Voices From the Inside: “This Was Not Mercy”
Thomas Schilk

By Thomas Schilk

Tom Schilk was born and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He has four lovely sisters. He’s currently in his 37th year of a Mandatory Life Sentence. He was friends with Bruce Norris, who tragically died while awaiting commutation.

In September of 2019, six of us traveled from SCI-Phoenix and joined eighteen others, from prisons across the state, at SCI-Camp Hill after being granted public hearings for our respective commutation requests. While there was a lot of anxiety, there was a lot of hope too. After dark decades of virtually no mercy being granted to men and women doing life in Pa., it looked like a new dawn had finally arrived. The recently seated Lt. Gov., John Fetterman, had promised that worthy lifers would have a real chance for mercy via the commutation process. In fact, some men we knew had actually received mercy since his election.



The bus ride to Camp Hill was hellacious. None of us had gotten much sleep the night before when we were roused at 4 a.m., totally dehydrated because there would be no chance to use the bathroom for hours once we were in transit. Then, the usual chains, manacles and the infernal “black box” that secures the cuffs and positions your hands in a punishing position. My wrists were bruised for days after the trip. A few hours into the trip, the fucking bus broke down! And it was worse still for my friend Bruce, whose legs were cramping up.



Bruce was about 67 then, and just a good man. I’ve known him for over 30 years and consider him a good friend. We were on the same tier for many years back at Graterford, went to Villanova together and had lots of great conversations, often about Philly sports. Bruce had a clerical job for many years, was a referee and helped tutor other men in the Villanova program as well. Oh, in Latin no less! If I ever needed anything, I knew I could just run down to Bruce’s hut — if he had it, I could get it.

Very easygoing, Bruce had a warm smile for everybody. He took responsibility for his crime and was very contrite about the harm he caused. I was hoping that Bruce would be allowed to go home to his family after more than four decades. He deserved it.



After sweating it out for who knows how long, we were moved from the broke down bus to one that was still running and then back on the road again. Bruce had managed to somehow reach his leg and massage out the cramp, at least a bit. Body hurting, hungry and totally dried out, I was exhausted myself and felt bad for the other guys, especially those older than me. Still, we all joked about how much we’d be willing to go through if it meant mercy.

There were more twists and turns but finally, after starting the journey at 4 a.m., we were placed in cells at Camp Hill at 8:30 p.m.! No time to rest though — our interviews in front of the pardons board would take place the very next day. I didn’t sleep a wink.



The next afternoon, Wednesday, we were chained again and placed in a side room to wait for the interviews. We sat chained for hours. Bruce’s legs were cramping again and we all were reeling from the whole experience. Yet, we hoped it would all be worth it.

After the interviews, we were taken back to our cells until Friday, when we’d hear their decisions. Tony, Wavy and Dip thankfully were granted mercy. I was denied, which was devastating for me and my family after so much hope. James and Bruce were put “under advisement” and would find out their fates sometime in the future. Some days later, we were transported back to Phoenix.



Sadly, within six months, James was denied mercy; while Bruce was left twisting in the wind for almost another year and a half. He said that he was suffering a lot of anxiety but they didn’t outright say no, so, hope was still alive.

Then, some weeks ago, the pardons board finally made their decision and thankfully Bruce had received mercy! When he told me, he first expressed anguish that I wasn’t leaving too but clearly he was relieved. It was mercy, not only for Bruce but for his family and friends too. Of course, our families and friends suffer along with us. Bruce told me, “The hard parts over now.” Now, all he needed was the Governor’s signature.



How long would it take before Bruce would be released? No one was certain. When Wazir was granted commutation, he waited longer than a year before he was finally released. That was a big concern because Wazir was eighty, there were COVID cases on his block and one fellow had already died there. I talked to many people then, including a reporter, on his behalf trying to get him the hell of here. Mercifully, and no credit to me, Wazir made it out of here alive. The last I heard, he’s well.



Over the last couple of weeks, there’d been a lot of COVID cases on the block that I’m on too. Juan, Barney, Martin, David and a few guys, who I only know to see, were all taken off the block in wheelchairs. Some stayed in the infirmary here while others, like Barney, were sick enough to go the outside hospital.

It’s been sad and spooky for sure. I’m not worried for myself, I’ve had COVID already; but I am very concerned for my friends here. About two weeks ago, they came with a wheelchair and took away Bruce. I found out soon after that he died.

I am so sad. Now, what of his family? All they’ve been through these long years and after so much hope, now this. My heart is so heavy.



This was not mercy.



There were more than 5000 men and women sentenced to life in prison in Pa. before the promise of hope for worthy lifers. By all indications, there will still be more than 5000 men and women doing life without hope for mercy by the time Fetterman moves on.

Still, right now, its Bruce’s family and friends that should be comforted. There was no mercy for them either.



For me, no pity or prayers please. What’s needed is tangible support to change the merciless criminal justice system in this state and beyond. If you want to help, contact politicians indicating your want of such reform. And, vote for those who support that reform. Here are some good orgs that are in solidarity with prisoners:



— Abolitionist Law Center

— Amistad Law Project

— CADBI (The Coalition to Abolish Death By Incarceration)

— Decarcerate Pa

— FAMM

~Thomas Schilk

You can take action on behalf of people in prison waiting for mercy: Urge Gov. Tom Wolf to take immediate steps to protect the lives and safety of the 40,000 people who are incarcerated in the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections.
['Famm Foundation']
['Mandatory Minimums', 'Pennsylvania', 'Clemency', 'Famm', 'Prison Reform']