Prosecutors: Daycare worker admits abusing 23 kids
Joshua Ritchie is charged with lewd conduct with a child and is being held on $2.5 million bond
Associated Press
NAMPA, Idaho — Prosecutors say a 23-year-old daycare worker in Idaho has confessed to sexually abusing 23 children.
Joshua Ritchie is charged with lewd conduct with a child and is being held on $2.5 million bond.
Ritchie was arrested Aug. 21 after a 5-year-old boy reportedly told his parents that he was sexually abused.
Ritchie worked at Cornerstone Childcare in Nampa about 20 miles outside of Boise and was also a kitchen staff substitute for the Nampa School District and at the Idaho Arts Charter School.
Prosecutors told Judge Brian Lee during a hearing Wednesday that Ritchie told investigators he's sexually abused 23 kids between the ages of 5 and 12.
Copyright 2012 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
Ritchie's attorney, public defender Bill Schwartz, did not immediately return a phone call from The Associated Press
http://www.correctionsone.com/corrections/articles/5956661-Prosecutors-Daycare-worker-admits-abusing-23-kids/
Monday, September 10, 2012
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Robert Leone Brutally Beaten By Pennsylvania State Police
Robert Leone Brutally Beaten By Pennsylvania State Police: ...
A handful of Pennsylvania State officers are under fire this month as attorneys review video ...
07/05/2012 2:46 pm Updated: 07/05/2012 6:36 pm ... family believes authorities want to keep their
son imprisoned for the .... I mean they made it way too difficult for prisoners to complain about ...
www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/07/05/robert-leone_n_1651829.html
---------------------------------------------
A handful of Pennsylvania State officers are under fire this month as attorneys review video ...
07/05/2012 2:46 pm Updated: 07/05/2012 6:36 pm ... family believes authorities want to keep their
son imprisoned for the .... I mean they made it way too difficult for prisoners to complain about ...
www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/07/05/robert-leone_n_1651829.html
---------------------------------------------
Oregon's prison for women accused of failing to stop inmate abuse
Oregon's prison for women accused of failing to stop inmate abuse
Published: Tuesday, June 26, 2012, 3:13 PM
SALEM -- A lawsuit accuses Oregon's prison for women of failing to stop the sexual abuse of an inmate during a period when the state was paying $1.2 million to settle the sexual abuse claims of 17 current and former inmates.
The suit alleges two male employees targeted an inmate at Coffee Creek Correctional Facility from 2008 to 2012, the Salem Statesman Journal reported Tuesday. It claimed the abuse included orders to perform oral sex, kissing and groping her, and watching her shower.
One employee in the lawsuit, 38-year-old Shawn Jacob Riley, was arrested in April and charged with official misconduct and custodial sexual misconduct. The second employee is a corrections officer only named as Mr. Jacques.
The lawyer who filed the suit last week, Brian Lathen of Salem, said the first name isn't known.
Riley, a maintenance worker, was the second physical plant employee at the Wilsonville prison to be arrested this year and charged with sexual misconduct with an inmate.
Department of Corrections officials said steps have been taken to prevent such abuse. Each of the department's facilities now has a sexual assault response team, as well as a hotline number that inmates or their families can use to report abuse, said agency spokeswoman Anita Nelson.
Lathen, who represented many of the 17 earlier victims, said that has not been enough to stop the abuse.
"When I heard these new incidents were fairly recent, I was really surprised, because they were swearing up and down that they had made changes so it wouldn't happen again," he said.
-- The Associated Press
http://www.oregonlive.com/pacific-northwest-news/index.ssf/2012/06/oregons_prison_for_women_accus.html?fb_action_ids=381005958631748&fb_action_types=og.recommends&fb_source=aggregation&fb_aggregation_id=246965925417366
Published: Tuesday, June 26, 2012, 3:13 PM
SALEM -- A lawsuit accuses Oregon's prison for women of failing to stop the sexual abuse of an inmate during a period when the state was paying $1.2 million to settle the sexual abuse claims of 17 current and former inmates.
The suit alleges two male employees targeted an inmate at Coffee Creek Correctional Facility from 2008 to 2012, the Salem Statesman Journal reported Tuesday. It claimed the abuse included orders to perform oral sex, kissing and groping her, and watching her shower.
One employee in the lawsuit, 38-year-old Shawn Jacob Riley, was arrested in April and charged with official misconduct and custodial sexual misconduct. The second employee is a corrections officer only named as Mr. Jacques.
The lawyer who filed the suit last week, Brian Lathen of Salem, said the first name isn't known.
Riley, a maintenance worker, was the second physical plant employee at the Wilsonville prison to be arrested this year and charged with sexual misconduct with an inmate.
Department of Corrections officials said steps have been taken to prevent such abuse. Each of the department's facilities now has a sexual assault response team, as well as a hotline number that inmates or their families can use to report abuse, said agency spokeswoman Anita Nelson.
Lathen, who represented many of the 17 earlier victims, said that has not been enough to stop the abuse.
"When I heard these new incidents were fairly recent, I was really surprised, because they were swearing up and down that they had made changes so it wouldn't happen again," he said.
-- The Associated Press
http://www.oregonlive.com/pacific-northwest-news/index.ssf/2012/06/oregons_prison_for_women_accus.html?fb_action_ids=381005958631748&fb_action_types=og.recommends&fb_source=aggregation&fb_aggregation_id=246965925417366
Friday, August 3, 2012
County Admits To Abuse While Kids Were In Lock-Up
Government admits to child abuse in Secure Centers
By Paul Sullivan, from insidetime issue August 2011
Whenever the Government tries to conceal a document it is most likely that it contains information that would be ‘embarrassing’ rather than a security threat; and never more so than the manual detailing the institutionalised abuse of children in privatised secure accommodation which has just been prised from the Government’s grasp.
It is no wonder it took 5 years to force the Government’s hand when it contains what Phillip Noyes, of the NSPCC, called ‘shocking revelations graphically illustrating the cruel and degrading violence inflicted on children in custody’. Behaviour which would see a parent prosecuted and their children removed.
The Government fought to the end to keep it secret; even after the Information Commissioner said that public interest was so grave the document should be released.
It is hard to imagine a situation, in a juvenile centre, so serious that it would warrant the violence sanctioned by the report. The Ministry of Justice say, ‘staff need to be able to intervene effectively, to protect the safety of all involved.”
What many people who have witnessed the prison system at first hand could point out is that most ‘interventions’ are not about ensuring safety but more about graphically demonstrating who has the power and who is in control. ‘Control’ is an overused word in the prison industry. There are very few situations where immediate or violent action is required because, by the very nature of the establishments, every door has a lock.
The population of the juvenile estate are legally children and one would expect them to behave like children with the outbursts and tantrums that are part of being a child. We have long been told that being truculent and rebellious is a part of adolescence that is important to the healthy maturity to adulthood.
In most cases, de-escalation of an incident can be achieved either by withdrawing or by counselling. This may be a good use of female staff, who are not seen as a threat and can use gentle reason to achieve the desired outcome.
If a prisoner, juvenile or adult, is smashing their cell; most of the damage is to their own property - there is very little damage that can Government admits to child abuse in Secure Centres actually be done to prison property other than a smashed TV. Rather than a testosterone drunk riot squad, with shields, smashing their way in, it would be more sensible to quietly observe until the person has calmed down; and then someone who the person trusts goes in for a chat.
That word ‘trust’ is important. How could anyone trust a group of people who abuse them. Trust is the thing that feeds compliance and rehabilitation, and trust is one of the most powerful tools in de-escalation but is also the easiest thing to lose. Violence to achieve power and compliance actually achieves nothing but hatred and distrust. You only have to look at wartime resistance movements to see that forcefully demonstrating power achieves nothing except, sometimes, a more determined opposition.
There are very rare occasions when intervention might be critical; in the case of immediate self-harm or a violent attack on another person but in a juvenile centre where the staff bulk, strength and training outweighs the residents manyfold there should never be a need to resort to the violence described in the report. Such violence demonstrates failure and anarchy.
Because these are ‘closed’ establishments nobody sees what goes on; they are surrounded with secrecy. After 14 year-old Adam Rickward hanged himself at Hassockfield Secure Training Centre it was revealed that, shortly before his death, he had been restrained using ‘unlawful force’: yet nobody has been held to account.
Assuming these staff are adults, and possibly fathers, it is hard to imagine how they justify to themselves the violence they inflict on the children.
Custody staff are trained not to see prisoners as individual people and this can cause the weaker ones, who may have been bullied as a child, to use force and ‘power’ to counter their own feelings of weakness and guilt. Once again, a better system of staff recruitment, better training, and absolute supervision by people who are held to account is long overdue.
It’s a sad day when the state has to admit to institutionalised violence against the vulnerable people in their custody; sadder still, possibly, because this violence is contracted out to private companies to make profit for their shareholders. How do those shareholders now view their holdings in these companies?
Paul Sullivan was formerly resident at HMP Wakefield.
By Paul Sullivan, from insidetime issue August 2011
Whenever the Government tries to conceal a document it is most likely that it contains information that would be ‘embarrassing’ rather than a security threat; and never more so than the manual detailing the institutionalised abuse of children in privatised secure accommodation which has just been prised from the Government’s grasp.
It is no wonder it took 5 years to force the Government’s hand when it contains what Phillip Noyes, of the NSPCC, called ‘shocking revelations graphically illustrating the cruel and degrading violence inflicted on children in custody’. Behaviour which would see a parent prosecuted and their children removed.
The Government fought to the end to keep it secret; even after the Information Commissioner said that public interest was so grave the document should be released.
It is hard to imagine a situation, in a juvenile centre, so serious that it would warrant the violence sanctioned by the report. The Ministry of Justice say, ‘staff need to be able to intervene effectively, to protect the safety of all involved.”
What many people who have witnessed the prison system at first hand could point out is that most ‘interventions’ are not about ensuring safety but more about graphically demonstrating who has the power and who is in control. ‘Control’ is an overused word in the prison industry. There are very few situations where immediate or violent action is required because, by the very nature of the establishments, every door has a lock.
The population of the juvenile estate are legally children and one would expect them to behave like children with the outbursts and tantrums that are part of being a child. We have long been told that being truculent and rebellious is a part of adolescence that is important to the healthy maturity to adulthood.
In most cases, de-escalation of an incident can be achieved either by withdrawing or by counselling. This may be a good use of female staff, who are not seen as a threat and can use gentle reason to achieve the desired outcome.
If a prisoner, juvenile or adult, is smashing their cell; most of the damage is to their own property - there is very little damage that can Government admits to child abuse in Secure Centres actually be done to prison property other than a smashed TV. Rather than a testosterone drunk riot squad, with shields, smashing their way in, it would be more sensible to quietly observe until the person has calmed down; and then someone who the person trusts goes in for a chat.
That word ‘trust’ is important. How could anyone trust a group of people who abuse them. Trust is the thing that feeds compliance and rehabilitation, and trust is one of the most powerful tools in de-escalation but is also the easiest thing to lose. Violence to achieve power and compliance actually achieves nothing but hatred and distrust. You only have to look at wartime resistance movements to see that forcefully demonstrating power achieves nothing except, sometimes, a more determined opposition.
There are very rare occasions when intervention might be critical; in the case of immediate self-harm or a violent attack on another person but in a juvenile centre where the staff bulk, strength and training outweighs the residents manyfold there should never be a need to resort to the violence described in the report. Such violence demonstrates failure and anarchy.
Because these are ‘closed’ establishments nobody sees what goes on; they are surrounded with secrecy. After 14 year-old Adam Rickward hanged himself at Hassockfield Secure Training Centre it was revealed that, shortly before his death, he had been restrained using ‘unlawful force’: yet nobody has been held to account.
Assuming these staff are adults, and possibly fathers, it is hard to imagine how they justify to themselves the violence they inflict on the children.
Custody staff are trained not to see prisoners as individual people and this can cause the weaker ones, who may have been bullied as a child, to use force and ‘power’ to counter their own feelings of weakness and guilt. Once again, a better system of staff recruitment, better training, and absolute supervision by people who are held to account is long overdue.
It’s a sad day when the state has to admit to institutionalised violence against the vulnerable people in their custody; sadder still, possibly, because this violence is contracted out to private companies to make profit for their shareholders. How do those shareholders now view their holdings in these companies?
Paul Sullivan was formerly resident at HMP Wakefield.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Carter's death followed a violent "cell extraction" in which corrections officers used pepper spray and stun guns,
Death in Pennsylvania Solitary Confinement Cell Raises Questions
by Hannah Taleb
On April 26 of this year, John Carter died in his solitary confinement cell at State Correctional Institution (SCI) Rockview in central Pennsylvania. According to accounts by other men imprisoned on his cell block, Carter's death followed a violent "cell extraction" in which corrections officers used pepper spray and stun guns, though the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections makes no mention of such actions in its official statements, and state police have yet to interview inmate eyewitnesses.
In 1995, John Carter took part in a robbery that resulted in the murder of one man in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He was sixteen at the time, and was convicted of second-degree felony murder. In Pennsylvania, which has more juvenile lifers than any other state, his conviction meant a mandatory life sentence without the possibility of parole. (Under the Supreme Court's June 25 ruling, in Miller v. Alabama, that mandatory life sentences without parole for juveniles were unconstitutional, Carter would likely have had his sentence reconsidered, had he lived to see the day.)
At some point during Carter's sixteen-year imprisonment, he was placed on what's called the Restricted Release List, a form of indefinite solitary confinement that can only be ended with approval by the Secretary of the Department of Corrections. Jeffrey Rackovan, the Public Information Officer at SCI Rockview, admitted that this designation meant John could have "spent the rest of his life in solitary confinement." Before his death Carter had spent the last ten to eleven years in solitary. According to prisoner reports he had been known to break the rules of his unit in order to share food, hygiene items, and writing utensils with newcomers to his block, and adamantly used both the grievance process and legal system to challenge acts of abuse and retaliation by prison staff.
On April 27, the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections issued a press release announcing that John Carter had been found “unresponsive in his cell” the day before. Reports from the unit soon began to reach Carter’s family and the Human Rights Coalition, a Pennsylvania-based prisoner advocacy and abolitionist organization. The reports explained that Carter had been subject to a cell extraction on the day of his death after a dispute with guards who refused to issue him a food tray instead of nutraloaf, a dense, unpalatable substance issued as punishment in place of meals. The cell extraction was the second Carter had been subjected to that week, during which guards entered his cell in full riot gear, armed with OC spray and electroshock weapons.
The statements from prisoners explained a brutal scene, with excessive amounts of pepper spray being pumped into Carter’s cell so as to flood the whole tier with the choking gas. According to prisoner accounts, guards then broke down the door to the cell and proceeded to shock Carter seven times with electroshock shields and guns. Many of the reports end with Carter being dragged from his cell, paramedics arriving 10 to 15 minutes later, and an unresponsive Carter being removed from the block. He was pronounced dead at Mount Nittany Medical Center a short time later.
Andre Jacobs, a jailhouse lawyer housed on the same block as John wrote a five page declaration detailing the events of that day. Many others sent in the story as they heard and saw it, all of them asserting that John Carter was “murdered . . . here in this RHU torture zone, where guards come on the tier calling people racial slurs.”
The press statement released by the Department of Corrections made no mention of a cell extraction, or any confrontation at all occurring on the day of Carter’s death. Reports from inside the prison claimed that superintendent Marirosa Lamas came to the Restricted Housing Unit tier the night of John Carter’s death alleging that he had committed suicide, an assertion never made to the public. But officials first claimed that no cell extraction took place the day of Carter’s death, then that there was an extraction but no video footage, and finally that an extraction took place but the footage may have been “damaged.”
Because Carter died from what was considered unnatural causes, the Pennsylvania State Police were brought in to investigate his death. By May 10th the police had released a statement that notes John Carter was found “unresponsive in his cell,” but goes on to describe that he had “barricaded himself in his cell and refused numerous orders” which precipitated “the DOCs response to the inmate’s cell.” The statement goes on the say that autopsy reports were “inconclusive” and evidence had indicated “no foul play” in Carter’s death. Once again no mention was made of the use of pepper spray or electroshock weapons.
Calls to the state police were met with the assurance that a “thorough” investigation would be carried out. However, according to statements from prisoners held on John Carter’s block, not one of them was ever questioned as to the events of April 26.
Jeffrey Rackovan told Solitary Watch that the prison had “done its part” in the investigation, handing over video footage and allowing investigators to enter the prison. Rackovan noted that investigators surely spoke to those they “needed to”--the “officers involved in the extraction.” He also assured that John Carter’s cell had been inspected, though numerous prisoner reports claim that it was thoroughly cleaned shortly after Carter was removed.
According to advocates at the Human Rights Coalition, the investigation carried out by the state police fits within a general pattern of refusal by state authorities to investigate and prosecute the alleged crimes of prison guards and officials against the prisoners in their care. No statements have been made by the State Police since May 10. Toxicology reports from the coroner's office are still forthcoming more than two months after John Carter’s death.
John Carter’s family is not satisfied with the investigation thus far and are resolved to find justice in his death. They arranged for a second autopsy, and filed a criminal complaint with the Center County District Attorney, Stacy Parks-Miller, in June. As a response the DA’s office is now overseeing the investigation carried out by the State Police, but has released no further information on its progress. When contacted, Ms. Parks-Miller's office would not respond with any comment on the investigation.
John Carter’s sister, Michelle Williams, explained in a May 7 interview with me for Rustbelt Radio that she wants justice not only for her family but for all of the other families with loved ones inside of Pennsylvania prisons. “Just because they are in jail," she said, "doesn’t mean you can treat them as anything else but human.” Listen to the full radio report here.
http://solitarywatch.com/2012/07/20/death-in-pennsylvania-solitary-confinement-cell-raises-questions/
-----------------------------------------
We need to support this family and mention this incident in all of our actions/presentations/etc.
On April 26 of this year, John Carter died in his solitary confinement cell at State Correctional Institution (SCI) Rockview in central Pennsylvania. According to accounts by other men imprisoned on his cell block, Carter's death followed a violent "cell extraction" in which corrections officers used pepper spray and stun guns, though the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections makes no mention of such actions in its official statements, and state police have yet to interview inmate eyewitnesses.
This link and following text came out at the time of John Carter's murder and following is a current article on the follow/cover-up that needs to be challenged.
http://www.prisonradio.org/media/audio/breaking-prison-news-reports-hrc/hrc-breaking-news-murder-john-carter-sci-rockview-pa
In the weeks since the death of John Carter, the Human Rights Coalition and Carter’s family have both received numerous letters attesting to John’s good character and strong spirit. John had been held in solitary confinement in several different prisons for the last ten-to-eleven years, but continued to help others. A prisoner at SCI Rockview wrote of Carter: “He was a person of integrity. He did not believe in abuse of others, especially the abuse of prisoners from prison guards. If he could help someone in understanding the law, he was there. And he had a lot of patience with others, especially the mentally impaired.” Another prisoner from SCI Camp Hill stated: “Its no question in my mind. He died fighting against oppression. His name and memory will not be forgotten.” Carter’s death has been a shock to many prisoners, and they want justice for him; “Why isn’t there a big investigation, an outrage about John Carter’s death like there is about Trayvon Martion? John Carter was black, he was someone’s son and he died senselessly. Let not his death go in vain,” said an SCI Frackville prisoner. Many of the letters received simply shared memories of Carter, who was sentenced to life in prison at the age of sixteen and spent half of his life there, but continued to be a strong and loving person. Another prisoner said there were three words for John; “Loyalty, intelligence, fearless.” A man incarcerated at SCI Huntingdon wrote to his departed comrade: “You’ve made that transition to the other side, wherever that may be. But what I say shall come to pass, for it is written J-Rock, that children of the night shall forever find each other in the dark.” He will be missed.
HRC Breaking News Murder of John Carter at SCI Rockview PA | Prison Radiowww.prisonradio.org
by Hannah Taleb
On April 26 of this year, John Carter died in his solitary confinement cell at State Correctional Institution (SCI) Rockview in central Pennsylvania. According to accounts by other men imprisoned on his cell block, Carter's death followed a violent "cell extraction" in which corrections officers used pepper spray and stun guns, though the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections makes no mention of such actions in its official statements, and state police have yet to interview inmate eyewitnesses.
In 1995, John Carter took part in a robbery that resulted in the murder of one man in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He was sixteen at the time, and was convicted of second-degree felony murder. In Pennsylvania, which has more juvenile lifers than any other state, his conviction meant a mandatory life sentence without the possibility of parole. (Under the Supreme Court's June 25 ruling, in Miller v. Alabama, that mandatory life sentences without parole for juveniles were unconstitutional, Carter would likely have had his sentence reconsidered, had he lived to see the day.)
At some point during Carter's sixteen-year imprisonment, he was placed on what's called the Restricted Release List, a form of indefinite solitary confinement that can only be ended with approval by the Secretary of the Department of Corrections. Jeffrey Rackovan, the Public Information Officer at SCI Rockview, admitted that this designation meant John could have "spent the rest of his life in solitary confinement." Before his death Carter had spent the last ten to eleven years in solitary. According to prisoner reports he had been known to break the rules of his unit in order to share food, hygiene items, and writing utensils with newcomers to his block, and adamantly used both the grievance process and legal system to challenge acts of abuse and retaliation by prison staff.
On April 27, the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections issued a press release announcing that John Carter had been found “unresponsive in his cell” the day before. Reports from the unit soon began to reach Carter’s family and the Human Rights Coalition, a Pennsylvania-based prisoner advocacy and abolitionist organization. The reports explained that Carter had been subject to a cell extraction on the day of his death after a dispute with guards who refused to issue him a food tray instead of nutraloaf, a dense, unpalatable substance issued as punishment in place of meals. The cell extraction was the second Carter had been subjected to that week, during which guards entered his cell in full riot gear, armed with OC spray and electroshock weapons.
The statements from prisoners explained a brutal scene, with excessive amounts of pepper spray being pumped into Carter’s cell so as to flood the whole tier with the choking gas. According to prisoner accounts, guards then broke down the door to the cell and proceeded to shock Carter seven times with electroshock shields and guns. Many of the reports end with Carter being dragged from his cell, paramedics arriving 10 to 15 minutes later, and an unresponsive Carter being removed from the block. He was pronounced dead at Mount Nittany Medical Center a short time later.
Andre Jacobs, a jailhouse lawyer housed on the same block as John wrote a five page declaration detailing the events of that day. Many others sent in the story as they heard and saw it, all of them asserting that John Carter was “murdered . . . here in this RHU torture zone, where guards come on the tier calling people racial slurs.”
The press statement released by the Department of Corrections made no mention of a cell extraction, or any confrontation at all occurring on the day of Carter’s death. Reports from inside the prison claimed that superintendent Marirosa Lamas came to the Restricted Housing Unit tier the night of John Carter’s death alleging that he had committed suicide, an assertion never made to the public. But officials first claimed that no cell extraction took place the day of Carter’s death, then that there was an extraction but no video footage, and finally that an extraction took place but the footage may have been “damaged.”
Because Carter died from what was considered unnatural causes, the Pennsylvania State Police were brought in to investigate his death. By May 10th the police had released a statement that notes John Carter was found “unresponsive in his cell,” but goes on to describe that he had “barricaded himself in his cell and refused numerous orders” which precipitated “the DOCs response to the inmate’s cell.” The statement goes on the say that autopsy reports were “inconclusive” and evidence had indicated “no foul play” in Carter’s death. Once again no mention was made of the use of pepper spray or electroshock weapons.
Calls to the state police were met with the assurance that a “thorough” investigation would be carried out. However, according to statements from prisoners held on John Carter’s block, not one of them was ever questioned as to the events of April 26.
Jeffrey Rackovan told Solitary Watch that the prison had “done its part” in the investigation, handing over video footage and allowing investigators to enter the prison. Rackovan noted that investigators surely spoke to those they “needed to”--the “officers involved in the extraction.” He also assured that John Carter’s cell had been inspected, though numerous prisoner reports claim that it was thoroughly cleaned shortly after Carter was removed.
According to advocates at the Human Rights Coalition, the investigation carried out by the state police fits within a general pattern of refusal by state authorities to investigate and prosecute the alleged crimes of prison guards and officials against the prisoners in their care. No statements have been made by the State Police since May 10. Toxicology reports from the coroner's office are still forthcoming more than two months after John Carter’s death.
John Carter’s family is not satisfied with the investigation thus far and are resolved to find justice in his death. They arranged for a second autopsy, and filed a criminal complaint with the Center County District Attorney, Stacy Parks-Miller, in June. As a response the DA’s office is now overseeing the investigation carried out by the State Police, but has released no further information on its progress. When contacted, Ms. Parks-Miller's office would not respond with any comment on the investigation.
John Carter’s sister, Michelle Williams, explained in a May 7 interview with me for Rustbelt Radio that she wants justice not only for her family but for all of the other families with loved ones inside of Pennsylvania prisons. “Just because they are in jail," she said, "doesn’t mean you can treat them as anything else but human.” Listen to the full radio report here.
http://solitarywatch.com/2012/07/20/death-in-pennsylvania-solitary-confinement-cell-raises-questions/
-----------------------------------------
We need to support this family and mention this incident in all of our actions/presentations/etc.
On April 26 of this year, John Carter died in his solitary confinement cell at State Correctional Institution (SCI) Rockview in central Pennsylvania. According to accounts by other men imprisoned on his cell block, Carter's death followed a violent "cell extraction" in which corrections officers used pepper spray and stun guns, though the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections makes no mention of such actions in its official statements, and state police have yet to interview inmate eyewitnesses.
This link and following text came out at the time of John Carter's murder and following is a current article on the follow/cover-up that needs to be challenged.
http://www.prisonradio.org/media/audio/breaking-prison-news-reports-hrc/hrc-breaking-news-murder-john-carter-sci-rockview-pa
In the weeks since the death of John Carter, the Human Rights Coalition and Carter’s family have both received numerous letters attesting to John’s good character and strong spirit. John had been held in solitary confinement in several different prisons for the last ten-to-eleven years, but continued to help others. A prisoner at SCI Rockview wrote of Carter: “He was a person of integrity. He did not believe in abuse of others, especially the abuse of prisoners from prison guards. If he could help someone in understanding the law, he was there. And he had a lot of patience with others, especially the mentally impaired.” Another prisoner from SCI Camp Hill stated: “Its no question in my mind. He died fighting against oppression. His name and memory will not be forgotten.” Carter’s death has been a shock to many prisoners, and they want justice for him; “Why isn’t there a big investigation, an outrage about John Carter’s death like there is about Trayvon Martion? John Carter was black, he was someone’s son and he died senselessly. Let not his death go in vain,” said an SCI Frackville prisoner. Many of the letters received simply shared memories of Carter, who was sentenced to life in prison at the age of sixteen and spent half of his life there, but continued to be a strong and loving person. Another prisoner said there were three words for John; “Loyalty, intelligence, fearless.” A man incarcerated at SCI Huntingdon wrote to his departed comrade: “You’ve made that transition to the other side, wherever that may be. But what I say shall come to pass, for it is written J-Rock, that children of the night shall forever find each other in the dark.” He will be missed.
HRC Breaking News Murder of John Carter at SCI Rockview PA | Prison Radiowww.prisonradio.org
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Tarrant County jailer brutalized inmates
Tarrant County jailer brutalized inmates, lawsuits say
Posted Friday, Jul. 06, 2012
BY DEANNA BOYD
dboyd@star-telegram.com
FORT WORTH -- Six Tarrant County Jail inmates have filed federal lawsuits saying they were brutalized by a jailer who is now the focus of a criminal investigation by the Sheriff's Department.
Deputy Joseph Thornhill, who had been with the department since January 2007, resigned abruptly April 26, not long after sheriff's officials say they began investigating the allegations.
The lawsuits, all filed last month, say Thornhill forced inmates housed in 59C, a pod reserved for mental-health and mental-retardation clients, to degrade themselves and other inmates between February and April.
"For many reasons, some inmates in 59C can not fend for themselves," the inmates say in several of the suits. "Officer Thornhill knew these weaknesses and he would prey on their impairments."
The lawsuit says Sheriff Dee Anderson, who is also named as a defendant, allowed the "wanton infliction of pain" on the inmates.
Anderson confirmed Friday that a criminal investigation is under way.
"Whenever the allegations surfaced, we started internal and criminal investigations because obviously some of the allegations were criminal in nature," he said.
He said, however, that he could not discuss the case because of the pending suits.
Thornhill, 29, could not be reached for comment Friday. Federal court documents do not indicate whether he has retained an attorney.
The suits were filed by Christopher William Thomas, David Linn Robertson, Matthew Cotton, Stephen Walker, Randall Harr and Bradley Andrews. All remained in the jail Friday on charges ranging from parole violations to drugs and aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.
The suits say that over three months, Thornhill violated the inmates' civil rights by inflicting "severe emotional, mental and physical pain."
Some of the suits include a letter dated April 26 and signed by 17 inmates detailing abuse that the suits say Thornhill inflicted.
The letter says Thornhill, through intimidation, made inmates do "sexual type acts" to one another, sexually touched inmates and kicked inmates in sexual areas. Some inmates reported being locked in broom closets and ordered to defecate on the floor and in other inmates' sinks. Other inmates say Thornhill struck them with rubber bands, soap packages and glass cleaner and placed items including spray bottles, broom handles and soda bottles into their buttocks.
Thornhill would threaten corporal punishment or discipline if inmates did not comply with his demands or tried to tell other officers about his actions, the letter says. The inmates say the jailer bribed other inmates to keep quiet by giving them extra food and other items.
The inmates say they have done all they can through the jail's inmate grievance system, "and the jail has done nothing to secure our fear of retaliation from Officer Thornhill, Sheriff Dee Anderson or any other officer."
The inmates, who sued on their own behalf, ask that the federal court facilitate sanctions and provide monetary relief for their suffering and injury.
Deanna Boyd, 817-390-7655
Twitter: @deannaboyd
Read more here: http://www.star-telegram.com/2012/07/06/4083820/tarrant-county-jailer-brutalized.html#storylink=cpy
Posted Friday, Jul. 06, 2012
BY DEANNA BOYD
dboyd@star-telegram.com
FORT WORTH -- Six Tarrant County Jail inmates have filed federal lawsuits saying they were brutalized by a jailer who is now the focus of a criminal investigation by the Sheriff's Department.
Deputy Joseph Thornhill, who had been with the department since January 2007, resigned abruptly April 26, not long after sheriff's officials say they began investigating the allegations.
The lawsuits, all filed last month, say Thornhill forced inmates housed in 59C, a pod reserved for mental-health and mental-retardation clients, to degrade themselves and other inmates between February and April.
"For many reasons, some inmates in 59C can not fend for themselves," the inmates say in several of the suits. "Officer Thornhill knew these weaknesses and he would prey on their impairments."
The lawsuit says Sheriff Dee Anderson, who is also named as a defendant, allowed the "wanton infliction of pain" on the inmates.
Anderson confirmed Friday that a criminal investigation is under way.
"Whenever the allegations surfaced, we started internal and criminal investigations because obviously some of the allegations were criminal in nature," he said.
He said, however, that he could not discuss the case because of the pending suits.
Thornhill, 29, could not be reached for comment Friday. Federal court documents do not indicate whether he has retained an attorney.
The suits were filed by Christopher William Thomas, David Linn Robertson, Matthew Cotton, Stephen Walker, Randall Harr and Bradley Andrews. All remained in the jail Friday on charges ranging from parole violations to drugs and aggravated assault with a deadly weapon.
The suits say that over three months, Thornhill violated the inmates' civil rights by inflicting "severe emotional, mental and physical pain."
Some of the suits include a letter dated April 26 and signed by 17 inmates detailing abuse that the suits say Thornhill inflicted.
The letter says Thornhill, through intimidation, made inmates do "sexual type acts" to one another, sexually touched inmates and kicked inmates in sexual areas. Some inmates reported being locked in broom closets and ordered to defecate on the floor and in other inmates' sinks. Other inmates say Thornhill struck them with rubber bands, soap packages and glass cleaner and placed items including spray bottles, broom handles and soda bottles into their buttocks.
Thornhill would threaten corporal punishment or discipline if inmates did not comply with his demands or tried to tell other officers about his actions, the letter says. The inmates say the jailer bribed other inmates to keep quiet by giving them extra food and other items.
The inmates say they have done all they can through the jail's inmate grievance system, "and the jail has done nothing to secure our fear of retaliation from Officer Thornhill, Sheriff Dee Anderson or any other officer."
The inmates, who sued on their own behalf, ask that the federal court facilitate sanctions and provide monetary relief for their suffering and injury.
Deanna Boyd, 817-390-7655
Twitter: @deannaboyd
Read more here: http://www.star-telegram.com/2012/07/06/4083820/tarrant-county-jailer-brutalized.html#storylink=cpy
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Voices from Solitary: Exiled In Purgatory
Voices from Solitary: Exiled In Purgatory
by Voices from Solitary
The following is a chronicling of inmate M.O.'s entry into a now 16 years in Oregon's various isolation units. Convicted of murder, he later assaulted a codefendant he claims wrongly pinned the blame on him and testified against M.O. in exchange for a reduced sentence. M.O. spent nine years in Oregon's isolation units before being transferred to Oklahoma and New Mexico, where he has remained in solitary confinement. An earlier piece on his recent struggles with PTSD was published by Solitary Watch. --Sal Rodriguez
Exiled in Purgatory: Six in One Hand a Half Dozen in the Other
As I sat in my Black Box cell it wasn’t hard taking in the surroundings. There is a solid cement bunk. A ceramic sink that is encased in cement. A ceramic toilet encased in cement. The light is a bulb set into the wall with an opaque cover, which is in turn covered by a grill. It gives the cell a dark dim look. If you had a book you would hardly be able to read it. But you don’t. In the Black Box it is you and the voice in your head.
The first door is bars. Just a regular old cell front; but it extends another three feet to a second door. Solid, thick and sound proof. The guards shut it 24-7. They are supposed to do checks every 15 minutes but they don’t. You have no way to signal for help. No emergency call buttons. You’ll only see a guard when they open that door to give you a food tray. That’s when they’ll know if some ones dead, cut up or has some emergency.
I pace around my cell thinking about the assault on Dave. I don’t feel satisfied. A deep hate grows in me. A deep resentment. That feeling would continue to grow over the years, but the mustard seed of the incident with D is a root of it all. The Black Box becomes a comforting friend where I can talk to myself, reassure myself I did the right thing. Hate becomes an easy emotion. It can give you an energy, an outlet, a comfort. It is a blanket that wraps you warm in isolation.
By age 14 I was diagnosed with ADHD and Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I was put in an inpatient Drug and Alcohol facility. By the time I had entered the military at 17 I had been in in-patient treatment centers twice and out-patient several times. One psychiatrist diagnosed me with “organic brain damage” before my murder trial. A term to this day I am not sure what it is. Nobody knew, or possibly didn’t care, that a person with a mental health background like mine could get worse by isolation. That is, in fact, what eventually did happen (but that’s my story to come).
After pacing back and forth in my cell (three steps forward, turn around, three steps back, turn around, repeat) I grew tired and thought of my girlfriend (who had just had my daughter only a few months before). I lay on my bunk and think about the last time I held her, made love to her. As the years went on even those memories fade and isolation holds only memories of other days of isolation.
I lay down to sleep. No sooner am I asleep than staff wake me up and tell me to “cuff up” I’m going out on an “emergency transport.” They hustle me to the intake area to put shackles on for the transport. As they are putting the shackles on the officer tells me if I “fucking move wrong” he’ll smash my head. He then brags to the other officers how the warden has got him off three prior excessive force allegations and is sure he’ll be beat the next one too.
As they walk me out to the van I am told I’m being transported to the Oregon State Penitentiary (OSP) with other “assholes.” OSCI wasn’t used to weapon assaults. Just gladiator fights. OSP didn’t care. The guards talk back and fourth. The excessive force bragger tells the other that next week he’s going to OSP’s hobby shop to have one of “the pieces of shit” make him a belt. The “pieces of shit” are the prisoners working in the hobby shop making leather goods. I know quickly guards see me as less than shit. My hate grows. I hate this guy’s voice, I hate the way he walks. I just hate. I picture smashing him in the face and smile to myself. Maybe even cut him up like D. Hate makes me smile.
The transport from OSCI to OSP is short. Just a few minutes across town. It’s late, after midnight. When we arrive at OP the guards there tell me they don’t have a cell open in Disciplinary Segregation right now so they had to put me in Special Management Unit (SMU) over the weekend. SMU is the isolation unit for the mentally ill. It is a fresh new Hell.
My experiences in SMU would fuel my hate, fertilize my contempt, and cut the last thread of sympathy I had.
Exiled in Purgatory: The Psych Ward
Within 24 hours of assaulting my codefendant I had gone from the Black Box Disciplinary isolation cell at OSCI to an after midnight transfer to the Psych Ward, better known as the Special Management Unit (SMU) at the Oregon State Penitentiary. The SMU was called Smoo (a pronunciation of the letters). If you were crazy you went to Smoo. I wasn’t in the unit for mental health needs but because OSP Disciplinary Segregation Unit (DSU) was full and didn’t have a cell available. As “overflow” I went to SMU.
You learn in prison that there is always a shortage of beds. In fact, it is one of the primary excuses prison administrators put forward in building new isolation units and ‘supermax’ facilities – the existing ones are full and they need more space for the new “hard core” felons who just can’t learn to behave…or so they argue. Isolation and the overall poor prison conditions are, in my opinion, the largest contributing factor in negative prisoner behavior.
In Smoo, it is a new kind of Hell. The cell is approximately 6½ feet long and 4½ feet wide. There is no place to walk or pace. You either stand at the door or window at the back of the cell or lay on your bunk. The toilet and sink are so close to the bed there are only inches from the bed. It is encased in cement. The prison loves encasing everything in cement. It is not sealed with a cement sealant. Lacking a sealant the cement has soaked up years of urine, feces, spit, puke, and whatever else finds its way to the cement thrown. The prison, every few years, paints the cement. It’s never cleaned, just painted over. Every time you squat over it you fear if your ass touches down it may not come back off.
I wasn’t given any blankets or pillow. Just two sheets and a mattress. The room has an old ancient heater. The window is covered with a thick metal screen which is open. Despite being mid-December and the window being open, I’m warm. For that I am grateful. I have no books or magazines, no other property, no hygiene (no toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, etc.) It’s me, my two sheets, and time. I’m doing life, all I have is time.
I go back to my bunk and lift the mattress to put a sheet on it and it peels away like Velcro. The metal bunk is a “full restraint” bed used to restrain psychotic and suicidal prisoners. Usually they are left there for hours or days to urinate and defecate themselves. The bunk reeks of urine and looks as if the “yellow blob” is growing across it. I ask for cleaning supplies but in response the officer puts a piece of cardboard over my window – something I’d learn is routine when they don’t want to be bothered with things like sanitation or prisoner complaints. The cardboard would come off and on over the days following.
I lost track of time. I don’t know how long I was in that cell. No other prisoners were near me, empty cells on both sides. Across the hall was a female. I could hear her voice. Back then they brought the psychotic females to the Special Management Unit. She was yelling and screaming a lot talking incoherently at times. Sometimes a guard would talk to her, sometimes they just put cardboard over the window.
On one day she begins banging her head on the door. The cops rush her cell, strip her of all her clothing and four point strap her to the bed. One guard is on duty to watch her. Usually he sits in the office out of sight. This time he goes to her cell after all the other guards leave. I hear her talking in sexual tones, not to the guard but to “God,” she’s not praying, but telling God they want to fuck her in the ass. That they’re sinful. I look out my window and the guard has his hand in his pocket clearly masturbating.
I yell, “You sick fuck!” It scares him. He marches over to my door and without a word puts up the cardboard over my window. I go back to bed.
I’ve been isolated for days or weeks. You loose track of time in isolation. Some day’s fly by, others drag with no end. With no books I live in my mind. You loose track of time but in your mind reality blurs. I think of suicide. I have no voice. No one to hear my pain…
Exiled in Purgatory: The Walls
The walls. That is what they call the Oregon State Penitentiary (OSP). In less than 30 days I had gone from the assault on my codefendant, to the OSCI hole’s “Black Box,” to the OSP’s psych ward, to OSP’s hole. It was the beginning of a journey in isolation that would last for the next two decades.
I was in OSP’s old Disciplinary Segregation Unit (DSU). The walls, back then, was where hard cases were. This was my first time incarcerated. And I’d get “schooled” by the older cons, not the gladiators in the “kid camps.”
In the OSP hole there was both single and double cells. I was initially put in a double cell and given a cellie. During that time I met C, a guy only a few years older than me who had been down several ears and in the Intensive Management Unit (IMU), Oregon’s “supermax”. He would prepare me by explaining what to expect and how to cope with isolation.
Shortly after I got there C’s hole time was up and he went to general population. My next cellie wouldn’t prove to be so friendly and I grew tired of him within days which grew into open hostility. It was with him I learned how much fear a person can have if they believe they’ll be stabbed. I had a newly minted reputation of being a lifer with the willingness to hurt someone. That can have a lot of power in prison.
I didn’t know it then, but that reputation was a single brink in developing an “institutional personality”. In prison people often adopt and develop personalties, beliefs, and morals, such as the so-called “convict code,” that they never had prior to prison as a way to survive the hostile prison environment. More often than not prison administrators promote these attitudes. Being young and never having been incarcerated I was especially vulnerable to adopting institutional personality characteristics.
My new cellie constantly complained about paroling in three months and how his girlfriend is probably cheating on him. All the usual “short-timer” gripes. Serving a life sentence for a crime my codefendant committed, I wasn’t trying to hear some guy whine about a lousy three months in prison. I told him he had to get out of the cell or I’d end up stabbing him and he wouldn’t have to worry about parole.
In situations like this a prisoner would usually throw their tray on the tier and the cops would usually make them move to a single cell isolation cell for a disciplinary violation. Obviously throwing a tray is something the cops don’t like. The following morning after breakfast he takes his tray, throws it on the tier, and then crawls back into bed. When the cop comes by he tells me to pick the tray up and kicks it to my door. I tell him it’s not my tray so I’m not going to pick it up. He picks it up and moves on.
I berate my cellie as a coward, tell him he better stay up and claim the tray and get out. He assures me he will. Lunch comes, he throws the tray, and the cop, again, orders me to pick it up. When I refuse and tell him it’s not my tray he leaves. When he returns there are four guards with him. He asks what the problem is. My cellie tells him that it’s his tray. They order us both to back up and be handcuffed. We complied. At that point I’m thinking my cellie will be taken out. It never works out that way.
Rather than move my cellie they move me. The officer points at me and tells them to take me to the “Black Box”. One more time I find myself in the isolation of isolation. This time, however, it would last much longer than a few hours, and I’d be introduced to a New Hell called “Nutra Loaf.” But there are more vivid Hells ahead…
http://solitarywatch.com/author/voicesfromsolitary/
by Voices from Solitary
The following is a chronicling of inmate M.O.'s entry into a now 16 years in Oregon's various isolation units. Convicted of murder, he later assaulted a codefendant he claims wrongly pinned the blame on him and testified against M.O. in exchange for a reduced sentence. M.O. spent nine years in Oregon's isolation units before being transferred to Oklahoma and New Mexico, where he has remained in solitary confinement. An earlier piece on his recent struggles with PTSD was published by Solitary Watch. --Sal Rodriguez
Exiled in Purgatory: Six in One Hand a Half Dozen in the Other
As I sat in my Black Box cell it wasn’t hard taking in the surroundings. There is a solid cement bunk. A ceramic sink that is encased in cement. A ceramic toilet encased in cement. The light is a bulb set into the wall with an opaque cover, which is in turn covered by a grill. It gives the cell a dark dim look. If you had a book you would hardly be able to read it. But you don’t. In the Black Box it is you and the voice in your head.
The first door is bars. Just a regular old cell front; but it extends another three feet to a second door. Solid, thick and sound proof. The guards shut it 24-7. They are supposed to do checks every 15 minutes but they don’t. You have no way to signal for help. No emergency call buttons. You’ll only see a guard when they open that door to give you a food tray. That’s when they’ll know if some ones dead, cut up or has some emergency.
I pace around my cell thinking about the assault on Dave. I don’t feel satisfied. A deep hate grows in me. A deep resentment. That feeling would continue to grow over the years, but the mustard seed of the incident with D is a root of it all. The Black Box becomes a comforting friend where I can talk to myself, reassure myself I did the right thing. Hate becomes an easy emotion. It can give you an energy, an outlet, a comfort. It is a blanket that wraps you warm in isolation.
By age 14 I was diagnosed with ADHD and Post-traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). I was put in an inpatient Drug and Alcohol facility. By the time I had entered the military at 17 I had been in in-patient treatment centers twice and out-patient several times. One psychiatrist diagnosed me with “organic brain damage” before my murder trial. A term to this day I am not sure what it is. Nobody knew, or possibly didn’t care, that a person with a mental health background like mine could get worse by isolation. That is, in fact, what eventually did happen (but that’s my story to come).
After pacing back and forth in my cell (three steps forward, turn around, three steps back, turn around, repeat) I grew tired and thought of my girlfriend (who had just had my daughter only a few months before). I lay on my bunk and think about the last time I held her, made love to her. As the years went on even those memories fade and isolation holds only memories of other days of isolation.
I lay down to sleep. No sooner am I asleep than staff wake me up and tell me to “cuff up” I’m going out on an “emergency transport.” They hustle me to the intake area to put shackles on for the transport. As they are putting the shackles on the officer tells me if I “fucking move wrong” he’ll smash my head. He then brags to the other officers how the warden has got him off three prior excessive force allegations and is sure he’ll be beat the next one too.
As they walk me out to the van I am told I’m being transported to the Oregon State Penitentiary (OSP) with other “assholes.” OSCI wasn’t used to weapon assaults. Just gladiator fights. OSP didn’t care. The guards talk back and fourth. The excessive force bragger tells the other that next week he’s going to OSP’s hobby shop to have one of “the pieces of shit” make him a belt. The “pieces of shit” are the prisoners working in the hobby shop making leather goods. I know quickly guards see me as less than shit. My hate grows. I hate this guy’s voice, I hate the way he walks. I just hate. I picture smashing him in the face and smile to myself. Maybe even cut him up like D. Hate makes me smile.
The transport from OSCI to OSP is short. Just a few minutes across town. It’s late, after midnight. When we arrive at OP the guards there tell me they don’t have a cell open in Disciplinary Segregation right now so they had to put me in Special Management Unit (SMU) over the weekend. SMU is the isolation unit for the mentally ill. It is a fresh new Hell.
My experiences in SMU would fuel my hate, fertilize my contempt, and cut the last thread of sympathy I had.
Exiled in Purgatory: The Psych Ward
Within 24 hours of assaulting my codefendant I had gone from the Black Box Disciplinary isolation cell at OSCI to an after midnight transfer to the Psych Ward, better known as the Special Management Unit (SMU) at the Oregon State Penitentiary. The SMU was called Smoo (a pronunciation of the letters). If you were crazy you went to Smoo. I wasn’t in the unit for mental health needs but because OSP Disciplinary Segregation Unit (DSU) was full and didn’t have a cell available. As “overflow” I went to SMU.
You learn in prison that there is always a shortage of beds. In fact, it is one of the primary excuses prison administrators put forward in building new isolation units and ‘supermax’ facilities – the existing ones are full and they need more space for the new “hard core” felons who just can’t learn to behave…or so they argue. Isolation and the overall poor prison conditions are, in my opinion, the largest contributing factor in negative prisoner behavior.
In Smoo, it is a new kind of Hell. The cell is approximately 6½ feet long and 4½ feet wide. There is no place to walk or pace. You either stand at the door or window at the back of the cell or lay on your bunk. The toilet and sink are so close to the bed there are only inches from the bed. It is encased in cement. The prison loves encasing everything in cement. It is not sealed with a cement sealant. Lacking a sealant the cement has soaked up years of urine, feces, spit, puke, and whatever else finds its way to the cement thrown. The prison, every few years, paints the cement. It’s never cleaned, just painted over. Every time you squat over it you fear if your ass touches down it may not come back off.
I wasn’t given any blankets or pillow. Just two sheets and a mattress. The room has an old ancient heater. The window is covered with a thick metal screen which is open. Despite being mid-December and the window being open, I’m warm. For that I am grateful. I have no books or magazines, no other property, no hygiene (no toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, etc.) It’s me, my two sheets, and time. I’m doing life, all I have is time.
I go back to my bunk and lift the mattress to put a sheet on it and it peels away like Velcro. The metal bunk is a “full restraint” bed used to restrain psychotic and suicidal prisoners. Usually they are left there for hours or days to urinate and defecate themselves. The bunk reeks of urine and looks as if the “yellow blob” is growing across it. I ask for cleaning supplies but in response the officer puts a piece of cardboard over my window – something I’d learn is routine when they don’t want to be bothered with things like sanitation or prisoner complaints. The cardboard would come off and on over the days following.
I lost track of time. I don’t know how long I was in that cell. No other prisoners were near me, empty cells on both sides. Across the hall was a female. I could hear her voice. Back then they brought the psychotic females to the Special Management Unit. She was yelling and screaming a lot talking incoherently at times. Sometimes a guard would talk to her, sometimes they just put cardboard over the window.
On one day she begins banging her head on the door. The cops rush her cell, strip her of all her clothing and four point strap her to the bed. One guard is on duty to watch her. Usually he sits in the office out of sight. This time he goes to her cell after all the other guards leave. I hear her talking in sexual tones, not to the guard but to “God,” she’s not praying, but telling God they want to fuck her in the ass. That they’re sinful. I look out my window and the guard has his hand in his pocket clearly masturbating.
I yell, “You sick fuck!” It scares him. He marches over to my door and without a word puts up the cardboard over my window. I go back to bed.
I’ve been isolated for days or weeks. You loose track of time in isolation. Some day’s fly by, others drag with no end. With no books I live in my mind. You loose track of time but in your mind reality blurs. I think of suicide. I have no voice. No one to hear my pain…
Exiled in Purgatory: The Walls
The walls. That is what they call the Oregon State Penitentiary (OSP). In less than 30 days I had gone from the assault on my codefendant, to the OSCI hole’s “Black Box,” to the OSP’s psych ward, to OSP’s hole. It was the beginning of a journey in isolation that would last for the next two decades.
I was in OSP’s old Disciplinary Segregation Unit (DSU). The walls, back then, was where hard cases were. This was my first time incarcerated. And I’d get “schooled” by the older cons, not the gladiators in the “kid camps.”
In the OSP hole there was both single and double cells. I was initially put in a double cell and given a cellie. During that time I met C, a guy only a few years older than me who had been down several ears and in the Intensive Management Unit (IMU), Oregon’s “supermax”. He would prepare me by explaining what to expect and how to cope with isolation.
Shortly after I got there C’s hole time was up and he went to general population. My next cellie wouldn’t prove to be so friendly and I grew tired of him within days which grew into open hostility. It was with him I learned how much fear a person can have if they believe they’ll be stabbed. I had a newly minted reputation of being a lifer with the willingness to hurt someone. That can have a lot of power in prison.
I didn’t know it then, but that reputation was a single brink in developing an “institutional personality”. In prison people often adopt and develop personalties, beliefs, and morals, such as the so-called “convict code,” that they never had prior to prison as a way to survive the hostile prison environment. More often than not prison administrators promote these attitudes. Being young and never having been incarcerated I was especially vulnerable to adopting institutional personality characteristics.
My new cellie constantly complained about paroling in three months and how his girlfriend is probably cheating on him. All the usual “short-timer” gripes. Serving a life sentence for a crime my codefendant committed, I wasn’t trying to hear some guy whine about a lousy three months in prison. I told him he had to get out of the cell or I’d end up stabbing him and he wouldn’t have to worry about parole.
In situations like this a prisoner would usually throw their tray on the tier and the cops would usually make them move to a single cell isolation cell for a disciplinary violation. Obviously throwing a tray is something the cops don’t like. The following morning after breakfast he takes his tray, throws it on the tier, and then crawls back into bed. When the cop comes by he tells me to pick the tray up and kicks it to my door. I tell him it’s not my tray so I’m not going to pick it up. He picks it up and moves on.
I berate my cellie as a coward, tell him he better stay up and claim the tray and get out. He assures me he will. Lunch comes, he throws the tray, and the cop, again, orders me to pick it up. When I refuse and tell him it’s not my tray he leaves. When he returns there are four guards with him. He asks what the problem is. My cellie tells him that it’s his tray. They order us both to back up and be handcuffed. We complied. At that point I’m thinking my cellie will be taken out. It never works out that way.
Rather than move my cellie they move me. The officer points at me and tells them to take me to the “Black Box”. One more time I find myself in the isolation of isolation. This time, however, it would last much longer than a few hours, and I’d be introduced to a New Hell called “Nutra Loaf.” But there are more vivid Hells ahead…
http://solitarywatch.com/author/voicesfromsolitary/
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