Feb 2 - Tick Tock My Prison is a Clock

1 Year

365 Days

8,760 Hours

525,600 Minutes

31,536,000 Seconds

Over 42 Million Heartbeats

Every one of them empty.  Every one of them painful.  

Breathe in.  Breathe out.  Breathe in again.

A year’s worth of pain is nothing new in my life.  The difference this year is: the flavor and severity of the pain, the expectations of those around me to hide it, and the utter shock and trauma experienced by those around me when I fail to do so.  

I visit my husband at the prison nearly every day, and have been doing so since he was taken from me a year ago.  Visitation itself has been a battle with many twists and turns along the way.  I have gotten to know the guards at the visitation desk well; considering some of them casual friends.  I have seen abuse and indifference from some staff, but I have also seen extraordinary concern, care, and struggle to help families trying to access their loved ones from many others.  

These people see me nearly every day.  Many of them know the car I drive.  They know my husband’s OB number and location by heart.  They frequently call for him before I even make it in the door.  We talk, we joke, we gripe about our days.  And yet, recently I was slapped in the face by how little they understand about my life.  

The administration of the prison lashed out at us months ago, throwing my husband and his entire Mod (housing unit) into solitary confinement.  They attempted to permanently cut off all the men from physical contact with their families, but we fought them at the statewide level and won a small victory.  They were forced to allow us a single contact visitation hour each week.  The facility forces us to choose only one day each week to actually hug them, despite the fact that the facility is currently maintaining the staff to allow contact visitation every night of the week - a policy that seems created from pure spite.  

The other nights of the week, we are allowed video visitation only.  The video camera on the inmate’s side is pointed so absurdly high, that Clayton has to sit on the back of the provided chair, and attempt not to tip over backwards, to be seen from more than the nose up.  The video quality is so unfocused, discolored, and grainy that I was shocked in a recent contact visit to see that my husband had grown a substantial amount of facial hair which I hadn’t even been able to see in my nightly video visits.  

Only one phone is provided to hear them through, and the cord is painfully short; requiring family members to huddle over the single receiver in incredibly painful positions for the duration of the hour-long visit.  Family members who are hard-of-hearing have opted out of coming to these types of visits at all, because they are unable to hear him clearly.  The only consolation is that visitation hours allowed for video are broad and flexible; allowing families to come in and start a visit anytime between 9 am and 9 pm.  

I came to the prison late one night.  I was having a very rough week.  The pain in my body was high from both my regular pain condition, and the recent head-on collision I was involved in on the highway which totaled my car.  I was struggling with sudden water damage issues in my home, and managing the comings and goings of the various contractors I needed to rescue me. I had waited to head to the prison as late as possible.  Waiting had allowed me to help Clayton’s family receive a phone call from him, and share a conversation as a family before I went to visit him alone.  

I came into the prison at about 10 minutes before the latest visitation time, eager to see my husband.  One of the guards I know well, and appreciate very much, smirked at me casually and said, “Running a little late are we?”  

Under normal circumstances, the comment may have flown right by me, and I may have even cracked a joke in response.  But I was near tears already.  This guard was not seriously irritated with me, and I knew that.  However, this was the fourth time I had been asked this question that week, and the others had heavily implied that I was inconveniencing them with the need to serve me so late.  

I remember staring at him and trembling.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to cry and rage.  I had so many things I wanted to shout; not at him, but at the entire facility.  I swallowed them all down, and  kept my tears running down my tear ducts only.  I briefly explained that I had been waiting for a call from Clayton, and nodded before heading to my locker.  I noted the guard’s mild confusion as I walked away.  

If I could have poured out my heart without fear, this is what I would have said:

Please, please, do not forget that I am not like you!  I try to be patient; sometimes waiting an hour for a visit because I know the new inexperienced staff member is struggling.  I try to be kind, because having someone like you in this job is an essential Godsend in my life.  But can’t you see?  Don’t you understand when I speak with you each night I am waiting to see my SPOUSE?  

You are not a prisoner here like me.  You are here by choice; by profession.  You leave here each night or morning, and return home to your spouse.  You have the choice to kiss them.  You have the choice to hold them as you sleep.  You have the choice to make love to them when you see them suffering.  You could choose, if you truly wished, to simply watch them as they sleep.

How can you not understand?

My spouse was taken from me.  I HAVE TO come here to see him.  He is being held here by force, and he has done nothing wrong!  Many of you have come to know him for nearly a year, and know this to be true.  Sometimes he is treated with compassion, but often he is mocked and abused by those entrusted to keep him safe.  

I watch him suffer each and every day.  He’s being held captive in a small cell; only lucky enough to track time because he managed to purchase a watch before being thrown into hell.  You see him smile when I come to visit him.  You see him thank you, from the bottom of his heart for helping him see me, and it warms your own.  

Do you even think about what it’s really like for him all the other hours of the day?  About what it is like for me?

Tick tock, tick tock.  My prison is a clock.  

I wait every morning for his short opportunity to call.  I worry when he doesn’t.  When he does, I know the call will be 15 minutes exactly.  I struggle to adhere to that interval of conversation, and frequently want to scream at the recorded woman’s voice who announces the 1 minute warning, and then callously cuts us off.  

I watch the clock all day every day.  I calculate again and again how to fit the visit into the day.  It’s a minimum 2-hour chunk of my day removed from whatever other tasks I need to complete.  I calculate commute times from each and every location I go to.  But it’s more complicated than that.  It has to fit into his schedule as well as yours.  

I try not to visit on top of meal times.  I try not to visit during the brief periods he will be released from his cell each morning and night, or he will miss out on the opportunity entirely.  I try not to land on top of commissary delivery the day it arrives; or they will not allow him to have it, and he will go an entire week without the supplies he ordered two weeks ago.  I try not to land on shift changes, or the guards in visitation easily get overwhelmed, and I am delayed anyway.  I try not to land on top of counts in the mod for the same reason.  

The schedule changes frequently, and I struggle to keep all of its layers straight in my mind.  I keep notes stashed in my house, in my car, and on my person.  Sometimes the guards out front ask me about the schedule in the mod casually, because it’s not their area and they know that I usually know.  

I watch the clock and wait for his call every night. Worrying again when it does not come, and celebrating when it does.  

When I visit him, I watch the clock in the waiting room.  I never fail to be surprised by how much time continues to pass as I note the date I sign in on the sheet each day.  Sometimes you have him ready before I can even get my belongings stashed in a locker.  Sometimes I wait and wait, trying not to look impatient and calculating again and again how the delay will affect the precarious schedule I’ve built in my head; praying the house of cards will not collapse.

When I visit him for contact, the hour flies by.  We work diligently to communicate important information first, from each side, so we’re not pressured for time.  We’re often surprised when our actual bonding conversations are cut short.  I sit there at the table, itching to hold his hand, touch his face, sit in his lap, or simply beg him to hold me.  I am not allowed to do any of these things.  Occasionally, when times have been hard, I’ve felt my heart stop as I nearly made the mistake of kissing him for comfort, or even out of the old but fading habit.  My heart races after time is called.  We briefly hug and he steps away. I try to keep sight of him for every moment I can before one of us has to walk behind that door.  

When I visit him for video, I struggle with discomfort and pain from the equipment provided, and I know he does the same.  We often comment that the struggles are worth the benefit of seeing one another.  I feel like crying every time I get the timing wrong, and I see something going on that he will miss out on because I chose to see him at this time, or was delayed by circumstance.  The entire time we talk, a clock counts down the hour by the second on the corner of the screen.  We’ve learned at which second to begin saying goodbye,  and say I love you again and again while we can before the screen goes black.  

Tick tock, tick tock.  I go home, try to wind down, and wait for tomorrow’s clock.  

7 Days a Week

52 Weeks a Year

8,760 Hours

42 Million Heartbeats

1 Man. 1 Woman. 1 Prison.  

 

Clayton's Recommendations

Author's Note: This is a transcribed letter from Clayton Allison with his personal recommendations for improving the quality of living for PC inmates at Goose Creek Correctional Center (GCCC). He wrote this letter in the hopes of getting it into the hands of policy makers who are attempting to correct issues and improve conditions inside Alaska's prisons. To our faithful blog readers, we apologize for the delay in posts and appreciate your patience during this busy season. We're currently looking into options for increasing the efficiency of posts even while busy with other FCA activities. If you would be interested in receiving updates in a podcast format (only an option we are considering at this point) please leave us a comment below.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

To whom it may concern:

My name is Clayton Allison. I am a prisoner at Goose Creek Correctional Center in Wasilla, Alaska. I have been through both trial and sentencing. My mandatory release date is set for 2035. I have been a prisoner since February, 2015. Upon coming to GCCC I have been a “PC” or Protective Custody prisoner. My official designation is “AS-5” or Administrative Segregation level 5. I am actively appealing my case.

AS-5 means that I voluntarily asked for protective custody. I am not on PC or administrative segregation status because of any medical, mental health, or punitive hold. I have never had any write-ups or punitive actions. You could say I strive to be the model prisoner. I take no medications other than my inhaler for Asthma. I have no drug or alcohol abuse history. I have no interest in suicide or escape. I am absolutely no threat to the prison institution. I requested to be PC because I wanted to avoid the fighting, drugs, alcohol, extortion and constant threats that “GP” or General Population is well known for. I tell you these things to give you a little background on me. I would like to give you my recommendation for improvements to GCCC and its PC population.

First, some background history and information. For some time GCCC here operated a PC “mod” or module that was very unique. It allowed men in segregation to apply to be housed there under rules similar to GP. It was called “K” or Kilo Mod. Almost everyone in K Mod was from a PC or segregation background, and wanted somewhere to be safe from all the GP drama. Applicants were screened. This created a safer environment to house PC or segregation inmates that didn’t want any trouble. I was housed in K Mod.

Unlike segregation, K Mod allowed its members almost every privilege of GP. Everything from daily contact visits to 10+ hours out of our cells every day. If you caused trouble, you were kicked out back to segregation. K Mod just made sense in that it was a healthier environment to do long amounts of prison time. If Prisoner A has 10 years to serve and can’t do it in GP, he serves his time in segregation. Prisoner A spends 10 years locked in a tiny cell 23 hours a day. Prisoner B also has 10 years to serve, but he is lucky enough to serve it in GP or a K Mod equivalent. Which prisoner do you think we’ll have trouble adapting once released?

I do not believe that segregation should be used for long-term housing. It is proven to be detrimental to mental health, and causes problems with reentry into society. Most end up in segregation for protection, only to be punished instead. Segregation is operated on the strictest prison rules. It is referred to by prisoners as “The Hole”. Segregation is used as punishment for GP prisoners. When written up for fighting or other infractions, the prisoner is given a set amount of time to spend in segregation. Everything from 15 days to 6 months or a year. The irony being while GP prisoners are sent to segregation for punishment, PC prisoners are placed there for our “protection.” The difference being that the PC prisoner is stuck there!

We are told that we have the option to go back to GP whenever we want to sign the release of liability form. That’s so if we get assaulted or beat up, we can’t sue because we asked for the transfer to GP. So truly, those of us that are PC or AS-5 do not have a real option. Once GCCC made the decision to close K Mod and reopen it as a GP mod, all PC prisoners were moved back to segregation, signed to go to GP, or ended up in SMU.

Let me tell you about SMU. SMU stands for Special Management Unit. SMU Mod is unique in many ways. It has a mixed population of PC in orange clothing and GP in yellow clothing. SMU runs off of the segregation rules. Unlike segregation, SMU has a GP population that are given GP rights. For example, the GP guys in yellow here are allowed to watch the two TVs present in the mod. They are allowed more property rights, and a variety of other privileges. The PC population in orange are kept locked down for 22 hours a day.

Here are my recommendations for change for segregation, AS-5, SMU inmates:

Contact Visitation: Currently here in SMU we are allowed one contact our visit per week. Segregation inmates are allowed no contact visits. I feel that contact visitation is important. It allows us to give our loved ones a hug and speak with them without anything between you. Here in SMU we had to fight through the grievance process to get one hour a week. I feel this is inadequate. I know the prison is easily capable of giving us contact visits 6 days a week. The ability to have 6 1-contact-hours per week would greatly help prisoner morale and mental health.

Visitor List: Currently here at GCCC prisoners are allowed to have no more than 10 people on their visitor list. People not on the list are not allowed to visit. I feel that this severely impacts big families. This forces inmates to pick and choose between their family and friends. A visitor list is allowed to be changed by the inmate once a year in August. I feel this punishes families and the prisoner. I recommend that the limit be changed to 20 people on the visitor list, and the ability to change the list twice a year instead of once. This would allow prisoners with large families to rotate people through to see them more often. For example, I tallied my family and friends, and found that I easily have 40+ people who would like to visit me. That would take me over four years rotating once a year to see them all!

Property: Currently here in SMU and segregation, prisoner property is severely restricted. We are allowed Phase 1 Commissary items only. The prisoners being punished for fighting and other write-ups are on similar restrictions. Why punish those that are staying out of trouble? Where is the incentive to be good? Many here expressed the opinion that they might as well break the rules and go to “The Hole” because it would be no different!

The three different commissary phases 1, 2 and 3 are referred to as the prisoner incentive commissary program. The higher the phase, the better the items you can order. For example, currently here in SMU the PC population is not allowed to have: fingernail clippers, personal clothing, personal shoes, radio, MP3 player, a real toothbrush, games like chess or Uno, food like instant rice or mac & cheese and many others. If we were allowed to order phase 2 and 3, there would be ample incentive to follow the rules. Restricting our property can’t be called anything other than a punishment. Why are we being punished?

I am told by staff that this is the rules for segregation and if I don’t like it to go to GP! There is no difference in treatment between segregation for punishment of a write-up and segregation for protective custody. I contend that those PC inmates with proven history of compliance to all rules should be given better treatment and privileges than even GP mods. Phase 2 and 3 property would at least help us survive the isolation of segregation better for longer sentences.

Rec/Gym: Currently here in SMU we are given one hour in the morning for “Rec” or recreation. SMU has an attached indoor gym to the mod. The gym is an empty half-court hard floor. There is one basketball hoop and two basketballs provided. That is all. It is open to the outside air via a large square grated window with no glass. Whatever temperature it is outside, the gym is. Often, the floor is wet from rain or melting snow. Sometimes it is cold enough, the basketballs won’t bounce. There is no gym equipment available. Due to window positioning and time of day, we do not get any sunlight. This needs to be improved. Either we need to be given access to outdoor rec or given access to the real indoor gym with all the equipment. When I was in K Mod. We were given access to both outdoor rec and the use of their fine indoor gym with equipment that GP mods use. If nothing else, provide us with some equipment to work out with. Medicine balls or something! Our complete lack of sunshine can’t be healthy. No wonder so many are depressed. Prison is hard enough without adding, “SAD” or Seasonal Affective Disorder from lack of sunlight.

Programming/Classes: Currently here in SMU there are a few classes offered to inmates. My limited knowledge on this from others is that there is large demand for more classes on court ordered subjects like drug and alcohol treatment, or sexual offenses and addictions. More mental health classes and support would be popular.

Jobs/Training: There is a large demand for jobs. Many apply but few get hired. There is a prison phenomenon I have witnessed where a Prisoner A has a job. Prisoner B wants that job so he works to get Prisoner A in trouble, so he’s fired. Now Prisoner B can apply for that job. It makes jobs risky because other inmates will purposefully try to get you fired. I have applied for multiple different jobs from librarian to ITT with no success. More job availability would be a very positive thing. If no jobs are available, possibly job training classes could be offered? It would certainly help with recidivism if inmates could get job training before they were released. A resume and job interview class would also probably be hugely beneficial.

Time Free From Cell: Currently here in SMU we are locked down in our cell 22 hours a day. We are given one hour for rec, 30 minutes for phone calls, and 30 minutes for law library research. We are let out 1 ½ hours in the morning and 30 min. at night. In reality, this time is the only time we get to take a shower, get a razor to shave, get clippers for our nails, get a broom and mop to clean our cell, use the microwave, grab a book off the book cart to read, empty our trashcan, pick up needed institutional forms from the “CO” or Correctional Officer at the podium, see the barber for a haircut, pick up toilet paper, pickup clothes from laundry, socialize with others, AND use the gym, make a phone call or do legal research. There is just not enough time given. Often there is a waiting line. Any additional time given outside our cell would benefit us all mentally and physically.

SMU Mixed Population: Currently SMU has a population with both GP in yellow and PC in orange. This complicates things because they cannot be out at the same time. If all the GP men in yellow were moved to medical or another mod, all the more numerous PC men in orange could be let out easier for longer periods of time.

Video Visit Room: Currently SMU has two closet sized rooms that inmates can have a video visit in with family. The rooms have the video screen, camera, and a small blue chair in them. When seated, the camera viewing the inmate is much too high. The chair provided makes the inmate viewable from the chin or nose up. Either the camera needs to be lowered or a taller chair provided. More concerning is the fact the video visit room has no intercom button to push to get the CO’s attention on shift. This means there is often no way to get their attention to let you out of the locked room. There is no bathroom in there! I have been left in the video visit room AFTER my one hour visit for over 1 ½ hours before. Banging on the door and screaming for help does no good. What if an inmate had a medical emergency, or couldn’t hold it and needed a bathroom? This issue should be looked at.

Microwave: Currently there is one microwave available here in SMU. It is overworked, overheats and often there is not enough time for everyone to use it. It would make more sense to have two microwaves to reduce the working load. It would also reduce the line of waiting people! There are several foods like oatmeal that we can order that you need the microwave for.

Information/Documents: The “PO’s,” or Parole Officers are the people that inmates talk to for important information. Occasionally they charge you for said information at a rate of $0.15 a page. I don’t feel this practice is right at all. Prisoner A is indigent, and has no money. He wants information on drug treatment centers he can enroll in once he’s released. He can’t get it because he can’t afford the copies. I feel that prisoners that ask for important, reasonable information relating to succeeding when released should not be charged for it!

These are some of my ideas. Thank you for your time!

Clayton Allison

Sept 28 - Freezing and Frustrated

Monday, September 28

Over the last week, communicating with Clayton has been a testament to patience under pressure and extreme injustice.  The conditions in the SMU continue to present problem after problem; jeopardizing the health of inmates and pressuring them to transfer into the potential dangers of General Population status in order to obtain some semblance of "normal" prison life.  Many of the inmates forced into this transfer are fighting for fair treatment, but few have made any real progress over the last week.

Clayton described the process of "self-advocacy" for inmates within the prison, and outside it, as complex and nearly futile.  An SMU inmate passed along information to him early on about how to contact the Alaska Office of the Ombudsman; explaining that complaints needed to be submitted in writing, only after completing the complex in-house complaint process with the prison.  At a minimum, this process includes:

1. Filing a "Cop-out" form with the appropriate department and awaiting a response,
2. Filing a grievance within 30 days if the initial cop-out is rejected,
3. Appealing the grievance decision if denied again (or screened without consideration), and THEN  
4. Submitting a letter to the Ombudsman with the cop-out, grievance, and appeal paperwork included for review. 

Overall, this process generates a lot of paperwork for both inmates and the facility to deal with, and draws a lot of attention to inmates who are attempting to advocate for themselves and others - potentially branding them as "trouble-makers".  

Freezing Cold Conditions As Winter Sets In

One of the primary concerns Clayton has voiced since his first day forced into the SMU is the freezing cold temperature in the mod.  At first, it seemed like an unfortunate circumstance that would eventually be corrected after the chaos of transferring over 100 men was sorted out.  After all, Clayton has had frequent difficulty with being chilly, and their warm clothes and jackets had been taken from them during the transfer.  However, now it appears that conditions are only likely to worsen, and inmates will be forced to endure the cold without any additional protective under- or outer-wear.

Clayton and his new roommate (whom we will call Edgar) - a friend from his bible study who he gets along with famously - had the unfortunate circumstance of being placed in the cell directly next to the SMU gym area.  At first, Clayton had believed the gym had a grated window for seeing outside, but it turns out that it is a grated opening - which appears to let in outside air.  Someone pointed out to him that there are big drains in the floor, as some method of clearing out the water that comes inside.  This means, however, that every time the door to the gym is opened and closed, it is sucking the heat out of the mod as Clayton and Edgar sit closest.

Clayton has discussed extensively the various methods he, Edgar, and others have been trying out to keep warm.  Early on, an inmate who had to burn through a large amount of popcorn before it would be taken away was giving away free bags of popcorn to other inmates (a normally valuable commodity).  Clayton and Edgar discovered that they could microwave the popcorn bags and cradle them, or stuff them inside of their shirts, as a temporary boost to their body temperature.  Hot chocolate is another current favorite to hold for warmth.  They have also tried collecting a small amount of warm water in their sink, and dipping parts of their body into the warm water, before quickly drying off and diving back under their covers.

For an unimaginable reason, the General Population inmates in the SMU are allowed standard-issue jackets and hats, but the protective custody inmates are treated with near-punitive restrictions and are denied them.  At one point, a guard who was concerned about temperatures provided inmates with a sign-up sheet for coats and hats at the laundry area - in the hopes that if enough people signed up, they would be allowed to have them.  However, it seems as if this basic comfort - afforded to all other inmates - will be permanently denied.

Another method folks have used is layering the various limited fabrics they have access to.  Clayton said he was near tears with laughter as he watched an inmate put on:

• a pair of boxers for each arm,
• a sock for each hand,
• a blanket inside his clothes for his core, and
• a pair of underwear on his head for a hat.  

Clayton has had more and more difficulty dealing with the cold temperatures as time passes. He's staying under his blanket as much as possible - as are many of the other inmates.  He said it has not been uncommon to see inmates wearing their blankets out of the mod to retrieve food trays and complete other tasks.  He described a group of D&D players from K Mod all huddled around a D&D book wrapped up in blankets; unable to play because their dice were taken away, and instead telling stories of past campaigns.  However, just yesterday, Clayton was scolded for leaving his room wrapped in his blanket, and guards told all inmates that wearing blankets in the common rooms would no longer be allowed.

On Monday, Clayton vented his frustration during his nightly visit once again.

"It's freezing!" he explained.  "Even the guards said so!  I stood there and I watched a guard walk up to another guard rubbing his arms and saying 'Man... it's cold in here!' and I was like, 'See?  It is cold!  Why won't they give us warmer clothes?  Then he was asking about why they were running the fans all day [normally used for air conditioning in summer] with it this cold."

Clayton's frustration is compounded by the fact that many of the inmates already own items they could use to combat the extreme cold, and are being denied access to them.  For example, Clayton owns under-shirts, long underwear, extra socks, a sweatshirt, and other items - previously purchased through commissary - which he is not allowed access to because it is against SMU policy regarding protective custody inmates.

Denial of Access to Vitamins

Adding insult to injury, many of the inmates in the mod are also being denied access to vitamins - a practical solution for battling illness in such cold conditions.  On Wednesday, Clayton woke up to a sore throat, and has wavered between sickness and health since that time.  For most inmates, including Clayton, their personal commissary supplies of vitamins were seized from their property during the transfer, and they are limited in what can be re-purchased through commissary.  Clayton filed a cop-out and was directed to place his request for vitamins to the nightly medical line; but, he is still awaiting arrival of the vitamins he requested.  Many other inmates, including Clayton's elderly roommate Edgar, submitted similar cop-outs and were flatly denied them, claiming a non-required standard of care.

Therefore, many of these inmates are currently fighting what seems to be a losing battle to gain access to vitamins. For now, Clayton said there is not much he, or anyone else, can do but continue to battle the cold and drink tea if they were lucky enough to already have some in their property before the transfer.

Challenges Similar to Administrative Segregation Mod

Another factor Clayton has to battle to maintain his health is lack of sleep.  The combination of the cold and the new noisy environment are ensuring that he gets little-to-no sleep at night, and frequently ends up sleeping through the time they are released in the mornings to compensate.

"We'd gotten used to Kilo," he explained, "and this place is completely different.  It's loud."

We remember Clayton telling us weeks ago, before the K Mod upheaval, that his roommates had gotten on his case once for making too much noise at night rustling papers as he wrote letters.  The K Mod had been a very quiet and very scheduled environment.  In contrast, the SMU seems to be more like the Administrative Segregation area in volume.  Clayton now regrets disposing of the ear plugs he had purchased from commissary after replacing them with headphones from his MP3 player for nightly listening.  He has ordered new ones, but they will not arrive in commissary until October 3rd.

Another similarity to the Administrative Segregation mod has come through issues with the toilets in their cells.  Very shortly after the transfer into the SMU, inmates in many cells began having issues with the toilets.  Unlike a general population mod - the SMU has individual toilets in each cell, because inmates are locked in them for the majority of the day (22-23 hours).

However, many of these toilets began backing up very early on, including Clayton's.  Worse yet, they remained that way for hours - or in some cases days - before the 'work order' to repair them was completed.  Clayton described plunging shampoo into his toilet in an effort to combat the smell.  In the interim, an unoccupied cell was being used to allow inmates with blocked toilets to use the bathroom - but they were only allowed to access it during times they were released - once or twice a day.  Otherwise, inmates just had to hold it.

Shortly after his toilet was fixed the next day, guards made an announcement in the mod that anyone with a clogged toilet would be charged $56 to their books for repair.  Clayton was extremely concerned, as he had learned how finicky the plumbing system was (by design) while in Admin. Seg.  He explained that his toilet had been trying to back up again that very same morning, without flushing anything other than liquids.  For now, it is still working, but there is no way to know if he will need to fight against this kind of charge in the future.

Restricted Commissary and Property

Many of the other property restrictions protective custody inmates in the SMU are being forced to endure are similar in nature to the restrictions placed on someone being housed in the Administrative Segregation mod.  Many of these inmates have done nothing deserving of punishment within the facility, and contrarily are housed in protective custody status due to threats from other inmates who get to live in standard conditions when released back to general population.

For example, general population inmates in the SMU are allowed to have:

• Jackets and hats
• MP3 Players and radios (necessary to hear the broadcast from the mod TVs),
• pens and pencils, and
• other normal commissary supplies. 

However, protective custody inmates who were suddenly forced into the SMU had all of these items, which were already owned through commissary purchases in K Mod, taken from them permanently.  Even more maddening, despite the fact that inmates were allowed to sort through their property and prioritize what to store and what to dispose of or disburse to family, the instructions from inmates did not appear to be passed along to property, or followed.

"This is so messed up!" Clayton explained while holding up the botched paperwork in front of the video camera.  "They've mixed everything up, and they say that I cannot come back there to sort it out again.  They're just going to force me to get rid of everything!"

Clayton had taken special care to sort through his items in front of 2 officers when given the opportunity.  He explained that the boxes were clearly labeled as 'for dispersal' to his wife, and 'for storage' in the property area.  He had made sure that highly expensive commissary items would be stored for now, so that if restrictions or circumstances changed, he would have access to it again in the future without having to purchase them again.  However, the list provided to him by property for required dispersal now included a hodge-podge of the items from both boxes, with other items not appearing on any list at all.

Advocating From The Inside

Clayton explained to family early on that he planned to follow staff instructions and advocate for himself through the paper process.  It took him a while to discover the location of the Segregation Handbook, and ways to look up statewide DOC policy in the law library.  Even when he found them, however, his access is extremely limited.  It is restricted to the hour or so he is allowed to be outside of his cell to do everything from research, to shower, to calling family.  Therefore, we have attempted to send them to him as personal copies by mail, but some of the most critical items seem to have been delayed.

Clayton has moved forward, and filed cop-outs for many of the issues outlined above and in previous posts, including:

1. A cop-out to the Superintendent regarding contact visitation being denied to all non-punitive SMU and Administrative Segregation inmates - in contrast to DOC Statewide Policy #810.02.VII.D.2 which requires a minimum of 1 contact hour per week
1. Clayton received a response to this cop-out from the Superintendent.  It said that Clayton had been considered "General Population" while housed in K Mod previously, but now was considered "Protective Custody," so visits would not be restored.  It included no mention of, or response to, the conflict with statewide policy requiring contact visitation.  Clayton has already filed a grievance in response.
2. A cop-out requesting restoration of privileges held in K Mod for PC Inmates, referencing a lack of behavior that would require such punitive and unbalanced restrictions.
1. Clayton received a cop-out response on the restoration of privileges as well.  It contained the same reply about the change in status, and Clayton has also already filed a grievance.  
3. A cop-out explaining the challenges with extreme cold in his location in the SMU, and requesting extra blankets, coats, hats, etc. to deal with this challenge.  We are not aware of a response to this cop-out having been returned.   
4. New cop-outs which are required to sort out the mess of Clayton's property issues - one of which he plans to file with the guard who oversaw the process, and provided him with his original receipt.  

Clayton expressed that the responses he'd received, as well as other responses to many other inmates, seemed to all have a general theme.  Many of them are stating that the solution to all mistreatment problems is to opt into placement in general population.  This is a direct implication that the sub-standard treatment and housing conditions of protective custody inmates is somehow acceptable, while inmates and families alike are trying to argue that this kind of treatment to any cooperative and non-combative inmate is unacceptable.

"I fully plan to grieve these things if they come back negative," Clayton explained to us in complete seriousness.  "I will go all the way to the Ombudsman."

Clayton explained that it was difficult not to become angry over such obvious unfair and cruel treatment to so many in the mod, including his elderly roommate.

"I feel like I'm being treated like a sub-human," he continued.  "We've done nothing to deserve this.  I have always followed the rules I was aware of to the letter.  I have never been written up for anything.  I have always tried to be helpful and stay out of the way, and now this."

Many responses from guards have been hopeful about finding help; such as the guard who hoped to show the need for coats and hats through the sign-up sheet, and the guards who have advised family to "be loud" outside of the prison about what is happening to the K Mod inmates.  Others have been downright cruel; mocking the inmates as they struggle with such basic life issues.  One such guard recently denied Clayton access to a stapler, and refused to staple the paperwork for him; when attempting to file a grievance.

"Hmmm... I don't think you're allowed to have the stapler," the guard mocked with a smile on his face.  "Too dangerous."

"I just stood there feeling stupid," Clayton said describing his response.  "I didn't know what to do.  I was like... think Clayton, think!  Finally I asked him for a piece of scotch tape to try and tape the pages together."

"Yeah, I guess that would be safe enough," the guard responded, handing over a small piece of tape.

Wrapping Up

Despite growing frustration over the treatment if inmates in the SMU, Clayton constantly circles back around in discussion to any positives he can identify.

"I'm safe.  I'm fed.  I'm clean." he chants.

"Is there anything you want everyone on the outside to know right now?" his wife asked earlier in the week, on the anniversary of Jocelynn's death.

"Tell them I miss everybody, and I love them," he said with a sad smile.  "I love my baby girl too."

Sept 18 - Advocacy By Family Is Against Policy

Friday, September 18

After Clayton and our family had received so many threatening statements from GCCC staff back in March, the family became very cautious in our interactions with the facility.   Life began to fall into a new routine after Clayton was placed into K Mod, and we all learned to adjust to the new patterns.  We communicated with staff at the visitation desk as we checked in and checked out; generally very pleased with their level of service and kindness to families and inmates alike.  We occasionally communicated with departments as needed to pick up property disbursements from Clayton or other common activities, but otherwise were pleased with his new access to a better quality of life at the prison.

Clayton also was getting used to his new surroundings throughout the summer.  He focused on being a good inmate, and following the rules to the best of his ability.  He didn't want to make trouble, and was excited about new opportunities to attend bible study, visit the library, share stories and advice with other inmates who sought him out, and play games with individuals and groups.  He was able to establish a letter-writing routine that had some inmates convinced early on that he was actually writing a novel.  Overall he wanted to lay low, not make waves, and communicate with family, friends, and other supporters as much as possible.  He was getting to know some people for the first time through their letters of support, and was excited about establishing these new relationships.

Speak Up For The Oppressed

In mid-July, Clayton slowly started to become more concerned about things that were happening around him.  He had recently been going through preparations for, and the events of, his sentencing hearings on July 8th and July 15th.  During these trips back and forth from GCCC to the courthouse in Palmer, Clayton had many very difficult and frightening experiences with how he was being treated during transport.  It required him to miss large amounts of sleep, fight to rest through extreme cold and discomfort, and pray for safety when he was repeatedly incorrectly placed among general population inmates.

"I don't know how anyone functions in court to make any kind of real decisions, or not look completely strung out in front of a jury," he explained to us.  "It seems like it would be impossible to do for very many days in a row."

Clayton also began noticing incidents that were taking place within K Mod between inmates and guards.  Some of them were mildly concerning, while others were really worrying him.  Then an incident happened on July 23rd which changed Clayton's way of thinking significantly.

On Thursday, July 23rd, Clayton shared a contact visit with his family as he did most nights.  As his wife was leaving, she noted that the visitation staff locked the inmates within one of the small interview rooms in the visitation building while escorting family members out of the facility; something they often did when they were short-staffed.  Then, as she was leaving the facility's front desk area, she noted that the guard confirmed over her radio that the men were awaiting pick-up in the interview room and needed an escort back to K Mod.

Instead of being picked up like they were used to, Clayton and the approximately 6 men who were with him found themselves waiting for an extremely long period of time - well over an hour.  They began to become convinced that they had been forgotten entirely.  The men had already been processed and then sat through a full hour-long visit with family, and now one of them had the unfortunate need to use the bathroom.

They were at a complete loss for what to do.  They had no way to page guards for help.  The man waited for as long as he could, and then eventually apologized to the other men in the room before peeing in the corner, because there was simply no other option.  They told him they understood, because many of the rest of them were beginning to worry when they would have the same problem.  Eventually guards showed up to retrieve them, and the men were surprised to find out that they had not been forgotten, but left intentionally.

The guards began to scold the man who had been forced to pee in the corner; threatening to throw him into "the hole" (administrative segregation) for the action.  The man was obviously thoroughly embarrassed, and apologized profusely, but the guards only continued to harass him.  Clayton became angry that they would treat someone so unfairly.  He and the other men in the room spoke up for the man, and pointed out that it was not his fault they had been locked in a small room (with only 2 chairs) and no access to a bathroom.  Eventually the guards backed down, and took all of them back to the mod without punishing the man further.

After the incident, Clayton could not shake the event and the unjust treatment of the man from his mind.  The next morning, he opened up the Our Daily Bread message for the day (July 24) and felt as if the Lord was using it to speak to him about what had occurred, and other events he had been seeing.  The message specifically spoke about our responsibility to stand up for others who are being bullied, and speak out against such cruelty.

At his next visitation, Clayton discussed this with us extensively.  He was upset that he was not able to do more to speak up on the man's behalf, after reviewing procedures for grievance.  He felt truly impressed that he wanted to speak out against unjust actions that he was witnessing take place against inmates all around him.  Other inmates had spoken with him about the reality that speaking out about such behavior could lead to increased attention from facility staff, and the potential to be branded as a 'trouble-maker.'   However, Clayton felt that, at a minimum, he should begin noting incidents that occurred so he could relay detail if the opportunity presented itself.

Speaking Up As A Family

Events continued to transpire which grew increasingly worrisome, not only to Clayton, but to those of us gathering his stories.  Men in protective custody were returning from transports severely injured by general population inmates they had been confined and transported with. Other men were being denied medical care during serious events like acute abdominal pain and heart attacks, due to guard disbelief that complaints were genuine.  Shaming incidents continued to take place, and Clayton was seeing what he felt was inappropriate use of "the hole" as punishment for inmates attempting to advocate for themselves or for incidents beyond their control.

In one instance, a man insisted to guards that someone look into tampering which was happening to their food.  He had noticed that all the crackers on every tray had been smashed, and it was not the first time.  He was concerned that the food was being tampered with in other ways.  The guards seemed uninterested in reporting his concerns, and he was thrown in the hole for his insistence.  A couple of weeks later, the tampering with their food continued to worsen until one day they all received "peanut butter sandwiches" with no more peanut butter on them than the size of a dime.  The men had finally had enough, and refused to eat their meal until a lieutenant was called in.  The lieutenant discovered the truth of their claims, brought them replacement sandwiches, and vowed to look into the matter.  However, as far as the men could tell, the original man who identified the tampering trend was never released from segregation.

"That's not right," Clayton said with frustration, "He was worried about our safety, and he was right.  He tried to stick up for all of us and they're punishing him for it.  Some of the guys in the mod are signing a petition to ask for him to be released."

Over time, Clayton's family, and families of other K Mod inmates, began relaying information to authorities who they became aware had begun conducting investigations into DOC, and a recent string of inmate deaths.  Inmates within the K Mod itself also participated in relaying information about their observations and incidents to various authorities, but feared retaliation.  There were concerns about the security of communications being sent out of the prison; for example, legal and protected mail was regularly being read by guard staff who claimed to be "checking for contraband" as they read through private information right in front of inmates.

Retaliation 

After the sudden elimination of the K Mod at GCCC on September 16th, and the transfer of inmates into the SMU, we suspected that the move was retaliatory against K Mod families for our cooperation with authorities.  Guards and staff seemed ill-prepared or completely uninformed of the sudden change, and inmates reported overhearing guards talk among themselves about the reason for the change being due to complaints from K Mod inmates and families.

We, as Clayton's family, feared that it was more-specifically retaliation against us, due to the way Clayton had been called out with the initial 24 inmates who had reputations for being trouble-makers.  However, we never expected the direct threat from a PO on Thursday morning which provided stronger confirmation.

After that threat, we felt trepidatious about how to handle the increasingly complex situation with the facility.  On the one hand, we wanted to be careful not to take action that would put Clayton at greater risk of harm from retaliation.  On the other, we were hesitant to let such a threat slide without holding those responsible accountable for their actions, for fear that they could use that power to hurt or intimidate Clayton further.

"The only way I know how to deal with a blackmailer," Clayton's wife reasoned out that morning, "is to expose their blackmail.  They're acting like they're going to blackmail us with his quality-of-life if we don't stop advocating for him."

Therefore, the family worked diligently all day to publish clear information on the threats that had been made.  At some point, the facility must have caught wind of it, because Clayton was approached by staff again today.

This afternoon, Clayton was able to get a brief call out to his wife about his current status.  He explained that, like yesterday, he had heard they were only going to be released from their cells for 25 brief minutes.  They'd been released at 2:30 pm, and she was on the phone with him when they were called back to their cells at 2:55 pm.  Meaning the more than 100 men being simultaneously released from lock-down had a mere 25 minutes to: use the 16 phones to call family; use the showers; use the microwave and/or hot water pot; access cleaning supplies for their rooms; access clean laundry; request the use of fingernail clippers and razors; and other tasks.  Clayton only ended up with a few brief minutes to talk, but did finally manage to get a shower for the first time since Tuesday.

Immediately after ending his call with his wife, Clayton heard his name called out from the podium, and the guards explained that he was being 'pulled out for medical.'  Clayton was confused, because he didn't have an outstanding medical request that he remembered, but he reported to the podium.  They handcuffed his hands behind his back and escorted him out of the mod.

Circular Conversations

Clayton was surprised to be taken into a room with multiple staff from the prison; a sergeant, a lieutenant, and one of the mod officers.  They explained that they had some questions for him, and they had heard a report that he had recently been threatened by an inmate.

Clayton was completely confused.  He told us that he explained to them that he hadn't been threatened by any inmates since his initial arrival at GCCC when he was taken into protective custody.  The guards seemed to press him for a while about threats from inmates, which he profusely disagreed with, until they finally asked about threats from anyone, including staff.  Suddenly he felt disoriented again.  He explained that he had  felt threatened in an encounter with a PO the day before, when the PO confronted him about his wife "causing problems for them" by contacting the facility and had stated that they could make his life hell.

They asked if he had been threatened physically, and he said no.  He explained that he felt like he was going to be punished for talking to his wife.  The mod officer present was one of the guard staff who was witness to the PO's actions, and Clayton was surprised to hear her contradict his memory of events.  She claimed that the PO had not been threatening him, but had been explaining policy to him.  This left him even more confused.

"I certainly felt threatened in the moment," Clayton told us during video visitation.  "The way he talked to me makes me feel like I've done something wrong."

Then Clayton said that all three staff members launched into a complicated discussion about advocacy by family members being against policy.  They lectured him that it was against GCCC policy to deal with family members, and that they had specific policy prohibiting them from providing information on inmates to anyone.  (In Clayton's case, this argument is relatively moot, because his wife has a power of attorney to act on his behalf.)

Clayton tried to reason with them, explaining that he had not been instructing his wife to call the facility.  He had barely been able to speak with her, and was in no way able to control her actions on the outside.

They continued to emphasize that it was not appropriate for her to advocate for him, and that he needed to advocate for himself by following procedure.  Then they explained to him that he really shouldn't provide his wife with information that would worry her, or make her feel a need to advocate for him.  Overall, Clayton said it felt like the goal of the entire conversation was to somehow get his family not to contact the prison.

"I said... Are you asking me to lie to my wife?" Clayton explained.  "Then they were like, 'Oh no. Oh no..."

They told him that he had not broken any rules, and they were in no way prohibiting him from speaking with his family.  However, he really shouldn't tell people things that would concern them, because the prison's policy was not to speak with them.

"I was like... I can't control my family," Clayton explained to us with obvious confusion and frustration.  "I'm not going to lie to them.  If my wife asked for more information... that's not my fault."

Clayton said he felt like the conversation just continued to go in circles.  Every time he tried to clarify that he felt like he was going to get in trouble for being honest, they would emphasize that he was not breaking any rules... but...

He explained that he had felt intimidated and threatened when the PO spoke with him, The PO hadn't outright said a specific consequence that would happen, but he couldn't understand why the man would even have the confrontation with him otherwise.

"I'm confused," he reiterated to us through the video over and over again.  "Nothing ever got decided or solved."

Clayton kept referring to the sergeant as unpleasant, and when we asked him to clarify, he said the man was acting really ill tempered towards him the whole time.  Eventually he said the man informed him that his investigation was closed, and that the sergeant felt satisfied that Clayton hadn't been threatened.

"Awesome," Clayton's wife said with heavy sarcasm, "They've investigated themselves and found themselves innocent.  Isn't that surprising."  She hated to confuse him more, after the guards had done such an obviously good job of distorting things for him, but she continued to explain that, "Sweetie... I haven't called the facility."

Clayton looked completely confused and distressed.  "You haven't?"

"Not other than to find out where you were on Wednesday, and how to come visit you.  But they were fielding questions from folks about their loved ones all day.  Since then, no."

Clayton grabbed his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut with a heavy sigh before asking, "You haven't called anyone?"

"Oh, I have made some calls," she said with a sad smile, wishing she could tell him more without putting him at further risk.  "But I promise you, I have not called the facility."

"That makes no sense," he groaned, "I don't get it..."

We explained to Clayton that we could only assume the meeting was meant to be an 'official response' of some kind to the report of the threats against him.  However, a genuine investigation of such a report would obviously not be coming from staff within the facility.  It seemed to us as if the staff had only continued to weave a false impression to Clayton that his family was somehow drowning the facility in angry calls or emails.  The conversation had obviously left Clayton feeling very confused and unsure of himself or what was expected of him, but he seemed to shake off a lot of the confusion after realizing that the impressions he'd been given about family contact with the facility were not based in reality.

Wrapping Up

Clayton wrapped up our visit with more information on how things were going within SMU.  He was very excited to report that staff had completed the monumental effort of clearing out the bags of property which had previously been filling up the mod's gym area.  He hoped it would mean that they may get an opportunity in the future to use the gym.

He was also excited to report that the Chaplain who worked through their Emmaus bible studies with them had come to the mod during the brief time they had been allowed out.  He had held an extremely brief bible study with the men who were able to attend.  Clayton had instead used the time to shower, but was excited that they may have this opportunity moving forward.  Apparently, the Chaplain wasn't informed of the sudden elimination of K Mod, and had been very confused after arriving in K Mod to a bunch of the wrong prisoners.

That news came as a disappointment to some in the SMU.  Many had been hoping that the last few days were some form of elaborate scare tactic by administrators trying to get protective custody inmates to elect into general population.  However, they were hearing more and more reports that K Mod was now being used for other inmates.  There was a lot of concern about how the K Mod transfers outside of SMU were doing, but no way to know for sure.  Men within the SMU were continuing to opt-out of protective custody as guards emphasized that conditions in the SMU would be the new normal, and asking if they'd "had enough yet."

In the meantime, Clayton is getting along well with his roommate.  The man is an avid storyteller, and they constructed a chess board today out of paper, since they both enjoy playing chess a lot.  Clayton has been able to obtain a couple of the permitted, floppy pen innards they use as pens in the SMU, and is excited about getting back to his letter-writing.  He is looking forward to his next video visit with family, and hopes for less drama in the days to come.

Sept 17 - We Can Make Your Life Hell

Thursday, September 17

We, Clayton's family, didn't hear from him after our final hug Wednesday night until Thursday afternoon, and the conversation was brief.  All the K Mod transfers, who had been moved into the SMU and placed into lock-down, finally had been allowed to leave their cells simultaneously.  They had been advised that their time out would be short.

Clayton got a very brief call out, for only a few minutes, before attempting to race off to the showers.  He had managed to get access to his property that morning, and had gotten a hold of some shampoo and soap.  That night, in video visitation, Clayton was able to tell us more about the day's events, and that there sadly, hadn't been time to get to the showers.

Clayton Directly Threatened by Goose Creek Parole Officer

This morning Clayton was able to access his property and sort through it; deciding what he would keep in storage, and what he would disburse to us.  Ultimately, Clayton was forced to disburse more than half of the property we had paid for with commissary money, because he was no longer allowed to have it in his new location.  Much of what he kept, in storage, he will still not have access to, but he hesitated to get rid of it due to its cost.  For example, the MP3 player and radio his family and friends have helped pay for.  The SMU has TVs, but in contrast to the general population inmates, the protective custody inmates within it are not allowed electronics, and therefore, not able to hear them.

While sorting through his items, temporarily outside of his cell for the process, Clayton was approached by a man he recognized.  It was a Parole Officer (PO) who had interacted with him once before while he was in the Administrative Segregation unit - an unpleasant memory.

Two guards were with Clayton while he was attempting to quickly sort through his property, and were witness to the entire conversation that followed.  Clayton said they generally looked embarrassed, but did not interfere with the PO.

The PO walked directly up to Clayton and began, saying, "I thought we talked about this, Allison."

He was referring to their one-sided conversation about Clayton's family which took place months ago in March.

The PO was insistent and aggressive while telling Clayton, "We do not talk to your wife."  He explained to Clayton that if he did not "get his wife to back off and stop causing problems for us" they could "make his life hell."

Clayton was in shock.

He had no idea what the man was talking about.  His hands trembled as he was forced by the PO to stand there and, "Repeat after me... We. Do. Not. Talk. To. Your. Wife."

Clayton obeyed; repeating the words as instructed.  He said that he felt belittled, and felt like he was being scolded like a child because he had been talking to his wife about the truth of what was going on.  He felt intimidated, and worried about whether they could actually get him in some kind of trouble for talking to her; but speaking with her, and being honest about what was happening to him and everyone else was too important to him.  The PO left, and he attempted to refocus on sorting through his property.

"That's so weird..." Clayton's wife said later, as he described the confrontation across the video screen.  "It makes no sense.  I haven't talked to them at all except to find out what was going on.  Everyone was."

She explained to him that she had been working on preparing social media posts for the Free Clayton Allison campaign until the wee hours of Wednesday morning.  She had been preparing for their upcoming wedding anniversary and the anniversary of Jocelynn's death a week later; knowing the posts would be hard to keep on top of during such an emotional time.  She had woken up late that day, early afternoon really, to a panicked set of voice and text messages.  She had slept-in until long after the chaos had begun, and panic had set in.  The messages were from his lawyers, friends, and families of other inmates - all trying to figure out what was going on.

"I got a glimpse... that Clayton had been moved to general population?... Is this true?"

"We are hearing a rumor that K Mod has been disbanded. Have you heard anything like that?"

"I still haven't heard from my man..."

"I freaked out when I saw it."

Clayton's wife freaked out as well.  The idea that the K Mod would just cease-to-be overnight felt too insane to be reality, and once she was able to confirm it, she only spoke with facility staff long enough to determine when and how she could visit him.  The idea that this PO would threaten him, by singling her out specifically, when visitation staff indicated they had been fielding questions all day was nonsensical.  She was angry that they would imply to him that she was somehow drowning the facility in communication, and use that lie to worry him.  In reality, she was spending most of her time relaying information on what was going on to everyone outside of the facility.

Clayton and Family Previously Threatened by Goose Creek Administrative Staff

This is not the first time that Clayton or his family have been threatened by administrative staff at GCCC, including this particular PO.  His wife remembers the threats initially made while he was still stuck in Administrative Segregation months ago.  She took notes, but did not publish the threats themselves on the blog at that time - even though she did summarize the events in a less direct manner - because she was attempting to establish and maintain positive relationships with facility staff, so that Clayton's heath and safety would be taken care of.

Now she fears that Clayton is at even greater risk if the threats against him are not publicly known.

Back when Clayton first arrived at GCCC, visitation was an early problem.  In a brief meeting in late February, his family spoke with the facility Superintendent about the events that erupted when Clayton arrived at GCCC, his immediate resulting placement in protective custody, and the extreme level of media coverage which had led to many of the issues.  They also requested that Clayton's approved visitors list not be limited to 10 people, because statewide DOC policy (810.02.VII.C.2) states that the Superintendent is the only individual authorized to make exceptions on a "case-by-case basis."  Clayton's immediate family alone is well over 10 people.  The Superintendent requested an email outlining information about Clayton's desired visitors.

However, after sending the requested email, Clayton's wife was surprised to receive a phone call from the Superintendent himself the next day, March 2nd.  He was very upset, and complained about the involvement and advocacy of Clayton's family and friends.  Then he shocked her completely.

He explained that there were "various factors" which had to be considered when evaluating whether an inmate would be placed into K Mod after being taken into protective custody.  Keep in mind, the only alternative was permanent placement in SMU or Administrative Segregation under lock-down, while K Mod inmates lived similarly to inmates in general population.  He emphasized to her that one of the considerations was the "administrative burden" of the individual, including "having to deal with their family."

Clayton's wife was stunned.

She could not believe he would threaten Clayton's quality of life, by threatening to prohibit his placement into K Mod, in response to 1 meeting and 2 requested/required emails.  She informed the Superintendent that she was actually actively reigning-in the questions, concerns, and feedback from an entire population of people desperately wanting find out Clayton's status and when/if/how they could see him.

"I am the reason these people are not descending on your facility," she tried to explain, "I am asking them to go through me; to help you."

She emphasized the sheer number of people who were regularly asking her for information, and that she had, so far, been encouraging them not to seek information from the facility itself.  After brief reflection on this information, the Superintendent seemed to back away from his position that the level of involvement they were having to deal with was somehow extreme.

The Superintendent instead emphasized that Clayton should "take responsibility" and "follow procedure" to advocate for himself.  Clayton's wife pointed out that it was nigh-unto-impossible for Clayton to do that when, up to that point, he had never been briefed on any procedures or even seen a Prisoner Handbook, much less the Segregation Handbook, to even know what the procedures were.

"The only reason my husband understands how anything works," his wife explained, "is from A) inmates from Anchorage he is rooming with trying to explain their expectations, or B) from ME, during my visitation time after speaking with your staff and reading the handbook myself."

The Superintendent seemed surprised that this was the case, saying, "Well, that shouldn't be."

Then he assured her that Clayton would be given the opportunity to see the handbook before the end of the day, and that Clayton's visitation issues would be sorted out efficiently; which ultimately they were.  Although, he never approved an expansion of Clayton's visitation list beyond 10.

Later that same day, a guard told Clayton that he had been "chewed out" by his superiors.  He explained very seriously that "only trouble-makers ask for the handbook," and that Clayton needed to "get [his] family to back off" or they could "make life difficult for him".  He only gave Clayton 1 hour to read the handbook before taking it away, but fortunately, Clayton is a speed-reader.  A female PO met with Clayton earlier in the day about the process of getting assigned to K Mod.  She, also, had emphasized that he needed to "reign in his family."

Previous Threat from Thursday's PO

Clayton would continue to hear comments from guards about his family over the next few days, but it seemed to settle down again until his next meeting with a PO on March 23rd.  It would be the first, and only, time Clayton would meet with this particular PO until he was threatened by him again this Thursday, September 17th, on Clayton's 10th wedding anniversary.

After the initial meeting on March 23rd, Clayton described this male PO as very brisk, and explained that the meeting had been extremely short.  The PO turned on a recording device and walked through a pre-determined list of information.  Then the PO turned the recorder off, and expressed that now they needed to "talk about your family," and the problem they presented, "off the record."  Clayton did not remember the PO's name, because he had not been given a pen, and has difficulty with remembering names.

Clayton had left the March 23rd meeting in a panic, convinced that family and friends must somehow be plaguing the facility with phone calls or emails.  His family was surprised by the news, as they had not contacted the facility again, other than daily interactions with the staff at the visitation desk, since the incidents on March 2nd.  He had also explained to his family that the PO made insinuations that "people like you" don't get into K Mod.

"Get the word out, hard core," he had relayed at the time.  "Do not call about me... email... letter.  They’re labeling me as a needy and troublesome inmate.”

Leading up to this meeting, Clayton had been excitedly talking to us for days about how he was preparing a list of questions he would finally be able to ask so he would understand more about how to do things and what to expect.  The PO refused to let him speak.  He was completely disheartened, as he had been hopeful that the meeting would provide much needed information.  Instead, he ended up having a few questions answered by a guard who was kind enough to take the time while bringing him back to his segregation cell.

Moving Forward 

As Clayton's family, we now fear further retaliation from staff at the facility, and are attempting to get the word out about the threats that have been made against him.  We wish to ensure that these events are well-known, so that it is not easy to excuse away failure to protect him or ensure his well-being in the future.  Please share this blog post with everyone you know, on every platform of social media possible, and please pray for his safety and peace of mind.  Clayton is a person who needs physical contact with those he loves, and the loss of contact visitation is devastating.

If the events described in this blog disturb you, and you wish to challenge the behavior of DOC staff against Alaska inmates and their families, please learn more about the issues and speak out.  Inmates are human beings. DOC claims to have "community reintegration" as a goal, but is systematically cutting off inmates from loved ones, and declaring advocacy by family as inappropriate.  This not only hurts inmates, but their innocent mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, children, and friends who are caught up in this heartless system.  These are our loved ones.  No one wants to see them become successful community members more than we do.