How to get out of prison during a pandemic
By Logan Dietz
Christopher Marrero’s reality changed radically about a year ago, but not in a way that could be called typical. He granted house arrest after serving eight years of his 15-year prison sentence. Marrero, 62, and other prisoners he was incarcerated with were released in an effort to stop the spread of COVID-19 in the prison population.
“When COVID first began we had lockdowns, where you had single-file lines to go down to the chow hall and pick up your food and then right back to your room that was built for four people but with six other men, and that was only at lunchtime. Everything else they delivered to us,” Marrero explained. “I wake up now and can walk in the sun, use a phone, use money again, it feels weird.”
The beginning of the pandemic was particularly unnerving. He or his cellmate may have had COVID; he can’t be sure.
“When [the pandemic] started we were with each other all the time, and I actually got sick earlier on in January and got over whatever flu I had,” he recalled. “My cellmate though got extremely sick, every day the people from medical would come in and gun his forehead and he didn’t have a fever, so he just stayed with us and we took care of him because what happens is if they took him, they were going to be taking the whole unit there.”
Early in the COVID-19 pandemic, prison populations were among the most susceptible to infections. Marrero saw this firsthand, including the deaths of several men he knew.
“There were five other guys who died from getting sick. Chuch, whom I knew of and some of the others you’d nod your head to, but you didn’t want to be too friendly in prison,” he said as the laundry machine in his garage tumbled.
Marrero is a big man with a big smile and a calming voice, enjoying sweats from head to toe and bound by an ankle monitor. With roots in Cuba and in Italy, he grew up on the northern and southern coasts of the Atlantic.
Now, thanks to efforts to thin out the prison population in the face of rampant rates of COVID in prisons — rates of infection are about five times higher for incarcerated people than among the general population, according to the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) — Marrero has been granted the ability continue his house arrest until his sentence is completed.
Marrero was born in Staten Island, New York and spent years as an actor, eventually finding his way to Florida while doing odd jobs.
“My whole life has been up and down, there were times I was successful but also times I was so down under, it was pathetic,” he said. “I didn’t know when it was going to end. At that time though, I was just getting my foot into real estate but then it happened, I got sent to prison.”
Originally, he had been sentenced for conspiracy to commit fraud against the IRS, a crime he said was like a badge of honor in prison. “Everyone knows who you are before you even hit the compound, they have your paperwork,” Marrero explained. “I’m white collar, I tried to screw the government, they loved me. I had a badge of honor compared to some people. Especially against the IRS.”
He believes his 15-year sentence was too harsh of a punishment. He was not able to be there for his wife’s passing nor his son’s graduation from the University of Central Florida. “I served eight years for making phone calls when I’ve heard people have committed murder and spent less time in prison.”
Marrero could not be more grateful to be out of prison, as he now lives with his son in Pompano Beach. He seems to be making the most of his opportunities, finding a job at a local Hobby Lobby for the holiday season.
The commute from work, though, has begun to take its toll on him. “Feels like I’m a part of society again,” he said jokingly with a grin.
Marrero, for all his experiences, has no regrets for what has happened in his life. He looks at the bonds and experiences and remembers them fondly. “They were like wartime bonds; you meet and find people you would have never otherwise, and it is a part of the journey,” he sighed.
Along with a gratitude list he writes every morning, he has a list of goals to accomplish for when his homestay ends, and he returns to society a free man. At the top of his list, he hopes to try back into real estate as well as continue to write his script ideas from prison, one of these being an interplanetary story of hope along with a biopic on Vlad, the Dracula of Transylvania.
