145. Earning Freedom (14.1) by Michael Santos
Earning Freedom: Conquering a 45-Year Prison Term, by Michael Santos
Reading Chapter 13.2
Episode describes being in the hole at Lompoc Camp, and getting charged with disciplinary infractions, advocacy, prevailing.
Months 232-233
*******
Confinement in SHU, \u201cthe hole,\u201d is intended as further punishment to imprisonment. It is constant deprivation, leaving a person without access to phone calls, commissary, or recreation yards. The forced segregation can last for days, weeks, months, or years. Some men flip out when authorities send them to the hole. They retaliate by kicking on the doors, banging fists or heads against the walls, or becoming delusional.\xa0 But I\u2019ll be okay, regardless of what this system does.
During the decades I\u2019ve served, guards have locked me in the SHU several times, but never for a disciplinary infraction. I\u2019ve been through enough transfers and holdover cells that the close quarters don\u2019t bother me anymore. I block out the screaming and noise from other cells. Carole sends me subscriptions to four news magazines. She sends three books each week. I finish reading two extensive biographies by Ron Chernow, one on J.D. Rockefeller and another on J.P. Morgan. I read the Bible and exercise daily on my tiny patch of cement floor. I didn\u2019t expect the abrupt change, but it doesn\u2019t paralyze me. The solitude allows me time to stare at the concrete walls and think. Only the taunting from petty bureaucrats like Jim Miller disturbs my serenity.
Mr. Miller is the Camp Administrator at Lompoc, essentially the CEO of the camp. I met him during my first week here, back in July of 2005. After my hasty transfer from the Florence Camp, I needed some assurance that my published writings wouldn\u2019t cause problems. If Carole was going through the expense of moving to California, we had to be reasonably certain staff wouldn\u2019t transfer me again. After his gatekeeper, the dragon lady, let me in, Miller agreed to talk to me in his conference room.
Miller presents an imposing figure. He stands six-five, wears cowboy boots, has a powerful build with an alabaster round head, fleshy cheeks, and blue eyes that remain half-closed whenever he addresses a prisoner. When I stood in front of his desk the first time we met, he leaned back in his chair to applaud me, a corner of his mouth rising in a sarcastic sneer.
\u201cWell, Mr. San-tos, you must be very proud of yourself.\u201d He derisively hyphenates my last name with his affected drawl.
\u201cWhy\u2019s that?\u201d I was not surprised that he knew my name.
\u201cYou\u2019re the first person I\u2019ve met who comes up first when I Google his name.\u201d
\u201cI wouldn\u2019t know. I\u2019ve never used the Internet.\u201d
\u201cLet\u2019s not kid each other, Mr. San-tos. You know exactly what you\u2019re doing.\u201d
\u201cDo you have a problem with my writing? That\u2019s what I wanted to talk to you about. My wife is planning on moving here, and before she does I want to make sure I\u2019m not going to be transferred.\u201d
He shrugged. \u201cThat\u2019s entirely up to you\u201d
\u201cI don\u2019t do anything that violates the rules. But I have a new book coming out,\u201d I told him. \u201cWill that cause me any problems here?\u201d
He shook his head. \u201cWe\u2019ll just have to wait and see. I don\u2019t have a crystal ball, can\u2019t make no guarantees.\u201d
When I went to see Mr. Miller for that face-to-face conversation two years ago, I was making the record clear about my work. I purposely avoided him after that meeting. Now that I\u2019m locked in SHU, he appears at my cell, leans against the doorframe, and peers through the window cut into the door. I ignore him, though his big, clean shaven head fills the window and I can sense his contempt.
He taps the window with his ring and I look over. \u201cGot any questions for me, Mr. San-tos?\u201d
I shake my head.
He jerks his head, gesturing that I should walk toward the door. \u201cYour wife\u2019s causing all kinds of ruckus out here, making extra work for me.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ve got a few problems of my own,\u201d I say into the doorframe.
He nods his head, irritation evident in his tight-lipped expression.
\u201cI need you to sign these releases.\u201d He slides a file with papers under the door along with a pen.
\u201cWhat are they for?\u201d I ask.
\u201cThey authorize me to communicate information to the people bothering me about your case.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m an open book. I\u2019ve got nothing to hide. You can communicate with anyone who asks about me.\u201d
\u201cSign the forms,\u201d he gestures with his index finger. After signing, I slide the file back under the door.
\u201cI\u2019ll need that pen back, Mr. San-tos.\u201d\u2028I slide him the pen.
\u201cYou know you\u2019ll never return to a camp, don\u2019t you?\u201d he grins, appearing quite pleased.
\u201cDo those 20 years that I\u2019ve already served still count?\u201d My question diminishes some of the pleasure he derives from taunting prisoners.
\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d he asks.
\u201cThe past 20 years I\u2019ve served, don\u2019t they still count?\u201d
Miller doesn\u2019t respond but nods his big, shiny head and walks down the hall gripping his file folder full of signed forms.
*******
A week passes and a guard finally comes, ordering me to cuff up. I grab an envelope that contains a statement I wrote to detail my version of events. Then I back up to the trap for handcuffing. The guard grips the chain and leads me from my cell down the corridor, through the gates, past the control bubble, and into an office with walls covered in dark acoustic padding for soundproofing. Behind a desk a lieutenant sits with his back to me as he types. He has a pale, bald head, and three rolls of fat droop at the base of his thick neck.
\u201cI\u2019ve got Inmate Santos,\u201d the guard announces.
\u201cThat\u2019ll be all, Officer,\u201d the lieutenant says. The guard releases his grip on my handcuffs and walks out, leaving me standing in front of the desk with my hands cuffed behind my back.
After he finishes typing, the lieutenant spins his cushioned chair around to face me.
\u201cDo you know who I am?\u201d
\u201cI know you\u2019re a lieutenant.\u201d
He nods his head. \u201cThat\u2019s right. I\u2019m Lieutenant Tremble and I understand you\u2019re some kind of celebrity around here.\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m a long-term prisoner. That\u2019s it.\u201d
\u201cGood, I\u2019m glad to hear we understand each other, because no matter how many people you have calling this prison, or how many letters people write, I\u2019m not treatin\u2019 you any diff\u2019rent than I treat anyone else.\u201d
Firm but fair. That\u2019s the BOP motto. But I know that if it weren\u2019t for my wife\u2019s success in mobilizing my friends and those in my support network, this lieutenant would\u2019ve kept me stewing for a month \u201cunder investigation\u201d before he called me in.
\u201cI\u2019m investigatin\u2019 the two disciplinary infractions you\u2019re bein\u2019 charged with,\u201d Lieutenant Tremble says.
\u201cWhat are the charges?\u201d
\u201cConducting a business and unauthorized use of government equipment.\xa0 Specifically, you used a computer. Now Whadda ya have to tell me?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m not running a business, and I had staff authorization for my work on the computer. I prepared a written statement that I want you to make part of the record.\u201d
\u201cLet me have the statement.\u201d
I turn my back to him and he grabs the envelope from my cuffed hands. \u201cIt\u2019s all in there,\u201d I say, turning to face him again.
The lieutenant opens the envelope and pulls out the three yellow pages. \u201cYou want me to include all of this?\u201d
\u201cI want a full written record. This isn\u2019t my first problem with the BOP and I\u2019ve learned that documenting everything serves my interests well.\u201d
The lieutenant shakes his head. \u201cDo you realize I\u2019ve got to type all this?\u201d
\u201cI take disciplinary charges seriously and I intend to prove I wasn\u2019t doing anything that could be considered against the rules.\u201d
\u201cFine. I\u2019ll read your statement later. Give me the quick version now.\u201d
I shrug my shoulders. \u201cI don\u2019t run a business. I write and type manuscripts for books. The books describe prison and encourage readers to lead responsible lives. BOP policy allows me to do this without staff permission and my Central File includes a letter from a BOP attorney specifically authorizing my work. I send the manuscripts home. My wife converts them into books. I assign away the rights to all royalties so I don\u2019t have any financial or business interest in the work. I don\u2019t have anything to hide.\u201d
\u201cWhat about the computer?\u201d Lieutenant Tremble asks.
\u201cMr. Brown authorized me to use it after I completed my required duties. No one in the powerhouse is going to complain about my work.\u201d
\u201cWell why don\u2019t you think anyone from the powerhouse is steppin\u2019 up to bail you out?\u201d
\u201cI don\u2019t know what they\u2019re doing or why.\u201d
\u201cMr. Brown doesn\u2019t have the authority to grant you permission to use the computer for personal work. Staff members don\u2019t even have permission to use computers for personal work. These computers are for government work only. Besides that, I already spoke with Mr. Brown.\xa0 He says that he never gave you permission to use the computer for anything but government work.\u201d
I shake my head, not surprised to learn that my supervisor takes the cowardly route of self-preservation, denying the truth.
\u201cYou know what that means?\u201d The lieutenant smiles derisively.
\u201cI don\u2019t.\xa0 What does that mean?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019m going to have to amend the disciplinary report. I\u2019ll be adding a third charge of lying to a staff member. You lied when you told me that you had permission to use the computer for personal work.\u201d
\u201cDid it ever occur to you that the staff may be lying?\u201d
\u201cBe careful, Inmate Santos. You don\u2019t wanna dig yourself in deeper, do you?\u201d
\u201cCheck the files in the computer. You\u2019ll see that I typed plenty of documents for staff members.\u201d
\u201cWhat kind of documents?\u201d The lieutenant shifts, smelling a bigger fish.
\u201cDocuments that don\u2019t have anything to do with government work.\u201d
\u201cYou\u2019re telling me that BOP staff members had an inmate typin\u2019 their personal information? I don\u2019t buy it.\u201d
\u201cCheck it out. When staff asked for my help, I complied. Those computer files will show that I typed letters pertaining to their personal real estate holdings, r\xe9sum\xe9s, and applications for jobs with other agencies.\u201d
He\u2019s incredulous. \u201cAre you telling me that my staff members asked you to type their r\xe9sum\xe9s? They gave you personal information?\u201d
\u201cWell I don\u2019t know whether they\u2019d consider themselves your staff members, but I certainly typed up their personal work at their request?\u201d
\xa0\u201cThen it looks like I\u2019ve got more investigatin\u2019 to do.\u201d
\u201cThen you better go about your investigating.\xa0 It shouldn\u2019t be hard.\xa0 The files are all over the computer.\u201d
*******
I\u2019ve been locked in the hole for a month and I\u2019m keeping my family and friends apprised of my situation by writing a daily journal describing the routine I\u2019ve created. Carole posts the articles on MichaelSantos.net, connecting me to the world even if I am locked in a box. When the guard escorts me out to visit Carole on Saturday morning, she delivers wonderful news.
\u201cI\u2019ve been talking with a high-level contact in the regional office,\u201d Carole\u2019s eyes sparkle. \u201cI don\u2019t even want to say her name in here.\u201d
\u201cOkay, I get it. What\u2019s up?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ve sent her all of your books. She\u2019s reviewed your entire file and she\u2019s totally impressed with your record. She saw all the efforts you made to let the staff know about your writing and she reviewed the documents you typed for your supervisors at the powerhouse.\u201d
\u201cAnd? I\u2019m still being charged with running a business, using the computer, and lying to staff.\u201d
\u201cNot anymore. You\u2019ve been totally cleared of those charges and you\u2019re being transferred to another camp. Honey, this mess is finally over.\u201d
That news from Carole elevates my spirit. Any day I expect guards will pull me out for transfer. Instead, on Tuesday evening, May 22nd, Lieutenant Marx taps his steel key against my window, smiling with his nod for me to approach the doorframe.
\u201cGot a new disciplinary infraction for ya,\u201d he grins wickedly, \u201chun\u2019red series.\u201d
\u201cWhat are you talking about?\u201d My stomach drops like a brick. A 100-series disciplinary infraction characterizes it as being one of the greatest in severity, exposing a prisoner to potential new criminal prosecution.
\u201cWe found your weapon.\u201d He nods gleefully.
\u201cWeapon? I\u2019ve been locked in SHU for 31 days. You\u2019re telling me you found a weapon today? That\u2019s ridiculous,\u201d I yell into the doorframe.
He slides the disciplinary report under the door. \u201cProve it.\u201d He shrugs, grins, and vanishes from sight down the tier.
When Dorkin locked me in segregation in April he separated me from access to my personal property. He and Mr. Smith packed all of my belongings into green duffle bags. They filled out property forms that detailed every item they packed in the bags, down to the number of Bic pens. I have copies of those property forms and they don\u2019t mention my having anything that could be construed as a weapon. Yet this new disciplinary infraction Lieutenant Marx just delivered accuses me of possessing a \u201csharpened metal weapon.\u201d
I\u2019ve been locked in high security penitentiaries and I\u2019ve thrived through 20 years of imprisonment without problems. Now I have to argue against a charge that I packed a weapon in camp cupcake? I\u2019m being framed. Regardless of the guards\u2019 motivation, a 100-series disciplinary infraction exposes me to the possibility of criminal charges. I spend the evening writing a lengthy protest on my yellow legal pad.
On Saturday morning, Carole comes to visit and I tell her about this latest disruption.
\u201cThey\u2019re retaliating against you because the regional director expunged the other charges,\u201d Carole understands the gravity of this new problem as I tell her of the weapons charge.\xa0 She worries that this isn\u2019t ever going to end.
\u201cWhatever it takes, we\u2019re going to fight this. If there was a weapon in my property, one of these crooked guards planted it. I haven\u2019t had access to my property for more than a month.\u201d
\u201cMichael, I hate this place and everything about it. I\u2019m calling my contact at the region as soon as I leave here. Even an idiot can see that you\u2019re being framed.\xa0 We\u2019ll get you out of this.\u201d
Despite Carole\u2019s confidence, I feel like I\u2019m in a viper pit.
*******
I\u2019m on the toilet when I hear tapping on the window. I don\u2019t even have to look up to know Miller has returned. He gestures with his shaved head for me to step to the doorframe. While I finish using the toilet, his big head stays in the window. I take my time washing my hands, then step closer while drying my hands on the threadbare towel.
\u201cGot calls from National Geographic Television and BBC radio requesting interviews with you. Looks like your wife\u2019s been busy.\u201d
\u201cIs that what you came to tell me?\u201d I speak into the frame.
\u201cDo you want to participate in the interviews?\u201d
\u201cYes.\u201d
\u201cSign these release forms.\u201d
He slides the folder under the door with a pen. I sign both and slide them back.
Miller picks up the folder, and then he opens it to make sure I signed on the right spot.
\u201cThe requests are denied,\u201d he states with a sneer and walks away.
*******
On Thursday a guard comes for me. He cuffs and marches me out from my cell, down the tunnel and through the gates to the soundproof lieutenant\u2019s office.
\u201cThat will be all, Officer.\u201d It\u2019s Merkle, the SIS. He walks out from behind his desk and unlocks my handcuffs.
\u201cRemember me?\u201d he asks.
\u201cYes,\u201d I say, even though two years have passed since I last saw the SIS lieutenant.
\u201cSit down.\u201d A stack of papers sits neatly on his desk. \u201cI\u2019ve prepared an affidavit. I\u2019d like you to read it over. If it\u2019s accurate, I\u2019d like you to sign it. If anything is inaccurate, I\u2019d like you to tell me so I can correct it. Okay?\u201d
\u201cFine. Give me the affidavit.\u201d
The document describes my use of the computer in the powerhouse, emphasizing the r\xe9sum\xe9s, job applications, and rental agreements I typed for staff members at their direction.
\u201cThe affidavit doesn\u2019t mention anything about the weapon planted in my property after I was exonerated from charges of lying to staff, running a business, and using the computer for personal work,\u201d I point out.
\u201cThat\u2019s a separate investigation,\u201d he says.
\u201cCan I use your pen?\u201d
He pulls a gold pen from the inside pocket of his blazer and passes it to me. When I sign, I appreciate the smooth precision of the roller ball.
\u201cWhat are you in here for?\u201d he asks.
\u201cWhen I was in my early 20s, I sold cocaine. It was a bad decision.\u201d I return his pen. \u201cNice pen.\u201d
\u201cDidn\u2019t the president\u2019s brother sell cocaine?\u201d He puts the pen back in his inside pocket.
\u201cThat was Roger Clinton. The president pardoned him before leaving office.\u201d
\u201cAnd \u2018justice\u2019 for all,\u201d the SIS officer smirks.
*******
I\u2019ve been locked in SHU for 60 days on the Saturday morning when I walk into the visiting room and see Carole\u2019s radiant smile. \u201cYou look like you have good news,\u201d I ask after we kiss and sit across from each other.
\u201cCan\u2019t I just be happy to see my husband?\u201d
\u201cOh, so you like seeing me in my orange jumpsuit, unshaven?\u201d
\u201cI talked to my contact at the region yesterday. The regional director knows you didn\u2019t have a weapon. Every charge against you is already expunged and your record is totally clear again. You\u2019re being transferred to another camp.\u201d
\u201cWhich camp?\u201d
\u201cI\u2019ll know on Monday. It doesn\u2019t matter. I want you out of Lompoc.\u201d
Returning to my cell after our visit, relief floods through me and I thank God for the many blessings in my life. Some may consider Lompoc Camp as a \u201ccrown jewel\u201d in the BOP system, but it\u2019s tarnished and toxic, top to bottom. Maybe something bigger will come from my being thrown in SHU on trumped up charges. Maybe this crown jewel will get a much-needed cleaning.
I hear Miller\u2019s voice. He\u2019s talking to a prisoner in a cell down the tier. He doesn\u2019t stick his big round head in my window to watch me today. As he walks back toward the gates, I knock for him to approach.
\u201cWhat is it, Mr. San-tos?\u201d He leans into the door from the hallway.
\u201cDid you hear that your superiors at the region have completely exonerated me of all those charges?\u201d
He looks at me with his signature sneer. \u201cI did hear something about that.\u201d
\u201cI guess I\u2019ll be going to another camp after all,\u201d I smile.
After more than two months in SHU I can\u2019t contain the mockery in my tone.
\u201cLooks that way,\u201d he responds with studied neutrality.
\u201cI\u2019m requesting a furlough transfer.\u201d
With a furlough transfer, Carole would be able to transport me to the new camp where I would surrender, sparing me the indignity of chains and guards.
He shakes his head. \u201cDon\u2019t count on it, Mr. San-tos. You\u2019ll be traveling in chains.\u201d