I'm in prison for the murder of a
man who had been paid to kill me. I spent a little over five years on Death Row at Florida
State Prison.In 1978, my second year on the Row, I became one of the most notorious
criminals in the prison's history when I escaped in an officer's uniform. I did not
commit any crimes while I was out because I wanted to turn myself in to someone in the
media in order to bring attention to my case. I offered to surrender to the people
at "60 Minutes" but that did not work out and I was later caught.
My escape led to the firing of several officers and demotions for others. Upon my
return to prison, I didn't get a very good welcome. I spent the first two years back
in the cell where I am now. They put Ted Bundy in the cell next to me the day he
came in. I had only him and the people they put down here to kill to talk with.
And I was beaten until I was in a cast from my neck to my knees. I was later
told this had all been done to mentally and physically break me.
In 1982 my sentence was commuted to life and I was put in population. At first I was given
the worst jobs with the least trust. But I didn't let that keep me down. I'd
seen what a long time in prison does to a man and what scared me more than anything was
that one day I'd end up like that. I'd have no respect for anyone, not even myself,
no moral values. I'd be a walking dead man. I wasn't going to let that happen
to me. So over the years I read everything I could get my hands on, did my best to
stay out of trouble, and gradually earned positions of greater trust.
It takes many years for a prisoner here to get a good job, to become a trustee. When
Sergeant Bradly gave me a chance to work for him, I took the opportunity. He was
considered to be one of the hardest sergeants in the prison, a straight, go-by-the-rules
kind of guy. But the job was important if I was ever to be transferred to a better
camp with more freedom and privileges. I worked for him for some time and we forged
a mutual respect. In my last two progress reports I had been recommended for
transfer. On the down side of my 25 year mandatory sentence, I was feeling pretty
good about the person I had become.
In the early part of 1992 I was working for Sergeant Bradly on Death Row when we were told
we would be moved to W-wing, a real problem wing for many reasons. It was used for
people who had mental problems or attempted suicide. Out of the 40,000 inmates in
the state, the worst went here. Mixed among them were those who went there to escape
rape or some other threat at another camp. With the magic words, "I'm going to
kill myself," one could be instantly transferred to the mental wing at Florida State
Prison. It was staffed by psychologists, psychiatrists, regular doctors and nurses,
the security staff (that was Sergeant Bradly's job) and usually five or six trustees, who
were more or less like orderlies in a hospital with responsibility for everything from
patients' clothing, linen, and food, to cell clean-up. They were in constant
day-to-day contact with the patients for one reason or another.
The trustees on these wings were picked for several reasons including an even temperament
and an ability to deal with emergency problems. The had to routinely cope with
blood, suicide attempts, and people beating the walls and doors or screaming all hours of
the day and night. Sergeant Bradly asked me to go there with him. I did.