VANDALIA, Mo. 鈥 Before she headed to prison earlier this year, Tonya Honkomp started preparing for her future.
She spent a fair amount of time trying to fix up a house given to her by a family member. It was an old house in Park Hills, and it needed a lot of work 鈥 plumbing, electrical, roofing. She made some progress but not enough.
Her meth possession charge from a traffic stop in 2022 would have her locked up for a while, so Honkomp decided to sell the house.
The money from the sale would help down the road, after she got out of prison and raised a baby girl. She was pregnant before entering prison and is due to deliver the baby in October.
鈥淚 literally have no other money,鈥 she told me in a phone interview last week from the Women鈥檚 Eastern Reception, Diagnostic and Correctional Center in Vandalia. 鈥淓verything I had went into that house. This was all I had, and it was supposed to be my safety net for when I got out. It鈥檚 me and this baby. I don鈥檛 have anything else out there.鈥
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Honkomp, who turned 36 on Friday, talks about the money in the past tense because she no longer has access to it. After the house sold, the title company sent her $19,000 check to prison. Then in April, Attorney General Andrew Bailey鈥檚 office filed a legal action to seize the money and use it to pay for some of the cost of Honkomp鈥檚 prison stay.
Bailey is using a law that previous attorneys general have used: the Missouri Incarceration Reimbursement Act. It was passed in the late 1980s, along with similar laws in most states, as the drug war and 鈥渢ough on crime鈥 trend swept Congress and state legislatures. The 鈥減ay-to-stay鈥 law was intended to save taxpayers money by having lawbreakers pay for their time in prison.
In reality, the MIRA law generates a pittance of the state Department of Corrections budget 鈥 far less than 1% in most years. The bulk of the money comes from poor defendants who don鈥檛 have the resources to fight the state.
Clayton attorney Bevis Schock is trying to do something about that. He represents Daniel Wayne Wallace, an inmate sued this year by Bailey over $12,000 in insurance proceeds Wallace received after his mother died. Wallace planned to use the money after his prison stay for a place to live, to help land a job and to take care of his family.
In legal filings in which he seeks to get a judge or the Missouri Supreme Court to declare the MIRA law unconstitutional, Schock argues that the state has no right to Wallace鈥檚 鈥済rubstake,鈥 calling Bailey鈥檚 move an illegal seizure of property.
Whatever it is, the process has Honkomp frustrated and befuddled.
鈥淚t makes me very angry,鈥 she told me. 鈥淣obody will tell me anything.鈥
Last month, she wrote the court and asked for help getting an attorney, or at least somebody to explain what鈥檚 happening. In court, an assistant attorney general argued that, unlike a criminal case, Honkomp doesn鈥檛 have the right to a 鈥渇ree鈥 attorney. Cole County Associate Circuit Court Judge Christopher Limbaugh dismissed Honkomp鈥檚 letter, saying it wasn鈥檛 clear what she was asking for.
Honkomp was very clear when I spoke to her. She wants an attorney. She wants somebody to help make sure she has money when she gets out of prison so she can take care of her baby. She鈥檚 asked a case worker to explain the paperwork; she told me the case worker reads from a prepared document that basically explains she can鈥檛 provide legal advice.
鈥淭hey won鈥檛 even let me defend myself technically because they won鈥檛 take me to court,鈥 she says.
Indeed, in most MIRA cases, an attorney for Bailey鈥檚 office appears before the judge. No prison inmate appears, and the judge writes in the file, 鈥淩espondent appears not due to incarceration.鈥
That鈥檚 what happened to Honkomp on her most recent court appearance. Eventually, if she doesn鈥檛 show up or an attorney doesn鈥檛 show up on her behalf, the state will seize the money it鈥檚 already frozen.
Honkomp鈥檚 baby girl is due in October. Her first visit before the parole board is in November. She hopes to get released on parole next spring.
Honkomp isn鈥檛 certain what鈥檒l happen when her baby is born. In 2022, the Missouri Legislature passed a law to create a nursery in prison for pregnant inmates, but it鈥檚 not scheduled to be up and running until 2025. Honkomp hopes to be free by then. Once out of prison, she plans to live with her baby鈥檚 grandmother, at least temporarily, depending on whether she has money to restart her life. Missouri鈥檚 attorney general stands in her way.
鈥淚鈥檓 not sure what I鈥檓 going to do,鈥 she says. 鈥淚 was planning on having that money to help me and my baby.鈥
50度灰视频 metro columnist Tony Messenger discusses what he likes to write about.