By Scott Sullivan
Editor
Mandatory Life
I read the news today, oh boy: “No mandatory life for 19- and 20-year-olds, court decides.”
When I was 19 and 20, I never thought life was optional. At that age, why would I want to? Of course, I hadn’t been convicted of first-degree murder either.
Turns out the Michigan Supreme Court ruled April 10 that persons convicted of homicide at those ages cannot automatically be sentenced to life in prison.
The court majority’s rationale, per justice Elizabeth Welch, was, “A mandatory life without parole sentence that does not allow for consideration of the mitigating factors of youth or the potential for rehabilitation is a grossly disproportionate punishment.” For those under 19 or over 20, I guess it’s different.
The upshot, since the ruling applies retroactively, is more than 600 killers now are eligible for resentencing. That should do wonders for court caseloads. Allegan County had to hire a third circuit court judge last year to handle fast-growing dockets. Now? Don’t look for lawyers filling unemployment lines next to Musk-fired federal workers. Now demand for their services will be greater.
It brings to mind a murder the night of March 23 last year in which Brandon Ortiz-Vite, then 26 but apparently not old enough to know better, shot girlfriend Ruby Garcia to death in Grand Rapids.
He dumped her body by the side of US-131, fled south in her car and the next day turned himself in at Ganges United Methodist Church.
President Donald Trump, then a candidate for a second term, seized the opportunity, visiting Grand Rapids after it was revealed Ortiz-Vite was in the U.S. illegally at the time. His mugshot was featured in Trump TV ads, while the candidate said he had talked with Garcia’s family, though her sister told WOOD-TV that he didn’t.
Gari Voss reported here April 18 last year focusing on Ganges UMC Pastor Marcia Tucker’s experience with a troubled young stranger who had walked in unannounced through an unlocked door.
Tucker said she talked with him for about 20 minutes and, knew he had no place to stay but not that he was a murderer, and offered to put him up overnight in the church’s annex.
Ortiz-Vite, attended the next morning’s Palm Sunday service, slipped out quietly and called 911 to turn himself in. Witnesses saw him throw down his gun before he surrendered.
He has since been sentenced to 39 years in prison for second-degree murder among other charges. If he ever does get paroled, he will be deported.
Garri’s story drew criticism from some for depicting Ortiz-Vite not as a monster but as a human, and for quoting Garcia’s sister saying her family wanted privacy, not political exploitation.
“We’re all in this together,” Tucker said after on behalf of her congregation, “to create a welcoming environment. Let’s treat everyone with respect.
“Healthy debates are natural, but kindness is required,” the pastor said.
Murder and mandatory life are not laughing matters. Ortiz-Vite testified it fully hit him what he’d done after parking Garcia’s car near a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan.
“I just sat down,” he said, “and realized I killed the person I love, and knew that once she was dead, I was also dead.”
Good luck picking up from there.