Julie Anderson

When Julie’s son Eric was convicted of murder and sentenced to life without the possibility of parole, her world was shattered. “It was devastating. … I was in disbelief for a long time. Like, really, you’re just never going to release him?” she recalls. Julie started advocating for her son and for other people who were convicted and incarcerated at a very young age. Now, she celebrates her son’s release while continuing to fight for a more compassionate criminal legal system.

Community Violence

Julie describes her young son as “a really thin and smart kid. According to her, Eric was brilliant, though reluctant to do his homework because he “thought it was a tedious task that he didn’t need.” When he got into high school, he became more and more interested in being a “badass” like other kids. 

Unfortunately, they lived in Garfield Ridge, where gangs were prevalent, just like in other neighborhoods of Chicago in the 1980s and 1990s. Eric was introduced to a gang by one of his classmates, with whom he took the bus. From then on, “he started skipping school, and he went off on a bad tangent,” Julie says. As violence between gangs escalated, her son was involved in several incidents, including the shooting that led to his incarceration.

Eric was arrested the day after the shooting, around 4 a.m. Julie still has vivid memories of that morning. “The police searched our house for the gun, which they didn’t find. My husband, Rick, is also a police officer, and it wasn’t one of his guns. There was no evidence.”

Julie and Rick followed Eric to the police station. “We knew we could call an attorney. So we called one and told Eric not to make any statement,” Julie recalls. In retrospect, she understands how privileged her son was. “The other kids didn’t come off that well. They were brought back and interrogated before their attorneys and before their parents got there. Most parents weren’t allowed in at all,” she says. 

Eric remained in jail and was tried about a year and a half after his arrest. Julie and Rick attended their son’s trial, but because they had to testify, they were not allowed to be in the courtroom and waited anxiously in the hall. At the end of the 4-day trial, Eric was found guilty and sentenced to the mandatory minimum sentence for double homicide in Illinois at that time. Although he was the youngest of a group of seven involved in the crime — all between the ages of 15 and 23 — Eric was tried as an adult and given one of the harshest sentences. For Julie, it was crushing.  

The lack of evidence made the punishment even more painful. “Eric was arrested and convicted on the testimony of two [of his co-defendants] who agreed to cooperate with the prosecutor in exchange for leniency in sentencing. He was actually convicted under the accountability theory because there was no physical evidence at all,” Julie explains. In Illinois, the law of accountability allows the state to convict a person of a crime with which they were associated, even if they were not physically present. Prosecutors used accountability theory to charge and convict several of Eric’s co-defendants. “The other four kids were not present; they weren’t at the park, they were nowhere near the park. Nobody even knows where they were, but they got sentenced to life without parole,” Julie laments.

Supporting A Loved One In Prison

“Having a loved one in prison is kind of like death, but way worse because the person’s not gone, and so you don’t have that closure piece of it,” Julie says. She also acknowledges that her whole family found it difficult to cope with the stigma associated with having a family member incarcerated. “It was hard for Eric’s siblings, especially his brother who is three years younger and who was attending the same school. In addition, some family members caused a big rift,” she shares. 

In addition to the emotional toll a lengthy incarceration takes on families, there is also a hefty financial burden. “It’s expensive, very expensive because here is someone who should have grown up and been on his own and supporting himself, and you’re sending money because they don’t make money there, in prison.” She adds, “What they do make [in prison] is a couple of dollars a day or something. And the food is pretty inadequate. And they need other things, clothing that they can buy from there, and toiletries.” In prisons, these basic items are very pricey. What Julie found particularly overwhelming were visits to the penitentiary. “For the most part of his incarceration, Eric was in Menard, approximately 330 miles away from Chicago, and he was allowed seven visits a month. We visited seven times,” she says, then continues, “Super expensive! We drive down there a lot of times, visit, stay overnight, visit, drive home. So you have gas, hotel stay, and you’re eating out, plus you’re spending money in the visiting room, which is super expensive.” She concludes, “Financially, it’s really a lot. I often say I’m still working now because of that; otherwise, I would have been retired.”

Riding an Emotional Roller Coaster

Attorney fees were another significant component of the financial assistance Eric’s family provided, especially during the appeal process. “It took quite a few years and a lot of money to go back and argue that you can’t really send someone who is 15 to prison for the rest of his life. But the appellate court just wasn’t hearing it,” Julie remembers. 

After several years of post-conviction appeals, the family got some relief when the U.S. Supreme Court held in Miller v. Alabama that a mandatory life sentence for anyone under 18 at the time of the offense was unconstitutional. “It was such a lifeline. I can remember hearing that on the radio, pulling over and texting my friends, saying ‘the U.S. Supreme Court just said a life sentence for anyone under the age of 18 is cruel and unusual punishment. Eric will get a second chance.’ It was amazing!” 

Julie soon realized it was not that simple. “[Miller] was in 2012. At that time, Eric had been in for 17 years. It was just a roller coaster after that because the state didn’t want it to be retroactive. We had to wait for a case to come to the Illinois Supreme Court and for the Court to rule.” 

The family’s wait was over in 2014 when the Illinois Supreme Court ruled in People v. Adolfo Davis that Miller applied retroactively statewide. Yet, it wasn’t the end of the fight for Eric and his loved ones. “When Adolfo went back to court, they gave him life again, and we were crushed,” Julie says. “Eventually, that sentence was reduced. But it was like, you have a chance, you don’t have a chance, you have a chance, you don’t have a chance. It was a roller coaster for myself and all of my family members.”

“I Served Almost 28 Years, Just Like My Son”

For many years, the thought of Eric being out was “surreal.” Julie was often told that her “son was going to die in prison.” When he was finally released after spending almost three decades behind bars, she was in disbelief and completely overwhelmed. “I don’t have any words to express what it feels like as a mother to see your child walk out free after so many dark and painful years,” she shares. The memories of that day are engraved in her mind. “What moved me most was the men that gathered on the [other] side of the fence. As they raised their arms in tribute to Eric, I knew for him, leaving these men, his family, was heartbreaking.”

Several months after his return, Julie’s son is navigating the daily challenges of reintegration. She knows he has “a lot to learn in this free world,” but as a mother, she is happy he is now home and “appreciates every moment.” 

Through Eric’s experience, Julie gained insight into the flaws of the legal and carceral systems. “I served almost 28 years, just like my son,” she points out. I don’t think the [criminal legal] system is just at all. And as far as prison, it’s the most oppressive system…” she trails off. “We should be embarrassed in the United States, and in the state of Illinois, of how we treat other human beings. It’s despicable!” 

For Julie, changing these systems remains a priority so that other families, especially mothers, will not experience the pain she went through. “I talk to moms whose kids just got arrested and charged with something, and they’re gonna be going to court. And I think, ‘Wow, your cute pie doesn’t really have a chance because most prosecutors and judges have made up their minds.’ It’s sad.”

Advocating for Others

Throughout her son’s incarceration, Julie met several people who helped and supported her. Among them was Jobi Cates, the founder of Restore Justice. Then, part of a coalition of families with incarcerated loved ones, Julie joined the organization in its early days to help advocate for children and young people behind bars. Now, as the organization’s Outreach Director, she manages the Communities and Relatives of Illinois Incarcerated Citizens (CRIIC), a support group that she established in 2007 to bring together people whose loved ones were sentenced to juvenile life without parole in Illinois and that has since been expanded to include anyone who has a loved one incarcerated. CRIIC members advocate for humane prison conditions and better policies for families to maintain connections with their loved ones. 

One of CRIIC’s most popular events is the annual Christmas cards signing for those who are still incarcerated. For Julie, it’s about bringing joy, hope, and encouragement to people living in a stressful environment.

Julie received the unwavering support of CRIIC members throughout the tumultuous time of Eric’s incarceration, and she has nothing but gratitude for them. “I have to say that group, of mostly women, I mean, there are men, but it’s mostly women, and it’s mostly moms and grandmothers, and they are just the most tenacious and strongest women that I know.”

Julie created another support group for families when she became aware of the unique challenges facing families with returning loved ones. Loved Ones Reunited supports families and their formerly incarcerated loved ones to navigate issues such as housing, jobs, and relationships after returning home from prison. “Problems related to reentry can be stressful, and no one understands that better than someone who is going through it,” Julie says. “We meet every other month and talk about how our loved ones are doing, and mostly how we are handling it. There are so many things. I know I would be lost without these people to lean on.”

Throughout her journey, which was “often filled with tears of pain or hope,” Julie learned a lot. Drawing from her experience, she wants to help more people get involved. “It is important for people to stand up for themselves and their loved ones. A lot of people get very intimidated because they are treated poorly. People should always remember that they have power. They shouldn’t be intimidated that [prison staff] will take it out on them or their loved ones,” she said. Then she concludes, “If everyone stood for themselves, I think we’d be moving forward at a much quicker pace than we are.” 

Julie is aware that incarceration primarily affects people of color. “We lock up tons of black men, brown and black, but mostly black men, and we pull them out of their communities, and we leave their moms and their grandmas, and their aunts to raise these boys; and it’s, it’s just really hard for these women to work a job, try to maintain a family life and support someone in prison, you know, and send money.” 

She believes early intervention is critical to stopping the “school-to-prison pipeline” that seems to be the trend in predominantly black and brown neighborhoods. In addition to more after-school programs to keep children busy and away from trouble, she thinks there is a dire need for more social workers. “Lots of kids go through traumatizing situations. We need more social workers to help them,” Julie says. She adds that schools should not just expel children but try to uncover the roots of their problems. “I wish we had more social workers who would knock on doors and say, ‘Your child has not been coming to school. What can we do to help?’ Not an accusation to the parent, because they might get defensive, but an inclusive conversation to offer solutions.” 

While enjoying her son’s return, Julie continues to be a staunch advocate of more compassionate laws and a more humane carceral system. She has shared her story in Springfield to help change legislators’ minds and understand that no child is irredeemable. She was part of Restore Justice’s successful efforts to pass HB 1064, which made Illinois the 26th state to abolish life without parole sentences for people under 18 and extend parole opportunities to most people 20 and younger. She continues to fight for the bill to become retroactive so that people who are currently incarcerated for offenses committed when they were 20 or younger can receive parole consideration.