A day in the life, on Georgia's death row #1
"I am sorry about the stamps, but authorizing an attorney phone call ... is not in my realm of authority. I did call the store to see what the problem is; they told me the post office does not have any 1 cent stamps on hand; therefore, they have been unable to obtain any themselves. They have 33, 50, 29, 23 cent stamps and aerogrammes at present." — Counsellor Margaret Teal
This neat, handwritten note was given to me this afternoon by the cell block officer, Corrections Officer Second Grade (C0-2) Linder.
Counsellor Teal's message was in response to my written request that she arrange an emergency phone call for me with my court-appointed lawyer, Mr Mitch Durham. I would like him to contact someone in authority here who might explain how it is that the administration has seen fit to routinely deny me (and other prisoners) the right to access lawyers and the courts in a timely manner.
Denial of access comes in the form of my not being able to purchase US postage stamps in sufficient numbers and denominations to send packages and letters. Not only are stamps sometimes not available, but from now on, Ms Teal informs me, I will be not be able to purchase more than "20 stamps a week from the prison store".
I mail several letters each week which, because of sheer weight, can require 20 or more stamps costing $40 or more.
The right to timely access to the US Postal Service is essential when you live on death row. Often, the time in which one can submit a motion to the court is limited — as short as 10 days. Missing the court's deadline can cost you your life.
According to Georgia law, timely access is a death row prisoner's right, not a privilege. Moreover, it is a right that cannot be summarily withdrawn or usurped in any way without probable cause.
According to Counsellor Teal, I am not allowed to call my attorney even in an emergency. I cannot talk to an attorney unless he prearranges the phone call. This restriction hinders the appeal process.
The mail officer for the death row unit, CO-2 Phinazee, suggested I send my mailings via a procedure in which the money to pay for stamps is removed directly from the prisoner's prison account. On the surface that seems like a viable option, but in reality it sometimes takes the prison administration several days just to get the cheque cut and cleared.
The efficiency of the entire system is questionable. I once sent a $10 cheque to Atlanta which was found a year later, still at the prison. I was asked if I wanted the $10 put back into my account.
Another cheque I tried to send out, for $175, has never been found, and the money has not been put back into my account. The person handling prisoners' accounts, Ms Killingsworth, gave the Reverend Barry Lee Burnside the run-around for several months as he attempted to resolve this error. Part of the efficiency problem stems from CO-2 Phinazee being required by the administration to spend more time searching cells and prisoners for contraband than carrying out his mail-handling duties.
The new postage scheme seems designed to not only cripple our attempts to obtain sound legal consultation, but also to severely limit our ability to get support from, and maintain correspondence with, people in foreign lands.
In 1995, all prisoners' foreign correspondence was ended by the administration for a year. I am wondering if they are trying to end it again.
It is common knowledge that people in countries such as Australia, Canada and the United Kingdom tend to be anti-capital punishment. Foreign support given to those of us on death row is deeply resented by the upholders of Georgia's death penalty machine, many of whom harbor a rabid and irrational xenophobia.
For example, the attorney who heads my appeal, Clive Stafford Smith, is hated, seemingly for no other reason than he is British. (Mr Stafford Smith would quickly tell you that access to stamps, as well as appropriate mail handling procedures, become matters of life and death for people under the death penalty. By and large, strategies between the attorney and client during the appeal of a death sentence are conducted via mail.)
Yesterday, I asked the death row unit manager, Mr Claude McCann, "Are you trying to end my foreign correspondence?". He replied, "No". However, a letter he wrote me earlier that day ends with an imperative that connotes a subtle censure scheme: "P.S. Look at your correspondence list and make some judgement calls."
Regarding the problem with stamps, I am sure Counsellor Teal believes her note conveys accurate information. However, the store operators frequently give her incorrect information. She was told that the store had no 1c stamps, yet the store sent me 20 such stamps today.
The prison store is run mostly by people whose negligence is so high and competence so low that transactions and receipts are often in error. I ordered $30 worth of stamps but only received 86c worth. The receipt indicates I purchased 30 23c stamps for $6.90, but only three 23c stamps were in the envelope, along with 20 1c stamps.
Today death row was given a walk-through inspection by Georgia Department of Corrections Commissioner Wayne Garner. I would like to bring these matters to his attention, but for more than a year now I have complained up and down the prison's administrative line, in writing, about the mail situation, all to no avail. It is clear that the administration will not do anything to correct its illegal handling of mail until forced by order of a Federal District judge.
It is unfortunate that the handling of death row prisoners' mail does not get the kind of attention the prison gives its floors. The floors throughout the prison, especially those on which visitors and the commissioner walk, are actually cleaner than the trays from which the prisoners eat. If but a fraction of the attention that the floors get was put into our mail-handling system, it would be the most legal and efficient in the world.
With that said, I hope the reader will feel a sense of enlightenment as a result of this brief article. Please consider this the first installment in a series of essays entitled "A day in the life, on Georgia's death row".
[The writer is a prisoner on death row in the united States. He welcomes letters commenting on his columns (include your name and fuill return address on the envelope, or prison authorities may refuse to deliver it). He can be written to at: Brandon Astor Jones, EF-122216,
G3-77, Georgia Diagnostic & Classification Prison, PO Box 3877, Jackson, GA 30233, USA.]