Targeted?

[Anna’s note: Tod wrote this post on the 25th of January 2017.] 

Hello again and welcome to the Roost.

I was planning on making my next post about the new program where they are putting two people out in “basketball courts” (just a concrete slab, fenced in, with a bare basketball hoop at one end) together. I still plan to tell you all about that soon.

But something just happened yesterday that I think may be of interest to at least some of you. It illustrates the chaos that is prevalent in this world. So I hope no one minds if I relate this occurrence today.

I have to begin by telling you that just about three weeks ago, a major unit-wide “quarterly search” was conducted. As the title indicates, these searches are done approximately four times a year, during which they look for weapons and “contraband” and in general do their level best to disrupt people’s routine as much as possible. So, that means that about three weeks ago all our property was gone through thoroughly and searched.

Now that you have that background…

I was recently asked by one of you whether I am worried about people who work for the AZ Department of Corrections finding out about this blog. (The answer was and still is “no.” If I needed something to worry about, I could find better.) And I am not sure, but I may have been asked what would happen if they did find out. (I know I have run down some possible things that could happen, anyway.)

Well, to perhaps remove the mystery… I may just have found out what would happen if these asswipe bastards found out about this blog.

To be fair, I must tell you at this point that I am not sure that is what has happened. But I have thought through the possibilities and the one that keeps rising to the top of the file, given what was done and “targeted” is that the blog must be the cause. But, this is all conjecture on my part at this juncture. And I want to make that abundantly clear.

Now, with this said, I will relate what happened for you.

Yesterday was a day I was supposed to get recreation time and a shower. (I was in fact supposed to go out to the basketball court with someone!) But everything was “shut down”. Those who asked for a shower were given some vague excuse about a “personnel shortage” and perhaps later. Others asked different guards about recreation, and each was given as different response…something was clearly up!

When a “normal” search is conducted, the search team starts in block or “pod” one, and they continue around the cluster (which holds six pods of ten cells each) until they complete the circle and are done. This is not what happened yesterday. At a bit after 9:00 (9 AM is when administration gets here and fills up their offices in a building adjacent to the prison unit proper.)

The door to this block (I am in pod two) bangs open and in rushes enough cops to “post up” on every cell. (Have not had this type of search since I got off the violence control unit pod years ago!) We were all strip searched (I have described this process before so I won’t go into detail again) and told to “dress warm” and were allowed to take bottles of water with us. We were taken out of the cluster where we encountered at least two, perhaps three, squads of SSU (special security unit… which I also have not been searched by since I was last in VCU). Generally there is only one squad here, so the extra were brought in from other units. Of course at this point, “the jig was up” and we knew we were not just getting hit, but hit hard.

We were taken to outside holding cages where we were put on constant watch by a guard who mostly just sat and looked at us. Asking anyone that showed up as we might about what was going on, we were told that they did not know and were only told that death row was to be “locked down” with no movement until further notice. This in and of itself was odd, as there have been no assaults or communique intercepted by anyone to warrant such a response. So this type of search, while not unknown (if you are in VCU and assaulting people) is unusual, and reserved for “special occasions” as it takes the type of preparation and personnel that it does, and is therefore expensive to pull off, both resource-wise and monetarily.

As I have said before, a “normal” search means we are pulled out and stuck in a shower or something for fifteen minutes or so while a team of two or three guards (not SSU) go through our stuff, and then we are put back in our cages right away.

After an hour and forty five minutes (!!!) we were removed from the outdoor holding cells and brought back inside.

Based on previous behavior of this type, I was expecting us to be moved to different locations all over the cluster (due to time involved and SSU being the perpetrators of the search). This is done when a group of people become too “one-minded” in that one person’s problem with staff becomes everyone’s problem, or there seems to be just too much organization in a block…

But, no, that was not the case. We were brought back to our cages to find the whole hour and forty-five minutes was spent going through our stuff!

I did not ask everyone, but the two I did ask were– like myself– targeted for information. (Paperwork gone through, pads of paper rifled through, that sort of thing.) In general, these types of searches on death row are pretty rare. They are usually reserved for members of prison gangs (which I am not) to try and find out about gang activity information. The last search I got of this type, with SSU being involved and everything, was literally years ago. (Again, when I was on VCU.) and then it was generally after a major and serious issue that had happened somewhere (like an assault that the cops believed had been ordered by another inmate) and nothing like that has even occurred here recently that I am aware of.

But let me tell you what was personally done in my cage on this search. Some (but not all…almost like it was a diversion of some sort) of caches of paperwork (legal work) in envelopes and files were apparently gone through. Letters that have been sent to me were also gone through. But a composition book I keep (and jot down mostly unimportant things in that I want to remember or keep track of) was barely touched! (Which would be the exact sort of thing they would be interested in on an information search…the asswipes do not know it’s nothing until they take it, copy it, and look for non-existent “codes” in it!)

I also have a small file on people of “personal interest” on the row, and although again, this is something that should interest them… well, I am not even sure it was looked at. But none of that… nope…

What they did take was a pad of paper that I had future blog ideas written down in– even a partial post written up on the basketball program was in there! And that was what they took.

They also took every pen I have! (I found this one that I am writing with now rolling around in the bottom of a box.) They took the rolled up paper holders I make for pens because I only get pen fillers to write with, not the plastic part that the filler goes inside of. As far as pencils, I am only allowed to have three-inch-long “golf pencils” so I made a holder for those to fit in and they took that, too! I have had that pencil holder for literally over ten years…gone through I have no idea how many searches! The leads on most of my pencils were broken.

I am pretty sure I am being sent a clear message!

I am very aware that, after extended periods of time in punitive lockdown, some degree of paranoia is bound to set in. (As well as any number of mental issues.) But I have tried to see what was done from other angles, and nothing else makes a lot of sense. I suppose there is some degree of chance that things just happened, out of the blue, to go the way they did. But can you imagine the odds of that? Because I can’t.

To me (a self-admitted asshole) the message that is being sent is simple: under no circumstances will I stop writing entries for this blog!

I must assume someone found Muninn’s Roost and clearly does not like it. Their problem, though, is that there is nothing they can do, legally or otherwise, to stop it! I am within my rights and no laws (or even prison rules!) are being broken, either by Anna or by me.

They can screw with me and make my life miserable. Some of my posts and letters may even “get lost” on the way to Anna. But they are otherwise powerless against their mortal enemy… the truth!!!

As I stated at the beginning of this post, this is all supposition on my part. I may never know one way or another whether my suspicions are correct. (Other than by my treatment here.) There may be clues that can be read (such as if the letters I send to Anna have large gaps between the date on the letter and the stamped postmark date, or if the envelopes are cut open on one end and taped back shut… that means the asswipes are opening them.) But as neither Anna nor I have or are doing anything wrong legally or otherwise, that may be all the evidence we will ever have.

I will have some trouble replacing what was taken. (Perhaps this was their plan? They know my financial situation– they have that on file in their computer system.) The pens I cannot afford to buy. The paper? There were only fifteen or twenty sheets left so I got to use over half anyway. (But it does sting a bit to have it stolen like that.) I can make my pencil holder up again and see if perhaps there is a market for cards….one or two, perhaps? Card drawing is pretty seasonal, except for birthdays, and there are a few people “gettin’ their hustle on” that way. Valentine’s Day is approaching… not a lot of time to get any business together for that, however. Just have to see.

I do know that I will keep posting about this place for as long as I can. I think it is important that I do that– especially now!

Yes, there were other things that were taken, non-blog-related things. Stuff not usually messed with (like my pencil holder) things that I use to make my existence a little bit less annoying. I may not make replacements, actually– my thoughts turn toward “pushing back” at this point.

Well, that is about all I have for this post. I will be back as soon as I can, and I will keep you updated if I ever do find out the reason for what happened. Oh, and I will tell you about the basketball program in the next post, barring any major upheavals here anyway.

Please do not forget to thank Anna….you would know nothing of me were it not for her.

 

Ask Tod Anything: Part III

Welcome again to Muninn’s Roost. I am having a lot of fun with all these questions. Thank all of you for being so interested in my situation. Generally, people don’t understand what goes on in a place like this– or understand the justice system at all, really– until they or someone close to them becomes entangled in it. I am happy there is curiosity out there.

And, with that said, let’s get to more of these great questions.

12.) What are some of the silliest or dumbest rules and regulations that govern your day-to-day life? 

Wow, where do I start? They are mostly pretty silly and dumb. By policy, we must all have our trash can in a certain spot. (Oddly enough, it is the only spot in the tiny cage where it is out of the way, and everyone would put it there without that regulation.)

Then there is getting “strip searched” to go to the shower– about 30 feet. After you have handed them all your clothes, been searched, and put them back on, you pick up your bag that has your towel and soap in it. That bag could fit two hand grenades and a pistol, and they never ask to see it, which tells me the strip search is for the purpose of degradation and embarrassment rather than actual security reasons.

The rules they refuse to change– even though they have modified the purpose of the unit– are the ones that actually do harm, though. Where I am housed is an S.M.U. (“special management unit”) and was designed to house people who “have problems fitting into a prison environment”. (What that actually means is that it is a unit designed to punish violent convicts.) So it is a punitive unit in every sense and way. The environment is designed to make people uncomfortable to modify their behavior by making them not want to come back.

Mental health professionals have evaluated S.M.U.’s and have determined that they should not be used to house an individual for more than 6 to 8 months maximum or the mental stability of a person will begin to degrade.

Death row has been in this S.M.U. since 1997! That is nineteen years for those of you who do not want to do the math. And we are not here for punitive reasons. We are here because of the virtue of our crimes on the outside only– this is where death row is housed, and we are on death row, simple as that. So because of that, we are given smaller-portioned meals than someone out “on a yard”. (We are in fact only fed twice a day, while non-S.M.U. inmates on yards are fed three times.) I have not experienced darkness since I got here because the lights are always on. It is purposely kept hot enough in the summer that you sit in your cage and sweat doing nothing, and cold enough in winter that you have trouble staying warm. The list goes on and I could write pages on it but you get the idea. There are lawsuits finally going on concerning medical care…but even that will take years to hash out. So to answer your question, the silly rules one can put up with. It is the ones that are designed purposely to mentally degrade a person that are annoying.

13.) Tell us three things about your daily life on death row that might surprise us. 

Every day runs into the next there. It is very tedious because of its unchanging nature. So I will tell you about me. Perhaps I can surprise you a little bit:

• This “big bad convict on death row” likes to read poetry. I am very fond of Baudelaire and Poe. But I also like Longfellow, Blake, Byron, Coleridge… I find Kipling to be quaint and amusing… I could go on with my likes but you get the idea.
• I am a student of philosophy. (I like to think it…helps?…to keep me from falling too far into the abyss that is insanity.) I stick mainly with the metaphysicians, but I am familiar with all schools.
• And I am an artist. (Not that unusual in prison, actually.) But people say I have flair for drawing pretty flowers. I do draw other things as well, however.

I hope this answer did not leave you feeling cheated.

14.) Not counting lawyers, how many times have you had a face-to-face visitor in the last twelve months? 

The answer is zero! After one is locked up for a while, it seems people get tired of making the trip. (It is a fair piece.) My father was very regular…but he died four years ago this coming January.

15.) How would you want to be remembered by Anna and others in your life after you are gone? 

Likely the same as you want to be remembered by those in your life.

Yes, there are some individuals in prison that thrive on this environment and could live no place else…but most are just people, ground up by a system that is broken and tossed into a cage to try and survive in a world not of their making… a world that cannot be understood by anyone who has not experienced it. Words cannot come close to doing it justice.

16.) Is your execution something you think about daily? 

No, it isn’t. When somebody says, “Haul that one out and kill it!” then it will be my turn. No point in dwelling on it. I actually think that might be a contributing factor to the ones that go truly batshit crazy in this place. In a place like this, it is important to mentally remove oneself from the situation as often as possible.

17.) Have you decided on your last meal and words? 

Anna and I actually discussed this not too long ago, and I will tell you what I told her:

My last meal? I will eat whatever is on the menu that day for the meal. I don’t want those murdering bastards to feel any better about themselves by letting them think they did me some favor or kindness. Execution is nothing more than murder by proxy.

My last words? Don’t know yet. Might be something as simple as, “Slap this horse in the ass; I’ve got things to do!” or I might wax poetic and go on until they stop me. You will have to stay tuned to find out, I guess. I am sure the mood will dictate.

18. Is it unusual for someone to have been on death row as long as you have? Are you unique in being over fifty years old and on death row or is that fairly normal?

There have been four people to die of “natural causes” (whatever that means. I think it’s pretty “natural” to die when they pump you full of caustic chemicals myself.) since I have been here– one was in his eighties! (The funniest, or most tragic depending on how you look at it, was a heart attack while sitting on the toilet!) The longest I know of was killed a couple of years ago after 28 years on the row. (He was almost 80.) No, I am not unusual. There is another in his fifties on my block.

This is why it takes millions of tax dollars to execute someone. They are in the courts for decades! (The last time I totaled it up, the actual drugs cost about $77.00 but that was years ago.)

Talk to your congressman. Ask them why your tax dollars are being wasted when “natural life” means someone never gets out of prison. They die locked up, no chance of parole.

19.) Are you worried about physical pain in your last moments?

No. Pain is something I live with on survival levels every day. (I lived a hard life in the mountains of Colorado for a long time. Been in a motorcycle wreck or two, just “used my body” pretty good. I have a bad back, bad knees, a messed up shoulder…in short, I’m old.) Inadequate medical care means nothing is done for it.  Pain and I are old friends. Besides, as I already said in one of these Q&A posts, I can put up with most anything for fifteen minutes. I am not stressing on it.

20.) To what extent do you find the prospect of life without parole to be more appealing than what you currently face?

Good question… and the short answer is: I don’t. (See the above question as for why.) This is a topic of discussion on occasion in here, and most are in agreement that prison is no place to grow old. In my personal instance, I am currently physically able to work out and I do to an extensive degree, but someday I will not be able to, due to damage to my body from a fast, hard life. When that time comes (if it comes) I imagine I will become very sedentary due to lack of mobility. All the muscle I now maintain around my injured back, knees, etc. will atrophy and I imagine my pain will skyrocket. Not a pretty picture in a place where one is lucky to get an aspirin or an ibuprofen for pain. As stated above… prison is no place to grow old.

Well, I finally got through all the questions! You get a rest, Anna! (I am truly sorry for the voluminous nature of some of these answers. Please forgive me.)

As for my readers… thank you so much, and I am happy that you took the time to interact. I have some good suggestions for future blog posts, so stay tuned! Please, all of you take care.

And please remember, without Anna, none of this would be possible. (Yes, I wrote that and not she.) Again, thank you, Anna. And thank you, everyone, for stopping by the Roost!

Anatomy of a Search

Hello again and welcome to Muninn’s Roost. I loathe to sound like I am whining, but a friend advised that people who visit this site may wish to hear more about this place and how existence is within in it. So upon that friend’s very trusted advice…

I was “searched” yesterday. Let me apologize in advance for having to get a bit graphic with some aspects of this occurrence, but I feel that to get the true idea across at least some of that is needed. For without the purposeful demeaning elements, it loses something.

A search is something one really needs to experience to fully appreciate. And I am not talking about one that is staged for a television show here. I am talking about the “real deal”. Something the guards call “tossing a cell” or “a shakedown”.

It begins with a noise, lot of it. Ten to fifteen guards standing at the foot to a block getting excited over the idea of tearing through cells. Some cycle the mechanism of their handcuffs over and over… it makes a loud zipping and clicking noise. Those disposed to nervousness may begin to feel mild to severe paranoia here depending on their sensibilities. Then there are those of us who feel anger and go on the defense.

Then the door to the block bangs open…

Carts roll in on noisy wheels to put things on that are taken away for arbitrary reasons far too myriad for space to allow a description of. Large trash cans are dragged in to throw away things deemed as trash or my favorite term: “Nuisance contraband,” which anything can be labeled.

The guards stop at the first cage closest to the door, open “the trap” (a small metal door covering a slot in the door through which mostly food is passed through) and the occupant is ordered to strip and hand the gloved guard their clothes. (The guards wear rubber surgical gloves always; they don’t want to touch us with their hands.) While naked the man is ordered to show them the inside of their mouth, to raise their arms, lift their scrotum, then ordered to “turn around and squat and cough”. Some comply with this degrading demand… I just continue to turn until I face them again and demand my clothes back. (I simply must draw the line someplace.) Some can be insistent… in which case I get other clothing and put that on. Some may call over a sergeant and tell them I am being “non-compliant” (like I ever would be compliant) and the sergeant usually tells them to back off a bit.

Then the person is chained and removed from their cage. (Some use metaphorical terms like “cell” or “room” or even “house”… I don’t kid myself, I live in a cage… like an animal.) A team of guards then enter the cage and proceed to tear through what little property the person has. This is not done in a polite or nice manner as it is on the aforementioned television show. (There are no cameras present.) And after they have touched, moved, perhaps thrown everything in your cage… you are brought back, the door closes behind you, the chains are removed, and you are left, sometimes having to walk across your own legal work strewn all over the floor, to try and figure out what might be broken or if something has been stolen from you.

It takes anywhere from two to eight people about ten or fifteen minutes to turn a man’s pitiful existence upside down. And while you are waiting for them to get to you you can hear them in the cell next to you. And again as you try to re-organize what little life you have, they do it to the next person in line.

It takes a while to recover from such a thing. First (after I figure out best as I can what is broken or missing) I just pick things up and put them in the couple of boxes I’m allowed to have. I am not trying to put things where they go, mind you; I am just getting stuff off of the floor and contained. I won’t get things back in order (files and what have you) until perhaps the next day… depending on when the search happened– usually in the evening– the only time one really has to try to relax.

After I get things picked up, I clean…ceiling, walls, floor, everything! (I call it “cleaning the asswipe out of my cage”.) I do this because you can never know where the asswipes (guards) came from. Before they got to you they could have been searching a block where they house the mentally insane, who cut themselves and throw (or wear) their feces and urine, or standing in blood. (The insane cut themselves too.) or blood from an assault, somewhere, blood infected with any number of viral pathogens. (I clean a lot!) Then I wash me from head to foot with an anti-bacterial soap, (when I can afford to buy it) or at  least regular soap. Staying clean and cleaning is almost a full-time job.

It can take awhile to settle back down into your normal (what is “normal” in a world like this?) pattern of existence. At best this place is a theater of chaotic absurdities. What a human can get used to is truly amazing. But generally, after a day or two, the search fades to a dull memory. (One needs the ability to “move on” in an environment such as this.) “Adapt. Overcome.” Such is my mantra.

Well, that is what it’s like to get searched in the highest maximum security prison in the state of Arizona. I can’t promise anything. But next time I may attempt to write about something besides “here”. I like to try to mentally get out of this place when I can. For now, I will leave you with another piece that I wrote. (Yes, about this place.) It has a few lines that pertain to searches in it. I hope you enjoy it, or at least it moves some of you in some way.

Until next time,

Tod