By Carla Crowder, Appleseed Executive Director

FLORENCE Ala., — When I lived in Florence in the 1980s and 1990s, I was pretty average, at best. 

There was one thing I did well. I shot free throws, and for three years in a row I represented the City of Florence in the national finals of the Elks Club free throw shooting competition in Indianapolis. My youth was otherwise fairly unremarkable to the point where I didn’t even have a date to senior prom. I spent that night working the drive-thru window at Wendy’s.

Ronald McKeithen at the Walk of Honor

I also made more than my share of mistakes, mostly just misdemeanors, as a kid. But Florence always treated me with compassion and mercy and I was not defined by my mediocrity or mistakes. None of us should be. 

Enjoying the Walk of Honor Ceremony with my biggest advocate, my husband Bernard Troncale

And that’s the reason that being chosen for the Walk of Honor is especially meaningful. I’m being honored as an advocate for criminal justice reform, as someone who has made a difference by representing incarcerated people and challenging the systems that unnecessarily condemn thousands of Alabamians to prison, often for mistakes made as very young people. Our team at Alabama Appleseed reaches into Alabama’s wretched prisons and finds pathways to freedom for people who would otherwise die there. 

And Florence, Alabama, specifically the 11-member Walk of Honor Selection Committee, decided this was valuable work that deserves recognition. I am beyond grateful to my hometown for this honor.

I also know I was honored for the accomplishments and dedication of our entire team at Alabama Appleseed. We are a small nonprofit and each one of us contributes mightily to our mission, whether through legal and reentry work, policy advocacy, research and writing, or building coalitions for change.

The other honorees at the September 26 ceremony were literal rock stars, Jason Isbell and Spooner Oldham, and an unsung hero in journalism, Louis Eckl, a longtime editor of the Times Daily who took enormous risks to advocate for desegregation and civil rights in the 1950s and 1960s.

Members of Appleseed’s staff joined the Walk of Honor festivities in Florence and got to meet fellow honoree Jason Isbell

This has not been an easy year for me. In June, my father passed away. John Crowder was a true Florence character, an activist and environmentalist, who spent 45 years in the Shoals and touched so many lives with his eager conversation, curiosity, and helpfulness. Not every Southern girl of my era had a father who encouraged her to question politicians who misused their power and stand up for the vulnerable. I am eternally grateful that my father did. He sure did.   

The Walk of Honor recognizes Florence and Lauderdale County residents who have had a national or international impact. Currently 70 people are honored, ranging from music legend W.C. Handy to champion golfer Stewart Cink.

I’ll close with my quote from the City’s press release:

“I don’t come from wealth, or privilege, or the Ivy League, and yet, I lead an organization that’s making a difference for marginalized and vulnerable people in Alabama. So, anybody can do that.”

My name is Nicholas Thoma and I’m thrilled to be working with Alabama Appleseed this fall as a legal extern. I’m originally from Pennsylvania but have called Alabama home for the last five years since I came to the University of Alabama for my undergraduate studies. I am currently a 2L at the University of Alabama School of Law and planning to become a public defender upon my graduation.

My passion for public interest is fueled by my experience in Alabama. Growing up I was ignorant of many of the inherent challenges our legal system imposes on disadvantaged groups. During my freshman year of college I read “The Sun Does Shine”, Anthony Ray Hinton’s autobiography which described his wrongful incarceration on Alabama’s death row; a partial result of his inability to afford adequate representation. This was the turning point that made me realize I wanted to become a public defender and help keep people from ever facing a similar situation.

Once I entered law school I began to realize that wrongful incarcerations were just one small part of an overarching inequality within our criminal justice system. There are numerous issues with sentencing, prison conditions, work programs; the list goes on and on. These problems aren’t going to change unless people advocate for people who have been incarcerated. Too often society looks down upon these people and judges them for their worst day. We need zealous advocates at every step of the criminal justice system, both before and after incarceration.

I could not be more proud to be working with Alabama Appleseed this fall. It is rare to find an organization that advocates so zealously for their clients, especially when those clients are people who have been incarcerated. I am so grateful for the opportunity to contribute to this advocacy this fall and through any chances I have in the future.

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

The family of a 25-year-old man with just over a year left to serve on nonviolent property crimes believes he may have died from a severe asthma attack alone in a segregation cell at St. Clair prison, but because the Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC) no longer provides full autopsies for all who die in prison, they may never know his cause of death.

Marlon Marshall, 25, was found deceased in a segregation cell sometime after 2 a.m. on Aug. 22, according to ADOC and his family, who spoke with an investigator from the department’s Law Enforcement Services Division (LESD).

Marlon Marshall, a 25-year-old man with severe asthma, died in a segregation cell at St. Clair prison.

Mr. Marshall’s death in a segregation cell, a place where people are often placed to keep them safe, is but another sign of the increasing chaos inside St. Clair prison in recent months. Multiple sources told Appleseed that a man was stabbed there by another incarcerated man on Aug. 21, but the man survived.

Two men died of suspected drug overdoses at St. Clair on July 30. The next day, ADOC Lieutenant Calvin Bush was arrested and charged with trafficking fentanyl and marijuana, and promoting prison contraband. Investigators found a large amount of drugs and contraband at a home in Odenville, where Bush lives, according to court records.

“During the search, agents recovered a significant amount of drugs and contraband, including 4,020 grams of methamphetamine, 350 grams of promethazine liquid, 340 grams of synthetic cannabinoid, nine oxycodone pills, 326 grams of sprayed paper, 156 cell phones, two cellular hotspots, 8,980 grams of marijuana, 100 grams of crack cocaine, 16 grams of cocaine powder, and 610 grams of flakka precursor powder. Additionally, a related search yielded 2.5 pounds of marijuana and 60 grams of methamphetamine,” ADOC told Appleseed in a statement.

On Aug. 12, two guns were reportedly found in St. Clair prison, multiple sources told Appleseed. However, ADOC declined to confirm when asked on Aug. 13.

“On Monday, Aug. 11, 2025, the Alabama Department of Corrections conducted a security search detail at St. Clair Correctional Facility with support from the K-9 Division and the Correctional Emergency Response Team. The search resulted in the confiscation of various contraband. The search results and any subsequent investigation are ongoing,” an ADOC spokeswoman responded.

Asked again whether ADOC would confirm the discovery of two guns in the prison — noting that such a discovery would eventually appear in ADOC’s quarterly reports, and recalling that in August 2023 an incarcerated man armed with a pistol took control of Donaldson prison, a fact ADOC initially refused to acknowledge despite video evidence — the spokeswoman again declined.

“The ADOC cannot elaborate or comment about ongoing law enforcement investigations. People forget that ADOC is a law enforcement agency and details regarding investigations could compromise those investigations. Once the statistical reports are posted to the website, that is no longer the case,” she wrote.

Discovered unresponsive

“He was a very caring individual,” Marlon Marshall’s mother, Marcia Gant, told Appleseed. Mr. Marshall loved music and photography. He had been bullied in public school, later attended an alternative school, and before his arrest had been working toward his GED. Her son suffered from severe asthma.

Ms. Gant learned of her son’s death not from the prison, but from her sister, who called after seeing the news posted on Facebook.

Mr. Marshall had suffered from severe asthma since childhood, said his mother and uncle, Admire Gant, a Mobile County Sheriff’s deputy. Mr. Gant added that an investigator with ADOC’s Law Enforcement Services Division told him his nephew’s cell was clean and contained two asthma inhalers.  “When he was in Metro [jail] in the summertime he was sent to the hospital because of his asthma,” Mr. Gant said, referring to his nephew’s time in county jail prior to conviction.

Mr. Gant said that since his nephew’s death, he has spoken with St. Clair’s warden, the LESD investigator overseeing the case, and the Lee County coroner. Based on those conversations, he fears the family may never know the full circumstances of Marshall’s death. A toxicology screening was conducted, however, Mr. Gant said.

Marlon Marshall was serving a sentence for non-violent property crimes.

“Inmate Marlon Marshall was discovered unresponsive in his cell. Life-saving measures were administered but to no avail. Inmate Marshall was pronounced deceased by the attending physician,” ADOC’s response to Appleseed reads. “The Lee County Coroner conducts toxicology tests for all ‘natural’ and ‘suspected overdose’ deaths unless the death occurs in Jefferson County. A copy of the report is part of the LESD death investigation file. The results are shared with family and/or other entities subject to HIPAA, which survives death.”

Mr. Marshall had served nearly two years of a three-year sentence for nonviolent property crimes. In October 2023, he pleaded guilty to two counts of theft by deception and one count of breaking into a motor vehicle. He was sentenced to 20 years, to serve three years in prison, with the remainder on probation, court records show.  Mr. Marshall was allegedly involved in an altercation with another incarcerated man at Ventress Correctional Facility on Jan. 21, 2025, according to court records, and was ordered to spend 45 days in segregation. He was later transferred to St. Clair, a maximum-security prison. The family does not know why he remained in segregation there at the time of his death.

Autopsies for some, not all

UAB Hospital terminated its longstanding agreement with ADOC to conduct autopsies and toxicology screens on suspected natural and overdose deaths on April 22, 2024.

The agreement had ADOC paying $2,200 per autopsy and $100 per toxicology test, according to court documents in a lawsuit. That revenue may not have outweighed the fallout from a lawsuit in which families discovered their incarcerated loved ones’ bodies had been returned missing internal organs. Since UAB terminated its contract, in-custody deaths from natural causes or suspected overdoses are no longer receiving state-provided full autopsies, leaving many families unsure how their loved ones died.

“All inmate deaths are investigated by the ADOC’s Law Enforcement Services Division. However, under existing state law, post-mortem examinations or autopsies are only required for deaths resulting from unlawful, suspicious, or unnatural causes (Ala. Code Section 36-18-2). In those cases, the deceased is transported to the Alabama Department of Forensic Sciences for an autopsy,” ADOC wrote in a statement to Appleseed in May 2024, when Appleseed first reported UAB’s contract termination.

“Deaths not covered under Ala. Code Section 36-18-2 receive a toxicology screen prior to release to the inmate’s family. Although the department previously contracted with UAB Hospital to conduct autopsies on suspected overdose or natural deaths, UAB terminated its long-standing agreement effective April 22, 2024. Since that time, the department has made numerous inquiries but has been unable to find another vendor to provide autopsies for ADOC inmates who died of natural causes or suspected overdoses,” the statement continues.

Asked this week whether ADOC has since secured a vendor to provide autopsies in such cases, a spokesperson sent the same response Appleseed received in May 2024.

Alabama’s Prison Death Database

Alabama Appleseed is building a database of Alabama prison deaths and has completed its first year of data, covering 2023, which shows a record 334 deaths in state prisons. Because of the change in 2024 that impacts who ADOC approves for autopsies, it will be impossible to know for certain how some have died moving forward. 

There were 28 deaths at St. Clair prison in 2023, according to Appleseed’s research derived from records requests to multiple state agencies. Of those, two were homicides, three were suicides, 13 were deemed natural and nine were overdose deaths. 

Statewide, in 2023 there were 14 homicides and 101 overdose deaths in Alabama prisons. Appleseed continues to collect death data for 2024 and 2025.

 

As legislative budget hearings take place this week in Montgomery, it’s a good time to review the recent costs to Alabama taxpayers for our prison system, which consumes 25% of the state’s General Fund budget. 

An Appleseed analysis has found that state prison expenses over five years are $5 billion. That’s right, if you include the annual General Fund allocations to the Alabama Department of Corrections, plus the costs of new prison construction including debt service, the people of Alabama will have handed over approximately $1 billion per year to ADOC in fiscal years 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025, and 2026.

Here’s the full breakdown based on publicly available spreadsheets from the Executive Budget Office:

  • $610.7 million from the General Fund in FY2022
  • $663.6 million from the General Fund in FY2023
  • $733.7 million from the General Fund in FY2024
  • $780.6 million from the General Fund in FY2025
  • $826.7 million from the General Fund in FY2026 (which starts in October)
  • $1.3 billion authorized for prison construction during 2021 special session on prisons, currently being used to build the Gov. Kay Ivey megaprison in Elmore County, which is expected to cost $1.2 billion.
  • $85 million from the General Fund in FY25 and FY26 for debt service on prison construction bonds issued to build the 4000-bed prison in Elmore County.

By way of comparison, each bed in the Governor Kay Ivey megaprison, comes at a cost of $300,000, significantly more than the average price of a home in Alabama, which was $235,066 as of July of 2025.

This $5 billion tally does not include at least $57 million paid out of the state’s General Liability Trust Fund in recent years on ADOC legal expenses, primarily private contract attorneys to defend officers accused of misconduct and to defend the ADOC in federal class action litigation over unconstitutional prison conditions. 

ADOC is the second highest General Fund expense in the State. Medicaid is the highest. Medicaid provides healthcare to approximately one million Alabamians at a similar cost to the state for incarceration of approximately 22,000 individuals in custody, plus another 4,300 in Community Corrections.

Last session, lawmakers passed a bill to add another $500 million to the state’s bonding capacity to pay for more prison space, a second planned megaprison in Escambia County.

Appleseed believes Alabamians deserve to know the significant costs to our state of consistently having one of the country’s highest incarceration rates. Alabama is a poor state when compared to numerous other states with large prison populations; prioritizing expensive prisons swallows resources that could be invested in crime prevention and overall wellbeing, such as mental health care, substance use treatment and prevention of child abuse and neglect. Nearly 25% of the entire General Fund pays for prisons, and these funds do not include construction of new prisons. Critical agencies for prevention and wellbeing combined receive 19% percent of the General Fund. Here’s a breakdown:

Also concerning, as ADOC spending has soared over the last 20 years, funding for the Department of Human Resources, the Department of Mental Health and the Department of Public Health has increased at a slower pace, and currently these agencies receive a smaller portion of General Fund dollars than in years past, our analysis found. DHR has been hit the hardest. In 2003, the agency’s allocation was $73 million, or 7.3% of the General Fund. For the current fiscal year, DHR received $146 million, a higher dollar amount but only 4.5% of the General Fund. 

Additionally troubling is that there’s little to show for this spending spree. In 2023, the prisons had the highest number of deaths in its history, 335. Of those 14 were homicides, and 101 were drug overdoses. Last year was slightly better at 274, but still one of the highest death rates in the nation. Officer recruitment appears to be on the rise following large salary increases, but the Department loses officers regularly, many because of criminal charges.

With the complex in Elmore County consuming nearly $1.2 billion, it’s unknown where funding for the second prison in Escambia County will come from or even how much it will cost. “It’s going to be a lot more than we originally thought,” Sen. Greg Albritton, the Senate General Fund committee chair has acknowledged. He sponsored a bill in the 2025 legislative session that added another $500 million to the state’s bonding capacity to pay for more prison space.

 

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

Alabama’s prison system is in crisis. Federal courts have said so. Back-to-back years of record prison deaths show it. The people who live and work inside those facilities feel it every day.

Violence, understaffing, and overcrowded dorms are pushing the system past a breaking point, and while new prison construction continues, that alone won’t fix the deeper problems. Alabama needs answers that go beyond bricks and mortar—answers rooted in what’s actually working in other parts of the country.

This briefing lays out five real-world examples of prison reforms from other states. They’re not theories. These are programs already in place that are reducing violence, cutting recidivism and helping staff do their jobs more safely and effectively.

Take California’s GRIP program, where men serving long sentences learn how to manage anger and take responsibility for past harm. Graduates almost never come back to prison. In South Carolina, a pilot program for young adults has cut the use of solitary confinement and assaults on staff. Missouri, Maine and Oregon are trying models that focus on rehabilitation and basic human dignity—with results that speak for themselves.

These aren’t soft-on-crime experiments. They’re serious efforts, backed by data, that reflect a growing national understanding: safer prisons aren’t just better for those inside. They’re better for public safety, for communities and for the people who go to work behind the fences every day.

Alabama has the opportunity to lead among Southern states in implementing bold, results-oriented reform. The following case studies offer a roadmap for change—one that can enhance safety, reduce legal liabilities, support staff retention, and, most importantly, provide incarcerated individuals with the tools to return home prepared to contribute to their communities.

Read Appleseed’s latest report to learn more. We will be sharing this roadmap with lawmakers, ADOC officials, families of incarcerated Alabamians, and advocates across the state as evidence that transformative change in possible even in prison. And as the report shows, the most powerful change is being driven by incarcerated people themselves.

Positive Programs report

By MaKenzie Smith

My name is Makenzie Smith, and I am excited to be spending this summer as a policy intern with Alabama Appleseed and Alabama Arise. I’m from Moundville, Alabama, and have grown up in the Tuscaloosa County area. I recently graduated from The University of Alabama with a degree in Political Science and a minor in Global and Cultural Perspectives. I’m currently pursuing my Master of Public Administration at The University of Alabama and will complete my final semester this fall, having entered the program as an accelerated master’s student.

MaKenzie is a master’s student at University of Alabama.

As a Black woman raised in Alabama, I have long been familiar with the realities of both interpersonal and systemic racism. That familiarity left me with a deep sense that I could not remain passive. This, paired with the influence of my mother, a social worker who emphasized the importance of civic engagement and advocacy, led me to aspire to a future career focused on confronting systemic racism.

During my sophomore year, I attended a forum hosted by Tide Against Time, a campus organization dedicated to informing students about mass incarceration and the prison industrial complex, titled “Conditions of Prisons in the U.S. & Alabama.” Lee Davis and Ron McKeithen, representatives of Alabama Appleseed, came to discuss the harsh reality of Alabama’s prison conditions, their personal experiences, and Alabama Appleseed’s work to fight for incarcerated individuals who have fallen victim to the mass incarceration complex and Alabama’s overly punitive outlook on prison which often under prioritizes rehabilitation. Attending this talk was my first exposure to Alabama Appleseed, and I immediately admired the organization’s commitment to advancing justice through advocacy, policy reform, and legal representation. I was especially inspired by the way the organization, and the dedicated individuals who work there, build meaningful relationships with people who have been unjustly overlooked by the system. This admiration led me to pursue an internship with the organization so I could learn how to contribute to positive change in Alabama’s prison system in the same meaningful ways they do.

Through my participation in the Blackburn Institute, a civic engagement and leadership development program at my university, I developed a deeper understanding of the importance of not speaking for communities, but instead listening to understand their needs and working to amplify their voices. This perspective shapes my passion for prison reform, particularly the ambition to uplift the voices of one of the most disenfranchised populations in the United States. Upon graduating with my Master of Public Administration, I plan to attend law school with the goal of becoming a civil rights lawyer. I am thankful to Alabama Appleseed for the opportunity to observe their work up close, receive generous and wise support and guidance, and begin developing the skills needed to contribute meaningfully to justice and reform in my home state.

By Wyatt Williams, Appleseed Intern

My name is Wyatt Williams, and I am excited about joining the Appleseed team this upcoming summer! Born and raised in Birmingham, I graduated from Vestavia Hills High School, and I now attend the University of Georgia, where I am a rising sophomore majoring in Political Science and Economics. I will forever be proud to call Alabama home, and I look forward to returning to my roots this summer to serve the community I so love.

Wyatt visits with client Lee Davis and his energetic companion.

A student of history, I hope to learn how the mistakes of the past led to the injustices that plague the present and what current decisions still trap so many in a vicious cycle. Alabama is a state of proud people who desire a brighter future, and efforts to correct past errors are essential and promising.

Above all, I am motivated by Jesus Christ’s command to serve “the least of these.” So often stigmatized and neglected by society, the voices of the incarcerated are rarely heard and listened to. Working specifically with Appleseed’s reentry program, I am excited about the opportunity to form connections with the people most affected by our system but have been given a second chance at life.

Wanting to build a life centered around service, I am grateful to experience service on both a large and small scale. From working directly with individuals affected by the criminal justice system and by working to reform it, I am inspired by this balanced work and the multitude of ways to serve. I know the stories heard and the knowledge gained will help me learn if criminal justice is the path for me. I am humbled to be a part of such a team and look forward to helping build a better future for all Alabamians.

My name is James Stephens, and I’m excited to intern at Alabama Appleseed this summer! I was born and raised here in Birmingham and will start my sophomore year at New York University this fall. Right now, my plan is to major in history and hopefully attend law school after I graduate.
Growing up in Alabama, my interest in history made me keenly aware of this state’s legacy of injustice. Studying the systems of slavery, Jim Crow, and Convict Lease led my curiosity to mass incarceration and its modern injustices. In my first semester at NYU, I took a class called The Making of Mass Incarceration in America. There, I learned about the exponential rise in the prison population, the criminalization of poverty, and how our modern justice system creates a second class of citizens. This country holds almost a quarter of all the prisoners on Earth, and the most dysfunctional version of this system happens to be in my home state. The more I learn about the issues fellow Alabamians face in our courts and prisons, the greater my conviction that mass incarceration is one of the state’s biggest problems. With this education and love for Alabama, I am driven to help fix these issues however I can.
I am thankful to Appleseed for allowing me the opportunity to fulfill this effort. Here I am surrounded by inspiring Alabamians with a shared dedication to justice. This organization saves lives, fights the good fight, and builds hope for a better Alabama. I look forward to an educational and exciting summer!

With help from friends, Appleseed’s Callie Greer is capturing the pain of families who have lost loved ones to violence and creating something beautiful. Join her quilting event on July 19 in Birmingham. Details below. 

By Callie Greer

Appleseed Community Navigator

I’d thought about making a memorial quilt for our loved ones for a while, but I’ve never made a quilt. So, from time to time, I would mention wanting to make a quilt, but there were no takers. Maybe I was dropping my hints around the wrong people. People thought it was a great idea, but I never got any suggestions on where, or how, to start the quilt. 

 

But the more I listened to the stories from mothers like Ms. Barbara Maxwell, who shared with me in one of our conversations about her grieving process, I knew this was something that needed to be done. When we spoke she told me that sometimes she would be crying and had to stop in the middle of her grieving to ask herself which one of her sons she was crying for! You see, Barbara lost two sons within five months of each other–  she’s still seeking answers and justice for both of them. I thought about the quilt listening to Ms. Brenda Page Smith, who also lost her son to gun violence. She started the search for him herself with some help from others and found her son lying in a ditch– she’s also still seeking answers and justice for her son. And of course, I thought of myself and my children that I will always carry in a wound in my heart. With our need for a way to continue healing, the quilt never left my thoughts. 

Then a friend of mine, Dana Ellis, made me and my husband a lovely quilt. Believe it or not, I didn’t connect those two things together, at least not for a while. You see, I wanted my quilt to have the faces of our loved ones who were lost to violence sewn into it, and I wanted it to be a symbol and a dedication of our undying love to them, even though they are not with us physically anymore. I felt like it would be an embrace that only we knew why we needed it. 

Because when I think of a quilt, I think of comfort, warmth, a place of healing when something ails you. You know, the kind of calming only your momma or grandmama can give you when you need to hear, “Everything’s going to be alright, maybe not right now, but in time.” Underneath the quilt you’re safe. Safe to groan, moan, cry, be still, and heal. Covered, safe, quiet, restored, peaceful, and yes, loved. I know that’s a lot, but you can choose whatever you need from it and leave the rest for others. And there are so many others. This quilt will hopefully be all those things and also a gathering place as we come together to sew together the faces that were torn away from us too soon, always too soon. 

And what else will we do with this quilt? We’ll rally for life and the end of so much gun violence. We’ll rally for safe spaces for our families, counseling for those directly affected by the traumas that come with the violence and the loss. 

I offer you the same voice I did before: take whatever speaks to your passion and join the fight.  Don’t waste your pain! Use it to create something terribly beautiful, like this quilt. Thank you Dana Ellis for catching one of my many hints and running with it. Our MAAVIS Memorial Quilt is a reality. Thank you, Alabama Appleseed and Crime Survivors for Safety and Justice for your initial support. And thank you everyone who has since joined.

We’ll be hosting our next event to add to the quilt on July 19, 2025 at Greater Birmingham Ministries, 2304 12th Avenue North in Birmingham from 1 pm- 4 pm. Space will be limited. You can reach out to me at callie.greer@alabamaappleseed.org.

By Eddie Burkhalter, Appleseed Researcher

Alabama taxpayers since 2020 spent $57 million for the state to defend lawsuits against prison officers and against class-action cases against the Alabama Department of Corrections (ADOC), investigative journalist Beth Shelburne reported for Alabama Reflector on Monday, the first in a four-part series that highlights the unconstitutional treatment of incarcerated people in Alabama. 

Meanwhile, attorneys representing the former ADOC commissioner in a lawsuit may have used artificial intelligence in a legal filing, which allegedly contained citations for fictitious cases, prompting the federal judge in that case last week to order those attorneys to appear in court Wednesday to answer those allegations. 

United States District Court Judge Anna M. Manasco in her order wrote that the plaintiff in the case “describes at length the bases for his belief that counsel for Defendant Dunn fabricated citations. In the light of the seriousness of the accusation, the court has conducted independent searches for each allegedly fabricated citation, to no avail.” 

The order pertains to legal work done by the Butler Snow law firm, among the most highly paid of the many private firms who have been given taxpayer-funded contracts to defend the State and ADOC employees.

Just last week, the Alabama Legislature wrapped up its 2025 session, approving the largest ever budget for ADOC at $940 million. Horrific abuses, corruption, and violence persist in the face of massive state expenditures.

Shelburne’s reporting found a disturbing pattern of excessive force settlements, revealing widespread violence at the hands of corrections officers across the state’s prison system. While comprehensive national data on similar lawsuits in other state prison systems is difficult to obtain, correctional experts say the volume of settlements in Alabama stands out as alarmingly high.

Between 2020 and 2024, Alabama settled 94 lawsuits alleging excessive force by correctional staff. The allegations paint a portrait of systemic brutality. Documented incidents span the entire prison landscape—from the Loxley Community Work Center, which houses low-security inmates working in the community, to Holman Correctional Facility, home to Alabama’s death row.

Shelburne noted, however, that the 94 excessive force complaints that resulted in settlement payments “do not represent the total lawsuits filed against ADOC officers, many of which are dismissed by the courts.”

Nearly half of the lawsuits involved injuries requiring hospitalization, including lacerations needing stitches, broken bones requiring surgery, and traumatic brain injuries, Shelburne’s reporting notes. Court records and medical documentation describe a grim litany of abuse: one man suffered two broken arms in a staff assault; another had ribs and spinal bones fractured; a third was hospitalized with broken limbs. Nineteen lawsuits described head injuries, and at least seven victims were left permanently disfigured or disabled.

Shelburne’s findings emerged from a months-long review of court filings and financial records obtained from the Alabama Department of Finance, detailing payouts from the state’s General Liability Trust Fund. 

Among the lawsuits noted in her reporting was one filed over a 2018 assault at Ventress Correctional Facility.  

“The complaint stated an officer handcuffed the victim behind his back, then struck him from behind, “breaking his jaw in two places, sending a large portion of his jawbone between his teeth and spraying blood all over the wall.” ADOC settled the lawsuit for $90,000, and according to court documents, terminated the officer who assaulted the man,” Shelburne reported. 

Shelburne’s research also found that at least a half dozen lawsuits allege that officers used excessive force on incarcerated men who were “in need of mental health or medical attention, including two filed by men who said they were beaten while having a seizure.”

Alabama Reflector is slated to publish the remaining three parts of the series this week: 

May 20: Even as the prison population has declined, use of force incidents in Alabama’s prisons have soared, and corrections officers involved have not only held onto jobs, but been promoted.

May 21: The anatomy of one inmate’s allegations against a corrections officer, and the aftermath.

May 22: Who’s paying for these settlements? You are. Who’s getting the most money from this litigation? Attorneys defending corrections officers.