I thank Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger for doing nothing. In his inaction, he brought a modicum of justice to an otherwise unjust situation.
The governor, who had vetoed Flozelle Woodmore's parole recommendation each of the last three years, did not oppose her release this time. And last week she walked out of the Central California Women's Facility in Chowchilla, a free woman.
Woodmore, whom I wrote about several months ago, is a 39-year-old woman who has spent more than half her life in prison for murdering her abusive boyfriend. The governor, along with predecessor Gray Davis, blocked Woodmore's parole, which had been approved by the parole board five consecutive years.
In 1986, Woodmore was 18 when she shot Clifton Morrow with a .357 Magnum the same day it was alleged that he had hit her, shoved her child against a wall and threatened to kill them both.
She pleaded guilty to second-degree murder and was sentenced to 15 years to life. During this time, Morrow's family, along with the sentencing judge, were in support of her release.
At the time of Woodmore's prosecution, California law did not recognize abuse as a viable self-defense that could lead to acquittal. The law was changed in 1992.
In prison, Woodmore has earned a GED, trained as a counselor, and each time she appeared before the parole board they found her fit for release.
San Francisco businesswoman Ruth Dewson "harangued" me (I say that in the most loving way) to write about the Woodmore case. As I researched it, I discovered what was tantamount to absurdity run amok. How could this woman remain behind bars?
Regardless of the official reason, it does not take much to conclude that Woodmore remained behind bars longer than was warranted because of politics more than public safety.
Moreover, the Woodmore case calls into question the legitimacy of the state parole board. This 14-member bipartisan body, appointed by the governor, whose occupants are now compensated $108,000 annually, are in theory entrusted to make decisions in the best interest of public safety.
Five times the appointees of Davis and Schwarzenegger felt Woodmore was ready for release only to have the governor at the time overrule their decision -- a power that only three states provide to its governors.
In spite of such absurdities, Woodmore, according to her attorney, Johanna Hoffmann, never lost faith in the system that denied her freedom. Year after year she made her case before the parole board undaunted by the governor's previous actions.
Thus, she becomes a role model of perseverance to which we all can ascribe. Her belief in a system that failed her embodies the words of Martin Luther King, "the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice."
But we should not assume that Flozelle Woodmore is an isolated occurrence. Other women, less visible, still languish behind bars without any hope of being released.
Ms. Hoffmann also shared with me that upon her release, Woodmore thanked many of those who supported her during her incarceration. Therefore, in addition to the governor, I take this opportunity to do likewise.
I certainly thank Ruth Dewson, who cornered me after preaching one Sunday and would not accept anything short of "yes, I will look into it tomorrow" for an answer. Without her dogged determination it is doubtful this case would have received my attention.
I especially thank the readers of this column, who added their voice of support for Woodmore, by taking the time to write letters, send e-mails or call the governor's office directly. Many of you copied me on the correspondence.
This small exercise in activism ought to serve as a reminder that change can happen. It does not always move at a pace to our liking, but the collective force of people committed to a cause remains the strongest asset for any democracy.
And for that reminder, we all are indebted to Flozelle Woodmore.
Byron Williams is an Oakland pastor and syndicated columnist. E-mail him at byron@byronspeaks.com or leave a message at (510) 208-6417.