I am a Death Row inmate responding to the letter you published by Marco A. Davidson, about inmate Carpenter. I don’t understand how you would acknowledge such animosity, let alone publish in your paper. On page 18, it specifically says, “Please do not use offensive language. Articles that are newsworthy that will encourage and help the prison populace are welcomed.”
I don’t see in anyway how this person’s article made it to your paper. Especially when it spewed nothing but insults and what he perceived to be the truth. Rather than you do your homework, you just publish it.
Here’s my rebuttal to that letter.
I want it to be clear, I am in no way sticking up, defending, or condoning what David Carpenter did or didn’t do. I am objecting to this guy’s attitude towards another human being.
This person has no respect for another human being by calling another person an animal. He has no respect for humans period. To point out another person’s physical infirmities, mocking him for his personal characteristics which he has no control is like mocking someone in a wheelchair who’s deaf, blind, etc.
One day this guy is going to get out and people higher on the totem pole are going to look down on him. They are going to judge him for being a convict. He will be looked at like nothing more than a menace to society for having been in prison. By his vindictive attitude, what is he going to do?
Let me drive my point home, who knows if David Carpenter or the David Carpenters in all prisoners and all Death Rows is redeemed or not. But, the Marco Davidson’s of the world and their attitudes forecloses the possibility of redemption, not just for Carpenter but for the writers of the letter.
We live in an environment that is very invalidating. We are not defined by the changes we have made or the men we have become, but by the crimes for which we have been incarcerated, or the file in which someone looks in. This goes for all of us, especially us men on Death Row.
Everyone has a story. No one wakes up one morning and just decides they want to be a murder, robber, carjacker, rapist, thief, etc. I know redemption is possible because I have seen it up close and personal. I have seen guys help those I need. I have seen guys mourn for a family member or friend who has past. I have seen guys mourn and get angry because of the attack of 9/11. There are those who are sorry for their crimes, get education, and take self-help groups to learn and better themselves. These things are never told or advertised. You know why, because they don’t do it for the publicity, parole hearings or to earn some certificates. They do it for themselves, to become the best people they can. They want to show that the best way we can that they are sorry for the things they have done.
In closing, I truly hope that the people who see Marco Davidson as society’s waste; don’t have to encounter people like himself. Give him compassion and redemption that he is not willing to give.
DEATH ROW REALITY CHECK
This is a world of different kinds of life,
A change in reality, a world real tight.
You enter this world through cast iron gates.
You can sense all the pressure and feel all the hate.
They’re unloading the bus the man’s laying down the rules,
They’re taking away your rights and giving you your blues.
The next gate is opening, you feel tense down inside,
A new world revealed, you hope to survive.
All eyes are watching as you’re escorted to your cell.
Then it all hits you, you messed up, you have just entered hell.
Not they’re all going to be watching how you’re going to act.
You lay out your program and always watch your back.
Outside worries must be left behind,
It’s all about survival and I’m going to tell you why.
Your tears turn into anger, your happiness into hate,
Now being on your guard is a feeling you soon will relate.
My hell is a heartache of steel and stone, and I’m here all alone.
My place of hell is one small cell that no one wants to own
My body cramps from the cold and damp that chills me to the bone.
For my crimes I pay with time, no jungle holds more danger,
And everyday that comes my way each man remains a stranger.
They came today and took away the man who lived next door,
To end his time, he took his life, he couldn’t take no more.
It’s quiet here on my tier, cruel death has claimed another.
Each day wondering who will be next and hoping it’s not my other neighbor.
I hear the screams, the metal rings of keys and metal locks.
The scrape of feet on concrete as the prison guard patrols his/her block.
I watch my back for there is lack of men who can be trusted.
I just chill, I have the will before it is me who gets dusted.
A secret I should tell you now, but do not tell another,
In order to survive in here a man must wear his cover.
You do not know and will not know what lies within his heart,
For he walks the walk and talks the talk and always plays the part.
But here’s the secret of the frightened man inside…
If something fatal should come my way, should an occurrence take my life,
Please tell my wife I’m grateful for everything we’ve shared and for me all she’s done.
And though I’m gone one thing lives on “My Love Eternally”.
My one desire should I expire, is that on one cries for me.
Just gather around the love of my life and tell her “I’m finally free”.
Death Row Reality Check
This is a world of a different kind of life, a change in reality, a world real tight. You enter this world through cast iron gates; you can sense all the pressure and feel all the hate. They’re unloading the bus, the man’s laying down the rules; they’re taking away your rights and giving you your blues.
The next gate is opening you feel tense down inside, a new world revealed, you hope to survive. All eyes are watching as you’re escorted to your cell, then it all hits you, you messed up, you’ve just entered hell. Now they’re all going to be watching how you’re going to act; you lay out your program and always watch your back.
Outside worries must be left behind, it’s all about survival and I’m going to tell you why. Your tears turn into anger; your happiness into hate, not being on guard is a feeling you soon will relate. My hell is heartache of steel and stone, and I’m here all alone.
My place of hell is one small cell that no one wants to own; my body cramps from the cold and damp that chills me to the bone. For my crimes I pay with time, no jungle holds more danger, and everyday that comes my way each man remains a stranger.
They came today and took away the man who lived next door, to end his time, he took his life, he couldn’t take no more. It’s quiet here on my tier, cruel death has claimed another; each day wondering who will be next, and hoping it’s not my other neighbor. I hear the screams, the metal rings of keys and metal locks, the scrape of feet on the concrete as the prison guard patrols his/her block.
I watch my back for there is a lack of men who can be trusted; I just chill, I have the will before it is me who gets dusted. A secret I should tell you now, but do not tell another: in order to survive in here, a man must wear his cover. You do not know and will not know what lies within his heart, for he walked the walk and talks the talk and always plays the part.
But here’s the secret of the frightened man inside… if something fatal should come my way, should an occurrence take my life, please tell my wife I’m grateful for everything we’ve shared, and for me all she’s done. And though I’m gone one thing lives on, “My love eternally.” My one desire should I expire, is that no one cries for me. Just gather around the love of my life and tell her, “I’m finally free.”
DEATHROW CONCERNS
I have some concerns on the news letter. You mention that death row stories welcome and yet there has not been any letters, or mentions of anything about death row.
Not only that, there is continued news about the graduates and educational accomplishments on the mainline, what us who have graduated on death row; there’s no mention and it wrong because they look at us as monsters, and I believe it continues to look like that without your help and acknowledgements.
The recent paper published some really no so funny jokes and you could of used that space to talk about education achievements on death row.
I submitted a paper I wrote of me getting my GED in may long before this paper came out, and there was no mention of it. I worked just as hard, if not harder than guys on the mainline – give us the same respect you give your fellow mainliners, we deserve it also.