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Introduction to Death Row----By Richard E. Shere Jr.
Florida Death Row
Upon entering the gates of Hell, better
known as Florida State Prison, a
dark place of despair and lack of any
human emotion, my senses
intensified. The smell of death on every
guard and prisoner's uniform.
The walls cried of the blood of young
men smashed against them as each
was welcomed to this cold place of destruction.
Even eye contact was feared and forbidden
as an unwritten law as I walked
in through the thick steal door, for each
prisoner and guard already knew
what was about to happen to me and others
planned what they would do to me.
I was a young man, age 21, and I had never
been in trouble before. Now I
was convicted of a crime I did not commit
and was sentenced to death. My
education about Hell was just beginning.
With each step into this dark
place my feet grew heavy and my heart
found its way to my throat.
I was guided to a small holding cell where
I spent several hours waiting.
I was hungry and tried to talk to anyone
that passed by in the hall but I
got no response. I then took notice of
a group of 6 guards standing in a
circle near by talking. Each taking turns
looking in my direction before
they headed my way. Their body language
told me they were ready for
battle. The leader held up a set of brass
keys and yelled, "Time for your
haircut Boy!" Being a small young man
at the time I was snatched up in
the air by this huge man and tossed into
the 5 other guards. They began
to beat me. This was my welcome to Florida
State Prison.
After 2 hours of getting beaten up and
slammed against the wall I noticed
that my blood had begun to dry on the
floor and wall. I began to feel it
dry on my bones as well. I was then carried
to a near by barber shop
where I was held down and my head and
face were shaved, using my own
blood for shaving cream. A hot, white
towel was violently rubbed all over
my face. I watched it turn red with my
blood.
Barely able to move I was snatched up from
the barber chair and thrown
into two boxes which contained my personal
property and legal material.
Now, for the first time, I realized that
I was handcuffed with my hands
in front of me. I was barely able to stand
when the guards told me to
pick up my two boxes and carry them or
what ever I could not carry would
be left behind.
Some how I managed to get the heavy boxes
into my arms. I began the long
walk to the cell where I would wait for
my death sentence to be carried
out. This was no short walk for a healthy
man, let alone a beaten man
carrying two heavy boxes while hand cuffed.
After walking the first
several meters I felt the blood dripping
from my wrists due to the weight
of the boxes and the hand cuffs cutting
deep into my wrists. Weak from
not eating in days, from loss of blood,
from beatings and inhumane
treatment, there was no end to this long
hallway on my walk to death.
After several hundred meters, possibly
one thousand meters, I was led
down a dark stairway and began to hear
the sounds of coughing from sick
men on Death Row. The smell of smoke and
death rose with each step I
took. I was led to a dark cell where the
handcuffs were taken off and the
door was shut behind me. Barely able to
see in the darkness I tore pieces
off of my shirt and wrapped them around
my wrists to stop the bleeding.
Cold and wet from sweat and blood I curled
up on my steal bed and fell
asleep within seconds. I was woken the
next morning by the sound of a
cold, hard, steal food tray hitting my
door. Every bone in my body felt
like it had been broken. I could barely
see due to the swelling around my
eyes.
Painfully I got to my feet and walked to
the door to retrieve the food
tray. I gently sat down on the cold, steal
bed with the tray on my lap.
Still dark in this horrible place I began
to scoop handfuls of cold
oatmeal off the tray with my hands. I
pushed it through my busted lips
and broken teeth, knowing that I had to
eat to survive. After several
minutes of this I noticed something dark
in my oatmeal. I managed to find
a small light in the corner of my cell.
I pulled it on and saw to my
horror that what I had been eating was
covered in blood. I was not sure
if it was my own or someone else's. My
hunger and my will to survive grew
stronger...I had to eat and I finished
eating with tears running down my
face, while screaming inside, "What kind
of place is this!" Only later
did I find out that a young man had been
killed in the kitchen that
morning by another prisoner and it was
his blood that I had eaten. Upon
hearing that news I began to vomit and
could not eat for several more days.
After my first meal on death row I managed
to get back to sleep while
silently listening to the sounds of 100
men on death row begin their day.
They were sounds I had never heard before
from so many people, coughing,
sickness, screaming, even laughter. Smoke
and death filled the air and it
felt as if every man was slowly dying
a horrible death. It felt as if
these were all hospital beds. I wondered
how many were in my
condition...broken up and beaten? How
long had they waited and how many
would gladly welcome death? Again, I slowly
and painfully fell asleep.
Once again, at lunchtime, I was woken by
the sound of a cold food tray
hitting my door and I managed to eat what
I could. Now realizing that I
had to wake up and get my day started
I collected my thoughts and began
to fumble around for a towel to clean
myself up. As I began to move
around, a man in the next cell said, "Hello,
new guy. What's your name?"
I answered, "Rip". I decided to use this
as a nickname so no one would
find out my real name until I could trust
them.
This man introduced himself as Paul Scott.
He passed me a cigarette which
I gladly accepted, even though I did not
smoke. I recognized this as a
friendly gesture by a kind person who
knew what I had been through to get
here on death row...to get to the cell
next to his. Paul Scott was very
concerned about my physical condition
and asked me if I needed anything.
Paul had already spent 10 years on death
row and helped many other new,
young men adjust to this horrible death
warehouse.
Now it was my turn to learn everything
this kind, friendly man could
teach me so that I could survive. We talked
for hours that day and in the
days and weeks that followed. Paul spent
several hours of his time
teaching me everything I needed to know.
Even at his own great expense
Paul took time away from his own fight
for freedom to prove his
innocence, to help me understand how this
prison system worked. He taught
me how to avoid trouble and beatings from
the guards. He also taught me
how to read and write letters for myself
so that I could ask for help to
prove my innocence.
Paul spent many valuable hours of his short,
precious time listening to
my stories of how I lost my family, friends,
wife and child due to my
conviction and incarceration. Paul became
my very good friend and helped
me through many rough times when I even
considered taking my own life so
that I would not have to deal with the
emotional pain and suffering that
I endured in this cold, terrible place.
After spending many years side by side
in our dark, damp cells it felt as
if these small concrete and steal cages
were growing smaller. The
roaches, mosquitoes, rats and mice took
up more space than we did. Some
rats were so bold and large that if you
set your food tray on your bed a
rat would fight you for your food, or
grab a piece of food and run for
his life.
Each night Paul and I, along with everyone
else, would spend time trying
to kill rats and mice. At night we would
tie a chicken bone to a string
and throw it down the hallway and then
slowly drag it back and a rat
would attack it, pulling hard on the bone
trying to get away with the
food. Once you had the rat back to your
cell you had to whack it in the
head with a shoe. Sometimes the rat would
even fight back and try to bite
you.
After months without sunlight and witnessing
several men being taken to
the hospital due to suicides, suicide
attempts, sickness and even from
beatings from the guards I managed to
pull myself together somewhat and
grow cold and hard in order to survive
my surroundings. I also witnessed
many death warrants signed and executed.
I could smell men burning to
death in the electric chair. The smoke
and smell of burning hair and
flesh would make its way through the ventilation
system. I could also
hear grown men cry for the friend who
had just been murdered by the State
of Florida. Each of us on death row has
been accused of premeditated
murder. Yet the state continues to perform
executions without guilt or
punishment.
After I had been in prison for several
months I also learned from Paul
that we were not allowed to operate any
sort of business from prison,
making it impossible to support ourselves
or our families and children.
We cannot legally earn any money to pay
for our lawyers and investigators
or to gain support to prove our innocence
and obtain our freedom.
Paul explained to me that we can only write
letters and tell our story
until we find someone kind enough to help
and care about us. Someone who
cares about our cases and would spend
some time and money on us, or even
just donate a small amount of money so
that we can buy stamps, paper,
pens and envelopes to continue our search
for help and justice.
Many of us with no writing or reading skills
did not stand a chance...we
had to rely on other death row prisoners,
such as Paul, to help us. When
coming to a place like this you find out
who your family and friends
truly are. It is not an easy reality to
face.
This being my first time away from home,
out in the world all alone, in
prison and on death row with little education,
was enough (for me) to
make a grown man cry. For my first four
years at Florida State Prison I
cried myself to sleep. Shortly after my
fourth year I was still living
next to my trusted friend, Paul Scott.
We had been through so much
together and soon I was to learn that
his death warrant had been signed,
one of many death warrants signed on Paul.
I will never forget that day...I saw the
captain of the guards walk past
my cell and stop in front of Paul's cell.
They asked him to pick up his
address book and come with them, and we
all knew what that meant, his
death warrant had been signed, again!
As he walked past my cell in
handcuffs I could not stop crying because
I knew they were going to kill
another innocent man, my trusted friend,
Paul Scott.
I could not even find it in my heart to
say good bye or speak as our eyes
met, even though he knew how I felt. He
walked away saying, "Teach the
next young man so this does not happen
to him!" Again, thinking of others
as he walked to what we all thought was
his death.
I could not eat for days and it really
bothered me that the State of
Florida could murder such a clearly innocent
man when they knew that he
did not commit the crime of which he had
been accused. But their killing
machine was constant, consistent and without
regard for guilt or
innocence, slowly burning us to death
in that chair, one by one. 360 men,
lined up and waiting...including myself
and Paul Scott.
Days went by before I received the good
news that my friend, Paul, would
live a few more years. He was now a brother
to me because of the way he
had touched my life...truly family now.
But it would also be many years
before I would see him again...before
I would live next door to him once
more.
During these years many battles went on
between the prisoners and guards.
There were also battles between the prisoners
and the State of Florida.
Due to the poor, severe living conditions
at Florida State Prison we won
a lawsuit in court and it was ordered
that a new death row building be
built at Union Correctional Institution.
I write to you from there today,
in a cell next to my trusted brother,
Paul Scott. Fourteen years later we
are both still alive and fighting for
our freedom side by side once
again. Both going through so many years
of hope, disappointments, loss of
family and friends. We even dealt with
the murder of our fellow Death Row
Prisoner, Frank Valdez. Frank was beaten
to death by several prison
guards only two years ago at Florida State
Prison.
Our voices and pain were not known or seen
even though we fought for our
lives every day. Our cries of innocence
are not heard, nor do they
matter, because the courts only wish to
hear if our rights have been
violated during the process to convict
us. There is rarely a case where a
prisoner's rights were not violated, but
without help, money, a good
lawyer and an incredible investigator
it is extremely hard to prove that
your rights have been violated.
Even after you have proven your innocence
and have shown that your rights
have been badly violated, as in Paul Scott's
case, the courts still do
not wish to set you free, they break their
own laws to keep you on Death
Row. If it were not for the miracle of
the internet our voices would not
be heard today.
Two years ago when the guards at Florida
State Prison beat Frank to death
and were found innocent of the crime they
committed, I was ready to lay
down and die just to get away from this
horrible place. Then I was moved
next to Paul and he, once again, renewed
my faith and taught me that
there are hundreds of people out there
that want to help us. Paul has
taught me that I can get off Death Row
and even get out of prison some
day if I can just find someone, anyone,
to fight for me and support me.
Once again Paul is laying down his fight
for freedom to help me...to
teach me.
Paul and I are both what most people would
think of as undereducated, so
it has been an extremely long hard fight
we have taken up to save our
lives in addition to trying to change
the laws in the process for the
many others that will follow in our footsteps.
Most of the public defenders (lawyers)
we are given by the State of
Florida are paid by the state. It is an
unwritten law to keep us alive
and see that we receive a sentence of
life in prison. Very few public
defenders will work on issues that could
lead to a reduced sentence and
new trial so we can go free. They are
severely under funded to
investigate such matters in so many cases.
Basically, their only goal is to see that
we get off death row and
receive a sentence of life in prison.
Once this happens we are left on
our own to pay for a good lawyer and investigator
to get our sentence
reduced or to get a new trial. We are
also given a one year time limit to
raise this money (under these conditions)
to hire a lawyer or we will be
stuck in prison forever, and we will die
under a life sentence.
With a lack of education and not being
able to run a business from
prison, we are forced to cry out for help
in hopes that someone will
fight for us or send donations so we can
obtain the help we need.
On top of spending hours each day writing
countless letters to ask for
help (many of which never receive a response
or reach their destination
for whatever reason) it is an impossible
task to work around the everyday
conditions of this place...such as visits
only once a week, lawyers that
will not visit you, guards searching your
cell at any time, unbearable
heat in the summer, terrible cold in the
winter, lack of access to a law
library, yard only twice a week and showers
only three times a week. Each
of these conditions either adding pressure
and stress to our situation
here or completely wasting our time. Many
grievances have to be filed
each week to keep what we do have and
need to continue our fight.
After 14 to 23 years of crying out for
help and freedom, working up to 20
hours a day, 7 days a week, it becomes
very discouraging when nothing is
accomplished. It is even more amazing
that Paul and I even continue this
battle when so many others have given
up...or never even tried.
The struggle to keep one's sanity through
all of this year in and year
out is quite a battle in itself, as we
watch friends and loved ones die
around us each year. Many times we have
to deal with money hungry lawyers
and investigators that only break their
promises of freedom and steal
what little money they can squeeze out
of you and your family members.
When your already limited resources are
depleted you are no longer able
to help yourself or fight for your freedom.
There is no time for normal life or relationships
in this place of hell.
There is no time to even dream of a life
after prison if we are released.
The only goal we allow ourselves to consider
is the hope of a new trial
or reduced sentence so that we can one
day have freedom once again. Even
then we will always be faced with being
accused of a serious crime.
This mountain of injustice must be removed.
If it can only be removed one
stone at a time then we will die with
a stone in our hands. At this time
I would like to share a poem written for
you. I hope that you will find
meaning in it. Meaning that will touch
your very heart and soul.
Condemned to Die
Why do they leave me here all alone to
die? I hold out my hand and cry
from the mountain tops and they just stare
from afar... Not willing to
help me as if it would endanger their
own lives. But it will not, for
they cannot be held for their actions
if they were to only reach out a
hand to save me. Am I not worthy? Have
they no compassion? Is my life
worth so little? Can they not see my tears?
And do they not know I need
help? Is it I oh Father that must reach
out and help them? And bring them
through this walk of Death that all of
us must take? To comfort them
along the way so that they will know our
Lord is waiting? Take my hand
then and follow me thy lost sheep, and
we shall walk in the light as
brothers and sisters and know that we
are all God's children, free from
all the injustice in this world...for
it is not too late to care for and
help one another on this walk of Death
we must all take. May the
blessings of our Father continue to bring
comfort and peace to your soul.
Amen
Today I am represented by an ex police
officer who has read my case and
is doing what he can to help. Paul is
represented by a lovely young
German lady. Although we still lack the
funds for the proper computer
equipment that would allow us to get the
help we need, we have managed to
borrow other computers and have put most
of our documents on disks, as we
slowly try to build a web site that we
can eventually put on line.
Through our website we will be able to
ask for donations to our legal
defense funds.
Previously Paul has had his own web site
and received many donations but
the lady who had promised to help him
kept the money for her own personal
use and now we have to learn everything
for ourselves and make sure that
it is in the hands of people we can truly
trust...like our representatives.
It has not been an easy battle, but we
do hope to have two computers soon
with internet access so that we can contact
many others for help. Shortly
after doing this we also hope to present
our own web site on line with a
legal defense fund so we can proceed to
hire the help we need to be
released from prison.
Conditions in this new death row building
are better than they were at
Florida State Prison and for that I am
grateful. The best part is that we
do now have contact visits for 6 hours
on Saturdays or Sundays each
weekend. There are no roaches, rats or
mice, but mosquitoes and ants
continue to be a problem at times. The
lighting is better and the cells
are slightly bigger and, for the most
part, dry.
The recreation yards are smaller with plenty
of razor wire on top of the
fence. With 28 men outside at a time it
can seem fairly crowded. Exercise
is often interrupted with hot tempers
and large egos. 4 hours of sunlight
each week is just not enough for anyone.
The food here has gotten worse
with time and we stay in constant battle
with the state of Florida over
the insanely high prices they charge us
for canteen, snacks and dry goods.
In our small cells almost 24 hours a day,
7 days a week, we are not
allowed to work or earn any money in any
way, so we have to rely on loved
ones and pen-friends for financial support.
Without this support we would
not even be able to write and plead for
help and support. With so many
television shows portraying prisoners
to be such bad people it is
extremely hard to find anyone who is willing
to help, let alone support
us here in any manner.
As each year passes more and more is taken
from us...making it harder and
harder to have contact with the outside
world...making it harder and
harder to ask for help in righting the
wrongs that are committed against
us each day.
On a lighter topic some small pleasures
can be enjoyed here from time to
time. An example of this would be hearing
the song of a male bird, in the
spring, as he proudly puffs up his chest
and sings his beautiful songs
outside our windows, desperately trying
to win over the heart of some
unsuspecting female bird during mating
season. It is quite amazing to
watch as he pours out his little heart
and soul with all of this being.
I often wonder if I will ever have the
chance to sing my songs of love
ever again, trying to attract a mate of
my own. This used to cause me
great pain but I know that the wife I
once had and the son we had
together is truly more than any one man
could ask for in 10 life times. I
have accepted being alone, although I
greatly miss the intimate contact I
once shared with others, just a simple
hug or the touch of a hand, or
even warm, friendly eye contact would
mean the world to me now. I do not
feel it would be fair to another to drag
them into my mess until I was
sure that one day I would be free...no
matter how much they wanted it to
happen.
It seems ridiculous that all that stands
between my freedom (and Paul's)
is a small amount of money. But, it was
poverty that landed us here so
many years ago, and it is poverty that
has kept us here. Of course it is
not only Paul and me that suffer in this
way, many here are stricken with
the same poverty.
Occasionally we are able to see a beautiful
sunrise or sunset. It would
be wonderful to go outside at night again
and look up to see the moon and
the stars. Sometimes while being transported
to another prison I find it
breath taking to look out of the window
as we drive down the road in a
car or prison van. Given the chance on
such a transport I will go out of
my way to just walk on grass. Once I even
pretended to trip so I could
fall on the grass and roll around a moment
before I got up.
There are so many things taken for granted
by so many people that would
truly mean the world to a man that has
been on death row for over 10
years. More than three showers each week
would be very nice, and being
able to adjust the temperature on the
shower water would be equally nice.
Watching a television show on a colored
tv would be extremely pleasing.
Sitting in a comfortable chair, or sitting
at a nice table to eat lunch
with others once again would actually
make me feel human for a change.
There are so many simple pleasures, such
as these, that would mean the
world to me today. Sometimes I wish I
had never known any of them, so
that I would not miss them now. I am grateful
I have as much as I do in
this small cage. I know it could be worse.
But that is only speaking of
material items, being on death row and
knowing you may be executed, just
waiting all of these years is inhumane.
I wish they would have taken my
life the very same day they found me guilty.
The emotional stress for me and everyone
I know has been extremely hard.
On top of that everyone tries to protect
me from everything and won't
tell me when bad things happen because
they feel I have enough to deal
with. It is also very tough to find out
who your friends and family truly
are, and when you come to a place like
this you do find out. I thought I
knew my family and friends well, when
I was free. But I have learned that
I never knew them at all.
Apparently they never knew me at all either.
I have discovered that in
order to really get to know someone you
need to communicate with them
face to face, on the telephone, and write
letters for at least a year.
Each of these allows you to say things
that you would not normally be
able to say because of embarrassment or
other reasons. I lacked the
letter writing part with my family and
friends when I was free which is
probably the most important part. It is
a lost art today, and it may also
be the reason so many relationships fail
these days, however, with email
there is now hope, as everyone is free
to express themselves without a
face to face confrontation.
One of the small comforts we have here
is that we each have a very small
black and white tv in our cells, but they
basically cause more harm than
good. Many men on death row simply watch
tv all day long and will not
even write a letter or work on their case.
They just wait to be executed.
They are also afraid to stand up for their
rights here because if they
get in trouble they will lose their tv
and go to the hole for 30 days.
If we had nothing to lose a lot more would
be accomplished around here,
and in the courts, and more innocent men
would be set free, so it is
tough to deal with. Having to live in
prison is like having to live with
2000 four year old children the size of
full grown men. They all want
their way, and they cry or get angry if
they can't have their way. It
will drive you insane, even if you like
children. Many of the men here
are dangerous, not so many on death row,
but through out the prison
system there are some very dangerous men.
Death row men are very calm and even nice
people, for the most part. I
have had several guards tell me that Death
Row is the safest place to
work in the prison system, because we
are so nice and calm, no trouble at
all. Most men here were told it was wrong
and against the law to kill
someone but no one was ever once told
why it was wrong. Seeing so much on
tv, people just shooting each other, leads
some people to believe that
they will not get caught if they do kill
someone.
The Death Penalty will never be a deterrent
to crime because almost
everyone who commits a crime believes
they will never get caught. The
Death Penalty is useless for fighting
crime. The only purpose it serves
is to get rid of someone you do not want.
Most murders take place because
men want to simply get rid of a problem
(person), and that is what the
Death Penalty does, it is just a way to
get rid of problem people. They
do not mind if they kill a few innocent
people along the way.
It is up to us to change the laws and right
the wrongs, so please get
involved or make a donation if possible.
For more information please write:
Richard Shere #116320
UCI P-3110,7819 NW 228th
St.
Raiford, FL 32026-4430
USA
http://www.deathrow.at/rick/
Mail to: demaze@msn.com
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