Well finally it’s coming time for me to leave Allred Unit I am looking forward to seeing my country again; Britain had been great regarding communication and support, as I have said I had written to the American Government with no success, yet I had written to Tony Blair and I had a lovely personal Christmas card from him and his wife, I had also written to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, not as my Queen but as defender of the faith, an oath she had sworn many years ago.
I had two nice replies from Her Majesty, not penned by her own hand but that didn’t matter because what was important to me was the fact that she did not ignore me because I was a prisoner, she acknowledge me and that alone meant so much in hell.
The first was from the home office that started with the words, Her Majesty has asked me to write, and the second was from her Lady in Waiting, who started the letter Her Majesty has asked me to write to you, and now home was so near, and all this would be over, or so I thought.
I have a week left until my discharge, and I had sent most of my stuff out to my sister, I had been doing collages, if you remember I had started doing them in C-40, at that time they had a Christian theme, however I decided to make a collage out of whatever came along, and so when I would come across pictures or magazines I would go with that theme, I needed to occupy my time somehow other than what was being done to me, but then they don’t know my reasons, and I don’t care what opinion anyone has of me anymore.
I had sent a lot of my stuff out, but I had held some back to carry out with me, I did have a feeling to send them out though, see stuff would get intercepted by the officers, and so I lost a lot of stuff, things the evil-one had stolen from me by his buddies and by this I mean officers who stole for him, and if he could he would steel this book from me too.
But this is my story not anyone else’s, he will do anything to mess me up and prevent me from prospering.
I had made my own magazine; I called it, IT Magazine. I had stuck things over an old magazine, I also use to make books using cardboard for the front and back covers, I had also brought some magazines from some of the guys, and had taken the pages out that I wanted to use to make a book of cars and bikes which one doesn’t see much over here in the UK.
So I had all this stuff, and I knew I could only take one commissary bag with me, so I made sure that I could fit all that I had in it, so I was correctly prepared for leaving.
I was to be deported so I knew that I would have to go to immigration but I never knew how long I might be at immigration for, and so I stocked up on coffee, and also that’s why I brought the magazines for, I figured it would give me something to do at immigration, I also wanted to take my radio with me for the same reason, I may have been discharging but I wasn’t going home, I was simply going to another place, but I would be free from TDC, or so I thought.
One evening an officer came to tell me to pack my stuff, now this was a total surprise because I wasn’t due to leave for another week, but they had decided to send me to the Walls unit a week early.
The officer gave me a small chain bag, and when I told him that I had my own commissary bag he said that we could no longer use them, I said but I won’t fit my stuff in that small thing, so he gave me another one and said they would send it on to me, well I knew that was a lie and that I was being screwed again, also the increase of abuse began, guy’s started crowding round me as I tried to sort out what to take and what to leave, and that also was unsettling me, now I had to decide what to take.
I knew the evil-one was after my Magazine so I made sure that all my book material went with me, I knew that I should of sent it out in advance but I had ignored that feeling, I was cussing myself for not following my better judgment, but I had already overloaded my poor sister.
Because of how they blocked me off I couldn’t think straight anyway but then that wasn’t anything new, I had to leave my coffee and other things, I had to leave my radio to, I knew that they would not send them on, but I took my book material and magazine.
So then I was all packed up, I was rushed because I had to do it on the table in the dayroom while the officer inventoried it, the second bag he labelled as if to send it on, but I knew I had seen the end of it, that was it my last night in Allred prison.
After breakfast it was time to catch the chain, I was waiting with the other guys, and again the stalling began, the prolonged wait, and the intense atmosphere, the attitude of the officers, the officer who was dealing with us said softly up close to me in a in a very nasty tone, “Were not letting you leave,” I would always ignore such comments, well after the long wait as I continued to keep my cool the bus came, time to put the cuffs on for the ride to Robinsons Unit where we would be staying overnight.
I was lined up outside the chow hall when an officer made it plain that he was referring to me, he had walked up to me then turned to other officers and prisoners and said, “ if they spring him we’ll tear him up” well needless to say I had never made parole, and had served the full nine years, and after being tore up for all those previous years, they were still to continue unmercifully even when on my way to discharge.
I would just like to ask you, how you think they could tear me up unless my claims are true that is, but now I am discharging, and my focus is on making that gate.
Robinsons
The bus ride was the same as the others, but I was on my way out and that made it better, we arrived at Robinsons Unit, we were off loaded and filed inside, our property was put in the usual little room to be stored overnight, I had been to Robinsons Unit a few times by now, all we could take to our cells was a fan if you had one, it was hot and I mean hot, the summer in Britain is nothing in comparison.
The next morning, time to collect our property, the officer told us that overnight they had inventoried some of our properties and that they never had time to do everyone’s, this is something they never do on overnight stop over because it is done on arrival at the Walls, and before leaving Allred.
Robinsons was only an overnight stop, they do not inventory overnighters, the threats were made even at Robinsons Unit, even while waiting outside for the bus to go to the Walls, I was never going to make it out, this was shouted to me from a window “You’re never going to make it out” well when I got my property it was much lighter than before, yes it was very obvious that things were missing, nothing I could do but wait and check it out at the Walls.
The bus arrived and the journey was on again, still I kept cool, but it was hot and tense, we arrived at the Walls, it is a very long journey, Texas is a very big State.
We arrived at the Walls unit and I was told what my cell was and then they did a property check, the waiting game continued, and I noticed that the other prisoners had their commissary bags, the chain bags were for prisoners who did not have a bag, but I had a bag but was not allowed it, I was once again being singled out and victimized by the system, but eventually I got to my cell.
I was very thankful to have a good celli, he would let me listen to his radio at times, and I had the use of a fan at least for the first day or so, this was a Thursday and I was due to leave the following Thursday, the little coffee I did have was to last me as I wouldn’t be able to make store there, I had brought stamps with me in case I needed to trade for anything, stamps was the main currency we would use to trade with, and so I could buy from other prisoners.
Well the first thing I wanted to do was check my property fully, and yes my Magazine was gone, and all my book material/magazines, I was mad as you can imagine, the officers at Robinson Unit had stolen my stuff for their boss, I stayed cool, but what type of people were these I thought?
I was blessed with a good celli and that was something, I have to count my blessings for, I am very thankful for and to the good people in the system, so long as there are good people around there will also be hope. And I hoped I would keep this celli for the week, he was waiting to go any day on a release program, so I suppose I was being a little selfish, I know that he noticed what was going on, but anyone would have to be blind not to, and they would not two me up with just anyone, everyone was selected, but I knew they had to put on a show.
On our way to the chow hall which meant a walk outside, the door to the death chamber was pointed out to me, they carried out the death penalty at the Walls Unit, and a guy was to be executed in the morning, I suppose that was another way of giving me the same message of death, or trying to freak me out, and crack my mind, a guy was to be executed at 6am the following morning, maybe that’s why I was sent a week early.
Friday, the execution took place at 6am. But life goes on for the rest of us, and things were the same at the Walls as all the other places I had been, the officers made their comments and I still kept my cool and endured the best that I could.
The week came to the end, it was my time to leave, I was to be handed over to the custody of immigration, the waiting game went on, I sat waiting for the cell door to open, it was time, and my celli noticed that the cell wasn’t being opened, he looked at me and I said to him “they have to let me go”, it’s my day, the 27th July 2006, my discharge day.
The door opened and I went down to be sorted, I asked if by any chance did Allred send a bag for me, and they said no, even my celli had told me that commissary bags were still allowed on the bus, and some even took two bags, also that they never do inventory checks at Robinsons because it is only an overnight stop, that officer had lied and had also stolen my property that was to be forwarded to me. These people are, very hateful, spiteful, vindictive, and jealous, they don’t care because they have no mercy or compassion.
My discharge process was to take place, a female officer called me up and told me what my charge was, the aggravated was still on, I could not believe it; they had gone back on what the plea agreement was.
Well eventually I’m taken to wait for the immigration officers, I had to change out of the white prison uniform into civilian clothes which were sorted by prisoners from a bag of clothes which were donated and for some stamps they would give you better clothes, I got the worst possible, but what else could I expect.
I was then placed under arrest and served the warrant, I was now in the custody of the Immigration, I was now a detainee of Immigration.
Most deportees were Hispanic, Texas being on the Mexican border, there were some other prisoners being handed over also.
We were then cuffed and led outside to a small van, I was discharged from prison, served all of my time but I still wasn’t free. I walked out the door of the walls unit, I should have been relieved, and in one way I was, but in another I wasn’t, I even found myself scanning the rooftops for any snipers, things still were not right.
I had been told by a prisoner in S dorm about his offense, how he was a money man and therefor along with money he had a gun in his case, when he came home he found his young Hispanic wife in bed with someone else and so he took his gun out and shot the guy, then as his wife tried to run he shot her in the back and she fell through the window, he then put the gun down and called the police.
His attorney found a judge and paid him $100.000 to give a lighter sentence and he also made parole and had another young Hispanic lady waiting for him. He also told me that he also played the field and had other women.
He did less of a sentence that me, plus made parole because he had money. That is the Justice System in a nutshell.