This is my friend, Davon.

This is a recent letter from my friend, Davon Acklin. He doesn't mention the campaign going on for him out here, but I know he's worried about the other guys there who are sicker than him; as Julie said at one point, this is about them, too.

We need to push on the clemency process so people don't have to die in prison who weren't sentenced to do so. We need more transparency and public dialogue about the treatment of hepatitis C in both the community and our human warehouses (prisons, schools, shelters, hospitals...). We need to make sure that health care is adequate in the prisons. And we need to bring home the sick and dying.




Anyway, this is the good soul I know Davon to be, describing the daily challenges of getting by in prison, worrying about how I was doing in the wake of a recent assault, and talking about having to always look tough in there to keep himself safe. He talks about his sister growing up, and what a terror he was at her age, and how he needs to be a good influence on his little sister, who looks up to him.

Here's a picture of Davon looking tough in his prison orange. He does a good job of it when he has to, but he's a real sweetie. That's why I'm posting this letter, which you can barely make out but you should get the gist of - he was worried about how I'd been getting along, and really touched that I brought his dad, Greg, down for a visit. He can't wait to see his sister and Mom, Not a mention of being sick; I think in a way he's a little uncomfortable with all this attention.

Despite his discomfort with being a poster child for prisoners with Hep C, Davon gave us his blessings to use our own discretion in all this organizing and activism around him because he thinks that by advocating for him his mom will end up helping the other guys he sees there. That's precisely what she's hoping to do.

Given the stigma associated with infectious diseases like HIV and Hepatitis (not to mention a psychiatric disability and a record as a violent criminal) I think that's a pretty courageous position for a young prisoner to take. Davon will be forever Googled back to these pages, with his mom and her friends laying out this crisis in his life for the world to see and judge - something he's willing to risk if doing so will help others.

Now, does that sound like a dangerous criminal? We call that 'lifting as we climb'. That's how we make sure we don't leave anyone behind in this revolution...

The ADC can cause Davon all sorts of grief if they want to, of course, but I don't think they'll stoop to that - it isn't necessary or productive, and it'll just set Julie off on them again. She's trying to focus on building membership in his facebook cause and getting his petition signed for the AZ Board of Executive Clemency right now, and if she's successful then she'll be out of the ADC's hair soon enough. It would be in their best interests to make every effort to help her succeed, not get in her way.

So, hit those links up there for us, and join and sign and spread the word. It's important to show that Davon has a community to come home to that will embrace him and help him keep both his liberty and his sanity. That community is global, now - Davon has friends he hasn't met yet as far away as the Netherlands. His community of correspondents are especially important for the Clemency Board to get personal letters from (in addition to signing the petition), no matter where you may be in the world.

Please help us free Davon.

Thanks for your time.

- Peggy Plews

Davon Acklin's life and Adam Montoya's ghost.

For those who still think that prisoners get great medical care, think again. This is not an unusual story...sounds like Marcia Powell's.

If you wish you could have helped this guy - or Marcia Powell, for that matter - and want to know how to make a difference here: please take a minute and help someone still living. Free Davon Acklin. That will take you straight to the petition his mom has going supporting her request that he be pardoned by Governor Brewer so she can bring him home for medical care.

He's only 23, and he has hep C and needs a liver biopsy. He's not getting treatment at the ADC, either, so your time and good name for the cause would be appreciated.

------------------from Salon.com-----------------------

Ill. inmate died in agony while pleading for help

By DAVID MERCER, Associated Press
June 27, 2010

For days before he died in a federal prison, Adam Montoya pleaded with guards to be taken to a doctor, pressing a panic button in his cell over and over to summon help that never came.

An autopsy concluded that the 36-year-old inmate suffered from no fewer than three serious illnesses -- cancer, hepatitis and HIV. The cancer ultimately killed him, causing his spleen to burst. Montoya bled to death internally.

But the coroner and a pathologist were more stunned by another finding: The only medication in his system was a trace of over-the-counter pain reliever.

That means Montoya, imprisoned for a passing counterfeit checks, had been given nothing to ease the excruciating pain that no doubt wracked his body for days or weeks before death.

"He shouldn't have died in agony like that," Coroner Dennis Conover said. "He had been out there long enough that he should have at least died in the hospital."

The FBI recently completed an investigation into Montoya's death and gave its findings to the Justice Department, which is reviewing the case. If federal prosecutors conclude that Montoya's civil rights were violated, they could take action against the prison, its guards, or both. A Justice Department spokesman declined to comment, saying that the matter was still being investigated.

The coroner said guards should have been aware that something was seriously wrong with the inmate. And outside experts agree that the symptoms of cancer and hepatitis would have been hard to miss: dramatic weight loss, a swollen abdomen, yellow eyes.

During Montoya's final days, he "consistently made requests to the prison for medical attention, and they wouldn't give it to him," said his father, Juan Montoya, who described how his son repeatedly punched the panic button. Three inmates corroborated that account in interviews with The Associated Press.

The younger Montoya was taken to the prison clinic one day for "maybe five, 10 minutes," his father said. "And they gave him Tylenol, and that was it. He suffered a lot."

The federal prison in Pekin will not discuss Montoya's death. Prison spokesman Jay Henderson referred questions to the Bureau of Prisons, which denied an AP request for information on Montoya's medical condition, citing privacy laws.

It isn't clear whether the prison system, relatives or even Montoya himself knew the full extent of his illness. Montoya's father had no idea his son had cancer or hepatitis. Inmates who knew him said he told them he had cancer, but they knew nothing of his HIV.

According to its website, the Bureau of Prisons tries to screen the health of new inmates within 24 hours of their arrival. A closer examination within two weeks is required for prisoners with serious, long-term illnesses. But officials have not said whether Montoya was given any kind of exam or whether his medical records made it to Pekin.

Montoya pleaded guilty in May 2009 to counterfeiting commercial checks, credit cards and gift cards. Prosecutors will not say how much money was involved in the scheme, but Montoya was ordered to pay a little over $2,000 in restitution.

Montoya, who had a history of methamphetamine abuse, was released while awaiting sentencing and was ordered not to use drugs. At the time, he was living with his father and working for his father's process-serving business, which delivers legal documents. His father said he was paying Montoya's bills and paying him about $300 a week.

Then in mid-June, Adam Montoya was diagnosed with HIV.

"It hit him like a ton of bricks," his father said.

After the diagnosis, Montoya retreated back into methamphetamine. Following a urine test, he admitted using the drug three times in a month, and he was locked up.

Montoya began taking antiviral drugs, so his father still had hope and tried to give his son a sense of the same. "I thought, 'You'll get out. You'll get your probation, and you'll have years of life," the elder Montoya said.

In mid-October, Montoya was sentenced to two years and three months in prison. When he arrived at a federal prison transfer center in Oklahoma City, his medication was waiting for him. His father took that to mean that the prison system knew Montoya suffered from HIV.

Montoya arrived at the Pekin prison on Oct. 26. He lived just 18 more days. The inmates around him say he spent much of that time pleading for help from his cell.

Prison staff told Montoya he had the flu, according to Randy Rader, an inmate in the next cell who wrote letters to his mother about Montoya and discussed him in an e-mail interview with the AP.

"That man begged these people for nine days locked behind these doors," Rader wrote to his mother on Nov. 14. The letter was first obtained by The Pekin Daily Times, which wrote about Montoya's death earlier this year.

Rader has since been moved to a prison in California -- far from his family in Michigan. He suspects the move was retaliation for speaking out about Montoya.

The last time a staff member visited Montoya, about 10 p.m. on Nov. 12, he reported having trouble breathing and complained that he could no longer feel his fingers, Rader said in the e-mail interview. The staff member told Montoya that he would try to get help the next day.

Around 6:30 a.m., prison officials found Montoya's body in his cell.

The autopsy showed that Montoya's spleen was almost 10 times the normal weight because it had been engulfed by a cancerous tumor, which was on its way to doing the same with his liver.

The pathologist who examined Montoya's body said his eyes were also yellow -- an unmistakable sign of hepatitis. Dr. John Ralston is reluctant to speculate whether treatment could have saved Montoya's life by the time he reached Pekin. The doctor suspects he would have needed a liver transplant to have a chance.

That said, "You would think that he would have been feeling bad enough and complaining enough that somebody should have tried to get to the bottom of this," Ralston said.

The AP sought opinions about Montoya's condition from other doctors who did not examine him but were familiar with his diseases. They agreed he probably displayed obvious signs of distress.

Montoya would have had a swollen abdomen because of his spleen. At the same time, he probably was losing weight rapidly because the large tumor would have left little room in his belly for food, according to Dr. Krishna Rao, an assistant professor of oncology at Southern Illinois University Medical School in Springfield.

Someone in Montoya's condition should have been taking heavy doses of chemotherapy for his cancer or receiving stem cell transplants, if he were healthy enough, said Dr. James Egner, an oncologist with the Carle Foundation Hospital in Champaign.

If the cancer was too advanced, Montoya should have at least been treated for pain with powerful drugs, possibly in a hospice, Egner said.

The president of the American Civil Liberties Union's National Prison Project said it isn't uncommon for medical records not to arrive with a federal inmate.

"Sometimes it arrives late, and sometimes it doesn't happen at all," said David Fathi, who has spent 15 years studying prison conditions. "That's why it's so critical that the new facilities do a medical screening" of new inmates.

Fahti said Montoya's death "is really an egregious failure, of the kind that you wouldn't expect from even a small county jail, let alone the largest prison system in the United States."

After his son's death, Juan Montoya wrote to the prison complaining about its medical care. Warden Richard Rios wrote back to defend his institution.

"I must respectfully disagree with your characterization of the medical care Adam received and want to assure you that we carefully monitored you son's medical condition," wrote Rios, who was not hired for the job until months after the death. He did not elaborate, writing that privacy laws limited what he could say.

The elder Montoya is now waiting for his son's medical records, but he doubts they will offer many clues. The family has hired lawyers but has not decided whether to file a lawsuit.

Montoya thinks a lot now about the assurances he offered his son as he headed for prison.

"Your time will go by fast, and you'll get out, and we'll get you a job and be part of the family," Montoya recalls telling his son. "It never happened."

Freeing Davon Acklin: How to Help

Here's the official campaign strategy, folks. It should take 10-20 minutes of your time, tops.

------------------reprinted from hopeworkscommunity------------------------

On Helping Davon Acklin

Many of you read the original post on Davon Acklin. If you would like to help him there are several things you can do.

1. Let as many people know about his case if possible. If you are from Arizona or know people in Arizona in particular let them know.
2. Contact the governor directly and ask that he be considered for compassionate release. There is no reason or nothing to be gained by him staying in prison. In your contact explain the facts as you know them. Her phone number is 1-(800) 253-0883. It will only take a couple of minutes. Also email the governors office. The website is http://azgovernor.gov/. Just follow directions on the site to make the email. And then and this is so important- do it again next week. And again the week after that. Persistence pays. It will only take a few minutes.
3. Contact at least 5 other people about Davon. Tell them about the case. Tell them what you are doing to help and ask them to do the same thing. Ask each of them to also contact 5 other people and ask each of those 5 to do the same thing. If we do this and carry through soon the Governors office will be receiving thousands of contacts asking for Davon’s release. It makes a difference.
4. If you live in Arizona write a letter to the editor of your paper about Davon. If you are outside the state write one to a paper in one of the major cities like Tuscon.
5. The contact information on Davon is in the previous post (see below). Contact him directly and let him know you care. This might be the most important thing.
6. There is a cause on Facebook called Free Davon Acklin (http://www.causes.com/causes/498647?). If you are on Facebook please join. Be part of a unified and committed effort to help Davon.

Please act now. What you do as an individual makes a difference.

TX to AZ: The Politics of Compassion.

Kudos to this reporter for caring about this story. We have some compassionate release hang-ups in Arizona that need some journalistic help, too...maybe there's even a student out there who would want to make it an investigative journalism or research project? Let us know. Time is running out for Davon and his fellow prisoners; even he suggests that there are men far more ill than him who need to be going home before they die. Terminal illness was not included in their sentencing; perhaps sentencing judges should be reviewing such things when people apply for compassionate release.

So, keep hounding the governor - we need to let these folks find decent treatment in order to survive their sentences, or release them so they can die at home. Let her know that more than just a few of us care about this - she doesn't strike me much as the "compassionate" type, after all this with SB 1070.

But if she's really into helping the people of Arizona, then this is one small way she can make a huge difference in the lives of folks who have otherwise been disposed of and forgotten by all but their families - if they even still have connections with them, then the suffering generated by denying medical releases to terminally or chronically, severely ill prisoners is exponentially magnified. Everyone, including the state and our communities, hurts from our inability to embrace our own humanity, and find within ourselves the qualities of Mercy and Grace.

And the effects of the ease with which we detach from the pain of our fellow beings trickle down to the next generation...it is not a kind thing to bestow on them, or much of a gift to leave the world: a callous heart.

And it's all politics. Challenge Brewer to have the courage to step up to this issue and do it right. Word is that too many people since Janet have been approved by the Board of Executive Clemency only to die while sitting on the Governor's desk. Is this governor any less a coward than Napolitano was? I hope so.

- Peg

----------------------

Few Texas Inmates Get Released on Medical Parole
by Emily Ramshaw
Texas Tribune
June 3, 2010

A gaunt old man, thick with whiskers and stricken with dementia, writhes under the covers of his bed. Down the hall, doctors monitor elderly diabetics with recently amputated limbs, medicate terminal cancer patients shuffling by with walkers and tether shivering dialysis patients to blood-cleaning machines.

Despite the pacing guards, the handcuffs and the bars on the windows, the geriatric and medical wing at the Estelle Unit in Huntsville looks more like a nursing home than a maximum-security prison.

Prison doctors routinely offer up the oldest and sickest of these inmates for medical parole, a way to get those who are too incapacitated to be a public threat and have just months to live out of medical beds that Texas’ quickly aging prison population needs. They’ve recommended parole for 4,000 such inmates within the last decade. But the state parole board, which makes the final decision on “medically recommended intensive supervision,” has only agreed in a quarter of these cases, leaving the others to die in prison — and on the state’s dime.

Texas’ “geriatric” inmates, classified as those 55 and older, make up just 7.3 percent of Texas’ 160,000-offender prison population. But they account for nearly a third of the system’s hospital costs and make three times as many visits to prison medical departments as younger inmates. Elderly inmates have average annual hospitalization costs of $4,700, compared to $765 for inmates under 55. In total, providing inmate medical care costs the state correctional health care system — already facing hundreds of employee layoffs amid a budget shortfall — nearly half a billion dollars a year.

Parole board members say they’re faced with the difficult task of determining whether an inmate is still dangerous and must err on the side of public safety. “You can be sick, have an illness or a disease, and still be a threat,” said board chair Rissie Owens. “Our decisions aren’t based on numbers, on quotas. And we feel like we’re making good decisions.”

But criminal justice and prison funding experts say leaving elderly, terminally ill inmates to waste away behind bars is often unnecessary and exorbitantly expensive. Those costs would be shared with the federal government if the offenders weren’t in state custody.

“These are totally incapacitated inmates, terminally ill inmates, inmates on respirators, who are not paroled at a huge expense to the state and hardship to the inmate’s family because of the nature of a crime they may have committed 20 or 30 years ago,” said Sen. John Whitmire, D-Houston, who chairs the state Senate’s Criminal Justice Committee. “I think it’s largely for political reasons.”

The cost of care

While the total prison population in Texas isn’t growing, it’s quickly aging. The ranks of geriatric inmates are rising by about 6 percent every year, frightening the budget writers who have to figure out how to pay for them. Health care costs are rising too: The average daily medical bill for Texas inmates grows about 4 percent every year — which is low, compared to some states.

The sickest inmates can each cost the state up to $1 million a year in health care costs. If these same inmates were living in nursing homes or hospice facilities, the federal government — through Medicaid — would pay two-thirds of the cost and save Texas taxpayers up to $50 million a year, according to state projections. If the offenders are eligible for Medicare, the feds would pick up the full tab. “We could be transitioning them to some other facility where state taxpayers wouldn’t have to bear the full health care cost,” said Marc Levin, the director of the Texas Public Policy Foundation’s Center For Effective Justice Director, who suggested special nursing homes or hospice centers monitored by parole officers. “It’s a real opportunity to identify some savings without doing anything to endanger public safety.”

But despite the fact that the national one-year recidivism rate for older offenders is miniscule compared to that of younger offenders — 3.2 percent for inmates over 55, compared to 45 percent for inmates between 18 and 29 — an April report by the VERA Institute of Justice, a nonprofit criminal justice policy group, found that the 15 states that allow medical release rarely use it. What stands in the way? Political repercussions, complicated review processes and limited eligibility, the researchers found.

Getting Texas inmates released on medical parole is no easy task. To be eligible for it, an offender can’t be on death row or be serving life without parole, and must be either terminally ill (six months or less to live) or require intensive long-term care, said Dee Wilson, director of the Texas Correctional Office on Offenders with Medical or Mental Impairments. Sex offenders must effectively be in a vegetative state for consideration.

If inmates qualify, the office, in conjunction with the Correctional Managed Health Care Committee, recommends them for medical parole, then submits them to the seven-member Board of Pardons and Paroles for a decision. “It’s all about how long you have to live, and what your prognosis is,” Wilson said. “You can have a terminal illness but still be fully functioning.”

Dying behind bars

The parole board, in turn, relies on a pre-existing condition threshold of sorts. If an inmate with a particular illness commits a crime, Owens said, it’s unlikely he or she will get medical release for that same diagnosis. Some inmates with multiple amputated limbs may look incapacitated, Owens said, but managed to commit their crimes that way. Of the roughly 4,000 inmates prison health officials recommended for medical release in the last decade, the parole board turned down nearly 3,000.

In the last fiscal year alone, more than 440 Texas inmates died in prison. Thirty-one inmates who’d been recommended by medical staff for release died while awaiting the parole board to take up their case; another 26 died after the parole board rejected them for release. Twelve inmates were approved for medical parole but died before they could be sent home.

“There are documented cases where individuals had days or weeks left to live” and were rejected for medical parole, Whitmire said. “I saw no reason why they shouldn’t be paroled so the family could make plans for their funeral.”

Texas is not the only state struggling with skyrocketing prison health care costs and concerns around medical release. Between 1999 and 2007, the number of inmates 55 or older in state and federal prisons grew by more than 75 percent, to 76,000. To date, more than a dozen states have units set aside for elderly inmates; eight have dedicated hospice facilities. Estelle has an impressive medical facility, with a bustling emergency room, high-tech telemedicine equipment and a team of nephrologists that perform 1,800 dialysis treatments a month — sometimes on aggressive or unstable inmates.

“From a medical perspective, I’m comforted that [offenders are] getting a level of care they may not be getting on the street. On the other hand, we’re about to un-employ 363 people,” said Dr. Owen Murray, the chief physician for the University of Texas Medical Branch’s correctional managed care program, which oversees health care for the majority of Texas’ prisoners — and is facing layoffs this summer. “Are there other strategies to reduce our costs? And how do we prevent having to build more expensive units in the future?”

Charles Dill, a 71-year-old offender who started a 20-year sentence in 2000, has been hospitalized multiple times himself for costly heart problems, including getting stents for his carotid arteries. He’s befriended several elderly inmates in Estelle’s geriatric unit, only to watch them die on the ward.

“I’ve seen several of these guys drop over dead,” Dill said, gesturing across a prison dorm room of prosthetic limbs and wheelchairs, adult incontinence products and white-haired men in Coke-bottle glasses. “I guess they completed their sentence.”

Free Davon Acklin.

Davon's in a no-win situation: this can't be the way we all intended for things to work out for kids like him - first prison, now Hep C. He's pretty ill, too; Julie's been getting the run-around from some of the folks at the ADC, but she has his medical records now and knows better what she's dealing with. Davon's getting sicker, fast, and there's no more time to mess around with these people.

Anyway, I'm posting the Hopeworks Community write-up on Davon because I'm so close to him that I've been having a hard time blogging about him; this really breaks my heart. But he's easy to write to (here are the ADC mail policies), and he usually draws something awesome on his letters and envelopes for me. So, as the author of this post suggests, drop him a line.

I don't think Julie or Davon would mind me saying that he can always use a few bucks, too, for medical co-pays, stamps, and food/vitamins if you can spare it - the ADC doesn't exactly have healthy menus (they just replaced tomatoes with pickles as an equivalent). Even cancer patients have to worry about paying for their own nutritional supplements in Arizona's prison; "special diets" that actually have any improved nutritional value are considered "special" to prisoners mainly because they're so hard to get. Everything "extra" (like health care) has to be paid for, and if you're poor - as in the "real world" - you're SOL.

Here's Davon's story. Writing a note or sending a postcard to him will be time well-spent. If you send a money order or certified check, make it out to the "Arizona Department of Corrections for Davon Acklin (223880)", then tuck it in the envelope. No need to be extravagant - $10 is a lot of money when you have none. It will be deeply appreciated.

Drop Governor Brewer's office a line in the meantime, too, letting her know you want to see this kid treated or home ASAP. Follow emails up with snail mail on your letterhead. You guys work on her for now; we'll work on the Board of Executive Clemency and the ADC. If we need help with them, as well, we'll let you know.

----------------------from Hopeworks Community------------------

Free Davon Acklin

By hopeworkscommunity

Davon Acklin didn't just fall between the cracks. He lives there.

He is 23 years old and an inmate of the Arizona prison system. Like many people with severe mental illness he found out that a system which offers inadequate or no services at all to people with serious emotional problems leaves many of them in prison and too many of them in a hell which ultimately destroys their chances for recovery and any kind of life worth having.

He may be dying. He has hepatitis C courtesy of the prison environment he lives in. His liver has been affected and without serious medical attention his chances of making it much longer are virtually nil. He has 10 months left to release. His mother has appealed to the authorities to give him compassionate release. She only wants to be with her son and if he must die she doesn't want it to be in a hell hole with people who look upon him as only a number and less than a person. She wants him home. She just wants him home.

He was convicted originally of assault with a deadly weapon. He was psychotic, had stolen a battery. Two security guards ran after him. In a panic he brandished a box cutter at them. His first year was spent in solitary confinement in a Super Max prison. He found out that his punishment for being sick, being scared, and being psychotic was to have a planned, brutal attack on the tattered shreds of his sanity. Imagine what one year in solitary confinement would be for you. Now imagine if you were already emotionally ill.

There is some treatment available in the prison, but the state of Arizona has a protocol to decide who should get it are not. Davon doesn't meet the criteria.

He “committed” a crime, but he is not a criminal. His family was trying to find placement for him before anything happened. His illness struck first.

His mother tells me he has given up. He sees himself as being alone and powerless against a system which seems determined to get its pound of flesh. But you can help.

Take a few minutes out of your day and write him. Let him know you care. Let him know he is not alone. His contact information is ….

Davon Acklin (223880)

ASPC-Tucson/ Manzanita

PO Box 24401

Tuscon, AZ 87345.

It will be the best few minutes you spend tomorrow. Please act.

Please spread the word and tell others. Share this post with as many people as you can. This is a horrible injustice. Mental illness should not be a capital crime. There are many, too many Davon’s. Please stand for him.

In the next couple of days I will have additional posts telling about other concrete things you can do. Please spread the word…. And please, please, please HELP FREE DAVON ACKLIN!!!!!

Called to Care: Hospice of the Valley.

Hey all,

Called to Care is one of the main ministries addressing the needs of people with disabilities that has been supporting the efforts of the Hard Time Alliance, which is organizing Arizona's Hepatitis C + prisoners/ex-prisoners and their families. They had us give a little presentation at their coordinating meeting a month ago (where they had an awesome main speaker), and were on hand for the Candlelight Vigil last month at the ADC. Robert's also been a real support to my friend and comrade, Julie, who's trying to get either treatment for her son in prison or compassionate release so he can get it at home before the disease progresses further.

Anyway, I don't think these folks would mind if a few of us crashed this meeting in order to address concerns about the terminally ill in prison: is there even hospice space available to release dying prisoners to? Do hospice workers go into Arizona's prisons or jails? Does Hospice of the Valley deal at all with the prisons (like training other prisoners to be end-of-life caregivers, for example)? Are they a resource for the families of elderly and terminally ill prisoners?

I'm sure the rest of you can think of more questions to ask. Do just that - ask questions that concern these issues - wherever you go. In fact, if you can, make a point of going to things like this specifically to engage the rest of the community in a relationship with people dying behind bars: we have to do something about the hang-up on compassionate release (word is, there have been none/few signed by the governor since the Baseline Killer - that means Janet let a lot of sick people die in there who the ADC found eligible and the Arizona Board of Executive Clemency recommended for release).

So, if you have a chance to talk with someone from the American Cancer Society or other patient education/support/advocacy groups, please speak to the issues of compassionate release and hospice care for dying prisoners. If they hear it from several sources, maybe they'll jump in and help.

Thanks again, Robert, for your kindness and solidarity.

------------------from Called to Care---------------------

Dear Friends:

This is a reminder for the Called to Care Coordinating Council meeting, Sunday, June 27, 2010, 12 noon, Anthony Lounge, First Congregational United Church of Christ, 1407 N. 2nd Street, Phoenix, potluck, carry-in meal. All are welcome. Sue Bartz, First Church member and Hospice of the valley Patient Insurance Department Coordinator, organized this speaker meeting. She invited Heather Chapple, Community Liaison, Hospice of the Valley, to speak on "The Hospice of the Valley's Senior Placement Service" that helps families find appropriate care for their loved ones at no cost to the family. Check attachment for details. For more information, contact Robert Koth by telephone at: 602-284-4159 or by email at: RobertKoth1@cox.net.

Our speaker, Heather Chapple, is a long-time Valley resident, moving to Arizona from Colorado in 1988, Heather served in the U.S. Navy for four years as an executive assistant at a submarine base in San Diego. She joined Hospice of the Valley in July 2009. She works as a community liaison, giving educational presentations about end-of-life care. Heather graduated from the University of Phoenix in 2008 with a bachelor's degree in education. I hope that you can join us to hear this exceptional speaker.

Blessings,

Robert Koth

The Quality of Mercy: Compassionate Release in America

National Prison Hospice Association

Medical Parole: Politics vs. Compassion

By Nina Quinn

Dostoevsky reminds us that society can be measured by how it treats its prisoners. And part of that measure must surely be the degree of compassion we show toward the dying. Yet compassionate release, or medical parole, is an under-used and too rarely granted option for terminally ill inmates in our U.S. prisons. 




While some form of medical parole legislation is in place in federal and state jurisdictions, it is often overly restrictive, narrowly interpreted, and muddied by political interests. Unfortunately, a lack of political will affects bureaucratic will and ultimately the number of dying released from prison.

Barry Holman of the National Center for Institutions and Alternatives sardonically states, "There is not much of a constituency for criminals in the United States." With overtones of Dostoevsky, he adds, "There is a lack of political and bureaucratic will to see dying in prison as a negative marker for what a prison system should be and society as a whole,"

Jack Beck; who has done a careful study of medical parole in New York State reports that not only are few people getting out, there is a downward trend. Both applications and releases are dropping. In 2000, out of 170 New York state prison deaths – most from medical reasons – 81 applied for compassionate release and only 12 were granted.

In New York, the current administration is against parole generally and this spills over to medical parole. This negative influence in not confined to New York. California and other states are facing the same antagonism and similar low release numbers.

Apart from negative political influence, there are other related obstacles. The eligibility criteria can be overly restrictive eliminating, people who are clearly terminally ill. The process can be convoluted and delayed resulting in many inmates dying in prison before their review is completed. In New York, the 2000 statistics show more than twice as many inmates died during the review process than were granted release.

When these three barriers of politics, criteria and process come together they virtually guarantee a fourth: lack of incentive to initiate applications.

While there can be various factors contributing to this, Beck points to a common theme of frustration and futility. The paper burden on the medical providers can be both excessive and judged a waste of medical time when so few are granted parole. Similarly, many prison staff with compassion for the dying, do not want to raise the inmates hopes and put them through the stress of a long waiting period only to have them die in the process or be refused.

Also, the establishing of Regional Medical Units (RMUs) and hospice programs make for a simpler alternative – transfer the inmate. The RMUs run on a fixed DOC's budget and there is incentive to keep the beds full. Plus it is quicker, less complicated, and does not require the additional work involved in a discharge plan.

Another obstacle Beck articulates is the failure to educate the staff and inmates about the program and the process. This is particularly important in states like New York where correctional staff can initiate but the prime responsibility is placed on the inmate. Beck notes that there are prisons and infirmaries within the state that do not, for whatever reasons; file any applications for their terminally ill inmates.

Other than holding our politicians to a higher standard, what else is required for effective compassionate release policy?

A first requirement is clear legislation that is free from murky political bias, compromise, and overly restrictive criteria. A clearly defined medical prognosis is required. One that includes all terminally ill inmates. It should be clear and factual enough that inmates and their doctors know if they meet the criteria. And it should be fair. 

In New York, where an incapacitation standard is used, some terminally ill are excluded because they can walk-they may die tomorrow but they are excluded because of the legislative restriction on self-ambulation.

Rather than an incapacitation model where the prime emphasis is on risk, Beck makes the case for a terminal illness diagnosis with a one-year life expectancy. Studies show that when a six months diagnosis is used, the median length of stay in hospice is roughly 30 days. One year would increase the possibility of the review process being completed before the applicant dies. Also, it would allow time for the patient to adjust and relate to his family or new surroundings.

Another requirement is that there be a clear separation between the medical prognosis and the assessment of risk upon, release. Medical staff should not be asked to assess risk but solely address the medical status and prognosis of the inmate. Risk assessment is the pervue of the criminal justice system.

It is at this stage that the process generally gets cumbersome and protracted. So many arms and voices within the criminal justice system are included that the inmate may be dead before a decision is reached. The political temptation to spread the risk and decision-making as broadly as possible needs to be reined in and the process streamlined. Maryland has a process that appears to run smoothly. What makes it particularly efficient is not only that they have kept steps to the necessary minimum, they have also mandated short timelines at each stage of the process. Any inmate applying for compassionate release knows that he or she will receive a decision no later than 30 days from the start of the process. In urgent cases, decisions have been made as quickly as one day.

Maryland also meets another requirement by mandating discharge planning as soon as the inmate is given a terminal diagnosis. This ensures that when the decision is made, everything is in place for the inmate's release.

Communication is also important. The system could benefit from staff being well educated on all aspects of the process and this information should be made available to inmates and their families, including language translation when necessary.

Finally, a key and critical requirement, is that when a doctor makes a terminal diagnosis a mandatory application for release is submitted and the process is started including discharge planning. This standardized application should be as simple and straightforward as possible.

http://www.npha.org/articles/Quinn7-1.html

accessed january 29, 2010

MEChA de ASU Solidarity With Mississippi Youth

Here's some cross-movement organizing for you. A few of us got together yesterday and came up with this sign, then I stopped by the MEChA de ASU meeting and told them what was up, so a bunch of them signed to support the youth and church groups, mainly, working to free the Scott Sisters.

We know this is all about civil rights and justice, not just about seeking mercy.

I'll be down at the Palestinian Wall memorial on Hayden Lawn today seeking support, too.

Hang in there, Mrs. Rasco. All of you. We've still got a long haul ahead, I think, but there's a lot of love and outrage stirring on the Scott Sisters behalf. This is America, after all. This kind of thing should be fixed when it happens here, not re-written for history books...who are we, if we can't be real?

Good for the media covering this now, by the way - the first ones show the most courage.






This is a close-up of the insert to Nina Simone's Anthology. Great tunes. Seemed appropriate to tack on there, since I've been listening a lot.

Still recruiting more Mississippi Prison Watchers!

- Peggy Plews

Wexford , Mississippi & Jamie Scott: Cruel and Unusual Health Care.

from the day of Blogging (March 25) for Jamie Scott at Mother Jones.
Thank you both for being in on this one:
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Cruel and Unusual Health Care

How Mississippi prisoner Jamie Scott's life sentence could turn into a death sentence.

By James Ridgeway and Jean Casella | Thu Mar. 25, 2010 3:00 AM PDT

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On February 25, a small crowd gathered outside the state capitol in Jackson, Mississippi, to push for the release of sisters Jamie and Gladys Scott, who are serving two consecutive life sentences apiece for a 1993 armed robbery [1] in which no one was injured and the take was about $11. Supporters of the Scott sisters have long tried to draw attention to their case as an extreme example of the distorted justice and draconian sentencing laws that have overloaded prisons [2], crippled state budgets, and torn families apart across the United States. But in recent months, their cause has taken on a new urgency, because Jamie Scott's unwarranted life sentence may soon become a death sentence.

Jamie, 38, is suffering from kidney failure. In order to stave off further complications, she needs either a kidney transplant or regular sessions of dialysis, a procedure in which blood is drained from the patient through a cleansing filter and then returned to the body. But at the Central Mississippi Correctional Facility (CMCF) in Pearl, where Jamie and Gladys are incarcerated, medical services are provided by a private contractor called Wexford, which has been the target of lawsuits and legislative investigations in several states over inadequate treatment of the inmates in its care. According to Jamie's family, in the eight weeks since her condition became life-threatening, she has endured faulty or missed dialysis sessions, infections, and other complications. She has received no indication that prison doctors are considering a kidney transplant as an option, though her sister is a willing donor.

Jamie's family and legal advisors believe the poor health care she is receiving in prison places her life at risk. The Mississippi Department of Corrections (MDOC) has a provision for what it calls "conditional medical release"—but Jamie is not a candidate, department spokesperson Suzanne Garbo Singletary said in an email, because "MDOC policy provides that an inmate must have a condition that is 'incapacitating, totally disabling and/or terminal in nature' in order to qualify." So Jamie appears to be caught in a deadly catch-22. In order to be released from prison, she must convince the MDOC that her illness is terminal or "totally disabling"—and it seems the authorities won't be persuaded of that unless she dies in prison.

Since Jamie became critically ill, her supporters have also appealed to Mississippi Gov. Haley Barbour to consider early compassionate release. They have received no response—and the prospects don't look good: Barbour has a record of being extremely stingy when it comes to issuing pardons. He is also currently engaged in a budget battle with his state legislature to prevent cuts to Mississippi's prison spending, and the early releases [3] such cuts would demand. According to a local television station that reported [4] on the rally at the capitol, a spokesperson for Barbour said that "Jamie Scott was tried, convicted and incarcerated, and she is receiving her care with the Department of Corrections."

A Sick System

In telephone interviews, the Scott sisters' mother, Evelyn Rasco, described the treatment Jamie has received at Central Mississippi Correctional Facility (CMCF), based on her own observations and information provided by her two daughters. Jamie, who has diabetes and bouts of high blood pressure, said that prison medical staff told her in 1997 that she had high protein levels in her urine, indicating possible kidney problems.

Until recently, however, she received minimal treatment beyond the insulin prescribed for her diabetes. Jamie's physical and mental health suffered last fall when she spent 23 days in solitary confinement (for being found in an "unauthorized area" in the prison gym) and was cut off from her routine of work, classes, church, and occasional visits with her sister. Then, in mid-January, Jamie became seriously ill when both her kidneys began shutting down. She was sent to the prison infirmary and, after a week's delay, was taken to hospital. There, doctors inserted a shunt in Jamie's neck to allow her to receive dialysis through a catheter, and she was promptly returned to prison.

Rather than letting Jamie leave the prison regularly for treatment, prison authorities chose to truck in dialysis machines. About three times a week, Jamie has received hemodialysis in a trailer on the prison grounds—if the machines are working properly, which she reports isn't always the case. At one session, Jamie told her mother, the blood was flowing out of her through a catheter into the dialysis machine—but it wasn't flowing back in, so the treatment had to be stopped. At the end of January, another inmate looked in on Jamie, who was locked up alone in her cell, and found her unconscious. She was rushed to the hospital, where doctors told her there were problems with the shunt inserted into her neck. They made adjustments, and she was again returned to prison.

Rasco lives in Pensacola, Florida, where she cares for her daughters' five children while they are behind bars. Since Jamie and Gladys went to prison, Rasco's husband of 30 years died of a heart attack; another daughter died of congestive heart failure; and her oldest son was away for several years serving with the Army in Iraq. In a letter to supporters last year, Jamie wrote [5]: "When I think of the word 'strongest,' I think of my mother. She is 4 feet 9 inches tall and has the strength of Job in the Bible."

Rasco lacks the time and financial resources to visit her daughters often, but in mid-February, she managed to make the trip to Mississippi. When she visited the prison, along with Jamie's 18-year-old son, Jamie was feeling sick but was able to make it to the visiting room. When Rasco returned two days later, she found Jamie in a cell attached to the infirmary. "She was real weak," Rasco said. "She couldn't walk." An infection appeared to have developed at the site of Jamie's catheter, which had filled with blood and pus. Nurses reportedly told Rasco that Jamie should be in the hospital, but the paperwork hadn't been done.

Rasco said that when she entered her daughter's cell, Jamie was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed with dirty linens, near a toilet and wash bowl that had not been cleaned. Prison staff arrived with a plate of food—a hamburger swimming in grease, rice, squash, a piece of cornbread, and a cookie—but Jamie said it looked so bad she couldn't eat it. The doctors at the hospital had given her a list of foods she should eat, including meat, fish, and vegetables, but they were not available, and she did not have permission to purchase food at the prison commissary. (That permission has since been granted.) So Jamie sat on her grimy bed eating a Snickers bar. "She sat right there with me," Rasco said, "and tried to give me a piece." Knowing it was the only nourishment her daughter was likely to have, her mother declined.

Since Rasco's visit, Jamie was back in the hospital for a day after experiencing chest pains following dialysis. Last week, she collapsed and was rushed to hospital, where doctors told the family an infection from an improperly placed shunt had spread through her body. At that point, according to the family, a hospital doctor stepped in and barred the prison from taking Jamie back into her cell, noting that she could die if denied hospital care. As of Wednesday, Jamie is back in prison. Her mother visited her there recently, and according to a person familiar with the case, reported Jamie was very weak and could scarcely walk due to an emergency catheter placed in her groin. She is scheduled to return to the hospital in the next few days, where doctors will prepare her for an operation next week that will attach a permanent fistula or shunt into her body to make kidney dialysis possible. Requests by Mother Jones last week to interview Christopher Epps, the state commissioner of corrections, were denied.

The best medical option for Jamie would be a kidney transplant. Studies show that patients in their thirties who receive successful transplants live considerably longer [6] than those who remain on dialysis. Rasco said that when Gladys Scott, 34, learned of her sister's kidney failure, she immediately offered to give Jamie a kidney. Gladys says that CMCF staff told her that state prisoners don't qualify as donors, and that a transplant would be too expensive, though there is no indication that their statements reflect official MDOC policy. Rasco said that she was hoping the prison would at least let Gladys care for Jamie—feed her and bathe her—as inmates are sometimes allowed to do for ailing relatives. When Rasco last spoke to her, Gladys had not received the necessary permission.

Chokwe Lumumba, a longtime activist and attorney who also serves on the Jackson City Council, is representing the family in the medical matter. In an interview, Lumumba said, "Our first idea is to get some medical attention into the jail. Asking for a private doctor to go in there and see her." But what Jamie really needs, he told me, is "to be in hospital until a kidney transplant."

Singletary, the MDOC's spokesperson, replied to several email inquiries regarding Jamie's care. In one email, she wrote that "MDOC cannot comment on any specific medical condition or treatment for an inmate." In another, she referred to patient privacy laws when asked whether a kidney transplant was being considered for Jamie Scott. Regarding transplants for state prisoners in general, Singletary said that "the state would pay for a needed and necessary transplant" and would do so "when evaluated the Dr. as needed [sic]." Singletary added in another message: "Dialysis units are fully operational with no malfunctions documented in the past several years." She restated the MDOC's policy that "chronic, but stable, medical conditions are not eligible for conditional medical release consideration."

Jamie's care is in the hands of Wexford Health Sources, a Pittsburgh-based private company that provides prison medical services. Wexford's record [7] includes lawsuits by prisoners and current or former employees in at least six states, as well as allegations involving racial discrimination and improper gifts to public officials. In 2006, the Santa Fe Reporter investigated [8] Wexford, which supplied health care to some 6,000 New Mexico prisoners, and discovered widespread complaints, among them that Wexford "refuses to grant off-site visits for seriously ill inmates." The story concluded that "the company's insistence on the bottom line over the care of its charges causes inmates to suffer, sometimes with lasting, even fatal, results. The investigation prompted [9] hearings [10] on prison health care in the New Mexico state legislature, and in December 2006, Governor Bill Richardson ordered [11] the New Mexico Corrections Department to find a new health care provider.

Wexford's reported resistance to allowing inmates access to offsite treatment is particularly relevant to Jamie's case and the potentially dangerous delays she has experienced before being sent to the hospital. The same issue surfaced in a 2002 case in Pennsylvania, where a 26-year-old prisoner named Erin Finley suffered a fatal asthma attack in prison while under Wexford's care. According to the Wilkes Barre Times Herald, Finley's family eventually received a $2.15 million settlement after their lawyer presented evidence showing that "Finley desperately sought medical care for severe asthma she had had since she was a child, but she was repeatedly rejected based on a prison doctor's belief that she was 'faking' her symptoms." On the day of her death, Finley was taken to the prison infirmary several hours after complaining that she was having trouble breathing. A physician's assistant examined her and told the doctor she needed to go to a hospital, "but he refused to see her and left the prison at 2:40 p.m. Twenty minutes later, Finley lost consciousness and stopped breathing," according to the Times Herald. She was finally sent to the hospital—only to be pronounced dead [12].

In Mississippi, where Wexford took over health care for the majority of the state's prisoners in 2006 under a three-year, $95 million contract, the Jackson Clarion Ledger reported [13] in November 2008 that "a search of the federal court system found more than a dozen open lawsuits [7] filed by inmates against MDOC on medical issues." At Central Mississippi Correctional Facility—the prison where the Scott sisters are housed—the sister of a dead inmate said she watched her brother waste away for months from inadequately treated Crohn's Disease, an inflammation of the digestive tract. "He literally starved," Charlotte Boyd said of her brother William Byrd, who died in November 2008. "We watched him turn into a skeleton." Boyd told the Clarion Ledger that people might lack sympathy for prisoners like her brother, a convicted rapist, but "even a dog needs medical attention." She said [7] she believes that "if they are doing him that way, they are going to let somebody else die, too."

In fact, Mississippi has one of the highest prisoner death rates in the nation, according to a review of prison statistics carried out by the Jackson Clarion Ledger's Chris Joyner. The death rate in 2007 was 34 percent higher than in 2006—the year Wexford took over the MDOC's medical care. A December 2007 report conducted by the Mississippi Legislature's Joint Committee on Performance Evaluation and Expenditure Review (PEER) concluded that inmates were not receiving timely and adequate medical treatment from Wexford. Among other things, the report found that Wexford "did not meet medical care standards set forth under its contract with the state" and "did not adhere to its own standards in following up on inmates with chronic health problems." When questioned about the report and the high prisoner death rates, the Clarion Ledger reported [14], corrections commissioner Epps "said he is satisfied with the contractor's performance." The budget [15] presented by Epps for the coming fiscal year, which begins on July 1, shows a request of $37.4 million to Wexford for medical services.

In response to questions about care provided by Wexford, MDOC spokesperson Singletary wrote: "Jamie Scott is receiving quality medical care for her condition. Wexford provides basic medical care for all inmates at MDOC prisons. Inmates are sent to hospitals if the need for hospital care arises." Singletary stated that such decisions are made by the attending doctor at the prison, a Wexford employee. Wexford did not respond to requests for comment.

Unpardonable Offenses
On December 23, 1993, Jamie and Gladys Scott, then 22 and 19, were both young mothers with no criminal records. They were at the local mini-mart buying heating fuel when they ran into two young men they knew, who offered to give them a ride. Sometime later that evening, the two young men were robbed [16] by a group of three boys, ages 14 to 18, who arrived in another car, armed with a shotgun.
Jamie and Gladys say that they had already left the scene to walk home when the robbery took place. The state insisted they were an integral part of the crime, and in fact had set up the victims to be robbed. Wherever the truth lies, trial transcripts [16] clearly reveal a case based entirely on the testimony of the victims and two of the teenaged co-defendants—who had turned state's evidence against the Scott sisters in return for eight-year sentences—and a prosecutor who appears determined to demonize [16] the two young women.
Jamie and Gladys were not initially arrested for the crime. But ten months later, the 14-year-old co-defendant—who had been in jail on remand during that time—signed a statement implicating them. When questioned by the Scotts' attorney, the boy confirmed that he had been "told that before you would be allowed to plead guilty" to a lesser charge, "you would have to testify against Jamie Scott and Gladys Scott." The boy also testified that he had neither written nor read the statement before signing it. It had been written for him by someone at the county sheriff's office, he said, and he "didn't know what it was." But he had been told that if he signed it "they would let me out of jail the next morning, and that if I didn't participate with them, that they would send me to Parchman [state penitentiary] and make me out a female"—which he took to mean he would be raped. The 18-year-old co-defendant who testified against the Scott sisters also said he was testifying against the Scotts as a condition of his guilty plea to a lesser charge.
But the prosecutor succeeded in depicting Jamie and Gladys not only as participants in the crime robbery, but as its masterminds—two older women who had lured three impressionable boys into the robbing the victims at gunpoint. (This despite the fact that the oldest of the co-defendants was just a year younger than Gladys.) In his summation, he told the jury:

They thought it up. They came up with the plan. They duped three young teenage boys into going along and doing something stupid that is going to cost them the next eight years of their lives in the penitentiary.
That probably makes me, at least, as mad about this case, simply at least as much, as the fact that two people got robbed. That three young boys were duped into doing the dirty work.

The prosecutor also reminded jurors that while Jamie and Gladys admittedly did not have a weapon, the judge's instructions "tell you that if they encourage someone else or counsel them or aid them in any way in committing this robbery they are equally guilty."
It took the jury just 36 minutes to convict the Scott sisters. And while there was a range of possible sentences for the crime of armed robbery, the state asked for—and received—two consecutive life sentences for each sister. In contrast, Edgar Ray Killen, the man convicted in 2005 of manslaughter in the 1964 deaths of civil rights workers Schwerner, Cheney, and Goodman, received a sentence of 60 years [17]—meted out by the same judge who presided over the trial of Jamie and Gladys.
A direct appeal, carried out by the same lawyers who defended them at trial, failed to overturn [18] the Scotts' conviction, because they were tried for a crime committed before October 1994, when even harsher sentencing rules had been introduced.
During her recent visit to Mississippi, Rasco had the opportunity to confront Epps, the state's corrections commissioner, when she attended a meeting at the state capitol on prison budget cuts. She spotted Epps, whom she recognized from a photograph, walked up to him, and told him about her daughter's poor health and the problems with her medical treatment. According to Rasco, Epps said that he was getting a lot of messages about Jamie, and that he would do what he could obtain a pardon or clemency for the Scott sisters. He told her that he was "giving his word on this," although he had no power to actually make it happen himself.
The person who could make it happen is Governor Haley Barbour, whose past record on pardons does not bode well for Jamie and Gladys. Barbour, who took office in 2004, was initially known for refusing to grant any pardons. In his second term he changed course [19]—but only for a particular set of offenders. A 2008 investigation by the Jackson Free Press found that Barbour had pardoned [20]or suspended the sentences of five murderers, four of whom had killed [21] their former or current wives or girlfriends. All five men were part of a prison program under which they did odd jobs at the governor's mansion. Writing in Slate, Radley Balko, summarized [19] Haley Barbour's pardon policy as "show[ing] mercy only to murderers who work on his house."
Jamie's health crisis has also coincided with a protracted struggle between the governor and state legislators over how to handle budget shortfalls. Throughout, the ambitious Barbour, who is talked about [22] as a possible 2012 presidential candidate [23], has appeared determined to polish his reputation for being both fiscally conservative and tough on crime. With revenue down due to the recession, Barbour implemented a series of deep, across-the-board cuts to state spending in the current fiscal year. He recently vetoed a bill that would have restored some of that funding, primarily to education. At the same time, he asked [24] the legislature to put $16 million back into the Department of Corrections budget. "We have the resources to restore funding to our priorities this year," the governor said in a statement [25], "including law enforcement and corrections."
Against opponents who argued that Mississippi already spends more on prisoners than it does on schoolchildren, Barbour held up the specter of what could happen if prison spending was cut: 3,000 to 4,000 inmates would have to be released early. "The threat of convicted criminals on the streets," the Jackson Free Press wrote [3] in February, "has provided Barbour a rhetorical trump card in budget negotiations." Even in light of such rhetoric, it would be difficult to see the Scott sisters as dangerous or violent offenders, although the state of Mississippi has certainly gone to great lengths to depict them as such.
Nancy Lockhart, a legal investigator and analyst based in South Carolina, has been working with Rasco for several years, organizing a grassroots campaign to secure decent treatment for the Scotts and either a review of their case or some provision for their early release. In interviews last week, Lockhart said that she had helped Rasco appeal to the Justice Department, which informed her that the statute of limitations was up for civil rights claims. They plan to try again, offering proof of earlier letters to the DOJ. They have also organized letter writing and email campaigns to numerous state and MDOC officials, and set up a website. The sisters' group of supporters is growing, but they have received few responses to their pleas.
The Scott sisters will be eligible for parole [26] in 2014, after they have served 20 years—though there is no guarantee they will receive it. In the meantime, Evelyn Rasco is praying for mercy, for a good lawyer—and for her daughter Jamie to live that long.
Updates about the Scott sisters' case can be found on Solitary Watch [27], where an earlier version of this story appeared.

---

Source URL: http://motherjones.com/politics/2010/03/jamie-scott-gladys-scott-haley-barbour-wexford-health

Links:
[1] http://www.huffingtonpost.com/anthony-papa/the-scott-sisters-two-lif_b_169468.html
[2] http://www.nationaljournal.com/njmagazine/or_20091114_7374.php
[3] http://www.jacksonfreepress.com/index.php/site/comments/behind_barbours_prison_rhetoric_021710/
[4] http://www.my601.com/news/local/story/Evers-Rallies-At-The-Capitol-For-Sick-Inmate/YW1Oe-usD0mpy5qf6yfmxw.cspx
[5] http://freethescottsisters.blogspot.com/2009/08/letter-from-jamie-scott.html
[6] http://blog.nj.com/ledgerarchives/2009/06/kidney_transplant_vs_dialysis.html
[7] http://www.privateci.org/rap_wexford.html
[8] http://sfreporter.com/stories/hard_cell/594/
[9] http://sfreporter.com/stories/top_10_stories_of_2006_prison_break/1047/
[10] http://sfreporter.com/stories/checkup/700/
[11] http://sfreporter.com/stories/sfr_exclusive_wexford_under_fire/1023/
[12] http://www.privateci.org/pennsylvania.htm
[13] http://pittsburgh.bizjournals.com/pittsburgh/stories/2006/07/03/story6.html
[14] http://www.prisontalk.com/forums/showthread.php?p=4211453
[15] http://www.mdoc.state.ms.us/FY 2011 Budget Presentation.pdf
[16] http://www.scribd.com/doc/21748820/Scott-transcript
[17] http://www1.voanews.com/english/news/a-13-Preacher-Gets-60-Years-in-Prison-for-1964-Civil-Rights-Slayings-66927232.html
[18] http://www.scribd.com/doc/21748684/Scott-Sisters-Opinion
[19] http://www.slate.com/id/2238938/
[20] http://www.jacksonfreepress.com/index.php/site/comments/barbour_helps_domestic_killers_073008/
[21] http://www.jacksonfreepress.com/index.php/site/comments/barbour_gives_relief_to_4_domestic_killers_of_5_total_080408/
[22] http://www.newsweek.com/id/228841
[23] http://motherjones.com/mojo/2009/06/oh-please-let-haley-barbour-run-president
[24] http://desototimes.com/articles/2010/02/27/news/state/doc4b85d6a19ff94674722118.txt
[25] http://www.wlox.com/Global/story.asp?S=12047247
[26] http://www.mpb.state.ms.us/Parole Board Parole.htm
[27] http://solitarywatch.wordpress.com/

Hep C, Hard Time, and the Right to Life.

Hard Time. March 20, 2010.

Sent this Email out early this am, to a whole bunch of media and activists and other people, including ADC and the governor's office. Don't think it got through to everyone - had to keep trimming the list to not be cut as spam...So, now its on the blogs just in case. This was my attempt at PR. I may have trouble with all the photos right now, but the rest is self-explanatory. - peg

-----------------------

Well, this is pretty loaded and I'm making a unilateral decision to fire off these photos for the Governor. I think this is the only way she'll end up seeing them - if everyone else does. Hope I don't hit any friendlies, though. Duck now, if you're in prison, in case there's return fire (Prisoners are on the front lines, folks, not the garbage heaps. Front lines. This is America. Think young Black/Indigenous/Latino men and canaries. Very valuable, actually, in terms of what we will pay to dispose of them in the interest of the greater good).

Don't let all that alarm you. My dad was a solider. I grew up in Army green, and just talk like that. I'm really much the pacifist. I just think it's important to know how intensely personal and emotional - and absolutely political - this matter is for so many people. We will not just go away if ignored. This Hep C Mom, Julie, has been a vessel for Divine Intervention to happen in the lives of many people. I've seen it.

Don't underestimate her. She's got the raw, engaging humanity of a righteous Susan Sarandon, the faith and fearlessness of Alice Paul, and the fire and flair of Georgia O'Keefe.

And she's a woman who loves her family.


Anyway, I' m breaking this mass-mail up and sending it out (one by one if necessary, all night...forget that. It's on the blogs now) to fellow activists & abolitionists, media, and interested (or soon-to-be) others...and a few folks with the State of Arizona. I really wanted to introduce you all to each other in this email, though, but have been thwarted by antispam software.


I'm the wrong person to deal with media or this would have been done a long time ago, by the way. It was done much earlier today but bounced back. I'm not a technowhiz. Spacebook is beyond me. Blogspot's as sophisticated as I get.

So, about media: I should never be delegated this task. I have impulses to vandalize media outlets. I don't know why. It hasn't made for good media relations, though. So I'm stuck writing my own stories. This one isn't mine, though - it's about other people's kids and brothers and moms...so, it's fine to ignore me because my family is dying or free now - but please don't ignore them. I tried to tell them not to give this to me, but everyone's swamped. I have no good excuse, I guess, except for my anti-authoritarianism. I don't trust "media". I trust people, if they earn it. The only one out there I can say I really trust is Dennis Gilman - and he's not "mainstream" but he can be trusted to find the truth of an experience and let it tell itself. He's awesome.

Alright, so, I know it's just hours now before this event, and most of you are getting this after the fact. I believe it's all perfect timing, in the bigger picture, but I know that's a drag for others when it messes up their schedules. So, I'm sorry. I'm unconventional. It drives my friends and lovers crazy. Don't think we expect anyone but the Governor and a few curious folks from the ADC to be there in the AM, so no pressure - and the Governor hasn't exactly confirmed or anything. Just contact us if you want photos or info afterwards about our organizing activities (now in the works: "Make-a-Wish for Justice..." Who would you liberate with your last wish, and why? Enough of us are dying each day from poverty that we should be able to use our last wishes for mercy and Justice securing eachother's liberation.).

This Liver Walk thing is not an "event" announcement, by the way, so I'm really not late. It's not "our" event at all, anyway. It's the Liver Foundation's!

"please save my brother"

This is really just an FYI so folks know we're out there and make a point of backing up the Liver Foundation if they get any hassles for letting us walk (with what could be seen as pretty provocative signs about hep c - they didn't get this close a preview, so don't hold them responsible - but give them credit). Put a word in with the Governor about compassionate releases, too - Julie's kid needs one so she knows he's got access to the full range of treatment options before too much damage is done...attached is the note we dropped off for her office this week about the walk. They're the ones who encouraged us to get it to them, so, we'll see. (Hopefully no one thinks I'd ambush them...).

Sorry if you get one or two of these that didn't bounce back, and keep getting more duplicates. I'm winging it here.

Hope all of you are well and up for this.

Don't expect much Anarchy at this, by the way. I'd recommend that ADC follows Julie's lead, frankly - learn to dance more gracefully, or her people will take you out kicking and screaming. They're Unitarians and senior citizens (the banner was sewn by an octogenarian), moms and dads and sisters of prisoners, survivors of the war on the poor - most of them ex-prisoners who evidence some degree of PTSD. They do things like hide their legal documentation outside of their homes in case the state comes and ransacks their place to destroy their defense capabilities. It's apparently quite common...

Thanks for whatever help you can send, by the way. We can use a little amplification out here. It's a desert. No one notices living or dying bodies in the desert in Arizona except litterbugs and good samaritans/potential terrorists. You can be prosecuted for even knowing that your student's father might not be documented and not reporting your suspicion (the police will follow it up - all you need to do is report suspicions).

How are migrant communities supposed to stay safe if they can't report rapes and murders to the police without fear of entire families being imprisoned?

COPWATCH! That's how. It's cross-movement organizing at it's finest. And Anarchy seems to be the organizing principle.

Give me till after the walk to open up that blogspot - it'll just say it's not accessible until I do. I'm spent for the night.

Women's Health Week begins with Mother's day this year - begin planning now. And we'll be having a memorial for those who have died in the custody of the state on May 20; location TBA. I believe the 19th is World Hepatitis Day, too, right?

Thanks for your time. It's never too late to check in.

Don't be surprised to see this note go up as my next blog post on all sites, by the way - especially if I can't get these emails through to everyone. Both voices (here and below) are mine.

- peg

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FYI - At the Liver Life Walk SAT AM (March 20), Arizona prisoners' friends and families and former prisoners will be walking together and asking the state to respond to the Hep C epidemic in prisons and jails. 40% of women and 30% of men prisoners across the country are confirmed to be infected with hep c - the rates are likely much higher, and it disproportionately affects minorities and people in poverty. Undiagnosed and untreated in prison, HEP C becomes a threat to the community when people are released - which 95% of state prisoners eventually are.

Julie Acklin is your contact. Her son has HEP C, is in AZ prison, and has just been ruled out as a candidate for treatment.

He got Hep C in prison.

Julie's number is 623-594-4433. She is the principal organizer of prisoners' families and ex-prisoners with this new initiative. Children in will be in ADC Orange; Adults in Blood Red. Team is "A Mother's Cry" - Look for "Hard Time: Hepatitis C in Arizona State Prisons." New blog by that name up tomorrow.

Ryan and Brewer have already had a heads-up. No word back from Governor's office - not holding our breaths.

AZ Liver Foundation says advocate for hep c testing, treatment, research, prevention, and save lives.

That takes guts.

Those are Good people.

Support them with a note "for Hep C in Prison", if you can.

Catch up with us next week if you miss us tomorrow. Donate to the Liver Foundation. Hit the HARD TIME blog. Tell AZ HEP C prisoners and their families to send us their stories. We'll be organizing support and action groups soon.

- Peggy Plews
prisonabolitionist@gmail.com
480-580-6807

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The "Hard Time: Hep C in Arizona's State Prisons" blogspot is a free virtual info-type space for Arizona prisoners with Hepatitis C, their families, their friends, and their communities. We aspire to facilitate access to research and gather other resources about Hep C, as well as share stories, in order to collectively build foundations from which to strategize comprehensive, humane responses to the challenges of this epidemic among America's prisoners.


http://hardtimehepc.blogspot.com

(Coming March 20, 2010...)