Death By Imprisonment Leads to a Second Chance at Life

As kids, we often look up to our older siblings as an example of how we should be in the world. That was the case for Jason Hernandez, who grew up in the 90s in McKinney, Texas. 

For several years, Jason had watched his older brother, J.J., sell weed in their local community. J.J. was respected, feared, and he always had plenty of cash on him. Jason wanted the same for himself. At 15, Jason was finally able to get his hands on his own supply of weed and began selling it.

It wasn’t long before Jason’s older brother was sent to prison on drug charges. While this was a definite blow to the Hernandez family, for Jason, it was an opportunity to take over his brother’s business. The now 16-year-old was officially running a large drug distribution ring, earning thousands each month and showing up to school with gold watches and rings on every finger. 

In the coming years, Jason would branch out and begin selling cocaine, crank and finally crack. He was finally getting the respect and envy his older brother had gotten and it felt fantastic. Jason knew this was the life he was meant to live.

The FBI Comes Calling

The more of a bigshot Jason became, the more he feared the cops – or one of his friends – was going to set him up. He became paranoid, anxious and unbearably unhappy. He desperately wanted to stop selling drugs, but it’s not exactly the lifestyle one simply steps out of. And besides, he didn’t know how to do anything else.

His paranoia finally became reality when on one rainy night, as he was visiting his parents’ house, 30 or more federal agents showed up, guns drawn. Jason was relieved. They got him – it was over. He’d get a good lawyer, fight the charges, be out in no time and start his life over again.

But Jason was just about to find out that life doesn’t always go according to our plans or assumptions. Instead of getting a plea-bargain and a minimal sentence, Jason got a life sentence without parole PLUS 320 years. That’s what happens when friends and family testify against you – sometimes with the truth, sometimes not - to lessen their own sentences. 

Jason was going away, and he was never coming back.

Stepping into the grave

The idea of life without parole was bad enough. But when Jason was transported to the federal prison, with its 25-foot-high walls - barbed wire on top - and nothing but concrete as far as the eye could see, he realized the rest of his life would be void of beauty, joy, or hope.

He also learned very quickly how dangerous life for inmates could be. On one of his first nights in prison, he witnessed a murder. And it wouldn’t be his first time seeing one inmate stab, strangle or beat another inmate to death.

Jason did his best to stay safe and stay sane. But his sanity was tested beyond measure one day when he received a phone call. His father was on the other end of the line, sobbing uncontrollably. Jason’s older brother J.J. had been murdered in another prison trying to help a friend fend off three gang members.

That phone call and the weeks of grief and shock that followed were a turning point for Jason. He couldn’t help but take a harsh look at his life and wonder how he got there. Were he and his brother really born to live – and die – in prison? Was this all his life would amount to? Did he have another purpose?

Passion is stirred

J.J.s death had sparked a fiery passion inside Jason. He began taking paralegal classes and law classes. He was going to do his own legal work and get himself out.

Jason soon began acting as a sort of jailhouse attorney, helping other inmates file appeals as he filed his own. In speaking with the other inmates who were in for life without parole, he realized 15 out of the 17 were minorities who had non-violent drug offenses, just like he did. 

His passion was kicked up a notch. He now wanted to help his fellow inmates who were also destined to rot in prison simply for making some wrong decisions in life. 

Jason started a website called Crack Open the Door, sharing stories with the outside world, hoping someone somewhere would read them and want to join the fight in righting this injustice. He did eventually manage to get someone from the ACLU to write a report called “Life Without Parole: A Living Death,” but not much really came of that.

Jason learned how dismissive Appeals Courts can be. As he explained, "Most of his Appeals resulted in one-sentence denials." But he persevered. What was fueling him? He visualized what life would look like on the outside. And, of course, he turned the pain of the loss of his brother into his fuel to keep plugging away day after day, the rejection notwithstanding.

A long-shot pays off

Jason only had one shot left to get himself out and help others like him, and that was to ask for clemency. He knew it was a long shot; he could tell when his counselor laughed out loud at the idea. But when you literally have no other options than to write a letter to the President of the United States of America asking for help, you grab the nearest pen and pour your heart out on paper.  Jason proved to have a knack for articulating a compelling Clemency request—so much so, people asked him which attorney-prepared his Clemency petition.  A testament to his faith, Jason labored over his Clemency petition for six months. In the end, it was an investment that paid extraordinary dividends, well worth the effort.

A Christmas Miracle and a Second Chance at Life

On December 19, 2013, after having already served 16 years in prison, Jason was given a gift like no other. There had been an executive order from President Barack Obama commuting Jason’s life sentence without parole. Jason dropped to his knees in tears, eternally grateful to be given a second chance at life. The prison officials even hugged and congratulated him.

Beauty for Ashes

The Bible talks about God giving one beauty for ashes. Jason exemplifies this promise.

Armed with a new perspective and a heart overflowing with gratitude, Jason devotes his life to helping others

Since his release, Jason has authored “Get Clemency Now,” a guidebook for helping prisoners and their family file for clemency, an invaluable road map that gives federal prisoners a much-needed framework to prepare a cogent Clemency request that has substance.  So far Jason has assisted over half a dozen people receive clemency under the Obama and Trump administrations.

A leading voice and advocate for justice reform, Jason is currently creating a leadership program for Latino high school students in his hometown of McKinney. 

He also sits on the board of Buried Alive, a powerful advocacy group led by criminal justice warrior Brittany K. Barnett.

Jason's efforts to change lives for the better don't stop at helping prisoners—he also helps steer children and young teens on the right path by using his experiences to bring hard-won insight to their lives. He endeavors to teach them valuable life principles before they take a wrong turn.

In short, the guy is amazing.  And this blog simply does not capture the true extent of his efforts.  He uses his new heart and fresh eyes and horrible experiences to help powerless people. He is a walking, talking endorsement for Clemency.

Jason fully recognizes he should have been buried alive; he should have died in prison. But instead, he was given a second chance at life, and he’s determined to use his life to save as many other lives as he possibly can. 

An inspiration to others

I, the author, am in federal prison, currently serving a 90-year federal prison sentence (30 years to be served), for a nonviolent, low-level offense. Jason is an inspiration to me. He and I have a lot of parallels. We both lived in McKinney during the same time. We both served time at Beaumont Penitentiary. I, like Jason, have devoted my life on the inside to help other prisoners fight for their freedom, something that I live and breathe.  I know what hopelessness feels like, so does Jason. And every year the more attempts I make to get out of prison, the more the courts swat me away like a pesky fly. I've been beaten down. My spirit has been crushed. I've been spit on and kicked and shoved in the dirt (figuratively). I have struggled to get out of bed. I've heard whispers that my efforts to get out of prison are futile. But I persist because of Jason. His story fills me with hope—he, in fact, gives hope a face, making it tangible. And when I win my freedom through Clemency—a promise that God has put in my heart—like Jason, I will devote my life to helping others.  

Jason had every reason to be bitter and give up. He could have continued to embrace the prison culture and talked himself out of fighting for his freedom. But he sent that letter to President Obama out of faith. He planted a seed and he reaped a harvest. His story should give anyone who is in a seemingly hopeless situation hope. Everything can change in a day—everything.

When I'm feeling down and overwhelmed by the mountain I'm trying to move—winning my freedom—I pray and read Jason's story and, like medicine, it renews me.

Like the Clemency toolkit, Jason created, his life after prison is a model for me. And like Jason, I visualized me walking out of this prison and living a life full of substance, a second chance I wouldn't dream of squandering. On paper, I have about two decades left on my sentence, but I will be walking out of here soon. And I will finally get to thank Jason for the inspiration he gave me.