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OPINION: Matthew Rushin is already thinking about the molasses-colored pepper shaker his mother cooks.
The 22-year-old American citizen with autism has told her that the national dish of Guyana, where she grew up, is the first meal she wants when she returns from prison in the US state of Virginia.
“It takes about five hours,” Lavern Rushin says, planning, without complaint.
For more than a year, since that day a judge sentenced her son to serve 10 years of a 50-year sentence following a life-changing car accident, she has been preparing, pushing and pleading for his return to House.
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For more than a year, since that phone call where she realized her son didn’t quite understand what he was up against, because he asked if he could send Thanksgiving dinner to his cell block, he has been calling US lawmakers, emailing her supporters, and posting photos and prayers for tens of thousands of strangers to see on an Instagram page she titled “Free Matthew Rushin.”
“Oh my, how I miss him,” she wrote there one day. “… He is still the child I hid at night and read stories too. He is still the teenager who took care of me when I had the flu or underwent chemotherapy.”
“Why God?” she wrote another day. “He doesn’t deserve this! The system we trusted failed him. Being black is not a crime! Being autistic is not a crime!”
Another post: “How did my beautiful son become a hashtag? I miss him. I miss him. I miss him with all my heart!”
Free Matthew Rushin / facebook
Rushin’s sentencing brought together autism advocates and Black Lives Matter activists, and left authorities examining the remains of two families to determine whether Rushin deserved the prison sentence they imposed on him.
Almost two years ago, on January 4, 2019, Matthew Rushin left his family’s home in Virginia Beach to buy cakes at a nearby Panera and never returned.
What happened, instead, divided people in his hometown, brought together autism advocates and Black Lives Matter activists, and left Democratic Virginia Gov. Ralph Northam examining the remains of two families to determine whether Rushin deserved the sentence. prison that they imposed on him.
In June, when I first told you about Rushin, who was diagnosed with Asperger and ADHD as a child and later experienced a traumatic brain injury, his family was hopeful that Northam would offer him complete forgiveness and allow him to return home.
This month, Northam granted Rushin a partial and conditional clemency and reduced his sentence.
What he didn’t do, what he didn’t do, was set Rushin free.
Rushin’s tentative release date is now spring, leaving him in limbo that has his family worried.
Concerned about the way the new coronavirus has swept through some American prisons.
Worried that his impending release will make him a target for inmates who do not have appointments back home.
You are concerned that a cyst on your pituitary gland, which has not been checked since the accident, is the reason you are experiencing episodes of temporary blindness.
“I have NOT … I repeat I have NOT heard from Matthew Rushin today!” read a recent post on the “Free Matthew Rushin” page. “Matthew has been complaining that his headaches are getting more and more frequent to the point where he can’t open his eyes. His mental and physical health is deteriorating … This is devastating !! Is he alive? Did something happen to him during the night? He is vulnerable to attack by other inmates when they know he has lost his sight. “
Rushin’s case is complicated and full of devastating details. Two families were irretrievably changed in the accident that left him in police custody and ultimately led him to plead guilty to two counts of malicious injuries. (He also pleaded guilty to a hit-and-run charge in a previous collision that same night.)
“In my opinion, Matthew Rushin took the path of a responsible adult by pleading guilty,” says Danna Cusick. Her husband, George, was driving, and she was in the passenger seat when Rushin’s vehicle collided with theirs. Her husband now lives in a comprehensive care facility, unable to speak or feed himself. “George has been destroyed … A family has been destroyed.”
In a letter he sent to Northam, which he shared with me, he asks him not to shorten Rushin’s sentence any more than he already has.
“Doing so would simply victimize us even more,” it reads. “I sleep in an empty bed. Like an empty table. My days are spent worrying about George. Before the Covid lockdown, I would visit George twice a day to make sure he was dressed and out of bed in a timely manner. as well as to help him with his meals. (It’s hard for me to say ‘feed him’.) Remote visits have been allowed only five or six times since March 12. I want to hug my husband. He. He is backing off from all this time with no stimulation. We Skype twice a week, but it’s hard for him to focus on a small screen. I talk to him during the call with little to no reaction from him. “
Prosecutors have argued that Rushin was trying to commit suicide that night. They described it as a collision in a parking lot, leaving the scene and driving recklessly before heading into oncoming traffic. An investigation found that he was going approximately 104.6 km / h just before the accident and did not hit the brakes.
Rushin’s mother maintains that he did not mean to hurt anyone that night and was forced to sign a plea agreement that was not in his interest.
She, along with advocates from the autism community, have offered detailed explanations of how her autism likely played a role in her actions that night, from her response after the parking lot collision to her confusion about which pedal she stepped on. An interrogation video shows Rushin telling police, “I was slowing down. I can promise you that.”
“I wish I could take the pain away,” Lavern Rushin says of the Cusick family. “I would never want to be that mother sitting here, what I am now, knowing that my son caused this. But was it intentional? No way, no. I accept that they are mad at us. I really do. But I’m not going to let Matthew be a statistic. I’m not giving up my son. “
Thousands of people across the United States have rallied behind Rushin. Some have notable names. Some have autism or are concerned about someone who has it.
And some are still haunted by what happened to another young black man with autism from Virginia whose life was altered by the court system.
Reginald “Neli” Latson was 18 years old and sitting outside a library in his neighborhood in 2010 when someone called the sheriff’s office to report a “suspicious man, possibly in possession of a weapon.” Latson did not have a weapon and had not committed a crime, but ended up wounding an officer during a confrontation.
He then spent years in prison, much of it in solitary confinement, before then-Democratic Governor of Virginia Terry McAuliffe granted him a conditional clemency.
On January 16, 2019, McAuliffe commemorated that decision by tweeting: “Today 4 years ago I forgave Neli Latson, who should never have been sent to jail.”
At the time, Rushin was sitting behind bars.
Lavern Rushin has asked state officials to allow her son to return home in time for the holidays, and they should.
Before the accident, Rushin wrote poetry, played the piano, and took classes at Old Dominion University. He was a contributing member of society. Keeping you locked up in the middle of a pandemic is of no benefit to anyone. What happened to the Cusick family is heartbreaking. Releasing Rushin now doesn’t make it any less.
The details of the conditional pardon reflect that, in contrast to the 50 years he was given, the sentencing guidelines for his sentences set a range from two years and seven months to six years and four months. Northam adjusted his sentence to 10 years for each sentence, with a seven-year, five-month suspension, to be served simultaneously.
The parole also requires you to remain under the supervision of a parole officer for five years and prohibits you from owning a firearm or driving for the rest of your life.
On the day their son is released, Lavern Rushin and her husband plan to take him to a trauma center, so doctors can determine if the cyst is causing his bouts of blindness.
Then they will finally take you home to stay.
In an email Matthew sent me through his mom, he remembers the moment he found out about conditional forgiveness.
“I cried because I realized that all my mother’s hard work had finally paid off,” she writes. “It is a day that I will always remember.”
“When I get home, I’m enjoying everything I took for granted,” he adds.
Then list some of those things: Sit outside. Breathe in the morning air. Eating pretzels.
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