Dear Sis~
Today is Veteran's Day. I still remember when I was just a child, how every Veteran's Day and each Fourth of July, Dad would get me to help him raise up our American flag on the short flag pole mounted on our front porch. Dad took that very seriously which, in turn, made a firm impression on me...
Here's a little update on Percy's situation, just to better document what occurred. It was the night of October 15th, from 10:30 pm to 11:45 pm, when I cleaned up Percy's cell (cell #7). It was Lieutenant Dudley and Officer Lewis who supervised me and were right there on the spot (they were also the ones who moved Percy from cell #7 to Cell #2). All of this was recorded on video; we have four cameras on the pod and at least two of them were pointed toward cell #7. Many of the death row prisoners stood at their doors and watched all of this. It was Thomas Porter who was next to Percy, in cell #8, who kicked and banged for seven days, demanding to move because the odor from Percy's cell was gagging him. Porter filed numerous "emergency grievances" over that 7-day period, also demanding to move, in which he described Percy's feces-flooded cell (the feces and urine was running out from under Percy's door and into cells #6 and #8). These emergency grievances were all denied and returned to Porter with the notation that "this does not constitute an emergency."
My point is that this entire incident was well-witnessed and well-documented over a period of a week. Well, on Friday afternoon (Oct 19th) I phoned one of Percy's attorneys and told him what was going on with Percy and he promised to get Percy's other attorney, Jenny, to visit Percy on Monday morning. Well, on Monday morning, the guards came on the wing and sprayed the interview room down (where we meet our attorneys) with a citrus-scented disinfectant; then they laid out a clean uniform on the table, sprayed it down, and made Percy put it on. Jenny visited him minutes later, and I later heard that she commented that Percy "smelled like flowers" and thus, she didn't think anything was amiss. I also heard that the prison officials (i.e., Warden Loretta Kelly) had denied that Percy was living in a feces-flooded cell. Apparently, Jenny believed them. She did not look at Percy's cell, did not interview me or anyone else, and did not demand to look at the video, which would prove what I reported. Jenny, who is non-aggressive and non-confrontational by nature, chose to believe the administration's lies and chose not to push the issue. So, nothing has changed with Percy. He's still in a virtual strip cell, alone and bewildered, with nobody in a position of authority who gives a damn about him. The only upside is that Percy is so psychotic and insane that he does not understand how terribly he's being treated. To me, the true sad aspect of this is what it says about us as a society, that we treat people like this without any sense of shame and, in the larger picture, how the State, through its attorneys, are so desperately eager and determined to kill Percy, to put him to death despite everyones knowledge that he is absolutely insane. It is a group of attorneys, intelligent men and women, who spent long years in law school, and who now represent the Commonwealth of Virginia, who sit around polished tables and scheme and plot how to kill Percy. I wonder if any of them pause to ask themselves "Is this really what I went to Law School for?"
Love, Bill
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
November 7, 2007-D.C. Sniper burns cell
Dear Sis~
I was just sitting down to write you a letter when I smelled smoke. When I went to my door to investigate I saw a cloud of billowing smoke surrounding cell #22, along with the orange flicker of flames (it was 11pm and the lights were off on the pod, making the fire easily visible). John Muhammad (aka the D.C Sniper) lives in that cell and he'd clearly set his entire cell on fire. Then the fire alarm went off and the red strobe lights started flashing. About that time, the guards started streaming in, milling around his cell door, shouting his name, peering inside the dark cell. Eventually, there were 14 officers there in a Keystone Cops-like state of confusion and panic, some carrying fire extinguishers, one wielding a video camera, another holding the electric stun/shock shield. Nobody wanted to open his cell door, fearing an ambush. Meanwhile, the thick smoke kept billowing up toward the ceiling. After watching this for 13 or 14 minutes I was certain that Muhammad was dead. (I've seen guys die in their flaming cells under similar smokey circumstances). After 17 minutes (I was timing it) they finally opened his door, sprayed the fire extinguishers inside and pulled Mohammad out of his cell. Surprisingly, Muhammad was conscious and able to walk. He had wrapped himself in a wet sheet, like a mummy, and clearly he'd had his face pressed to the air vent in the back of his cell (the vent near the floor forces air into the cell, while the vent near the ceiling extracts air). So, whatever his motivation was in setting the fire, it clearly was not suicide. (Had he not taken protective measures he absolutely would have died from smoke inhalation). By this time the entire cellblock/pod was filled with smoke and we were all choking. I wrapped a wet towel around my head and stayed near my vent. Meanwhile, all Mohammad's property and paperwork, his clothes, sheets, pillow, mattress, etc. was pushed and pulled out onto the pod by guards wielding brooms and sticks, where it burned and smoked in a big smoldering heap...So, that's how I spent the last hour, watching this comedy of errors, with a damp towel wrapped around my head, thankful that Mohammad was incapable of engineering a more substantial fire or else we might all have suffocated (clearly, the guards would never open all our cells; we'd just die in here, as has happened in other prisons and jails in the past). I hope your night was better than mine!
Love, Bill
I was just sitting down to write you a letter when I smelled smoke. When I went to my door to investigate I saw a cloud of billowing smoke surrounding cell #22, along with the orange flicker of flames (it was 11pm and the lights were off on the pod, making the fire easily visible). John Muhammad (aka the D.C Sniper) lives in that cell and he'd clearly set his entire cell on fire. Then the fire alarm went off and the red strobe lights started flashing. About that time, the guards started streaming in, milling around his cell door, shouting his name, peering inside the dark cell. Eventually, there were 14 officers there in a Keystone Cops-like state of confusion and panic, some carrying fire extinguishers, one wielding a video camera, another holding the electric stun/shock shield. Nobody wanted to open his cell door, fearing an ambush. Meanwhile, the thick smoke kept billowing up toward the ceiling. After watching this for 13 or 14 minutes I was certain that Muhammad was dead. (I've seen guys die in their flaming cells under similar smokey circumstances). After 17 minutes (I was timing it) they finally opened his door, sprayed the fire extinguishers inside and pulled Mohammad out of his cell. Surprisingly, Muhammad was conscious and able to walk. He had wrapped himself in a wet sheet, like a mummy, and clearly he'd had his face pressed to the air vent in the back of his cell (the vent near the floor forces air into the cell, while the vent near the ceiling extracts air). So, whatever his motivation was in setting the fire, it clearly was not suicide. (Had he not taken protective measures he absolutely would have died from smoke inhalation). By this time the entire cellblock/pod was filled with smoke and we were all choking. I wrapped a wet towel around my head and stayed near my vent. Meanwhile, all Mohammad's property and paperwork, his clothes, sheets, pillow, mattress, etc. was pushed and pulled out onto the pod by guards wielding brooms and sticks, where it burned and smoked in a big smoldering heap...So, that's how I spent the last hour, watching this comedy of errors, with a damp towel wrapped around my head, thankful that Mohammad was incapable of engineering a more substantial fire or else we might all have suffocated (clearly, the guards would never open all our cells; we'd just die in here, as has happened in other prisons and jails in the past). I hope your night was better than mine!
Love, Bill
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