In 1999, a man named Michael Anderson walked into a Burger King in St. Charles, Missouri, and robbed the manager of roughly two thousand dollars as the day’s cash was being taken to the bank. He was quickly arrested and, after a jury trial, convicted of armed robbery. The judge sentenced him to thirteen years in prison.
But when the time came to serve his sentence, no one came to take him away. Anderson waited at home, nervous and expectant, thinking the police would arrive at any moment. Weeks passed. Then months. Then years. Because of a clerical error, state records mistakenly showed that Anderson was already in custody. The Department of Corrections never issued the order to revoke his bond, and the system effectively lost track of him.
Anderson did not go into hiding. He did not leave the state. Instead, believing the matter had somehow been resolved or that his record had been cleared, he began to build a normal life. He married, started a construction company, became a father, and devoted his spare time to mentoring at-risk youth so they would not repeat his mistakes. Friends and neighbors knew him as a hardworking, law-abiding man.
For thirteen years, Anderson lived quietly under the assumption that his case had been closed. Then, in 2013, the error came to light. While preparing to release him from prison, officials discovered that he had never actually been there. Shocked, the Missouri Department of Corrections immediately sent police to arrest him and enforce the original sentence.
The arrest stunned Anderson and his family. He was taken into custody and told he must now serve the entire thirteen-year term. In court, he broke down under the weight of what had happened, explaining how he had changed his life and stayed out of trouble since the day of the robbery.
His story quickly drew public attention. Commentators argued that sending him to prison after all this time would serve no purpose, especially when the state’s own mistake had allowed him to live free and reformed. Others countered that the justice system must uphold sentences regardless of delays.
In the end, the judge sided with mercy. Recognizing that Anderson had genuinely rehabilitated himself and that the fault lay with the system, the court ruled that he would not be required to serve the prison term. Instead of being locked away, he was allowed to return to his family and continue the life he had built.
The case remains a striking example of how human error within the justice system can dramatically change a person’s fate. It also highlights the power of personal transformation: a man once convicted of armed robbery had, by the time of his arrest, become a model citizen — and, ultimately, a symbol of second chances.
About the Author
