A Day on the Row
by Charla Greene
November 1993
There is a sameness to the days on the row in San Quentin, where the men are waiting for the state to kill them. If you get up early, you can go to the yard, where too many men are packed into too small of a wire-fenced cement cubicle. Where a tooth-jarring basketball game is still managed in the crowd, and where the tension of too many condemned people sitting around in one place causes periodic eruptions.
Same men are not interested in the yard, others feel it's too dangerous, so they stay in their 4'xl1' house every day, for years. This does not mean that they just lay around watching the tube in luxury, because the state doesn't provide any of that; only those with family or friends on the outside have anything more than the few items that the state provides. That would be dungarees, a thin, blue, short sleeve shirt, hard brown high-top boots, lye-type soap, toilet paper, and earplugs. No toothpaste, no shampoo, or deoderant, or real soap that can be used on the skin, or a robe and flops to use to go to the shower three times a week- any of the little things that seem almost invisible because they are so taken for granted on the outside. And if there's no one to send things in, and the prisoner does not have any way of earning a living, then he does without. Can you imagine not being able to brush your teeth for years?
We on the outside have so many things that we pick up and discard without a second thought, but to men on the row they're cherished objects. Like gum, definitely not allowed and hard to come by, and yet one of my friends was saying how he got a piece of bubble gum one time and made it last one month by putting toothpaste on it to make it taste. Now, I was not only amazed at his perseverance, I was also struck by the image of these men, supposedly all "hardened criminals" according to the media, sitting around the yard blowing bubbles! They didn't show that group in "American Me", but they're there.
Some of the men have used the time to develop the talents that were hidden by the demands of the street, and luckily, some have found they have an ability to paint, because that's how they make money so they can buy the little necessities like toothpaste. It's expensive to live in San Quentin. As the price of shampoo goes up on the outside, it goes up on the inside, but since the inmates don't have any wages to also increase, sometimes they're just out of luck until the next painting sells- which is not a guaranteed thing, as any artist on the outside knows.
The inmates can also receive one, 30 pound box every three months- that's 30, not 30.1. If it's a breath over the allowed weight, it's sent back, so the sender has to be very careful. These packages are the only chance to get something "extra", and when you don't have anything in the first place, everything is "extra". However, it's not possible to send in toothpaste, shampoo, or paint supplies, those can only be bought in the prison at the prison's prices. In the packages you can send in cookies, and coffee, and socks, but nothing that is wrapped in foil, packaged in styrofoam, glass or metal, or made with fruit. Actually, there is a very specific list of items allowed in, and if it's not on the list, it will probably be returned at the prisoner's expense.
Around this time of year, the packages are like holiday gifts, and I have a friend who is putting together some extra packages for some men who have never received one. She's already sent in one that was to be shared by two men, and has gotten back the two letters of thanks. One letter packs into three paragraphs all the gratitude and surprise that he felt that someone actually treated him with kindness. The other letter was twelve pages of the history of his case and how he has been on death row for ten years for a crime he didn't do, and how this came about by perjured testimony from the prosecution. This is a common reason why innocent people get convicted. One study made an estimate that 25% of the people on death row are innocent. In San Quentin that would mean over ninety innocent men waiting to be killed. A shocking picture of our "justice" system!
This time of year also becomes more down beat for many of the men on the row, kind of the opposite of the joy you see pictured. There are so many who will not have family contact, some because they are from cities thousands of miles away, some because their families have abandoned them. Of course, they probably remember former days when they celebrated the holidays, but now there's little done- a small tree in the visiting room, which can only be seen by the small percentage of men who get visits, and a cold turkey dinner. That's it, and it can't replace the warmth of the family home that is now gone.
Even if an inmate does have family or friends who will spend the special day with them, it's a one-sided arrangement. I've heard them say it's a hard thing not to be able to give something in return. They do what they can. One man crochets afghans and baby blankets to give to friends and to sell to the other inmates who want to send them out as gifts. But cards are the main way of expressing the holiday love, and some wonderful, hand-made ones go out to the families and friends in thanks for their continued support. And the families and friends, who know that these men are still human beings and still deserving of the compassion that is so hyped this time of the year, do their best to ease the time while their loved ones wait for the government to carry out it's premeditated murder.