texas death row (the warden’s right to rule)
when the wardens decide to challenge the courts prisoners pay the cost

the relationship between guards and prisoners is hopelessly hostile, shaped and maintained through conflict. rules are clearlydefined, but never stable. the controlling force of guards is constantly met by resistance: sometimes mildly, sometimes explosively, but never ending.

prisoners want, and fight for, better conditions, fairer treatment. guards want, and try to enforce, complete control. they want rollbacks of all gains made by prisoners. gains painfully won and always long in coming. the last meaningful gains were more than thirty years ago in the landmark ruling of ruiz vs. estelle. sadly, though, most of those have since been taken back. only bare-bones remain where rights are concerned. among them is the court-ordered right to a prescribed minimum time to recreation, a measly two hours a day, five days a week. (even that is often denied, and has sparked much conflict.)

the two perspectives are clear. from the prisoners’ point-of-view we are being denied a lawful right. the warden is refusing to comply with court orders. but this is obviously not his take on the matter, no doubt.

as head of the plantation, to him, it is about his right to govern as he sees fit. much like state governors, especially in the south, who proclaim and attempt to assert perceived state rights over federal mandates.

but unlike governors who, despite all of their political grandstanding, hardly ever get their way, the wardens are hardly ever stopped. when they decide to challenge the courts the prisoners pay the cost.

wardens can be, and often are, the orval faubuses and eugene “bull” conners* of today. warden lester, the death row warden at polunsky unit, certainly is.

a problem with recreation has been on-going for approximately two months now in a particular pod (b) of a particular building (12) that houses death row. at the end of the day - most days - there remain several "stuck out” recs (guys who did not get to go on their scheduled day), and there’s no reason for it. the guards just do not care to get it done, and the warden doesn’t insist that they do. it is from these two concrete facts that i surmise that the warden doesn’t give a hoot about any court mandate.

the boiling point

all of the prisoners have complained at least verbally, many have filed grievances. and others have caused minor disturbances by carrying out passive acts of disobedience: standing on the tier and refusing to move, commandeering the food slot* and not letting the guard close it after serving a meal, and refusing to come out of the dayroom after one’s rec time has expired.

this, before the violence, we prisoners call the simmering phase. the boiling point is the violence. but one never knows when it’s coming, exactly. one just knows that it’s near, soon to happen, and unavoidable.

february 8, 2010, about twenty minutes before midnight, the inevitable came. inmate taichiri preyor saw them first and like paul revere gave the warning, “they’re coming!”

from my vantage point i could not see them, but soon heard the familiar cadent rnarch of the special troopers: stepping lightly with the right foot and stomping hard with the left, in lockstep.

my second tier cell gave me a bird’s eye view. they came around the bend, clock...clock...clock...clock, moving like a black centipede. black helmets. black gloves. black vests. black shin guards. black elbow pads. the extended left hand of each trooper held the left shoulder of the man proceeding him with a relaxed grip, enabling fluid, worm-like movement.

they winded their way this way and that, up the stairs and three doors down to my right. inmate daryl wheatfall, number 999020, had been the most vocal, most engaging about his recreation.

sergeant mooring, the head man in charge, with a camcorder trained on him, knocked hard on wheatfall’s cell door and waited for a response that did not come. talking was over for wheatfall. for both sides, actually. the warning barked out by the sergeant was just a formality. “offender! submit to a strip search and application of hand restraints and exit the cell or chemical agents and/or a five man team will be utilized.”

still no answer.

more knocks. harder. louder. nothing. the sergeant donned his gas mask and shook the canister as one would a can of paint. arid just before he administered the first dosage, a voice called out, “up top!”

it was clinton young warning wheatfall on what location the gas would be coming from. he was no friend of wheatfall’s. in fact, they have a hatfield/mcCoy relationship. but the guards were wrong. wheatfall had done all that he could: begged, pleaded, reasoned, and, yes, even some swearing, he filed grievances through the proper channels and talked to every ranking officer that would give him the time of day. but to them, if you let them tell it, he was just whining. it never occurred to them that every prisoner is different. some, like wheatfall, look forward to their recreation. they look forward to working up a sweat to relieve tension. some guys never go out. they sleep around the clock, almost.

the guards are irked when he, as they put it, “whine about his rec.” and they become outright reactionary when he argues that it is court-ordered. so they take something else that’s court-ordered, like his shower or a meal, as if to say, "now tell that to the judge.”

well, maybe the good judge will be interested in seeing wheatfall being gassed excessively for over thirty minutes and five canisters of gas used. in seeing a prisoner totally hulled out after being roughed up by the special unit. discombobulated and walking whobbly. eyes closed, swollen, running literally blinded. long ropey strings of goo hanging from his nose as he hawks, spits, and labors to breathe. in seeing just how when the wardens decide to challenge the courts prisoners pay the cost.

---foot notes---
*orval faubus and eugene “bull” conners: orval faubus was the governor of arkansas who, in defiance of the supreme court, warned that “blood will run in the streets” if black students tried to integrate white schools.

*eugene “bull” conners, in defense of southern segregation, instigated mob attacks on northern students, known as freedom riders, who rode buses south through alabama following a supreme court ruling outlawing segregation on interstate buses. bull conners was the public safety commissioner.

*food slot: a five inch by fifteen inch opening cut into the cell door, through which food trays are served, attached to it is a hinged metal flap with a locking mechanism.