Young killer has lots to learn upon release from prison

Curtis Jones was disheartened that he could not take his Nintendo into prison with him when at the age of 12 he was sentenced to 18 years of incarceration and a lifetime of probation for plotting and then carrying out a murder with his 13-year-old sister Catherine.

The siblings lost their freedom in 1999 — two years before the Xbox made its way to retail stores. Curtis missed out on the various incarnations of the PlayStation consoles two, three and four. With no cable television in the state prisons, it’s safe to assume he’s never watched a single episode of Family Guy or SpongeBob Squarepants, both of which debuted in 1999.

That was the year the duo hatched a plot to kill a male relative they claim had been sexually abusing them. They planned to kill their father and his girlfriend, Sonya Nicole Speights, because they felt their cries for help were being ignored. They found themselves alone at home with Speights and

decided to kill her first. But after shooting her. they panicked and ran off into woods near their Port St. John home, where they were apprehended the following morning.

On Tuesday, Curtis Jones will walk through the gates of South Bay Correctional Facility just south of Lake Okeechobee, a free man for the first time. A world of change and adjustment awaits. Jones, who did not want to comment for this story, has never had to cook his own meals, shop for his own clothes, balance a checkbook, look for a job, send out a resume, hunt for an apartment, pick a cell phone plan, buy furniture, learn to drive or figure out how to take public transportation.

Where does he start? Will he, like so many others, find his way back to prison?

“The problem is that he has spent all this time in there from a young age and that is a hard one to come back from,” said Joe Robinson, executive director of the North Brevard Sharing Center, which offers various services for recently released offenders. “Because he went in so young, did he have a chance to learn enough about life to retain any of it?”

Robinson, who also runs a prison ministry on the weekends, said his biggest fear is that Jones has become a product of the prison system. He relayed the story of a 26-year-old inmate who had been in and out of custody from the age of 12. When he was finally released, he lasted only three months on the outside.

“He couldn’t deal with the freedom and having to make every decision,” Robinson said. “You are relegated to a small box of thinking and that can really be a hazard to an individual.”

Torres: Is a fresh start possible for young Brevard killer

That’s where the Department of Corrections Office of Re-Entry works to prepare soon-to-be-released inmates for life on the outside. Every released inmate receives a $50 debit card and a bus ticket back to the offending county unless there is family elsewhere willing to take them in.

The Florida Department of Corrections boasts a three-phase approach to a program known as TCPI or Transition from Prison to Community Initiative. They are: getting ready, going home and staying home. In theory, a half-year before the inmate’s scheduled release date, a comprehensive case management transition plan is developed which includes housing, employment opportunities, family reunification and continuity of mental health or medical care.

The re-entry process officially begins three years from an inmate’s release and intensifies during the final six months with a 100-hour class where they learn basic types of everyday skills from using a computer and a cell phone to managing money and career assessment.

Inmates are given packets with examples of cover letters, resumes and information for perspective employers regarding benefits of hiring ex-offenders, such as the Work Opportunity Tax Credit, as well as protection offered by the Workforce Development Federal Bonding, free insurance for employers against dishonesty of ex-offenders and other high-risk applicants.

They are also given a “Transition Assistance Passport” booklet where they can keep pertinent personal information all in one place, such as bank account numbers, a driver’s license number, doctors’ phone numbers, budgetary worksheets and the names and phone numbers of friends they can count on in case things start going south for them.

But, according to DOC officials, the push has been to get the re-entry process started even sooner.

“It actually starts on day one,” said Kim Riley, director of re-entry. “They have to start planning for their release at that point. We’re going to start the process even earlier to ensure we are returning an individual who will be a functioning member of society.”

Jones’ sister, Catherine, is due out in a few weeks and will have a ready-made support system in a husband. Senior Chief Ramous K. Fleming of the U.S. Navy began writing Catherine after reading her story several years ago. He started visiting her and after cupid struck, the couple married on Nov. 27, 2013, in the chapel at the Hernando Correctional Institution.

Curtis’ visitors over the years have included his father, his mother Stacie Parks, a cousin, his grandmother and a few personal friends. According to the DOC, he has not been disciplined for any rule infractions since 2008. Curtis is now an ordained minister.

Torres: Documents unveil history of abuse for young Brevard killers

“It's a tough transition for anyone as freedom can be stressful,” said Melbourne attorney Kepler Funk, who represented Catherine with partner Keith Szachacz. “ Freedom requires discipline while institutional life eliminates many choices one has while free. Hopefully Cathy will make good choices and will seek help when it gets tough. She was a very intelligent young girl when Keith and I represented her. We have no doubts that she'll thrive with this second opportunity at being a productive, God-fearing member of our community. We're so glad she didn't receive a life sentence.”

That life sentence was a real possibility when the siblings became the youngest children in the country to be charged with first degree murder as adults. Instead of risking that at trial, their attorneys worked out a plea to second-degree murder with a sentence of 18 years and probation for life.

Torres: Mother murdered 16 years ago, daughters still ask why

Melbourne attorney Alan Landman remembers meeting Curtis for the first time in the jail at Sharpes as he was preparing to represent him and being “shocked” at how small the child was.

“I got the distinct impression that he never knew the true consequences of his actions or fully appreciated how his life had changed due to same,” Landman said. “He always kept thinking that he would just be able to go home as though he was going to be reprimanded with no further penalties. His mind was truly that of a child.”

Landman said Curtis never revealed that he had been a victim of abuse and that information would have certainly changed his defense strategy.

“It was only in recent years that I have read and seen media reports and newspaper articles about the horrendous physical and emotional abuse that he and his sister suffered,” Landman said, speculating that Curtis and Catherine shared a “pact of silence” that for some reason they thought would help them. “Had I known of the abuse I certainly could have explored same as a possible defense or further mitigation to the crimes as charged. Who knows as to whether or not it could have led to an acquittal or a further reduced sentence. One can only speculate due to the non-disclosures.”

Ashley Nellis, senior research analyst with the Sentencing Project — a Washington D.C.-based advocacy group working to promote changes in sentencing policy among other reforms related to incarceration, said it will take the support of friends to help Curtis and Catherine adjust to the real world.

“Spending a long period of time in prison — especially as a child — is bound to present challenges upon re-entry and it's not clear that the Department of Corrections has equipped either sibling with resources or tools to support them upon their freedom,” Nellis said. “It is obvious from their stories, however, that these two are extremely strong and resilient individuals with a desire for a new life free from the torture they endured as youngsters. While neither one has experienced many of the tasks of daily living that we take for granted — driving a car, shopping for clothes, managing personal finances — these are things that can be learned and I have no doubt that they will do just that.”

Florida State University Law professor Paolo Annino, who represented the children during an unsuccessful clemency effort and still does, has introduced legislation over the years to change how minors are charged.

“Twelve-year-old and 13-year-old children are children,” he said. “And as every parent knows, children are different from adults. Unlike the vast majority of other states we have no minimum age for indictment. A 5-year-old could be indicted in Florida.”

Contact Torres at 321-242-3684 or at jtorres@floridatoday.com. Don’t forget to follow him on Twitter @johnalbertorres or on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/FTjohntorres.