Life Without Parole

Posted by Betty Jackson

      Shyrl Irene Lamar is my dear sister in Christ. But she is serving a life without parole sentence at the Central California Women’s Facility. Many years ago, our friends, Jack and Edie Wheeler, wanted us to meet and visit with Shyrl. After the required paperwork, we met the Wheelers at the prison to visit Shyrl. We felt affection for her right away.  
      I asked Shyrl for a brief autobiography to share with Women of Hope readers.

Shyrl explains her reason for telling her story:

     I have thought about how to discourage a person from doing the kinds of things that eventually led me to prison. We think our lives are hopeless and so we turn to people. When they let us down, we may turn to alcohol or drugs. Nearly 19 years of my life were wasted chasing drugs, alcohol and people. I have had to look within myself to find out exactly how, when and where those desires had warped me.

     At the age of 35 I was sentenced to life without the possibility of parole for the deaths of two people due to my drug addiction. I have realized all the unhappiness I have caused others. Discovering my indifference and lack of empathy has helped me move forward towards correction. Now I know this is a lifetime process of healing. I have dropped the blaming of others.

     I was abandoned and unloved growing up. So I drank, took drugs, slept around to rid myself from the emptiness I felt. I was lost in shame, lying, fear, and denial. Yet, by the grace of God, like a thermostat being turned down, those emotions are diminishing and less painful. I have learned to love myself, and others (Matthew 22:39).

     This year I will have been incarcerated for 31 years. My prayer is that you never let yourself get caught up in a lifestyle to take anything, especially another human being’s life. You will have to live with this pain for the rest of your life. Please don’t think I am making excuses or that I seek pity. I do seek that you never have to be behind bars. Thank you for letting me tell my story.

Shyrl’s story:

     At the age of one month old my mother abandoned me and I was raised by my grandmother in Madera, California. My step-grandfather would get drunk on the weekends and start shooting his shotgun in the house. My grandmother and I would hide under the bed, or run down the road where my mother lived about a mile away. 

     While growing up there, my grandmother had to work in different homes, taking care of elderly people, occasionally spending the night at their homes.That left me with my step-grandfather who molested me. If I wasn’t with him, I was left with my next door neighbor whose grandfather also molested me. After learning how to avoid them, my boy cousins picked up the abuse where they left off. The molestation went on for about five years.

Being afraid and ashamed of what was done to me, I never shared it with my grandmother or any other family member. During my school years I was made fun of because I was more developed than the other girls my age and because of my dark skin. As I grew older, sex was the way to get attention and feel loved. I never felt loved by my mother. I know my grandmother loved me, though she never said the words. It was different seeing my cousins having that love from their mother.

     I never knew the man that my mother hoped was my father, except for the time he brought his daughter to compare us. We didn’t look anything like each other. My mother had a one night affair with my father. I only knew my real dad a few years before he died.

     My mother would stop by my grandmother’s house and bring my brothers and sister on occasion. I remember being ten years old, when she spanked me just to let me know she was my mother. I can’t recall what I did, but she kept saying, “So you are not going to cry.” 

     When I was twelve years old, she took my half siblings and moved to Michigan. My step-father said I was too black to go. All of his family were lighter skinned.

     When I was sixteen, I met some kids from San Francisco and went to visit their family. They gave me some kind of pill and something to drink. I passed out.They said they thought I was dead; the only reason they did not throw me in the San Francisco bay was because I took a breath. They put me out at my grandmother’s house. This was my first experience with drugs and alcohol.

     After my mother came back from Michigan, she moved to Sacramento. My grandmother sent me there for the summer. I ended up getting pregnant by an older man. I went back to my grandmother to tell her. She said I was an adult now. I decided to go to San Francisco to visit a childhood crush guy. I always gave my grandmother the addresses of where I would be. My mother got the address, and called the police and had me placed in juvenile hall. After that, my grandmother did not let my mother interfere with trying to raise me “on the side.”

     Growing up I witnessed the immorality of family members drinking, fighting, and wild behavior. This was what was normal was to me. I was taught you don’t call the police, or tell anyone what happened in the house. Keeping everything a secret was the core belief of my rearing.

     My son was born when I was seventeen. Then I married my high school boyfriend. Less than a month after we were married, he was drafted into the army and sent to Germany. My mother gave me Valium to help calm me down. When they drank, I was offered some. That was the true beginning of my addictions.

     A year later, my husband wrote me a “Dear Jane” letter while he was overseas, so he could live the single life. Again, I felt abandoned. I started drinking a lot. When he came back, we were reunited. We had a son. But after five years of being beaten by my husband, I left him. Later on, my daughter was born.

     In 1980 I was introduced to crack cocaine. It was an intense high that made me want more and activate my sex drive. My nightmare began. I wrote bad checks, stole from family members, whatever it took to buy drugs. During that time I met my co-defender. We were getting high together. We lived with family members because all the money we got was spent on drugs.

     From there, the nightmare went to rock bottom. On the night of September 18, 1986, my co-defendant and I planned the burglary of William Gruver and Barbara Brien. We had sold them furniture. Later that evening, we went to their apartment and asked them if we could spend the night. Both Mr. Gruver and Ms. Brien were killed in the course of that burglary. My addiction and dishonesty, contributed to ending their lives.

     On December 20, 1990 I began serving a life without parole sentence at Central California Women’s Facility. While in the county waiting on my sentence, I asked God not to give me more more than I could bear: life without the possibility of parole or the death sentence. The night before sentencing I got on my knees and prayed about it. The next day, I felt God had answered my prayer.

     My grandmother always took me to church (church of Christ). I remember hearing them talk about someone always being there for you. I have memories of her carrying me in her arms when we went. But I was too young to understand. While I waited for my sentence in the country jail, I studied the Word on my own. I pretty much knew the plan of salvation while growing up. I surrendered, and knew what I must do. I prayed to God about my wish to be baptized.

     After coming to the prison, I spoke to the chaplain about being baptized. He stated they did not do it. So I filed a grievance and won, so they purchased a “pool.” My next prayer was for someone from the church of Christ to baptize me. Joe Boe,* the minister for the Madera church of Christ at the time, came to visit me. On May 8, 1994, I was baptized for the remission of my sins (Acts 2:38; 22:16). That was the happiest day of my life, to be added the Lord’s church (Acts 2:47). God heard my cry and knew I truly wanted to be His child.The feeling on that day cannot be described in words! The joy of knowing that I had been added to Christ’s church was the best thing in my entire life. (Matthew 16:16-18.)

     I continued to study correspondence courses through the mail, and reading my Bible. Today I am able to do this time knowing there is Someone who loves me without any strings attached. I continue to turn my life over to God, and learn how we are to live righteously. To me that means to live with good and correct behavior. In addition to conforming with the laws of the justice system, we must be humane with honest principles. The knowledge that I have gained from reading my Bible and the self-help groups has helped me to learn and deal with all my character defects and contributing factors which led me to prison. I am grateful to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation for their restorative justice program that they have provided for me here. I take total responsibility for my actions.

     I am no longer a slave to drugs and alcohol because every day I call upon the power of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, to face the person I’ve feared the most, the “drug me” and asked Him to guide me. I thank God who has shown me freedom from alcohol and drugs through His Word.

     The person that I was, no longer exists. By the grace of God, I have learned that all I did was wrong and it will never happen again. Though my life was not a bed of roses, I now know I had choices and I took the wrong ones. I have felt so much shame that it held me hostage. Nothing I can say will undo the pain and suffering I caused the Gruver and Brien families. I have written them to try to apologize, but they have not answered. They have a right to their feelings about me. They still consider me a monster. I understand.

     When I came to prison, I talked to all of my kids and explained how sorry I am for being a bad mother. I had wronged them. They said they understood, but some still hold out, and I can understand how they feel. I pray that one day they will forgive me.

     Beginning in 2003, I began sharing the word of God every Sunday with the women at CCWF. I am an active representative for the Sliver Fox and Senior Committee. This is for women 50 years and older. I work for the Facility Lieutenant’s/Sergeant’s, and am an elected Unit Representative for Building 512, acting as a liaison between inmates and staff. This experience will give me an opportunity to share should I ever be able to enter into society.

     Thank you for seeing me through my experience of life outside and inside a correctional facility. That monster, drugs, had a hold on me. But by the grace of God it doesn’t exist anymore. If by sharing my shame and my story only one person will stop using drugs, it will be a blessing.

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• Joe Boe told me that Shyrl’s brother who was a Christian asked him to visit Shyrl. He did, and later baptized her. Though I don't know all the details, I was told the "co-defendant" did the actual killing of those two people.
• Shyrl plans to request a parole by filing with the California governor. Please pray for Shyrl that she will be faithful to the Lord, regardless of the outcome of her appeal.

Photo attribution: 123rf.com: Copyright: George Tsartsianidis - Greece