Less than one year into a short prison sentence, Wesley Abernathy is gone. He was only 31.

Wesley Abernathy was set to be released in December 2025. He had been sentenced to 30 months in ADOC. He died at Bullock Correctional Facility on Mother’s Day this May (photo courtesy of the family),

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

Like many Alabama families, Wesley Abernathy’s mother, wife, and sister paid thousands of dollars in extortion payments hoping the money would keep him alive during his short sentence in an Alabama prison. “We have gotten threats from other inmates in there. I was suckered into paying money,” his sister, Darby Martinez explained. “One time he was on the phone with me, and somebody got on there and said, ‘if you don’t send me this money, I’ll kill him tonight.’” 

The family paid dearly. But Wesley died anyway.

“I had to tell my mom. It was horrific. I think that’s the worst pain that I’ve ever been through,” Mrs. Martinez told Appleseed. Wesley, 31, was her mother’s only son. He died at Bullock Correctional Facility on Mother’s Day this May.

Mrs. Martinez talked to her brother by phone the night before he died. They talked for eight minutes, until 10:58 p.m.  “I’ll call you on Mother’s Day. Tell mom and everybody to answer,” Wesley told his sister. Instead, Mrs. Martinez got a call from a prison employee at 6:58 a.m. 

“Let me switch you over to the chaplain,” the man told her. “I knew instantly something was wrong. He couldn’t get the chaplain to answer so he told me ‘I’m very sorry but Wesley passed away.’ I don’t really remember much from that moment. I know they said that I just fell to the ground and was screaming,” Mrs. Martinez said. 

Wesley Abernathy with his sister, Selena Colon, his mother, Aleshia Gonzalez, and his sister, Darby Martinez (photo courtesy of the family),

Wesley was set to be released in December 2025. He had been sentenced to 30 months in ADOC, followed by probation, after pleading guilty to manslaughter.

From January 1st through June 20th  there were 161 deaths among the incarcerated in Alabama prisons, Appleseed learned through a records request. Alabama prisons saw a record 325 deaths in 2023.  So far, ADOC investigations have determined that 112 of those deaths were from preventable causes, with 10 homicides, 13 suicides and 89 overdose deaths. 

Alabama’s overdose mortality rate in prisons last year of 435 per 100,000 was 20 times the national rate across state prisons, according to the latest available national data from the Federal Bureau of Investigations. 

Ms. Martinez estimates that during her brother’s time in prison she sent $3,000 to men who’d threatened his life. Between her, her mother and Wesley’s wife, she estimates they sent between $5,000 and $7,000 to extortionists who threatened to kill him. 

“Because I was scared for his life, and even with us telling the prison, ‘Hey, there’s drugs in there. It’s not as safe there. They were like ‘Oh, well, he’s probably gonna die.’ This is literally what the woman told me on the phone,” Mrs. Martinez said of a female officer she spoke to. “She said, we’ve moved him four times already, and I said, no you have not. You moved him from one dorm to the next. You didn’t try to do anything.” 

Mrs. Martinez said the Law Enforcement Services Division investigator looking into her brother’s death told the family that ADOC told him not to worry about an autopsy because they believed it was an overdose death, but the condition of his body at the funeral home told another story.

The side of Wesley’s face was black, and he had a large knot on his head. “So we started asking. How did this happen?,” Mrs. Martinez said. 

The investigator told the family that he fought for an autopsy to be done because Wesley had bruises on his face, but that according to the funeral home there were no signs that an autopsy had been done. 

“We had my brother cremated, so there’s no going back. They just ripped that away from us. We thought an autopsy was performed because the investigator didn’t even know the autopsy wasn’t even done,” Mrs. Martinez said. 

Wesley had an addiction problem and may have been using drugs while incarcerated, Mrs. Martinez said. She believes he was in debt to those men inside who were selling him drugs. Drug debt is a common catalyst for violence and death inside Alabama prisons. 

One incarcerated man who was extorting the family told Mrs. Martinez on a prison phone about a month before her brother died that, “We run this prison. The officers do what we say, so they’re not going to protect your brother.” Like so many Alabama families with incarcerated loved ones, Wesley Abernathy’s family did not know who to turn to, or how to create safer conditions for him. There is no guidebook for desperate families and generally no one with any power to help them. “There are people that deserve to be in there. I understand that, but it’s to teach people. Not for all these families that have to get phone calls that their family member is gone.” 

Wesley and his wife, Amber Abernathy (photo courtesy of the family).

Mrs. Martinez described her brother as a good-hearted person who loved to fish, and could most often be found fishing at Guntersville Lake. “He was a good man. He had three babies, and he loved them to death, with everything in him,” Mrs. Martinez said. 

Amber Abernathy, Wesley’s widow, told Appleseed she received a call from the prison warden the morning he died, but that the shock of finding out had her in disbelief. 

“I was just saying, Is this a joke? Are you just kidding? This is not funny. I just was in panic,” Mrs. Abernathy said. The warden told her there was no bruising on the body and that it appeared to have been a medical event. 

Mrs. Abernathy described what the family saw when they arrived at the funeral home. 

“He had lots of bruising on his face – on the right side of his face. He had a knot on the right side of his head, and markings behind his ear and on his right side,” Mrs. Abernathy said. “We were not prepared for that.” 

The Law Enforcement Services Division investigator assigned to her husband’s death told her in an early phone call that they believed he died of a fentanyl overdose, she said, and that there were no bruises or other signs of injury on him. She said that although she suspected he was using drugs in prison he’d never take fentanyl purposefully, and that he had always been afraid of that drug. The investigator told her his body would be set for an autopsy, but that’s not what happened, she explained. 

Mrs. Abernathy said the investigator told her Wesley could be seen on security footage at around 3:30 am the day he died doubled over in pain, before going to the bathroom where he remained doubled over as if his stomach was hurting. He then returned to his bunk. A man who slept nearby Wesley later told the investigator that when Wesley returned from the bathroom he told the man he believes he may have ingested fentanyl. She said the family knows he bought a cigarette from someone the night before and they’re worried that it may have been laced with a drug. 

In another call with the investigator about three weeks after the funeral he told Mrs. Abernathy that he had seen those bruises and had requested an autopsy, Mrs. Abernathy said, but when she explained to the investigator that the funeral home told the family they saw no signs of an autopsy having been done, the news caught the investigator off guard. 

Wesley and his daughter, Paizlee Abernathy (photo courtesy of the family).

“That doesn’t make sense, because I specifically requested for a full autopsy on him. They had his body at forensic sciences, so I don’t understand why they didn’t do an autopsy,” Mrs. Abernathy said the investigator told her, referring to the Alabama Department of Forensic Sciences (ADFS), which can conduct full autopsies and drug toxicology screens on incarcerated people. 

Mrs. Abernathy requested the report on her husband’s death from the ADFS but in a letter to her on June 20th, and in an identical letter on July 19th, the department said the reports in that case weren’t yet public records because the death was either still under investigation by the local district attorney, or because the department hadn’t yet finalized the reports. 

ADOC declined to directly answer Appleseed’s questions regarding the statement the investigator made about his concerns over the signs of injuries and his request for a full autopsy. 

“The death of inmate Abernathy is still under investigation by the Law Enforcement Services Division. The ADOC does not have the authority to authorize autopsies. Any questions regarding autopsies should be directed to the Alabama Department of Forensic Sciences,” the ADOC spokesperson wrote to Appleseed. 

ADFS in a response to Appleseed also didn’t answer whether Wesley received a full autopsy or just a toxicology screening, and instead sent a letter identical to those sent to Mrs. Abernathy. 

ADOC first confirmed for Appleseed that autopsies would no longer be done by the state for suspected natural or overdose deaths. UAB Hospital terminated its longstanding agreement with ADOC to conduct autopsies and/or toxicology screens on suspected natural and overdose deaths on April 22, 2024, ADOC told Appleseed. Families recently filed a lawsuit against UAB after discovering that their incarcerated loved ones’ bodies were returned to them for interment missing internal organs. 

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Welcome Summer Intern Katia Apedoh

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“Alabama Appleseed is a natural bridge between the diversity, equity, and inclusion work that I have done in high school and what I plan to do in college. I am so grateful to Appleseed for the opportunity to learn about the problems that impact justice-involved people in Alabama and see what it means to be an advocate!”

Katia Apedoh just graduated from Hoover High School, where she served as leadership for Student Diversity Council, captained Ethics Bowl, and received her International Baccalaureate (IB) Diploma. Katia was very active with diversity work within the Hoover City Schools District, even developing a diversity initiative for teachers for which she received the 2024 Alabama Princeton Prize in Race Relations. In the fall, Katia will attend Washington and Lee University where she plans to double major in English and Politics with a minor in Law, Justice, and Society. Katia hopes to attend law school.

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In an overcrowded prison dorm with no correctional officers present, a beloved brother and son is killed, one of four deaths at Donaldson prison in three days.

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

Deandre Roney died June 9, 2024. He was one of four men at Donaldson prison who died over a three-day period in June (photo courtesy of his family).

Deandre Roney knew his life was in danger, so he asked officers at Donaldson Correctional Facility to move him, as did his family. A man had been chasing him with a knife for days, and had already stabbed him once, the blade breaking off inside of him, his family told Appleseed. 

Corrections staff assured the family that they would move Deandre to safety. He wasn’t. Instead, Deandre was stabbed in his back and in his head by a makeshift knife the following day. He died June 9 at UAB Hospital. Mr. Roney was scheduled to be released on Nov. 6, according to court records. 

Deandre was one of four men at Donaldson prison who died over a three-day period in June. One man died while in hospice care at the prison, and two others were found unresponsive and later died. 

“Friday night my brother called and asked if he could have someone come and get him out of that dorm, because he didn’t feel safe. He wanted to rest,” said Chante Roney, Deandre’s sister. Deandre’s mother called and spoke to an officer who told her he’d get her son moved, Ms. Roney said. 

“Saturday morning my brother called and asked if we contacted anyone there, because no one ever came,” Ms. Roney said. Within a few hours of that phone call her brother was stabbed.

The day of the stabbing the family got a call from another incarcerated man telling them they needed to call the prison and that something had happened to Deandre. They called and spoke to a lieutenant whom they said was “very rude” and said they’d have to call back on Monday,  Ms. Roney said. Later Saturday evening the prison’s warden called the family and confirmed that he was injured, but did not tell the family the serious extent of his injuries. 

“He said he was at UAB and he was stable, and for us to go over there and see him. He’s ready to be seen. Just prepare for the worst,” Ms. Roney said the warden told them. “But we were thinking maybe he was just injured real bad, not knowing he was already dead. They really just had him set up so we can come and view his body.” 

No correctional officers present

In the days after his death the family received calls from men in Donaldson prison who knew Deandre and what happened to him. Those men told the family that Deandre was looking for help that Saturday, but there were no officers in his dorm. Deandre walked toward the prison’s faith dorm where officers could usually be found, Ms. Roney said, but he never made it to safety. “This guy snuck behind him and killed him and left him outside,” Ms. Roney said.

Deandre Roney (photo courtesy of his family)

People who are nearing release can often become targets of violence in Alabama’s deadly prisons, where staffing is woefully under court-ordered staffing levels, and prisons are overpopulated and filled with drugs and weapons. Donaldson prison was at 150 percent capacity in April, the last month for which the Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC) has released a monthly statistical report. 

“He was reaching out, uneasy. He didn’t feel safe. He felt like something was going to happen before he made it home by November, and they failed him. They really failed him,” Ms. Roney said. 

The man who the family was told by others inside Donaldson prison killed Deandre is serving 30 years after pleading guilty to attempted murder and assault in the first degree in 2011. ADOC declined to say whether anyone has been charged with Deandre’s killing, and court records don’t indicate the man the family believes killed him has been charged in connection with the death. 

“There are no further updates to share at this point. The LESD investigation is active and ongoing,” an ADOC spokeswoman responded to Appleseed, referring to ADOC’s Law Enforcement Services Division. 

“We were saving money up for him to come home, to buy him clothes, because he’s been gone all these years,” Ms. Roney said. “He was coming home the first week of November, His birthday was at the end of November, and he didn’t even make it.” Instead of using that money to help her brother make a  life outside of prison, the family used it to bury him. 

150 days left to serve

Deandre’s handwritten motion for reinstatement of his probation, which goes into detail about telling his probation officer that he lost his job and was unable to pay his fines and fees.

Deandre pleaded guilty to first-degree robbery and attempted murder in 2002 and 2003 respectively, and was sentenced to 20-years split sentence, to serve three years with five years of probation following his release. He was 16-years old at the time of the robbery, court records show. He remained in state custody until July 2007, but his probation was revoked by then-Jefferson County Circuit Court Judge Gloria Bahakel in November 2008 after he missed one check-in with his probation officer and failed to pay his court-ordered fines and fees that month, court records show. He was remanded back to prison to serve out that original 20-year sentence. Deandre was 150 days shy of completing his sentence when he was killed. 

Ms. Roney plans to speak at an upcoming public hearing of the Joint Legislative Prison Oversight Committee meeting on July 24th. “I would love to speak on my brother’s behalf,” she told Appleseed. She won’t be alone that day in Montgomery. Tim Mathis, who’s son, Chase Mathis, died moments after he spoke to him by phone in Elmore Correctional Facility on June 4th, also plans to speak to those lawmakers. 

Ms. Roney wonders how long her brother remained there on that ground outside before other incarcerated men, not officers, came to his aide. 

“Inmates had to go out there and get my brother off of the ground and get him to the infirmary. He didn’t have a chance,” Ms. Roney said. 

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Another death in an Alabama prison, another grieving family

Chase Mathis was confined to a wheelchair when he went to prison. His mobility challenges meant he often did not have enough to eat and did not get his basic needs met. But in Alabama’s drug-infested prisons, lethal drugs are always available even when food is not.

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

Chase Mathis died inside Elmore Correctional Facility on June 4, 2024. His grieving family is seeking answers (photo courtesy of his family).

Chase Mathis died inside Elmore Correctional Facility on June 4 moments after his father last spoke to him by phone. Now the father is seeking answers, and wants to expose Alabama’s troubled prisons that failed to keep his son, who entered prison in a wheelchair, alive.

Before prescription pills took their toll, Chase was a farm boy and a prankster, affectionately called Plowboy in his community. “He’s been climbing on tractors since he was big enough to ride a bicycle to the fields…He could pretty much run anything. If he could reach the controls he could run it,” Tim Mathis said. His son grew up in a small rural community between Dothan and Cottonwood. “He loved to shoot fireworks. He loved to hunt. Just normal country stuff.”

Chase Mathis loved making friends and family laugh (photo courtesy of Chase’s family)

Chase went to great lengths to make people laugh, his father remembered. During a friend’s birthday party at a local fast food restaurant, Chase dressed in full clown costume, makeup and all, just to make people smile. 

His son’s life took a turn when he became addicted to prescription pain pills, Mr. Mathis said, but it was a 2014 car accident that sent him to prison. Chase was driving with a friend and was intoxicated when they believe he fell asleep at the wheel. The car struck a tree, killing his friend. Chase suffered multiple broken bones throughout his body, three skull fractures, a torn spleen and an aneurysm. “We stayed in the trauma unit for 41 days before we knew he was going to live,” Mr. Mathis said.  A year-and-a-half later Chase was indicted for murder, but Chase later agreed to a plea deal and a reduced charge of manslaughter. He was sentenced to 15 years. 

Chase’s attorney asked that he be put into the Alabama Department of Corrections’ Substance Abuse Program (SAP), Mr. Mathis said, but he never received that critical treatment once incarcerated. “Ain’t none of that happening,” Mr. Mathis said of the SAP program. “It’s just a crock…If we had known that at the time, if I could go back and do it again I’d say, take your damned chances, go to trial and see what the jury says.” 

ADOC’s own data confirm that there has been a 64% decrease in the number of incarcerated people completing drug treatment over the last decade. Staffing is threadbare at the troubled agency, which constricts the availability of rehabiliative programming. Magnifying Chase’s challenges in prison was the fact that he relied on a wheelchair. He called his father one day in tears, and said he was hungry. “I can’t walk,” Chase told his father, and his dorm is too far from the dining hall. By the time he wheels himself there it’s too late, and the food is being put up, he said. If he buys food from the prison store he has to eat it as soon as he buys it, or else he’ll be robbed of the food, and the officers do nothing to stop it, Chase told his father. 

Mr. Mathis called then-ADOC Commissioner Jeff Dunn to discuss his concerns but Dunn declined to talk to him, so Mr. Mathis said he’d like to visit the prison and talk to him in person. 

“And I was advised that if I set foot on the property up there I’d be charged with a terroristic threat,” Mr. Mathis said. 

“There was no medical rehab whatsoever. He had to teach himself how to walk,” Mr. Mathis said. His son began using drugs in prison, he believes, to get his mind off of the brutal violence and unchecked depravity surrounding him inside daily. 

Mr. Mathis spoke to his son the day he died. Their call ended at 8:32 p.m. on June 4th. He received a call from the prison at 10 p.m. with the news of Chase’s death. An investigator with ADOC’s Law Enforcement Services Division told Mr. Mathis that he believes Chase died within 15 minutes of talking to Mr. Mathis.

Chase Mathis (photo courtesy of the family).

Mr. Mathis said it’s hard to know for certain, but he’s concerned his son may have been killed with what’s known as a “hotshot,” or a lethal dose of drugs administered against one’s will and meant to kill. 

“Chase told me he owed these guys money. He didn’t tell me who they were, but he told the investigator. He gave them their names,” Mr. Mathis said. Chase owed more than $1,000 in separate amounts to three men at Staton prison, he said. He assumed it was drug debt, which is common in Alabama prisons and often results in the extortion of family members, assaults and homicides. Because of that debt and threats he was receiving, Chase told investigators and asked to be moved, his father said, but instead of placing him in a cell by himself for protection, his son was placed in general population. Chase’s deaths just moments after arriving at Elmore prison is suspicious, he explained. 

Chase’s body was sent to the state’s lab at the Alabama Department of Forensic Sciences for an autopsy, Mr. Mathis said. He was told by ADOC that the autopsy would be done because the death was under criminal investigation. 

ADOC first confirmed for Appleseed that autopsies would no longer be done by the state for suspected natural or overdose deaths. UAB Hospital terminated its longstanding agreement with ADOC to conduct autopsies and/or toxicology screens on suspected natural and overdose deaths on April 22, 2024, ADOC told Appleseed. Families recently filed a lawsuit against UAB after discovering that their incarcerated loved ones’ bodies were returned to them for interment missing internal organs. 

Mr. Mathis has signed up to speak at the upcoming public hearing during the Joint Legislative Prison Oversight Committee meeting on July 24th. He’s still not sure what he’ll say, but knows he wants to talk about the drug crisis in Alabama’s prisons. 

Mr. Mathis said he’d like to see a nationwide news agency come in and expose the crisis in Alabama’s prisons. “So the average person out here can see, because if we had a dog pound that was run like the facility my child’s been at, they’d be pitching a fit,” he said. 

National coverage of Alabama’s horrific prisons has been widespread at least since 2019, and sadly the humanitarian crisis persists. Reports have appeared in USA Today, The New York Times, CNN, Politico, Fox News and more.

Families with incarcerated loved ones attend the Prison Oversight Committee hearing in December 14, 2023 (photo courtesy of Alabama Daily News).

Reaction from lawmakers on the Joint Legislative Prison Oversight Committee after hearing from family members of incarcerated people at a previous public hearing in December 2023 resulted in passage of SB322 this past legislative session, which creates a family services unit to provide answers and information to families of incarcerated people who have been injured or hospitalized. 

Alabama’s overcrowded, understaffed and deadly prisons have been in a state of crisis for decades, yet with each week the crisis only gets worse. Appleseed regularly talks to family members who have lost loved ones inside prisons, or who are being threatened with violence or death, and family members extorted to keep them safe, and it’s not just Appleseed staff who are having these conversations. 

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’ve gotten another call from another constituent where their son was beat up because the gangs are running our prisons, and the prison guards are bringing the drugs and the cell phones to the gang members,” Alabama House Speaker Pro Tem Chris Pringle, R-Mobile, said during a Legislative Contract Review Committee’s meeting in June. “I mean, these people call me and they’re crying their eyes out because they’ve got a video tape of their son that’s just been (sexually assaulted) or beaten up by the gangs. I feel sorry for you all, but please God, we’ve got to do something to protect these prisoners. It’s insane what’s going on in our prison system.”

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Welcome Summer Intern London Breedlove

My name is London Breedlove and I am so excited for the opportunity I have been given to intern with Alabama Appleseed this summer! A Mississippi native, I was brought to Alabama on a tennis scholarship at the University of Montevallo. There I am a rising senior majoring in Political Science and minoring in prelaw. I immediately fell in love with the campus and my professors who created a safe academic atmosphere and close-knit community for my classmates and me. In my political science classes, I have learned the intricacies of Alabama’s state and local governments, as well as their Department of Corrections.

My interest in criminal justice reform sparked through my education where I learned the unconstitutionality of Alabama’s prisons as well as their significant recidivism rate due to lack of reentry programs. In my Public Policy class in particular, we were given policy briefs done by researchers at Alabama Appleseed that examined excessive fines and sentencing, illustrating the institutional injustices adopted by the State. Working closely with their materials allowed me to have a better understanding of the work that this nonprofit does as well as the meaningful connections they create with their clients. I knew from this class that I wanted to work with an organization like theirs, so when I was given the opportunity to be an intern here I immediately took it.

I am so grateful to intern at a place like Alabama Appleseed whose mission is to provide resources and care for those who have been neglected by our governmental systems. I hope to gain my law degree so that I can work in public service and be a voice for those whose rights have been stripped.

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Welcome Legal Extern Tayler Walton

 

My name is Tayler Walton and I have the absolute privilege of working for Alabama Appleseed this summer as their legal intern. I am a rising 3L at Cumberland School of Law and I could not be more ecstatic to be working for an organization like Appleseed. I went into law school wanting to own my own Second Chance nonprofit and the week of my law school orientation– Mrs. Carla Crowder came to my school to talk about Alabama Appleseed and it felt like a sign that I was where I needed to be.

I come from a family of servitude and it has always been a passion of mine to serve in some way but it was not until freshman year of undergrad that I knew specifically what my passions were. I had taken a sociology course called Deviant Behavior and that class taught me about the disparities, gaps and injustice within our criminal justice system. I grew up very sheltered and was unaware of the struggles that Black and Brown people combat everyday. That one undergrad class is what ignited my fire to want to become a lawyer and be a part of the change I wanted to see. Not only this but representation matters. The people most affected by the system look like me and my family and the impact that representation can have for these men and women who have their spirits broken time and time again is unquantifiable.

My purpose in this life is to be a voice for the voiceless and it is people like Mrs. Crowder and organizations like Appleseed that have provided me an opportunity to do so. Working for Appleseed is a once in a lifetime opportunity. To be a part of an organization that challenges the status quo– magnifies injustice, as well as provides solutions to the injustice has been life changing. This organization is a family through and through and I can only hope to continue to be a part of it for years to come.

I am so grateful for this opportunity to work with Alabama Appleseed. I will continue to be a sponge and absorb as much as I can from this experience and hopefully in the near future I can create a sister organization to Appleseed that fights the system alongside it.

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Legislative 2024 Recap: Hope is our superpower and we plan to keep using it.

By Elaine Burdeshaw, Appleseed Policy Associate

This session certainly came with highs and lows; we experienced great wins and disappointing losses. At the start of the session Appleseed aimed to address the excessive sentences of individuals serving life without the possibility of parole for crimes that involved no physical injury, the lack of state funding for reentry housing, and the lack of oversight in our unconstitutional prisons. This year we saw significant steps forward in two of those areas.

THE HARD NEWS

The session started with unprecedented, broad support for our Second Chance bill, HB29, sponsored by Rep. Chris England, which would open a small window for older people serving life without parole for crimes involving no physical injury to have their sentences reviewed. Supporters emerged from across the political spectrum: faith communities, Alabama prison ministry volunteers, members of the judiciary, and former members of Congress. Even the author of the original Habitual Felony Offender Act himself saw the need to reevaluate certain life without parole sentences. But as things sometimes go, we were met with new opposition that caused it to fail in the House of Representatives, the chamber it passed out of only a year before. This was a difficult pill to swallow, and even more difficult when we had to make calls letting the men who would be affected and their families know they’d have to wait at least another year for relief. What we thought would be heartbreaking conversations were ones that in turn encouraged us to keep going; the men serving these sentences were still filled with excitement for what could be, despite our setback this session. So, for now we continue to represent individual clients facing these unfair sentences and press on with hope that we can get the Second Chance bill over the finish line soon.

THE GOOD NEWS

In the face of this disappointment and what was a hectic session all around, we saw great progress toward more oversight in our prisons and more funding for reentry housing in our state. A bill sponsored by Sen. Clyde Chambliss, chair of the Joint Prison Oversight Committee, directly addresses some needs expressed by families and loved ones of people who are incarcerated. SB322 creates a much needed constituent services unit put in place to respond to families and provides that one employee of the unit oversee its services and act as a liaison between the prison system and Joint Prison Oversight Committee. It also creates a position within the Alabama Department of Examiners of Public Accounts who will assist the Oversight Committee full-time, adding additional support to this important committee and hopefully expanding committee members’ capacity for overseeing the Department of Corrections.

Another bill, sponsored by Rep. Rex Reynolds and Sen. Greg Albritton, provides $2.3 million dollars to the Bureau of Pardons and Paroles for housing and transitional spaces. The vast need for better and more expansive reentry services in our state is evident. Strengthening our communities and making them safer starts here. The money provided by HB479 puts us on the right track to getting there.

WHERE WE STAND

Yes, this was a difficult session, but here is what we know: everyday Alabamians– families of incarcerated people and people who care to pay attention and speak out about the state of our criminal justice system and prisons– created meaningful change when things felt almost impossible. The powerful voices of everyday Alabamians created this progress, and your voices will continue to make progress for this state in the future. A quote from Bryan Stevenson, Founder of the Equal Justice Initiative, reminded me of something I know to be true:

“It’s not a pie in the sky hope, it’s not a preference for optimism over pessimism. It’s just an orientation of the spirit. I think we have to be willing to believe things we haven’t seen… And so, I think hopelessness is the enemy of justice. I think injustice prevails where hopelessness persists. And so, hope is our requirement, it’s our superpower.”

Hope is our superpower, and we plan to keep using it. Thank you for your continued commitment to justice and for partnering with us to build a bolder and brighter Alabama. Appleseed’s work in courthouses, at the local level, and in communities across this state goes on long past when the lights are turned off at the Statehouse. And we have already begun planning for next year! See you then.

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Joseph Raines has a new life at age 69. Now we just have to prove he was born.

By Carla Crowder, Executive Director

Joe Raines walks free for the first time in 43 years, accompanied by Appleseed Staff Attorney Scott Fuqua, and Rick Hudson, a leader in Hunter Street Baptist Church’s prison ministry program and board member at Shepherd’s Fold Reentry Ministry, where Mr. Raines resides. (photo credit Bernard Troncale)

Joseph Raines spent 43 years in Alabama’s prison system for a robbery conviction. At age 69, he was still working in St. Clair prison’s vehicle restoration plant, lifting heavy pieces of metal for $1 an hour when Appleseed took on his case.

Like most of our clients, Mr. Raines was serving life imprisonment without parole (LWOP) and was supposed to die in prison. On February 9, he walked free, enjoyed bacon at the Burger King in Springville, and slept in a peaceful, nonchaotic place for the first time in four decades.  

Appleseed attorney Scott Fuqua served as lead attorney on the case, drafting the post-conviction petition that showed Mr. Raines’ LWOP sentence was excessive under current law; Jefferson County District Danny Carr did not oppose our efforts. There was no victim opposition either, as the conviction is so old the victim has passed away. Mr. Raines was resentenced to time-served by Jefferson County Circuit Judge Kechia Davis.

Joseph Raines with his attorneys, Staff Attorney Scott Fuqua and Executive Director Carla Crowder. (photo credit Bernard Troncale)

Appleseed lawyers were able to show that Mr. Raines demonstrated remarkable rehabilitation, despite his draconian sentence and having no reasonable hope for release. As one of his supervisors at St. Clair remarked: “I only saw politeness and a willingness to help others.”

It was shocking to him to be able to leave prison after so many years. “I was sitting in the car with Scott, and I said, ‘Am I really here?’” Mr. Raines said recalling those first moments as a free man. The surreal feeling continued as he walked into the bright morning lights of the Springville Burger King, “I just kept thinking, I am not here. This is not me,” he told me later. His other thought: “Do I deserve this?”

Working by age 8, homeless by 13

Because re-entry resources are threadbare in Alabama, Appleseed provides re-entry services to all of our legal clients, starting with ensuring they obtain the proper identification to move on with their lives. ID is critical for employment, housing, medical care, bank accounts and more.

But the only state-issued ID that Mr. Raines has is from the Alabama Department of Corrections identifying him as a recently released felon. He has never had a birth certificate, nor a social security card.

Joseph Raines on his release day. (photo credit Bernard Troncale)

We learned about his unusual background during early visits as we prepared his case and considered re-entry needs.

As Mr. Raines recalls, he was born in a trailer in Homestead, Florida. He was told his mother passed away due to an act of violence soon after his birth and his paternal grandmother took custody of him. Lacking a birth certificate, he did not attend school past kindergarten, and received little guidance, care, or support as a young child. He knew he was not wanted, but was too small to figure out where to go or how to take care of himself.

By the time he was 8-years old, he was wandering the dirt roads of the agricultural community where he lived and seeking out odd jobs. A farmer took pity on him and let him work in a produce-sorting barn. Sometimes Mr. Raines slept in the barn; none of his family checked on his welfare. That farmer also taught Mr. Raines how to drive, sending him on errands in a farm truck at a very young age. “He sort of took me under his wing,” Mr. Raines explained.

At 13, he hitchhiked to Miami, then found work as a flagman on a construction site in Daytona, Florida. He slept under a pier and kept his clothes in a bus station locker. There were jobs as a dishwasher, in construction, whatever he could find with his kindergarten education.

Throughout years of neglect, abuse, and just barely hanging on, Mr. Raines never once interacted with child welfare authorities, school officials, or any governmental agencies responsible for ensuring that children are not left to wander the streets with no education, resources, or care. His adventures took him from Virginia to California, and once involved reliance on a station wagon with no floorboards.

Joseph Raines with Appleseed clients (l to r) Robert Cheeks, Alonzo Hurth, John Coleman, Willie Ingram, Ronald McKeithen, and Lee Davis at Mr. Coleman’s 90th birthday party.

It was not until the inevitable occurred – hunger, need, and desperation led him to steal things, that law enforcement stepped in to punish and incarcerate him. It was in jail where he learned to read, with help from a pocket dictionary that a guard gave him.

In 1982, with a handful of out-of-state priors for minor offenses such as check forgery and theft, Mr. Raines was involved in a robbery at a Shop-A-Snack convenience store on Montclair Road in Birmingham. His gun never left his pants and he assured the clerk he was not going to hurt her. Mr. Raines was pulled over 6 days later in Flagstaff, Arizona and confessed to the robbery. He explained to the detective that he was trying to get back to his 3-year-old son in southern California and had robbed the gas station because he had no money for gas or means to earn it, according to testimony at his trial. Also at his trial, he acknowledged having at least three prior felonies, which resulted in the mandatory Life Without Parole sentence. He was 26.

For the next 43 years, a government that failed to provide intervention, care, or assistance to Mr. Raines as a neglected and homeless child found the means to imprison him for most of his life for crimes in which no one else was physically injured.  

“I’ve tried to treat people better than I was treated.”

Every piece of Joseph Raines’ history adds up to a man who should be bitter and angry. Or at least hostile and wary. But this is not who he is at all.  

Joseph Raines with Re-entry Coordinator Ronald McKeithen and client John Coleman.

“I’ve tried to treat people better than I was treated,” he told us during one of our first visits with him at St. Clair. While incarcerated, he earned a GED, mostly avoided trouble and had been living in the honor dorm and worked in Alabama Correctional Industries for nearly 7 years.

Mr. Raines is open and easy-going. He asks for very little. Of course, he’s been somewhat overwhelmed by various aspects of the modern world. This is a man who had never before sat in front of a computer until February, 2024. 

“To be honest, I’m loving every minute of it. I find a whole lot of stuff amazing. Walmart for one. I’ve never been in a store that huge.” Buying a mustache trimmer at Walmart made him happy. Walking out the door without having to tell anyone where he’s going makes him happy. “I enjoy the freedom of just being able to walk and throw a rock if I want to.” Currently, he resides at Shepherd’s Fold Reentry Ministry, but is looking forward to his own apartment.

One of his biggest challenges is that he wants to work and stay busy. But without a social security number, he cannot obtain employment, and without a birth certificate he cannot obtain a social security number.

Joseph Raines with Appleseed Re-entry Case Manager Kathleen Henderson.

Appleseed’s re-entry case manager Kathleen Henderson has worked miracles with birth certificates before, proving our client Larry Garrett was indeed Larry Garrett, even though his birth certificate from Talladega County failed to include his actual name. Mr. Garrett is now joyfully employed as driving tractor trailers all over America for Western Express. For now, Kathleen is working every angle: genealogy experts, medical records, school records from 1960s rural Florida, brainstorming with the nicest people at the Social Security office.

Meanwhile, Mr. Raines stays hopeful, and has begun sharing his story with students and other groups. He enjoys spending time with one of his old friends from St. Clair, our client John Coleman, who was released in February, 2023 and just turned 90. They were housed in the same dorm for years, back when both men had been condemned to die in prison.

Despite all of this, his troubling childhood, his desperate youth, being incarcerated for two-thirds of his life in one of the country’s worst prison systems, Mr. Raines is upbeat.

“I was talking to Larry,” he shared. “I told him as soon as I’m able to get my ID, I’m going to enroll in the CDL class. If I can have seven to eight good years of driving, I can retire in peace.”

He certainly deserves that.

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Five Years Ago, the United States Department of Justice Declared Alabama Prisons Unconstitutional, Unsafe, and Harmful. They Still Are.

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

It was five years ago today that the U.S. Department of Justice released a report detailing violations of the U.S. Constitution’s prohibition against cruel and unusual punishment for incarcerated men in Alabama prisons, and since then more than 1,000 people have died in state prison custody. 

The Alabama Legislature’s Joint Prison Oversight Committee meets today and is tasked with providing critical oversight of a department that for decades has been steeped in mismanagement, chaos, corruption, and violence. 

The DOJ issued a second report in July 2020 detailing widespread use of excessive force, including deadly force, by corrections officers against incarcerated people, and in December 2020 the DOJ sued the state and the Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC). The trial, which will be closely watched across the nation, is set for November, but could be pushed back.

Throughout the last five years, state officials have provided major pay increases to prison guards, increased the ADOC’s budget by 48%, and signed a medical care contract for $1 billion. ADOC officers confiscate hundreds of weapons, even guns, along with enormous amounts of drugs on a regular basis. But nothing seems to stop the carnage. Alabama prisons have a death rate five times the national average, and 2023 saw record loss of life, with 325 incarcerated people dying in state prisons.   

Low prison staffing levels were flagged in that first DOJ report as being a catalyst of the violence, yet from December 2017 until Sept. 30, 2020, the state showed an increase of just 25 officers over nearly two years, which was less than 1.5 percent of a judge’s order to add 2,000 correctional officers by February 2022, and the staffing problem has only worsened. ADOC’s quarterly reports show total security staffing fell from 2,102 in December 2021 to 1,763 by September 2023, even after massive recruiting efforts, pay raises and incentives.

And many officers are part of the problem. Between 2018 and the end of 2023, ADOC fired 366 Corrections staff, and more quit before being terminated. During those years 134 ADOC officers and staff were charged with work-related crimes, Appleseed discovered through a records request, with charges ranging from promoting prison contraband to murder. 

In a recent case, ADOC Sgt. Demarcus Sanders in July 2023 was charged with murder in the death of Rubyn James Murray, 38, beaten to death at the hands of two other incarcerated men, directed to do so by Sanders, court records allege. Those two incarcerated men are also charged with murder. “The defendant confessed to the offense,” an ADOC investigator wrote of Sanders in a deposition. 

One of the last men to die in Alabama prisons was 39-year-old Samuel Ward, who was stabbed to death on March 27 by another incarcerated man at Limestone Correctional Facility. It was the fifth homicide at that prison since May 2021, and the second during the month of March. 

Gov Kay Ivey and supporters of her plan to build new prisons have said those buildings are the answer to Alabama’s deadly prison crisis, and while lawmakers have secured the money to build the first $1.08 billion prison – in part with $400 in federal COVID-relief funds, and potentially $100 million from state education funds, money for a second planned prison hasn’t been found. 

Immediately, after the 2019 report was released, Ivey began promising an “Alabama solution” to the problem. “Over the coming months, my Administration will be working closely with DOJ to ensure that our mutual concerns are addressed and that we remain steadfast in our commitment to public safety, making certain that this Alabama problem has an Alabama solution,” Ivey said at the time.

Asked what the most significant accomplishments to address the prison crisis to date have been, and about the lack of funding for the second planned prison, Gov. Kay Ivey’s office declined to provide a response, and instead sent portions of Ivey’s most recent state of the state speech. 

“The Alabama Department of Corrections certainly remains a key focus of our state’s public safety efforts. I will be frank: Running a corrections system is a hard job, and I know everyone has an opinion on how they can do it better. There is no one more capable to lead that effort here in Alabama than Commissioner John Hamm,” Ivey said in her February speech. 

“Prisons around the country and on every level – federal, state and local – are experiencing challenges. But we remain committed to doing everything in our power to make improvements where we can in our state system.

“We are moving forward in our mission to build two new facilities. At the same time, we are working to stop contraband coming into our existing facilities, and we are doubling down on our staff recruitment efforts and seeing record graduating classes of officers because of it,” Ivey’s speech reads. 

New buildings alone won’t solve the culture of violence and death inside Alabama’s prisons, which is exactly what the Department of Justice told the state in the 2019 report: “While new facilities might cure some of these physical plant issues, it is important to note that new facilities alone will not resolve the contributing factors to the overall unconstitutional condition of ADOC prisons, such as understaffing, culture, management deficiencies, corruption, policies, training, non-existent investigations, violence, illicit drugs, and sexual abuse.”

While no ADOC official attended the Legislature’s Joint Prison Oversight Committee meeting in December, family members of those who’ve died in state custody did, and spoke of the brutal ways in which their loved ones’ lives ended. 

“When you see your dad for the first time in 10 years and half of his face is almost gone because he was beaten, it does something to you,”17-year-old MaKayla Mount told lawmakers at that December meeting carrying her father’s urn with her in the State House that day. Christopher Mount was beaten and strangled to death inside a protective custody cell at Easterling Correctional Facility on Mother Day 2023. 

“My son was raped in February of this year and it took them over a month to get him moved,” one mother told the lawmakers at that meeting. 

Appleseed’s Executive Director, Carla Crowder, described for lawmakers at that December meeting how ADOC repeatedly failed to hold accountable the 38-year-old suspect in the kidnapping, rape and torture of 22-year-old Daniel Williams, who died at a hospital on Nov. 9. The suspect was involved in nine instances of sex assault, rape, and stabbing since 2017 in ADOC while incarcerated, yet there is no documentation that the department disciplined the man or placed him in segregation. 

“His classification summary showed a five-year clear record of institutional violence, which resulted in a perfect score of zero in risk assessment conducted in October, and a total score low enough for him to be placed in medium security in an open bay dorm. The psych associates signed off on this and the warden signed off on this,” Crowder said at the meeting. 

These kinds of attacks are precisely what DOJ identified five years ago: “The combination of ADOC’s overcrowding and understaffing results in prisons that are inadequately supervised, with inappropriate and unsafe housing designations, creating an environment rife with violence, extortion, drugs, and weapons. Prisoner-on-prisoner homicide and sexual abuse are common. Prisoners who are seriously injured or stabbed must find their way to security staff elsewhere in the facility or bang on the door of the dormitory to gain the attention of correctional officers. Prisoners have been tied up for days by other prisoners while unnoticed by security staff.” 

The report was signed by since-retired U.S. Attorneys Louis Franklin Sr., Jay Town and Richard Moore, all Trump appointees. 

Alabama prisons in January were at 168 percent capacity, and held 20,469 people in combined prisons designed for 12,115. In the five years since, the state’s prison population has remained the same. At the time of the release of the DOJ’s 2019 report, Alabama prisons held just one less incarcerated person than were being housed in January, 2024.

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“If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair.”

Turning memories into art with people who have lost loved ones to violence

By Leah Nelson, Research Director

The Memorial Chair event included people who had lost loved ones to violence and invited them to decorate folding chairs in their memory

Alabama Appleseed spent much of 2022 and 2023 traveling the state and talking with victims of violent crime. We focused on people from communities that are disproportionately affected by violence but whose voices are not usually centered in Alabama’s endless and endlessly political discussions about crime and punishment. We asked them about themselves and their experiences – and we asked them what they needed in the aftermath of violent victimization.

Pam Moser decorate a chair in honor of her son Brian Rigsby who died in October 2023 while incarcerated at Staton Correctional Facility

Since then, we’ve been finding ways to turn some of those needs into realities. On a policy level, we’ve supported the Crime Victims Compensation Commission (CVCC) in its request for a more sustainable form of funding to ensure quick responses to people in need of emergency assistance with things like funeral expenses for loved ones who died by homicide.

Then there’s the personal work. More than anything else, the survivors and victims we met with needed to talk. They needed professional counseling. They needed grief support groups. They asked us – especially our community navigator who facilitated focus groups and who lost a son to violence herself – to come back and keep the conversation going.

On Saturday, March 2, at St. Peter A.M.E. Church on the west side of Montgomery, we hosted the first of what we hope will be many healing art events.

“If they don’t give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair,” Rep. Shirley Chisholm, the first Black woman elected to Congress, exhorted Americans who wanted to get involved in the political process. 

Decorating a chair for a loved one lost to violence

At Saturday’s Memorial Chair event, we invited people who have lost loved ones to violence to decorate folding chairs in memory of their loved ones. The group included people whose loved ones died by homicide in the free world and those who lost loved ones died preventable deaths in prison. After they created their usable works of art, they broke bread together around a table inside St Peter A.M.E. and offered each other words of comfort and encouragement. There were tears, but also smiles, embraces, and determination to support each other and do everything in their power to make this place we all live in safer and more compassionate.

Appleseed wants to see this project grow and evolve. If you would like to help us host a memorial chair event with people in your community who have lost loved ones to homicide and violence, please reach out to admin@alabamaappleseed.org.

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