Erick Smith is serving 35 years in federal prison for a nonviolent cocaine drug conspiracy, in which no cocaine was ever seized and no drug transactions were ever observed by agents.

No one was hurt or threatened. No violence was ever alleged. No cocaine was ever found on him, in his home or in his cars. No undercover officer or confidential informant ever bought drugs from him. Agents tracked him for months with GPS trackers on three vehicles, tailed him, placed cameras facing his home, and went through the trash he put out. Yet they never saw him with cocaine or making a drug transaction, and the trash turned up no cocaine or drug paraphernalia.

And much of his sentence rests on things a jury found him not guilty of.

A choice with his life on the line. In 2011, Erick was 29 and facing a decision no one should have to make. Prosecutors had pointed to two earlier simple drug possession convictions, one from 1999, when he was just 17, and another from 2003, about eight years before this case. Under the law at the time, those two convictions would make a life sentence mandatory if he was convicted as charged. He could plead guilty and give up his right to a trial, or he could put his case in front of a jury of his peers and let them decide. He chose the jury. He trusted that whatever they found would be the final word.

What the jury said. After four days of trial, the jury convicted Erick of a drug conspiracy, but for a far smaller amount than prosecutors charged: less than 5 kilograms of cocaine. It also found him not guilty of using a firearm in connection with a drug crime.

Noteworthy, no cocaine was ever found. The government’s case leaned heavily on one afternoon. Agents watched a man leave Erick’s car and get into another one, then pulled that man over and found about $13,000 in cash hidden in his car. Prosecutors said that was the price of half a kilogram of cocaine and argued Erick had just made a drug deal. Yet agents never stopped Erick that day to see whether he had drugs in his car. They only continued to follow him.

What the sentence said. Then came sentencing. The judge made two decisions that changed everything. First, the judge counted 56 kilograms of cocaine against Erick, more than eleven times what the jury found. Second, the judge raised his sentencing range because of a gun, even though the jury had found him not guilty of the gun charge tied to the drug case.

Without these two decisions, his sentencing range would have been about 14 to 17.5 years. With them, it became 30 years to life. He was sentenced to 35 years.

This was legal at the time. Judges were allowed to count conduct a jury had found someone not guilty of when setting a sentence. It’s called acquitted-conduct sentencing. 

The law changed. Erick is still waiting. In 2024, the U.S. Sentencing Commission voted unanimously to ban judges from counting conduct a jury found someone not guilty of. Its chair, Judge Carlton W. Reeves, said it plainly: “Not guilty means not guilty.”

But the change in the law doesn’t reach people who were already sentenced, and the courts have said it can’t be used to reduce Erick’s sentence. Today, clemency is the only path left.

A sentence out of proportion. Among comparable federal cocaine trafficking defendants sentenced between 2015 and 2025, fewer than 2% received more than 30 years in prison. Across all cocaine trafficking cases in 2025, the average sentence was under 6 years.

A co-defendant who testified against Erick, and who was convicted of the larger drug offense and a firearm charge in connection with the drug conspiracy, had his sentence reduced to 15 years and has been released. Meanwhile, Erick is serving 35 years. 

In federal court in 2025, the average sentence for murder was about 27.5 years. For sexual abuse offenses, it was about 19 years. For child pornography offenses, it was under 10 years. 

A 35-year sentence, in a case with no violence and no cocaine seized from him, is longer than the average for all three.

Who Erick is today. By his own account, Erick was young and immature at the time, and he hadn’t done the hard work of looking at himself. In prison, he did.

“I take full responsibility for my actions. If I was living a life as a law-abiding citizen, I wouldn't be in this situation. I've asked forgiveness from God and my loved ones many times over, and now I'm asking the rest of society as well. I've learned my lesson, and I no longer recognize the person I used to be.”

He’s now 44. He has completed hundreds of hours of courses, including parenting, mediation, real estate, commercial drivers license (CDL), and business. Those skills, he says, “will help me stay on the path that I've planned out for my life as a family man, living day to day the righteous way.” In December 2024, he was named the number one unit orderly in his housing unit, a role that takes responsibility and trust. Federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP) staff have praised his work ethic and positive attitude. The BOP rates him at low risk of violence. In six different prisons over more than 15 years, including 11 years in federal penitentiaries, he has never picked up a weapon or had a physical altercation.

In his words: “The time I served has taught me so much! I know what’s important now.”

A father of five, and a grandfather. Erick has five children and a granddaughter, and being apart from them is the hardest part of his sentence. “I feel as if I failed as a father, by not being there for [my children].”

His oldest son is serving a sentence of his own and is due home in 2028. When Erick first went into custody, his son wrote him a letter saying he had been out there trying to be like him. Erick says that letter broke his heart. It made him face the example he had set.

His oldest daughter is so much like him that people call her his twin. She’s the reason he’s a grandfather, and he calls her his “buddy.” One of his sons is a good kid who loves gaming and works hard. Another is mature beyond his years, works hard, and makes beats as an up-and-coming music artist. Erick says he makes him feel like a “righteous father.” His youngest, a gifted teenager who plays 13 instruments and sings in her chorus, is someone Erick believes is “going to make a change for mankind.”

“Me and all five of my kids are in constant contact now, and they are my motivation for how I conduct myself these days.”

What’s waiting for him at home. A job is waiting for Erick through his brother's construction and trucking businesses, and he'll live with his sister. For eight years after release, he'll be supervised by U.S. Probation.

He has also written a variety of books, which he hopes to publish. Some will show what the system looks like from the inside, and others will help young people steer clear of his missteps, including the years lost with the people you love. He dreams of starting a nonprofit that gives kids in his community a positive role model.

Help bring him home. Erick accepts responsibility for the mistakes he made, and he is asking for forgiveness. He is not asking to escape accountability. He is asking for a sentence based on what the government proved beyond a reasonable doubt to a jury of his peers.

Erick has spent more than 15 years in prison and isn’t scheduled to come home until late 2041. Sign to ask the President to commute Erick Smith’s sentence and bring him home.

This campaign was built by Erick’s attorney, Destiny M. Hibbler-Wiley of The Wiley Law Group, and a team of students who read his case file and decided they couldn’t look away: Destiny Banks, Evenn Head, Janie Loya, Jasmin Gomez, Jennifer Avila, Kengee Ford, Larissa Martinez, Linda Arellano, Natalie Renovato, Natalye Cantero, and Olivia Medina. It was made possible by Professor Genea Shoulders, who opened her classroom to this work.