An Appleseed-supported bill that would bring more fairness to the parole revocation process and help prevent unnecessary revocations that do not contribute to public safety has been filed in the Alabama Legislature.

SB254, sponsored by Sen. Sam Givhan, R-Huntsville, would give the parole board greater discretion when someone on parole is arrested for a minor offense or when they have committed technical violations. Current law mandates revocations in many of these kinds of cases. The rigidity of the existing statute has resulted in people with long histories of employment and compliance being returned to Alabama’s crowded and violent prisons unnecessarily. 

SB254 was developed after years of research and communication with incarcerated Alabamians. Appleseed shared some of these stories in our Taking a Life report, which documented people across the state who were living successful lives and meaningfully contributing to the workforce, then sent back to prison on a parole revocation despite having no new convictions.   

            This common sense bill:  

• Ensures the parole board is able to consider all the facts when someone on parole has been charged with a new offense, but not yet convicted, to determine whether they are satisfied that the individual seems to have committed the offense.

• Ensures people with certain underlying offenses who have been arrested for more serious crimes are still automatically revoked, but allows the board discretion when those same individuals are arrested on more minor charges or when they have committed a technical parole violation. 

• If an individual’s parole has been revoked for a new charge and that charge is later dismissed or worked down to something more minor, the board may automatically reinstate parole or bring the individual back before them within 90 days for a review. 

Among the people impacted by this bill are Archie Hamlett and Vinson French, both men in their 50s, who were incarcerated under life sentences for nonviolent crimes, then eventually released on parole. They spent years working and contributing to their communities, then were arrested on new charges that never resulted in convictions..

Mr. Hamlett now, following revocation

Archie Hamlett at his home in Hazel Green before his parole was revoked last year.

Mr. Hamlett, who is 53, is currently trying to manage his trucking company, Hamlett Logistics, from Easterling Correctional Facility. He was paroled from prison, where he served decades on a marijuana trafficking conviction, and was a successful business owner and homeowner. Last January, Madison County deputies pulled him over as he drove home on icy roads after suspecting he was driving under the influence. While he was detained on the side of the road, he requested to retrieve a urinal from his truck; Mr. Hamlett has a documented medical condition. The deputies declined that request, and he urinated beside his truck. He was charged with public lewdness, a misdemeanor that was later nolle prossed on a motion by the state, meaning they declined to prosecute the case, noting that he was already returning to prison through mandatory parole revocation. SB254 would have provided the parole board discretion to consider all of the circumstances involved in his arrest, including his medical condition, the minor nature of the public lewdness charge, the behavior that contributed to that charge, and any recommendations from his parole officer. When the charges were nolle prossed by the state, Archie’s revocation would have been revisited by the board.

Mr. French, who is 59, has not committed a new felony in 35 years. While at work in 2020, he was charged with theft because he was sitting in a truck near a trailer filled with stolen scaffolding. A Montgomery County District Court Judge quickly dismissed the charges for lack of probable cause and ordered him released. However, his parole had already been revoked and he was transported back to prison. For more on the frustrating chain of events that have left Mr. French languishing in prison as he nears age 60, please read our report, Taking a Life: With life sentences, the State of Alabama controls thousands of rehabilitated individuals long past the point of danger, until death. But why? 

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

William Thomas was found hanging inside his segregation cell at St. Clair Correctional Facility on Aug. 7, 2023. Although he lived, he’s still fighting to get his life back from the severe brain injury that has robbed him of his speech and mobility. 

Though William eventually was released from the hospital through a medical furlough and returned to his parents’ Huntsville home, he needs constant care and is unable to stand or fully communicate. His condition has thrust the Thomases into an ever-expanding community of families across Alabama with loved ones who emerged from state prison custody in previously unimaginable conditions: debilitating injuries, post-traumatic stress disorder, even coma. 

It was another incarcerated person, not prison staff, who called Tanisha Thomas, William’s mother, and told her that her son had been found hanging from a light fixture in his cell. He had requested to be placed in a segregation cell to be safe from the physical abuse he was suffering, and to get away from the drug addictions fueled by the narcotics inside the prison, his mother said. The family believes that his hanging was either the result of hallucinations he may have been experiencing due to drug withdrawals or someone else may have tried to kill him. 

William Thomas before incarceration

At the time, the family drove to UAB Hospital in Birmingham and eventually was able to visit with William, who had been placed in a medically-induced coma. He was hooked to a ventilator. The family received very little information about her son from hospital staff, who were limited in what they could say by prison officials, she said. 

“Palliative care came out to me a few days later and tried to convince me to just make him comfortable, that he’s not going to be the same person. It’s not going to be a good ending. Don’t let him suffer,  and all that, and my religious belief is the complete opposite,” Mrs. Thomas said. “I’m not the giver, nor the taker, of life, so I wasn’t going to make that decision.” 

As her son began to improve, he was eventually taken off of the ventilator and breathing on his own.  “He opened his eyes on command. I told him, ‘Son, if you hear me, let me know you hear me. Just open your eyes.’ He opened his eyes,” she said. 

Tanisha Thomas comforts her son, William Thomas, who suffered severe injuries after being found hanging in his cell at St. Clair prison.

About a month after his injury, the family got a call at their Huntsville home from the hospital asking what they wanted done with his belongings. It was a confusing call, then they learned William was being sent back to the prison system where he nearly died. “Unbelievable. It was unbelievable,” Mrs. Thomas said.

His condition deteriorated once back in St. Clair prison’s infirmary. They’d visit him every Saturday that visitations were held. “Every time we saw him, he was getting worse and worse. His arms were contracting. He started losing his fingernails. He was losing his hair. He wasn’t even 100 pounds,” Mrs. Thomas said. 

A social worker with YesCare, the medical provider under contract with the Alabama Department of Corrections, began the process of getting William released on a medical furlough, but that process was dragging. A correctional officer who knew someone connected to the nonprofit Redemption Earned suggested William might be a good candidate for release, and Redemption Earned reached out and took him on as a client. He was paroled in April 2024 and was sent to a Birmingham nursing home in May of that year. 

William Thomas with his father and his son. Multiple generations of the Thomas family provide support to William.

William just recently began receiving Medicaid, which only pays for some medical costs incurred up to three months prior, so Mrs. Thomas is still dealing with his medical bills, and because she has to care for him day and night, she’s unable to work. Her retired husband went back to work but has only been able to find a part-time job. It’s been difficult getting her son the kind of therapy she hopes will help him get more of his life back. 

The TIRR Memorial Hermann Hospital in Houston, Texas specializes in providing therapy for patients with catastrophic brain and spinal cord injuries. The family is raising funds to get him flown to the Texas hospital. 

“We know he won’t be the same, but we hope he gets a better quality of life,” Mrs. Thomas said. He is improving since he’s been home, she said. The two have worked out a way to communicate, and he’s able to move his arms and legs on command. 

“I try to ask him yes and no questions. So we’ve developed a process of where he blinks several times for yes and he doesn’t blink at all, or maybe once, for no. I’m a drill sergeant, and I told him, you know, I’m not gonna give up. We’re gonna keep going. We’re gonna keep going,” Mrs. Thomas said. She had advice for others who have loved ones inside an Alabama prison. 

“If they have a loved one in the prison system, no matter what their demons are, do not abandon them. I know most of the time the demons are drugs, and there is a major expense with that,” Mrs. Thomas said. “But don’t abandon them. They need a voice. They need an advocate to fight for them.”

William Thomas, pictured during healthier times, with his father and son.

William was incarcerated after a 2019 parole violation. His original conviction was for first degree-robbery in 2013, for which he was sentenced to 15 years. He would have been eligible for parole consideration in June 2025, a year and nine months after he was found in his cell. 

There were times while her son was incarcerated that she’d call the prison seeking a welfare check on William, only to later learn the officers who did the check mistreated him for having to conduct the check, she said. Today, the struggle for her is to try and care for him as best she can. Once a gifted athlete who played football and baseball, he’s now fighting to regain basic functions. “I just wake up every day and I know my son needs me. I’m learning how to do all of this feeding tubes and catheter cleaning. I’m learning how to provide medication. Love is driving me,” she said. 

James Jones, who was once condemned to die in an Alabama prison, took the stage at the Woodlawn Theatre and sang a love song in front of a crowd of mostly strangers last Thursday night. 

It was Appleseed’s annual Celebrate Justice event, which brought together 200 Alabamians committed to Appleseed’s mission and eager to connect with like-minded people in our community. 

James Jones performs alongside Ritch Henderson and Kathleen Henderson. Mr. Jones spent 43 years in prison following a robbery conviction in which no one was injured. Appleseed secured his release in December 2024.

Months ago, once we realized that James’ dream of recording music was becoming a reality, we hatched an idea that he could perform at Celebrate Justice. We were so confident, we sent invitations to supporters announcing the plan. But Mr. Jones, who is 78, is not just recovering from 43 years in prison, he’s fighting cancer and undergoing regular chemotherapy treatments that sap his energy. So we hedged our bets and noted in the promotional materials that “with a little luck,” Mr. Jones would be joining our musicians on stage.

James Jones singing lyrics he composed while incarcerated on a life without parole sentence

Thankfully, two committed people held fast to Mr. Jones’ dream, guided him through the artful process of putting his lyrics to music, and surrounded him with support – Appleseed case manager Kathleen Henderson, and her son, Americana artist Ritch Henderson. For months they practiced, meeting up in Ritch’s favorite spots in and around the Bankhead National Forest and at collaborator Brett Robinson’s, Alabama Sound Company in Montgomery. They all believed in Mr. Jones. After all, his nickname is Honkytonk.

For his song, Ritch took the lead, Kathleen sang harmony, and Mr. Jones’ joined in for the chorus.

We made a promise, till death do us part

You signed with your love and I signed with my heart,

Together, forever I thought we’d always be.

Tonight you’re in Texas and I’m in Tennessee.

Grief like a mountain, and unchanging wind.

I’ll come to Austin, and we’ll try again.

Love is a garden you simply must tend.

I’ll do anything to hold you just once more my friend.

Imagine writing these lines while trapped in prison, with no reasonable hope of ever being free. And yet, people who are thrown away in prison for sentences of life without parole manage to do all manner of hopeful things: join book clubs, learn useful trades, mentor others, create art and poetry. Appleseed has been fortunate to come to know dozens of individuals once thrown away in prison, and through our legal work and reentry support they are now free and living meaningful lives.

We believe they are worthy of celebration. Based on the response last Thursday night, plenty of our neighbors do as well. 

Appleseed clients, all who were once condemned to die in prison, joined our team at Celebrate Justice.

Headliner Alvin Youngblood Hart, a Grammy-winning artist, performed for the packed Woodlawn Theatre.

The generosity of Celebrate Justice supporters and sponsors ensures that Team Appleseed will continue to represent incarcerated people with extreme sentences who deserve another chance, and to provide them with the support they need once released. We are grateful for a community that believes in our work and never fails to fill the room at our events. 

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

Anniston, AL — There are days when I have to step away from the work as my phone rings with another desperate voice, a mother crying over a son who’s been killed or overdosed inside an Alabama prison, a sister pleading for help to save a brother being threatened.

Wesley Abernathy and his daughter, Paizlee Abernathy. Eddie wrote about his death in ADOC custody last year.

I’ve spent five years taking those calls from people inside our overpopulated, understaffed, and chaotic prisons and their loved ones both as a print journalist and now as a researcher for Alabama Appleseed Center for Law & Justice, a prison reform nonprofit. I’ve met dozens of those mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters in person. I’ve seen and heard how lives are upended when our state fails to protect incarcerated people from sexual and physical violence, as all states are constitutionally bound to do.

I wish I could say that the violence and desperation I saw in the HBO documentary “The Alabama Solution” shocked me. However, the storylines in the film play out every day inside the prisons I know too well. Rehabilitation exists in Alabama Department of Corrections policy, not much in practice. Inside the unair-conditioned dorms packed with people, too many are just as likely to die inside as they are to serve the remainder of their sentences. 

One tragic death at the hands of an Alabama Department of Corrections officer, highlighted in the film, reminded me of the death of 44-year-old Christopher Mount. Mr. Mount was beaten and strangled to death while locked inside a segregation cell with another man at Easterling Correctional Facility on Mother’s Day 2023. Easterling is where the film begins. Both men in these segregation cells were beaten so badly family members could hardly recognize their loved ones.

I watched as Mr. Mount’s daughter, 17-years old at the time, stood before Alabama’s Legislative Joint Prison Oversight Committee and described when she saw her father after he died. She brought her father’s ashes in an urn, but security wouldn’t let her bring the urn to the podium when she spoke: “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,” MaKayla Mount told lawmakers.

MaKayla Mount holds an urn containing her father Christopher Mount’s ashes at the Prison Oversight Committee’s 2023 public hearing.

The man who killed Mr. Mount is believed to have taken his own life 20 days later, yet another preventable death tacked onto the growing list. 

“My daughter has nightmares and wakes up screaming and crying because all she sees is her dad being beaten and strangled and screaming for help,” Christy Martin, MaKayla’s mother, told me in September 2023.

I tell these tragic stories in hopes that the public sees what I see: a prison system unable to keep people safe and alive. Without the public pushing for change, there’s little hope the state’s decision-makers will choose to confront the corruption and disregard for human life currently running rampant throughout the state’s prison system. Without pressure, change is unlikely to come.

I work almost daily with families trying to protect loved ones inside Alabama prisons who are being threatened with violence. For months, I’ve spoken with a mother whose son was badly beaten and hospitalized for weeks with severe head injuries. He now finds himself in a different prison, sleeping on the floor because he doesn’t know which bunk is his and no officers will help him. Homelessness in Alabama prisons isn’t uncommon. There are images and videos taken on contraband cellphones of men curled up and sleeping on concrete floors.

Alonzo Williamson and his mother, Carol Williamson. He died in 2024 at Limestone prison and Eddie documented their story.

When an incarcerated man obtained a loaded semi-automatic pistol inside William E. Donaldson Correctional Facility on the morning of Sunday, Aug. 13 2023, I tracked the incident in real time through sources I’d developed in the prison, who reached out via social media and by phone to tell me what they were seeing. Within a few hours Derrol Shaw took complete control of the prison, and in videos taken on contraband cell phones could be seen brandishing the gun while wearing an ADOC officer’s vest. He’d held several officers at gunpoint throughout the ordeal. Ultimately, it was other incarcerated men who talked Shaw down and placed the gun outside for officers on the other side of the fences to retrieve. Lives could have been lost that day, and yet ADOC to this day hasn’t confirmed that there was a gun inside the prison that day. Appleseed was the first to report details of the incident. 

Donaldson Correctional Facility in Bessemer, Alabama

I’m also building a database of prison deaths from the last 10 years, and through hundreds of records requests, a picture is forming. The picture shows uncontrolled violence, rampant drug use (most often brought into prisons and sold by staff), suicides and medical neglect.

“Deceased found unresponsive in dorm. Narcan was administered. Track marks noticed on right arm. Cause of death: Combined fentanyl, methamphetamine, and synthetic cannabinoid (MDMB-4en-PINACA),” read the details of 35-year-old Alex Justin Williams’s death on March 2, 2023, at Ventress Correctional Facility. Court records show a history of drug use. Instead of receiving treatment in prison, Williams was given easy access to the deadly drugs that took his life.

Recently, a veteran lieutenant at St. Clair prison, Calvin Bush, was arrested and charged with trafficking fentanyl and marijuana. ADOC said a search of his home turned up 100 grams of crack cocaine, 19 pounds of marijuana, 8.9 pounds of methamphetamine, and 156 cellphones. His arrest came in July, the day after 36-year-old Quarell Henry and 37-year-old Rakeivian Deet died of suspected drug overdoses at the prison where Bush was a supervising officer.

In 2023, Alabama’s overall prison mortality rate was five times the national rate across state prisons. That year, 328 people died while incarcerated in the state, a record high. Looking closer at the causes of death, the overdose death rate that year was 22 times the national rate. Of the at least 100 overdose deaths in 2023, records Appleseed obtained show that fentanyl was involved in 58.Alabama’s prison homicide rate in 2023 was 4.25 times the national rate. The suicide rate was twice the national rate, with 15 people taking their own lives.

Researcher Eddie Burkhalter, in a happier moment, joining Ronald McKeithen in picking up a newly released John Coleman from prison.

Drugs and violence are frequent threats in other prison systems, but elsewhere elected officials are held accountable and take these problems seriously. Here, we pay private lawyers to defend the state’s inaction.

I have spent countless hours making records requests and gathering documents from various state and federal agencies. Even more hours entering those names and the data of the 2023 dead into my spreadsheet. When I got to May 14, I paused and thought of MaKayla Mount, standing in front of that room full of lawmakers and attendees, and in an unwavering voice, telling the story of her father’s brutal death and what it did to her.

I recently caught up with Makayla, who is attending Jefferson State Community College on a scholarship while working full time. She earned a place on the dean’s and president’s lists for both semesters of her first year and this year was one of 40 selected among the 320 applicants to the highly competitive diagnostic imaging program at Wallace State Community College. She’s also determined to continue to help change the system that killed her father. 

“My father’s death changed me entirely as a person. What began as a pursuit of justice for him has evolved into a broader mission to seek justice and reform for those who are still living within the Alabama Department of Corrections,” Ms. Mount said. 

Speaking before the legislative committee was deeply personal to her. It was an opportunity to honor her father’s memory by giving a voice to those who are rarely heard. 

“No one should have to live in constant fear or be denied medical care until they are at death’s door,” she said. “Everyone deserves a real shot at redemption and a fair chance to give back to the world in a positive way. A system that supports growth and rehabilitation doesn’t just help the individual. It strengthens families, communities, and society as a whole. This is why prison reform is so important to me. It’s not just about policy. It’s about humanity.” 

Christopher Mount was the 119th person to die in an Alabama prison in 2023. There would be 209 more deaths that year. The next year, 277 more incarcerated lives would be lost. From January 1 through the end of June this year, at least 100 people died in Alabama prisons.

Eddie Richmond was found unresponsive on December 15, 2022 in his bed and died there at Fountain Correctional Facility.

Daniel Terry Williams, 22, was likely smothered to death on November 7, 2022 inside Staton. Eddie’s reporting revealed no charges will be filed.

Eddie has done extensive reporting on the death of Brian Rigsby and the activism of his mother, Pam Moser.