CLEAN SLATE CLUB
Wiping away felons’ records might mean big bucks for states.
MARCELLA WHITE was 15 when her father, a police officer, was shot dead while responding to a break-in. After his death, she moved from Utah to California, where she tangled with the law. None of her offenses were violent, and in total she spent less than a month behind bars. But nearly four decades later, at the age of 69, White has paid an unexpected price for her mistakes. Last year, her applications for senior housing in the San Francisco Bay Area were rejected because of her felony record. When she inspected her rap sheet, she was startled—she couldn’t even remember some of the offenses of her youth. “It was like I was sleepwalking,” she says of her old self. “I wept for the person I used to
