A simple room is filled with standard tables and chairs — and several cameras. Two guards sit at desks stationed in the two corners. As other inmates filter in and out of the space, which has a maximum capacity of 59 people, Charles and Tonya commence their wedding ceremony. 

In 1997, Charles Keith was arrested for armed robbery at age 19. Courts sentenced him to eight years in prison in Minnesota and 35 years in South Dakota.

Charles, now 43, grew up in Detroit, Mich., but his stepfather worked as a semi-truck driver, so his family rarely stayed in one place. Both his mother and stepfather were addicted to crack cocaine, often leaving seven-year-old Charles to care for his three younger sisters. In 1997, when the girls were six, eight and nine years old, South Dakota Child Protection services investigated the family after Charles’ stepfather molested his middle sister. Due to a previous CPS hold in 1994 from his mothers’ past addictions, the sisters were moved to foster care in Florida.

Charles couldn’t go with them.  

As he grew older and watched his life rapidly change, hate consumed Charles, leading him to take after his stepfather’s actions. 

“I went back to that criminal mindset because that’s what I knew best,” Charles said.  

Charles’ mother couldn’t afford travel to Florida for court dates, so he took matters into his own hands. When the money he’d saved from working quickly ran out, he committed three armed robberies. Being on time for court dates was necessary for him to still see his sisters.

“It was either I get the money to send to her so she can make the court date, or never see my sisters again,” said Charles. 

After Charles went to prison, his mother returned to drugs. Charles no longer is in contact with two of his sisters.

●●●

A state over, a young woman named Tonya, now 46, grew up in Southwest Minnesota. Most of Tonya’s family on her father’s side were addicts or alcoholics. Her mother had a few on her side as well. 

From a young age, Tonya faced abandonment and neglect. She had the freedom to do whatever she wanted with no parental consequence. When Tonya turned 12 years old, CPS put her into a foster home, separate from her brother and sister. 

She began drinking and using drugs the same year, growing into addiction. Low self-esteem came along, which led Tonya to be taken advantage of by others.

At 17 years old, Tonya had her first child with a man named Mike. They would marry when she was 20 and have three more children together. It was a toxic and unhealthy relationship, and Tonya said her destructive cycle continued. 

Hitting age 19, Tonya experimented with meth, which she continued to use for another six years. 

She started treatment at 25 through the New Life Treatment Center in Minnesota. This is Tonya’s first memory of ever feeling peace. At this point, faith in God occupied no place in Tonya’s life. But though she denied his existence, she began to feel fear. 

“I just didn’t think I was deserving,” Tonya said. “And if I would open up, God was going to strike me down or something for all the wrong things that I did.”

And so, life continued, as if by habit. In December 2000, Tonya took her children to see their father while he was awaiting a sentence for second degree assault. 

A man walked out of the Pipestone County jail. 

“I usually don’t go up to women, but I’m wondering if your name is Tonya?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Tonya said. She was high.

“I just got done talking with your husband Mike,” the man said. “I would really like to talk to you sometime.” 

He gave her a Gideon Bible and his card. 

“Oh no,” Tonya thought. “Crazy people.”

Three months later, Tonya ran into the same man in the front lobby of her treatment center. He had come to see another man and was doing prayer ministry with his wife. Tonya witnessed the results of the prayer session and thought, “Well, whatever happened to him is what I want to happen to me.”

●●●

Back in St. Cloud, Minnesota, Charles settled into the system of incarceration, where friendships can form from ashes. In the St. Cloud Correctional Facility, Charles met someone who had just received a sentence for 36 months. His name was Mike. Charles learned about the toxic and unhealthy relationship Mike had with his wife. 

Over time, Charles started to talk with Tonya. She would rant. Being a friend of Mike, Charles said he tried to support both in their marriage. 

Eventually, Mike and Tonya decided their marriage was no longer fixable. Too much damage had been done. Charles and Tonya, though, continued to build a friendship, which became a relationship, which lead to a transformational conversation. 

“All the things I’ve done in my life, made it through and am trying to do,” Tonya said, “are because of God in my life.” 

“No,” Charles replied. “It’s because [of] your strength and focus and drive.”

“Do you believe in God?” she asked.

“No,” Charles said. “You cannot tell me that that book that everybody reads and believes in wasn’t written by man.” 

He suggested that she believed what she wanted to and asked her to respect his beliefs as well. 

“You can’t tell me that way back when,” Charles argued, “when they wrote it on concrete tablets … they didn’t drop one of them, and it broke, and then some dude just filled in whatever was in his mind.”

Tonya at the time didn’t know this was factual but spurted out a response.

“Well, that would be a good analogy,” she said. “Except for the fact that it was written on scrolls.” 

Over time, Tonya fell in love with Charles. She wanted to be with him. But when she left that day, she looked up and asked God — however this was supposed to work — that his will be done. From then on, Tonya prayed that God would soften Charles’ heart. 

“How I know God pursued me,” Tonya said, “there’s nothing that can ever make me deny that God is real.”

Charles and Tonya continued to develop a relationship while Tonya prayed alongside Charles’ mother, who Tonya said was a Christian when she was sober. 

At the same time, Charles met a man named Ramos.

Ramos was incarcerated in the same unit. He considered himself a friend to Charles and tried to get him to go to church, talk about God and read the Bible — constantly. Ramos knew that Charles had just begun a relationship with Tonya. 

“I know that you love this woman,” Ramos said. “But it’s never going to work without God in the center of it.” 

“Whatever,” Charles replied. “I’m not trying to hear you.”

Ramos continued asking Charles to read Bible passages with him. Charles insisted he leave him alone.

His mother had tried to talk to him about God before, too.

“I sacrificed my life to get my sisters back into (her) life, and (she) just threw it away for drugs.” Charles said. “So (she) can’t talk to me about God. Because if there was a God, and he really worked in (her) life, then (she) wouldn’t have continued to go back to drugs.” 

Still, for two more months, Ramos asked Charles to read the Bible with him. Finally fed up, Charles took the Bible Ramos held and threw it at him. 

Yet, Ramos persisted.

“I want you to read one passage,” Ramos said. “It doesn’t say anything about God in it.”

“It’s the Bible,” Charles said. “That’s what it talks about is God.”  

“Let’s read 1 Corinthians 13,” Ramos simply replied. 

“Love is patient, love is kind.”

He showed Charles where to start and stop.

Charles read, then looked back up at Ramos.

“That’s how I want to love Tonya,” Charles said.

“The only way you’re ever going to love Tonya like that is if you believe in God,” Ramos said. “If you accept God into your life.”

Charles, still stubborn, knew he could love Tonya just like that without God.

Six months later, Charles attended a chapel, where Ramos shared his testimony. Charles only showed up because he “respected the guy.”

From that point on, God had grabbed a hold of his heart. 

Tonya was in the goodwill store in St. Cloud when Charles called. 

“I was just wondering if you would start reading the Bible with me?” Charles said. 

In shock, Tonya asked who she was talking to.  

Starting from there, Charles attended services frequently and accepted God into his life. He stopped denying God’s existence and became a man on fire for God. He joined the praise band and gave testimonial sermons. Charles could feel God working.

●●●

In the process, Charles felt his love for Tonya continue to grow. 

One visiting night, Charles asked Tonya if she would marry him. He had paid a prison guard to ship a ring, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t get down on one knee — that wasn’t allowed. Charles could only sit beside Tonya as he handed it to her.

She asked where in the world he obtained a ring. 

Charles said, “Please! Just answer and take the ring” before someone saw and got him in trouble. 

“These are not things that are supposed to happen,” Tonya said.

Charles said what followed was not a wedding but a ceremony in the visiting room.

Tonya said she thinks any pastor would have tried to talk her out of taking this step. She knew others would have problems and opinions. 

She paid $100 for a commission minister. Since Tonya already had her name on the visiting list, she signed up for a “special visit” on Oct. 9, 2009. 

The minister came for about 10 minutes. She asked if Tonya would take Charles and Charles would take Tonya. They both said yes. The minister finished the humble ceremony and said the married couple could kiss, an act that Tonya said was not allowed according to prison policy.  

Another inmate’s wife was there to witness. Holding hands was all they could do. 

Tonya wore not a wedding dress but a type of evening gown and a small crown on her head. To this day, she is surprised they let her wear a dress at all because it had dainty shoulder straps.

Charles and Tonya were only allowed to hug when Tonya first arrived and when she left. 

“I didn’t care about anything else, who was around, or what was going on,” Charles said. “It was just about making that commitment to her.”

After the minister left, the newlyweds sat at a table and exchanged their vows to each other. For the remaining three hours of the visit, Tonya and Charles talked about all the things they wanted to do one day when he got out. He had 18 years left on his sentence.  

Tonya faced judgement even after the union. People said to her, “Of course he’s going to call you. They don’t have anything else to do,” or “Why? Don’t you think you can get somebody out of prison that can do something for you?”

Every time Tonya’s response was simple: “Because I love him. God sees beyond the bars.” 

But even with this strong response, doubt continued to creep, something Tonya spent much time fighting back through prayer and counseling.

Two big issues brought Tonya internal battles. The first was watching other couples fall apart in the visiting room. Every week she shared visiting times with other couples, and week after week, she watched as their body language shifted, their arguments escalated and the look in their eyes changed.

The second was seeing different inmates visiting different women.  

“I saw the game,” Tonya said. “I saw what it looks like.” 

These scenes played with Tonya’s fears. Charles reassured her she did not have to worry, that they just had to focus on themselves — but Tonya thought, as a woman, it just doesn’t happen that way. 

The most painful thing for Tonya, though, was seeing other people she had gotten to know get out of prison. Seeing them be and do what she wanted was hard. Tonya said the honeymoon phase is about a year longer inside because a couple only gets two or three visits a week.

But when that honeymoon period ended, Tonya had to deal with feeling separated and lonely, while Charles had to deal with the pain of knowing his wife felt these things.

“When the honeymoon stage wore off it was like holy (moly),” Tonya said. “This is my life.” 

Charles and Tonya never stopped praying for God to open the door. Tonya believed, somehow, Charles wouldn’t do all that time. But there was no certainty.

On paper, he still had 15 years left.

●●●

It was the August of 2015, after Charles had been transferred to the Mike Durfee State Prison in Springfield, South Dakota. His unit had no air conditioning, so he went up to the library to cool down and talk with friends. While walking over, a large article on the front of the Madison newspaper caught Charles’ eye.

A sex offender had received 27 and a half years of jail time. Charles was furious that a sex offender received almost the same amount of time as he had. He thought of his sister. He picked up the newspaper and began to read. Later in the article, it talked about chronological sentencing. 

For the next two months, twice a week, Charles researched chronological sentencing through any means he had access to. During one of these habitual law library visits, Charles watched an old man walk in. He knew this had been the convicted sex offender in the paper two months ago.

Approaching him, Charles explained how he committed his crime on Dec. 5, 1997, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, then committed crimes on Dec. 14 and 15 in Minnesota. His sentences ran consecutively. 

“You have an illegal sentence,” the old man said. 

This conversation happened almost 18 years after Charles was incarcerated. 

In June 2016, Charles’ judge ran his sentences as concurrent, which knocked off close to 7 years. Charles spent the next 3.5 years in a transitioning unit doing community service. He has now been released for more than a year.

Tonya said since Charles was released, their relationship has been “awesome” and “different.”

They’ve adjusted, and Tonya said it feels like a completely new relationship.

Their relationship while Charles was in prison was based on sharing their hearts, dreaming and thinking of everything they could do one day. That was all they could do. Now that they’re living their lives outside prison, it’s hard to think of things to discuss.

One thing they’ve done is buy conversation starters.

Other physical changes have taken time to get used to as well.

“In the beginning, it was awkward,” Charles said.

As he washed dishes when Tonya got home, she didn’t know if she should jump in and help him or not, and she didn’t know what to say. 

Still, the couple continues to grow in communication, sharing space and getting into a routine.

“My weaknesses are her strengths — her weaknesses are my strengths,” Charles said. “It balances itself out.”  

Tonya said they were so restricted for so long, they were unsure about physical touch and what was OK. Although no one was watching, they felt hesitant about even hugging, since they had been trained not to for so long.  

“I understand now why so many people fall apart when they would get out of prison,” Tonya said. “Because they would have these expectations of what it was going to look like.”

With thankfulness, both Tonya and Charles believe God prepared them for this difference in their fantasies and realities. In some ways, things have been how Tonya expected.

“The way that I received his love inside is different from the way he shows me outside,” Tonya said, describing how even their love languages have changed.  

Charles doesn’t like to talk about prison, yet Tonya wants to remember together where they began, which can be difficult for both. She doesn’t want him to go back and relive prison but said this is their life, their story. 

Today, Charles works as a painter at Art Fabricators and Tonya as an addiction counselor at Keystone Treatment Center. The couple live together in an apartment in Sioux Falls.

“I also have been on both sides … being an addict myself, coming to recovery and having grown up in family dynamics of addiction,” Tonya said. “So, I have the education and hands-on experience, I suppose you’d say.”

Charles and Tonya said they look forward to buying a house and doing all the things married couples do. Tonya’s kids — now 17, 23, 25 and 28 years old — are all incredibly close to the couple. Tonya also has another 18-year-old daughter who was placed for adoption years ago. 

“And that relationship has blossomed even further as well,” Charles said. “I actually went to her graduation party. It was quite awesome.” 

Tonya and Charles have built a mutual respect and an open line of communication with Mike, Tonya’s ex husband, establishing a healthy co-parenting relationship. Tonya calls the positive transformation of that relationship extraordinary and a work of God.

Moving forward, Tonya and Charles continue to take small steps, building on the foundation of a relationship already laid. They both hope to continue growing in their careers and ultimately help other people in situations they’ve been through.

On June 12, 2021, in McKennan Park, Sioux Falls, Tonya and Charles’ renewed their vows. They invited other friends and family to join as witnesses during this second ceremony.

Tonya called them a “powerful audience,” the family and friends who had been their largest support system for the entirety of Charles’ incarceration.

“It felt like we were actually getting married instead of having a vow renewal,” Tonya said.

On this anticipated day, Charles and Tonya wrote new vows to compliment what they already promised each other. Or teasingly, they revised some of them.

“In my first vows, I had said that I would always pick up her clothes and pick up after her,” Charles said. With some of the audience knowing Charles’ original vows, he changed them the second time:

“I know I said I would pick up your clothes and everything, but that was before I realized how many clothes you had.”

Tonya reiterated that she will always be there, waiting for and with Charles. 

“God’s not a person who’s just sitting there bonking you on the head and pointing His finger at you for the things that you’ve done bad,” Charles said. “But if you are obedient, He loves you. He will bless you, and He will guide your steps.”

Charles and Tonya hope their lives speak truth to this statement. 

Looking back, Tonya reread her journal from 90 days after Charles was released. 

I was afraid of losing all that was gained throughout those years. I was afraid to say good-bye to the best years of my life and begin a new way of living that I was unsure of how it would be. After all, we have never lived together outside in a free world. One thing I know — God has us and He will continue to guide us.

I have experienced a plethora of emotions and feelings. Some of them come and go and some of them are beginning to fade as time goes on, but the biggest one is that I am enough.

No matter where we were when we got together, we were right for each other. 

Mikaela Wegner is a junior majoring in journalism at Dordt University in Sioux Center, Iowa, where she co-edits the school newspaper. She also attends the NYC Semester in Journalism program at The King’s College in NYC in 2022 and is interning at Brooklyn Paper. 

“I know I said I would pick up your clothes and everything, but that was before I realized how many clothes you had.”