It was 4:45 a.m. on an eerie fall morning when a sudden jolt of strange energy went through my body, waking me up. I woke up from a beautiful dream of freedom to the nightmarish reality of death by incarceration. I struggled to gain my focus as my vision was somewhat blurry. When I opened my eyes, my vision was filled with the sight of a dingy wall stained with the humanity of many men who were tortured before me. A sharp pain shot through my lower back, reminding me of the toll that sleeping on a hard, steel bunk for the last twenty-plus years has taken on my body. The older I get, the more the pains seem to intensify.
Unfortunately, that’s a staple of living death by incarceration. Although I’m hesitant to get out of my bunk this morning, I remind myself of the recent Michigan Supreme Court ruling in the People v Parks case that declared it unconstitutional to sentence an 18-year old person to life without the possibility of parole. That decision impacts me because I was 18 at the time that my case occurred. After 23 years, five months, and 27 days of hopelessness, I was given hope of regaining my physical freedom. The feeling is unreal, but it gives me the energy to push through days like today.
Inspired by the lingering thoughts of freedom, I performed my daily ten-minute meditation and then I climbed out of my bunk. When my feet touched the ground, I looked around the 12×18 eight-man cube that I share with seven other men. The lights are dim and the only sound I hear is a man in the cube across from mine snoring. The sight of so many men packed on top of each other in such a small space is very disheartening.
As I made my way to the bathroom to take care of my hygiene, I thought about my ancestors who were shackled and packed into slave ships. The dehumanizing nature of incarceration is parallel to that of slavery. A lot of days I draw strength from my ancestors who were forced to endure the worst atrocities known to humankind. I’ve often had people push back on me, saying that today’s mass incarceration is modern-day slavery, but those same people haven’t walked a day in the shoes of those of us who are being held captive on these plantations. Especially, those of us living death by incarceration.
After I finished taking care of my hygiene, I made my way back to my cube and climbed in my bunk. I grabbed my headphones and tablet so I could listen to music and reflect on my journey until the unit opened at 6:00 a.m.
Music is therapeutic for me. This morning I chose Survivor’s Guilt by California rap artist Mozzy. With freedom on the horizon for me, I thought about all of the men and women who’ve served decades and decades, and freedom still isn’t a reality for them. It’s unfortunate we live in a society that perpetuates the false idea that mass incarceration is the answer to reducing crime. The architects of this cruel and unforgiving system would like for the public to believe incarcerating people for 20, 30, 40, and 50 years makes them safe. The sad part of this ideology is it comes at the cost of human suffering. There are many men and women who are worthy of a second chance but they will never receive one.
After a couple of hours of reflecting, I went to the Jpay kiosk to check and see if I had some mail. I was excited to learn that I had a message from my friend Sudana. I opened the message and what I read instantly brought tears to my eyes. “How are you doing? I know it’s been a minute. I just been striving for physical freedom but maintaining my mental peace. I need you to tell bro that Grandman told me he loves him forever. He died three days later.”
My body went numb from the pain of losing another dear friend to death by incarceration. Grandman was one of the elders who was beloved and respected by many. We developed a bond while I was housed at Gus Harrison Correctional Facility in Adrian, Michigan a few years ago. He took a likening to me because of my thirst for knowledge and my revolutionary spirit.
I have the utmost respect for my elders, especially those who have endured this harsh reality. I took a liking to him because he didn’t hesitate to share his knowledge, wisdom, and understanding with me. He became one of my mentors. Grandman had been incarcerated for over 40 years, and I could honestly say that he was a good man. The once vibrant man was now a shell of himself. He had been battling cancer for years and it was evident in his appearance that he was losing. He was a man that I really felt should’ve been given a second chance. The injustice in this is every one of his co-defendants was given a second chance. The punishment system is so unforgiving. I was frozen at the Jpay kiosk for the entire fifteen minutes we are allotted.
When it automatically logged me off, I headed back to my bunk. I lay in my bunk, and all I could think about is one of my last conversations with Grandman. He told me, “I’m cool with dying but I don’t want to die on these plantations.” One of the worst fears of the individuals incarcerated is dying in prison. The sad part is that’s the reality for a lot of people who are serving death by incarceration (life without possibility of parole) or long indeterminate sentences.
As I lay in my bunk, I could feel precipitation flowing like a waterfall, so I tucked my face in my pillow to hide the pain of death by incarceration.
Normally, I wouldn’t allow myself to be this vulnerable in an environment that’s predicated on false ideals of what masculinity is and isn’t, but I couldn’t help but to think about all of the brothers I’ve lost to death by incarceration.
Grandman was the seventh person in the last three years. This one hit a little different. I’m not sure why but I think it’s because I’m so close to regaining my physical freedom. At the same time, I’m experiencing my own health complications which forces me to think about the possibility of me not making it out of here. I fear that my health complications are due to exposure to mold.
I’m currently housed in a unit that was closed six months ago when mold was discovered in the ceilings. I’ve had a cough for months. I’m experiencing sporadic shortness of breath and tightness in my chest. As well as sporadic dizziness and extreme fatigue. I was tested for COVID and my test came back negative. I know my body, and something isn’t right for sure. The quality of health care is so poor that my fear of dying in prison feels more like a reality than a fear at times.
After a couple of hours of mourning I rolled over, turned on my music and listened to “I Smile” by Kirk Franklin. This song has gotten me through some tough days. I listened to that song five times, and during that period my energy shifted from somber to a state of peace. I regained the strength to continue my journey of enduring death by incarceration. Later that day I walked the dusty track on the big yard by myself and paid my last respects to a great man who mightily impacted my life.
Willfully, this recent Michigan Supreme Court ruling will give me a second chance before I become another life lost to the punishment system. I can’t help but to think about all those who were deserving but fell victim to death by incarceration. There are so many other men and women who’ve served decades and decades in prison. They took the time to transform their mind state and are now ready to return to society. However, they are not afforded a second chance because the punishment system is so unforgiving. This has to change. Especially, in the so-called land of the free, where second chances and redemption are supposed to be for all. My heart is heavy right now but I’m appreciative of all the jewels I got from Grandman. Rest in Power, King!
Quentin Jones #302373
Lakeland Correctional Facility
141 First Street
Lakeland, MI 49036
One Comment
Even with you being 18, you know right from wrong. You killed two innocent people in a robbery, instead of getting a goddamn job.
“This case arises from a double homicide of a married couple. Evidence at trial indicated that the victims, Samuel and Latesha Trotter, were approaching their home at night when defendant (you Mr. Jones and your codefendant Anthony Crawl, and a third party accosted them, threatened them with guns, escorted them inside their home, demanded their money, ransacked the house, stole property, and then killed them. The evidence included a statement that defendant gave to the police in which he admitted that he was the person who shot the victims”.
The age of 18 is old enough to know better, esp. when it comes to a senseless crime like yours. I can understand an 18 year old getting caught with weed, maybe stealing a car, or a burglary. But when it comes to a violent double homicide like your case, fuck you. You need life in prison. Any judge who releases you back to society will have blood on their hand, because you WILL re-offend. All you know is violence. Pray to what ever God you believe in, maybe he will have mercy on you in the after life, but in this life you deserve nothing more than life in prison. A slow miserable death. Death by incarceration as you scumbags like to call it.