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When he was a 16-year-old kid in ºüÀêÊÓƵ, Bostic did a stupid thing. He and an 18-year-old robbed at gunpoint some Good Samaritans who were delivering Christmas presents to needy families. They shot their guns, injuring one person.

Bostic’s buddy took a plea bargain and got 30 years in prison. Bostic took his chances with a trial and lost. Circuit Judge Evelyn Baker hammered him, sending him away for 241 years. It was a death sentence.

There are people — then and now — who will read that last sentence and shrug. He committed a crime. He suffered the consequences. What’s one more Black teenager headed off to prison? Baker is not one of those people.

This is the hopeful part. Over the years, she came to realize that sending a juvenile away to prison for a youthful error, especially one where nobody died, isn’t just. She began advocating for Bostic to get a second chance, an opportunity for parole. In November, she was Bostic’s sole advocate at his parole hearing. The hearing was made possible by a change in law enacted by the Missouri Legislature earlier this year. Last week, Bostic won his parole. He’s scheduled to be released late next year.

Bostic and Baker are friends now.

“She looks at it very differently now,� Bostic said in a phone interview last week. “People are worthy of second chances when they make mistakes.�

Bostic has been in prison for more than 25 years now, and he’s already made the most of his second chance, even before it was provided. He studies and reads. He writes poetry and books about his life. He started a book club, and two years ago, a letter he wrote to ºüÀêÊÓƵ County Library Director Kristen Sorth sparked her to increase opportunities for people involved with the criminal justice system locally to have access to books and other resources.

“Writing to me from the place he has lived since he was 16 years old, Bobby gave the ºüÀêÊÓƵ County Library’s work with the justice involved a renewed and determined purpose,â€� Sorth said.

Next month, she said, library staff will meet with the director of the ºüÀêÊÓƵ County Justice Center to discuss how to provide virtual library resources — including eBooks, virtual classes, literacy assistance and an online high school diploma program — to Justice Center residents through a new tablet program.

The library’s reference department, Sorth said, has answered almost 2,500 inquiries from Missouri inmates this year, and has seen a 172% increase in reference-by-mail services to Missouri prisons since 2020.

For Bostic, books became the vehicle that helped him hold on to hope for a better future.

“I just read books all day and studied,� he says. “I never gave up hope. All I had was hope.�

Despite Bostic’s impending parole, there’s still a maddening part. Why did it take so long?

Even after the Supreme Court ruling on parole in 2010, attorneys general for the state of Missouri — both Democrats and Republicans — fought Bostic’s attempts to reduce his sentence and get an opportunity to prove he isn’t the same person he was at 16. Who can defend a 241-year sentence for a crime in which nobody dies, committed by a kid, especially when the judge who issued that sentence has had a change of heart?

Such it is for seeking justice sometimes in Missouri. Even when the Legislature makes progress in redefining the concept of justice — and it has been doing so in recent years — the courts are loathe to admit past mistakes. So Bostic, and the 100 or so others in Missouri prisons who faced similar harsh sentences as juveniles, had to wait and wait, while the and a horde of Bostic supporters pressed his case.

Even on parole, he’ll face the potential of going back to prison, unless, of course, Gov. Mike Parson commutes his sentence, which he could do today.

“I’m blessed to have this parole, but I’m hoping my sentence does get commuted,� Bostic says. “My sentence was unjust.�

Among those who want to meet him when he is released is his library pen pal, Sorth. She wants to thank him for all he has done to make sure public resources are being used to help people behind bars find hope and education through books.

All of the library’s efforts, she said, “started with a letter from Bobby.�

Sorth added, “I cannot wait to meet the most important pen pal I’ve ever had.�