Navigating a world after SC prison: After 15 years, Henry Thomas still radiates joy

Henry Thomas hasn’t driven on his own in 25 years.

On a Thursday in May, he fidgets through paperwork for his driver’s test at the Saluda Dam Road Department of Motor Vehicles office in Berea. He adjusts his cap as he quietly goes over each line a few times over, making sure the information is correct.

It’s 8:30 am and the facility just opened but is already bustling with customers. Conditions are clear and sunny, ideal for such an endeavor.

“Now serving G0001,” an automated voice calls out.

Henry’s ticket is G0003. His test is soon.

“I’m a little nervous, but not too much,” he says.

By 9:14 a.m. he’s checking the seats in the gray Honda Odyssey he’s taking the test in. He starts the car.

“If you can turn your high beams on for me,” the instructor shouts from outside.

The instructor gets in and finally, Henry is off, on the road toward what could set the tone for the rest of his journey reentering society after 15 years in prison.

This is Henry’s third time at the DMV in roughly three months. Paying off driver’s licenses suspension fees and setting up his test hasn’t been easy, much like it isn’t for most people getting out of prison.

There are over 44,000 legal barriers, described as collateral consequences, that limit or prohibit those with criminal records from employment, housing, education and other opportunities nationwide. In South Carolina, there are 645 state legal provisions that act as collateral consequences, according to National Inventory of Collateral Consequences of Conviction.

Henry, 61, is one of between 70 million and 100 million people with a criminal record across the country facing these barriers.

But today he’s overcome one.

About half an hour after he drove away, Henry pulls back into the DMV. He speaks briefly with the instructor before letting out a deep, hearty cheer.

He throws up his fists, and tears gently roll down his cheeks. He passed. He’s proudly cleared one hurdle, despite others to come.

A hard past in Walterboro, a 15-year prison sentence

Months earlier on March 1, Henry was released from the South Carolina Department of Corrections after a 15-year sentence for cocaine distribution. It was his third offense, which triggered an enhanced sentence.

“Selling drugs was easy money,” he said. “The town where I was born and raised, there’s not many advantages for a Black kid with a conviction on his record, getting a job and all that. So, you do the next best thing, you take care of yourself. That was really the cause of me being incarcerated.”

Henry was born in Walterboro, South Carolina, the Lowcountry town notoriously known for the crimes and scandals of disgraced attorney, Alex Murdaugh, and his family. However, Henry and his family, also with deep roots in the city, existed outside of the Murdaugh’s white collar prestige.

On June 2, 1962, Henry was born by a midwife in his grandmother’s bed in the three-bedroom shotgun house she bought decades before. The home was shared by Henry and his grandmother, as well as his aunt, whom he refers to as his mom, and her daughters. The space was tight. They all shared the available rooms and other family members, like Henry’s birth mother and two brothers, came and went. But the house on Patterson Street was overflowing with love.

“We were poor, but we didn't care whether or not we were poor because we had the necessities, we had love,” Henry said. “My grandma, I remember when we were growing up, instead of having a Christmas stocking, she had us brown paper bags and we had oranges, apples, tangerines, candy and all that. So, we looked forward to that.”

Henry was raised by a caring family and a village of close neighbors on an old dirt road they called “The Lane.” But after graduating high school in 1980 and a brief stint in the Air Force, Walterboro became an environment in which he could no longer thrive.

“I had a few issues in the military that led me to being discharged, and so I kind of just gave up, I just started running the streets, started dibbling, dabbling with narcotics,” Henry said. “It was like I didn't have any foundation in Walterboro, so I gravitated to something different.”

From the early 90s to around 2000, Henry got caught up in a forgery charge for a bad check, his first possession and distribution charge and some misdemeanor offenses. But it wasn’t until 2008 when everything turned upside down.

Just a mile up the road from the house on Patterson Street was a self-service car wash where Henry once cleaned cars. Although he tried to be discreet, he also used the opportunity to sell drugs. Eventually, he said, it seemed the owner of the car wash caught on.

Henry made multiple sales to an undercover officer while working at the car wash. On October 15, 2008, he was arrested and charged with two counts of cocaine distribution and two counts for distributing drugs near a school. He was booked at the Colleton County jail where he remained until his court date on March 9, 2009.

His cousin, or sister as he refers to her, Margie Pizarro, just finished law school around that time and tried her best to help mitigate Henry’s sentence. Despite their efforts, Henry was sentenced to 17 years with 15 to serve.

He spent the next 10 years in SCDOC facilities, and the final five in Clarendon County Detention Center. His aunt and Margie's mother, Mary Ann Thomas, affectionally called “Ting,” was his main visitor over the years. Ting made sure Henry had everything he needed to live comfortably while incarcerated, sending money as often as she could for clothes and the commissary.

“It was like clockwork for 13 years,” Henry said, up until Ting died in September 2021.

As Henry’s release date neared, Margie recommended that Henry look into a nonprofit reentry program in Greenville, where she used to live.  The program, Soteria Community Development Corporation, offered housing, transportation and other resources while formerly incarcerated individuals get back on their feet.

Henry put in an application, and did a few interviews with Bob Norwood, Soteria’s director of the men’s program. On his release date, Margie picked Henry up at the jail in Clarendon County. She asked if he wanted her to bring some clothes for the occasion.

But Henry still had a suit from Ting’s wake, so on March 1, he stepped foot in Soteria for the first time in a suit and tie.

Overcoming obstacles of reentry, maintaining optimism

After 15 years incarcerated, life outside is much different than Henry remembered.

“I'm 60 years old now, so, a lot of stuff has done passed me by,” Henry said in March. “I come here, these guys have got these telephones, I said ‘what's going on with that telephone?’ I'm computer illiterate and don't know anything about the technology. I’m just gradually kind of grasping everything, day by day, taking the time and getting reinstituted back into society.”

Henry is not bitter about the time that’s passed and is positive about the future ahead with guidance from Soteria staff.

“I'm just really trying to give it my all,” he said. “What can I lose?”

But navigating the legal barriers of reentry still comes with obstacles, as it does for thousands of others in South Carolina.

The first goal on Henry’s list was to regain his driver’s license, a document he hasn’t had in over 20 years. He went to the DMV for the first time shortly after his release, but found he owed $800 in reinstatement fees from suspensions on his license.

Many of the fees incurred were from his drug conviction in 2008. However, three of the fees were from traffic tickets from 1993 and 1994. Henry had to get in touch with someone from Colleton County to pay fines that occurred 30 years ago before he could pay the rest.

To offset the remainder of the cost, Henry thought it was best to sign up for a payment plan provided by the SCDMV.

Individuals are eligible for a payment plan to reinstate their license if they owe at least $200 in fees, meet additional conditions and sign an agreement with the DMV. But currently to participate, people are required to pay a $35 admin fee and 15% deposit, or 15% of the total reinstatement fee, up front. The remaining balance must be paid within six months.

However, Henry was also only able to obtain one document while on the payment plan. He was only able to test for his permit. Despite this, he returned to the DMV to attempt his driver's test on April 13 and found the payment plan agreement prohibited him from doing so.

Frustrated, he returned to pay the remainder of his fees so he could move forward with taking the test. Still, Henry saw the glass half full, and looked at the delay as a chance to practice driving just a little bit longer.

“I'm just gonna take my time,” he said in April. “I've got a couple of weeks to practice and, you know, make sure I'll be correct.”

However, the delay in obtaining his license created another barrier toward employment.

In early April, Henry was initially interviewing with Foothills Trading Company, a woodworking and cabinet installment company in Travelers Rest. But they needed someone who would be able to bring equipment to and from the job site, he said.

“I can understand that,” Henry said.

Shortly after, Henry interviewed for a job for facility maintenance at Christ Church Episcopal in Greenville. He thought he was hired. He filled out the paperwork, a W-9 tax form and everything else that was necessary. He showed up at the church early Monday morning on May 1, ready to work.

But when the human resources department looked at his background and past convictions, they said he wasn’t a good fit.

“You got the fear factor, like we ran into with Henry,” Soteria founder, Jerry Blassingame, said about collateral consequences and barriers to employment. “Henry would have made them a stellar employee, but it was fear of the unknown, and they weren't trying to hear anything else."

"We have a great deal of respect and admiration for Soteria and Rev. Blassingame and the work they do, but we can’t discuss HR issues," Kevin Mertens, director of Faith in Action at Christ Church, said.

However, much like his persevering optimism when faced with hurdles to his get his license, Henry stayed motivated.

The Thursday after his job denial, Henry posted a photo holding up his permit to his Facebook account with the song “God Favored Me” by Hezeriah Walker playing in the background. While the song played, he said he won’t let the setback impact how he feels about his character.

“No sense in dwelling on it,” he said. “I’m gonna be alright.”

The Patterson Neighborhood Reunion and return to Walterboro

On July 1, Henry returned to his old home on Patterson Street for the first time in 15 years. The neighborhood was holding an annual reunion, and a blazing 91 degrees was not keeping generations of residents from flooding the streets in celebration.

The Patterson home had been abandoned for the past two years since Ting passed away, but Margie has since purchased the property and has plans for its future.

Henry walks through home, taking in its history. In the den, where the kids once sat and played board games, a photo of Henry from the Air Force still hangs on the wall. The wood of the walls is cracked in several places, but floors have recently been remodeled. In the kitchen, a China cabinet holds dishes and trinkets Henry still remembers from his childhood.

He points out the bedroom that once belonged to his grandmother, the one where he was born.

Margie and her husband, Milton Gaines, and her granddaughter, Julia, set up tables of food and drinks in an empty lot across the street. Henry’s brothers, Danny Thomas and Kenneth Hall, are both in attendance. His nephew, Lamont Kittrell, announces himself as the “grill master” and starts cooking.

In the meantime, Henry walks down “The Lane” and runs into faces still familiar after all this time. He’s greeted with deep embraces and smiles from family and old neighbors.

William Moore, 84, still owns the home a few lots down from his on Patterson. He remembers Henry from when he was a child.

“This is emotional, God is good, this is an example of God’s work,” Moore said when he saw Henry. “He never gave up with the challenges I knew he was facing. Mama Lena, his grandmother, would be proud.”

An old friend, Roy, asks Henry if he still plays the horn.

In seventh grade, Henry started playing the saxophone. His family couldn’t afford to buy an instrument, so he rented one from the band director at Walterboro High School, a campus that’s since closed.

Henry was a part of the high school’s Band of Blue starting in eighth grade. He was diligent about practicing and would take his saxophone to a nearby bar with a jukebox and try to mimic the jazz licks he heard. After high school, Henry said he played some while in the Air Force. He also dabbled with a saxophone from one the chapels in one of the facilities he was incarcerated in.

He’s not played the sax since.

Back at the Patterson house, Margie puts up a photo of her mother, Ting, as a memorial. She says she takes her everywhere.

After Ting passed, Margie assumed the responsibility of caring for Henry and making sure he had what he needed.

“I didn’t realize the place my mother had in his life,” she said. “I'm just doing what she would do.”

A red cardinal lands in a tree nearby, both Henry and Margie say it is a sign that Ting is with them at the reunion today.

The group eats and laughs as they enjoy each other’s company after more than a decade. Julia runs freely among the adults at the cookout and Henry puts on some music.

A neighborhood friend, Marissa Jones, looks at Henry and says, “Some of us are still here, you know.”

“I just do better when I’m not here,” he tells her.

As joyous as Henry is walking through the neighborhood and remembering the happiness his old home once brought, he knows it’s best for him to move on from the environment Walterboro brings.

“To me now, Walterboro, it’s just like a little black hole,” Henry said back in Greenville. "People, they say they’ll give you another chance, but they go back and make decisions up about your reputation. So, here I'm starting new. I'm starting fresh. Nobody knows me here, and I'm good.”

A look to the future

On June 13, after months of hurdles, Henry started a job with the building services crew at The Peace Center in downtown Greenville.

“We make sure the building is immaculate when people come in,” Henry said.

Henry enjoys the work and the team. He cleans around the center, but also sets up merch and seating for touring bands. He even gets to enjoy some of the music from performers and the Broadway shows.

“Music is a part of me,” he said. “I’ve been around music all my life.”

Like all Soteria program participants, Henry maintains a project plan of long-term and short-term goals. He’s considering eventually getting a commercial driving license or starting his own business. In the immediate future, he would like to use money earned from the nonprofit’s savings match program on a new car.

He recently became the house manager of the men’s transitional house.

“I'm ready to write a new chapter,” Henry said. “Say if God would give you back the time you lost, I'm just waiting for Him to give me these other 15 years. I'll be about 75 and can say I lived the rest of my life peaceful.”

Years of waiting have brought him to this moment. With any mountain, any challenge, any test, his angels watch over him.

Back in May at the Soteria office on Shaw Street, as Henry talks himself up for his driver's test, he notices two red cardinals fly by.

He blows them a kiss. The two birds were his grandmother and Ting, he said.

“They knew I needed to see them this morning,” he said.

Kathryn Casteel is an investigative reporter with The Greenville News and can be reached at KCasteel@gannett.com or on X @kathryncasteel.

This article originally appeared on Greenville News: Henry Thomas faces the trials of reentry after SC prison