Because the warden will testify on my behalf: I have been a model prisoner.

Because the chaplain will testify on my behalf: I have welcomed Jesus Christ into my heart.

Because I have served fifty-one years in prison. Because I have been rejected for parole fifteen times.

Because I am seventy years old, I am no longer nineteen years old.

Because I cannot remember who I was when I was nineteen years old.

Because I regret all that I was commanded to do in August 1969.

Because the person I hurt most at that terrible time was—myself.

Why am I requesting parole?—because (I believe) I have paid what is called my debt to society.

Because I have completed college while in prison. I have a community college degree, Chino Valley Community College.

Because I have taught generations of inmates to read and write.

Because I have assisted the arts and crafts instructors and they have praised me.

(I love the thrill of power, making lesser beings my slaves.)

Because I have goodness in my heart that yearns to be released into the world.

Because I would make amends.

Because I am an example to the younger women.

Because I am the oldest woman prisoner in California, and there is shame in this.

Because the other prisoners are all younger than I am, and they pity me.

Because I am not a threat to society.

Because I was a battered woman and did not realize.

Because all that happened in 1969 happened because of that.

Because it was not fair, and is not fair.

Because the person I hurt most was—myself.

Why am I requesting parole?—Because Jesus has come into my heart, and He has forgiven me.

Because Jesus understood, it was the Devil who guided my hand to smite the innocent with evil intent.

Because the Devil whispered to us—Do something witchy!

Because I had no choice, I had to obey.

Because he would have punished me if I did not.

Because he would have ceased to love me if I did not.

Because he has passed away now and left me with this (swastika) scar on my forehead.

Because, seeing this scar I have borne for fifty-one years, you will judge me harshly.

Because the person he hurt most was—me.

Because I was abused by others.

Because I was trusting in my heart, and so I was abused by others.

Because I was abused by him.

Because I was weak-willed. Because I was a victim of what the therapist has called low self-esteem.

Because I was starving, and he gave me nourishment.

Because he asked of me—Don’t you know who I am?

Because I dissolved into tears before him at such words. Because all my life I had been awaiting such words.

Because the Family welcomed me, at his bidding.