In the movie 'Silence of the Lambs,' Jodie Foster as FBI agent Clarice Starling in a character-defining moment reveals that when she was 10 years old, she awoke one night to the sound of spring lambs screaming as they were being led to the slaughter.

She snuck out of bed and crept into her uncle's barn. "I took one lamb, and I ran away as fast as I could… I thought, I thought if I could save just one."

In some ways, that reminds me of what's happening in prisons and jails across the country, where about 2.3 million people are behind bars and the coronavirus is inexorably spreading—and where Akin Gump Strauss Hauer & Feld senior counsel Mira Baylson just saved one man. 

On Tuesday, Senior U.S. District Judge Anita Brody of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania ordered the immediate compassionate release of Baylson's pro bono client, Jeremy Rodriguez. A model inmate who has served more than 17 years of a 20 year sentence for drug dealing and illegal firearm possession, he has diabetes, high blood pressure and liver abnormalities, which put him at a higher risk of dying from the virus.

It's a powerful and eloquent opinion—but can it pave the way to help other similarly situated prisoners before it's too late? 

"Prisons are tinderboxes for infectious disease," wrote Brody, who was appointed to the bench by President George H.W. Bush 28 years ago. "The question whether the government can protect inmates from COVID-19 is being answered every day, as outbreaks appear in new facilities… After examining the law, holding oral argument, and evaluating all the evidence that has been presented, I reach the inescapable conclusion that Mr. Rodriguez must be granted 'compassionate release.'"

At the federal detention center in Elkton, Ohio, where Rodriguez has been held, groups of about 140 inmates are housed together in large rooms, sleeping in triple bunk beds, Baylson said. Soap is only available if it's purchased at the commissary, which has been closed for two weeks. The inmates share a thermometer without sanitization. At least two prisoners there have already tested positive for COVID-19.

When you think about how widely the virus spread on cruise ships, it seems inevitable that things are going to be bad behind bars. Really bad. Like death camp bad. 

Of course, that's not to say we should open the doors and let everyone out. "We have to balance community safety," Baylson readily admits. 

But for some inmates—non-violent ones who are mostly done with their sentences, who have families ready to welcome them home, who don't appear to pose a threat to the community—and who have an elevated chance of dying from coronavirus?

Prisoner class actions are popping up around the country. In the Eastern District of New York, for example, lawyers from Emery Celli Brinckerhoff & Abady along with the Cardozo Civil Rights Clinic and Alexander A.  Reinert filed a class action on March 27 demanding the immediate release of 537 medically vulnerable individuals from the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn.

Various state and local authorities have also been releasing certain groups of prisoners, such as those being held on parole violations. 

On March 26, Attorney General William Barr sent a memo to the head of the Bureau of Prisons "directing [him] to prioritize the use of [his] various statutory authorities to grant home confinement for inmates seeking transfer in connection with the COVID-19 pandemic." 

Moreover, Barr specifically recognized that "there are some at-risk inmates who are non-violent and pose minimal likelihood of recidivism and who might be safer serving their sentences in home confinement rather than BOP facilities." 

It sounds good on paper. But in reality, DOJ fought like crazy to keep Rodriguez in prison. 

In a 38-page brief filed two days after Baylson petitioned for her client's release, AUSA Robert A. Zauzmer wrote on March 27 that Rodriguez "is in generally good health, and does not present the type of extraordinary medical circumstances for which compassionate release is intended."

Zauzmer, who is chief of appeals for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, argued that Rodriguez "presents a concern regarding exposure to COVID-19, which is understandable, but his circumstances are similar to those of many thousands of federal inmates… In short, compassionate release is designed to address exceptional circumstances, generally involving medical situations such as terminal illness, or the need to care for ailing family members. Rodriguez presents no such circumstance, and his motion should be denied."

For the judge, the decision hinged on the First Step Act, which was passed by Congress in 2018 and amended the language under which a sentencing court could reduce a sentence for an "extraordinary and compelling reason." What's been less clear is how much leeway judges have to make the call.

That Rodriguez was in a position to litigate the question was largely the result of luck. 

In 2018, he filed a pro se petition arguing that his sentencing was improper and should be reduced for other reasons. Last year, the court appointed Baylson under the Criminal Justice Act to represent him.

She had yet to file a motion on his behalf when the coronavirus crisis exploded. She saw an opening to argue for compassionate release, teaming up with solo practitioner Matthew Stiegler in Philadelphia and Jim Davy from Equal Justice Under Law. She also credits Akin Gump paralegal Gerri Powell for her assistance with the case.

Brody moved quickly in response, holding a telephonic hearing on Friday. ("I did it with my two dogs lying next to me and my husband frantically shushing our kids," Baylson said.)

The judge in her decision concluded that the court "may independently assess whether 'extraordinary and compelling reasons' exist" to grant early release, noting that Congress never defined the term "extraordinary and compelling reasons," except to state that "[r]ehabilitation . . . alone" does not suffice.

 "For Mr. Rodriguez, nothing could be more extraordinary and compelling than this pandemic," Brody wrote.

Baylson chokes up talking about the decision. "I can't tell you how wonderful it was to call [Rodriguez's] wife and tell her the good news," she said.