(Edited) Transcript of an interview for Prison Focus radio show, June 15, 2006, KPOO Radio,
89.5 FM on political prisoner, Hugo Antonio Lyons Pinell (aka Yogi Bear).
Interview with Luis Bato Talmantez, Nedzada Handukic, Kiilu Nyasha, and Gordon Kaupp
June 15th, 2006
Luis Bato
Talamantez: So what we want to do now here at KPOO is introduce our guests in
the studio. We have comrade Nedzada Handukic and Kiilu Nyasha and we have
Gordon Kaupp, an attorney here in San Francisco that is representing the subject
of our show, Hugo Antonio Pinell. And online shortly, we will have Kiilu, all
of whom traveled to Pelican Bay State Prison, which is, I think, 10 miles away
from the Oregon state border, very remote prison, super-maximum prison, to
visit Hugo.
We claim, that he is probably the longest held Nicaraguan citizen
in the world, 42 years. And in the past he was also a codefendant with myself
during the '70s in the so-called San Quentin Six case. But we want to ask
Gordon here, for somebody here in America who has been in prison for 42 years,
I mean, how do you square that with justice? Can you tell us, more about his
case, Gordon?
Gordon
Kaupp: First I want to say good morning and thank you to the KPOO Prison Radio
audience. I also want to say thank you to Bato for having me on the show to
talk about Yogi's case. I have the honor of representing Mr. Pinell, and I had
the honor of meeting him several weeks ago up at Pelican Bay State Prison which
is an extremely cold, dark, foreboding institution in which many lives are
thrown away.
There are legal reasons and social-political reasons for why Yogi
is up there. In the board hearing, we're dealing with the legal reasons which
serve as the mechanism for the social and political reasons that keep him
locked up. Namely, the way that they keep somebody held for such a long and
inhumane period of time is by focusing on the suitability factors in his parole
board hearing. And the suitability factors are mostly factors that remain
unchanging, things that he can do nothing about since the convictions that he
has suffered. So the Board will say, well, we look at the underlying crime and
if it's so callous, if it shows a callous disregard for suffering, we're going
to deny him his hearing. If he's got a prior criminal history, we're going to
deny him his release. If he has an unstable social history, we're going to deny
him his release.
And so, you look at these parole board decisions that the
commissioners issue, year after year or every couple years, however long it is
between your time visiting the Board, they deny prisoners, old lifers, for the
same reasons every single time. And these are unchanging factors.
So,
essentially they convert a sentence of nine to life to a sentence of life
without parole. It's a really big problem here in California.
Bato: Hugo
Pinell will be going to the board very very shortly, as he has been going to
the board for the last 42 years that he has been in prison. We're saying 42
continuous years there's been no parole, there's been no furloughs, it's all
been very, very hard time that Hugo, my comrade, has had to do all these years
in the worst conditions because before they built Pelican Bay, he was in the
second worst, which was Corcoran State Prison, and before they built that
supermax, they took him back to Tehachapi, which is out in the desert. These
are horrible places for a human organism to have to try to exist in.
We also
understand that because of his political history inside prison that he is a
legacy that will always be remembered in connection with comrade George Jackson
and that whole period of prison rebellion and prison reform that has stretched
from thirty years. I remember not too far back they even took him to the board
and slammed him with five years and since then the times for him to return to
the board have lessened, but, nonetheless, he's been continuously denied.
Suppose he is denied, where do you go with a denial from the Board of Prison
Terms?
G.K.:
That's a really tough question when there is no justice in the justice system
-- where to go? Fortunately the courts have been a little bit better than the
parole boards. The parole board is pretty much a guaranteed denial.
Surprisingly, Arnold Schwarzenegger is a little better with releasing prisoners
than Grey Davis was.
But still, what you do is, you go to the parole hearings
and you make the best arguments you can, and essentially, you pull the rug out
from under the commissioner so that any excuses they have to deny him parole,
you destroy those, you whittle away those excuses so that after the board
denies him parole, you bring it to the courts.
The courts have continuously
reigned in the board of prison terms. and told them, look, you gotta follow the
Constitution and what you have to do is base your decision on some evidence.
And if you continue to deny life inmates parole based on unchanging factors,
that begins to weigh upon the inmates' liberty interests. So what we really
have to do is set up a really good record at his parole board hearing and then
take it to the courts and show the courts that they are denying him parole
without any evidence that he would pose an unreasonable risk of danger to
society, which is the legal standard they operate under.
Bato: Well,
I'm glad that you mentioned the so-called liberty interest because for a number
of years at the California Prison Focus and prior to that at the Pelican BayInformation Project, a span of fifteen years, the work that we did around
prisoners and prison issues was that the State just did not acknowledge that
there was a liberty interest. I mean, why are you being held? Any democratic
society requires that through habeas corpus, [you] be able to explain why are
you holding me?
With Hugo, there's never been that explanation other than the
fact that what we know about prison internal politics is that the Department of
Corrections considers him a trophy, so to speak. The Guard's Union, they say,
he's the worst of the worst and this and that; they hold these guys as some
kind of emblem. But the thing about Hugo is that he has always been able to
maintain his humanity.
Hugo and I, we're in touch kind of spiritually, you
know. He knows that I wish him all the love possible in the world and that when
I left the Adjustment Center, August 20, 1976, the day they told me I would be
set free, after the San Quentin Six trial, they popped my cell door in the
Adjustment Center; they gave me a minute to run down the tier and say goodbye
to everybody. I seen Hugo in his cell and you know what? He had the sweetest
look on his face. He was so happy for me. And I said Hugo, Hugo, I'll never
forget you. All he said was to say to his mother that he loved her. So there is
that very human quality about Hugo a lot of people don't understand. Because he
grew up between here and the Fillmore and the Mission, and he vanished off the
streets of San Francisco in 1965. The State gobbled him up and we have factored
in that the State of California has made about one million dollars in upkeep
and rent holding him captive all these years; and it makes no sense today. He
has been in the Security Housing Unit absolutely too long. It's a miracle he's
still in the great condition he's in.
I want to also ask Nedzada who also
visited Hugo -- when you first seen him there in the S.H.U. where the visits
take place in this kinda dungeon keep, through Plexiglas, through a phone, what
was your first impression?
Nedzada:
Well, I don't know. We just felt like it was a bond there, like I already knew
him for so long. I been writing letters to him, you know, I started through
Kiilu, and it was just the expression, his look in his eyes and everything; he
just looked like he was gonna hug me, you know, I was like, oh my god, I
couldn't believe it! I couldn't believe the shape that he was in and he looked
really really good, and you could tell that this man was so positive and had
such great, wonderful energies about him and it was beautiful to be there.
At
the same time it was very sad to see him locked up in there because I feel like
he would be a wonderful contribution to our society to be out here instead of
locked up in there, and he sets such a good example, and his principles are
like -- whew man, outta this world, like, he won't compromise for anything, and
you know that.
Bato: Yeah,
and, Gordon, I know this was the first time you had a chance to meet Hugo face
to face even though it was in the conditions you guys were in, but what was
your first impression?
G.K.: You
know, I didn't know what to expect when I arrived at Pelican Bay. And when I
met him, I met somebody who deeply moved me. He is an inspiration; he is
someone who has taken everything that they have tried to do to him to break his
spirit and he has reversed it on them.
He says, the one thing I learned from W.
L. Nolen is that they cannot take control of how you live your life. And so
when they try to make me angry, I turn that into love. And he is such a warm
person. He is such a loving person. Everything he does is from his heart, and
it's about his love for humanity, his love for nature, his love for all life.
And he blew me away.
When I went into his cell the second day, even though we
only had a couple hours the day before, when I walked in, he came right up to
the glass, he put both his hands up. And he had a wide grin across his face and
he is just something else. He's really the kind of person like Nedzada said
that would contribute so much to this world.
Bato: Yeah,
I do remember that he had a very infectious smile. So my heart always goes out
to Hugo and I'm so elated that you, Gordon, and comrade Nedzada and Kiilu
Nyasha, who will be coming on the line real soon, have gone up there because I
think that you really have put some energy into this dungeon-keep where
everything is designed to shut the sun out, and Hugo hasn't seen the moon in
thirty, forty years.
We need to understand that this is a story of tragedy.
It's a relatively unknown story, but America is not good about justice for
everybody. You know, it really is not.... because that's what we're talking
about right now, forty-two years! It's just unimaginable. I have been free
thirty years, you know, but he never did get free after our trial. Three of us
were released after the San Quentin trial and three of us were convicted. So
you tell us, Gordon, what's possible for helping Hugo out?
G.K.: Well,
I will talk a little bit about Hugo Pinell, but I will also say that I think we
need to bring a larger campaign to bear for all political prisoners in the
United States. And I was so inspired by Hugo Pinell, but also so disappointed
that so many people will talk about political prisoners but very rarely do
people bring real concrete support.
So, what I would like to do is to campaign,
people, to get money together, to get resources together, to get a clinical
program running for all political prisoners in the United States; so we have a
concerted effort to work on their cases. Because before I stepped in on Yogi's
case, he was going to do this on his own. He did not have an attorney. And a
lot of these guys who have been in -- and who are in here for every single one
of us -- have been left behind in a significant way. The same was true for
Ruchell Magee who I represented earlier, last year.
But I'd also like to go
back to something, and that is that Yogi Pinell has been in the security
housing unit for thirty-three years, solitary confinement, and every year, once
or twice a year, there is a confidential memo that is put into his file that he
does not see, that his attorney does not see, that there is no way to
challenge, that says that he is in a gang and that he has been in a gang, and
that's why he's in the security housing unit.
So, there's this backdoor way
that the prison has used to keep him in the S.H.U. and they keep saying he's in
a gang. But, if you're in the S.H.U., how can you maintain a gang affiliation
for thirty-three years? It's impossible for that to be the case and it's also
impossible to challenge, because, like I said, it's a confidential memo that
his attorney can't see, that he can't see. So, we're going to challenge this at
his hearing. We're going to challenge this in the courts, but what I'm also
going to do is to start getting a larger campaign together to put pressure on,
legal pressure on for all political prisoners. And we're going to go to the
people with money, and we're going to attorneys across this country to help
free the political prisoners who are serving time for every single one of us.
Bato: Thank
you Gordon. We're going to come back to Gordon in a little bit. We have KiiluNyasha on the line and we're going to patch her in and she was also there to
see Hugo. Hugo is a very powerful person, you know, a completely new
revolutionary person, you know, in who he is and what he stands for. Like
Nedzada says, he will not budge on certain issues, he will never surrender,
because the Department of Corrections sees him as their trophy and they would
like to really break his spirit, and the spirit of all revolutionaries that
have fought inside prison, comrade George Jackson and all the other
revolutionaries who have fought the system from in prison and are fighting the
system today in prison.
You know, our prison radio show is basically about
keeping the spirit of resistance alive. Kiilu, more than anybody, the last
thirty, forty years, you have been a great source to a great many people
including myself, the San Quentin Six, and across the country the old line
Panthers who you knew, Romaine Fitzgerald, the longest-held Panther here in
California. You have been an inspiration for all of us. And to see Hugo Pinell,
you know, he just loves you so much. Tell us, how's he doing these days, Kiilu?
Kiilu:
Well, again, I have to be repetitious here. He's amazing! He's just absolutely
amazing! This was the fifth visit that I've had up there, but the last visit
was close to five years ago. And it just amazed me that he looked better than
he looked five years ago. I mean he's just unbelievable -- in his
discipline, in his high energy, and he's a vegetarian, as you may know. By the
way, the Chaplain rescinded his vegetarian diet that you guys fought so hard
for him to get, California Prison Focus, I mean, because it wasn't on religious
grounds. He sticks to his vegetarian diet, but I worry about him getting his
nutrition and his protein. But in any case, he still looks fantastic. And he
works out and his high energy is unbelievable and of course his loving spirit.
And I want to just give some quick quotes from some letters I have been
perusing.
"I don't ever regret speaking out and standing up for our people in here. I regret not being able to give more."
That's out of one letter.
And here's a kind of political statement:
"I used to believe that for our freedom to be real and effective, we first needed land. But with time, I've come to realize that just like our struggle is for humanity, freedom lies in the people, new people, first and foremost, for the people will make it all happen and wherever we are, that will be our freedom home, our freedom land. Once I was sure of that, I began to grow closer to my true loved ones, for in their true love and hearts, I have found my personal freedom, justice, peace and security, my personal home. That's how I've managed to keep pushing and growing, living in the hearts of beautiful and special people...."
In
another letter he says, along the same vein, by the way.
"I hope you've understood what I've tried to say. The way things are for us in the world, we don't have a land we can really call our own, since we don't govern it. Therefore, the surest, safest and best station of living is in our hearts. That's my home. For I know I'm really loved and wanted there and you all already live in my heart. You take care, big hugs, kisses and real love, Yogi Bear."
Bato: Hugo
just really, really been a great correspondence writer, you know. Over the
years he's written really, really outstanding humanitarian letters, you know,
that everybody should take to heart.
Kiilu: And
that's how he survives 24/7 lockup, you know except for the, the "dog
run," that outdoor closet they allow him to get out in. But people need to
realize that is a windowless cell that he has been in sixteen years of his
thirty-some odd years of solitary confinement. Pelican Bay S.H.U. is what they
call a supermax prison that is right now being cited by the U.N. Commission at
the recent international court hearings as a violation of human rights. Pelican
Bay itself is a violation.
Bato:
Pelican Bay early on -- as the work we did with the Pelican Bay InformationProject -- was cited by the Human Rights Commission of the United Nations in
their journal 1994/95 as one of the worst three prisons in America. So, we
believe that during the early formative years of running Pelican Bay, which was
'91, '92, '93, prior to the Madrid [Madrid v. Gomez] "cruel and unusual
punishment" federal case here in San Francisco, that some of the worst
atrocities had occurred during those years in America, just by the personnel
who were coming home from the first Gulf War taking jobs within the prison
system. So, it's been a very, very brutal regime there at Pelican Bay and
elsewhere at California prisons because, you know, the training that some of
the personnel get, and today we're seeing a lot of these same Service people
being the custodians and keepers of a great amount of people that are going
through prisons today. So, the spirit of Hugo Pinell is just so important to
keep alive. I think that there will be a major campaign to free Hugo.
Kiilu:
There really should be because, Bato, collectively speaking we Americans are losing
our humanity. I mean, it's a sad and frightening thing, because we are
tolerating Guantanamo, three suicides, and we're tolerating this incredible,
callous statement that came out of the State Department about that. And then,
we're tolerating Iraq and the ongoing slaughter there. We tolerated Haiti and
the slaughter there. We're tolerating so much inhumanity. And as you know
there's well over two million people in prison, and rising at the rate of a
thousand prisoners a week.
Bato: What
about that, Gordon?
G.K.: I
mean, it's absolutely true, you know. We're incarcerating large numbers of our
own population at levels that have never been seen in humanity. I was watching
this documentary yesterday and this law enforcement against prohibition was
putting up figures about incarceration rates of Black males under South African
apartheid. It was something like 849 black males per 100,000 under apartheid
were incarcerated; in the United States Black males per 100,000 is something
like 4,991. So we are way, astronomically beyond even what South Africa during
apartheid was doing to Black men.
Not to mention the rise in women prisoners,
not to mention the rise in Latino prisoners, not to mention that Native
Americans proportionately have more people incarcerated than any other group of
people in this country.
And I think Kiilu was right on. We have a subhuman
conscience in this country that has been corroded, corrupted, and we need to
regain our humanity.
One thing that Yogi said when I was up there, and this is
the quote I wanted to read and I'll insert it here. He said,
"If you want to change the world, change yourself. We have a society of half-people, to have a whole society, we need whole people."
And that's what he's about is
transforming himself. And that's really why he is still locked up in Pelican
Bay.
Because it's not about rehabilitation, it's about domination. And the
prison system wants to break your will, they want to dominate you and they want
you to submit. And it's like a man-over-a-dog kind of environment, and they
want you to submit, and they want to rub your nose in it. And then maybe, maybe
they'll let you out. And because he's not gonna submit, because he's proud,
because he has dignity, and integrity, I, I
Kiilu:
....and he will maintain it at all costs,
G.K.: Yes.
Kiilu: Yes.
And that's why I love and respect him so much. I don't know too many other
people in the world who have the kind of integrity and uncompromising
principles and great love that Yogi has. And he would be an incredible role
model.
Also, I want to throw in another thing. Yogi is so principled that when
he first went on the yard at San Quentin -- you know how segregated it is --
it's divided into basically Mexican, Whites and Blacks. And years ago, back in
the '60s, it was very segregated and you didn't cross those lines.
So, Hugo
identifies as a Black Nicaraguan, and the Mexicans wanted him to, well, because
he is bilingual, they expected him to hang with them. And he had Black friends
that he knew from the Fillmore and hangin' out in the streets here and he
wasn't about to give up his friends, and so he stuck with the Blacks.
And of
course when you break ranks in prison -- Bato can tell you -- they don't like
that. So the guards had it in for him right away. Then, when he became
politicized with George Jackson and W. L. Nolen and Howard Tole and they
started turning a criminal mentality into a revolutionary mentality, and
fighting racism in the prison, and started trying to unite prisoners of all
ethnicity's, then Hugo was of great value and an even greater threat because
he's bilingual. He could unite, potentially unite Blacks and Mexicans. So, he's
been locked up all this time because they really want to break him.
And I want
to just share one more thing that gives you an insight into Hugo's personality.
When Geronimo came out and I interviewed him on Free Radio Berkeley after 27
years [in prison], he talked about Yogi. And he said Yogi could be out on the
yard and if some brother that he didn't even know was being assaulted by a
guard, Yogi would come to his defense. He would jump in and of course wind up
in the Hole himself.
I've had letters from Yogi where he would tell me about --
he loved W.L. Nolen -- and he knew Cleveland Edwards and Sweet Jugs Miller, the
three that were killed in the yard at Soledad. in January 1970 which
precipitated the Soledad Brother's case. Yogi was telling me about Cleve and he
said W.L. was thrown in the Hole and they were worried about him, so they
caught a case by getting beat up themselves and thrown in the Hole so they
could go see about W.L. This is the kind of brother we're talking about. We're
talking about a brother who is really standup. I mean if he's got your back,
your back is covered.
Bato: Yeah,
I remember a lot of times when there was a so-called ass-whoopin' to be given
out, Hugo usually was the one. And even though we was going to trial, during
the San Quentin Six trial, the judge had told the prison guards there at San
Quentin to bring us to court no matter what. We decided we were going to
protest going to court that morning because of the horrible conditions they had
us in all chained up, they had dog collars on us at the time, and
Kiilu: I
remember, you had to go into court with 30 pounds of chains.
Bato: Yeah.
So, we had one of the chains, pretty loathsome, pretty odious that was the
chain that went around your neck that was held by the escort, the guy behind
you. We thought that was one too many chains for us. So the guards came in and
seeing that we were going to protest and the judge in charge of our trial had
given them permission to beat us up and stuff, they went in with the whole
thing, put on their attack gear, came in with their Billy clubs and they
brought gas with 'em that morning, they brought these big old canisters, you
know this was gas during the Vietnam time and they brought it into the cell
block and it was like, Oh boy! We all got gassed and shot and stuff, but Hugo,
they went for him first. I always regretted the fact that if I had not proposed
this taking a stand, maybe Hugo -- but Hugo just laughed, later, you know, he
just laughed about it. He's always been that kind of self-sacrificing kind of
person. He's always put himself out there to get hurt first, you know, or to
help others, regardless of whether it was going to hurt him or not.
But we want
to turn and ask comrade Nedzada more of her impressions on her visit talking
with Hugo.
Nedzada:
Thank you. Well, one of the first things I remember is that he kept asking me
about me and you know, I didn't know how to react. Because I went in there and
I was like, what am I gonna talk about and you know, I wonder what his life in
there is like because when we write letters, you know, he just kind of helps me
out with my problems, which is weird because I have all these people out here
around me and I can get advice and just talk to people and he can't. And then
we went in there and he wanted to talk about me. So what's going on with your
little sister, and you know, how you been, and how's work and are you going to
school and everything, and I was like, Wow. This man really cares about
something other than himself. But, yeah, I just had a very, very -- it was a
new, new experience in my life. I've never met anybody that was, you know,
anywhere close to him.
Bato: Well,
I have been into the SHU, allowed just one time, the only time I got to see
Hugo. It's been about ten years, you know. I somehow was allowed that one time
to go in and visit as an investigator with the California Prison Focus
monitoring group that went in and we seen each other briefly.
And it was like,
five minutes of kinda like us not really believing who we were seeing was
really who we were seeing because he kept asking me if I was Bato, and I telling
him "Yeah!" But he said he had never seen me in a suit. He said you
look like a lawyer. And I go yeah, well, for the purposes of seeing you (laughter).
But also I know what it was to go in there, and it turned my stomach going
through the security, through the dungeon, through the bars, hearing the
clanging doors, you know, the rattle of keys; it's just unnerving, you know.
And for me it was a psychological first to go back into the dungeon-keep that I
had left years before.
Kiilu: And
I give you high praise, Bato, because I have been dealing with prisoners for
over 35 years or something and very, very few will ever go back because of what
you're saying. And, so for you to overcome that, and, and go anyway, I think
you deserve kudos.
Nedzada: I
want to say when you spoke about psychological torture, I mean, that's just the
most beautiful place [pristine redwood territory] that I've been to, like, it
had all these trees, and these little rivers, and our drive up there was so
nice, but
Bato:
Crescent City is beautiful, yeah
Nedzada:
And then to think that these people are in there but they can't see any of this
stuff, they can't even look outside. It was very hard; it was hard in that
sense. And then, you know we talked a little bit about just what it was like in
there and he talked about how they separated a lot of the people that were near
his cell block so now he really has nobody to talk to.
He mentioned that a lot
of people in there -- I guess that that's one of their tactics -- that if they
tell you something for long enough you'll end up believing it. And he said
they've accused a lot of people of being gang-affiliated, and they started to
believe it. They just walk around and they're like, yeah, I'm this big shot and
this and that and he said, he said
Bato: Yeah,
psychological, I think, right.
Nedzada: He
said, I refuse to because I was not in a gang. I'm not that, I'm not what they
say I am. And it was just, like wow.
Bato: Yeah,
Hugo was always been a revolutionary. He's gotten away from the criminal
mentality mode, I mean twenty, thirty years ago. I mean it's like everybody
gets caught up in that, you know, and some people never get out of that
criminal mentality mode. But through the teachings of Che Guevara and Ho Chi
Min, and Malcolm X and George Jackson, there are prisoners today, I believe
tens of thousands of them that are politically conscious. It's a perfect place
for the revolutionary spirit to manifest itself, to show itself.
But we want to
once again turn to ask attorney Gordon Kaupp, what's the next phase for the
struggle for Hugo Pinell legal-wise?
G.K.: The
next phase is his parole board hearing, which is on July 10th [postponed 'til
November], and I'm going to go up there with Yogi and we?re going to present
his case before the Board of Prison Terms. And we're going to have to face
these cold commissioners who lack humanity and will be evaluating his case. And
my job, essentially is to is to take away any excuses that they have to deny
him parole. And I do not expect, and he does not expect to walk out of there
because one of the things that they hold against him is the fact that he is
still housed in the S.H.U. And so another thing that we have to do after this
parole board hearing is get him out of the S.H.U. And we have to get his case
before the courts. And we're going to have to fight that very, very hard.
But I
want to go back to one thing, Bato, that you said before and that is you were
in there, you were part of the San Quentin Six and like you said, Yogi is one of
the guys who stood up for everybody and the Department of Corrections has not
forgotten that. Although people have changed, the institutional memory has
remained. And he stands out in their minds. He told me that the old prison
guards, from way back in San Quentin came by on a tour. They got together,
drove all the way up to Pelican Bay to see him because the prison guards up
there now had said that they had broken his spirit. He said they walked by his
cell and he had a big smile for them and "I remember you," and immediately,
their smiles turned to frowns. A lot of people have been let out, but he's
remained. Because their job, as they see it, is to break him.
Bato: I
believe what you're saying is true. It's very, very detestable, but they would
come into the Adjustment Center [the hole] to see if any of us had been broken
by the treatment, by the every day -- [you're] just a nervous wreck in there
with all the commotion and all the noise. It's like an insane asylum. And so
Hugo Pinell has put up with that for 42 years and he is still somebody, when
you see him, he radiates, you know. He's somebody who
Kiilu: He
does that.
Bato: He's
created his own light in there, you know. He's always had that ability to do
that. He generates light. He generates goodness and kindness and absolute
strength, you know, the kind of strength that you can only acquire from 42
years within the California prison system. So, Kiilu, we're gonna have to get
off line pretty soon, but do you have anything else that we can read from Hugo,
because like I said, he's just a great correspondent, and I wish there would be
a booklet put out on his behalf, that would have just some of his really,
really courageous and humanitarian letters in them.
Kiilu:
Well, here's a paragraph that was written after the last board hearing.
"I was denied two more years. Some lady D.A. from Marin County was present to speak out about the S.Q.1971 incident, how bad I am, even though we never met, and why I shouldn't be released. It's really blanked up, you know, how the deck is stacked up against Rue and I.'
He's talking about Ruchell Magee. Don't
forget, Ruchell Magee is always a year ahead of Yogi, so he's been in there 43
years, and of course he's the trophy for the Marin Courthouse rebellion, the
sole survivor of that case. He was Angela Davis' codefendant.
Bato: Uh,
yeah, August 7, 1970.
Kiilu:
August 7, 1970. Black August. If I can briefly mention Chip Fitzgerald, the
first Black Panther railroaded to Death Row, and fortunately the death penalty
was rescinded in 1972, so he got off death row, but he is still doing life.
Chip is closing in on 40 years in prison.
We have the New York Three that are
some thirty-something years in prison now. Nuh, one of the New York Three,
passed away a few years ago; but Herman Bell and Jalil Muntaqin [Anthony
Bottom] is coming before the board again very shortly, we should find him on
the web site or through the San Francisco Bay View web site, and find there's a
current article about his case, so you should support him and write letters for
his release.
We've got Leonard Peltier, we've got Marilyn Buck, who just had
another board hearing and Assata Shakur in exile. We have so many political
prisoners that I can't even name them off the top, Eddie Conway, Mutulu Shakur,
Sundiata Acoli, help me,
Bato:
Ramsey Nunez and Alvaro Hernandez, Oscar Fernandez Rivera,
Kiilu: Yes,
Mumia Abu Jamal -- who himself is before the courts now and if he loses this
one he's on a fast track to execution. So, we really have our work cut out for
us, folks, there are so many prisoners' lives we must save.
Bato: We
don't want to forget all of John Africa's people in prison
Kiilu: Oh
yes! the MOVE nine, absolutely, and one of them died, so there are really,
literally eight MOVE members still locked up in prison doing up to 100 years
for the death of one police officer killed in friendly fire. Even the judge
said, "I don't know who shot the officer." We have a total picture of
total injustice in this country. Mumia's obviously framed. Now it's in
Congress.
They're trying to get France to take away the street they named for
Mumia Abu-Jamal in a [French] town, a suburb of Paris. And he's been named an
honorary citizen there and the last person named an honorary citizen was Pablo
Picasso. So, there you have it. Mumia, our wonderful, brilliant journalist,
keeps us posted with his commentaries.
Bato: Thank
you very much Kiilu, you know, we're at a quarter of an hour, we're going to
have to be fading out here, we want to thank
Kiilu:
Yeah, thank you so much, Bato, for all your good work with Prison Focus, I'm a
regular listener.
Bato: Thank
you very much, Kiilu. You put a light in that man's dungeon-keep, let me tell
you
Kiilu:
Well, listen he lit me up too, don't forget! (laughter)
Bato: Well,
you stay lit, Kiilu! Thank you so much for being on KPOO Community Radio. We
want to thank our guests once again, Gordon Kaupp and comrade Nedzada for being
here in the studio with us and we're going to be going onto Fernando's hideaway
music box.
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