Back in 2005, Marvin Haynes and I were just four years apart. I was a reporting intern at the Star Tribune then, while he was on trial for a murder he did not commit. For nearly 20 years, Haynes waded through life in a prison cell before his wrongful conviction was overturned last year.

"The justice system failed me," he said in May when he was a panelist at a Mary Ann Key Book Club event. "And I kind of felt voiceless."

That's a trauma that cannot be undone.

Haynes now seeks nearly $2 million in compensation — $100,000 for every year he was wrongfully imprisoned — according to a lawsuit filed recently with the Minnesota Supreme Court. According to state law, those who've had criminal cases exonerated without any outstanding felony cases are entitled to "no less than $50,000″ for every year of their incarceration.

I support Haynes and his pursuit of what he's due. But, respectfully, I disagree with the $2 million sum in his request.

Because he deserves so much more.

The state must grant Haynes the compensation he's owed. His claim is indisputable. But if that happens, no state official should ever call it reparations. Because the damage done when a 16-year-old Haynes was falsely accused, arrested and imprisoned for the murder of 55-year-old Randy Sherer at a Minneapolis flower shop in 2004 can't be reversed. And money will never erase the blood on the hands of every person who failed Haynes and the Sherer family in the legal process. It will, however, allow Haynes to move forward without any concerns about his financial outlook.

Because life has not been easy since his release.

While the headlines about the lawsuit discussed the crux of Haynes' claim, it's also important to understand the totality of his request from the actual lawsuit, which calls his wrongful conviction "an egregious miscarriage of justice. "

"Claimant Marvin Haynes spent nearly two decades wrongfully incarcerated for a murder and assault he did not commit. He was wrongfully arrested as a teenager of only sixteen years old, later thrust into life-threatening conditions in adult prison, and robbed of the formative years of his youth and young adulthood," the lawsuit states. "Mr. Haynes was finally exonerated and released at the age of thirty-six. During his wrongful incarceration, Mr. Haynes lost the opportunity to graduate high school alongside his peers, to see his maternal grandparents — with whom he had a close relationship — before they passed away, and to spend valuable years with his mother before a stroke rendered her unable to speak or care for herself. During the years when most teenagers find their independence and define their sense of self, Mr. Haynes was forced to spend his days worrying about his safety and fighting to prove his innocence. And while Mr. Haynes worked hard to achieve his high school diploma during his wrongful incarceration, any thought of further education had to be pushed aside in favor of tireless efforts to gain his freedom."

There are "wounds," mentioned in the lawsuit, in Haynes' family that changed him and those around him. Only Haynes and those close to him will ever understand that dynamic. But the $2 million he's earned won't remove those scars.

It is also, unfortunately, no guarantee that he will get what he's requested.

For those in Haynes' position, the battle for compensation is often fruitless. In a study of 1,800 exonerees, only 42% were compensated, according to Most Policy Initiative, a Missouri-based think tank.

Haynes has every right to live his life with an embittered demeanor. He could be angry. And I think, if I were in his shoes, I would be. But I also don't know what it's like to be Marvin Haynes. I do, however, wonder how he acquired the grace that's allowed him to begin the journey to reclaim his life.

When I first met Haynes last spring I was struck by his strength.

Despite his wrongful conviction and imprisonment, his faith never wavered and he clung to the belief that one day, he would have the opportunity to regain his freedom and tell his story. I encouraged him to write a book about his ordeal because people need to know about his experience.

He should also have the freedom to pursue every ambition without the day-to-day anxiety about his financial needs. In the years ahead, I hope Haynes' main job is to shine a brighter light on the wrongs within the criminal justice system so that others like him can also be freed and, hopefully, compensated.

But that's just the beginning. Haynes lost what cannot be replaced with a seven-figure check.

Yet, his wrongful conviction could not take what matters most to him.

"My focus was more on the type of person I wanted to be after [my wrongful incarceration] to show society that, basically, you all were missing out [on] a good person, me being wrongfully convicted," Haynes said onstage in May. "I just wanted to show people my story. To be honest with you, I wasn't mad at anybody. I really wasn't mad. And that's what got me through."