How One Man Forgave His Brother’s Killer — and Helped Him Be Released from Prison

Twenty-five years after the murder of his 17-year-old brother, a Baltimore man decided to forgive the killer — and help him secure his release from prison. United by their unique bond, the two embarked on a shared journey, dedicated to inspiring forgiveness and promoting healing among others.

It was in 1998 and Darryl Green was a junior at Pfeiffer University in Misenheimer, N.C. He was counting down the days until his little brother, 17-year-old Ruben Cotton, was to arrive for a planned visit.

“I wanted him to see what college life was like,” Green tells PEOPLE in this week’s issue. "I was excited to show him around.” 

But days before Ruben —a “gentle giant”, and a popular track and basketball star at his Baltimore high school — was due to arrive, Green was pulled out of his criminal justice class by the dean of students, who told him that his little brother was at a Baltimore hospital in critical condition. 

He had been stabbed by an acquaintance, 15-year-old Kimyon Marshall, during an argument over a pair of sneakers outside a bowling alley.

After rushing eight hours home with “a lot of anger,” Green, now 57, sat by his brother’s side and “gave him my fraternity’s secret handshake. I whispered in his ear, told him I loved him and that it was going to be okay.”

Four days later, Cotton succumbed to his injuries. Marshall was tried for murder as an adult and sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. 

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Over the next two decades, Green, an author and professor of social work at Morgan State University in Baltimore, struggled to find purpose, and dealt with anger issues as a result of the pain he held onto for so many years.

“Although Kimyon was the one behind bars, I was in my own prison,” says Green. "A prison of hatred."

In 2013, Green decided that the only way to heal was to let go of the animosity that had continued to fester as the years passed.

Before a resentencing hearing that Marshall had that summer at the Bel Air, Md., courthouse, Green told his father that he wanted to forgive Kimyon — and his father agreed that it was time. At the courthouse that day, Marshall, who sat in shackles, read aloud a letter he wrote to Green and his family that had never been delivered to them. 

“He was saying how sorry and remorseful he was,” recalls Green, a father of two who lives with his wife Christie, 56. “We had been waiting for that forever.”

It was the beginning of their second chapter — together. Green spoke on behalf of Cotton and their family who recommended Marshall be released, and asked the court if he could approach Marshall. 

“I shook his hand. He was crying, I was crying,” recalls Green. “I said to him, ‘You’ve been known for taking a life, now let’s go save some lives together.'”

Since then, the two have been doing just that. Together, they launched an organization, Deep Forgiveness, in 2016, where they host workshops and seminars and a mentoring program for young people struggling to break the cycle of violence.

“Forgiveness is important because it will set you free,” says Green. “And some days it’s like the AA 12-step program. You will be feeling good and you get to step nine, something will happen and trigger you and you might go back to step three.”

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He adds, “Forgiveness is not about the other person. It is for you and you only. Once you forgive, you’re now able to unlock the key to your own prison cell.”

It’s something he and Marshall try to teach students so that they don’t hold onto small grudges, divide their families and make poor choices.

Marshall, who lives just 10-minutes away from Green, tells PEOPLE that “seeing me and Darryl together is powerful. If we can come together after what I did to his family, then anything is possible.”

And while he's ever remorseful for his actions, Marshall finds satisfaction — and hope — when he helps change the course of a young person who is going down the same dark path he took when he ended Cotton’s life. 

“I tell them that it took three seconds for me to make a decision that ruined my life and other people’s lives together,” says Marshall, now 50, who also works for his father’s cleaning business. “I try to get them to understand that every action you make has a consequence to it and that you need to try and see the bigger picture.”

That bigger picture is something Marshall doesn’t take his eyes off for a single second. 

“When he [Darryl] and his family opened up their hearts to me, they were giving me the freedom to move on with my life and give back to the community — a remarkable gift. I feel as though I may be saving lives.”