Barbara Eckes wanted her son’s killer to get parole. She had forgiven him years ago.

But forgiveness will not set you free in Alabama.

It didn’t matter to the Alabama parole board, nor a statewide victim’s rights group, that the mother appealed for a second chance for her son’s killer. Her son, an off-duty police officer, was fatally, and accidentally, run over in 2005. She thought the driver had served his time.

But in Alabama, where paroles have all but slowed to a trickle, the powerful parole board will almost always listen to the attorney general requests to keep people in prison, and mostly ignore the occasional calls for leniency from victims, from the people who were robbed or hurt or wronged.

Like the appeal from Barbara Eckes.

“Every time I called an official from the state of Alabama, I was met with resistance because my family and I have chosen to forgive Mr. Layton and our hope is that he will be granted parole and given a second chance at a good life,” she said in a 2021 affidavit.

Doug Layton Jr., the son of the iconic Alabama football announcer by the same name, was convicted in 2006 of murder and sentenced to life in prison for the death of Jason Eckes. Eckes, 32, was a Birmingham police officer who was off duty and riding his bike in Homewood when Layton, driving a stolen truck under the influence and fleeing from the cops, accidentally ran over and killed Eckes. Layton said he thought he hit a garbage can and didn’t stop.

“It was just devastating to feel like that I actually, you know, through my choices, took a human life,” Layton told AL.com.

Eckes said she had a feeling her son would want Layton paroled, and would want her to help him.

She’s having to relive the loss of her son to repeatedly try to correct a mistaken belief that the family objects to Layton’s parole, she said in her affidavit. “Keeping Mr. Layton in prison forever is not what my family wishes,” said Eckes.

The parole board was not swayed. They still denied his release.

‘Give them a chance’

The Eckes family isn’t the only one who has asked the parole board to give the person responsible for their loved one’s killing another chance.

“I have no faith in that parole board thing,” said Brenda Trammer.

Her son, Tavaris Trammer, was shot in Montgomery 2008 by a homeowner whose house Tavaris Trammer and his friends were breaking into. He died a few weeks later. The homeowner who pulled the trigger wasn’t charged.

But the two young men Tavaris Trammer was with were convicted for their friend’s murder due to Alabama’s accomplice liability law – which allows people to be charged with murder if they are participating in a felony that results in death, whether or not they actually pulled the trigger.

The Jarrett brothers were teens when the shooting happened. Dallas Jarrett was sentenced to 30 years in prison, and Henry Jarrett was sentenced to 20 years.

Trammer has known the Jarretts since they were boys, running through her house with her son. She said she’s like a “second mama” to the men, and Tavaris Trammer had a baby with the Jarretts’ sister.

“My son should have been a mentor to them and tell them not to do these things that were wrong,” she said about her 21-year-old son. “And they’ve been in jail ever since. They did a lot of years. Let them go, give them a chance at life. They were young.”

When the brothers went up for parole in June 2023, Trammer spoke on behalf of both of their releases. But a victim’s advocacy group, Victims of Crime and Leniency or VOCAL, often speaks at parole hearings to block the release of prisoners who were involved in a violent crime. Even though the brothers didn’t fire a shot, and even though they lost their friend, VOCAL argued against their parole.

Trammer didn’t think that was fair.

“They acted like VOCAL was the victim and not I,” she said. “Like my words didn’t mean nothing… That was my child.”

“They are not right. Those people are not right,” said Trammer. “They missed their calling and they need to revamp the (parole) board ASAP.”

The victims group

Formed in 1982, VOCAL is a nonprofit advocacy group fueled by volunteers, said the group’s longtime state director Jannette Grantham, who just stepped down. They monitor legislation and often speak in opposition at parole hearings.

“Though VOCAL usually advocates alongside those impacted directly by a violent crime, there are times where VOCAL is speaking on behalf of the public at large,” said Grantham.

Grantham said the group primarily focuses on cases involving a death, sex offense or crime against a child. She said they typically don’t get involved in cases like burglary or drug possession unless asked by a family member.

According to data gathered by the ACLU over a 10-week period last year, the parole board heard 251 parole hearings in June and July of 2023. That same data showed that someone from the Alabama Attorney General’s Office or VOCAL opposed parole in more than 78% of hearings.

Inmates are not allowed to attend their own hearings in Alabama. In many cases, the three-member parole board hears a brief statement from VOCAL and the attorney general’s office opposing the inmate’s parole. And while the two groups often align in opposing release, they share closer ties than just a common philosophy on reform.

Katherine Robertson, chief counsel for the Alabama Attorney General’s Office, is listed as the vice president of VOCAL on publicly available tax forms.

A change of heart

Another case where VOCAL fought the parole of an inmate against the wishes of a victim’s family was the case of Connie Tozzi.

Chris McCurley was the commander of the Etowah County Major Crimes and Drug Task Force when he was killed during a drug raid in October of 1997. Three other officers were wounded.

Ezra Peterson, who opened fire on the officers, was convicted of capital murder and three counts of attempted murder and sentenced to death row. He died by suicide in prison in 1999.

Tozzi, who was Peterson’s girlfriend and was accused of feeding Peterson more ammunition during the shootout, was sentenced to 40 years behind bars.

Nathan McCurley, the slain officer’s son, said his family argued against her parole at first. “I remember the first parole hearing,” said McCurley, thinking back to 2008.

“I lamented the fact that my dad would never meet my daughter and she would never get to know him. I channeled that anger and loss into the words I spoke that day saying she did not deserve to be released as more of a retribution or revenge than any sort of actual justice.”

The McCurleys operated that way for years.

But in 2018, the McCurleys “wised up and knew what my father would have actually wanted,” he told AL.com via email. “We spoke to each other and finally came to the realization of what my dad would have wanted.”

The family argued for her release.

“She has done a lot in prison to better herself and it is clear that she is no threat,” said McCurley. “Unfortunately, I don’t think they will ever grant her parole.”

“My dad was a good man and I’m not just saying that because he was my dad and was a cop killed in action… My dad was definitely a better person than I am and I strive to be more like him all the time. My dad would not see the value of keeping Tozzi locked up. She has done her time, she has taken advantage of any and all opportunities that were offered her while in jail.”

Tozzi’s last parole hearing was in September. One of the other cops who was wounded during the shootout spoke against her release, along with someone from the Alabama Attorney General’s Office and a member of VOCAL.

The McCurley family wasn’t there. He said he and his family “made our feelings clear at the previous hearing.” Records from parole board hearings reflect only who spoke, but not what they said. Nathan McCurley said he would have been fine with VOCAL speaking for the other victims who wanted their help, but does not want them to speak for his dad.

“How are we benefiting society or anyone actually by keeping her away from her family?” he said.

‘And they still denied these boys’

While having a victim forgive you is not enough to be paroled in Alabama, neither is having a clean discipline record nor meeting the state guidelines.

In fact, being deemed safe enough to work in the community during the day, serving fast food or working at a factory, is not enough either.

Dallas Jarrett, according to court records, remains incarcerated at the Childersburg Community Work Center. He’s already served 16 years for his friend’s killing during that home invasion. At the time he was denied parole, when Trammer spoke on his behalf, he was working for the city of Talladega.

Jarrett’s manager at the city wrote to a judge on his behalf, saying he is a hard worker and “the type of employee that any employer searches for when hiring.”

“I thought for sure when I spoke they were going to give them a second chance at life,” said Trammer, the victim’s mom. “But they didn’t.”

Dallas Jarrett won’t get another hearing before the board until the summer of 2028. Henry Jarrett will have to serve out the rest of his sentence, which ends that same year.

“My son’s gone. You can’t bring him back,” Trammer said. “And they still denied these boys.”

A second chance

Layton said he knew he wasn’t going to get paroled despite already serving over 16 years for accidentally running over Jason Eckes in 2005. He was also serving time at the Childersburg Community Work Center and was working at Talladega College.

He usually worked six days a week for 25 cents an hour, he said.

He saw other prisoners get denied parole constantly. Some of his friends even stopped going to their visits with the parole officer who did their interviews before the board looked at the case. He said the inmates knew this board wasn’t going to let them out. They didn’t want to get their hopes up.

Layton’s hopes weren’t up, either.

In 2023, the Alabama parole board let out just 8% of those who were eligible for parole. It’s a stark decline from years past. Alabama let out more than half of those up for parole in 2018.

Layton hired an attorney to represent him before the board, since inmates aren’t allowed to attend their own hearings.

There was no public hearing when Layton went up for parole in 2021 because of the COVID-19 pandemic, so the Eckes family wasn’t able to go and “make clear our wishes” for Layton being paroled, she said.

Their wishes didn’t make a difference. Layton was denied and his next hearing was pushed back five years — the maximum amount of time before the state would let him try again.

“I knew that when they set me off five, it was pretty much a death sentence,” he said. “If you have a life sentence in the state of Alabama right now, you might as well have a death sentence. Because you’re not getting out.”

Layton struggled to find the words he would have said to the board given the chance. “I don’t know. I got so bitter towards watching everybody else that it would be hard. Because I could be really honest with them how I felt and the remorse and everything that I had toward my choices throughout life that brought me to prison. But I just think that they would be just sitting there going, ‘Okay, your time’s up.’ So I just don’t know what I would say to them.”

He said he expected to spend the rest of his life in prison.

The denial, according to court records, was due to the severity of the offense and “negative input from stakeholders.”

But no one knows exactly who those stakeholders were. It wasn’t the family of the man who died. Barbara Eckes wrote the board in support of Layton’s release.

“I love and miss my son, and remain very proud of my son’s accomplishments while he was alive. It was my wish as stated to everyone involved even at the time of this horrific event that Mr. Layton would some day make his family proud and that he be given a chance to live and have a family,” she said in an affidavit.

“While I forgive Mr. Layton for his past mistakes, including being the cause of my son’s unfortunate and untimely death, I am sorry that I am having to relive this event in any way to correct a major error by the Alabama parole board in stating that a family member of the victim has protested.”

Lawyers in Birmingham heard about Layton’s case and appealed to a Jefferson County court, arguing the current parole board’s decision-making patterns made a shot at freedom “virtually obsolete.”

Knowing Eckes didn’t oppose the motion, Jefferson County District Attorney Danny Carr withdrew his opposition to Layton’s release, too.

And in March 2023, a judge ordered Layton to be freed, amending his sentence to time served.

In her 2021 affidavit, Eckes made clear that no one had to convince her to make her feelings public.

“I have decided to voice my opinion within this affidavit because I have an intense feeling that my son, Jason Ekes, wants me to do everything I can to assist Mr. Layton in being granted a chance at freedom and being granted parole.”

Eckes showed up to that 2023 hearing in a Jefferson County courtroom. Though wheelchair-bound, she was able to stand and hug the man who killed her son.

“The one thing that she said to me when (she stood up) and she hugged me and she said, ‘I forgive you and I want you out of prison,’” Layton said tearfully.

‘I just don’t wanna let her down’

Layton spends his days working at a Bessemer business and his evenings working side jobs. He also takes care of his mother. His famous father died while he was still behind bars.

He often goes to visit Eckes, too. They talk several times a month and he mows her grass.

“Sometimes I just go out to her place and just, we just talk,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never not prayed about their family and just, you know, that they would one day forgive me for the life I led and all that stuff.”

Layton said, “I just don’t wanna let her down, but I think that I’m on the right path.”

He spent years sitting on his thin prison mattress, thinking about how to start over if he ever got out of prison. He refers to this part of his life not as a new chapter, but a new book entirely.

McCurley, the slain Etowah County deputy’s son, believes in forgiveness, he said, but not in the commonly tossed around “closure.” There won’t ever be closure. But he doesn’t believe his dad would want punishment that lasts forever.

“They are forever gone.. There are things we can do to remember, honor their memories, but nothing we do is going to bring them back or make their loss ok.”

Trammer misses her son each day. But she believes in starting over, too.

“We make mistakes in life,” she said. “Everybody deserves a second chance. You don’t know who changed and who hasn’t changed if you don’t give them a second chance.”

This project was completed with the support of a grant from Columbia University’s Ira A. Lipman Center for Journalism and Civil and Human Rights in conjunction with Arnold Ventures.