Meet The Founder of Mercy Me 924c - Ian Owens
Only God knows the heaviness of my heart as I begin to write these words. Just the thought of writing from this standpoint is causing me to look back at my life and the many experiences I have lived through. The heaviness, this morning is deeper than the realities of unfulfilled potential. It’s deeper than the prison and injustices. And yet this heaviness is nothing in comparison to what some people have had to suffer through due to my actions and poor decision making. One of my biggest problems results from recognizing the problems that I have caused for others. Problems that have forever impacted the lives of people both known and unknown. The ramifications from my actions cannot be changed or wiped away.
The reckless decisions I've made were inspired by nothing but selfishness, greed, laziness and immaturity. In life, a man has the right to make choices, but when his choices lead to criminal behavior, he begins posing a threat to others, and this individual becomes a danger to society. Had someone told me about a person like this 15 or 20 years ago, I probably would have suggested that this individual be sent to prison for a very longtime. In the core of my mind, I would have thrown this individual into the category with every other criminal.
I think what I am trying to say is that I understand. I understand that with nothing on the table but knowledge of my past criminal behavior, opinions like this will be common. However, I speak from the center of my of my soul, even at the point of engaging in these wrongful acts, these choices were not a true reflection of my heart. Furthermore, those thoughts and actions most certainly do not reflect the man I am today. I sincerely pray that as you read on, you will do so with an open mind as I share my testimony.
My name is Ian Aza Jerome Owens. I was born in Chicago, IL on October 3, 1978 to Mariann Owens and Jerome Jackson. Growing up, I experienced a pretty normal childhood. I was blessed with the most incredible woman and mother ever created. She nurtured, fed, clothed, taught and supported our family, which eventually expanded to three children in all. Life in Chicago was very brief. In fact, my mom, sister, step-father and I moved to Lansing, MI several months shy of my sixth birthday.
Shortly after we arrived, my mother and I separated. We managed to get settled in and begin our new lives. I have never known my biological father and though my stepfather was around very infrequently, I hardly felt handicapped because of the remarkable job my mom did of understanding the role of both parents. This role I will never be able to praise her enough for. She didn’t abandon our home or put anybody or anything ahead of her children. There weren’t any men coming in and out of our house either. She has always been a homebody. It was just my mother, sister and I until my littler brother was born in 1989. He was a product of adoption. My mother, who by nature is a full-fledged humanitarian, adopted him before he was born and brought him home directly from the hospital.
By this time, my mom was either working two jobs or very hard at one. She didn’t have a degree or a high level of formal education but she always maintained employment and managed our home. At this time, I was eleven going on twelve and life was gearing up for me. Throughout elementary school I showed no flaws from learning standpoint. Actually, I was ahead of most with Math, reading and comprehension skills. It wasn’t until middle school that I became the untamed class clown, trading in good grades for good laughs. I spent more days entertaining rather than being educated. My focus was gone. I wasn’t cutting class or anything like that, I was probably worse. I actually went to school everyday and did nothing but play around. This was the theme throughout sixth, seventh and eighth grade. Over the course of these years, I started doing some shameful things like stealing video games from friends, shoplifting from stores. Sometime during eighth grade, I smoked marijuana for the first time. Needless to say, but this was more likely the beginning of the end for me.
I eventually did just enough work to graduate into high school. At the end of middle school, I was 6’3 and had developed a passion for basketball. The game came easily and often times became an outlet for me. Around this time, I wasn’t interested in stealing or shoplifting anymore. I never really liked smoking weed so this wasn’t a vice either. I eventually started selling it, which fortunately was very small-time and short-lived because I wasn’t good at managing money.
So my life slowly and surely began to revolve around basketball and girls. I wasn’t applying myself academically. I performed awfully, skipping classes and sometimes school altogether. I don’t know what was going on in my head, but in reflecting back, it’s quite clear that something was wrong. This something would only get worse with time.
A lot of people might question where my mom was and I have to say that she was always home. She wasn't out running the streets or anything like that. She labored everyday so that we had everything we needed and some of the things we wanted. We never knew the feeling of being without lights, heat, water or food. We may have gone without a phone or cable television at times but never lacked the essentials. In answering this question, I have to say that my mother was boggled down with the task of raising three children by herself. Anybody who knows her knows that she wasn’t void as a disciplinarian. Thanks mom. She chose a path early on in her life and on that path, she forfeited her education, yet she was far from dense. We weren’t allowed to get away with much, but I have to admit that it was probably a lot easier to fly under the radar academically because of her lack of experience here. It’s extremely different to preach a message in which one has very little or no understanding. Even in saying all this, the truth is that I chose this path myself. My lackadaisical approach to my middle and high school education was no body’s fault but mine.
Ninth grade really flew by for me. I did very well on the basketball court yet poorly in the classroom. And make no mistake about it; I wasn’t dumb, illiterate or suffering from any kind of learning disability. I just wasn’t focused or applying myself. It was sort of weird to others how I could miss a class or two for a week straight but come back and fit in without any struggle. At times, I began to lean on this ability. It became somewhat of a negative rut for me. By the end of the school year I found out that I wouldn’t be eligible to play ball the following year because my grade point average was already too low. This news crushed me, sending me in an entirely different direction.
At the age of fifteen, I began drinking alcohol. Really it’s ironic that I went this route because up until that point, I completely despised alcohol. For years, I watched the ill-effects that alcohol had on my stepfather and so many others, which led to me cursing it. That was until I had my first significant experience. From that pint on, drinking became a very regular thing for me. At that time, it was fun. It helped me hide behind the reality that I was failing in school, not able to play ball because of poor grades and in need of change.
School became an afterthought by the middle of my sophomore year; I was drinking more and getting into fights regularly. Alcohol had this way of transforming me and my emotions. It was a very disgraceful and embarrassing period for me. I was really going through it because I couldn’t play basketball. Nobody knew this.
“The only pain and pressure worse than performing under your potential is that which comes from you peers, those who are around daily sub-consciously reminding you of who you are” - Ian Owens
I believe that the attention and notoriety I lacked from not being able to play ball, led to me seeking it from the streets. I spent more and more time being angry about my life, but at that time, I couldn’t recognize these truths.
By the time I reached my senior year, I hadn’t really accomplished anything. Id’ just missed two straight seasons of basketball because I wasn’t going to school and would have missed my final year if it hadn’t been for a coach with a vision. The summer going into twelfth grade, I received a phone message from a man who identified himself as a basketball coach from a new high school. He promised that if I transferred schools I would be eligible to play immediately. At first I rejected the idea because going to school was in conflict with where I was at that point in my life. I was too comfortable to think about starting over with new expectations. It just didn’t feel right. Soon after hearing from the coach, I began getting calls from other guys wanting me to transfer also. Up until that point, I hadn’t played in a meaningful game in more than two years. I was able to play in various summer leagues and AAU tournaments, but nothing close to the opportunity on the table. Despite being ineligible, I received state rankings and a slew of scholarship offers.
In contemplating whether to transfer, I talked it over with my mom and she support me going. However, upon enrolling and attempting to get started with school, the school itself was dealing with their own setbacks. They were hardly ready to function or offer quality education. We didn’t have books or any form of curriculum. It was chaos and among the chaos, I found myself doing the same things that destroyed the previous three or four years of my life. I was skipping school more than ever, drinking heavier, partying and fighting. I wasn’t at all serious about life. I lived for the moment and thought of no one or nothing but myself. I had some serious issues that most people just didn’t know about.
Eventually, the school found some sense of order and I struggled to get to that point. The basketball season began and that helped some. As the school year progressed, I had more people than ever in my ear about going to college. I was having a lot of success on the court and with this success, came even more attention from college recruiters. Although the thought of going to school crossed my mind, the truth about my grades and the reality of being a poor student kept these thoughts within their limits. A lot of people think of becoming engineers but their short coming in mathematics have a way of diffusing their thoughts and hopes.
During the school year, I experienced a lot of thing for the first time. The most memorable were my two arrests for being a minor in possession and consumption of alcohol. On two separate occasions, I drank and became disorderly to the point of arrest. I had never been arrested and owned no juvenile record; just like that, I am in the backseat of a police car. The second arrest really did something to me. Some sort of light came on. And though I didn’t change completely, I did start looking at life differently. I slowed my drinking, stayed home more and focused on school. I really began entertaining the idea of accepting one of these scholarships to college. I was hearing from coaches all over the country. The more they called and sent letters, the more I perked up and started believing in myself. Unfortunately, a lot of Universities had to pass on me once they found out how low my grade point average was. It became apparent that I would have to go to a junior college first, strengthen my academics and then attend a four year University.
Quite a few Universities stuck by me and wanted me to attend junior colleges within their state or somewhere close. This would prevent transfer issues after completing my two-year junior college term. As I felt my life taking form, I moved with more purpose. I was flying and driving to different colleges; gaining insight on the next phase in my life. For the first time, I felt myself growing up. The entire experience was surreal. I wound up visiting Fort Scott Community College located in Fort Scott, KS. This visit led to me signing a basketball contract with their school. I was very excited about finishing High-School and making it through the summer. I was eager to get back to Kansas, begin school and redeeming my life.
The summer of 1997 was a busy one. This summer was filled with things kids do when preparing to leave home for the first time. Those few months were spent with family and friends. This enjoyment was not void of incident. Two weeks prior to my departure, an attempted assault. I became a responsible party and charged with the crime because I was driving the vehicle that carried the culprits. Unplanned and completely out of my knowledge, the two passengers began firing gun rounds. Thankfully, no one was injured. After the incident, I surrendered myself and disclosed my full involvement. The legal authorities made it very clear that they knew I had no involvement with the shooting. The police shared that they knew I did not play a role in the shooting but was charged for not disclosing the names of those who did. Witnessing what I witnessed, I was afraid to talk. I was afraid to give names. Keeping my mouth shut resulted in my first and only felonious conviction, prior to my current circumstance.
Shortly after this horrible experience, I went to school in Kansas. In short, college went well for me. I stayed in Kansas for one semester. That was how long it took me to realize I had better opportunities in Kansas. Prior to my transfer, I made great strides academically. On the basketball court, I was better than ever. As a freshman, I was leading the team in points, rebounds, blocks and field goal percentages. I’d also won MVP of a major tournament. My life and future seemed destined for success. I moved from Kansas to Howard College in Texas. At Howard, I spent three semesters maturing as a man, student and athlete. At the completion of my third semester, I transferred back home to Lansing Community College with the intention of signing with Michigan State University. This return home would become detrimental.
Upon arriving home, I was introduced to an individual who I’d seen time to time. The streets were well aware of who he was and his lifestyle. This individual and I played basketball at some of the same places in our small community. He saw my talent and began taking a liking to me. He befriended me immediately. He was like a big brother I never had. He began flaunting himself as my agent and assuring others that I was the best player on the court. While playing for Lansing Community College, he began creating profitable opportunities and was ready to capitalize on any opportunity that presented itself. Whatever profit he made, he made sure I was taken care of. Most would say he was just using me. My desperation to have a big brother wouldn’t let me see that.
Eventually, he took a loss on a great sum of money. This money was confiscated by the police. He was strained and needed to find a quick way to come up with the money. This led to him and his girlfriend setting up a plan to rob a bank. When they tried to fill me in on the play, I told him he was crazy. I was committed to avoiding this type of venture. At the time, it was by far the most ignorant thing I could imagine. Nevertheless, they went through with it and got away with it. When they told me how much they’d yielded, I was shocked. But for him, it was not enough.
Over the next few months, he did everything possible to convince me he and I could collaborate on the crime and rob a bank together. He began reminding me of how much he’d been there for me; of how much he’d done for me. I was never one to fall prey to persuasion or peer pressure but I eventually decided to try it. For the record, I did not choose to go along with this because of an immense amount of pressure, nor was I forced. I did not go for a violent rush. God knows I went because I saw the potential of having a lump sum of money and I allowed that greed to skew my reality and void my previous commit of not getting involved.
Leading up to the crime, they began to make plans and I listened. Preparations were made and I assumed my role. I had never been so scared in my entire life. The robbery was planned as a ‘take-over’ manner. This included a lot of yelling and cursing and threats. Never in my heart and soul had I intended on harming anyone. The Lord knows this even better than I do.
In November of 2000, I participated in the first of what would be four bank robberies. Each robbery was hostile and aggressive. They were intimidating, un-nerving and intense. Just as much as anything else of this nature, these robberies were foremost; idiotic, compromising, painful and senseless. During this period, it was really difficult for me to understand the impact these events would have on so many others. My ignorance and selfishness blinded me and all I saw was financial gain. These crimes were evil and destructive.
In August 15 2002, I was arrested. I was initially charged with one bank robbery. The prosecutor of the case sent word that through my attorney that he wanted to meet with me in person. I was skeptical and overly worried. I had never been involved with the law to this magnitude. The FBI and local authorities had shared with my mother that I was facing a few years. This was contingent to a guilty plea and consistency of honesty. The prosecutor also informed my attorney that if I waived my bond hearing, he would avoid prosecuting me under the 924(c) statue. Being ignorant to law, I had no idea what a 924(c) was. I didn’t know the difference between a 924 (c) and a 401K. Looking back at that offer now, it sounds improbable. For sake of scenario, say the prosecutors intentions were waive any 924 (C) violations. Couple this with the Special Agents case statement of me being a good kid who got caught up and over the course of the investigation he couldn’t find anyone in the community to mention any negative remarks about me. This should be a testament that I am not some violent thug with no regard for humanity.
In hindsight, I clearly understand that they were trying to lighten this heavy load. I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone during this unfamiliar process. I wound up declining the prosecutor’s request for a visit. Almost immediately, the counts of my indictment increased from one to fourteen. I was charged with all four robberies, a carjacking that I didn’t commit five-counts of 924(C), two additional firearm counts and two counts of conspiracy to commit the same robberies. I was later convicted of thirteen of the fourteen counts and sentenced to 117 years and 7 months. 105 of these years were assigned due to improper merging of the 924(C) violations. The framework of my case mirrors the Simpson vs. United States case while the sentencing reflects that of United States vs. Angelos.
Two-years after my conviction, I appealed my convictions and sentence. In light of United States vs. Booker, 125 s.ct.738 (2005), I was granted a hearing to remand my sentence. This case uplifted the mandatory imposition of the United States Sentencing Guidelines, allowing the judge the authority to enter a sentence at his discretion. Unfortunately, the Judge could not adjust a sentence with a statue that holds a mandatory minimum penalty; in my case, the 924 (C) statue. My Judge wanted to do what the Honorable Paul Cassell and many other Judges wanted to do; disarm the devastating grip that statue 924(c) has on convictions that are not recidivists (repeat offenders of the 924(c)). Judges do not have the power to change how this statue is can be applied. They are required to enforce it. As a result, I left the appeals court with nearly the same heavy sentence I entered with.
For over nine years, I have questioned the process of the 924(c) statue and how it is applied. I, Ian Aza Jerome Owens, recognize that I have made a number of extremely terrible choices that have aided my being in prison. I take responsibility for my actions and my involvement. At a young age, I made a terrible choice to get involved with such careless acts. I must ask if the crime I committed warrants my life in prison. With this sentence, I will never be given the opportunity to be a father, an exhorter to troubled youth, or an esteemed pillar to the community. I am praying and pleading for the world to hear my cause.
In closing, I want to thank God for giving me the vision, heart and strength to learn, research and write this entire brief. I would have never found the courage if not for his vision. I wish you knew how long and hard I have cried out for a breakthrough. The physical tears became and outward expression of my inward exhaustion. There was a time that this sentence and incarceration weighed me down. The Lord heard me and placed within my spirit the foundation and structure of my release. Amen.
Originally, I thought I would elaborate on my faith and give an account of the commitment I made to God in October 2002. I intended to testify about the most wonderful spiritual experiences ever. I wanted to write about the weeks I spent crying uncontrollably because I finally came to realize what life was about. I considered it important to mention that although I am not perfect, I simply do not walk, talk, think or act the way I used to. I thought about sharing a lot of things but what matters most to mention is that I will never again revert to that young man.
Nine years ago, I committed to salvation and walking in Christ. Since then, my life has been dedicated to healing lives, not destroying them. Since the conception of my incarceration, I have remained free of any incident reports. This commitment to God, myself and others has resulted in me being able to further my recovery. For the duration of my incarceration, I have led various bible studies, fellowship and prayer groups as well as organized chapel functions. In this capacity, my hearts purpose has been to help men of all ages, races and geographical backgrounds to recognize and grab the opportunity to know the Lord, love themselves and respect mankind. I have watched lives transform for the better and I am honored to be a part of that process.
I have also worked as an inmate mentor for several years. In this role, I was responsible for encouraging others to adhere to the safety guidelines of the prison. I assisted the staff on various assignments and remained adaptable to the general needs of those around me. This program was terminated in 2008. Furthermore, I served as a chairman on an inmate created program called “One-Way”. One-Way was created to organize new endeavors for reaching out to troubled youth. Our organization, One-Way, received clearance through the Bureau of Prisons and the Executive staff of U.S.P. Big Sandy, to engage with troubled students from the local schools. The students were brought to the prison facility to participate in workshops created by the inmates. The workshops were designed to encourage students down a path of success and the valued importance of abiding the law. During this experience, we were fortunate enough to touch the lives of America’s youth and inspire them toward positive change. Unfortunately, this program was terminated in 2009.
In addition to my previous leadership roles, I continue to serve as an instructor for classes such as Public Speaking, Courage to Heal and Breaking Barriers. I am scheduled to begin teaching three additional classes (Anger Management, Responsibility and Criminal Thinking). The majority of these classes are offered by the psychology department and are voluntary. My favorite thus far has been Breaking Barriers. It is a cognitive (conscience) thinking course that places an emphasis on recognizing our belief principals and then recognizing that those beliefs produce actions that may or may not meet our needs over time. I have absolutely come to own this information.
This has been quite a journey for me. One filled with highs and lows. I am ready for this part of my journey to come to an end. This is my first and last time in prison. I have a very distinct purpose in this world and I am eager to make a positive contribution to society.
I would like to thank everyone who has supported me over the last nine years. Thank you for your love, encouragement and prayers. I look forward to our days together again.
Respectfully,
Ian Aza Jerome Owens
The reckless decisions I've made were inspired by nothing but selfishness, greed, laziness and immaturity. In life, a man has the right to make choices, but when his choices lead to criminal behavior, he begins posing a threat to others, and this individual becomes a danger to society. Had someone told me about a person like this 15 or 20 years ago, I probably would have suggested that this individual be sent to prison for a very longtime. In the core of my mind, I would have thrown this individual into the category with every other criminal.
I think what I am trying to say is that I understand. I understand that with nothing on the table but knowledge of my past criminal behavior, opinions like this will be common. However, I speak from the center of my of my soul, even at the point of engaging in these wrongful acts, these choices were not a true reflection of my heart. Furthermore, those thoughts and actions most certainly do not reflect the man I am today. I sincerely pray that as you read on, you will do so with an open mind as I share my testimony.
My name is Ian Aza Jerome Owens. I was born in Chicago, IL on October 3, 1978 to Mariann Owens and Jerome Jackson. Growing up, I experienced a pretty normal childhood. I was blessed with the most incredible woman and mother ever created. She nurtured, fed, clothed, taught and supported our family, which eventually expanded to three children in all. Life in Chicago was very brief. In fact, my mom, sister, step-father and I moved to Lansing, MI several months shy of my sixth birthday.
Shortly after we arrived, my mother and I separated. We managed to get settled in and begin our new lives. I have never known my biological father and though my stepfather was around very infrequently, I hardly felt handicapped because of the remarkable job my mom did of understanding the role of both parents. This role I will never be able to praise her enough for. She didn’t abandon our home or put anybody or anything ahead of her children. There weren’t any men coming in and out of our house either. She has always been a homebody. It was just my mother, sister and I until my littler brother was born in 1989. He was a product of adoption. My mother, who by nature is a full-fledged humanitarian, adopted him before he was born and brought him home directly from the hospital.
By this time, my mom was either working two jobs or very hard at one. She didn’t have a degree or a high level of formal education but she always maintained employment and managed our home. At this time, I was eleven going on twelve and life was gearing up for me. Throughout elementary school I showed no flaws from learning standpoint. Actually, I was ahead of most with Math, reading and comprehension skills. It wasn’t until middle school that I became the untamed class clown, trading in good grades for good laughs. I spent more days entertaining rather than being educated. My focus was gone. I wasn’t cutting class or anything like that, I was probably worse. I actually went to school everyday and did nothing but play around. This was the theme throughout sixth, seventh and eighth grade. Over the course of these years, I started doing some shameful things like stealing video games from friends, shoplifting from stores. Sometime during eighth grade, I smoked marijuana for the first time. Needless to say, but this was more likely the beginning of the end for me.
I eventually did just enough work to graduate into high school. At the end of middle school, I was 6’3 and had developed a passion for basketball. The game came easily and often times became an outlet for me. Around this time, I wasn’t interested in stealing or shoplifting anymore. I never really liked smoking weed so this wasn’t a vice either. I eventually started selling it, which fortunately was very small-time and short-lived because I wasn’t good at managing money.
So my life slowly and surely began to revolve around basketball and girls. I wasn’t applying myself academically. I performed awfully, skipping classes and sometimes school altogether. I don’t know what was going on in my head, but in reflecting back, it’s quite clear that something was wrong. This something would only get worse with time.
A lot of people might question where my mom was and I have to say that she was always home. She wasn't out running the streets or anything like that. She labored everyday so that we had everything we needed and some of the things we wanted. We never knew the feeling of being without lights, heat, water or food. We may have gone without a phone or cable television at times but never lacked the essentials. In answering this question, I have to say that my mother was boggled down with the task of raising three children by herself. Anybody who knows her knows that she wasn’t void as a disciplinarian. Thanks mom. She chose a path early on in her life and on that path, she forfeited her education, yet she was far from dense. We weren’t allowed to get away with much, but I have to admit that it was probably a lot easier to fly under the radar academically because of her lack of experience here. It’s extremely different to preach a message in which one has very little or no understanding. Even in saying all this, the truth is that I chose this path myself. My lackadaisical approach to my middle and high school education was no body’s fault but mine.
Ninth grade really flew by for me. I did very well on the basketball court yet poorly in the classroom. And make no mistake about it; I wasn’t dumb, illiterate or suffering from any kind of learning disability. I just wasn’t focused or applying myself. It was sort of weird to others how I could miss a class or two for a week straight but come back and fit in without any struggle. At times, I began to lean on this ability. It became somewhat of a negative rut for me. By the end of the school year I found out that I wouldn’t be eligible to play ball the following year because my grade point average was already too low. This news crushed me, sending me in an entirely different direction.
At the age of fifteen, I began drinking alcohol. Really it’s ironic that I went this route because up until that point, I completely despised alcohol. For years, I watched the ill-effects that alcohol had on my stepfather and so many others, which led to me cursing it. That was until I had my first significant experience. From that pint on, drinking became a very regular thing for me. At that time, it was fun. It helped me hide behind the reality that I was failing in school, not able to play ball because of poor grades and in need of change.
School became an afterthought by the middle of my sophomore year; I was drinking more and getting into fights regularly. Alcohol had this way of transforming me and my emotions. It was a very disgraceful and embarrassing period for me. I was really going through it because I couldn’t play basketball. Nobody knew this.
“The only pain and pressure worse than performing under your potential is that which comes from you peers, those who are around daily sub-consciously reminding you of who you are” - Ian Owens
I believe that the attention and notoriety I lacked from not being able to play ball, led to me seeking it from the streets. I spent more and more time being angry about my life, but at that time, I couldn’t recognize these truths.
By the time I reached my senior year, I hadn’t really accomplished anything. Id’ just missed two straight seasons of basketball because I wasn’t going to school and would have missed my final year if it hadn’t been for a coach with a vision. The summer going into twelfth grade, I received a phone message from a man who identified himself as a basketball coach from a new high school. He promised that if I transferred schools I would be eligible to play immediately. At first I rejected the idea because going to school was in conflict with where I was at that point in my life. I was too comfortable to think about starting over with new expectations. It just didn’t feel right. Soon after hearing from the coach, I began getting calls from other guys wanting me to transfer also. Up until that point, I hadn’t played in a meaningful game in more than two years. I was able to play in various summer leagues and AAU tournaments, but nothing close to the opportunity on the table. Despite being ineligible, I received state rankings and a slew of scholarship offers.
In contemplating whether to transfer, I talked it over with my mom and she support me going. However, upon enrolling and attempting to get started with school, the school itself was dealing with their own setbacks. They were hardly ready to function or offer quality education. We didn’t have books or any form of curriculum. It was chaos and among the chaos, I found myself doing the same things that destroyed the previous three or four years of my life. I was skipping school more than ever, drinking heavier, partying and fighting. I wasn’t at all serious about life. I lived for the moment and thought of no one or nothing but myself. I had some serious issues that most people just didn’t know about.
Eventually, the school found some sense of order and I struggled to get to that point. The basketball season began and that helped some. As the school year progressed, I had more people than ever in my ear about going to college. I was having a lot of success on the court and with this success, came even more attention from college recruiters. Although the thought of going to school crossed my mind, the truth about my grades and the reality of being a poor student kept these thoughts within their limits. A lot of people think of becoming engineers but their short coming in mathematics have a way of diffusing their thoughts and hopes.
During the school year, I experienced a lot of thing for the first time. The most memorable were my two arrests for being a minor in possession and consumption of alcohol. On two separate occasions, I drank and became disorderly to the point of arrest. I had never been arrested and owned no juvenile record; just like that, I am in the backseat of a police car. The second arrest really did something to me. Some sort of light came on. And though I didn’t change completely, I did start looking at life differently. I slowed my drinking, stayed home more and focused on school. I really began entertaining the idea of accepting one of these scholarships to college. I was hearing from coaches all over the country. The more they called and sent letters, the more I perked up and started believing in myself. Unfortunately, a lot of Universities had to pass on me once they found out how low my grade point average was. It became apparent that I would have to go to a junior college first, strengthen my academics and then attend a four year University.
Quite a few Universities stuck by me and wanted me to attend junior colleges within their state or somewhere close. This would prevent transfer issues after completing my two-year junior college term. As I felt my life taking form, I moved with more purpose. I was flying and driving to different colleges; gaining insight on the next phase in my life. For the first time, I felt myself growing up. The entire experience was surreal. I wound up visiting Fort Scott Community College located in Fort Scott, KS. This visit led to me signing a basketball contract with their school. I was very excited about finishing High-School and making it through the summer. I was eager to get back to Kansas, begin school and redeeming my life.
The summer of 1997 was a busy one. This summer was filled with things kids do when preparing to leave home for the first time. Those few months were spent with family and friends. This enjoyment was not void of incident. Two weeks prior to my departure, an attempted assault. I became a responsible party and charged with the crime because I was driving the vehicle that carried the culprits. Unplanned and completely out of my knowledge, the two passengers began firing gun rounds. Thankfully, no one was injured. After the incident, I surrendered myself and disclosed my full involvement. The legal authorities made it very clear that they knew I had no involvement with the shooting. The police shared that they knew I did not play a role in the shooting but was charged for not disclosing the names of those who did. Witnessing what I witnessed, I was afraid to talk. I was afraid to give names. Keeping my mouth shut resulted in my first and only felonious conviction, prior to my current circumstance.
Shortly after this horrible experience, I went to school in Kansas. In short, college went well for me. I stayed in Kansas for one semester. That was how long it took me to realize I had better opportunities in Kansas. Prior to my transfer, I made great strides academically. On the basketball court, I was better than ever. As a freshman, I was leading the team in points, rebounds, blocks and field goal percentages. I’d also won MVP of a major tournament. My life and future seemed destined for success. I moved from Kansas to Howard College in Texas. At Howard, I spent three semesters maturing as a man, student and athlete. At the completion of my third semester, I transferred back home to Lansing Community College with the intention of signing with Michigan State University. This return home would become detrimental.
Upon arriving home, I was introduced to an individual who I’d seen time to time. The streets were well aware of who he was and his lifestyle. This individual and I played basketball at some of the same places in our small community. He saw my talent and began taking a liking to me. He befriended me immediately. He was like a big brother I never had. He began flaunting himself as my agent and assuring others that I was the best player on the court. While playing for Lansing Community College, he began creating profitable opportunities and was ready to capitalize on any opportunity that presented itself. Whatever profit he made, he made sure I was taken care of. Most would say he was just using me. My desperation to have a big brother wouldn’t let me see that.
Eventually, he took a loss on a great sum of money. This money was confiscated by the police. He was strained and needed to find a quick way to come up with the money. This led to him and his girlfriend setting up a plan to rob a bank. When they tried to fill me in on the play, I told him he was crazy. I was committed to avoiding this type of venture. At the time, it was by far the most ignorant thing I could imagine. Nevertheless, they went through with it and got away with it. When they told me how much they’d yielded, I was shocked. But for him, it was not enough.
Over the next few months, he did everything possible to convince me he and I could collaborate on the crime and rob a bank together. He began reminding me of how much he’d been there for me; of how much he’d done for me. I was never one to fall prey to persuasion or peer pressure but I eventually decided to try it. For the record, I did not choose to go along with this because of an immense amount of pressure, nor was I forced. I did not go for a violent rush. God knows I went because I saw the potential of having a lump sum of money and I allowed that greed to skew my reality and void my previous commit of not getting involved.
Leading up to the crime, they began to make plans and I listened. Preparations were made and I assumed my role. I had never been so scared in my entire life. The robbery was planned as a ‘take-over’ manner. This included a lot of yelling and cursing and threats. Never in my heart and soul had I intended on harming anyone. The Lord knows this even better than I do.
In November of 2000, I participated in the first of what would be four bank robberies. Each robbery was hostile and aggressive. They were intimidating, un-nerving and intense. Just as much as anything else of this nature, these robberies were foremost; idiotic, compromising, painful and senseless. During this period, it was really difficult for me to understand the impact these events would have on so many others. My ignorance and selfishness blinded me and all I saw was financial gain. These crimes were evil and destructive.
In August 15 2002, I was arrested. I was initially charged with one bank robbery. The prosecutor of the case sent word that through my attorney that he wanted to meet with me in person. I was skeptical and overly worried. I had never been involved with the law to this magnitude. The FBI and local authorities had shared with my mother that I was facing a few years. This was contingent to a guilty plea and consistency of honesty. The prosecutor also informed my attorney that if I waived my bond hearing, he would avoid prosecuting me under the 924(c) statue. Being ignorant to law, I had no idea what a 924(c) was. I didn’t know the difference between a 924 (c) and a 401K. Looking back at that offer now, it sounds improbable. For sake of scenario, say the prosecutors intentions were waive any 924 (C) violations. Couple this with the Special Agents case statement of me being a good kid who got caught up and over the course of the investigation he couldn’t find anyone in the community to mention any negative remarks about me. This should be a testament that I am not some violent thug with no regard for humanity.
In hindsight, I clearly understand that they were trying to lighten this heavy load. I couldn’t bring myself to trust anyone during this unfamiliar process. I wound up declining the prosecutor’s request for a visit. Almost immediately, the counts of my indictment increased from one to fourteen. I was charged with all four robberies, a carjacking that I didn’t commit five-counts of 924(C), two additional firearm counts and two counts of conspiracy to commit the same robberies. I was later convicted of thirteen of the fourteen counts and sentenced to 117 years and 7 months. 105 of these years were assigned due to improper merging of the 924(C) violations. The framework of my case mirrors the Simpson vs. United States case while the sentencing reflects that of United States vs. Angelos.
Two-years after my conviction, I appealed my convictions and sentence. In light of United States vs. Booker, 125 s.ct.738 (2005), I was granted a hearing to remand my sentence. This case uplifted the mandatory imposition of the United States Sentencing Guidelines, allowing the judge the authority to enter a sentence at his discretion. Unfortunately, the Judge could not adjust a sentence with a statue that holds a mandatory minimum penalty; in my case, the 924 (C) statue. My Judge wanted to do what the Honorable Paul Cassell and many other Judges wanted to do; disarm the devastating grip that statue 924(c) has on convictions that are not recidivists (repeat offenders of the 924(c)). Judges do not have the power to change how this statue is can be applied. They are required to enforce it. As a result, I left the appeals court with nearly the same heavy sentence I entered with.
For over nine years, I have questioned the process of the 924(c) statue and how it is applied. I, Ian Aza Jerome Owens, recognize that I have made a number of extremely terrible choices that have aided my being in prison. I take responsibility for my actions and my involvement. At a young age, I made a terrible choice to get involved with such careless acts. I must ask if the crime I committed warrants my life in prison. With this sentence, I will never be given the opportunity to be a father, an exhorter to troubled youth, or an esteemed pillar to the community. I am praying and pleading for the world to hear my cause.
In closing, I want to thank God for giving me the vision, heart and strength to learn, research and write this entire brief. I would have never found the courage if not for his vision. I wish you knew how long and hard I have cried out for a breakthrough. The physical tears became and outward expression of my inward exhaustion. There was a time that this sentence and incarceration weighed me down. The Lord heard me and placed within my spirit the foundation and structure of my release. Amen.
Originally, I thought I would elaborate on my faith and give an account of the commitment I made to God in October 2002. I intended to testify about the most wonderful spiritual experiences ever. I wanted to write about the weeks I spent crying uncontrollably because I finally came to realize what life was about. I considered it important to mention that although I am not perfect, I simply do not walk, talk, think or act the way I used to. I thought about sharing a lot of things but what matters most to mention is that I will never again revert to that young man.
Nine years ago, I committed to salvation and walking in Christ. Since then, my life has been dedicated to healing lives, not destroying them. Since the conception of my incarceration, I have remained free of any incident reports. This commitment to God, myself and others has resulted in me being able to further my recovery. For the duration of my incarceration, I have led various bible studies, fellowship and prayer groups as well as organized chapel functions. In this capacity, my hearts purpose has been to help men of all ages, races and geographical backgrounds to recognize and grab the opportunity to know the Lord, love themselves and respect mankind. I have watched lives transform for the better and I am honored to be a part of that process.
I have also worked as an inmate mentor for several years. In this role, I was responsible for encouraging others to adhere to the safety guidelines of the prison. I assisted the staff on various assignments and remained adaptable to the general needs of those around me. This program was terminated in 2008. Furthermore, I served as a chairman on an inmate created program called “One-Way”. One-Way was created to organize new endeavors for reaching out to troubled youth. Our organization, One-Way, received clearance through the Bureau of Prisons and the Executive staff of U.S.P. Big Sandy, to engage with troubled students from the local schools. The students were brought to the prison facility to participate in workshops created by the inmates. The workshops were designed to encourage students down a path of success and the valued importance of abiding the law. During this experience, we were fortunate enough to touch the lives of America’s youth and inspire them toward positive change. Unfortunately, this program was terminated in 2009.
In addition to my previous leadership roles, I continue to serve as an instructor for classes such as Public Speaking, Courage to Heal and Breaking Barriers. I am scheduled to begin teaching three additional classes (Anger Management, Responsibility and Criminal Thinking). The majority of these classes are offered by the psychology department and are voluntary. My favorite thus far has been Breaking Barriers. It is a cognitive (conscience) thinking course that places an emphasis on recognizing our belief principals and then recognizing that those beliefs produce actions that may or may not meet our needs over time. I have absolutely come to own this information.
This has been quite a journey for me. One filled with highs and lows. I am ready for this part of my journey to come to an end. This is my first and last time in prison. I have a very distinct purpose in this world and I am eager to make a positive contribution to society.
I would like to thank everyone who has supported me over the last nine years. Thank you for your love, encouragement and prayers. I look forward to our days together again.
Respectfully,
Ian Aza Jerome Owens
