After George Ryan’s conviction for multiple crimes of public corruption, government prosecutors calculated that federal guidelines called for a prison sentence of eight to 10 years. In September 2006, U.S. District Judge Rebecca Pallmeyer weighed that and other variables — including the advanced age and health problems of Ryan and his wife, Lura Lynn — before settling on a lesser sentence, 61/2 years.
Ryan reported to prison in November 2007. Over the intervening three years, his attorneys repeatedly have sought to have him freed. In a new court filing, they say Lura Lynn Ryan appears to have a fast-growing lung tumor that could reduce her life expectancy to three to six months. “This is new information, and it’s urgent information,” Ryan attorney Andrea Lyon told the Tribune.
That’s gut-wrenching news for her and her loved ones, as many people who have faced a similar family health crisis can attest. Mrs. Ryan has been immensely loyal to her husband throughout his criminal case.
We also appreciate the hardships that any prison sentence creates — for incarcerated parents, their children, their spouses and other loved ones. Imprisonment is about restriction of freedom, but also about separation from one’s life and denial of routine contacts. Prisons brim with inmates who would undo their past crimes if only they could go home to deal with their loved ones’ illnesses and other severe needs.
Ryan’s attorneys also contend that a U.S. Supreme Court decision restricting the scope of prosecutions for so-called honest services fraud should void some of the former governor’s convictions on racketeering and other corruption counts. Pallmeyer is weighing that argument now and has said she will rule soon. The legal issues are complex: Prosecutors and defense attorneys profoundly differ on whether Ryan should be resentenced to a shorter term, such as time served, because of the Supreme Court’s ruling.
The judge will deem what she believes to be fair treatment for Ryan under the law. We trust that she remains attentive, as she was during and after his trial, not only to defense pleas but also to the seriousness of his offenses and the loss of life tied to truck drivers who had paid bribes for Illinois licenses during Ryan’s years as secretary of state.
As Pallmeyer ponders whether to free Ryan, we hope she will focus on these matters of the law and give his personal life no different consideration than any judge would for any prisoner.
Our hope that Pallmeyer sticks to the law and not to personal considerations is not a call for heartlessness. It is a call for equity. Each of the Federal Bureau of Prisons’ 210,000 prisoners — and their struggling families — deserves the same treatment as that merited by inmate 16627-424. They should have no reason to conclude that prominence, clout or a family emergency earned Ryan an early out.
For other Illinois politicians tempted to use their offices for personal gain, the lesson should be obvious: Don’t do the crime if your family won’t want you to do the time.
