In a column some years ago, I spotlighted Nutall's plight as a rehabilitated ex-con who couldn't get a job because she was -- get this -- a rehabilitated ex-con.

During the last of four separate prison terms -- she did 10 years in all -- Nutall kicked her heroin habit and got a college degree. In a prison system in which rehabilitation is often just a rumor, she actually did prepare herself to be better when she got out than when she went in.

Nutall (she was just Johnson then) did her time rather than allow time to do her, receiving a degree in behavioral sciences from Shaw University while still an inmate.

Despite her yearning to do better and her impressive academic accomplishments in the joint, no one would take a chance on her. There was despair in her voice when she called me lo those many years ago and fretted that she might be forced to return to the larcenous lifestyle she thought she had kicked along with her drug habit. She asked for help.

The dudephone rang about 7 a.m. the morning the column ran. It was the state Highway Patrol.

Before I could say, "Hey man, I swear she told me she was 21," a trooper said, "Hold for the governor."

Sure enough, it was then-Gov. Jim Hunt. He'd read and been moved by the story of Nutall's post-prison troubles. "You have that woman call me, and I'm gon' get her a job," he said.

She did, he did, and Nutall's life has been, if not an unbroken string of successes, at least a productive life.

Nutall is 50 now. She has gotten married, and since June she has been teaching fifth grade at ABC Christian Academy in Jacksonville, Fla. Principal Lois Diamond praises her as a "hardworking, innovative teacher" who enjoys her work.

Unfortunately for her and her students, she might not get to enjoy it much longer.

"The Florida Department of Education requires all employees to be fingerprinted," Diamond told me, "and those with background problems could get kicked back out."

Her school, Diamond said, could lose its state scholarship funding if a background check kicks back Nutall's fingerprints as an ex-felon. That would be disastrous for the school -- 72 of its 200 students receive scholarships -- and for Nutall.

Would she fire Nutall if such a large part of the school's funding was jeopardized?

"That's a call we'd have to make at that time," she said.

A call Nutall herself has made was to the Governor's Office seeking a pardon. Because Hunt is the one who helped set her on the right path, there is little doubt that he would be inclined to grant a pardon.

But Hunt's successor, Mike Easley, grants those bad boys with less frequency than Willy Wonka handed out golden tickets to his candy factory.

Since 2001, Easy E has received 481 requests for pardons. He has granted four.

Nutall knows that her odds of snaring one aren't great, but then, neither were the odds she would be a contributing member of society.