In Leaving Death Row Is Blessing and Curse, New York Times Reporter Jodi Willgren explains that "for some of the fomerly condemned prisoners in Illinois, a sentence of life in prison is an unappealing alternative to life on death row." They're leaving their family of firends, their guards who made sure they took their medicine and exercised, their own cells.

It is not that Danny Edwards wants to die, per se, it is just that he does not want to leave death row.

The guards here know about his heart condition and make sure Mr. Edwards exercises daily, regardless of weather. His 8-by-13-foot cell with the metal bed frame is not much, but at least it is his alone. The condemned share a bond, "like one big family," Mr. Edwards said — a family about to be broken up. And without a looming execution, he could lose his free appellate lawyer, who he still hopes will win him a new trial.

"I'm not thrilled about spending the rest of my life in prison — who would be?" Mr. Edwards, 46, said this morning in an interview at Pontiac Correctional Center, where officials have begun dismantling death row.

Mr. Edwards is one of about 20 condemned inmates who did not file petitions for clemency but nonetheless were included when Gov. George Ryan issued a blanket commutation of the state's death sentences. Mr. Edwards had even written to Mr. Ryan, urging him not to spare his life.

In other words, not all of the prisoners on death row want the life sentences handed them by Governor Ryan's clemency decision last week.

Reaction on the row here at Pontiac, 100 miles southwest of Chicago, was some clapping and a "Thank God" or two, Mr. Edwards said. In the days since, the formerly condemned have fretted over being split up and sent to Menard Correctional Center in the far south of the state, adjusting to bunk beds and to sharing a cell.

"I'm not looking forward to group showers," Mr. Edwards said. "The down side is I'm going to have a cellie. The good part is I'm going to have a little job."

Already, Mr. Edwards and the others are being treated differently, allowed to meet visitors without their hands cuffed to their waists. Mr. Edwards celebrated the new freedom throughout an hourlong conversation, waving his arms, slapping the table, pointing fingers.

"I can't wait until my mom comes and I can give her a big hug," he said. "I haven't hugged my mom in 15 years."

The Washington Post has a similar article, Off Illinois Death Row, To A Rougher Place, that explains:

The convicted murderers whose sentences were commuted last weekend are no longer facing death, but for many of them, day-to-day life will be much rougher, and possibly more violent, according to people familiar with conditions in the state's prisons.

Isolated from each other and from the general prison population, Illinois's death row inmates have led a life at once more restricted, but also more physically secure, settled and sedate than that of thousands of other maximum-security prisoners.

On death row they have been confined behind bars 23 hours a day, deprived of work and educational programs and shackled hand and foot when ushered to meet visitors.

But they also have their own cells, meals delivered by guards, and reasonably good access to art supplies, reading material and telephones. Many are ministered to regularly by an array of churches, religious groups and organizations opposed to the death penalty. And virtually all enjoy the comfort of knowing that prison enemies cannot easily knife, beat, rape or intimidate them. Much of that will now be lost as they face life terms without in overcrowded, hellishly hot prisons.

"There is a kind of security in death row which is uncommon," Nordgaard said. "I mean, they'll have their lives, but those new lives are in a maximum-security prison, which I wouldn't want to be in for 24 hours, to tell you the truth."

....In recent days, Fairchild said, prison authorities have doubled the number of psychiatrists and psychologists on duty in death row; they are on the alert for mood swings and to prevent suicides.

Fairchild said he expected some death row inmates, fearing for their lives once they are integrated into the general prison population, to seek protective custody. He also said all of them would undergo an orientation to prepare for life in the general prison population, much as brand-new prisoners do.

So its mixed emotions for some of the inmates. Still, we think Governor Ryan did the right thing by commuting all the sentences, including those of the inmates who would rather die now.

Either way, these inmates are coming out of prison in a box. Their's is still a death sentence, it's just a question of when.