By Christopher Blackwell and Loretta Pierre for The Appeal.
Broadcast version by Danielle Smith for Mississippi News Connection reporting for The Appeal-Public News Service Collaboration

About a year ago, a close friend, Garrett Felber, told me about a project close to his heart—the campaign to Free the Mississippi Five (MS5). 

The MS5 are the last remaining women in Mississippi sentenced to life with the possibility of parole after ten years before the state virtually abolished parole in 1995. Although they are, ostensibly, parole-eligible, the state has routinely denied their release without reasonable justification. They each have been imprisoned for more than 30 years.

The five have each taken responsibility for the harm they caused and spent decades pursuing growth and repair. Felber sent me interviews he conducted with each person about their lives and the repeated, arbitrary denials by the Mississippi Parole Board. One of the group, Loretta Pierre, has been denied parole 14 times, more than any other woman in the state’s history. 

The more I learned, the more I wanted to help. So I am sharing the words of Loretta Pierre, who tells us her story and introduces us to the other four women with whom she has spent nearly four decades in prison. —Chris Blackwell 

My name is Loretta Pierre. In 1985, when I was 20 years old and five months pregnant, I shot a woman during an argument. I immediately called 911 for help. But tragically, she did not survive. 

When the police arrived, I was arrested for aggravated assault and eventually charged with murder. Once my court proceedings began, I had five mistrials before I was convicted at my sixth trial. In 1989, I was sentenced to life with the possibility of parole after ten years. 

I have now been in prison for 36 years and denied parole 14 times. I hold the record in the state of Mississippi for the number of times a woman has been denied. 

Before my conviction, I had never spent a single day in jail. The son I was pregnant with then is now 38 years old, and he has three daughters of his own. I have never met them. My Mama, my strongest supporter, died in September 2017, brokenhearted that I was never released in her lifetime. My sister, who was 10 years old when I was arrested, is now 49. And my brother, who was 24, is now 63. My siblings still support me, but with each parole denial, our hope of reuniting becomes more elusive. Nevertheless, we communicate daily and refuse to let this unreasonable punishment break us. 

I have completed more than 50 classes, courses, and programs in prison. Yet, when I last met with the parole board in January 2022, my file was completely empty and looked as if I had wasted decades doing nothing. There was no record of the job I held for more than 23 years; none of the letters of support that professors, friends, and family had sent in; or the document promising me a job when I came home. What was available for the board was my disciplinary record—the rule violations levied against me for filing grievances against the Mississippi Department of Corrections (MDOC) during my captivity. 

It has been a never-ending cycle that I’ve had to endure, day after day, year after year. I was not sentenced to life without parole or death by incarceration. Nor were the four other women from MS5 I want to introduce you to.

Evelyn Smith, 82, aka Mama E, has been incarcerated for 32 years for murder. She is an amazing cook, always makes extra for her friends, and has a remedy for anyone who is sick. Mama E’s last parole hearing in January 2022 lasted three minutes. They told her to come back in five years. I delivered the board’s decision to her in the privacy of her room. We shared our pain together, aware that she may not have another five years left to live but her faith in God is strong and she still holds hope she will one day be released.

Lisa Crevitt, 59, was just 20 years old when she succumbed to drug-induced psychotic delusions and dropped her child from a bridge. She has held the same job during her nearly 40 years in prison and has never received a single rule violation report. Lisa’s ex-husband and the deceased child’s father is now a judge in Warren County, Mississippi. Many believe that his political influence has kept Lisa imprisoned. Her first parole date was in 1995. The board has denied her nine times. 

Anita Krecic, 65, has been incarcerated since 1987, after her then-boyfriend shot and killed a Mississippi Highway Patrolman. Anita’s co-defendant, who shot the trooper, was executed in 2002. While incarcerated, she has consistently worked a job, earned over 100 college credits, and maintained an exemplary behavior record. She displays strong values, morals, and ethics in her daily life and is currently enrolled in seminary school. But in the lead-up to each of her parole hearings, signs opposing her release are typically posted throughout the county where she was convicted. In 2022, she was denied by the board and told to return in 2030. 

Linda Ross, 62, has been incarcerated since 1989 for killing a man who attacked her. She has maintained a job throughout her incarceration and is currently pursuing a bachelor’s degree. She is very generous and loves to cook for friends. Linda loves to share stories with those incarcerated with her. 

Each time we are denied parole, the board cites the “serious nature” of our crimes. None of us can change what we did—only who we have become since. I have completed every program MDOC has made available to me. That this doesn’t seem to matter makes me think that those with authority see no value in the department’s rehabilitation courses. These programs feel like a sham, nothing more than a way for crooked authorities to generate funding while putting on a show for the public. 

Change will not happen unless the public pressures those who oppress us without oversight. Without transparency and accountability, we five—and many like us across the country—will be forced to die behind these towering walls—not to provide safety for our communities, but for retribution and punishment. 

For this to change, we need your help! Our website includes our clemency petitions, ways to support us, and addresses to contact us—please share on social media so others can learn about our plight. Relationships and correspondence can be life-saving forms of support. For too long the parole board in Mississippi has been able to act as judge, jury, and executioner. We must build our collective strength to combat this repressive system. It is far past time for us to get a chance to return to our communities. 


Christopher Blackwell and Loretta Pierre wrote this article for The Appeal.


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Indiana lawmakers are moving forward with plans to expand the state's Lifeline Law, which protects those seeking emergency help in alcohol-related crises.

A Senate committee unanimously approved a bill to extend immunity to individuals in distress due to excessive drinking, aiming to address hesitation among young people to call for help.

Rebecca Siner, student body vice president at Purdue University, said broader protections encourage people to seek assistance in dangerous situations without fearing legal repercussions.

"The Indiana Lifeline Law provides amnesty from arrest or prosecution to those seeking medical attention for underage drinking," Siner explained. "The parties protected under this law are the caller and those who assist the caller, staying on scene and remaining compliant. The person in need of medical attention is not protected to this day."

Critics, however, raised concerns expanding immunity might unintentionally encourage reckless behavior, such as excessive drinking, by reducing perceived consequences. Some also questioned whether the law's broader scope could create enforcement challenges or overwhelm emergency services with noncritical calls.

Jason Packard, student body president at Purdue, told lawmakers he supports the amendment to broaden protections. He said it will be imperative to educate the community about the changes to drive better outcomes.

"With this change, it gives them protection and it makes educating students on this topic much easier," Packard contended. "And it's a much more convincing message for them to remember when they're in that scary situation to take decisive action and call 911 to save a life."

The Lifeline Law was first enacted in 2012 and revised in 2014, giving immunity to minors reporting emergencies. If the latest amendment passes, it adds another layer of protection for Hoosiers while fueling debate over how best to balance safety and accountability.


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In Mississippi, where thousands of people are serving life sentences, the impact of long-term imprisonment falls disproportionately on Black communities. Their advocates are raising concerns about the state's sentencing practices. And they're urging legislative reforms to reduce what they call "extreme sentences" and to address racial inequities in the system.

Celeste Barry, program associate with The Sentencing Project, co-authored a new report on the effects of long-term imprisonment. She said in Mississippi, more than 2,300 people are serving life sentences - and nearly three-quarters have no opportunity for parole.

"We see in Mississippi some extreme racial disparities that are far greater than the national average. So, over 70% of the life sentence population is Black in Mississippi, and that's compared to the still troubling 45% nationally" she explained.

Groups like hers are pushing for reforms to address these disparities. Barry highlights Oklahoma as an example, where the state passed the Domestic Violence Survivors Justice Act, allowing incarcerated individuals to seek reduced sentences if they can prove that abuse played a role in their crime.

Barry believes similar reforms could offer significant relief in Mississippi, especially given the state's disproportionately high number of women serving life sentences without parole.

"And this has the power to bring relief to hundreds of survivors in the state, and could be particularly meaningful in a state like Mississippi, where they have the largest share of their female life-sentenced population serving life without parole," she continued.

In 2021, Mississippi lawmakers passed a bipartisan bill to reduce the prison population by expanding parole opportunities for nonviolent offenders, but Gov. Tate Reeves vetoed it, citing public safety concerns.

Services for North Carolinians affected by the justice system is going mobile.

The Recidivism Reduction Educational Program Services mobile resource center is hitting the road today to provide reentry support across the state. It is the first effort of its kind.

Kerwin Pittman, founder and executive director of the organization, said the center will meet North Carolinians where they are, literally.

"What we wanted to do was bring a plethora of resources into these communities," Pittman explained. "Particularly communities that are highly impacted by recidivism and incarceration, and bring a wealth of resources to them to hopefully curb the recidivism rate."

The center had its unveiling and ribbon cutting on Tuesday and is starting in the Raleigh-Durham area today. Pittman pointed out it is the first of four units he hopes to have running by the end of the year. They will be located in different parts of the state and rotate throughout their region each week.

Pittman emphasized the units will be able to provide a long list of services.

"Some of those services range from social-benefit assistance to employment assistance to education and skill development to offering support and mental health services, substance misuse treatment and services, housing assistance, legal support, family and community support, digital literacy," Pittman outlined.

He added they will also provide inclement weather supplies, hygiene kits and local reentry resources through the organization's call center.

Places like NC Works Career Centers and other state services are able to provide local resources. But Pittman noted the services can be hard to access without a car, which can deter people.

"It's hard to walk in the cold to NC Works Center to sit in there and have to go through no telling what the intake process is, just to get whatever benefit that you may be trying to apply for or a resume or try to find a job," Pittman observed.