Post by sixteefoor on Aug 9, 2007 23:23:09 GMT -5
Awaiting death, they're isolated from other inmates
By JACK BRUBAKER, Staff
Lancaster New Era
Published: Aug 08, 2007
LANCASTER COUNTY, Pa -
Freeman May has been isolated on death row for 16 of his 49 years, Orlando Baez for 14 of his 46. For these former Lancaster County men, awaiting death has become a way of life.
So how does that life differ from the way other inmates live in Pennsylvania' s 25 prisons for adult offenders?
First of all, the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections makes it clear that it does not operate a "death row." Pennsylvanians serving death sentences are confined in separate, restricted housing units at state prisons in Greene County and Graterford, Montgomery County.
Restricted housing is for inmates who must be separated from the general prison population, either temporarily because they've broken prison rules, or permanently because they've been sentenced to death and present security risks.
Both groups spend their days and nights in solitary cells.
The 226 security risks, including May, Baez and four other convicts from Lancaster County, may have televisions, radios, books, photos and legal materials in their cells.
"They may have pretty much everything a general-population inmate would have, so long as it doesn't compromise security," says Department of Corrections Press Secretary Susan McNaughton.
Unlike the general population, they have all their meals delivered to their cells by prison guards.
Until five years ago, all restricted-housing inmates were allowed outside their cells one hour a day, five days a week.
Rule-breakers still spend only one hour a day outside, but convicted killers get two hours because they are housed in solitary "simply by virtue of their criminal sentence and not due to any misbehavior in prison," according to McNaughton.
Upon leaving their cells, those serving death sentences are shackled and escorted to individual showers or a small law library, or to visit with their family or an attorney — all within the restricted housing unit.
Chaplains representing various anti-death-penalty groups also regularly visit the restricted housing area.
All visits are non-contact — that is, visitors and prisoners are separated by a see-through partition.
Roderick Frey, Robert Zook and Leroy Stallworth — three former county residents who have been released from death sentences and are serving life without parole within the general prison population — are living very different lives.
They no longer are confined in their cells for 22 hours a day. They have roommates. They take group showers. They eat and exercise together.
Life among the general inmate population is considerably less restrictive, but it is also less secure.
Death-penalty opponents say a big difference between death-row inmates and other prisoners is psychological. Years of isolation and uncertainty as to the time of execution can make inmates suicidal, delusional, even insane, they say.
Asked to comment on that aspect of incarceration, McNaughton says the Department of Corrections carries out all court sentences and takes no position on the death penalty.
"It would be inappropriate for us to comment on the psychological effects any sentence may have on an individual or group of individuals, " she explains.
CONTACT US: jbrubaker@LNPnews. com or 291-8781
By JACK BRUBAKER, Staff
Lancaster New Era
Published: Aug 08, 2007
LANCASTER COUNTY, Pa -
Freeman May has been isolated on death row for 16 of his 49 years, Orlando Baez for 14 of his 46. For these former Lancaster County men, awaiting death has become a way of life.
So how does that life differ from the way other inmates live in Pennsylvania' s 25 prisons for adult offenders?
First of all, the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections makes it clear that it does not operate a "death row." Pennsylvanians serving death sentences are confined in separate, restricted housing units at state prisons in Greene County and Graterford, Montgomery County.
Restricted housing is for inmates who must be separated from the general prison population, either temporarily because they've broken prison rules, or permanently because they've been sentenced to death and present security risks.
Both groups spend their days and nights in solitary cells.
The 226 security risks, including May, Baez and four other convicts from Lancaster County, may have televisions, radios, books, photos and legal materials in their cells.
"They may have pretty much everything a general-population inmate would have, so long as it doesn't compromise security," says Department of Corrections Press Secretary Susan McNaughton.
Unlike the general population, they have all their meals delivered to their cells by prison guards.
Until five years ago, all restricted-housing inmates were allowed outside their cells one hour a day, five days a week.
Rule-breakers still spend only one hour a day outside, but convicted killers get two hours because they are housed in solitary "simply by virtue of their criminal sentence and not due to any misbehavior in prison," according to McNaughton.
Upon leaving their cells, those serving death sentences are shackled and escorted to individual showers or a small law library, or to visit with their family or an attorney — all within the restricted housing unit.
Chaplains representing various anti-death-penalty groups also regularly visit the restricted housing area.
All visits are non-contact — that is, visitors and prisoners are separated by a see-through partition.
Roderick Frey, Robert Zook and Leroy Stallworth — three former county residents who have been released from death sentences and are serving life without parole within the general prison population — are living very different lives.
They no longer are confined in their cells for 22 hours a day. They have roommates. They take group showers. They eat and exercise together.
Life among the general inmate population is considerably less restrictive, but it is also less secure.
Death-penalty opponents say a big difference between death-row inmates and other prisoners is psychological. Years of isolation and uncertainty as to the time of execution can make inmates suicidal, delusional, even insane, they say.
Asked to comment on that aspect of incarceration, McNaughton says the Department of Corrections carries out all court sentences and takes no position on the death penalty.
"It would be inappropriate for us to comment on the psychological effects any sentence may have on an individual or group of individuals, " she explains.
CONTACT US: jbrubaker@LNPnews. com or 291-8781