Years to die

At age 74, Alva Mae Groves was sent to federal prison for conspiracy to possess crack cocaine and helping trade crack for food stamps. She pleaded guilty, but maintained that her prosecution was more about not informing on her sons and daughters (some of whom went to prison in the same case) than about the limited involvement of an elderly woman in selling drugs.

Still, Groves received 24 years, a sentence more suited to a drug kingpin than a grandmother who didn't contest the charges.

The sentence was mandated by a federal law meant to collar kingpins. Once imposed, it was unlikely that Groves would leave prison. She didn't. The Johnston County woman died in a prison hospital in Texas last month.

Groves' death far from family is one reason among several why Congress should revisit the mandatory minimum sentence laws it passed in the 1980s. At the time, the scourge of crack and related crime was at its height. Crack is still a nasty drug, but it has faded in importance in the intervening years, displaced by crystal meth.

Yet the mandatory minimum laws for crack offenses remain. In many cases, major pushers have moved to other drugs, while low-level, non-violent criminals go to prison with long sentences. The laws treat hard-core dealers still in the crack trade the same way they treat street-level runners.

Mandated sentences severely limit a judge's ability to consider the facts of a case. They give prosecutors power to intimidate defendants who may be in trouble for the first time. The cost of jailing low-level convicts for long stretches strains Americans' pocketbooks.

Groves' sentence destined her to die a prisoner. Her family appealed widely for her release last year. Prison authorities turned them down, the letter reaching Groves on her deathbed. It seems grossly harsh for a non-violent criminal judged to be terminally ill to be refused a better death. Groves' sad end should spur Congress to take up legislation that restores balance in federal drug sentencing.