivalency diploma class, and worked toward two associate’s degrees in business and ongoing intensive therapy for almost two decades. 

“It is with the tools I have gained over the years that I will re-enter society as the rehabilitated and very much changed person I have become,” Weaver said. 

Demian McDermott

Demian McDermott, 53, a resident of the Winnebago Correctional Center, received a life sentence for the October 13, 1990 killing of Francisco Questell in Milwaukee. At the time  McDermott was 18. He has spent the last 36 years behind bars.

“The ripple effect of my actions had a profound negative impact on my community as well,” he said. “Young men like me, who had no thought for the consequences and after-effects of our selfish actions, were a plague on our neighborhoods and surrounding communities. This crime did not end with the premature death of one person, but impacted the lives of everyone connected to him, to me, and changed the way people in the community felt about safety, trust in one another.”

At 25 years into his incarceration at Green Bay Correctional Institution, McDermott said, a social worker recognized that he wasn’t able to maintain the “façade” that others were to blame for his crime, and encouraged him to join a program to reach at-risk youth. Working in that program required McDermott to be honest with himself, he said. 

He talked about being sober for 28 years, earning an associate’s degree from Ohio University, working toward a bachelor’s degree, completing five vocational programs, and participating in three restorative justice programs.

He said that he had always been employed during his incarceration and had never been fired, and talked about his experience training dogs to help the visually impaired.

“Over the past 30 years, I have spent time in here as constructively and positively as possible, so I could grow in evolving to be a better person,” he said.

He talked of his re-entry plan that included a supportive family that would provide housing in Madison, and he said there were accounts set up for him to help purchase a vehicle and clothing and to cover other needs. He also said he had  work opportunities including working as a dog trainer.

“I fully understand that nothing is guaranteed in life,” he said, adding, “I have prepared myself to the best of my ability to not only survive, but thrive out in society and contribute in a positive way. I believe we live in a society that gives me second chances, but they are not an entitlement. I needed to earn one, not expect one.”

Raquel Questell, Francisco’s sister, spoke against offering McDermott a commutation.

“Since October 13, 1990, when my brother went missing, it destroyed my family’s heart, mind, and soul,” she said. “Getting the news on October 17, 1990, at the tender age of 16, was something I would have never imagined could happen, let alone in the manner he was murdered. I am here to express the agony, just knowing the possibility that Damian can be released due to the new law of the juvenile life sentence commutation that became effective April of 2026. My brother’s life is more precious than just 36 years. Damian was the ringleader to my brother’s death. He planned a day to pick up my brother since my brother did not have a car. He found a person to give him a gun.”

Francisco’s niece, Ms. Torres, who had never met her uncle, also spoke out against granting McDermott a commutation.

Lawrence Northern

In 2002, Lawrence Northern was sentenced to 30 years of incarceration and 10 years of supervision in the community for one count of possessing cocaine with intent to manufacture, distribute or deliver, and one count of being party to a crime. Northern told the board that he accepts full responsibility for his crimes without minimizing their seriousness.  

“My actions were wrong and harmful,” Northern said. “Selling drugs is not a victimless crime. It damages individuals, tears families apart, and negatively impacts communities.”

Board member Maryann Sumi, a former Dane County Circuit Court judge and chair of the Wisconsin Ethics Commission, said the list of programs and opportunities that Northern had taken was impressive. She asked him about a specific course that focused on change from within. 

Northern said that growing up, he developed a defense system and coping mechanism “that was grounded on everything wrong, believing that it was necessary to survive the streets of Chicago.”

“And so after taking that course, upon reflection, it brought me back to the core values that my mother taught me,” Northern said. “And that was to accept life on its terms, not run from them. Accept them.”

Sabir Wilcher

Sabir Wilcher, 46, a resident of Oakhill Correctional Institution was given a life sentence in 1995 when he was 15 for the killing of Elvis Anderson, 20, in Milwaukee. He has been incarcerated for 31 years.

“I can’t begin to imagine the impact of what I did to his family and the community,” Wilcher said of murdering Anderson. “To this day, I know that his family still feels the impact of their loss. Not being able to sit with him, hug, laugh, cry with him has to be a draining and sickening feeling. And I am truly, truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused them. One of the things that pains me the most is knowing that I’m the reason Mr. Anderson never got a chance to see his son grow into a man that chose to forgive the person that took his father away from him.”

Wilcher said the last 31 years have been “hard,” but he has also learned by being involved in the restorative justice program that helped him understand the impact of his actions and by taking vocational training and obtaining a bachelor’s degree from Trinity University.

He said he’s had many jobs in prison, including being the head baker and noted one of his goals on the outside is to gain more experience and operate his own bakery selling fresh baked products and helping youth learn skills that are alternatives to street life and selling drugs.

“I’ve done a lot of work trying to rehabilitate my mind from an impulsive and impressionable 15-year-old to the man that’s addressing you today,” he said.  “There were a lot of turning points in my life that made me want to change. When I first came to prison, I found myself still following behind the wrong group of people and giving the wrong people my loyalty.”

He said a time in solitary confinement caused him to reflect on his life, stop blaming others and take responsibility for his life

“I always blamed everyone but myself for being in prison, as well as everything that’s ever happened to me, I blamed God. I blamed my parents for being addicted to crack and not being there for me. I blamed the other, the older guys that I looked up to, that put me in the drug houses, that ordered me to kill Mr. Anderson,” he said.  “However, now I know that only children blame other people for their own mistakes, and being a man means making my own decisions and owning up to the mistakes that I make in life.”

He was asked why he got in trouble in prison in 2022 for a new tattoo and in 2023 for using intoxicants, and he explained those years had been at a low point in his life and he was feeling alone, and then family members became involved in his life, including his mother and siblings, and people helped him to choose a better path.

Wilcher recounted that when Anthony Anderson forgave him that he cried for the first time in prison.

“I didn’t expect that from anybody, especially not my victim’s family, and for me that was a powerful moment of my life,” he said.

The Commutations Advisory Board will hear the cases of another 12 incarcerated people on Sept. 18. 

This Friday, Michael Maldonado, 47, a resident of the Kettle Moraine Correctional Institute who has been incarcerated for 31 years for a crime he committed when he was 15, will be one of 12 applicants considered by Wisconsin Gov. Tony Evers’ Commutation Advisory Board.

Maldonado’s supporters believe he has served more than enough time for his offense and should be released from prison to enter community supervision.

In June 1995, Maldonado was sentenced for first degree intentional homicide in Jefferson County for the April 3, 1994 killing of Ruben Borchardt as part of a plot inspired by his wife, Diane Borchardt, a substitute teacher. Diane Borchardt offered a $600 reward, along with other promised gifts, for killing her husband to Doug E. Vest Jr., 16, a student at Jefferson High School, who recruited Maldonado, Vest’s younger cousin, and another student named Josh Yanke.

Maldonado claimed his role was procuring a sawed-off shotgun used in the killing, but the other two boys testified that Maldonado was also the shooter.

Maldonado was given a life sentence with the first opportunity for parole on April 3, 2044.

Both Vest and Yanke received lighter sentences on homicide charges. Vest got 25 years for first degree homicide and Yanke got 18 years for second degree homicide.

After both Vest and Yanke were paroled from prison, Vest acknowledged via letter that, in fact, he was the shooter and not Maldonado.

On October 9, 2025, Maldonado received a sentence modification, largely due to Vest’s letter, and became eligible for earlier parole; his first parole hearing was in March 2026, where he was given a deferment of 18 months before another hearing.

Maldonado is the only one of three youths who conspired to kill Borchardt who is still incarcerated.

Through a records request to the governor’s office, the Wisconsin Examiner found out  in April that Maldonado was one of two individuals the WISDOM Commutation Group, the advocacy group that has been promoting commutations by Gov. Tony Evers since 2023, had identified for consideration. Commutation is  a form of executive clemency involving a reduction or modification of a sentence.

The Examiner reached out to Maldonado for an interview, but he declined, citing what he called the “delicate process” of the commutation application and not wanting to “ruin any chances I might have.”

The WISDOM presentation said Maldonado and a second man who was also involved in a crime when he was young, “need a second chance because they received disproportionately long sentences for crimes they committed in their youth, back in the 1990s. They deserve a second chance because they have already served so much time and demonstrated so much maturity and good character that they would have qualified for parole before now if the length of their sentence had not ruled out that remedy.”

During his Oct. 9 sentence modification hearing, Robert Henak, the attorney representing Maldonado, made a similar argument before Jefferson County Circuit Judge William V. Gruber:

“Back in 1994, Wisconsin law provided that the first-degree intentional homicide sentence could be as little as 13 years, 4 months before parole eligibility. That is somebody who intentionally takes another life. Not even, you know, necessarily as a party to a crime.”

Henak noted that Vest received twice the minimum sentence at 25 years and Maldonado nearly four times the minimum at 50 years, when he would first become eligible for parole.

The WISDOM Commutation team also noted that for Wisconsin governors through the 1970s and 80s it was “common practice” to commute or reduce “the sentences of prisoners who had been convicted of serious crimes (including first-degree murder), when their behavior behind bars suggested sufficient rehabilitation to return to society as responsible, job-ready, citizens.”

In 2023, Maldonado wrote of his contrition over the crime:

“I was young and foolish, but that is no excuse for my behavior, and I am remorseful for my actions. Throughout my growth and self-identity, I have learned that freedom is a responsibility. Although I did not understand this in my youth, today I take full responsibility for my actions, and I have great appreciation for humanity.”

Maldonado provided his juvenile life sentence commutation application to the Jefferson County Clerk of Court, which the Examiner then obtained via a records request.

The application includes an 11-page memorandum prepared by Zoe Engberg of the University of Wisconsin Law School.

“Based on the erroneous belief that Mr. Maldonado was the shooter, the judge sentenced Mr. Maldonado to a significantly longer sentence than his other teenage co-defendants,” Engberg wrote. “Mr. Maldonado’s sentence was later modified in light of new evidence indicating that Douglas Vest, not Michael Maldonado, was the shooter.”

In the Oct. 9, 2025 transcript of the sentence modification, Judge William Gruber said he also believed sentencing Judge Jacqueline Erwin issued a harsher sentence for Maldonado because she perceived him as the shooter.

“Isn’t that as plain as day that Judge Erwin lengthened the period of ineligibility to parole with respect to Mr. Maldonado because her impression, based upon her exposure over the course of those trials (Vest, Yanke and Diane Borchardt), was that he’s the one who pulled the trigger?” Gruber said.

Engberg summarized Maldonado’s progress and maturation while in prison, where he took  advantage of educational opportunities, worked responsibly, and volunteered.

“Mr. Maldonado has spent his time in prison productively,” wrote Engberg. “He has received extensive praise from Dept. of Corrections staff for his work, including multiple commendations and promotions in a variety of employment positions. He has earned numerous degrees, including his HSED (High School Equivalency Diploma) , multiple vocational degrees, and his associate’s degree. He has also become deeply involved in volunteer pursuits – including building houses for Wisconsin families with Habitat for Humanity, speaking with at-risk youth and training service dogs for Wisconsin community members.”

Judge Gruber, at the sentence modification hearing in 2025, also noted that Maldonado’s “rehabilitative promise is high and I think that’s exceptional.”

Engberg noted that Maldonado had his first parole hearing in March 2026, and she contended that, under normal circumstances, denial of release at the first hearing is typical; she also contended that Maldonado would probably have to appear before the parole board several more times before being released.

“It will probably be many years before Mr. Maldonado completes the requirements imposed by the Parole Board – not because of his lack of effort or because he poses a risk if released – but because of the administrative barriers that stand in his way,” she said. “By the Parole Commission’s own admission, his conduct, program participation, and re-entry plan are all satisfactory for release. The DOC’s risk assessment places him at the lowest possible risk level. Nevertheless, it will likely be years before he is released on parole.”

Engberg also noted that Maldonado’s re-entry plan includes several housing offers, a job offer, and support from the Remington Center, part of the law school.

“Mr Maldonado’s extensive support network is a huge asset to his successful transition back to the community,” wrote Engberg.

Concerning the death of Ruben Borchardt, Maldonado wrote in his application: “Even though I didn’t personally shoot Mr. Brochardt, I am the reason that he died. If I hadn’t given Doug the gun, he wouldn’t have been able to carry out his plan. I am the reason that Mr. Borchardt is dead, just as much as if I had personally pulled the trigger.”

Maldonado recounts that after his 2025 sentence modification hearing, he met with members of the Borchardt family.

“Some of my biggest takeaways from that meeting were how much the Borchardt family continues to struggle with the very real hardships of having their loved one, Ruben (their father, son, brother, uncle, and friend), senselessly taken away from them,” he said. “I could see the sadness and heartache on their faces, and their anger was evident and justified.”

During that Oct. 9 hearing, a victim who is not named in the transcript, who identified as one of Ruben’s children, challenged Maldonado that he hadn’t publicly acknowledged the pain he had caused:

“Even today, as you stand here seeking early release, there has been no complete acknowledgment of the pain that you have caused or the life that you took. Without honesty and accountability, there can be no real healing for you, for us, or for anyone,” and the victim later added, “Your release should not come before repentance.”

The victim asked the court not to approve an early release, but to “let the sentence stand as a reminder that actions have consequences.”

Later in the same hearing, Maldonado apologized to the family and asked for forgiveness.

Asked for reasons he should be given a commutation, Maldonado wrote in his application that as a 47-year-old who has been reflecting on what he did when he was 15, he had matured into a man who is “reliable, responsible, disciplined, caring and loving.”

“Relief from a commutation would allow me to return to the community, family, and friends as a stable, employable, and fully rehabilitated adult who is prepared to contribute to the workforce and society,” he wrote. “My strongest impact will be through consistent employment and the public safety benefits that come from a structured, well-supported, planned re-entry.”

Maldonado added that he understood the “severity of his crime” and his role, but he also believed that justice had been served and would be further realized if he was given the opportunity “to further prove myself and my rehabilitative nature through being granted relief and having my sentence commuted by Governor Evers.”

The Examiner reached out to the Jefferson County District Attorney’s  victim witness program for a statement on Maldonado’s commutation application and also requested help with contacting victims who might want to make a statement. A spokesperson for the DA responded that  its policy is to not issue statements to the press or reveal third-party information. 

Maldonado’s application includes extensive documentation of his education, his volunteer work, and work history while in prison and offers specific details on his re-entry plan, including housing available and a job that is available in Milwaukee

His application also includes 23 letters of support, many from family members, as well as from others who worked with Maldonado in prison or met him while visiting relatives.  

Two letters are from parents, Mary Ann and Spriggie Hensley Sr. whose son was also incarcerated, and who got to know Maldonado over the years.

The package includes a letter from Adan Castellano of Waukegan, Illinois, who spent two years as Maldonado’s cellmate and says he has  seen him accept his circumstances and make decisions to make the best of his life.

There’s also a letter from the WISDOM Commutations Committee, including Beverly Walker, Sherry Reames, Tanya McMahon and Amanda Johnson.

“As the U.S Supreme Court and other authorities have noted, it is unjust to treat juveniles as if they were mature adults with fully developed brains and impulse control,” the WISDOM members write. “The Vera Institute of Justice argues that 15 years is usually long enough for a young offender to grow into a responsible adult. Michael has now spent over 30 years in prison — twice as long as his entire life before incarceration. We believe that he has already demonstrated his readiness for release by working hard, educating and improving himself, and making positive contributions to the community.”

A nurse at Kettle Moraine, Nicole Schwaller, who has worked with Maldonado for eight years and at the health services unit for four, said he “was always willing to tackle any tasks that were delegated to him and was trusted to work in our area because of his good conduct and work ethic.”

He also received support from a former correctional officer, Tina Bleich, who worked at Columbia Correctional Institution while Maldonado was there working in the print shop. “It is my opinion that if Michael Maldonado was released into the community, that he would not be a hazard,” she wrote. “I believe he would be a productive member of society.”

Wendy Heredia, a member of the advocacy group Justice Forward Wisconsin, said she’s known Maldonado for about eight years. She has helped him stay in touch with the outside world, including assisting with communication with his family. 

“He’s not the type of person to say, ‘I did this,’ or ‘I did that,’ or ‘Why can’t I get my second chance?” Heredia said. “He always tries to better himself in prison, because he said (that) if God’s plan was for me to stay here for the rest of my life, then that’s God’s plan, and I have to walk with that. But I want to do it the best way I can, so I can help others in their path, in their rehabilitation, so they can be successful community members.” 

Heredia said her husband was once incarcerated with Maldonado. She thinks that many juveniles with life sentences who started their time in prison stuck together. 

“All the children deserve this in Wisconsin,” Heredia said. “They deserve a second chance, a second look.”

Tom Denk, who was released from prison in 2022, told the Examiner that he met Maldonado at Kettle Moraine Correctional Institution, where they lived in the same unit of the prison for about eight months and talked on a few occasions while walking to work in the prison. Denk is the co-president of ESTHER, an advocacy group in northeast Wisconsin that works on criminal justice issues. 

While he didn’t get to know Maldonado in depth, Denk said Maldonado was soft-spoken and did not try to intimidate others or ask for special treatment, and he got the impression that other incarcerated people went to Maldonado for advice.

“If I would choose a poster boy for commutations for people that committed a crime when they were young and now deserve a chance to move on with their life, I would say that person is Mike,” Denk said. 

While consultants have recommended reforms to how Wisconsin addresses mental health in prison, the Wisconsin Department of Corrections reports obstacles in the way of many of the reforms, according to a document obtained by the Examiner. In Wisconsin’s adult prisons, nearly half of incarcerated people have a mental health diagnosis. 

“We are seeing that more and more individuals that come into our facilities are sicker than many of their peers in the community,” Jared Hoy, secretary of the Department of Corrections, said at a webinar in March. 

Hoy said he believes this is the result of a lack of affordable healthcare and mental health resources in the community. He said that people coming into the system may not have had consistent mental healthcare, meaning that clinicians are often trying to solve more advanced problems. 

“And we kind of become this safety net, to meet those needs that maybe have not been met in the community,” Hoy said. 

In November, the DOC released a report with recommendations for change to the prison system as part of its partnership with the consulting firm Falcon Correctional and Community Services, Inc. One recommendation involves keeping incarcerated people with a serious mental illness from ending up in restrictive housing — also known as solitary confinement — by instead sending them to alternative units if they commit a violation. 

The DOC reports that it is facing hurdles to implementing this proposal and some of the other recommendations for change to the prison system’s response to mental illness, according to a slideshow document received by the Examiner. 

Mental Health Director Kevin Kallas and Psychology Director Marlena Larson of the DOC presented the slideshow to a committee of the Wisconsin Mental Health Action Partnership, according to a member of MHAP who shared the document with the Examiner. The Department of Corrections did not respond to an inquiry about whether the agency produced the document. 

For some of the recommendations, the department indicated in the slideshow that it would need at least one of the following: additional staffing, material resources, new construction or remodeling, technology upgrades or significant changes to current policies or operations. Among the recommendations DOC said it needs more resources to address is sending people with a serious mental illness to a mental health unit instead of restrictive housing.

Falcon’s 137-page report stated that the majority of its recommendations will require funding, and often budget approval. 

It’s unclear whether the DOC’s understanding of what’s needed to implement the report’s recommendations has changed since agency officials presented the slideshow in March. A department spokesperson said Kallas was not available for an interview and did not respond to further requests for comment. 

It’s also unclear how much progress the DOC has made so far on putting Falcon’s ideas into action. In November, DOC communications director Beth Hardtke told the Examiner that after receiving the recommendations in the report, the DOC immediately began implementing many of the changes.

The Examiner reported last month on the process of implementing reforms laid out in the contract between the DOC and Falcon, which the Examiner obtained in mid-May. 

Susan Franzen of the prison reform advocacy group Ladies of SCI questioned the DOC slideshow’s representation that it does not have the resources to implement a proposal about providing meaningful out-of-cell time and programming to people on clinical observation. Franzen argued the agency can make change with the resources it has. Incarcerated people can be placed on clinical observation for a deteriorating mental illness or a risk of physical harm to self or others. 

“Because that seems to be a go-to all the time — of, if we have to get them out of their cell, we need more staff, we need more ‘this,’” Franzen said. “No, you need to be more creative in your scheduling and think outside the box.”

The Wisconsin DOC and many other corrections departments use  suicide-resistant cells for at-risk patients without regard for the specific causes of the individual patient’s problems, the Falcon report says. The report says that these cells are designed to minimize self-harm, but they don’t guarantee safety or provide what’s needed to reduce the patient’s risk of self-harm and help them become more resilient. 

The report promotes providing these incarcerated people with meaningful time out of their cells, as well as personalized re-assessment, treatment and programming.

Focusing on the most severe needs

Nearly half of people incarcerated in adult prisons are identified as needing mental health services, as of May 2025 — a “much higher” rate than other state correctional departments, according to the Falcon report. 

In the slideshow, DOC indicated its intent to focus more on patients with “acute needs or recurrent problematic behavior.”

An “unsustainable” number of incarcerated people have to be seen by psychological services every six months, and this interferes with the more intensive care needed for patients with higher needs, according to discussions with prison staff about mental health that were cited in the Falcon report. The report advises that the agency remove people who no longer need the infrequent appointments from the caseload.

While the report doesn’t delve into the impact of unfilled psychologist positions in the prison system,, the DOC is facing a vacancy rate of about 30% for psychological services staff.

Tom Denk was released from prison in 2022 and is now co-president of 

ESTHER, an advocacy group in northeast Wisconsin that works on criminal justice issues. He said there are more people with mental and physical illnesses in prison than outside it, and that most people in prison need some sort of care. 

“And out here, there’s a shortage of providers, so we can imagine how much more of a shortage there is when basically almost everyone really needs that kind of thing,” Denk said. 

Suicide watch 

The Falcon report includes recommendations for protocols when an incarcerated person is under observation due to a deteriorating mental illness or a risk of physical harm to self or others. In the slideshow, the DOC indicated the agency could implement a proposal to replace small sleeping mats with suicide-resistant mattresses.

The agency labeled the following recommendations in red, indicating there are obstacles to implementing them:  

• Moving clinical observation rooms out of restrictive housing and into more appropriate environments 
• Providing meaningful out-of-cell time and programming
• Reducing restraint use through increased use of one-on-one observation by staff
• Analyzing why someone ends up in suicide observation and developing targeted interventions 

At one of Wisconsin’s oldest prisons, Green Bay Correctional Institution, almost three quarters of incarcerated people have a mental illness diagnosis, as of a fiscal year 2025 report. 

Former GBCI officer Jeff Hoffman told the Examiner that he was the assigned sergeant in the restrictive housing unit, and saw these issues “up close and personal.”

“Staff working on these units aren’t properly trained to understand and deal with these individuals,” said Hoffman, who left the prison in early 2023 after almost 23 years. “We were trained in the security aspect. Not mental health.” 

Hoffman added that staffing levels are a concern, with staff either being too few in number or too tired from extra hours of work, and that mental health is an issue for staff and healthcare workers as well as incarcerated people. 

DOC policy states that adult prisons must provide at least six hours of mental health training to security staff at the start of their employment, including for suicide prevention, symptoms of mental illness and proper response to incarcerated people with mental health problems. Adult prisons are required to provide training to new employees on preventing staff suicide.

Adult prison staff who have contact with incarcerated people take an annual update training in suicide prevention, and prisons are required to conduct quarterly drills simulating staff members’ response to a suicide attempt by an incarcerated person. 

Green Bay Correctional saw “a large number” of episodes of self-harming and/or disruptive behavior, according to GBCI’s annual report for fiscal year 2025. The report attributes this to the “unique features” of the incarcerated population there, which reportedly includes a high number of young men, many of whom have “poor coping skills with lengthy prison sentences.” 

Suicide attempts, self-harm behaviors and threats of self harm have historically led to a high number of placements of incarcerated people on observation at the prison, the GBCI report said. There was a “drastic upward trend” in these placements in fiscal year 2025, with 900 observation placements to date, the GBCI report said. 

Hoffman said that staff frequently have to move incarcerated people to suicide observation for making false claims that they are going to commit suicide. According to psychologist and jail suicide expert Lisa Boesky, incarcerated people might resort to this as an attempt to be moved out of a chaotic housing unit or away from a cellmate, for example. Meanwhile, the rise in suicide threats within the prison puts additional pressure on the system. 

Solitary confinement 

In the slideshow, a few proposals for reform of restrictive housing — also called solitary confinement — were labeled green, meaning that the department could significantly implement those ideas. 

The Examiner reported last year on how the Department of Corrections employs incarcerated peer specialists to mentor their fellow prisoners. The department said it could review how certified peer specialists are used in restrictive housing units and expand their role. The agency also indicated it could continue efforts to limit the amount of time incarcerated people spend in solitary.

Denk said he didn’t hear about peer support when he was in prison, but that it’s a great help to staff and incarcerated people.

“I wish there was even more of that, because when it comes to clinical staff, there’s only so many of them,” Denk said. 

The following solitary confinement proposals were labeled red, meaning there are obstacles to implementing them:

• Providing each incarcerated person with at least two hours of time outside their cell each day. 
• Tracking how much time incarcerated people spend outside their cells in real time, and tracking their participation in programming. 
• Staff from different disciplines reviewing the “status, programming and needs” of people in solitary each week, instead of every 30 days. Under current policy, if a person has a solitary sentence of 60 days or more and a serious mental illness — such as schizophrenia or clinical depression — reviews must take place at least every other week.

Under another proposal marked red, the department would have a method to understand the root causes behind why an incarcerated person is repeatedly being placed in solitary confinement. Prison staff would develop individualized plans for these people to try to break the cycle. 

For example, if a person keeps ending up in solitary because they have received threats and fear the area of the prison where the general population of incarcerated people live, staff could work with the person to identify specific areas where they would feel safe, the Falcon report suggests.

Over two-thirds of people sent to restrictive housing for over 120 days were on the department’s lists of people identified to be receiving mental health services, the report found; 17% of people sent for over 120 days met the definition of having a “serious mental illness,” such as schizophrenia or clinical depression.

Incarcerated people can be placed in solitary due to safety concerns about them staying in the general population, but most placements are punishment for a violation.