Washington prisons delayed nearly a third of all inmate release dates last year, costing taxpayers millions

In the summer of 2019, Antonio Castillo hitchhiked the last leg of his 280-mile return from the Washington Corrections Center in Shelton to his grandmother’s home in Okanogan County.

He didn’t leave prison with a plan. He had spent the past several months in the intensive management unit — which holds, among others, inmates who violate prison rules — after what he describes as a conflict with a corrections officer. With only an hour a day outside of his cell, Castillo, then 25 and serving the end of a year-long sentence for possessing drugs and a stolen firearm, did not have time to arrange a job, much less a ride home.

Even if he had time to plan for his release, Castillo had another problem. “I didn’t know when I was getting out,” he told InvestigateWest. “I was totally in the dark.”

Unbeknownst to Castillo, his earned release date — the day he was scheduled to leave prison — had passed a month before he stepped out of the Washington Corrections Center.

Had he known when he would be released, Castillo argues he could have laid at least basic groundwork for his return home. But without a firm date around which to plan, he says he never had a chance.

That uncertainty is all too common. An InvestigateWest data analysis found that nearly a third of the approximately 5,000 people released from Washington prisons in fiscal year 2023 were held beyond their earned release date, which takes into account good behavior and credit for time served in county jails before their conviction. The median delay was roughly a month, but some delays stretched well over a year — making it difficult for inmates trying to plan their new lives and costing taxpayers millions.

The share of inmates released late increased even as Washington’s prison population shrank during the COVID-19 pandemic — and after the Department of Corrections released many inmates resentenced in the wake of the Washington Supreme Court’s landmark Blake decision in 2021. That decision effectively decriminalized drug possession until the Legislature passed a new statute.

Some delays were unavoidable. An inmate convicted of arson, for instance, will almost always struggle to find housing after their release, which DOC must approve in some cases. But inmates and reentry support providers point to numerous examples of avoidable delays: an inmate held late because a counselor did not issue a legally required notice to victims until the last minute, or an inmate waiting past their release date for sentencing documents to arrive in the mail from a county court.

While Washington Gov. Jay Inslee previously chastised the DOC for erroneously releasing some inmates too early, the scale of delayed releases has not received the same attention. The underlying problems are not unique to Washington. Recently, the Nebraska Department of Correctional Services faced scrutiny for holding inmates in custody longer than state lawmakers intended.

Earned release dates are partly an incentive for inmates to follow prison rules and participate in education and work programs. In all, they can knock months or years off a sentence; the alternative is a maximum expiration date, which marks the end of their full prison sentence.

Most inmates will be released on their earned release date, and the dates provide an essential foundation for planning their returns to the outside world.

Inmates held beyond their earned release date often watch their carefully laid plans for employment, housing and support networks collapse, dimming their prospects of a successful return to society.

“If they had a job lined up, if they had housing lined up — anything, that can all fall apart when they miss their [earned release date],” said Leandru Willie, a case manager with Native American Reentry Services in Tacoma. “There’s no guarantee someone will hold your room or your job open while you wait for weeks or a month.”

For inmates, there is no legal recourse for being held weeks or months past an earned release date; the dates are not guaranteed by statute.

For taxpayers, the delays are expensive — monthly costs can vary substantially between inmates, but the department estimated costs in the range of $5,300 per inmate per month as of 2022. That would mean the DOC spent about $7 million holding inmates past their release dates in the last fiscal year.

The DOC did not respond to specific criticisms about the causes of the delays, but the agency does not contest their scale and frequency. Administrators underscore that some key causes are out of their control. Finding suitable housing for people leaving prison is difficult under any circumstances, for instance, and far more so during a severe statewide housing shortage.

The department also noted that convicted sex offenders are often held past their release date until Washington’s Indeterminate Sentence Review Board — which oversees sex offenders’ sentences — deems them rehabilitated. Data provided by the DOC suggests that about 10 percent of those released late in fiscal 2023 were inmates convicted of sex offenses.

But reentry services providers and prison counselors agree that policymakers and administrators could make a dent in the delays by holding DOC staffers accountable for missed deadlines, eliminating bureaucratic communication barriers and better equipping counselors to manage their overwhelming caseloads.

“This is a chronic problem, and it has been for years,” said Jacob Schmitt, a consultant with the state’s Office of Public Defense who specializes in clemency and postconviction relief efforts. Schmitt himself was released from prison last year after a court reduced his sentence for a 2014 burglary.

“All of those expenses really should be measured against liberty,” Schmitt added. “Every single day counts.”

‘There are seldom repercussions’

Reentry support providers across Washington argue that many delays result from a slow-moving counselor or communications failures. In their view, the department could substantially reduce delays by holding staff to stricter deadlines and updating communications systems.

DOC counselors who spoke with InvestigateWest acknowledged there is a lack of accountability for colleagues who ignore deadlines or do not make time for inmates on their caseload, though they contend that overwhelming workloads, unclear job descriptions and high turnover leave dim prospects for meaningful change.

Both groups say the process for approving release addresses is a core driver of the delays.

The DOC requires inmates whose sentence includes a period of community supervision – similar to probation –  to secure an approved release address before they can leave prison. Some inmates plan to move in with family upon release; others apply for the department’s housing voucher program — $700 a month for up to six months — and plan to rent a bed from a transitional housing provider.

Before approving a release address, a community corrections officer must visit the site and determine whether it is safe and suitable for the inmate’s circumstances.

Inmates can only submit one address at a time for approval. If a community corrections officer determines that an initial address would be a bad fit, the inmate has to restart the process, setting them back weeks or months.

For inmates convicted of an array of violent crimes and sex crimes, there is one last hurdle after their release address is approved: a public notice of their release to be issued at least 30 days before they leave custody, which advocates say presents yet another opportunity for delays.

DOC policy sets timelines for every step of the process — community corrections officers have a month to review most residential addresses, for instance — but the department leaves enforcement of those deadlines to prison supervisors.

“Counselors are expected to monitor their caseloads and complete necessary reentry planning work,” DOC spokesman Chris Wright said.

Supervisors receive notices when a counselor falls behind, he added, and “supervisors who identify staff members who are not meeting performance expectations hold them accountable,” including through performance reviews.

But Willie, the case manager with Native American Reentry Services, contends that some counselors routinely miss deadlines or fail to communicate with inmates on their caseload. Willie, who was released from Washington’s prison system in 2015, said he has seen negligence on the part of counselors firsthand.

“My counselor went on vacation without telling me before I was supposed to be released,” he said. “The counselors are supposed to be working with [inmates] six months before they hit the gate. But if the counselor doesn’t make time for them or get the paperwork in on time, they won’t get out on schedule.”

Jeanette Young, a counselor at the Washington Corrections Center in Shelton, acknowledged that supervisors in some units may look the other way when counselors do not meet planning deadlines.

“We have a group of people who [regularly] don’t even show up to work,” she said. “And there are very seldom repercussions.”

When colleagues miss work without advance notice or fall behind, Young said more diligent counselors are left to pick up the slack.

She added that the DOC has recently hired “reentry navigators” to assist inmates taking part in its graduated reentry program, which allows inmates to complete their sentences in partial confinement.

“They are supposed to be part of the reentry planning process,” she said, “but they haven’t lifted anything off our plate.”

Because the navigators are not part of Young’s union, Teamsters 117, they are generally unable to work inside prisons, limiting their ability to pick up slack for overwhelmed counselors. Teamsters 117 has sought to negotiate with the DOC to potentially bring the navigators into their bargaining unit.

Young also emphasizes that increasing the state’s supply of transitional housing options will be key to addressing the delays. “We haven’t seriously increased the number of addresses open to people who receive [housing] vouchers” in recent years, she said.

But some reentry housing providers argue carelessness and disorganization among DOC counselors exacerbates the challenges of the state’s housing shortage.

Jim Chambers, a recruitment and retention manager with Weld Seattle, a nonprofit transitional housing provider, said DOC counselors are often unwilling to begin arranging release addresses early enough for partners to adequately plan. Chambers emphasized that he was speaking from personal experience, not on behalf of his employer.

“If we know there will be 10 women getting out in three months, [housing providers] could think about leasing a house for them — we would use some of our organization’s funds and use their vouchers to cover the rest,” he said. “If we can plan for the future, we have ways of making more beds available. But counselors are so often not willing to start until two months before a person’s earned release date, which doesn’t give us enough time to plan — this isn’t an easy housing market to find things on a short turnaround.”

George Block, the reentry manager for Oxford Houses — a type of sober living home — in parts of central and eastern Washington, said counselors at the Washington Corrections Center are particularly prone to delay.

“I don’t get a call from Shelton until maybe — if they’re lucky — three weeks out from a person’s release date,” Block said. “At that point, I’ve been in contact with people from other prisons who gave me six weeks’ notice. They want me to rush to get them a bed, but I can’t — most of our beds are full.”

Young points out that the communication barriers go both ways. Some housing providers frequently fail to answer phone calls and emails, she said, and some Oxford Houses hold interviews for prospective residents at times when counselors cannot be there as required.

A potential fix

The Washington Corrections Center in Shelton stands out as the source of both the most and longest delays. According to Washington public defenders, however, the facility could also present the best opportunity to reduce delays.

According to InvestigateWest’s review of DOC data, in fiscal 2023, the prison was the last stop for a quarter of all people released from DOC custody and accounted for nearly a third of all delayed releases.

The median delay for inmates held past their release date in any Washington DOC facility is just under a month; at Washington Corrections Center, it’s over a month and a half.

Those statistics do not come as a surprise to current inmates and reentry support providers.

“This facility has a culture of incompetence,” said Tomas Keen, a current inmate at the prison. Since entering DOC custody in 2010 for assault, vehicle theft and unlawful possession of a firearm, Keen has spent time in six of the state’s prisons and completed paralegal training courses available to inmates; he now provides legal advice to fellow inmates, including many who remain in prison after their earned release dates.

“We always hear talk about being overworked and understaffed,” he added. “It seems like there are the same number of counselors per unit here as there were at Stafford Creek [Corrections Center]. I didn’t see all these issues at Stafford Creek.”

Keen’s estimates of counselor-to-inmate ratios are mostly accurate. In fiscal 2022 and 2023, Washington Corrections Center had more inmates per counselor than the median Washington prison; as of fiscal 2024, the Shelton prison has roughly 20 percent fewer inmates per counselor than the median prison.

But counselors at the prison push back on the notion of a “culture of incompetence,” arguing that even the most diligent counselors aren’t set up to succeed. Young acknowledged the challenges at the Washington Corrections Center, though she pointed out that the prison’s layout also hinders efficiency. Young does not reliably have an office space, so she spends a portion of each day searching for somewhere to take calls — a process that can require repeatedly walking a quarter-mile between her unit and the administration building, even in driving rain. The addition of a dedicated office for counselors, she said, would open time in her schedule that should be spent working with inmates.

The disproportionate share of delays at Washington Corrections Center also reflects its unique role in the state’s prison system.

More than half of Washington’s prisons are on or near the Olympic Peninsula; Washington Corrections Center, situated across from a clearcut on an otherwise empty stretch of rural highway, is in a central location on the peninsula’s southwest corner.

The facility serves as the transfer point for male inmates moving between prisons, as well as for people transferring from a county jail to DOC custody. The prison places those inmates in its receiving center — a facility that periodically draws attention for overcrowding and scarce amenities.

“It’s supposed to have two-man cells,” said Castillo, who spent time in the receiving center before he was sent to the intensive management unit in 2019. “But we had a guy on the floor, too — his face was pretty much next to the toilet.”

About one in six people released after their earned release dates in fiscal 2023 came from the receiving center at Washington Corrections Center. About half of all inmates released from the receiving center during that time missed their earned release dates.

By the time of their transfer to prison, many receiving center inmates have spent months in jail awaiting trial — time that courts generally deduct from their sentences. For people convicted of lower-level felonies, that means arriving at Washington Corrections Center with little to no time to make reentry plans before their release date.

“Say you get sentenced to a year and a day [in prison],” Keen said. “You may have already served eight months in jail waiting for a judgment, and you’re going to get time served credits. By the time you show up in Shelton, you’re often already past your [earned release date].”

Young, who works in the receiving center, said that the prison’s system for flagging inmates who arrive on or shortly before their release date does not work as intended.

“I don’t get a notification that [an inmate] needs to be fast-tracked, even when he’s on my caseload,” she said. Instead, the notifications go to supervisors who may not relay the message — or to staff who no longer work in reentry planning. “They may have switched jobs months ago,” Young added.

While the receiving unit theoretically has a position dedicated to so-called “quick releases,” Young noted that the position has been empty for at least a year. Turnover among counselors, supervisors and administrators can extinguish efforts to address case backlogs and delays, she said.

In recent years, defense attorneys have attempted to spare clients from the quagmire in the receiving units by bypassing the transfer to DOC custody entirely and arranging for inmates to be released directly from jail.

Those efforts have hinged upon ad hoc agreements with prosecutors, courts and the DOC known as “paper commits.”

“In essence, it’s a court order delaying transport to the DOC,” said Sheri Oertel, a felony resource attorney with the Washington Defender Association. “In that time, you sort out your credits for time served and you get your release planning done so that you can be released directly from the jail.”

Paper commits are extremely rare, but in Young’s view, standardizing the practice may be the most realistic option for reducing release delays.

“We need to be able to work with people in the county jails,” she said. “Even if we can just get the process started [in jails], they won’t spend as much time waiting here in the receiving units.”

The DOC does not yet have an official position on standardizing that process. “Paper commits are an extremely complex and difficult-to-manage process,” Wright said.

Technology poses the most obvious obstacle to simplifying the paper commit process. The DOC does not share a filing system with county jails, and many records are still kept on paper; syncing state and county systems would be an expensive and time-consuming process.

State Sen. Claire Wilson, D-Auburn, said those updates are overdue. “We still rely far too much on manila envelopes,” she said. “We have to be willing to invest [in these upgrades].”

‘Ninety-seven percent’

Last year, Wilson introduced legislation that would have significantly expanded the support available to people exiting prison, including requiring the DOC to begin developing release plans a year before an individual’s release date. Wilson said she was unaware of the scale of delays when she introduced the bill, but she agrees that requiring planning to begin earlier might indirectly reduce the number of delays.

Gov. Inslee later vetoed that portion of the bill, citing the DOC’s limited capacity and the cost of additional release planning steps; Inslee approved a portion of the bill requiring the DOC to provide a 90-day supply of an inmate’s prescribed medications upon release.

Reentry support providers, however, argue that reducing delays could save the state money. “The millions of dollars spent every year holding people past their earned release date is something almost anyone would care about,” said Schmitt, the contractor with the state’s Office of Public Defense. But Wilson underscores that the costs to those held in custody beyond their release dates should also matter to the public.

“Ninety-seven percent of people that are incarcerated will eventually reenter the community,” the state senator said, and offering them the opportunity to plan a stable landing is an important part of ensuring they don’t commit another crime.

Castillo, the Okanogan County man released late from the Washington Corrections Center in 2019, offers himself as an example of the alternative.

He still does not know exactly why he was held past his release date. Castillo’s relatively short sentence limited his opportunities to discuss release plans with counselors; his sentence did not include any period of community custody, so he did not need to submit an address for approval. As far as he could tell, his delay was purely the result of poor communication, either between counselors or between the DOC and Okanogan County.

“It felt like they just forgot about me,” he said.

Schmitt said the reasons for Castillo’s delayed release may not be mysterious. “It’s unsurprising that someone in the [intensive management unit] would not be treated as a priority,” he said. Unlike inmates in the general population units, those in the intensive management unit don’t have access to kiosks to check updates to their earned release date.

“It’s the counselor’s job to give him updates, and they can say they just forgot,” he added. “There’s absolutely more apathy toward people in the [intensive management unit].”

After leaving Washington Corrections Center in 2019, Castillo temporarily moved in with his grandmother — a fragile arrangement, he said, and one that did not provide him the support he needed to keep himself away from trouble.

“I’m a recovering addict,” he said. “And I didn’t have a way to plan to move into a sober living house, to plan treatment.”

Over the following months, he struggled to find work to help his grandmother pay rent and electrical bills. He soon relapsed, and he has since returned to the Okanogan County jail for car theft.

Later this year, Castillo will return to the Washington Corrections Center in advance of his release.

“When you can’t plan, you’re set up to fail,” he said. “And then you keep coming back.”

InvestigateWest (invw.org) is an independent news nonprofit dedicated to investigative journalism in the Pacific Northwest. Reach reporter Paul Kiefer at paulk@invw.org.