San Quentin News

Written By Incarcerated - Advancing Social Justice

Snippets September 2020

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Ray Kroc was a milkshake-mixer salesman and in 1954 asks the McDonalds’ brothers to let him franchise McDonald’s restaurants outside California and Arizona.


UAVs are used for the shipment of live-saving medical equipment and medication where human transport would be too time-consuming in Africa.


Turning down the $11 million dollar role for “Speed 2” resulted in Keanu Reeves being blacklisted by 20th Century Fox for 10 years.


Half a millennium before Christopher Columbus “discovered” America, Viking chief Leif Eriksson of Greenland landed on the Island of Newfoundland in the year 1,000 AD.

Peace movement takes root in all 36 California prisons

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mam Fasi, Rabbi Paul Shleffar and Chaplain Hector Frank Heredia of Native Services

California’s top prison official, Ralph Diaz, says as a society our differences are a good thing, and no matter what a person’s social background is, “They bring value to the world simply by being here.”

Diaz is secretary of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation (CDCR). His statement was delivered to San Quentin on the Day of Peace and Reconciliation observed in 35 prisons on Jan. 29. The event aims to support non-violent living and spiritual unity through an all-faith dialogue.

Chief Deputy Warden Brumfield greeted participants before delivering Diaz’s message inside the prison’s Protestant Chapel.

“I feel blessed to be at San Quentin; it’s a fresh breath of air. I came from a violent prison,” Brumfield said. “This is an amazing prison, and I want you all to embrace that. We need to elevate the desire for peace.”

Darryl “Champ” Hill emceed the event. He set the tone for the day asking 150 staff, volunteers and incarcerated persons to allow “this beautiful day to open minds, relax and enjoy everything each denomination has to say.”

Protestant Chaplain Mardi Ralph Jackson gave the opening prayer. She reminded the praying audience that Jesus glorifies everything in this world.

Chris Scull of the Inmate Advisory Council said, “Peace is more than a feeling. It’s actions of reconciliation.” He continued, “Mediation is a great tool to begin the process. For some it is God. When it was me getting in trouble by my parents, it was my grandmother,” he joked.

Chairman Steve Piscascio and Sergeant at Arms Tommy Wickerd of the Committee for the Day of Peace then taught the crowd the history of the event.

San Quentin created the first Day of Peace 13 years ago.

In 2006, a riot between the Mexican and Black populations occurred just before a scheduled yard event. Several volunteers were headed to the yard event when then-incarcerated (first name)Tong led them away from the riot to safety.

Frustrated, incarcerated leaders of all races came together and went to the administration. The request was to devote one day out of the year to peace and the rehabilitative programs at San Quentin.

“Now, all prisons in California participate because of our original committee,” Piscascio said.

The Rabbi (first name) Sheiffar said the Day of Peace will help us “grow together.” He then asked everyone to open their hearts to create a world more “awake and aware.” He said children of Israel should preserve the ‘righteousness of charity.

“The way to live life is service. We must act with love. Our community calls the Hebrew word for love, ‘al aba’ — which means ‘I give to you,’” said Rabbi Sheiffar.

San Quentin’s Muslim leader, Imam Fasih, reminded everyone, “God is our creator, (and) do not look up to others who have more. “

The Protestant Choir sang (TK), followed by the Catholic choir’s Christmas rendition of “Hallelujah.”

During intermission, No More Tears volunteer Eric Van Kleen noted, “This is a great way to express spirituality to all races, all walks of life.”

Dr. Dianna Kronstadt added, “This is very special for all communities. I was honored to be invited.”

Chaplain Hector Frank talks about his history

Chaplain Hector Frank of Indian Services followed. The nationally renowned spiritual leader, who walked with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Julio Cesar Chavez, talked about a 1,000-year-old prophecy he learned at age 14. (He is now 76).

Chaplain Frank spoke about:

• Prophets he sat with who had known Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull

• Seven generations back to a prayer that included the heaven’s brightest star — the North Star, “was red because…the red road is a spiritual path to peace.”

• The seven original tribes

• The four original colors of men—Red, Black, White and Yellow—depicting all races

• We are older than the Aztecs, Mayans, Olmecs

• We are Temax — People of Peace

• The road to peace did not happen. “We died for it.”

• 150 original medicine people; only two are left

• 1976 was the first sweat lodge in California prisons after the protest at Alcatraz

• He helped establish all sweat lodges in California’s prisons.

“Honor each other’s indifferences, because we all pray — we just use different languages,” said Chaplain Frank.

Incarcerated keynote speaker Michael Adams gave thanks to Lt. (first name) Carlton for the opportunity to represent all incarcerated around the state. The Catholic choirs’ singer quoted St. Francis of Assisi, “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me. Men and women in blue…make peace within so the enemy does not win. Let peace on earth begin with us today.”

The Strobe Ensemble were the featured performers of the day

The Strobe Ensemble performed a piece from Mozart called, “The Oboe Quartet,” in honor of his 276 birthday. They then performed a song called “Water Colors.” The song was designed to visualize colors from Grass Valley’s ponds, and rivers.

Father George Williams spoke about responsibility, accountability forgiveness and self-forgiveness.

“When Christians pray the Lord’s Prayer, we pray for justice and mercy. These are the ingredients for forgiveness,” said Father Williams, who has been serving San Quentin for 17 years.

“We need justice for our offenders and victims, and yes we need places for punishment and for reconciliation/forgiveness; yet, the hardest thing to do is forgive ourselves,” said Father Williams. Reminding the incarcerated and volunteers how blessed they are to be at San Quentin, he asked, “Do all of you know how lucky we are?”

Harpist Christine Tullis pulling emotional strings

The father asked everyone to pray with more introspection, including:

• “Acknowledging San Quentin is proof of rehabilitation because of education, spiritual and volunteer mentors who come as peacemakers.”

• “When we harm others, we must be punished… we should not seek vengeance nor should our punishers…punishment should have clear purpose.”

• Jesus showed disappointment but rejected punishment, revenge and retaliation — by keeping love in spirit.

• Like Jesus, we must return to society whole and heartfelt.

• See Matthew 25 — Jesus, on death row, still asked for mercy and forgiveness for all at the time of his execution.

Leaders from the Buddhist community followed. Incarcerated person (first name) Roach said, “If you love that person so much, even the person that harmed you, I think we can take away from the trend of pain and suffering that we experience every day. Be willing to love.”

Ceremonies ended with prayer from Father Williams. The ceremony continued to in the Catholic Chapel with a harp recital by Christine Tullis.

Tullis, who performed six solos, told the remaining audience she has been playing for 30 years and the harp is “known to be a healing instrument since ancient times.”

This first CDCR sponsored Day of Peace promoted healing throughout the world. Lt. (first name) Carlton hopes the inspirational message will spread outside of San Quentin and that “the Day of Peace could resonate everywhere.”

–Staff Writer Kerry Rudd contributed to this story

Pelican Bay’s new podcast ‘UNLOCKED’

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Pelican Bay’s UNLOCKED staff meets

Creators of a new Pelican Bay podcast look to build community and prisoner relationships—one story at a time, reported the Lost Coast Outpost. https://lostcoastoutpost.com/

“These guys just want to better themselves and create a stronger, more resilient, community,” said Paul Critz, a journalist who teaches inmate students the tools they need to record their personal stories.

Inspired by San Quentin’s Ear Hustle, https://www.earhustlesq.com/ Pelican Bay Prison’s https://www.cdcr.ca.gov/facility-locator/pbsp/ UNLOCKED became the first of its kind at a security level IV institution.

Created by Critz and about 30 incarcerated men, the podcast aims to bring together the men on the inside and to communicate with the residents of Del Norte and Crescent City.

“They’re Del Norters too, and they’re very interested in hearing from the community. They want interaction. They want to humanize themselves, “ said Critz.

Dubbed as the single most important project in his career, Critz uses a portable recorder, laptop and a hand-held microphone to show his students how to put together a narrative.

While given much room for choosing content, Pelican Bay’s Public Information officer John Silviera advised Critz not to “bash the institution.”

“There’s a lot of gray area all around that phrase,” Critz told the Outpost. “We have to figure out what that means because at what point does bashing your reality become bashing the institution that’s responsible for your reality?”

Critz credits what he calls “The Awakening” as the pivotal moment in Pelican Bay’s history that led to launching the podcast.

“The Awakening” refers to the 2015 Supreme Court decision that shut down Pelican Bay’s Security Housing Units in 2013, following a widespread series of hunger strikes that began at the prison.

Critz’ students chose “The Awakening” as the subject of their first podcast. “They wanted to talk about… the changes that have been happening at Pelican Bay and other prisons as a result.

“The real awakening is hope,” said Critz. “They’re able to think about a future, maybe getting out – certainly even with people who’ll never get out.”

Critz, experienced in freelance journalism and radio, is best known as the operator of Crescent City’s community radio station. He was tapped to head Pelican Bay’s UNLOCKED by Stephanie Wenning, former executive director of the Del Norte Association for Cultural Awareness.http://dnaca.net/

Of all the reviews Critz received, “The one that stands out the most,” he told the Outpost, was from the daughter of one of his students.

“I love listening to this podcast. It makes me happy to know my dad is doing something positive with his life. I can’t wait to hear more,” she said.

Inspirational entertainer urges others to claim their unique identity

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The Boxer Joe Orrach showing his tap-dancing skills

Finding your unique voice and identity is important for everyone, boxer-tap dancer Joe Orrach illustrated for a San Quentin Prison audience.

The show encouraged in- carcerated people to tell their own stories as part of their re- habilitation, making the show more than just entertainment for San Quentin residents.

Nearly 100 people made up the audience in the Protestant Chapel on Dec. 13 for the program titled In My Corner.

Orrach told his story with a combination of boxing moves and tap dancing, reflecting his past as Air Force welterweight boxing champion turned professional tap dancer.

He narrated, danced and mimed his authentic tale of growing up in the Bronx, the son of a Puerto Rican father and an Italian American mother. The dominant themes in Orrach’s progression from boyhood to young man were boxing, dancing, and his struggle to gain the approval of his hard-to- please father.

The show began with Orrach jumping rope on a raised wooden platform, tapping out a beat each time the rope arced over his head. The slap of the rope against the wood blended with the tapping. “I loved when he was able to incorporate his jump rope into his tap rhythm,” said San Quentin resident Loren Mears.

As the story progressed, the boxing theme continued, with Orrach punching a speed-bag to a smooth jazz beat.

Mears smiled when he recalled this part of the act, “What really impressed me were his speed-bag skills,” Mears said. “Every time he threw a punch, his whole body was in it. You could tell he was a very good boxer.”

“I had never seen anyone act out his whole life all by himself,” said Mears.

The former boxer appeared to be in fight condition as he moved vigorously, without breaks, throughout the 75-minute show.

Orrach reported it was through his boxing that he ultimately gained his father’s approval. That breakthrough came on the night of his first fight, which he pantomimed for his San Quentin audience. Knocked down three times in the first round, he came back to win the fight in the second.

Orrach punching the speed bag

He retired from boxing after five years and moved on to a successful career in dance. As a young boxer, he had been encouraged to study ballet by his trainer. He ultimately found his dancing niche in tap, touring inter- nationally and dancing with greats like Gregory Hines.

At one performance, Hines was in attendance. In a tribute to Orrach, Hines “threw his shoes on the stage,” said Orrach’s script writer, Lizbeth Hasse.

On stage with Orrach were composer and keyboard player Matthew Clark and percussionist Dan Gonzalez. They skillfully blended their supporting sounds with Orrach’s movement and narrative.

Pauses in the act were consistently met with applause and the audience frequently broke into laughter.

Orrach told his story with humor, passion, and intensity in English (with a Bronx accent) and in Spanish.

When he lapsed into Spanish, it invariably evoked laughter from Spanish-speaking audience members, who seemed to share an inside joke. Bilingual audience member Luis Figuera confirmed that Orrach was indeed sharing some good-natured fun with his fellow Spanish speakers.

A promotional flyer explained that “Orrach and his team work to illustrate the challenges and importance of finding one’s unique voice and identity.”

Orrach has presented the show in a juvenile facility, but this was the first performance in an adult prison.

After the show, audience members responded with a standing ovation and lined up to shake Orrach’s hand, thank him, and praise the performance.

Orrach, perspiring heavily from the intensity of the performance, looked like a boxer after a fight.

Orrach and friends at San Quentin

World renowned magicians tour and perform at SQ

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Kayla Drescher reveals Brandon Riddell-Terrell gets no “date”

An international squad of escape artists, grand illusionists, mind readers and tricksters descended on San Quentin State Prison for a special Nov. 26 performance right before Thanksgiving.

Set to make their Broadway San Francisco debut later that night, Champions of Magic chose to first visit SQ and dazzle prisoners with theatrical wizardry and humor.

“On paper, I’m sure a room full of 300-plus criminals seems terrifying,” said Los Angeles magician Kayla Drescher. “But we didn’t view anyone we met as their crime or their number.

“We were just happy to meet and perform for a great audience of human beings.”

The British duo Young and Strange opened the SQ show with their original signature illusion.

Mentalist Alex McAleer reading Brian Holliday‘s mind

“We weren’t sure what equipment to bring inside the prison,” said Richard Young. “We came up with this trick when we were two broke teenagers—nothing but cardboard and some sharp wood.”

With a bit of slapstick and comedic flare, Sam Strange got Young squeezed into a standard-looking cardboard box.

“Caution—Heavy Load,” Strange read the label, taking a jab at his partner’s somewhat portly girth.

Sam Strange puts Richard Young into a box Strange thrusts wooden spears through the cardboard box Strange removes all the spears and Young comes out Kayla Drescher revealing one of the four “date” cards with volunteers

Strange then thrust 17 spears, one after another, straight through the box from all sides. Young’s hand popped out the top—waving a white flag in surrender.

Strange drove one last spear smack down the center, a maniacal grin across his face. The standing-room-only chapel crowd “oohed” in amazement at how Young could be in there.

Young gladly emerged after Strange pulled each and every stick out. It was clear the holes left behind went through-and-through.

Mentalist Alex McAleer, another Brit, took the stage next. “I don’t read palms or talk to the dead,” he said. “I talk to the living.”

He selected Tony DeTrinidad and Brian Holliday from the audience.

“I can see you wondering, ‘How can this British guy read my mind? Will it hurt?’”

McAleer turned his back to each prisoner while they answered specific questions on slips of paper. DeTrinidad was asked to think of one simple word.

Holliday wrote down the name of someone he cared about. “Put some other personal information about them on there, too,” said McAleer. “Not too fast—nice and slowly for me. I’m a performer. I’m very needy.”

The answers were placed in envelopes and sealed behind McAleer’s back then handed to Tommy Wickerd in the front row.

McAleer soon voiced DeTrinidad’s word choice—“pasta.” Wickerd tore open the envelope to confirm it.

McAleer then focused on Holliday. “This is a bit more difficult. Close your eyes,” he told him. “I can tell you’re picturing it. The name starts with a ‘K.’ Am I right? And I think you gave the age, too.”

The mind reader then told the crowd about Holliday’s 21-year-old sister, Karen.

“I’m still trying to figure out how he did it. There’s no way he saw me writing any of that stuff,” Holliday said later. “Guys on the yard keep asking me if I was in on the trick.”

Fernando Velasco, the 21-year-old magician from El Grullo, Mexico, was up next.

“There’s a number of things you need to be an escape artist,” he said.

From her front row seat, Lisa Strawn volunteered to help bind Velasco securely with plastic wrap and duct tape.

“Don’t worry—I got this,” said Strawn. “I’ll make sure he’s good and tight.”

The other magicians began raising a four-sided curtain, yet almost instantly Velasco stopped them before they could finish. He’d gotten free—with the plastic and tape all still hanging there intact.

“The single most important thing you need to escape is luck. Lots of luck,” said Velasco, surrounded by applause.

Drescher’s expressive eyes set the tone for her boisterous, cheeky performance. Reliving her teenage days as a policeman’s daughter, she called “three young gentleman” from their seats to compete for a date.

“No way. That’s the name of the guy I went on my first date with,” she said coyly after asking Brandon Riddle-Terrell his first name. “Ooh, and look at those big muscles—just like him, too.”

Each man answered questions, trying to merit the one sealed envelope out of four with a “date” card inside. “Sorry, you didn’t pass my dad’s background check,” Drescher said, dismissing them one by one.

The crowd sat in anticipation, enjoying Drescher’s personality as much as her magic. Of course, the “date” card remained in the final envelope that no guy could obtain.

Young and Strange closed the short set by having the entire audience participate in a final illusion. Asking everyone to put their hands together and interlock their fingers, the pair demonstrated the same.

Lisa Strawn wrapping Fernando Velasco in plastic

“This is crazy, but we’re going to totally blow your minds,” said Strange. “Lock your fingers up tight—and don’t let go.”

In front of everybody, they asked the participants to twist their hands around without releasing. Young and Strange accomplished the feat easily, but no one else could unravel from the awkward position.

The true magic, however, may have taken place after the performance. The four magicians, along with their producer Alex Jarrett and Broadway SF’s Scott Walton, received their own special tour of SQ’s North Block, Death Row and Main Chow Halls.

“My cast mates and I are really passionate about politics, documentaries, etc.,” Drescher told SQNews. “I remember watching, with my dad, trials of some of the people whose cells we passed on Death Row.

“That was an amazing experience, but also understanding that the justice and prison system in this country is… well… a mess. I was excited to learn from people who’ve experienced it firsthand.”

When Champions of Magic were inside North Block, Jerry Drawhorn, barely at SQ for two weeks, had to tell them what it meant to catch their chapel performance.

“I’ve never seen a magic show in prison,” said Drawhorn, incarcerated for the last 26 years. “Being down all these years around bad, ugly, evil—it’s hard to keep your humanity when you’re around stuff like that 24/7.

“I’ll always attend beautiful events like this because it keeps me grounded—keeps me going without going crazy.”


Sam Strange puts Richard Young into a box

While in Chicago on the next leg of their tour, Drescher and Jarrett both emailed about the visit’s impact on Champions.

“San Fran shows were good, but I can honestly say we all enjoyed our performance with you more,” said Jarrett. “We’ve told many people what a positive experience it was for us. I hope it will inspire other performers to make themselves available if permitted.”

Drescher added, “Growing up with a dad that’s a police officer, you’d think I would view criminals as ‘bad guys.’ I was lucky to learn from him that one bad decision doesn’t mean someone is a horrible human. The visit to San Quentin certainly showcased all of that.

“Later that night [in San Francisco] was the first time in a while our show hadn’t gotten a standing ovation. I just yelled from the stage, ‘THEY STOOD FASTER IN SAN QUENTIN!’

“We’d do a show for all of you every day if we could — haven’t stopped talking about how lucky we are to have had this experience.”

Remembering Patrick Maloney’s 40 years at San Quentin

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Patrick Maloney taught art to incarcerated men at San Quentin for more than 40 years, his first 10 years were spent voluntarily teaching condemned men on Death Row.

Maloney was born, Feb. 5, 1938. He passed away on Aug. 18, 2019, surrounded by his loving family and his art at the home that he built in Nicasio in the late 1960s.

His generosity enriched thousands of lives as he often worked with those on the margins of society: recent immigrants, the incarcerated, juvenile offenders, and low- income and at-risk children and families. He went out of his way to learn from other cultures and from others’ experiences.

Maloney once said, “I make art to maintain my connection to life.”

Pat Maloney with his art

A memorial service was held on Nov. 10 at the Whipper Snapper Restaurant in San Rafael. Maloney designed the restaurant’s interior and it is filled with his artwork including chandelier and walls.

Kurt Huget, Auntie Jun Hamamoto, Dunya Alwan, Pat Maloney, Steve Emrick and Amy Ho at 2018 event

“Patrick was a community artist before the concept existed in America,” Katya McCulloch, an Arts in Corrections (AIC) instructor since 2004. “That is something that his family allowed us to share. So, the memorial was precious that it brought together Patrick’s family and the community that treasured him so much.”

At the memorial, McCulloch read the following words of praise from several incarcerated men enrolled in San Quentin’s AIC program:

Bruce Fowler: You couldn’t help but admire Pat. He’s the first person I’ve met that never said a negative word about anyone or anything. He taught me so much more than how to paint; because of him, I strive to be a kinder, more compassionate person. I will always honor his memory and never forget the eight years that I was blessed to have him in my life. I will forever love and miss you my dear friend Pat.

We took a liking to one another as if we’d been best friends all our lives”

Gary Harrell: Patrick always kept his word and showed up on time at 7:45. I started working with him in 1996 from fear of not be- ing able to draw. After a few years, I started to draw. I learned so much about art listening to Patrick, a very soft-spoken man that told me, stay focused on the subject matter.

Lamavis Comundoiwilla:

I’d never have become who I am without his teaching. He changed my life. I began thinking of productive ways for art and for that, I am forever thankful.

Jeff Isom: Pat was a very kind, caring and loving individual. Even in his struggles, he was selfless – always think- ing of others beside himself.

Stan Bey: We took a liking to one another as if we’d been best friends all our lives.

Orlando Smith: I could never imagine Pat being up- set or angry or upset or in a bad mood or snappy—he was the most mellow person I ever met—he’d make people feel super comfortable.

Anthony Vasquez- Ramirez: We talked a lot. Sometimes it had nothing to do with art. I think that one of his best qualities is that he had the willingness and ability to listen. He had the patience, willingness, and ability to just listen. I know that as a painter and family man, that he had an interest in young adults, teenagers who found themselves caught up in the criminal justice system. He was a one-of-a- kind man, extremely artistic, patient and a good teacher. I know he’s in a good place. We need more good people like him.

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