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In rural Missouri, going to jail isn't free. You pay for it.

  • 13 min to read
In rural Missouri, going to jail isn't free. You pay for it.

On a typical Thursday in November, in a rural circuit court slightly northeast of Kansas City in Kingston, people trickle in and out of a largely empty courtroom.

They come for a variety of reasons: speeding tickets, driving without a license, car accidents and occasionally more serious crimes. But at the end of almost every case, the judge asks the same questions.

Richey watches people cross Main Street as he waits for the post office to open

Richey watches people cross Main Street as he waits for the post office to open so he can mail letters to a friend. While living in Appleton City, he has been unable to receive bills that have been sent to his son’s house in Warrensburg. Later in the day, Richey received two calls regarding missed payments on bills he had not yet seen.

Two years ago on Father's Day, Richey's son knocked on his front door

Two years ago on Father's Day, Richey's son knocked on his front door. Despite not having seen his son in over 20 years, Richey immediately recognized him. Since reconnecting, he has met his granddaughters for the first time and moved to Warrensburg to be closer to his family. "I'm a grandpa in training," said Richey.

Richey opens the suitcase he has been living out of

Richey opens the suitcase he has been living out of to sift through his belongings. He has been forced to stay in Appleton City because he does not have access to reliable transportation that would allow him to travel from Warrensburg to Appleton City each month for his board bill hearings.

Each day, Richey wanders the streets of Appleton City. Without a job to attend, he spends his days helping neighbors and friends with chores. When Carol Paxton met Richey and his roommate Rodney, she was apprehensive at first. Now, she visits with the duo often. When her car battery died, she immediately called Richey to ask for his assistance. "I don't know how I became friends with these guys. I used to hate Rodney," said Paxton. "Now, I don't know what I would do without them."

Richey asks a bank teller if he can withdraw $25

Richey asks a bank teller if he can withdraw $25 a day before receiving his disability check, despite having less than $2 in his account at the time of the request. Each month he receives just over $600 in disability benefits. After paying his monthly bills, he struggles to make payments on his looming boarding bill.

Richey reaches to shake his dog Chewy's paw

Richey reaches to shake his dog Chewy's paw while getting some fresh air with Carol Paxton. The two later took a trip to Appleton City Lake to watch the birds. Nature acts as Richey's sole source of solace while he remains stuck in transition.

Richey peers down the street while on a walk in Appleton City

Richey peers down the street while on a walk in Appleton City. Without anywhere to be, Richey usually goes on a walk multiple times a day. Often, he takes Rodney’s dog, Chewy, along for the trip. “That’s the toughest part about being down here — there’s nothing to do,” Richey said. “As soon as I get done with court, I’m getting the hell out of here.”

Charging board bills to people stuck in county jails is a common practice. The map illustrates how much money county jails have collected through courts due to board bills.
From 2000 to 2015, the jail population of Missouri has increased 50%, adding to the increasing costs of holding inmates in jail.
Richey drinks a beer as he waits for his roommate Rodney to return home

Richey drinks a beer as he waits for his roommate Rodney to return home from work. With over $4,000 remaining on his board bill, Richey doesn't believe he will be able to move back to Warrensburg any time soon. Richey was previously told his bill would only be dismissed if he agreed to serve a second 90-day jail stay. “It’s like trying to shovel in a blizzard,” says Richey.

  • Titus was a state government reporter, copy editor and assistant city editor at the Missourian.