How Serious is the Offense?

How serious is the offense? Not an easy question to answer in a public forum, and possibly a dangerous question to answer in the days before a judge renders a sentence. On the one hand, an honest answer may pit public opinion against me, engender a poisonous response from the prosecutor, harden the view of the Judge, and make the efforts of my defense attorney more difficult; on the other hand, my singular objective is the restoration of a tattered marriage, and to my surprise I’ve found comfort in the pages of the sentencing mitigation material I’ve been studying. It has become an irreplaceable tool that has focused my attention on remaining happily married, forced me to find common ground with the woman I love, hastened me to cure my personal issues and provided guidance in our relationship. It sounds absurd, but the sentence mitigation process has become the template for saving the marriage of a convicted felon.

In the book, ‘Handbook of Mitigation in Criminal and Immigration Forensics,’ by Mark S. Silver, this important question became obvious to me. The question of, “How serious is the offense,” must be answered. My wife and I take great pride in not being a burden on others or our community. I have been blessed financially, and able to make a meaningful contribution to society. I enjoy providing affordable housing to my tenants, curing blight in the neighborhoods where I invest, donating generously to the causes I'm passionate about and providing jobs to the people I work with. All of that changed when the government locked down the economy. My business began hemorrhaging, and the SBA came to the rescue.

I was thankful when the SBA approved my pandemic disaster loans. I put my loan proceeds to good use, or so I thought. The government didn’t agree and criminally prosecuted me. I was a successful business owner, entrepreneur and productive member of society, but now I’m a convicted felon. A life time of work erased by a single FEMA disaster declaration. A property owner is supposed to enjoy a legal “bundle of rights” which include possession, control, exclusion, derivation of income and disposition, but the government changed the rules during the Coronavirus disaster. In its place the SBA started offering long term loans to small business owners, but provided little guidance while originating these loans.

I mention my point of reference as a place to begin my explanation. Obviously, I am dealing with the anger of being bankrupted, criminally prosecuted, sentenced and possibly incarcerated. My freedom and many additional rights I enjoyed in the past are being stripped away. It is quite serious to me, but it seems to me the key players in the criminal justice process have little interest in how this experience has affected me. I already pled guilty. Anything I say will be considered with suspicion. It is warped, but it is reality.

It is fair to say, despite my best efforts, I did not accurately report my financial information that I reported on my loan applications to the SBA. As a result, I deprived other worthy business owners of the opportunity to secure funding from the SBA, and harmed the federal government and my fellow taxpayer in the process. It is very serious, and I have remedied the problem by paying the full restitution before my sentence is handed down. What about the fall-out? It is serious too.

I will not be able to cure blight anymore. My community is made better because of the rehab work I do? I regularly buy dilapidated single family homes, and revitalize the structure into affordable housing. I make profit and the community benefits with higher property taxes, a tax paying tenant, and better neighborhoods with lower crime. My community will be seriously deprived of this enrichment.

I will not be able to provide projects to the contractors I work with? I have a close working relationship with the people that help me rehab properties. Society will suffer with nonperforming properties, or by subsidizing the dwelling, that could have otherwise generated a greater tax revenue. The community will suffer with less revenue from sales tax because I will not provide projects that require heavy material investment. The people that rely on me will be seriously deprived of income and opportunity.

My wife may be forced to seek elder care assistance from our community outreach services. We pride ourselves on providing the assisted living care our parents need, but this burden may become too much for my wife to handle alone without state aid. My state will be seriously deprived of the precious resources it should have been able to use elsewhere.

My marriage has begun to suffer. I believe this I can save. My wife and I discussed at length how we should act, pray and work through this experience. I said, “I made a promise to pay the loans back, and I think I should do it before I go to prison.” She agreed, fully aware of the financial burden it would cause.

Little did I realize this became the source of immense pride for her. For some reason she was proud to be married to a bankrupt small business owner that can keep his word. My criminal prosecution forced me to prove what I believe and practice it in the face of unenviable odds. I told her, “I can always rebuild the business after this is over, but I believe we can mitigate our way to a better marriage right now.” She was beginning to see it too. She read this blog and it led to a deep discussion of the financial obligation that a man and woman share, a penetrating immersion in how to keep promises, a recognition of the strength in character and love we share, the development of a plan to stay connected and committed to our marriage, learning how to use the criminal justice experience to overcome its crushing consequences, an honest evaluation of the things we find important in this life – the list keeps growing. I am beginning to see the passion rekindled despite the deleterious reach of the criminal justice system.