Being released is traumatic enough when you're guilty But what about when you've been innocent all along?

There have been days during my gradual reintroduction to society I have found myself overwhelmed. The train journey which left me drenched in sweat after 40 minutes of such intense selfconsciousness that at one stage I thought I was going to have an out of body experience; or the time I hovered for half an hour outside a barber shop desperate for my first civilised haircut in nearly 18 years, but ultimately too nervous to enter for fear of being unable to manage friendly chit-chat convincingly; or the encounter with the pretty checkout girl who smiled and wished me a good day when I paid for a bag of crisps, making me want to cry as I walked away. I don't like to admit it, but it has been at the end of days like these when I've been thankful to return to the familiar territory of my prison room.
It's comforting to know also that on "days in". if the need arises. I can always speak to my case officer, who will offer reassurance and guidance about difficulties I might be encountering as I adjust to the outside world. If problems persist, there is even a dedicated counsellor. And if I want to open a bank account, or contact housing officials, or have need for social services. the -throughcare" department will assist. There's no doubt that when it comes to releasing a long-term prisoner the prison authorities have an adequate system in place. I can't say I'm not glad of it, but it's just as well I'm not a victim of a miscarriage of justice.
For prior to this week, apart from the provision of financial compensation, which incidentally can often take years to come through, there was no such consideration for those wrongly convicted by the courts and then released, sometimes 10,15, or even 20 or more years later. (Most prisoners "in denial" are refused places on "pre-release " courses and are not even considered for acclimatisation activities such as escorted shopping trips or supervised work in the community.)
But on Monday a new scheme was launched which aims to provide support and advice for people who are to be released after suffering wrongful imprisonment.
The Home Office-funded scheme involves staff from Citizens Advice Bureau" making arrangements to ensure that the people affected have access to counsellors and are given whatever advice is needed, including how to go about claiming compensation. It seems incredible, given the steady stream of damaged people who have been emerging from British prisons during the past 20 years or so, that such a scheme has not been organised before now.
Not that it was something I had spent much time thinking about before my own release plan began. But once I'd learned to anticipate and deal with my little panics, I got to wondering how the wrongfully convicted manage to cope when they are released so suddenly and with no such safety net.
Like the man on the television news one night, for example, who kissed the ground outside the court of appeal following the quashing of his conviction after 16 years. He had been a boy of sixteen when his ordeal began. I knew him in the adult system, lived on the same landings with him, saw his pleading and protests first hand - and along with everybody else who came into contact with witnessed his mental deterioration as the years passed. He must have thought his problems were over when he was kissing the ground - but I'd guess that once he was back on his feet and the adrenalin had stopped pumping, it was little more than the beginning of a new ordeal.
Or the 21 year old I worked alongside in a prison workshop years earlier. He was innocent, "really innocent", he'd tell me and others, over and over again. "The truth will come out soon," he told us. mum won't let them keep me in when she knows I shouldn't be here." We used to smile behind his back at that one.
Fifteen years later I opened a newspaper one morning and there he was, prematurely aged and greyhaired, standing outside the court of appeal next to a proud-looking, elegantly dressed woman, identified as his mother. He had been cleared. Thank goodness for mothers, I remember thinking.
I've known many like my two former acquaintances and no doubt there will be many more to come. But at least now there will be help waiting when the gates finally open - and not before time. A society that caters so commendably for the guilty should not have to think twice about supporting the innocent. Erwin James