Print SAN FRANCISCO — By age 46 Bob Williams had spent more than half his life in isolation Williams was 18 when he raped and murdered 40-year-old Mary Breck at her Kern County home in October 1994 he had broken into Breck’s home and stolen her credit cards He returned — initially with the intention of giving the items back he said — but instead brutally assaulted and strangled Breck leaving her gasping for air in her bedroom before he went back to finish the killing He was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to death Williams had spent his youth cycling through juvenile hall and foster homes getting sent to San Quentin “was the best thing that ever happened to me.” A condemned inmate is led to his cell on San Quentin’s death row (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times) “I went to prison with the idea of find some kind of forgiveness if it was available,” Williams said Williams was uprooted from his solitary world and transferred to a prison in San Diego County he would eat with other men and walk among them in the prison yard Newsom’s directive to dismantle death row did not alter the sentences for condemned men and women Hundreds of death row inmates from San Quentin have been scattered among two dozen institutions across the state while the 18 condemned women who had been housed in the isolated death row at the Central California Women’s Facility in Chowchilla were moved into general population housing at the same prison The transfers ushered in new freedoms for the inmates who on death row typically spent more than 20 hours a day in single cells covered with metal mesh that filtered out sunlight They were handcuffed and escorted by armed guards anytime they left their cells They largely ate alone and exercised in small groups access to classes and rehabilitative programming passing out some of his books and giving a guitar to one friend He packed his Bibles and prayer books and a few pieces of prison-approved clothing Then he boarded a van and traveled roughly 12 hours south to the Richard J Donovan Correctional Facility in San Diego County where he found meaningful work as a chapel clerk A condemned inmate makes a phone call from his cell on San Quentin’s death row (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times) Williams marveled at the coastal sunsets and stopped to pick grass in the prison yard just so he could smell it he played softball and basketball like he was a teenager again welcoming the body pains that came with vigorous exercise And many of the guards and other inmates seemed wary of sharing space with men sentenced to death “Death row was voted [on] by the people of the state of California. And one individual, the governor, by a swipe of a pen decided to take it away and end it,” said Patricia Wenskunas, founder of Crime Survivors Inc. “He revictimized all of those family members that were promised and told that that individual would face death.” Though perhaps unintended, it was this provision that allowed the Newsom administration to empty death row. And, on paper at least, state prison officials have touted the transfers as a success. They note that hundreds of condemned inmates have contributed more than $229,000 in restitution since January 2020, when the transfers began. Seventy percent of the transferred inmates are now taking part in rehabilitative programs, according to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. More than 330 are enrolled in educational courses, and 263 are involved in self-help classes. On the other hand, 99 condemned inmates have faced discipline “for serious violations,” according to the department. Still, officials said, most of the transferred prisoners are showing a decline in disciplinary points on their records, which means “they’re engaging in programming options and have generally good behavior.” California the state’s oldest and most notorious prison Step one is changing the relationship between incarcerated people and their guards the transfers have brought a broad variety of experiences and emotions Many had grown accustomed to the solitude of death row its stale smell and the frequent rants from inmates in mental health crisis Some condemned inmates still live in single cells in their new accommodations but others have been assigned cellmates or live in dormlike settings So the transition has meant adjusting to group settings and all they entail: more people was sentenced to death for a 2006 gang-related murder in L.A He has struggled in his first year at California State Prison Solano where he was transferred to bring him closer to his wife Transferring into the general prison population has meant interacting with young guys (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times) Death row was harsh and many of his fellow prisoners had grown old behind bars Moving to the general population meant interacting with young guys Bernoudy said he got into an altercation with some younger inmates last summer They don’t want to do nothing to help themselves,” he said of the younger guys Bernoudy hasn’t been given a job yet or enrolled in any classes so his days now don’t look much different than they did during his decade at San Quentin Everyone on death row used the same nail clipper that a guard would hand them when they went to the shower inmates can buy their own razors and nail clippers from the canteen was sentenced to death in 1984 for the murders of more than half a dozen people along Northern California hiking trails (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times) Among the condemned prisoners who have been transferred are people convicted of some of the most monstrous crimes in California history David Carpenter was sentenced to death in 1984 for the murders of more than half a dozen people along Northern California hiking trails between 1979 and 1981, a gruesome rampage that earned him the nickname Trailside Killer Carpenter is California’s oldest condemned inmate In interviews conducted by text in the spring of 2024 Carpenter said he was looking forward to his transfer to the California Health Care Facility in Stockton “The main reason for all of us is the FREEDOM [we] will be able to experience,” he wrote He said he now gets a hot breakfast every day and enjoys much more time on the yard He enrolled in a computer education program and is seeking out opportunities for interaction A guard stands watch on San Quentin’s death row (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times) In September Carpenter contracted COVID-19 and fell seriously ill He was moved to an isolation unit for several days and recovered when more than a dozen death row inmates died as COVID swept through the ward “All of us San Quentin inmates see being here as being in a retirement home environment,” Carpenter said Raynard Cummings also said life was better since he left San Quentin Last year, with the prospects of transfers looming, Cummings told The Times he was hoping to be sent to a prison that was wheelchair accessible and where he could get physical therapy for his arthritis. But he was also prepared for a more confrontational relationship with the guards. “They’re going to see I’m in here for a cop killing, and they all feel some kind of way about it,” he said. Last spring, Cummings was sent to a high-security yard at the state prison in Lancaster. When he arrived, Cummings said, he was mesmerized at seeing a full moon for the first time since 1983. But he’s been put off by what he describes as a general sense of chaos. As of late fall, Cummings said he had not found a job or enrolled in any rehabilitative groups. Still, he was glad to be out of San Quentin. “San Quentin was 10 times, a million times worse,” he said. “And they knew they could get away with it, because we were the worst of the worse, the despicable of the despicable.” Like many of the condemned inmates, Cummings already has been transferred a second time, part of the ongoing prisoner shuffle as corrections officials manage space constraints and inmate security classifications. This year, he was transferred to High Desert State Prison in Lassen County. Sarinana and her husband were convicted in 2009 of killing their 11-year-old nephew, Ricky Morales, on Christmas Day 2005 in Riverside County. Sarinana’s husband admitted to beating the boy before he died, and she was accused of ongoing abuse. Soon after Ricky was found dead, investigators found the body of his 13-year-old brother, Conrad, encased in concrete in a trash can in the family’s carport. Sarinana said that her behavior was the byproduct of years of physical and emotional abuse by her husband. She agrees that she should be in prison, although she does not think she deserved a death sentence. More than anything, she said, she should have done more to protect her nephews. “I still should have tried. And I live with that guilt every day,” she said. Inmate Cathy Sarinana, left, worried about the judgment condemned women would face when moved off death row. “Everyone here has done crazy stuff,” Sarinana says. (Gina Ferazzi / Los Angeles Times) But on death row, Sarinana said, she found the acceptance she’d long craved. The condemned women enjoyed a bit more freedom than the men at San Quentin, largely because there were so few of them. They were allowed to congregate in the unit outside their cells for some portion of each day. She reminisced about the potlucks the women would throw to mark holidays. They had access to big pots of water they could heat with electric rods. At Christmas, they made tamales. For Thanksgiving, Sarinana would make rolls filled with meat and cheese. And to celebrate the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, they fashioned fascinator hats out of cardboard and glitter. Sarinana left the row in March 2024. She was transferred to a medical unit on the prison campus that accommodates prisoners, such as herself, who use wheelchairs. She worried about the judgment the condemned women would face. Many had killed children, their husbands — or both. “Everyone here has done crazy stuff,” Sarinana said. “We were worried about being shunned.” Efforts to reform life inside the walls of the Central California Women’s Facility in Chowchilla are making headway. But most female prisoners have experienced levels of trauma that make it hard to build trust. It took months to acclimate to being around so many people. And after years of being cuffed when she left her cell, she didn’t know how to use her hands. Turning doorknobs was difficult. But over time, Sarinana has warmed to her new environment. She works as a group facilitator with Velda Dobson-Davis, a retired chief deputy warden who now volunteers at the women’s prison, running programs focused on trauma. Sarinana still has moments when she misses death row. Last Christmas, she was dealing with a difficult bout of depression. She remembered the games the women played during the holidays and their elaborate meals. “I still crave that place,” she said. “It’s morbid.” As time passes, he finds himself wishing Newsom would do something more for condemned prisoners, especially those who were his age when they were sentenced. “I’m kind of at a point of, either execute me or tell me you’re not going to,” he said. He allows himself to nurture a sliver of hope that one day he could be resentenced and released. But he’s still at peace with the notion of dying behind bars — whether from age, or execution. “I’ve come face to face with it, and I’ve looked it in the eye,” he said. “And I found life.” Times researcher Cary Schneider contributed to this report. Hannah Wiley is a former reporter for the Los Angeles Times. Subscribe for unlimited accessSite Map (FOX26) — Changes are ongoing for what is now known as the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center Governor Gavin Newsom announced changes to the prison into a rehabilitation facility Speaking alongside employees of the prison and other leaders Governor Newsom says this transformed area will focus on rehabilitation and education "And so for us this is about real public safety this is about keeping communities safe,” Governor Newsom said “This is about getting serious about addressing the issue of crime and violence in our state but doing things differently and acknowledging as was said by many speakers with humility that we have failed for too long." But it's not just the governor who is speaking for this project California Department Of Corrections And Rehabilitation Secretary Jeff Macomber gave his take on the impacts the renovation will have "The establishment of this new rehabilitative center marks a pivotal step toward fostering genuine transformation in our correctional system,” Macomber said “We are not just rebuilding walls but constructing pathways to restoration and rehabilitation for those in our care.” But this idea isn't coming without a hefty price the budget for the project was priced out at $360 million in the Budget Act of 2023 The price was changed to a lower price that December But when looking at other options the governor says rebuilding in the location the prison is at would be a better long term solution for everyone involved instead of building it in a new location entirely "We felt we would fall backwards in terms of being able to build something else back up,” Governor Newsom said “There are a thousand plus prisoners already at this facility actively engaged in their own rehabilitation To have disrupted that I think would have created more problems and set actually the cause back So for us the dollars and cents of this are about a longer term strategy to significantly reduce taxpayers burden and costs in terms of proving a model and program of rehabilitation that can be an international model." To see the full timeline of the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center transformation, click here. Governor Newsom’s curious obsession with overhauling San Quentin State Prison is now becoming a reality as the notorious prison is getting a farmers market which would likely be pounced on by a Republican opponent in any national campaign consistent with Newsom’s current political identity Newsom’s new vision for San Quentin prison comes with podcast studios Newsom has been on a kick for years to reform San Quentin, since he eliminated Death Row there, claiming he would turn it into a “healing environment.” Now the Chronicle reports that construction is underway on Newsom’s newly imagined San Quentin and the paper describes the overhaul as turning the place into a “Nordic-style center for preparing incarcerated people to reenter life outside prison.” This Nordic-style prison model is a system used in Scandinavian countries that basically makes prisons nicer in hopes of making prisoners less likely to recommit crimes once they’re out Newsom is taking it a step further by actually hiring a Danish architecture firm to design the new buildings The Chronicle adds that one of Newsom’s goals is to “make good nutrition foundational to the San Quentin experience.” And the prison will be switched from a maximum security prison to a medium security prison about 1,000 of the facility’s 3,400 prisoners will be transferred out Prisoners will have their own rooms without beds The Newsom administration says this will ultimately save money as the state spends about $60,000 a year per prisoner at the facility because there’s so much security But aren’t we just sending prisoners to other facilities that have the same costs Newsom’s office oddly did not comment for the Chronicle article, and instead referred questions to the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, which is referring to this as their “California model.” “The holistic initiative leverages international data-backed best practices to improve the well-being of those who live and work at state prisons,” that department's spokesperson Todd Javernick told the Chronicle “The initiative’s goal is creating safer communities and a better life for all Californians by breaking cycles of crime for the incarcerated population while improving workplace conditions for institution staff.” There will of course be criticism that Newsom is going soft on criminals the Chron notes that many crime victims’ families say this money should be going to their healing instead of making San Quentin a “healing environment.” And there’s also pushback from prisoners’ families that to many incarcerated people will end up being shipped further away from their families all because of Newsom’s experimental pipe dreams construction on the new San Quentin is now underway It’s expected to be completed in January 2026 at which point new prisoners will start moving in and maybe those podcasts will start getting posted shortly thereafter Related: MC Hammer Pays A Visit To San Quentin [SFist] CALIFORNIA - JUNE 29: A view of San Quentin State Prison on June 29 San Quentin State Prison is continuing to experience an outbreak of coronavirus COVID-19 cases with over 1,000 confirmed cases amongst the staff and inmate population San Quentin had zero cases of COVID-19 prior to a May 30th transfer of 121 inmates from a Southern California facility that had hundreds of active cases 13 COVID-19-related deaths An Asian supermarket chain out of Canada will be taking over the long vacant former Best Buy space in San Francisco's City Center complex years after Whole Foods was supposed to be moving in Che Fico chef-partner David Nayfeld is promising a "more dressed up version of a restaurant than we’ve ever done before" at his new 8,000-square-foot restaurant in the base of Visa's new Mission Rock headquarters Get the latest posts delivered right to your inbox editor / reporter who has been published in almost every San Francisco publication Get all the latest & greatest posts delivered straight to your inbox Official website of the State of California What you need to know: Governor Newsom announced that the demolition of the former warehouse is now complete – clearing the way for construction to begin on the new San Quentin Rehabilitation Center’s educational complex commenced to help improve access to the secure facility SACRAMENTO – Governor Newsom’s project to reimagine and transform San Quentin State Prison — the oldest and most notorious prison in California and previous home to the largest “death row” in the United States —  has reached a significant milestone and construction of the new education facility to improve public safety will soon begin transformed San Quentin from a maximum-security prison into the “San Quentin Rehabilitation Center,” a one-of-a-kind facility focused on improving public safety through rehabilitation and education never pursued at this scale in the United States will serve as a nationwide evidence-backed model to advance a more effective justice system that builds safer communities With the demolition of the prison’s previous furniture factory construction of the new educational and vocational center will begin this fall work also began to demolish an interior wall which has separated portions of the facility since 1856 will open up the new complex to the existing institution and create a campus-like feel The removal of the internal barrier has no impact on the facility’s security Initial demolition of the interior South Wall dividing the secure facility “The establishment of this new rehabilitative center marks a pivotal step toward fostering genuine transformation in our correctional system,” said California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation Secretary Jeff Macomber “We are not just rebuilding walls but constructing pathways to restoration and rehabilitation for those in our care.”  Governor Newsom announced the project would be led by the San Quentin Transformation Advisory Council which includes stakeholders including  CDCR staff they presented a unified concept: an inviting campus-like space that encourages rehabilitation The buildings will support incarcerated individuals with educational and job training opportunities including high-tech and innovative classroom space The construction project is part of a systemwide change called the California Model a transformation effort instituted at multiple state prisons throughout California The model improves public safety by breaking cycles of crime for the incarcerated population while improving workplace conditions for institution staff through rehabilitation Valley State Prison piloted the California Model before the model was expanded to seven other facilities Press Releases, Public Safety, Recent News News What you need to know: The Governor honored the contributions of fallen California law enforcement officers at the annual California Peace Officers’ Memorial Ceremony California – Honoring the contributions of fallen California peace officers,.. News What you need to know: California applied to the federal government today to update the state's benchmark plan which would expand coverage requirements for essential health benefits (EHBs) like hearing aids and wheelchairs in the individual and small group.. News What you need to know: California remains the #1 state for tourism with record-high tourism spending reaching $157.3 billion in 2024 the Trump administration’s policies and rhetoric are driving away tourists © Copyright document.write(new Date().getFullYear()) While serving a 57-year sentence for voluntary manslaughter at California’s San Quentin prison Tommy Wickerd found purpose in an unexpected way: teaching fellow incarcerated people and corrections officers American Sign Language Growing up with a deaf older brother, Wickerd witnessed the isolation of a world without proper accommodations. So when legal advocates won a 2019 petition to move a group of deaf men from underresourced prisons to program-rich San Quentin “There’s 90-plus people that have learned sign language here,” said Wickerd who is currently up for resentencing on grounds of “exceptional conduct.” “In this last class three incarcerated deaf people taught the class with COVID-19 delays in filming and distribution The documentary debuted at the San Francisco Documentary Festival in June 2023 and has since been screened at the Atlanta Film Festival the Arts in Action Festival and the Double Exposure Film Festival Thomas discusses the origins of “Friendly Signs,” the challenges of prison filmmaking and the power of incarcerated people telling their own stories I was tired of people coming in and taking our stories I noticed something: Y’all were winning awards And the common denominator wasn’t the filmmakers; it was a different one every time I started realizing there was power in our stories I felt like our stories shouldn’t just be told about us It came organically from knowing Tommy Wickerd and getting updates from him about the progress of the deaf community [deaf men] at Corcoran prison were being disproportionately murdered It got so bad that the Prison Law Office petitioned for [a cohort] of them to be moved to San Quentin because it was a better environment Everybody at San Quentin knew Tommy knew sign language it was nothing but COs being briefed on how to treat deaf people He decided he was going to start his class I realized that deaf people were even more invisible within an already invisible population I met Tommy through the 1000 Mile Club [a volunteer-led running program] that we were members of. He was different — like every New Year’s, he would pay for and make burritos to give out to any runner who showed up that day He’s also one of the few White people with tattoos all over his head who can go through the Black section, and it’s all love I wanted to show society an example of someone they were taught to fear and why we have to look deeper than just what a person was convicted of Compared to facilities that don’t have media centers at all San Quentin has a lot of options for making films You have to rely on the power of your storytelling because the scenery is going to be the same as what we’ve seen in someone else’s film You also have to get advance permission for every shot you do you need a [staff] escort to film in areas outside of the media center I could only work on “Friendly Signs” during certain hours we didn’t have access to the media center at all when I got frustrated with stuff like that happening you’re in prison for a homicide; filmmaking isn’t even supposed to be possible alhamdulillah.” Then I’d get it done when it was supposed to get done I asked Christine Yoo, a San Quentin volunteer who directed and produced the documentary “26.2 to Life” to mentor me in the filmmaking process I was able to get the grant from The Marshall Project and the Sundance Institute Even though I wasn't allowed to receive funds while incarcerated the grant allowed me to hire an outside crew to film the external shots The coloring and the sound design also happened on the outside On the inside, I worked with my director of photography, Brian Asey Gonsoulin He would wake up in the middle of the night with a shot he wanted to do The editing was on Final Cut at San Quentin we couldn’t use the media center for a year We got permission to move a computer to the education hallway “Don’t be telling stories about us if you’re not with us.” So I needed to put myself in the shoes of someone deaf and put the audience in that mindframe I just started looking around and [trying to] figure out I realized that the only friendly signs deaf people were seeing were the ones Tommy was throwing up And people throw up a lot of unfriendly signs in prison The relationships you have with other people in prison makes them open up to you You know what’s really going on in there and what questions to ask No one else has that kind of inside knowledge I’m working on a follow-up called “Silent Treatment” that focuses on incarcerated deaf people’s fight for equality and inclusion Spoiler alert: What really worked better than the lawsuits was the community-building through the sign language class only able to talk to themselves in their own little groups and huddles *Post has been updated since publication to reflect that "America ReFramed" is a WORLD channel series Plus, we'll sit down with SFUSD Superintendent Dr. Maria Su to hear the latest on San Francisco public schools. If you want to attend an upcoming town hall with Dr. Su you can find info here Then, we'll meet Enzo and Adam, the two speedrunners who set a record by hitting all 50 BART stations in just over 5 hours. Hosts: Grace Won and Fred PittsProducers: Wendy Holcombe, Christ Nooney and Heather Hughes Tap to enable a layout that focuses on the article Print SAN FRANCISCO — In early 2020 Albert Jones was sitting in his cell on San Quentin’s death row as he had every day for nearly three decades when reports of a mysterious respiratory illness started to circulate Jones kept detailed journals chronicling his anxiety over catching the “killer virus.” And when he did contract COVID “I Survived COVID-19” is one of several books that inmate Albert Jones has self-published during his years on death row (Courtesy of Albert Jones) “The world is on lock-down This state is on full lock down,” Jones wrote at the start of the pandemic (The entries quoted in this article appear with the punctuation and spelling used in the journals.) “This disease is spreading so fast people don’t know what to do so staying in their home is all they can do and watch T.V “Scott was my next door neighbor for 12 years,” Jones wrote that summer referencing rapist and murderer Scott Thomas Erskine who died in July 2020 after contracting the virus “We had just showered and the nurse gave him his medications and then they see how pale his skin was and loss of weight so they took his oxygen level and it was 62 so they took him out of his cell and put him on oxygen and rolled him off Jones published a memoir he titled “I Survived COVID-19,” one of 10 books — two of them collections of prison recipes — that he has written during his years behind bars was sentenced to death in 1996 for the brutal double murder of an elderly couple during a robbery in their Mead Valley home but maintains his innocence and continues to work with his attorneys on new grounds for appeal an event expected to draw curators from museums and research institutions “There is no other archive like this in existence,” said Ben Kinmont the Sebastopol bookseller representing Jones in the sale Condemned inmate Albert Jones has written two cookbooks featuring recipes that can be made in a prison-sanctioned electric pot (Courtesy of Albert Jones) Jones’ books — chronicling his gang life in Compton his spiritual journey as a condemned man and recipes doable with a prison-sanctioned electric pot — make up the bulk of the collection But the archive also includes personal items a broken wristwatch and his “prison eye,” a strip of cardboard with a piece of reflective plastic attached to the end that prisoners would stick through the bars of their cells to see whether guards were coming Jones said the collection stems from his efforts to leave a record of his incarceration and a hope that his daughter and grandchildren might remember him as something more than a prisoner a human being that made mistakes,” Jones said “I didn’t understand what I was going to do with the rest of my life California hasn’t executed a prisoner since 2006, and Newsom issued a moratorium on the practice in 2019. Last year, Jones was transferred out of San Quentin after Newsom ordered prison officials to dismantle death row and integrate the condemned prisoners into the general populations at other state institutions Jones is now housed at California State Prison The fact that San Quentin’s death row is in effect extinct makes Jones’ work historically relevant Bookseller Ben Kinmont says he marveled at how Albert Jones’ first cookbook included not only recipes collected from men on death row but also directions for how to enjoy meals “together.” (Hannah Wiley / Los Angeles Times) As a bookseller who specializes in works about food and wine written from the 15th century to early 19th century Kinmont wasn’t exactly looking for a death row client when Jones wrote him a few years ago looking for help in selling his first cookbook “Our Last Meals?” But the pitch came at an opportune moment Kinmont was exploring the relationship that people living in poverty have to food and the value of coming together for a meal Working with Jones seemed an interesting avenue for probing that theme Kinmont marveled at how Jones’ cookbook included not only recipes collected from men on death row but also directions for how to enjoy meals “together.” His gumbo recipe calls for two pouches each of smoked clams oysters and mackerel along with white rice and throw the mixture into an electric pot with a sausage link Jones would transfer individual servings into plastic bags A prisoner from a cell above would send fishing line down to Jones who would tie up the bag and send it back up “These guys are asserting their humanity through trying to prepare food as best they can through the care package system that’s available to them,” Kinmont said Kinmont ultimately sold the cookbook to UC Berkeley’s Bancroft Library for $20,000 Jones has used his time in prison as an opportunity for growth and earned his college degree behind bars (Courtesy of Albert Jones) Jones said he made about $14,000 off the sale — a far cry from the occasional proceeds that trickle in from one of the self-published books he offers for $15 on Amazon Jones sent some of the money to his daughter and grandchildren in Georgia and bought new prison garb for himself and friends he put together gift bags with hygiene products for dozens of men living in his unit he hopes to use his cut to open a trust fund for his four grandchildren and help his daughter buy a house “so now it’s time for me to start blessing other people.” the arrangement raises ethical questions about who should benefit from work prisoners do behind bars Jones was convicted of hog-tying and stabbing to death James Florville, 82, and his wife, Madalynne Florville, 72, during a 1993 home invasion. California previously prohibited prisoners from financially benefiting from selling their crime stories, but in 2002, the state Supreme Court struck down that law after The Times contacted her for comment on this article a spokesperson for the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation said the agency had not been informed about a contract to sell Jones’ books and would alert the Florvilles’ family members She cited a provision of the state penal code that requires the prison system to “notify registered victims or their families in cases where an incarcerated person enters into a contract to sell the story of their crime.” members of the Florville family expressed outrage at the notion of Jones profiting from his prison writing “What makes him get the right to write any book?” said the couple’s daughter-in-law reached at her home in Southern California My father-in-law would have given you the shirt off his back “I believe in an eye for an eye,” said Moore’s daughter I sit and think about my grandparents and what they went through.” Jones said his intention is not to get into details of his conviction but to provide his family a written record of his life and financially support them “If they feel that I’m doing the wrong thing for my grandkids there’s going to be those ones that say you shouldn’t receive this Jones’ prison writings recount his childhood in Compton his spiritual journey as a condemned man and death row prison food (Courtesy of Albert Jones) Jones could have filed away his writings in a box to be shipped off to his family for their private consumption perhaps sparing the Florville family more pain But by making them available to a research institution the public might get a better understanding of California’s death row Jones reflects on news that one of his friends died by suicide after a stint in solitary confinement: “He was in a cell for 14 days as punishment for whatever but you’re supposed to get 10 days in that cell “I don’t know if you can go to heaven if you killed yourself but I pray that he made it and that his family is at rest associate curator of the California and Hispanic collections at the Huntington Library in San Marino said the archive could be useful for scholars for many reasons including to better understand prison culture It’s part of the human experience,” Godoy said “And I think it’s worth preserving stuff like this and having it available for people to consult.” Kinmont spent a recent afternoon packing up boxes with Jones’ work The materials seemed wildly out of place in Kinmont’s office where hundreds of antique books lined towering shelves His hope is that Jones’ archive might show the world what kind of artistry and human connection is possible in a place designed to crush creativity and, ultimately, execute people. “I’m not saying Albert’s a saint. I’m not in a position to say that,” Kinmont said. “But I will say that he has accomplished something which very, very few people have.” As for Jones, he’s already diving into his next project, a book about his prison transfer out of San Quentin. He plans to title it: “Free at Last, free at Last. But I’m Still Condemned.” Dear Reader,Unfortunately our comment platform isn\'t available at the moment due to issues with our paywall and authentication vendor Former San Quentin prisoner Albert “Ru-Al” Jones reached out to Ben Kinmont five years ago looking for help the pair are seeking $80,000 for Jones’ manuscripts What was life like on San Quentin’s death row Ben Kinmont, an antique bookseller and project artist in Sebastopol hadn’t thought much about it until a couple of years ago it isn’t every day someone who specializes in selling rare food and recipe books crosses paths with a death row inmate “It’s an entirely different world,” Kinmont said So I didn’t ever really think about this world.” But the opportunity arose when Albert Ru-Al Jones a onetime gang member turned former San Quentin death-row inmate Jones had been in prison for more than 20 years and penned four books about life on death row detailing the daily grind of his days in a 5-foot by 9-foot cell Now Kinmont, in a move that’s sparked controversy and drawn national attention, is selling the original manuscripts of Jones’ entire collection on Jones’ behalf “I’m Ru-Al from the Athens Park Bloods … I welcome you behind these walls with me,” the 10-book archive also includes private journals drawings and personal objects from Jones’ time in San Quentin Kinmont showcased the archive at the 65th New York International Antiquarian Book Fair held at the Park Avenue Armory in Manhattan on April 5 and 6 While there wasn’t an immediate buyer for the collection Kinmont was surprised by young book fair attendees who were moved to tears by the archive they were struck by the size of the cell he lived in,” said Kinmont whose exhibit for the archive included a five-by-nine-foot taped-off “cell.” “It really gave people that visual image of what it was like for Albert,” he said to be killed by lethal injection in 1996 after a jury found him guilty of hog-tying and fatally stabbing James Florville Jones has staunchly maintained he didn’t commit the crime and said the process of appealing the conviction remains ongoing California prison officials transferred Jones to the state prison in Sacramento Coexisting and condemned,” Jones said in an interview from the California State Prison This is the second time that Kinmont has represented Jones’ work he sold the original manuscript of Jones’ first cookbook 25 years: San Quentin Death Row cookbook 2,” to the UC Berkeley Bancroft Library for $20,000 “The voice of the prisoner is rarely heard There’s still not that much out there about what they experience,” Kinmont said “Albert not only put it on paper but looked at it from so many experiences and points of view.” For example: In “Spiritual Testimonies of All Faiths,” Jones shares how faith and spirituality differ among death row prisoners and how they helped serve to ground many of his fellow inmates “I wanted to challenge these guys to open up about their faith,” Jones said ‘Wow these guys really did open up to me.’” In “I Survived COVID-19,” Jones also shares how the COVID-19 pandemic killed part of the East Block inmate population and left many others scared for their lives “I was locked in a cage with a killer in my body,” Jones said I would watch my neighbor go out and never come back.” He also relied on fellow inmates to enhance his writing Most of the original manuscripts in the archive include drawings from other San Quentin death row prisoners Cory “Skoundrel” Williams and Joey “Rockhead” Perez by sending “kites” — secret messages sent on dental floss or typewriter ribbon and a hook made from the cartridge of a ballpoint pen — back and forth “Being in a 5-by-9 cell all those hours and all those years can take a toll on someone’s body and mind,” Jones said “Writing and drawing was my sense of peace.” eventually sending out pieces to family and friends through the prison’s mail system Jones tried to publish and sell his work on his own “I wasn’t thinking of no profit,” Jones said This is about putting everything on a canvas.” He gets that not everyone thinks he should get the chance family members of James and Madalynne Florville are among those who have taken issue with Jones profiting from his death-row collection “I believe in an eye for an eye,” Rena MacNeil, granddaughter of the Florvilles, told the LA Times Replies Jones: “I understand where they was coming from They lost their family members and I feel sympathy for them.” “Why shouldn’t a person better himself when they’re at the bottom of the barrel in the prison system “I am in the harshest conditions a person can be kept You can’t get no lower than this,” he said “But I am one of the ones who is doing something with his life.” Kinmont said he isn’t there to judge whether Jones is guilty He’ll even say he doesn’t want to be “a prison archive guy.” Although California has had a moratorium on executions since 2019 and has not conducted an execution since 2006 there are still 613 inmates within the California State Prison sentenced who have been sentenced to death the state has more than twice as many death row inmates as the next state “I’m there for the art and the writing,” he said But you can tell from the way Kinmont talks about Jones and his case and you can hear the passion and frustration in his voice when he discusses the state’s prison system that there’s more to their relationship than a simple business transaction Kinmont will keep a portion of proceeds should the archive sell.) “When you look at the statistics of prisoners in the California system it’s totally disproportionate,” Kinmont said “It skews toward people of color and people who come from poverty “And I speak to Albert and start to understand it That’s one of the reasons Kinmont thinks Jones’ work and voice are more pertinent than ever noting that California’s death row population leads the nation which had the second highest number of prisoners at 289 “When you look at death row and incarceration California has three to four times more inmates than [other states],” Kinmont said “So this is a very interesting moment for this kind of material.” “In the context of Donald Trump and the DEI [diversity this [type of work] is even more crucial,” Kinmont said But Kinmont said the current political climate is a double-edge sword He said while Jones’ voice has the power to tamp down some of the Trump administration’s efforts it's that very power that is causing some prospective buyers “It’s definitely a big topic of conversation right now They’re concerned about what they’re acquiring,” he said But Jones is hoping institutions see his work for the potential political and cultural impact “I think and I hope that history will tell of the impact I will have made in the prison system the political arena and the legal system,” Jones said “Put on the shelf to die,” written 2003-2006 “I’m in God’s confinement,” written 2007-2009 “Spiritual testimonies of all faith,” written 2018-2019 25 years: San Quentin Death Row cookbook 2,” written 2023 “I thank you: the last chapter,” written 2024 Titles and dates provided by Albert Jones and Ben Kinmont Amie Windsor is the Community Journalism Team Lead with The Press Democrat She can be reached at amie.windsor@pressdemocrat.com or 707-521-5218 This deeply moving film follows the maximum-security detainees training to run a marathon The 1000 Mile Club, as the runners are known, are trained by a group of volunteers led by Franklin Ruona, an experienced marathon man himself. A naturally quiet and watchful soul, he doesn’t talk to the men about their crimes unless they want to. His view is that they are people who have not had his luck or advantages: “I just feel like I am my brother’s keeper,” he says. In the febrile prison atmosphere, he is an oasis of calm. originally sentenced to 55-to-life for second degree murder but gradually returning to his roots as a child who was a computer whiz and in the gifted class at school and throwing himself into work as a mentor journalist and participant in non-profit news organisation the Marshall Project In Tommy Wickerd (“Bullshit is what I believed in,” he says of his swastika tattoos) who is working hard towards his GED and repairing the damage his incarceration has done to his son the child of a horrifically abusive stepfather a talented high-school athlete (his participation in the San Quentin Marathon theoretically qualifies him for the Boston marathon) whose early experiences turned him into a violent drunk whose involvement in the death of a premature baby is hard to consider with equanimity There are points – during Markelle’s account of his crimes for instance – where you feel 26.2 to Life has a moral duty to push harder that it is in danger of letting the uplifting narrative (the power of sport to unite men the Corinthian spirit finding its way into the prison yard) exert too strong a pull it stays clear-eyed and crosses the finish line in fine form 26.2 to Life: Inside the San Quentin Prison Marathon aired on BBC Four in the UK and is on iPlayer now Spencer Burford and other members of the San Francisco 49ers took their annual Tony York Memorial visit to San Quentin State Prison to hold valuable discussions on social justice and meet with incarcerated men and their families With over 800 volunteer hours supporting more than 75 community groups the San Francisco 49ers made a difference throughout the Bay Area during the 2024 season Take a look back at how we made an impact together Watch as George Kittle gets surprised with the news that he is the NFL's 2024 Salute to Service Award recipient honoring his unwavering support for the military and his passionate commitment to those who serve Watch San Francisco 49ers LB Curtis Robinson be surprised by his teammates with the honor of being selected as the team's nominee for the Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year Award presented by Nationwide The John Lynch Foundation hosted a Christmas party presented by Gillette for the Boys & Girls Club of Silicon Valley and local military families at Levi's® Stadium to celebrate with food staff and their families celebrate the holiday season by supporting over 100 underserved families during the team's annual Hope for the Holidays event presented by U.S Curtis Robinson and other San Francisco 49ers players joined students for a reading discussion and interactive activity of \"I Can Be All Three\" by Salima Alikhan a book selected for its powerful message of celebrating our differences For the team's annual \"Feast with the Niners\" presented by Graton Casino event the 49ers hosted low-income and transitional housing families for a meal home resources and a shopping spree with players at Levi's® Stadium The San Francisco 49ers nominate tight end George Kittle for the 2024 Salute to Service Award which honors NFL players staff and alumni for their commitment to supporting military and veteran communities PepsiCo and the San Francisco 49ers are teaming up to support local restaurants in the Bay Area spotlighting diverse eateries like Araujo's Mexican Grill Join us from 12-1pm on November 1st for a special celebration and free lunch San Francisco 49ers players visited a local children's hospital to spend one-on-one time with patients and brighten the days for children and their families The San Francisco 49ers joined local cancer warriors to create artwork that symbolized strength and they later wore on custom Levi's® jackets to the team's Week 4 Crucial Catch matchup presented by Dignity Health San Francisco 49ers players sat with local middle to high school students from Kingmakers of Oakland East Oakland Youth Development Center and Urban Peace Movement to share wisdom and inspire the next generation San Francisco 49ers linebackers Curtis Robinson and Demetrius Flannigan-Fowles treated Bay Area educators with a back to school shopping spree thanks to Levi's® and Visa a lifelong San Francisco 49ers fan with a heart of gold Levi fulfilled his wish to meet his heroes the future defensive lineman and 4x Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year Award nominee overcame his struggle with reading and made it his mission to help others do the same through the Armstead Academic Project 49ers players embarked on an Inspire Change Cultural Tour presented by United Airlines at the San Jose African American Community Service Agency to explore Black-owned Bay Area small businesses Follow along with San Francisco 49ers quarterback Brock Purdy as he volunteers with his teammates at the 49ers Hope for the Holidays event presented by U.S The San Francisco 49ers invited formerly incarcerated men to Levi's® Stadium and visited San Quentin State Prison to hold valuable discussions on social justice and continue to learn how we can all Inspire Change San Francisco 49ers 2023 Walter Payton Man of the Year nominee Arik Armstead discusses what \"Inspire Change\" means to him through his organization defensive coordinator Steve Wilks surprised Arik Armstead with messages from the D-line congratulating him with his fourth-consecutive nomination for the Walter Payton NFL Man of the Year Award presented by Nationwide Over 25 San Francisco 49ers players dedicated their time to give back to their local community at CityTeam for the organization's annual \"Feast with the Niners\" event The San Francisco 49ers hosted military families and active-duty service members at the SAP Performance Facility for a behind-the-scenes practice visit presented by U.S San Francisco 49ers players visited a local children's hospital as superheroes to brighten the days of patients and nurses and give back to the community George Kittle has connected with veterans like Ramon and Mary from Operation Freedom Paws and used his platform to amplify their mission to empower veterans by creating lifesaving service dog teams discussion and interactive activity of "I Can Be All Three" by Salima Alikhan For the team's annual "Feast with the Niners" presented by Graton Casino event San Francisco 49ers 2023 Walter Payton Man of the Year nominee Arik Armstead discusses what "Inspire Change" means to him through his organization Over 25 San Francisco 49ers players dedicated their time to give back to their local community at CityTeam for the organization's annual "Feast with the Niners" event Two inmates at San Quentin State Prison were reunited with the black Labradors they helped raise and train to be service dogs as part of a prison puppy training program The incarcerated trainers also met the dogs’ disabled owners who is incarcerated at the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center holds a pair of service dogs in training in San Quentin The emotional reunion brought together Chase Benoit Jared Hansen and the 2-year-old dogs they helped train: Wendel and Artemis It was the men’s first time seeing their former canine companions again and their first time meeting the dogs’ disabled handlers in person The encounter Friday in San Quentin’s main courtyard brought Benoit and Hansen full circle after helping launch the prison’s puppy training program in April 2023 it’s given me something that I think I’ve searched for my whole life,” said Benoit who is serving 15 years-to-life for second-degree murder bigger than myself and feeling like I’m part of something great.” teared up after seeing his spirited dog Wendel bark and get excited when he saw Benoit AP’s Lisa Dwyer reports on a special service dog reunion at a prison that was once home to the largest death row population in the United States and that you have a bond,” Benoit told Quigley through an American Sign Language interpreter He’s very gentle and good with people,” answered Quigley a recent college graduate who took Wendel home in November after the black Labrador and golden retriever mix completed another six months of professional training outside prison Benoit and Jensen were part of an initial group of four incarcerated trainers who shared their 4 foot-by-10 foot cells with the 4-month-old puppies The men divided the responsibility of caring for and teaching the dogs foundational commands for a year and traveled to California for the reunion Handler Benjamin Carter looks at his service dog Artemis during a gathering at the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center in San Quentin Carter and Hansen shared notes on Artemis’ calm and loving personality and penchant for cuddles “Seeing him in action and actually serving somebody in the community it’s just … I’m at a loss for words right now who has been in prison for 15 years for bank robbery is seen by the wheelchair of handler Benjamin Carter at the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center in San Quentin fetches things around the house and does many other tasks that would be hard for Carter alone And all that structure and love and trust was built from these guys here so I’m just super grateful to them,” Carter said The puppies are placed with incarcerated trainers when the dogs are between 2 and 4 months of age and stay with them until they are about 16 to 17 months old Every three months the puppies are taken out for socialization experiences like interacting with children riding in cars or going to the grocery store The incarcerated men teach them about 20 skills they train for several more months with professional trainers People incarcerated at San Quentin and who participate in the program have been convicted of crimes that include bank robberies Only those who are in an “earned living unit,” where residents participate in an array of self-help programs Inmates with records that include any animal or child cruelty crimes are not allowed to participate national director of puppy programs for Canine Companions Dern said dogs trained in their prison programs have a 10% greater success rate at becoming service dogs than other candidates because of the amount of time and care that incarcerated puppy raisers put into their dogs and other incarcerated men at the San Quentin Rehabilitation Center hold up their dog training certificates during a celebration in San Quentin “Being given something to care about other than themselves and the opportunity to give back and to sort of start to make amends for the things they have done in their lives can be life changing,” Dern said San Quentin was once home to the largest death row population in the United States The puppy training program started the year it transformed into a lockup where less-dangerous prisoners receive education another 11 correctional facilities have joined the nonprofit for a total of 24 prison institutions Speaking to a crowd at the prison chapel gathered to celebrate the program Benoit credited Canine Companions with bringing out the humanity love and caring in the incarcerated community “Instead of keeping it to themselves within their small community of professional trainers or even volunteer puppy raisers they shared this with us in prison and I think that’s huge,” he said KQED Live EventsPRX Podcast Garage EventsEvents Around the Bay AreaMember Benefits with KQED LiveVideos from KQED LiveWatch recordings of recent KQED Live events FeaturedThat's My WordAn ongoing exploration of Bay Area hip-hop history See Senior Director of TV Programming Meredith Speight’s recommendations from this month’s KQED 9 Watch recordings of recent KQED Live events Support KQED by using your donor-advised fund to make a charitable gift Dee Dee Simon gets the golden buzzer during this summer's season of America's Got Talent  (Courtesy NBC/America's Got Talent)Oakland singer Dee Dee Simon’s story is an example of divine timing She’s impressing judges in Hollywood and healing people in prison she’s finally letting her light shine showing the world her talent and reaping the rewards On the heels of winning last November’s Amateur Night at The Apollo — earning a $20,000 check and joining a winner’s circle that spans Ella Fitzgerald to H.E.R — Dee Dee Simon was contacted by America’s Got Talent After singing for the judging panel of Simon Cowell “they all gave me a standing ovation and pushed me forward to go and be in the live show.” On stage, Simon showed and proved throughout the competition, and her amazing performance of Teddy Swim’s “Lose Control” garnered thunderous applause from the studio audience and Heidi Klum rang the show’s golden buzzer automatically propelling Simon to the competition’s final round it was her voice that impressed the judges “It became more intriguing to them that I work here,” says Simon during a recent phone call from San Quentin “Because I’ve been a death row nurse for 10 years.” Simon has worked at San Quentin for 19 years total a coworker learned about her vocal abilities and asked her to sing on the prison yard during a “Peace Day” event “I didn’t really notice the politics at the time,” says Simon discussing the makeup of the groups sitting together on the yard during the event she took to the stage and grabbed the microphone “I started singing ‘Killing Me Softly,'” Simon says referring to The Fugees 1996 remake of the classic Roberta Flack record the different groups in the audience had started fighting each other she quickly pivoted from vocalist to trained nurse: “I had to step off the stage and triage patients.” Simon never sang at the prison again — until earlier this year just after winning Amateur Night at The Apollo her performance was met with a much calmer response Simon has seen the prison go through significant transitions In 2006, just after she was hired, the healthcare situation was so dire inside the State of California’s overcrowded prison system that it was placed under federal receivership the COVID-19 pandemic posed an even more urgent threat to residents of the state’s prisons the prison faced a shortage of Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) for healthcare providers incarcerated people were being transferred to San Quentin from other institutions “These guys showed up with COVID,” says Simon In May of this year, the U.S. Supreme Court decided that due to a botched transfer of people from the California Institution for Men in Chino to San Quentin in 2020 the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation could potentially be held responsible for the deaths of 29 people Looking to usher in a new era at the institution, Gov. Newsom last year announced San Quentin’s new name, the “San Quentin Rehabilitation Center.” Simon says the changes are subtle The one major difference is that the former death row inmates are now lifers “Trying to integrate them into the general population can be tricky They’ve been by themselves in another unit,” says Simon I just work with the general population more now.” Before becoming a clinical nurse and working with hundreds of men behind bars The common thread between her work and her passion for singing Simon learned to sing using her hairbrush as a microphone in her bedroom and by performing at her mom’s house parties She eventually found a choir at Mills Grove Christian Church in East Oakland Now that she’s sharing her vocals with the world After one of her episodes of America’s Got Talent aired earlier this summer she went to work the next day and was met with a round of applause from the incarcerated men as she entered the housing unit “I have people from outside,” Simon says ‘Is Dee Dee Simon there?’” On the cusp of the America’s Got Talent season finale — the biggest evening of her career — Simon is grateful for the support from people at San Quentin, as well as everyone who has helped and prayed for her. If she wins (finale results air on Sept. 24), she wants to uplift the work of the Alzheimers Association She also wants to be an example to other artists “I want them to know that they don’t have to do something against their morals to make it,” says Simon “Everything will happen on their own time.” The final round of Season 19 of America’s Got Talent airs on Tuesday, Sept. 17; final results will be aired on Tuesday, Sept. 24. More information here America is disconnected from veterans and military families In a peaceful setting inside the chapel at San Quentin Rehabilitation Center 18 members from Veterans Group San Quentin who served in the Army and tell their stories at a four-day writing workshop held exclusively for incarcerated veterans at the 171-year-old prison these men shared moments of personal tragedy Their cumulative time in service totaled 126 years They represent a growing number of veterans missing in action at home these witnesses of vanished time have written remarkable stories about their lives “The first dead body I ever saw was my mother’s,” wrote Donald Edge Edge read snippets of his life story before a small crowd of fellow veterans The workshop was developed on the heels of California Gov Gavin Newsom’s focus on strengthening rehabilitation in prisons with the move to a Scandinavian model that Newsom’s office is calling a new California model I stumbled on to the second day of the workshop in April 2024 when Newsom and his entourage escorted Prince Haakon of Norway to San Quentin What I witnessed at the workshop was an assortment of honest and convincing soundbites and painful episodes in these veterans’ lives that have been altered and stifled by a frozen trajectory Edge wrote a striking story about leaving home at a very young age He stole to survive and trafficked drugs before joining the U.S He recalled seeing a poster in a recruiter’s office that advertised an amphibious military unit “I knew I wanted to be amphibious,” he said but I knew I wanted to be amphibious.” Everyone laughed A more sobering part of Edge’s life after four years of service as a Marine is the fact he has served the last 30 years inside the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation I was reminded that everyone who served has a backstory a nonprofit online publication focused on veterans’ issues brought its seventh workshop to San Quentin—the very first held for incarcerated veterans “There’s not enough military reporting around the world,” said Thomas Brennan “There’s a real need to increase representation of veterans and military families in the media.” “I got wounded and writing became my therapy I spoke to Brennan over a period of three days and was curious about the name of his publication He told me War Horse is the name of a unit in the military a foreign correspondent killed in action during World War II used the term “war horsing” when reporting “I stumbled on it and liked it,” said Brennan I like Brennan because he is serious about his mission to continue serving a seemingly invisible community I have known nine of the San Quentin workshop veterans between one month and 12 years This is because I am incarcerated with them Now I know a little more about their military service and personal lives introduced the idea to hold a veterans’ workshop in prison She served four years in the Navy as an aviation electrician on helicopters she met a formerly incarcerated person with whom she exchanged stories about prison and the military She noticed similar difficulties making transitions from the two institutions back to civilian life “When I was struggling to readapt after my military service I felt most connection with formerly incarcerated veterans I never thought the person who understood me would be a formerly incarcerated person.” it was the impetus “to give the underserved an opportunity to tell their stories.” Howard’s journey through carceral environments started at the Rikers Island jail in New York She is currently studying to earn her master’s degree in public policy at the University of Chicago Veterans Group San Quentin is the largest veterans’ organization inside the CDCR prison system Many of them make great pains to endure their punishment who served four years in the Marines and is also chair of the veterans’ group at San Quentin “I found myself in tank six,” a holding cell “I entered my first prison at four years old,” he wrote It was an account about his placement in foster care following an incident with his mother he joined Junior ROTC in high school and eventually enlisted in the Marines “The Corps was my first real family after my family broke,” he said Randy Sherman read his story about the time he fell off the top bunk in his cell onto the concrete floor “How did you walk in here with all those injuries?” Sherman said to her I was trained to endure this,” said Mark Stanley He served in the Air Force and has been incarcerated 40 years These veterans wrote compelling and honest stories about bravery None offered any excuses for their past transgressions They simply stood proud to have served and still held on to some of their service rivalries Todd Winkler attends a creative writing workshop that I have been a participant in for 12 years The first time I listened to him read one of his stories I knew immediately he possessed the skills of a seasoned writer I landed in San Quentin State Prison,” he wrote He described his arrival at the gates of prison he works as a peer mentor to other prisoners I met 79-year-old Ray Melberg on day four of the workshop I learned that he served 23 years in the Air Force “I didn’t come enthusiastic to write a story “The story has been brewing in my mind for 40 years.” He beamed as he read about the United States’ and Russian nuclear weapons and the role he played to bring freedom to East Germany “The Berlin wall was soon to tumble,” he wrote “I was one of thousands who made this happen.” and volunteers from outside who gathered to watch the governor walk through the prison with His Highness They passed right by the veterans and went next door to San Quentin’s media center I suppose it is much easier to justify overlooking imprisoned veterans he probably did not know what was taking place in the next room After more than a decade working as a journalist behind bars the hoopla around politicians and royalty visiting San Quentin was nothing new to me Given the choice between another dog and pony show I chose the latter because I found it extraordinarily unique for the prison administration to recognize its veterans and allow professionals to assist them with writing their narratives but my best friend served 22 years in the Navy He piloted P-3 Orions and retired as a commander Editors Note: This <a target="_blank" href="https://thewarhorse.org/san-quentin-incarcerated-veterans-share-proud-poignant-and-painful-episodes-during-war-horse-writing-seminar/">article</a> first appeared on <a target="_blank" href="https://thewarhorse.org">The War Horse,</a> an award-winning nonprofit news organization educating the public on military service Subscribe to their <a target="_blank" href="https://thewarhorse.us11.list-manage.com/subscribe/post?u=2dfda758f64e981facbb0a8dd&id=9a9d4becaa">newsletter</a> 20251 commentsIn a historic first for California’s oldest and most iconic prison San Quentin State Prison hosted a Transgender Visibility Night Panel Discussion—an event believed to be the first of its kind inside a state correctional facility Organized by incarcerated trans woman Angie Gordon a Vanguard Board Member and Editorial Board member of the Vanguard Incarcerated Press the evening served as both a celebration and a reckoning amplifying voices that are often marginalized within the prison system and society at large What emerged from the event was not only an acknowledgment of visibility but a powerful assertion of humanity who emceed the evening and shaped its vision the event was a manifestation of collective resilience “We were there to share a message of resiliency in the face of setback,” Gordon told the Vanguard for many out there but especially for the trans community but punches in the face are going to happen Transgender Visibility Night was not about merely occupying space—it was about transforming it From panel discussions to candid storytelling and powerful performances the evening redefined what visibility can look like behind bars: joy as resistance “We believe that joy is its own form of resistance,” Gordon said As incarcerated trans women and nonbinary people shared stories of perseverance and outside supporters—witnessed something rare and intimate “The empowerment of our community was working right there in front of all of us,” Gordon reflected “The people on stage were seizing the power in their voice and impact of a community united.” Transgender individuals represent one of the most vulnerable populations within prisons many find themselves navigating a system that was never designed to recognize Gordon addressed this directly in her opening remarks: “We know that the trans and gender nonconforming community is disproportionately impacted by all kinds of hate crimes suicidality… Visibility is a critical factor in that game Because you can’t help somebody that you can’t see.” is not just about recognition—it’s about survival is not a passive endurance but an active and ongoing act of defiance The Transgender Visibility Night was framed around the concept of “transgender joy”—a powerful antidote to the dominant narratives of trauma and victimization that so often define public understanding of incarcerated trans people it’s hard to wake up in the world,” Gordon said “So today this project is about reaching into our community and finding the stories of joy and perseverance and resiliency.” One of the most poignant themes that echoed throughout the evening was the importance of sanctuary The loss of the community’s Tuesday night meeting space—a casualty of administrative oversight—was deeply felt by many attendees That space had been more than just a room; it had become a home a place of refuge from the daily stresses of prison life and the constant threat of judgment or reprisal “It’s just having somewhere where I can be me totally 100%,” one woman said during the panel discussion “Where all of us can be ourselves without having to worry without having someone to judge you or give you a side-eye.” Another woman echoed that sentiment: “For the first time… I was like Yet even as they mourned the temporary loss of their physical sanctuary the event itself stood as a testament to the community’s resilience and ingenuity Participants made clear that their sense of community was not confined to four walls—it was something they carried within themselves and offered to one another in countless acts of mutual care The panel discussions focused on what organizers called “transgender joy”—not in spite of incarceration but often born from the very relationships formed within its confines it was the powerful bonds of chosen family—sisters “When you’re fighting and struggling to find your identity… that’s where a lot of the validation I was getting out of my relationship,” one speaker shared a panelist named Jooty shared what it meant to be in a relationship while incarcerated “You find joy in your relationship by just having someone to connect with,” she said “Someone to experience day-to-day trials and tribulations with Someone you can trust and be yourself around.” Another participant emphasized the rarity of simply being accepted: “I find joy just being myself This is my authentic self… and that brings me joy.” the idea of joy was reclaimed—not as an indulgence The event was made possible in part through the involvement of outside scholars and organizations a queer criminologist from the University of South Dakota Participating via Skype—an extraordinary administrative allowance made possible by San Quentin’s progressive “California Model”—Dr “I usually don’t use my title,” Carrillo told the crowd “because I don’t care that I have a degree but quite a few people often do—especially when it comes to legitimacy in the academy and in corrections.” Carrillo’s presence underscored the event’s academic and activist ambitions: this was not simply a prison program but a research-informed narrative project aimed at challenging how trans communities are seen and studied—particularly in the context of incarceration “When you demonstrate strength and resilience you are laying the table for them to speak truth to power.” The organizers hope that Transgender Visibility Night will become an annual event at San Quentin the team has plans to compile video and audio footage into an educational resource that can be shared with trans communities at other prisons—particularly those where isolation and invisibility remain the norm “Our community members are hiding in rooms searching to find themselves,” Gordon said “If we can get our stories on that platform and get that into those hands the group is working to secure a new permanent sponsor for their weekly meetings the event itself demonstrated that even in a system not built for them trans people inside San Quentin are building something powerful—something that refuses to be silenced “Visibility is not just about being seen,” one speaker said in closing I will make the first comment: First of all thanks to Angie Gordon for put this together and getting us a front row seat I have been doing the Vanguard for 20 years now and I will say this was the most impactful night I have had I want to thank Madison Whittemore and Cynthia Rodriguez two Vanguard Board members for sharing this evening with me this is not the place or the article to express your political views You must be logged in to post a comment. The Vanguard provides the Davis Community with incisive in-depth coverage of local government on a wide variety of issues. Since 2006, The Vanguard has provided Davis and Yolo County with some of the best groundbreaking news coverage on local government and policy issues affecting our city, our schools, the county, and the Sacramento Region. Print Earlonne Woods co-founded the popular podcast from inside San Quentin State Prison in 2017 while serving a lengthy prison sentence Newsom had begun the process of pardoning him earlier this year Gavin Newsom granted pardons for 19 people including award-winning San Quentin podcaster Earlonne Woods “Ear Hustle,” the popular and critically acclaimed podcast that Woods co-founded from inside San Quentin State Prison in 2017, was a finalist for a Pulitzer Prize in 2020 It takes its title from a prison slang term for eavesdropping The grantees have “turned their lives around since their convictions and have demonstrated a commitment of service to their families and communities,” the governor’s office said in a statement Wednesday afternoon Newsom weighs a number of factors when reviewing clemency applications “including an applicant’s self-development and conduct since the offense whether the grant is in the interest of justice and the impact of a grant on the community including crime victims and survivors,” according to his office Newsom,” Woods said in an Instagram video Wednesday afternoon recounting how the governor had relayed the news to him and expressed appreciation for his work who had two prior convictions as a teenager was sentenced to 31 years to life for his role in a 1997 armed robbery under the state’s “three strikes” law The podcaster’s sentence was commuted by former Gov Jerry Brown in 2018 — a move that made Woods eligible for parole Woods interviewed Brown for the podcast at the Sacramento governor’s mansion after his release Born and raised in South Central Los Angeles, Woods was hired by Public Radio Exchange as a full-time producer and co-host for “Ear Hustle” after his release. He also received his GED, attended Coastline Community College and completed vocational trade programs while incarcerated, according to an “Ear Hustle” biography. The other 18 grantees include Damian Clopton, a Sonoma County restaurateur who expressed deep gratitude to Newsom for signing his pardon. “I already did turn my life around and this is a recognition of that,” said Clopton, who was incarcerated for possessing a controlled substance for sale and transporting a controlled substance for sale. He was released in 2010. As a small-business owner, he said the pardon will have an immediate effect on his life because “there are a lot of federal programs I’m not able to take advantage of or be eligible for with a criminal conviction. … It’s still a scarlet letter.” Times staff writers Taryn Luna and Hannah Wiley contributed to this report. Julia Wick is a political reporter at the Los Angeles Times. She and her colleagues won the 2023 Pulitzer Prize in breaking news for reporting on a leaked audio recording that upended Los Angeles politics. She was also part of the team that was a 2022 Pulitzer Prize finalist for work covering a fatal shooting on the set of the film “Rust.” Before joining the Times, Wick was the editor in chief of LAist.