My name is Heather Jarvis, and I’m calling from the Ohio Reformatory for Women in Marysville, Ohio. I sat down with Heather Koon on a brisk morning by the bars crossed on the window. Inevitably, the world has also been cold to her since she was convicted. Heather is a 32 year old, smart, caring person. I found her to be a good friend and a excellent listener in the time that I’ve known her. This morning, she is very somber. This isn’t an easy topic for her to talk about. She has had her trust violated by fellow inmates and staff, so her vulnerability is admirable.
She wants you to see her, not her charges, not her number. See her. Three days into her stay, a staff member called her a worthless homo, leaving her to feel broken and defeated. She has spent the years since trying to get that tape out of her head. She believed that’s what she would be forever. Some would argue she deserved it, but vengeance is not justice. In her opinion, the worst thing about the justice system is the harsh sentences without them really considering their past. Heather’s past was hell. She was lying to everyone, including herself. She was addicted to her broken relationship. She suffered abuse of all kinds at his hands. Also addicted to alcohol, she worked but called off often. She stated she needed time for the bruises to heal.
She leaves behind a family that loves her unconditionally in her lifelong dream of being a mother, along with a chance to say goodbye as loved ones pass. Her core values are honesty, do not harm others, and stand up for what you believe in. She stated to me her crime went against everything she believed in, but now she has a clear mind. Regrets will eat you alive, so I do my best to fight them off every day, she said. When she was first sentenced to an LWOP [Life Without Parole], she lost all hope, but has since decided her hope is not the system’s to steal. Here’s Heather.
“Life. That word once meant living out my dreams, reaching goals I had set back in my early childhood, such as starting a daycare center with my mom. When the judge says that it feels like you’ve been punched, it’s so scary to think this could be it for me. When I meet other lifers, I look at them in awe. How do they stay so strong? Sometimes I wonder if I can survive another day, another goodbye. My fate lies in the hands of strangers who only know me on paper. They don’t know the real me or my story. At times, I feel so alone. It’s so terrifying, so very overwhelming. A lot of people have said, “Wow, I would have killed myself with that sentence.” I hold on because not all hope is lost yet. That, and my family has been through a lot already. I couldn’t be that selfish. If I could go back, I would have walked away. When my grandfather, who wasn’t a begging man, all but begged me to come home, I should have gone. I feel guilty every single day. I believe stealing innocence is worse than stealing a life. I would like to tell my victims and their families I’m beyond sorry for all that I took from them. And to my family, I’m sorry my selfish actions have kept me away. My name is Heather Koon, and I am a life worthy of progress.”
These commentaries are recorded by Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio.